#and i'd much rather never feel this way ever again lol

[iliterallyjustlivehere]

here is a little something i wrote a few months ago when i nearly quit theatre! complete projection onto Nick, per usual. 

the google doc i wrote this in is titled “nick is sad again.” it’s 1000 words of angst. please enjoy. <3

Nick Nelson hated rugby. He hated how physical it was, hated being touched and tackled. He hated the anxiety before a game and the sense of loss afterwards. But most of all he hated that he didn’t love it anymore. Rugby had once brought him so much joy. He had been team captain at his school and nothing had brought him so much joy. Other than Charlie, of course. He loved leading the team. He loved the unity of it. He loved that, even though they weren’t the greatest players in the world, they still had fun. He hated that he couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Going to Uni to play rugby sounded like the perfect option. He was definitely talented enough, and he loved it so much. He didn’t just love the act of playing, but also the mechanics and what makes a team or a player great. He wanted to be a coach for some kids' rugby team. He knew he didn’t need to go to college just to be a coach, but he wanted to. That’s what he hated the most. He hated that he hated it. 

It had been a long day. His new team just didn’t mesh well. They were all decent humans and phenomenal players, but their personalities clashed and their coach was not good at bringing them together. Try as he might, Nick couldn’t pull the team together. In a way, he had become captain. He wasn't an official captain, the real captain was quiet, reserved. He reminded Nick of Charlie, kinda. The Real Captain was the greatest player on the team, by far, but when it came to anything outside of Rugby? He was lost. So Nick had taken that part. He did pep talks, he gave quiet pointers, bought doughnuts on game days. The other guys joked about him being their “mascot,” or called him the “mom friend.” Nick didn’t know what to feel about these names. 

The drive to practice was awful as well. Nick was often convinced that his own driving was making him carsick, when it was just his anxiety. He knew this and yet still had to pull into parking lots during the drive to get his breathing under control. The intense nausea and dizziness kept him home some days, but he knew he couldn’t hide forever. He’d stopped eating  beforehand, which probably made things worse. He reasoned the skipping meals with the fact that he felt ill. No one wants to eat when they’re nauseous, even if it’s just from anxiety. 

The ride home was very different. The complete stimulation switch majorly fucked with his head. Going from an adrenaline fueled panic attack to the silent drive home was the worst. He would listen to music, but it hurt his head. He didn’t feel ill anymore, the issue was he didn’t feel anything at all. Dissociating became a common occurrence after heightened emotions. He just felt so physically and mentally sick. He knew it was hurting him. But he had to accept that this was the way things are. This was his own fault. He had chosen this, he had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Arriving home was good. Opening the door to see Charlie’s face and feel his presence was the best part of everyday. If he could, Nick would bring Charlie with him everywhere. He was sure Charlie would go with him anywhere, but it just wasn’t feasible. It just wouldn’t work out. He was ashamed of how much he needed Charlie. Nick was so used to being the one that people needed, he didn’t realize he also needed people. People plural. Humans are pack animals, they need multiple people. They can’t find everything from just one person. But Nick secretly hated everyone but Charlie. Maybe not hate, perhaps just… distrust? Dislike? Nick didn’t know, but he couldn’t handle anyone else. He didn’t feel safe anywhere except for in Charlie’s presence.

Some days they would both ditch all their responsibilities and just sit in bed all day. Often these were Charlie’s bad days, so he would be staying in bed anyways. Nick insisted on staying home and taking care of Charlie, even though he could handle himself. He hated himself for this, but he loved those days. He loved having an excuse not to go to class or work. He loved caring for Charlie. Sometimes Charlie would cry, and Nick would rock him back and forth and tell him everything was okay, he was safe, they were safe. It was just as reassuring for him as it was for Charlie. 

Feeling needed by Charlie was an addiction. Feeling needed by anyone really. That was part of the reason he was still in Rugby. They needed him. Mom friend Nick Nelson. The one who provides snacks and makes sure everyone is hydrated. He realizes the irony here, since he had spent years providing snacks and drinks for Charlie. The difference was he loved caring for Charlie. It was everyone else, everything else that angered him. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let them down, they had come to expect him to be a certain way, so he had to put on the same mask every fucking day so as not to ruin anyone’s impression of him. 

What Nick hadn’t realized is as follows: Rugby wasn’t the issue. It was just something to blame. It was only a vessel for all the bad feelings. A reason for him to hate himself. Nick often gets so submerged in the mist that he forgets things. He forgets that he is human and therefore makes mistakes. He forgets that he needs to breathe too. The blinders over his eyes have been in place for so long he has forgotten anything else exists. 

Charlie knew something was up. You don’t sew your soul to someone and not know most everything about them. Charlie knew Nick couldn’t sleep with socks on, that he only reads books with happy endings, and he always, without fail, kisses the back of his hand when they’re both in bed and Nick thinks he is asleep. But Charlie also knows it’s best to let Nick open up on his own. In the past he had begged Nick to tell him what was wrong, but Nick would shut down. Charlie trusted that Nick wasn’t actively trying to hide anything. He was just hurting and not ready to talk about it. So, even though it pained him to see the paleness of Nick’s face and feel his cold hands, he kept quiet. He loved Nick quietly, so as not to overwhelm him. Every day that passed, Charlie’s heart hurt a bit more. His best friend, his love, his person was hurting. He realized this was probably how Nick felt whenever Charlie was struggling. 

Nick was at his breaking point. He couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t continue like this, just feeding the cycle of never ending pain. He had had enough. Arriving at home, Nick parked the car and just sat there for a moment. A long moment. Time was passing. The sun was setting. Still Nick sat. Charlie peeked through the window for the fourth time. It was time for Charlie to step in. 

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (19) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request: closed

note: uhhh... angst, fluff,, face fucking/freaky sex (period sex) LOL .... nothing too crazy but it's def intimate. jus wanted to let u guys know part 20 is the 'epilogue' for the plotline ,, the continuation will go on from part 21-25,,, (onwards if i have more drafts) but that's all i have planned for now !!! thank u so much for reading along,,, it's truly been a pleasure to be loved and seen by u all <3 much love !!

୨ৎ playlist ୨ৎ

war - keshi ; you always got something you wanna prove / and i've got nothing left to lose / don't know what we're fighting for / i'm tired of going back and forth

intro (end of the world) - ariana ; i'd rather tell the truth than to make it worse for you / if the sun refuse to shine / baby, would i still be your lover? / would you want me there? / if the moon went dark tonight / and if it all ended tomorrow / would i be the one on your mind?

labyrinth - taylor swift ; uh oh, i'm falling in love / oh no, i'm falling in love again

//

that day.

when someone who loves you more than life itself proposes, you say yes. 

that’s what you’re supposed to do. 

you’re supposed to kiss, plan the wedding, get married, and live happily ever after. it’s supposed to work out. it’s supposed to. 

yet, there you stood in front of the love of your life and a ring between you two. silent, eyes flickering back and forth from his to the ring. your gaze traces the cut and falls in love with how the diamonds shine. the band is the perfect thickness and there is nothing more you want in the world than to put it on. 

you know what to say. 

the words are right there, waiting on the tip of your tongue. so easy to speak out, so tempting to do… but with every breath and exchanged look with jungkook, there’s something inside you that stops you. you search as fast as you can, running through your mind with the leftover excuses and justifications of why it’s still a no. 

then, your mind stops spinning the moment you realize; it’s just not the right time. at least, right now isn’t. 

it’s not that simple to understand and accept. you, yourself, have a difficult time figuring out why you can’t just live and be happy. why you can’t accept the proposal right now since you believe in jungkook so much… perhaps, the best way to put it is; it’s stormy. there’s fog, the rain is pouring, and it’s cold. you know the storm won’t last forever. the sky will clear soon… but it’s not now. right now, the storm needs to calm.

only time can do so. 

only time can bring the calm.

so, you answer jungkook with a heavy heart but a clear mind. 

“can i have some time? please, jungkook…” 

his shoulders drop, but his heart feels more than ready to wait. why? because contrary to popular belief, the world didn’t end when you didn’t answer jungkook’s proposal.

who was he to deny you of some time? both of you knew the real issue wasn’t whether you loved him—it was everything wrapped around it.

he gives you until the end of the week to make your choice.

jungkook fills the next 3 days with clingy text messages and random visits to your place. each day, he makes playful comments about how he’s packing up and doesn’t know where to put his things... should he drop them off at your place or ship them to new york.

you roll your eyes and ask, “are you staying there forever?”

in response, he huffs cheekily and says, “only if you break my heart.”

the truth is, you could never do it.

you could never break his heart.

it’s too precious.

it’s quite literally half of yours.

after he proposed and granted you time, the two of you talked about how the week should go. yes, you would give your answer eventually, but more importantly, the focus should be on zion. he’s the center of your relationship, and your decision shouldn’t change the fact that you’re both his parents.

which brings us to now...

sitting in the back of zion’s daycare room with your phone out, more than ready to capture the upcoming moments. but as excited as you are, a nervous buzz hums beneath your skin. maybe it’s just a mom thing. watching your son grow and take part in these little social moments moves you in ways you never expected.

“honey, why are we sitting so far away—”

“oh, you made it!”

“i wouldn't miss this for the world,” jungkook smiles, rushing to your side. he leans in and kisses your cheek, the warmth of his lips sending a comforting flutter through you. settling beside you, he glances at the classroom filled with eager children. “hi mama. is it his turn yet?”

you nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest. “is it weird we’re here during their circle time? like, are we controlling parents? we could’ve just asked for a video to be sent to us—”

“next, we have zion sharing—oh, wow! friends, it looks like zion brought so many toys to show and tell for us today… maybe he can pick just one to present?” zion’s teacher announces, patting his back and helping him open the bag.

your cheeks flush with a blend of embarrassment. wide eyed, jungkook whispers, “holy fuck, you packed him so much shit—“

“shhh! what was i supposed to do? he couldn’t decide, and i didn’t want his first show and tell to be something he wouldn’t remember!” you playfully shove jungkook, who chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“you spoil him too much.”

“says the father that buys his 3-year-old stussy clothing and calvin klein underwear.” you bite.

jungkook shrugs and tilts his head. “dilf behaviour, i don’t know.”

his reply makes you laugh. then, you both turn your attention and watch zion bend over and shuffle through the bag. his small hands search for the perfect item, only revealing he’s found it through a big smile. when he finally makes his choice, the teacher smiles brightly and helps him retrieve a photo from the depths of the bag.

“friends, today zion wants to share a family photo!” she announces, handing the photo to him. zion beams with pride as he holds it up, encouraged to walk around the circle to show everyone. when he notices you and jungkook in the back, his giggle fills the room.

the family photo he chose to share is one of you, jungkook, and zion in bed. zion is 2 years old in the photo with bedhead. it’s his birthday. there’s a cake and a sleepy smile on his face while you and jungkook have paper party hats on, both cheek to cheek with zion. 

you should’ve seen this coming.

of course zion picked this. his favourite memory in his entire 3 years of living is when he woke up in bed and had birthday cake for breakfast. you all look so happy. 

“guys, look! that’s my mommy and my daddy!” he exclaims, pointing excitedly.

suddenly, all twenty pairs of wide eyes turn toward you and jungkook, and you can’t help but laugh awkwardly, waving at the children. “hi friends,” you say softly. “i’m zion’s mommy, and this is zion’s daddy—”

“daddy bought mommy a new car!” zion adds proudly, his voice echoing in the small space. “can i show and tell the car? is it outside mommy—oh! and he bought her a ring too! it’s so big! like a rock—”

a few children burst into laughter, while others shout out eager questions. just then, one little girl runs up to you, her eyes wide with curiosity. “zion, where is the ring?” she asks, looking up at you with innocent expectation.

zion shrugs, clearly unfazed. “at home,” he replies. “mommy always puts it on and then takes it off. on off, on off, on and off!”

“is your daddy rich?” one child shouts out. 

“my mommy is richer.” zion says proudly. “she’s a lawyer.”

“what’s your daddy’s job?” 

zion shrugs. “i don’t know. he always looks at art on his computer. daddy, what’s your job?”

jungkook chuckles. “i’m a visual director for advertisement.”

“yeah, okay. that.” zion nods. “... anyways, i want to be a lawyer like mommy when i grow up.”

your heart skips a beat as jungkook’s lips tighten. you exchange a panicked glance, his brows furrowing as he takes a deep breath, trying to suppress a laugh amid the unexpected attention and embarrassment from the twenty curious kids.

zion’s teacher gently guides his friend back to the circle, asking zion questions like, “how does this photo make you feel?” “where was this photo taken?” and “why did you choose to share this photo?”

zion, beaming with pride, answers one of the three questions. 

“i wanted to show and tell this photo because i love my family. mommy always kisses my booboos and daddy always makes me pancakes. i love it when we sleep in the same bed and they tickle me in the morning… i think they tickled me here too! and i love it when i'm sick and they buy me lollipops... oh, and i love my daddy because he teached me my abcs...” he says, nodding his head with determination. “but also, i love my mommy more than daddy because i just do.”

the other children burst into laughter, their voices mixing in a delightful cacophony of familial love. some shout out their own preferences, choosing sides between mommy and daddy. you can’t help but chuckle at their innocence. jungkook claps, his laughter joining yours, and together you send zion an enthusiastic thumbs up, a shared pride swelling in your chests as you watch him bask in the attention.

when the circle ends, zion’s teacher insist you two stay for a bit and observe zion with the children. you and jungkook spare 10 extra minutes before needing to leave for work. before you leave, you pick up zion and give him a tight hug. 

“i can’t believe you chose us over your toys, my love! that was so speical to us, z!” you exclaim, showering him with kisses on his cheeks and neck. he giggles, jumping in your arms.

“because i love you, mommy—”

“hello?” jungkook cuts in, scooping zion from your arms. “daddy is here too... say you love daddy too…”

zion nods. “okay, i love daddy too. i love mommy more—h-hey”

jungkook also attacks zion with kisses and tickles, their laughter filling the room. when the moment ends, he puts zion down and ruffles his hair. you and jungkook bid him goodbye, promising to come back for pickup in a few hours.

tonight you two plan on celebrating the fact that you and jungkook—despite all the distress and separation—made it known to zion that you are family no matter what.

he is loved no matter what and he is chosen above all else.

which is why this is so special to you and jungkook—

zion chose you two.

for dinner, you and jungkook decide to cook together. 

you two haven’t done this in almost a year. usually, it’s one or the other. tonight, it was special… and for important reasons, zion requested a cake. you and jungkook grant it under the condition that he entertains himself with his toys while you and jungkook cook. 

jungkook takes over with the prep as you begin to cook the meal together. he teases you a few times, joking that the food is burning. before you know it, he’s wrapping his arms around you and helping you cook. 

it's crazy, isn't it? you would think that jungkook would be sore loser when it comes to rejection... but since it technically wasn’t rejection; he's soaking these moments up. any and every moment with you—he's taking.

“is this really a two person job?”

“mhmm,” jungkook says, sneaking a kiss on your neck. “you know what else is a two person job?”

you tilt your face and squint at him. 

he mimics your expression before pecking your lips. 

“focus on cooking. i know it’s hard with me being this handsome and my big ass dick—”

“shut up.”

“yes honey.”

the rest of the evening slips by in a blur.

the dinner is simple but comforting, the kind that fills your heart as much as your stomach. laughter bounces around the table, mixing with the quiet clinking of plates and the warmth of home. after the meal, the three of you gather to cut the cake, zion’s small hands eager as he grabs his slice. it doesn’t take him long to devour it, chocolate smeared across his cheeks and lips. before you can reach for a napkin, he’s off—bolting toward the living room with that familiar burst of energy.

jungkook chases after him, laughter trailing in their wake, filling the space even after they've left. you excuse yourself, slipping away to the bathroom, the echoes of their voices lingering in the hall.

when you return, you pause at the doorway, the sight before you making your heart melt. your boys—your entire world—are sprawled out on the carpet, toys scattered around them in a beautiful mess. zion’s baby trash talk fills the room, his little hands batting at jungkook’s as they wrestle in the softest, silliest way. it’s these moments that make time stop, where everything feels so perfect it almost hurts.

"what do you love the most about mommy?" jungkook asks, his voice playful but curious, pulling zion close until their noses nearly touch.

zion scrunches up his face, clearly deep in thought, but you know him too well—he’s stalling. "umm... i don't know. she's pretty."

jungkook raises a brow, amused. "yeah, she is... but you pick her over me any chance you get and you don’t know?"

zion shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "yeah... i love mommy because i just do." then his face lights up as if he’s stumbled upon a great revelation. "but also because she buys me better toys than you..."

jungkook’s laughter rumbles through the room, shaking his head. "i think my favorite thing is how hard she works for our family."

zion’s head tilts, curious. "cos she’s a lawyer?"

"yeah," jungkook agrees, then his voice softens. "but also because she loves us a lot. she does so much to make sure we’re fed, loved, and somehow always on time. you know, z, i’ve loved mommy for a while now... i can’t wait to love her for even longer. you think she’s gonna marry me?"

zion thinks about it for a second, then shrugs again. "maybe."

"maybe?" jungkook gasps, feigning panic. "you're supposed to be on my side!"

zion's laughter explodes as jungkook attacks him with tickles, his tiny body squirming beneath jungkook’s strong arms. the sound of their laughter fills the room, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, making your chest tighten with an emotion you can’t even name. it’s love, yes, but it’s more than that—it’s contentment.

the kind that comes from seeing your entire heart laid out in front of you, scattered in toys and giggles and moments too precious to capture fully.

you step into the scene, quietly noticing how zion’s eyelids have begun to droop, a yawn escaping his small lips. jungkook notices too, his eyes flicking to the clock before he decides it's time to get zion ready for bed. surprisingly, zion doesn’t argue this time. instead, he bounds toward the bathroom, his energy fading but still there in the way only a child can manage.

as jungkook jogs past you, he smacks your ass, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips as he chases after zion. you huff in mock annoyance but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. there’s a lightness to it all, a warmth that settles deep in your bones, and even as you start tidying up the scattered toys and cluttered living room, you feel that fullness.

by the time you finish, jungkook and zion are still in the bathroom, their voices muffled by the sound of running water and sleepy giggles. you head to the kitchen, your movements slow, deliberate, as you begin washing the dishes, the weight of the day catching up with you. but even through the exhaustion, all you feel is love. it's in the quiet moments, in the laughter, in the way your home feels more alive when the two of them are near.

it's everything.

it always has been.

as you stand by the sink, hands submerged in warm soapy water as you scrub the dinner plates; you can’t help but think about today. 

today was good. 

after you and jungkook left zion’s daycare, you had to get back to the firm. jungkook insisted on driving you, but you brought your car too. instead, you asked him to walk you to your car. happily, he does so. when you two got to your car, you opened the trunk and gave him a gift bag. 

“what’s this?”

“open it.”

“an umbrella?”

“use it.”

he laughed, kissed you, and uttered against your lips; “we’re so not over.”

then, you two parted ways. 

as you wash the dishes, you think back to it.

how his hands were placed around your waist as you two walked out of the daycare. how he kisses you whenever his eyes fall onto your lips. how he laces your fingers together every chance he gets. how he shows up as zion’s father despite all the shit you throw at him… it’s everything to you. 

he’s a good man. 

your mind begins to wander as you think of all the things you want to say to him but can’t. things you’ve kept tucked away, hidden beneath the day-to-day rhythm of life. you think about the moments when everything felt too heavy, when the world seemed to close in on you, and all you wanted was him. 

in the depth of your misery, all you could think of was crawling to him—slipping into his arms, burying your face against his chest, and letting the weight of everything fall away as you cried your heart out.

you wanted to ask him to fix it, to take the burden from you like he always could, as if his love alone had the power to make everything right again.

because love... love should be enough, right? 

in your heart, you know that’s all you’ve ever wanted from him. for the love between you two to be enough to overcome the exhaustion, the stress, the compromises...

you’ve built so much together—beautiful things, a life, a family—but in the quiet moments, you still find yourself wishing it could just be about the two of you again. before the responsibilities, before you had to be anything more than his and him yours.

you imagine a different version of this life (not that you want it. you wouldn’t trade zion for the world). one where you’re still young, where the only thing you have to worry about is each other. no careers pulling you in opposite directions—no complications that need constant juggling or guilt. just him and you, lost in that simple, intoxicating love you both fell into so easily.

if it were like that, you know you’d choose him in a heartbeat. without hesitation, without the doubt that sometimes creeps in when the days get too long. you still would choose him, even now, with all that’s at stake.

because the truth is, you always choose him. 

you choose him in every quiet glance, in every tired smile at the end of a long day. you choose him when he makes you laugh, when he frustrates you, when he softens just enough for you to see that vulnerable part of him he hides from the rest of the world.

and even when things get hard, when life feels overwhelming, and you're standing on the edge of that misery, you still want him. you want him beside you, even if love isn’t always enough to fix everything. because, deep down, you know that with him, it’s enough to keep going.

and maybe that’s what matters most. 

not that love can fix everything, but that it's the reason you keep trying.

but it’s different now in the sense that you have more things to consider. zion, the people around you, your careers, and your own desires. how do you do this? how do you love him and give him everything but at the same time; do it for yourself too?

every day for the past 9 months felt like war. like you had to constantly choose one or the other. 

marriage or new york.

why can’t you have both? 

maybe that’s the answer. 

as jungkook finishes putting zion to bed, the quiet creak of the floorboards announcing his presence behind you. without saying a word, he picks up a dish towel and starts drying the clean plates, his shoulder brushing against yours gently.

"so... i was thinking," he starts casually, “maybe we should start planning for these 3 months. you know, like, zion’s schedule, dinners... that kind of stuff.”

you sigh softly, rinsing a glass. "we’ve got time," you mutter, brushing it off without meeting his gaze. "it doesn’t have to happen right now."

jungkook pauses, drying his hands before leaning against the counter. "i just think we should be prepared," he says, his tone still light but with a hint of seriousness creeping in. “i know you still have time left, but i’m not so sure our plans do—”

“what do you mean our plans? jungkook, you’re not taking zion—” you place the glass in the drying rack, feeling the pressure of the upcoming separation tightening in your chest. "we don’t have to plan every single moment, jungkook. why do you always do this? we have time."

“we have 4 days.”

“4 is plenty.”

“is it?” jungkook asks, voice shaking. “is it easy for you, ___? going back and forth, putting the ring on and off… telling me i can’t make plans—”

“that’s not what i meant—”

“what do you mean, then?”  

the room feels charged with tension as jungkook’s gaze hardens. he can see the conflict written all over your face, the way your shoulders tense and your hands move a little faster. "___, i just want us to be ready," he insists, his voice softening. "we need to figure out how to make this work."

you turn to him, frustration bubbling to the surface. 

"no. it's not easy for me, jungkook. it’s scary as hell when you do this,” you snap. “planning the rest of our life together when we’re only just recovering from the one we lost. i’m scared that if we make plans and start over—we might lose again." your word slip out before you can filter them.

“lose what? we don’t have to have another baby until we’re ready. until you’re ready—”

“it’s not that,” you bite your inner cheeks. “well, it’s a part of it… but what if i do it again? what if i lose myself and lose you? what if i fuck up too much the next time around and you don’t come back? everything we’ve built—us… i… fuck, what if you don’t fight for us because i burned everything down—”

“you won’t.”

“jungkook—”

he huffs. “___, you’re not wildfire, you’re hearth. you’re the reason this all feels like home. yeah, you’ve got heat, but it’s the kind that pulls people closer, not pushes them away. you don’t ruin, you ignite. you’re the reason we’re still burning bright. i burn for you."

you tighten your lips. “have you been watching bridgeton?”

“i’m trying here—”

you kiss him. 

he chases your lips as you pull away.

“i trust you. it’s myself i’m still unsure about. it’s getting better but it just freaks me out when you plan ahead… i used to look forward to those moments, you know? now it feels complicated.”

jungkook nods, bringing his hands to your face. he fixes your hair and looks into your eyes. “honey, even if the flames get high, we’ll handle them together. and if it burns, then fine—then we can slow dance in the burning room. you don’t just burn, you keep me warm. you make everything brighter, stronger. don’t think for a second that i’d let you lose yourself to the fire. i need you. you’re my warmth. you’re the light of my life, ___."

you pout, completely in awe of his words. 

jungkook then leans in and just when he’s about to kiss you, he murmurs; “so are you marrying me or what?” 

his words catch her off guard. as you open your mouth to retort, the teasing glint in his eyes makes you pause. for a moment, you’re defensive, but then the corners of her mouth twitch upward against her will.

“don’t be a coward,” jungkook says. “you’re a million things to me. don’t be that.”

“coward?” you scoff, trying to keep your tone light, as you push away from him. “you think i’m a coward?”

“well, you’re avoiding the tough stuff,” jungkook replies, his playful tone breaking through the tension. “... and we both know you’re tougher than that.”

you can feel the weight of his words settling in, the understanding lingering between you two. the walls of anxiety you built up start to crumble, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. 

“maybe you’re right.”

he steps closer, nudging her playfully. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it? admitting that i’m right… wanting to marry me—”

“whatever you say, you cocky son of a bitch—”

jungkook chuckles, kissing you to shut up.

by the 4th day, jungkook begins to lose his mind.

the waiting has been unbearable. a slow kind of torture that gnaws at him from the inside out. every passing second feels like he's being pulled apart, suspended in limbo, unsure whether his future will unfold with you by his side or shatter into something unrecognizable. his thoughts go in circles—one moment, he’s convinced you’ll say yes, and the next, a creeping doubt settles in, making his chest feel tight.

he imagines every scenario, every possible response, and the worst part is that there’s no way to know.

he has packed all his belongings into boxes that line the walls of his studio apartment, the space feeling more hollow than it ever has. his game plan is simple: if you say yes, he’ll leave the boxes at your place, move back home, and everything will fall into place. if you say no… well, he’ll burn everything and cry the entire way to new york.

kidding.

(maybe)

realistically, jungkook will bring his things to his parents’ house, regroup, and try to act like he isn’t completely devastated. but even if you say no, there’s no universe where you and him don’t end up together eventually.

he’s sure of it.

there’s a certainty in his heart, a pull that refuses to let him believe otherwise. if it takes time, then so be it.

he’ll propose again and again when he gets back, until you see what he sees—that you’re meant for each other.

by the 6th day, yoongi comes in to bring his boxes.

jungkook spent the past 2 days at work, going over files and preparing documents for new york. it felt like going through the motions, like he was acting out a version of his life that wasn’t real yet. when he steps back into his studio, the air feels stagnant, the packed boxes looming like reminders of the uncertainty ahead.

he finds yoongi slumped over on the couch, lazily typing away on his laptop, his legs sprawled across the cushions as if he’s already made himself at home.

“have you been like that all day?” jungkook asks, toeing off his shoes by the door.

yoongi doesn’t look up. he lets out a wide yawn. “yeah,” he says, stretching. “your new york assistant better be patient as hell with you. you're a bitch sometimes... anyways, i actually moved a few boxes and put my clothes in the closet. oh, and i went out for some coffee.”

jungkook squints at him, making a face. “what? i literally have a nespresso machine.”

yoongi stands up from the couch, his hands sinking into the deep pockets of his sweatpants. he tilts his head slightly, a look of lazy amusement on his face.

“no, you don’t.”

jungkook frowns, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. he turns to the kitchen counter, where his nespresso machine has always been, only to find it missing. his heart skips a beat, and he takes a step forward, blinking as if maybe he just missed it somehow.

“what? where’d it go—”

“___ came by and took it,” yoongi says casually, as if he’s talking about the weather.

jungkook’s mind races, processing the information. “what? why would she take it?” his voice is laced with confusion, but there’s a flicker of something else—a hope he doesn’t dare entertain too much just yet.

yoongi rolls his eyes, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

“congratulations on your marriage, jungkook,” he says, twisting the cap off. “now get out of my place. go home.”

jungkook blinks again, his heart pounding as the realization sinks in. you took the nespresso machine.

you took the fucking nespresso machine.

that’s your answer. his chest tightens, but this time it’s not from uncertainty. it’s from the flood of emotions crashing over him—the relief, the joy, the love.

his body moves on autopilot as he starts grabbing things, adrenaline coursing through him. yoongi watches from the couch, a smirk tugging at his lips as he lazily sips his water. “you’re welcome,” he mutters under his breath.

jungkook doesn’t hear him.

his mind is already on you.

the wait is over, and he’s finally going home.

jungkook bursts through your door, calling your name, the sound of his voice filled with excitement and urgency.

“___? honey, where are you—”

time seems to stop as the world around you fades away.

as he catches sight of you on the living room floor, laughter bubbling between you and zion, the warm glow of the afternoon sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. the ring on your finger catches the light, sparkling as it draws his gaze.

his breath hitches, and his heart feels as if it’s been thrust into a whirlwind—stopping, skipping a beat, and then racing wildly, unable to contain the rush of emotions flooding through him.

it beats for you.

“hi, honey,” you wave him over, your smile radiant and genuine, illuminating the cozy space. “look! zion can count up to thirty now!”

jungkook rushes to your side, the weight of the day lifting with each step. he forgets that yoongi is still with him, his entire focus on you. kneeling beside you, he takes your hand in his, his fingers brushing over the ring—the very symbol of the love and commitment he has always wanted to share with you.

“you’re marrying me?” he asks, disbelief and joy intertwining in his voice. "it's a yes?"

you look at him lovingly, warmth radiating from your gaze—the kind of look that speaks volumes. it’s the same way you’ve always looked at him, but now, there’s an unmistakable depth to it. the courage, the trust, the love shines brighter than ever, enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy.

"i've loved you forever,” you reply, cupping his cheeks with your hands, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “i have things to work on and so do you... but we're gonna do it together, right? cos this was difficult. this was way too difficult... and loving you has always been clear... so, yeah. i'm toughening it out. i'm trusting you and i'm not going to burn this to the ground. jungkook, you’re the only one i love in this world. you’re the only one who understands me. i fought so many wars in my mind to be with you—it has to be you.”

as jungkook’s lips curve into a radiant smile, a surge of emotion wells up within him. he leans in, capturing you in a kiss filled with promise and passion, pulling zion into a hug, enveloping you both in the warmth of his love. laughter bubbles up, mingling with happy tears as he holds you two close, the room echoing with the sweet sound of family and joy.

“oh my god,” he cries, the happiness spilling over. “i can’t believe this. okay, i’m going to get my stuff and—”

“yoongi?” you call, and he raises his hand, responding as if it were all part of a well-rehearsed script.

“wanna have a sleepover at uncle yoongi’s place? we should give mommy and daddy some privacy, huh?” he explains, scooping zion up into his arms and tickling him, making the little one giggle uncontrollably.

“can we eat ice cream before bed?” zion asks, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“duh!” yoongi replies with a grin.

“yoongi—”

“my son, my rules,” yoongi hushes you playfully. he puts zion down, urging him to say goodbye to you both, and they exchange sweet kisses before you point to the kitchen counter where zion’s overnight bag sits. yoongi picks it up and holds zion’s hand as they leave.

the moment settles around you and jungkook, and he looks at you with a mix of wonder and concern.

“you said yes,” he states, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“i did,” you confirm, a hint of hesitation in your voice.

“what’s with this vibe, then?”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of what you’re about to say. “jungkook... i still want you to go to new york.”

jungkook tilts his head, his expression shifting to confusion.

“are you guys coming with me?”

you shake your head gently. “no.”

“no?”

you reach for him. he lets you hold his hand. bringing it your lips, you kiss them. “jungkook, i don’t want it to be one or the other. let’s do both, okay? go to new york. let’s get married. both. we do both.” 

“but 3 months?”

“we’ll come and visit!” you suggest, fully meaning to do so. truth be told, you already bought your tickets for the first visit. “i decided to take a leave from work for the rest of the year—why are you looking at me like that?"

"that's huge. are you sure that's what you want?"

you nod. "i want you."

"oh god..."

you laugh. "i want to get this right and i want to be okay. i want to figure it all out and i want to do it with you by my side. so, do this for us…. and 3 months isn’t forever. you’ll be back soon and we’ll be visiting every month. it’s too much of a hassle to move… but i truly want you to go and explore your options. i want you to go knowing that i don’t only love you for who you are and for what you’ll ever be—but i love you so much that i believe in you. in the dreams you have and the dreams i have for you. so, go. go, and when you come back, come back home to us—to me.”

the sincerity in your words wraps around him like a warm embrace, and jungkook feels the weight of your love and belief in him, making him all the more determined to chase after his dreams. he nods slowly, understanding the depth of what you’re offering.

in that moment, everything feels right.

"w-we can’t—" your voice breaks, barely a whisper, trembling with hesitation. your heart is pounding, the room feeling warmer by the second.

“why not?” jungkook’s eyes are wide, pleading, filled with a desire that mirrors your own but with an urgency that’s hard to ignore. his breath fans over your lips, just inches apart.

he’s been kissing you for almost 20 minutes, his lips soft but persistent, his tongue teasing yours in ways that make it impossible to think straight. his hands have long since slipped under your shirt, fingers trailing over your bare skin, sending sparks up your spine.

the heat between you two is overwhelming, consuming. his touch is soft but possessive, his fingertips grazing the edge of your bra as he pulls you closer, pressing you flush against him. you feel his heart racing beneath his chest, a rhythm that matches your own.

every inch of you craves him, craves more.

“i want you,” his voice is a low, husky whisper, filled with need. his hands move slowly, deliberately, like he’s memorizing every curve of your body, every reaction. “i want all of you.”

his words send a shiver down your spine, your resolve weakening with every second. he looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever... and you have too.

the tension between you two has been building for so long, the unspoken feelings bubbling under the surface, waiting to explode.

his lips find your neck, pressing soft, heated kisses there, and you arch into him, your breath hitching. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, your body betraying the protests on your lips. every touch, every kiss, makes it harder to think, harder to hold onto the reasons why you shouldn’t.

you can feel how much he wants you, the way his hands tighten their grip on your waist, the way he presses himself harder against you, his need undeniable. his lips move back to yours, capturing them in a deep, searing kiss that leaves you breathless. and in that moment, it’s like nothing else matters but him, but this.

you’ve never felt anything like this—so intense, so consuming.

“i’m on my period.”

jungkook bites his bottom lip. 

“so?”

“i think i’m gonna be more sensitive and it's gonna be so messy—”

“are you okay with being more sensitive? we don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to.” he insist, putting you first. your eyes flicker to his cock, poking through his jeans. "and mess is just mess. we can clean it up."

“i want to,” you say. “should we just put a towel underneath?” 

he nods, getting up from your bed and out the hall to the linen closet. there, he picks the thicket towel and hurries back to your room. he bends over and places the towel on your spot. you get up to go to the bathroom and freshen up as he prepares. 

when you get back, jungkook is already naked. he grabs you by the waist and pins you down on the bed. 

“let me suck your dick first.”

jungkook gulps. 

“actually, c-can i.. can i fuck your tits first?”

you laugh, puckering up for him. he leans over and kisses you. against the kiss, you answer him; “whatever you want, honey.”

with that, jungkook sets himself on top and places his cock in between your boobs. his cock is bigger than ever. you take it with two hands, pumping him slowly and adding some pressure to it. he throws his head back, hissing at the perfection of your touch.

“f-fuck…”

then, you let go and hold your boobs together. jungkook then begins to pump himself in between. the tip of his cock pokes out every so often, causing him to pant at the sight. you lower your chin, opening your mouth for his cock to enter it. jungkook takes the hint and shoves his dick inside. 

you suck on it.

twirling your tongue around and playing with his tip—jungkook just might combust. you breathe through your nose as he begins to fuck your mouth. he can’t help it and you wouldn’t want it any other way. jungkook fucks your mouth in a desperate and almost brutal way. god, did he need this. 

he loves this. 

jungkook places his hands against the wall to help his stability. as he pulls himself out, you hold his cock with your two hands and continue to give him a handjob. he loses his breath for a second when he looks down and sees you drag your tongue around his hard cock. 

he moans, eyes shut and the feeling of the pit of his stomach twisting. 

“g-gonna cum—fuck, fuck, fuck!” jungkook chants.

you suck his dick more intensely. taking in every inch of him and tiring your inner cheeks out—he finally cums inside your mouth. 

pulls out, you don’t let go. you continue to pump his length and kiss it. 

jungkook feels like he’s going insane. he moves his body and matches to your eye level. he kisses you, tasting a bit of himself. 

“thank you.”

“any time, daddy.”

“oh god—”

you laugh. 

jungkook wipes the cum that spilled outside of your mouth with his thumb and shoves it in your mouth. you suck it clean. 

“do you want me to eat you out?”

“that’s nasty!” you cry, hating the idea. “just put it in.”

jungkook smirks. “no prep?”

“aren’t i wet already?”

he ignores you and fixes your position. he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him. jungkook then places himself on top of you and his cock in between your legs. he parts your folds, looking down at your bloody entrance.

“ready?”

you nod, lacing your hands together around his neck. he lets out a breathy moan as he sinks himself inside you. 

you wince. 

“f-fuck, should i pull out?”

you shake your head. “n-no.”

“does it hurt?”

“yeah.”

he lowers his head, placing kisses on your neck and collarbone. “sorry, mama.”

“why are you so fucking big?” you hiss, feeling his thickness push inside you even more. your body jolts and he chuckles. 

“that big?”

“mhmm,” you agree, closing your eyes to help regulate the burning feeling in between your legs. “j-just keep going. think it’s better when you—oh, f-fuck. yeah. like t-that, daddy. s-so nghhh, f-fuck. so good.”

“you like that, mama?” jungkook asks, pumping himself inside and out of you deeper and deeper. “fuck, you’re so tight. so fucking tight. can we do this again next month?”

"oh my god!"

you hit his shoulders and he laughs. 

it’s not long before your arms wrap around him. you drag your nails against his skin, digging deep as he fucks you. 

jungkook rests his forehead against yours. there, he watches as you make fuck me eyes at him, and as you wince and gasp between each thrust. your arms move up, holding onto his shoulders. 

then, you feel it. 

the tingle in between your legs and the tightness that follows. jungkook’s cock throbs inside you and you feel it like never before. 

wrapped in his warmth, your heart swells with a love that feels like a tsunami—overwhelming and unstoppable. it’s a powerful wave that crashes over, rising higher with every shared look, every gentle touch. you can feel it building inside me, a rush of emotions that surges forth like water cascading from a great height, and you’re completely swept away.

you’re done for.

the intimacy of this moment is everything. his pants and murmurs of ‘i love you’s echo in your ears, and the way he looks at you with light in his eyes make your heart race like never before. 

it makes you want to cry. 

you’ve known and felt loved by jungkook before. for a long time now actually… but never like this. never has it ever felt this raw and real. 

never has it ever felt this consuming. 

it engulfs you, leaving me breathless yet exhilarated. in this moment, everything else fades away. there are no worries, no doubts—just you and jungkook suspended in time, hearts beating in sync. you can feel the tide of your feelings, crashing and receding, drawing me closer to him with each pulse.

as you gaze into his eyes, you realize that this love isn’t just a fleeting moment in time. 

it’s endless. 

uh oh. 

i’m falling in love. 

you want to surrender to it completely. to be swept away in the depths of our intimacy. with jungkook, there’s a promise of haven in chaos and as the waves of love continue to swell, you know that you’re more than ready to embrace every moment. 

to let this tsunami carry you wherever it may lead.

“fuck, ___… a-are you crying? i’m sorry. i’ll—”

you hold onto him. 

uh oh.

i’m falling in love again.

eyes burning with your tears, heart lighter than ever. 

“i love you, jungkook.”

“i love you too, mama.”

jungkook kisses you, continuing to ask if you’re okay. you assure him you are and that period sex is a lot more emotional than you expected it to be. it’s not freaky—it’s just a fucking moment. he continues to fuck you, digging in deeper and deeper. 

you think to yourself; no one will ever know me the way he does. 

no one will ever love me and want me as wholeheartedly as he does… for that, you’re grateful and fall in love with the closeness everything has brought you two. 

you lose yourself to him.

he carries you through 3 more orgasms before helping you up from bed, starting you and bath, and cleaning you. together, you two sit in the bathtub and hold each other. you two talk about the plans that you have and what to expect during the next 3 months. 

as you lay next to jungkook, his soft breathing fills the quiet room. his body sinks deeper into sleep. you feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours, his arm draped loosely over your waist, pulling you closer. the warmth of his skin against yours, the weight of him in the stillness—it all feels like home.

the world outside could be moving a million miles an hour, but here, with him, time seems to slow down, just for the two of you.

yet, something stirs within you, a reminder of a truth you’ve held onto for years—time doesn’t stop for broken hearts. it never has, it never will. yet, it always seems to move a little slower when love slips through your fingertips—when it’s about him.

something you’ve always known about loving jungkook is that he fears the end. he’s never been good with losing people or things, never able to fully let go. he loves and lives like he’s running out of time, even though he isn’t. but that’s what makes him so different, so captivating—he loves in full force. he loves with his entire heart... and he loves with all his time.

as his breaths even out, you stay awake, thoughts swirling around you. you realize how long it took to get here, how many battles you fought—most of them with yourself.

pride had been a constant companion, keeping you at arm's length from the very love you craved. there were moments where you couldn’t imagine letting yourself be this vulnerable, this open. loving him meant risking the one thing you protected the most—your heart.

but somewhere along the way, you let that pride slip away, piece by piece. maybe it was the way he looked at you, the way he never let go, no matter how many times you tried to push him away. maybe it was realizing that you didn’t have to be so strong all the time, that with him, you didn’t have to carry the weight of everything alone. the moment you put pride aside, everything shifted—time, love, and life all started falling into place.

you’ve both waited for this.

for the space to just be with each other without the weight of past mistakes or the fear of losing what you’d built. now, time feels like it’s on your side. for so long, it seemed like you were always too late or too soon, like everything was just out of reach. but here, in this moment, with his warmth wrapping around you, you know you’ve finally caught up to where you were meant to be.

he stirs a little, tightening his arm around you as he shifts closer. a soft smile tugs at your lips, the kind of smile that only comes when you realize that all the walls you’d built were finally down. you’ve let go of the need to protect yourself from him, because you know now that loving him is worth more than holding onto pride.

the first light of morning spills through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. jungkook wakes slowly, his sleepy eyes finding yours, a lazy grin spreading across his face. in that moment, without either of you needing to say a word, you both know—time isn’t something to fear anymore.

it’s finally yours.

“coffee?” he mumbles, voice still heavy with sleep.

"coffee."

you move together, the rhythm of your morning routine as easy and familiar as breathing. side by side, you make coffee, the smell of it filling the kitchen, your hands brushing as you pass him his cup.

and as you stand there, cups in hand, you feel a quiet sense of peace. the pride that once kept you from this moment is gone, and in its place is something stronger—trust, love, and the certainty that no matter what time brings, you’ll face it together.

whether it's the beginning or the end;

you and jungkook are timeless.

[golden-moony]

king of my heart | pt. 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

------------------------------------------------------

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, landonorris, and 74,922 others!

yourusername life lately 💌

user1 swiftie, romcom lover and f1 fan... she's really one of us🩷

user2 and that's why she's the girlies' bestie

user3 QUEEN WE MISSED U SO MUCH

user4 as pretty as always 😍

user5 i'm probably reaching here but posting THAT movie feels like a statement's being made 👀

user6 right?? after all the drama she goes and posts that movie title and i just don't know how to feel user7 user6 thank god she just posted the title cause if she'd posted the "you can't lose something you never had" line, i would've lost my mind 😥 user8 or maybe yn just likes the movie??? user9 user8 THIS!! people act like there's a secret meaning to everything and i'm tired of that crap

user10 i'm a simple girl: i see yn and taylor swift in the same post, i like

user11 so what happened? were you starting to lose relevance and decided to come back?😂😂

user12 she needs to pay the bills somehow 😂 user13 girlie came back to keep playing the victim lol user14 y'all need to get a life asap.

user15 YOU DROP THIS QUEEN 👑

carmenmmundt gorgeous woman 😍

yourusername you are💗 user16 OMG MY FAV GIRLS INTERACTING user17 carmen please please please stay away from this problematic woman😕

user18 soooo are we gonna talk about lando liking the post or what

user19 girl i can't do this again user20 can't believe lando is back again with this bitch😒 user21 user20 wtf??? it's just a like omfg chill.

user22 yn please don't leave us again 🥺

📞 calling Pato

[yn; normal] [pato; cursive]

"Hi-"

"I'm not gonna lie, you are either very brave or very stupid for calling me right after the videos of your little date with Lando are going viral. Did you get tired of hiding your relationship?"

"...Guess I deserve that."

"[sights] What do you want, yn?"

"I swear I won't take up much of your time. I just want to talk... well, apologize, actually. I'd prefer to do it face to face rather than over the phone but I know that right now I'm probably the last person you wanna see. At least this way, if you don't wanna keep listening to me, you can just end the call."

"Well, I'm very tempted to end the call right now."

"Pato, I-"

"However, I'm also very curious about what you have to say."

"So...?"

"So I'll give you a chance to talk. But I promise you yn, if I hear any lame excuses, I will hang up and block you. Are we clear?"

"Hundred percent clear."

"Then talk."

"Well... first of all, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I promise it was never my intention to hurt you, even if I ended up doing it anyway. I should've told you from the beginning the kind of relationship I had with Lando and I should've been honest with you, especially when my feelings towards you changed to something deeper. I kno-"

"Hold on. What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"What did you just say?"

"That I'm sorry I lied to yo-"

"No, no. The part about your feelings."

"Oh. Well... you heard me. And I don't know why you sound so surprised. I mean, what happened between me and Lando in Spain was a stupid and terrible decision I made, and I should've known better cause my feelings for you were getting stronger."

"Then why did you sleep with him?"

"I... [sights]. I've thought about it a lot in the last few weeks, you know? I was trying to put all the blame on Lando when in the end I was the one who took the initiative. We were just going to talk to end that situationship once and for all, and then I kissed him. And instead of stopping him when he was going for more, I just let it happen cause in my head it was a form of goodbye. Clearly I ended up feeling guilty but the damage was done. And when I could've made things right by telling you the truth about what happened, I didn't. I was embarrassed, but mostly scared of losing the best man I've ever known... but that ended up happening anyway, and I'm to blame for that."

"..."

"Pato?"

"Did you love him?"

"No. We started out as friends and one day I realized I was attracted to him, one night one thing led to another and we became friends with benefits ever since. He didn't want a relationship at that time and neither did I. But in the last few months that changed for me. I wanted a partner, a committed relationship. Lando wasn't that and I was tired of being just a "casual thing". So no. I liked him, but I never loved him."

"So what was that date night about?"

"Just us being adults and having a real and necessary conversation. I had things to apologize for and so did he. I think Lando and I finally found common ground and are ready to move forward... not with each other, just to be clear. Just friends and nothing else."

"For real this time?"

"For real this time. My priorities and my heart are elsewhere."

"Oh, really? Where?"

"I could tell you or I could show you. To be honest, and if you let me, I'd rather show you. You know, actions speak louder than words."

"Yeah, I've heard that. You have any idea?"

"It depends. What are you doing on Friday?"

pacers

liked by elbaoward, tyresehaliburton, arrowmclaren, and 43,942 others!

pacers We had some motorsport representation in the house tonight!

user1 ynpato being hard launched (again?) by the pacers was not on my bingo card but i appreciate it🫶

user2 this is so random and i love it!! user3 the pacers earned my respect after this 🫡 user4 pacers stonks after this hard launch📈📈📈

user5 YNPATO BASKETBALL DATE? WE WON FR

user6 this is like straight out of a movie 😻 user7 THEY'RE SO ROMCOM CODED

user8 NOOO PATO NOT HER AGAIN 😫😫

user9 right? my week has been ruined. user10 keep cryin' haters 😘

indycar Hi yn and pato!! 👋

user11 basket date a few days after her post? she's an icon AND the mastermind fr 💅

user12 context?? user13 user12 her last ig post included a pic of "how to lose a guy in 10 days" and some people were speculating it could mean something, now yn goes with pato to a basketball game just like in the movie 😂 user14 SHE MANIFESTED IT AS THE QUEEN SHE IS🙌

user15 real question is: yourusername did Pato get you a soda?

patriciooward of course i did! 🙄 yourusername not only that but he also got his head in the game😏🏀 user16 I'M LIVING FOR THIS REFERENCES

user17 they make such a beautiful couple omg🥹

user18 are y'all forgetting she was in a date with lando just a few days ago????

user19 she belongs to the streets fr user20 the day y'all understand yn can be friends with lando or anyone is when you'll finally grow up.

user21 not related but she always slays with her outfits🔥

user22 fashion icon for real 🤩 user23 i want her wardrobe so bad😩

user24 YNPATO CONFIRMED 🚀🚀🚀

user25 i just wanna know if pato can fight 🤺

user26 i wanna be her so badly 😩

user27 same girl, same

yourusername posted to their story!

yourusername

liked by arrowmclaren, oscarpiastri, frosenqvist, and 79,889 others!

yourusername And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for. King of my heart, body and soul 🧡

user1 MOM AND DAD ARE THRIVING 😍

user2 and we love to see it! user3 this is their world and we're just living in it

user4 yn is stronger than me cause if Pato looked at me like in the second pic... 😳😳

user5 IKR??? I'M DEAD user6 i was not ready for that, i'm currently on the floor user7 i meaaaan she's dating him, she already won in life

user8 THE CAPTION???? omg they're so cute🥹

user9 YNPATO AND TAYLOR GANG WE WON

user10 relationship goals for real ❤️‍🔥

user11 tired of being a spectator, I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE😭

landonorris if you three weren't that cute i'd try to steal Norbi from you

patriciooward back off, Norris 🤺 landonorris watch out, O'Ward 🤺 yourusername oh hell no mclaren arrowmclaren may i have permission to ground these kids? mclaren you may proceed 😉 patriciooward WHAT landonorris THE BETRAYAL user12 i used to pray for interactions like these 😭😭 user13 user12 we've come so far 😭 user14 WAAAAR IS OOOOVER

user15 yn's living her best life and i'm so happy for her 🤧

elbaoward I don't appreciate being left out of the photo, but I love you lovebirds anyway 💘

yourusername imma post a dump of just beautiful pics of you😘 love u elbaoward i'll be waiting then ☺️ patriciooward i also want a photo dump🥺 yourusername no 😚 user16 i want to belong to this family so bad, do you need a nanny for Norbi or anything?

user17 atp I'm just waiting for the engagement announcement

user18 same but i don't think i'll survive it user19 CAN U IMAGINE? OMG

user20 tag yourself i'm Norbi in the last pic

patriciooward te amo, preciosa ❤️

yourusername love u more, handsome 🥰 user21 AND I LOVE YOU BOTH

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65 @littlexscarletxwitch @sheslikeacurse @charlottejpg @lichterfee @callsignwidow @phantomxoxo @stinkyjax @rubywingsracing @willowpains @urfavsgf @biitch-with-wifi @lightdragonrayne @illicitverstappen @herebereblogs @tvdtw4ever @nataliambc @norwayxo

author's note: AND THAT'S A WRAP! Thank you so much for giving this story a chance💖 To my Lando girlies, don't be mad! He was a jerk in this story but I'll post another one where he gets the love he actually deserves. And to my Pato girlies, stay tuned! I plan to post more stories with him cause it's what our lovely man deserves. And if you want me to write about some other driver, feel free to send me a request! I'll see what I can do🧡 See y'all soon!

[charlottesbookclub]

ser gwayne hightower fluff alphabet 💚💚

Summary: just what it says on the tin: fluff alphabet for my boy gwayne (do people still do these anymore? idc I'm doing it bc I love reading them and I thought I'd try writing one myself 😌😌)

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader; spouse!reader; established relationship (marriage); we are all going to have fluff-induced cavities after this, I fear (it's more absolute tooth-rotting fluff, y'all!); let me know if I've missed anything! ☺️

Words: 2985

Author’s Note: I'm meeting with my phd advisor today which is going to be totally fine (she is so super sweet) but my brain decided we were going to have major anxiety about it, and what better way to distract myself than by writing fluff for gwayne!! 🥰💚 I've never done one of these before, but I always enjoyed reading them, so I thought I'd try it myself! ☺️ I like that it lets me explore his character without having the pressure of a plot lol

as always, I hope y'all enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!! ☺️💕

template by: magical-warlock

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Honestly anything. I feel like if it was something you enjoyed, Gwayne would find himself enjoying it too, just because you were happy. But I think like he would really like going on leisurely walks or horse rides together. It’s an activity that allows you to talk and get to know one another, but where you can also explore the beauty of a garden or forest together. I could totally see him bringing a book along and reading it aloud to you under a tree.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Everything lmao. But your eyes stand out to him, especially when he can read all the things you don’t say out loud in them. I feel like he would also appreciate intellect, common sense, and wit. He is clearly sooooo done with Criston’s weird dumb bullshit, and I think someone who was rational and level-headed but not afraid to crack a joke or two (especially at Criston’s expense lmaooooo) would be really appealing to him.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

My mans would not be much help at first because he’s freaking out too. He wouldn’t want to see you in any kind of distress, especially if he’s not sure where it came from or what’s causing it. I think if it happened more than once and you talked about it and expressed what you needed, he would be more than willing to do whatever you needed from him. My sense is that his first reaction (after the initial freak out) would just be to hold you really tightly and whisper reassurances to you until you were feeling better.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Given the society that Gwayne lives in, his expectations have kind of been set for him in the sense that his future is pretty much expected to involve marriage and children. And honestly, I get the sense that this isn’t something he’s necessarily opposed to. Especially since he found you and realizes he gets to marry someone he actually loves, he’d be pretty thrilled about the whole prospect. It just doesn’t seem like life on miliary campaign is something he’s super jazzed about, so his ideal future would likely be just settling down with you in Oldtown. 

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

I think it’s pretty mixed, especially depending on the context. Again, given the societal expectations placed on him, I do think he might tend to be a little more dominant (especially if he thinks/knows that he’s right about something) but I also don’t think he would ever force you to do something you didn’t want to. He’d also back off on just about any subject if he noticed you were getting upset about it. I also think it really depends on your temperament, since I think he could really go either way depending on what energy you brought to the relationship.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It would be really hard for him to stay mad at you (and vice versa). Unless it was something truly awful, I just don’t think he could stay upset with you for very long. As we’ve already established, he’s a pretty rational person who seems to value clear communication, so I think “fights” with him would be more like difficult discussions about hard issues rather than an actual fight. This is really nice because then you both get to speak your mind and actually come out with a better understanding of the other person and a stronger relationship because of it.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

I do tend to think that he’s a pretty grateful person, but I think he’s better at showing it than saying it sometimes. Not that he can’t verbalize his gratitude – he totally can – I just think that gestures come more naturally to him (like winning a tourney in your honor, buying you something extravagant, taking you on a nice trip, etc.)

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Yes and no. If there was something he knew that would put you in danger if you knew it, he would not tell you. He would never forgive himself if something happened as a result. Pretty much anything else though, he’ll tell you. He won’t always offer everything, but I think he would have a hard time lying to you or keeping things from you if you asked about them. Depending on what it was, he might tell you a sanitized version of the story because he doesn’t want you to worry, but he’d be as honest as he felt he could be in the moment.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?

I think in any good relationship (romantic, platonic, or otherwise) people change each other for the better. Gwayne is no exception to this, and I think it’s likely that he picks up habits from you (just as you do from him). I can definitely see that if he had you as a confidante to rant about Criston or just to express his worries and doubts about politics, his family, etc. that he might be a little less overtly antagonistic and instead might just smile and nod a little more but internally be like “wait til my s/o hears about this fucking bullshit.” He’d definitely still give Critston attitude tho

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Yes and no. Gwayne is a fairly confident person, and I think he feels pretty comfortable with himself and with his relationship with you for the most part. However, I don’t think he’s immune to jealously, especially if it were to seem like another person was paying you a bit too much attention. In that scenario, I’m sure he’d have some quip at that person’s expense and whisk you away or be very obvious about using your title as his spouse. The one thing that might make him feel truly insecure is if it seemed like you were becoming interested in someone else. But let’s be real, if you get to marry Ser Gwayne Hightower, that’s not fucking happening 

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Oh, he’s definitely a good kisser. I don’t think he was one to have a lot of trysts prior to meeting you (despite his bravado, I think he really values an emotional or intellectual connection to the person he’s with, meaning I don’t think many of the flings he might have had made it all the way to the hook-up stage). But he’s a handsome man who likely had a lot of admirers, and I do think he got a bit of practice with kissing in his youth. He’s absolutely very attentive to what you like, so I think he’s only gotten to be an even better kisser over the course of your relationship. In terms of your first kiss with him, these lyrics from “All My Love” by Noah Kahan are very applicable here: “I leaned in for a kiss thirty feet from where your parents slept / and I looked so confident, babe / I swear, I was scared to death.” Especially early on, I think he really wanted to project this confident and suave vibe that he totally knew what he was doing, but as soon as he realized he was in love with you, he was actually a nervous wreck and desperately did not want to mess it up. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

re: Gwayne’s penchant for gestures, I have a feeling he had a whole well-written speech planned out (he based it on the dramatic love confessions he read in old ballads). However, despite all his preparation, I think the confession actually ended up just slipping out one time when you were together and he couldn’t keep it in any longer. He probably stumbled over his words and was very embarrassed about it and his face turned bright pink, but it was so adorable and endearing that you actually preferred it to whatever speech he might have had planned.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the wedding be like?

As I mentioned above, I think that marriage is pretty much a given for Gwayne considering the realities of the culture in which he lives. He also probably didn’t propose in the traditional sense, since the marriage was likely arranged, but I can absolutely envision him proposing to you privately after the betrothal has been officially announced and after he’s spent enough time with you to realize that he is genuinely in love with you. It would be sort of a love confession/proposal where he basically says “I know you were chosen by others to be my spouse, but I also personally choose you because I love you.” The wedding would be fairly large and befitting of his rank and station, and it’s likely that neither of you would have much choice in how it was conducted. Gwayne definitely likes the idea of a large and fairly public wedding because it’s a way for him to show his pride for both his house and his betrothed.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Very sweet things! Mostly “my dear,” “my love,” and “dearheart,” with a sprinkle of “my darling” mixed in on occasion.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?

He gets very love-struck, especially when he’s with you. Spending time with you is like spending time in another world for him, and I do think he becomes a little more uninhibited when he’s around you. If people watch the two of you together, his lovesickness is pretty obvious to anyone who knows him. Even if they speak to just him, they might notice slight changes, like the fact that he talks about you a lot and always finds a way to bring you into the conversation. He’s careful though, and would never reveal the depths of his affection for you to someone who might you it against him or hurt you to get back at him. In terms of expressing feelings, as I mentioned above, I get the sense that he’s one for gestures that demonstrate his feelings. He gets nervous and stumbles over his words more than usual when he tries to verbalize things to you, and that’s an unusual and uncomfortable experience for him at first. The longer you’re together though, the better he gets at it.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag about their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Because your betrothal and marriage are pretty much public knowledge, Gwayne definitely feels comfortable being upfront about the relationship. And oh he totally brags. He’s very proud to call you his spouse and is not afraid to make sure everyone knows about it. Based on societal and cultural expectations, I don’t think there would be a lot of open PDA (like hugs, kisses on the lips, etc.). But hand kisses?????????? All the fucking time babeyyyyyyy!!!!!!!! So many kisses on the knuckles wherever and whenever – it’s his favorite little gesture of affection

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Mans is a killer shit talker. We know this. He can and will throw shade with the best of them. He wants to know all the drama in your friend circle and will happily judge everyone with you for hours. That one “friend” of yours who turned out to be wildly toxic and conniving? Well he never liked them anyway and he’s got a bulletpointed list of reasons why. You start a conversation with “can I be mean for a moment?” or “you know I love this person, but…” and he is SAT. He’s always on your side and ready to talk absolute shit about anyone who caused you even a minor inconvenience. 

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

At the end of the day, he’s something of a hopeless romantic and would do whatever he could to make you happy. There are a lot of times when the cultural and societal realities of the world he lives in prevent him from doing everything he might want, but if it came down to it, he would do almost anything for you. A lot of his romantic gestures are a little cliché, but in the best, most endearing way possible. As he gets to know you though, and as your relationship matures, he’ll probably get a little more creative and do things that are more specific to the two of you.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Believes in you and supports you 100000% no question. Again though, I think this impulse can be a bit hampered by the social structures in which he lives. He’ll do whatever he can to help you achieve your goals, but there are limits based on birth, status, etc. that you are both cognizant of and which might influence what those goals look like and how far either of you would go to achieve them.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

We’re talking about Ser “I’d rather stay at a comfy inn than camp out” Gwayne Hightower here – I think he appreciates a level of routine and comfort. There’s so much in his world that is chaotic and out of his control that I think he would really relish having that consistency and stability in his relationship. Not that he would never try anything new – especially if you asked him to – I just think his natural inclination would be to have a comforting routine that works for both of you.

U nderstanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Considering he picked up on Alicent and Criston’s weird vibes in like 5 seconds, I’d say he’s pretty good at reading people. He definitely makes an effort to get to know you, and can confidently say that he knows you very well at this point. Especially since you’re someone he cares about and spends a lot of time with, he’s quite good at reading your moods and guessing how you’re feeling.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Very important. Again though, there are cultural expectations placed on both of you that may necessitate you and Gwayne placing your relationship further down your list of priorities than you normally would choose to. If it were completely up to him though, his relationship with you would be right up there at the top with his loyalty to his house and his family.

W ild Card - A random fluff headcanon

I talked about this much more extensively in this fic, but the necklace you gave him? He. Does. Not. Take. It. Off. EVER. It’s his little piece of you that he gets to carry everywhere, and he could never ever bear to part with it.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In private, abso-fucking-lutely! As I mentioned in the PDA section, he’s more retrained in public, but still likes to demonstrate his affection for you via hand kisses. In private though, he loves to cuddle. And honestly, he doesn’t really care where or in what position – curled up in bed, sprawled on a couch, his head in your lap, you tucked against his chest – he just likes to be touching you and knowing that you’re right there next to him, that you’re safe, and that you love him.

Y earning - How do they cope when they’re missing their partner?

It’s a reality he has to face more than he would like, given the exterior expectations placed on him. If he had his way, he would live quietly with you at his family’s property near Oldtown forever. When he has to leave though, he always asks for your favor to take with him, regardless of how long you’ve been together or how many times you’ve bestowed it. As mentioned above, he also always wears the necklace you gave him. Definitely a top tier professional yearner though – he misses you and thinks of you the whole time he’s gone.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

This answer will be pretty similar to the answer for “V” – yes he is, but he also has to be cognizant of outside pressures that might cause him to act in ways that don’t always align with his personal inclinations. He would both die and kill for you though, not that you’re asking him to do either. In fact, you’re usually telling him not to do either of those things.

[katyahina]

The 'haired' helmets are strange..

It IS odd how we get to wear the characters' hairstyles, as it is just really unlikely they're scalps! I suppose the explanation is the same as why we are able to completely change upon looking into a mirror at Roundtable's Hold; as long as the Tarnished is guided by Greater Will, they'll have its aid and be transformed into whatever they see fit to keep carrying on! So I think the implication here is that we do, physically, grow the hair of the demigods (or champions) upon trying to tap on their power! I think if GW abandons a Tarnished, or if they abandon it, they lose this 'ability', which our playable character never does, so..

I am not sure whether it is Maliketh's own long mane or also a decoration! I'd like to think the former, in which case, same logic as with hair of Malenia, Godfrey and Radahn applies! Vargram's "hair" definitely is a decoration, and specifically for the purpose of imitating shadowbeasts:

Ensha's armour goes even further and not only gives us a hairdo, but makes us a skeleton:

We even get his power of slight regeneration, similar to Erdtree's normal powers:

All implications considered, I really doubt that this is just how armour looks, especially considering no change in size. We are not 'wearing' the skull, we ARE the skull now fhhsfd And this time the NPC data inside simply exists because Ensha does use NPC code and mechanics. So, we turn into a corpse! Again, should not matter much since as long as we're carried by GW we don't need to eat or sleep or... anything, really. (I'll also die on the hill of the theory that Ensha was one of the deceased Marika's offspring whose Mausoleum crashed and what was left from him crawled out but that's another story fdhfhds)

Here are other instances of hair simply decorating a helm:

Niall is that one guy we fight in Castle Sol, so similarity in this case ALSO checks out! Also cute idea: what if decoration for the helmets of Godrick's Knights IS his own hair? ;-;

That could also be speculated about Redmane Knights, but I feel like it'd be more appropriate for Godrick's. Radahn would be stingy about his amazing lion mane whereas Godrick can not only take body parts but also give them XDDDD yeah yeah terrible whatever

The black hair on Night Cavalry's helmet can be removed, also confirming that in this case it is a decoration. This hair does have interesting flowing animation though! Maybe it IS the hair of Night Cavalry themselves, still having their shadowy energy, but cut and attached again to their own helmets (kind of like Ciaran from DS1 decorated her helmet with her own braid!)

Another case of hair not being actual hair but part of the mask; the way hair is placed, it'd had to grow from like, eyebrows level and face itself or something fdhfdsdfh Maybe this style with braids and grey hair was intended to refer at Godfrey's? Alternatively, what IF their faces are actually furry/animalistic despite otherwise human build, so the hair doubles as fur? We don't see them behind the mask, after all? A food for a thought lol

^ More of 100% 'mask' types of these

The water dancer in blue gave the sword to Malenia's teacher, the blind guy that once sealed the God of Rot himself, and these warriors in blue appear to be following the same philosophy of "ever running water preventing stagnation, so, rot itself" as him! Although this head piece imitates just a follower and not the man himself (as far as we are aware....), perhaps the sentiment is strong enough to give us the hairdo too x) Again, funny enough, it seems to resemble the Lady of the Lake fairy herself!

I suspected the case of 'sharing hair' with Cleanrot Knights too, but upon closer look I can tell it is supposed to be some fabric/rags, rather than hair or hairlike accessory! Probably more efficient to imitate the look with rags rather than something hairlike tbh, considering the lenght of the thing! So I think the design is more meant to represent Malenia's own unhappy fate, with short tuft being the "hair" and the longer tails being the "wings" :

_______________

In conclusion, it is kind of easy to deduce which hair become our actual hair for the time being because of golden grace 'reshaping' us and which hair is just decor! But it is really interesting stuff to think about all the way!

[fillinforlater]

Hello plz feel free to replace my Eunbi ask with a Rose daddy kink feet smut. She has maybe my fave feet for K idol and I dream of the day I can see this smut published. White polish Rose feet stuff, licking, sucking, tasting, feet fucking ofc, and also getting her pussy pounded cumming inside, but also cumming all over her feet. Plot line you can decide. Thanks QT.

The Interview

Male Reader x Roseanne Park

Length: 2188 words

Tags: feet kink, cheating, daddy kink, an interview gone wild, infidelity, fucking feet, feet licking, footjob, masturbation, creampie, hair pulling, cum drinking, rough sex, folding in half

TW: no editing lol

(A/N: the final request of my first request phase back in early 2022. This one is so old, sorry that you had to wait for so long buddy @sooyadelicacies. I hope you enjoy it lol)

"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"

"W-well, it's hard to focus, like, your legs are literally pointing down at them. Your sandals barely hide the rosie!"

Rose rolls her eyes. Slender arms folded like a pretzel, she leans back into the beige cushion of her chair, fifteen-hundred, made for her ass and her ass alone. In annoyance she watches her useless boyfriend put the back of his pen on her calves but even a heavy sigh does not stop his advance. In one continuous trail, he drags the pen to her knee before she stops him with a snarky remark.

"Will you stop it? This is important to me. I need your focus on this." She taps the clipboard in his hand, knowing all too well that his horny ass has not written down a single practice question. "Please practice this with me."

"Nah, I'd much rather practice with my cock in your pussie, Rosie~" he responds, face in a smirk so disgustingly self-satisfied at his pathetic attempt at a joke that no one would argue with him looking downright ugly. Rose turns to the side, arms entangled rightly.

"You don't give a fuck about this, hm?" Rose fires back and grips her boyfriend's wrist. "We can fuck afterwards, but not now. I need your help, so please, at least try to act like a journalist."

There he goes again, blank stare focussed on her feet, her face, turning to a smirk as he finds another horny rebuttal:

"I'm no journalist, I'd much rather be an explorer. I could write books about how smooth your legs feel and how tight your pussy is."

"He is a journalist, he can surely write better than you can ever dream off!"

Rose's shout makes the room go quiet. Not that there were more people anywhere near them—but it feels like every atom has stopped moving and only motionless, perfect silence remains. Her boyfriend sinks backwards into the couch, arms folded the same way she has, an eyebrow raised in more than light concern.

"Oh. It's a guy doing the interview?"

#

"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"

You straighten your neck, terrified at Rose’s carelessly spoken words. It was only for a fleeting moment that your eyes caught her bare feet, the way her slender legs seem to point down at them, it was impossible not to look. You could promise her that this was only because she decided not to wear any shoes, which would have explained it, but nonetheless, you are in deep shit.

“Excuse my behavior, please,” you quickly respond, beads of sweat forming at the side of your temple. “I was just spacing out. I know I shouldn’t, but please, forgive me.”

“You’re taking this too seriously,” Rose laughs and leans back into her chair. “Is this your first interview with…”

“With someone of your caliber—yes, though I have never felt nervousness rise in me to the point such a mistake happens. I really am sorry.” You bow your head to the idol, hoping to overplay any and every thought of her thinking that you’re thinking about her feet in all kinds of ways. “Shall we begin?”

You pull out your recording device, ready to hit play and make this the professional question and answer session it was supposed to be, but Rose interjects. God knows what she is thinking when she leans forward, slender fingers right above your thigh, voice husky and deep.

“You want them on your cock, right?”

“What?!”

“You want my feet around your cock, right

“Daddy?”

“E-excuse me?!”

“I can see you drooling.” Rose captures a string of saliva with her thumb, blowing away your coverage behind decency, and spreading it over your dry lips. “I can see the want in your eyes when you look at my feet. Aren’t they pretty?”

“R-Rose, this is highly—”

"Inappropriate?" she asks, a look of brattiness and disappointment on her stunning features as her pointy, purple painted nail pokes your cheek. “Inappropriate, like staring at a lady’s feet while fantasizing about them?”

“I-I told you I’m sorry. A-and I was not fantasizing in the slightest.”

Your explanation ends with a wince. The pointy ends of Rose’s delicate fingers sink into the skin of your neck. You throw your head back. The pain is sharp, severe enough that you want it to end, but your hands still tightly hold onto the clipboard and recording device.

“Now you’re lying, Daddy.” Rose repeats that damn word without care. “Why can’t you admit that you like my feet?”

“Because…” you stammer, trying to escape the idol by sinking deeper into the couch, but Rose gets closer to you. Her face right above yours, her thighs trapping yours, her other hand is right on your—

“Because then I wouldn’t be able to hold back!”

Rose is gone, the small of her back back in her seat, her entire body far away from yours. Her entire body? No. You could never forget about her bare feet, which she raises from the carpet and places them on your piping hot bulge. In an attempt at torture, she giggles while rubbing you in between her tiny toes, curling them, pressing them against the head of your hidden cock.

“What if I don’t want you to hold back?” she whispers and fiddles with the top of her dress.

“Rose, I—”

"Don’t talk, Daddy, just

“Take me.”

Drop these useless devices, there will be no record of what is about to happen. Rose’s last sentence has ended the interview before it even started. If you can’t talk with your mouth, your hands will have to do the talking. Nothing stops you from popping open your dress pants, yanking them down your legs, your bulge the only real(ly massive) obstacle, and getting a hold of Rose’s feet.

She smiles, pale cheeks blushing at your sight and the feeling of your cock on her soles. You adjust them, making a perfect pocket to thrust into, but before you can jerk your hips upwards, Rose has taken the lead with this absolutely dreamy look in her eyes.

“Oh Daddy~” Rose moans and moves her feet up and down your length. “You are so big and girthy. Let me worship you with my feet, pretty please.”

“I-I… you’re already doing it, Rosie,” you hiss, her soft soles feeling incredible, yet you wish for some kind of lubrication for things to go smoothly.

Rose nods, her breathing getting more rapid by the second: “It’s just that I—I can’t hold back anymore. Daddy, I need to make you cover my feet, Daddy!”

Not holding back, not holding back, not—you grab Rose’s left calf and as she still yelps in shock, you put her toes in your mouth. With all manners thrown out of the window, you slobber all over her pretty little foot, spit covering every inch of her spotless skin. Rose starts to moan, her other foot teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, forcing droplets of clean precum out of the tip.

Done with one foot, you take the other and everything leads up to this vicious cycle of covering one foot in drool while the other massages your member, smearing it with your saliva. You take a second to open your eyes and look at the idol before you. She has melted into the chair, biting the fingers of one hand while the other is rubbing her clothed crotch.

"Take them off," you mindlessly groan, before your tongue twirls around her toes. "Take off your clothes for Daddy."

Rose is eager to nod at you using the uncalled for, yet not unwanted nickname. Her eagerness does not stop there however, as she is quick to get rid of her tight white outfit, the thin strings fly over her head, her skirt travels down her legs. Before they reach her feet, she starts to jerk you off, keeping you hard and horny the few short seconds without stimulation.

"Daddy, please plaster your thick cum on my feet!" Rose moans as she inserts two fingers into her cunt.

"I won't hold back."

Pull her ankles close to you. Rose almost falls off her chair, eyes in surprise, then bliss. She is piercing herself open, her fragile legs weak, fully under her control. She loses her mind, you help her lose it and you lose your mind, she helps you lose it and you lose your train of thought—fuck it, fuck her feet.

"Daddy, y-you really seem to like me feet~"

"Fuck, they are the softest."

Move your hips back and forth, her ankles forth and back, squeeze them tighter around your cock. Watch your tip poke through it, watch Rose's finger move in and out, watch her tongue fall out of her mouth. It's all getting you closer, your breathing is rapid, Rose's too. Is she also—

"Daddy, I'm so~close~" the idol mewls and you thrust faster.

"Finger yourself stupid!" you command. "Watch me paint your feet, fuck!"

Rose's eyes tremble. She can barely focus on your erupting cock as her own sex explodes in a violent, squirting orgasm that leaves her thighs and chair in a messy, wet puddle. A deep, echoing, dumb sounding scream comes from her wide open mouth. She is the opposite of you, quietly relishing in the bliss of a climax that sends strings of cum all over soles, feet, even up to her legs.

Before the tremble of Rose's legs makes your semen fall off of them onto the carpet, you quickly fold her in half. The surprisingly flexible woman now has her cum-covered feet dangling above her delirious, glowing face.

"Open your mouth, baby girl," you whisper and watch Rose instinctively stick out her tongue. Your cum drips from her thin legs and feet straight on her face. Rose licks off whatever she can get in desperate desire, while you poke her exposed labia with your stiff cock.

"How does it taste?" you jokingly ask, ready to penetrate her pristine pussy.

"Is this really the first question to your interview?"

"There was an interview?"

Oh fuck.

"Oh fuck!" Rose vocalizes your inner thought as her pussy engulfs your entire length. You can feel her sensitive walls wrap around you, cling onto you, like she wants to squeeze more of your initial load out of you. No, you first have to get there, but with this incredible tightness and her insanely lewd expression as she swallows your dripping cum, she will have you cumming in no time.

"F-forget the interview," Rose whines. "I'll send you the answers per, per mail."

"No, we'll do the interview. Now," you growl at her, fingers tightly grabbing her small thighs. "You'll answer truthfully, baby girl."

"Hng, I-I can't think!"

"No need to. Just tell me: who fucks you better?"

"Wha—ah!"

Rose screams, laughs when you tickle her feet by spreading the remnants of your first load over her soles. Through all of it you start to thrust slower but harder, the depths of her cunt spread widely by your tip. You watch Rose throw her head back and decide to ask again.

"Who fucks you better, Rose? Your boyfriend or me?"

"You, oh God, you!"

"And who did you wear this white polish for?"

"Y-you, I'm only fucking you."

You ponder for a second, resting a hand on her throat. Rose suddenly has these puppy eyes that lack lewdness but increase your desire to dump a ridiculously large second load in her tight cunt.

"God, you look so breedable," you groan and lean down to her face, strands of rose-gold hair not hiding but increasing her stunningness. "But remember: I'm the one fucking you."

"Yes, Daddy." Rose seems to brace for a hard final fucking, but you don't want to give it to her. You feel great, fully inside her small pussy, her juices around you, keeping you wet and warm.

"Final question, Mrs. sluttiest idol:

"Where do you want my seed?"

"I need it in my pussy, Daddy~"

"You need it?"

"Of course, Daddy~ Fill me up!"

A loving thumb crazing her cheek, that's your final showing of mercy. Her ponytail in one hand, clit pinch with the other, you start to jackhammer into Rose's pussy with all the power the word 'Daddy' has given you. You won't be able to keep this up for long, but Rose is already a mess, nothing compared to the powerful idol from before.

She wants to be the little messy nothing on the chair, drilled by a big cock, her painted feet high in the air, her pussy convulsing. That's the way she wants to milk you, get your seed, and with a final thrust (and final, very harsh pull on her hair) you start to cum inside her.

"So warm, Daddy, ah!"

Fuck the interview or Fuck: The Interview? you think as you see you either losing your job or having the most incredible career of anyone in this industry.

[moonsaver]

Good day moon! Okay I normally don't do asks when it comes to yandere cause it's not my usual thing but seeing the last post you made of Yan!Sunday and his darling, that one where he just desperately wants to have that normalcy in their relationship but couldn't ever have it because of what he's done, made me think of something rather angsty; like how the darling's backlashes against his affections would probably go turn for the worst as time passes on, they don't hate him in a sense because he's really trying hard to not make them hate him and they can see that his love is real (just really fucked up) but that deep urge to hurt the person who took their freedom away is still there, it wouldn't just go away just because he loves them so much that he wouldn't dare to break them. Oh that satisfaction on seeing Sunday looking so hurt after yelling at him, they know it doesn't make them any better than him but at that point, what else is there for them to lose? Maybe in hurting him so subtly, they may find some pity in themselves for him to actually give him some semblance of love but until then, all Sunday ever receives from them are either silent treatment or backlash

Such relationship could only thrive in the worst way possible and maybe Sunday knows that but even then, he still holds out that little (delusional) hope that maybe his darling will still love him someday

Sorry for the rant, it's just that I feel for Sunday but his method will never work and it'll just deeply hurt him and his darling in the end asgfjgsfg also if it's alright, I'd request this but I'll leave it to you with how you write it, be it an imagine or anything else since I'm fine with it!

- Elys

Hello Elys! Im so sorry it took a long time for me to get to your request lol, tons of things got in the way but I remembered this request for a while.

In any case, I feel you've summed it up quite well!

Sunday isn't harsh or as brutal as I imagine him. Unlike my [i have to self advertise here, sorry HAHA] soft yan!blade, Sunday most likely wouldn't even need a bit of working around to be a softer yandere.

He's so loving, it's painful. His love is like despaired poetry for a lover who is still alive, just further than their reach. I imagine his love to be very tender, even as a yandere, if he doesn't become even softer.

And it's hard to convince him he's wrong – mainly because he already knows. But rather that's a bit distorted in his view; instead he thinks it's a wrongdoing against your nature as someone who wants to be free, but correct in the context of the situation rather than actually understanding it is absolutely wrong in general. And he doesn't budge. He's stubborn, almost infuriatingly. And instead of getting angry, I imagine he rather looks disappointed or disgruntled, which somehow does more damage/strikes more fear than anger.

And it's still heartbreaking; frustratingly for both of you, not just yourself.

You lash out, you scream, cry, wail, argue, relentlessly push and resist against him. it's your only way of getting back at him, you're sure as hell you're going to strike the hardest that way. And you relish the hurt you see in the eyes of your captor, but something more sympathetic tugs at you when you see his lovingly sad eyes. It's this cacophony of guilt, frustration, anger, and utter despair at the loss of your freedom. Sunday feels all of it, aswell, and you want to be relieved that he does – if it weren't for the fact he still wasn't letting you go.

He continually withholds your freedom from you. That single injustice to you is enough to weather your patience over time – your anger only burns hotter and hotter, pushing away any semblance of sympathy or reasoning, and it only hurts Sunday more, until you realise what you're doing, and quietly give in to sooth him for the time being. Just a little. Until that little injustice starts bothering you again. It's a toxic cycle.

And it hurts even more when Sunday tries to find normalcy in your relationship; he's trying so hard to be your lover, to hold you gently and bathe you with care, to dry you off and still love you after seeing you bare. He wants to come home and see you smile, be happy, elated that he's there, just as he feels when he sees you. But that's not what happens. His delusions and flimsy expectations are shattered the moment he steps into the dimly lit room, your form refusing to even look at him. The silence is strangely stronger than his hopes.

Anyways, that's all i can think of at the moment. I love angst yandere sunday time.

[daenysx]

hello can i ask for another aemond hurt comfort fic (if ure still writing for him, if not thank u anyway <3) make it hurt pls thank you 😞

p.s: i absolutely sobbed reading that drabble of him getting snappy at reader bcs they wanted to go out while it's sunny + also why i went back on ur blog and coincidentally saw ur requests open lol

i don't think i'll ever stop writing for aemond, i love him too much ♡ thank you for your request, lovely, i hope you like this!

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort

aemond isn't used to have someone taking care of him, not when he's like this.

his mother was doing the best she can when he was younger; holding his hand when he had an appointment with his doctor, sleeping next to him and rubbing his back when he couldn't get any rest, kissing his forehead and telling him how brave he's been. as he grew older he stopped asking for help, she had to have her own life. he did anything he can to convince her that he's fully capable of taking care of himself now. "thank you, mom, i'm fine."

alicent put her children before her every time, sacrificing her youth just to make sure they are well. aemond felt guilty when he realized how little his mother cares about her own life, only to take care of her half blind son. it pains him, still, but he's a grown man now. he'll be okay when she's out of town with her newly wedded husband.

he lies in bed for hours, waits for the pain in his eye disappear. the room is dark, it's silent in a disturbing way. aemond curses under his breath when a sudden pain flashes in his head, he might prefer dying over this.

no, he can't cry. it'll only make the pain worse. does he deserve to live his young days like that? laying in bed like a sick man, waiting for help but being too prideful to ask for it, spending hours only to be able to breathe without suffering. he's mad these days, always angry and tense. vengeful for something that happened years ago, tearing up for his wound that will never be okay.

the door creaks open slowly. you close it back to let the darkness stay still. quiet steps, almost hesitant as if he'll tell you to leave. you put on a brave face as you approach him with a cool glass of water in your hand.

"aemond?" you whisper. you can't see his face clearly, he doesn't react as you put the glass on his nightstand.

"i'm okay." he says. dishonesty drips down his voice.

"can i help you?" you whisper again. it's the first time in your new relationship that he's been so bad. you don't know what to do.

"i'm used to it." he replies. "you can leave if you have somewhere else to be, i don't think i can leave the bed for the rest of the day."

your heart breaks. does he think you'll leave him like this? he might prefer suffering silently but you won't let him. he seems like he doesn't even get the point of having a relationship. he treats you like you aren't his girlfriend, like you are just another person in the room. it makes you wanna curl up in bed and cry, you know you don't deserve this.

he's still in pain so you can't be mad at him. it'll only make things worse. "i can leave- if you want to be alone. i'd rather stay with you, though."

you can't see his face but you can feel he tries to decide. you like aemond too much and you think he likes you too. you know he does. it definitely has to do something with his past. you try to take a silent breath, completely still to not disturb him.

aemond doesn't even know what to say, he'd kill to have someone by his side. to have you. he selfishly wants to keep you even when he feels like he shouldn't. you deserve someone better. you deserve a man who doesn't have to stay in complete darkness because of his past. you are shining everywhere you go but aemond is dark, there's no spark in him. he likes you too much to let you go, his inner turmoil does him nothing good.

"stay with me." he says finally. "please."

"can i sit?"

"mm-hmm."

you sit on bed carefully. you treat him like he's someone delicate, like he deserves something good. aemond isn't sure how to deal with your kindness, he still hasn't found a way. he likes it too much, though. he likes everything about you.

you hold his hand gently. his fingers are cold, you rub his knuckles with a soft thumb. he lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding when you press on a tight spot, right where his thumb meets his pointer finger. it feels nice. you keep rubbing his hand until you hear a protest.

"s nice." he says quietly.

"my mom used to do this when i got headaches. i know yours is different but-"

"s really nice." he says again. "thank you."

you take his other hand, treating with same kindness. he holds a lot of tension in his body, he doesn't even know how much. a massage to his hands is a small thing to help him relax but you want him to know you're with him.

"do you want to put your head on my leg?" you ask. "maybe i can rub your temples a bit."

you are not afraid of his rejection, willing to do anything that might help him. to your surprise, he sits on bed, waits for you to get comfier. you place yourself properly, he puts his head on your leg just the way you want and you start massaging his head.

"i like your hair so much." you whisper. "so soft."

"i like yours better." he replies, whispering. "but thank you."

you press your fingers to his temples slowly, he lets out another shaky breath. "i'm not gonna hurt you, i promise. you'll feel better in a minute."

he nods slightly, feeling of your warm fingers on his skin makes him somewhat excited. he is distracted with your quiet words and kind fingers, for a moment he forgets about the dull pain in his head.

you keep rubbing his temples until your fingers go numb. you stroke his hair then, silky platinum blonde strands flow in your hands. you play with his hair, braid a little piece of it. he truly is distracted at this point, too grateful to say something.

"i think i'll fall asleep." he can say.

"that's okay." you tell him. "i'll be here when you wake up."

somehow he knows you'll be here with him until the end. he can feel how his emotions for you fill his heart and his mind until they are both full of you, only you and no one else. it's a nice feeling, having someone by his side. being someone's choice, not responsibility.

[smehur]

More Harry/Draco fics I loved

I'm reading so much fic, I don't have time to read the actual books! And my Read Later list still keeps growing! Thank you, Drarry Tumblr, for feeding me so well. Here's a little something in return.

In the order of reading them:

Bitter Honey, Green Night by Faith Wood

An inn, an Auror, a criminal, a mystery.

I loved this story for the seduction, and the tension, and one of the most exquisite, most intimate sex scenes I've ever encountered. Even weeks after reading, it still lingers in my mind and I can envision it with almost painful clarity. I admit I wished the story went on: although the main conflict got a satisfying resolution, there could've been a bit more closure (read: another sex scene). Not a critique, mind you--if I were in the author's shoes, I'd have probably stopped there too--just the longings of an insatiable fan.

i was having visions of sugared pastry (cooked up in clarified butter) by infectiousdisease, solifuge

Draco Malfoy doesn't remember a time before his eating disorder. Not that he'd call it that.

This one gutted me in all the right ways. Draco with an eating disorder passed on from Narcissa clicked for me with frightening ease. It just rings so true? The unflinching depictions of his mental and physical illness, of his relations with his dysfunctional family and the bullying he inflicted on others made my stomach clench--and I loved it. I also loved how the horrors of the war were communicated as subtext, reflected in Draco's war against himself, rather than explicitly, to great effect. I loved the soft things too: Draco's relationship with Harry developing between the lines, the cathartic trial scene and the well-earned beginnings of recovery, all written in brisk, efficient prose that cuts to the marrow. An absolute gem of a fic.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Easily one of the loveliest stories I've read in this fandom so far. Draco is such an unmitigated darling; I rooted for him deeply, while fearing at the same time that he'd fuck things up irreparably, lol. And Harry, dear, pure, clueless Harry, with his long-time crush that's teased but never fully elaborated. There's also a little owl, heart-warming moments between Draco and his parents, his unrelenting focus on clothes and a scene where he goes jogging in a Muggle park wearing robes (and little else).

All that said, the end left me feeling weirdly cheated. (Spoiler alert!) Harry says it himself: it's not fair that Draco had their first kiss without him. Was Draco's exploration of the timeloop selfish, or just inconsiderate, or entirely justified? What would Harry have done in his shoes? Not gonna lie: I kept mulling over this for days.

Mortal Frame by tackytiger

Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining. The story of three pubs, one Horcrux, four overpriced sandwiches, and two damaged men just trying to make sure that Bellatrix Lestrange stays dead.

Oh, this was such a treat. Mysterious, atmospheric and reticent in just the perfect measure, it had me wide-eyed and heart-aching and mouth-watering. Most of my reading is about Harry and Draco getting together, and I'm always surprised when stories where they're already a couple (of one sort or another) manage to evoke in me such deep longing. If you haven't already, go read this now.

À Bon Chat by oknowkiss

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief. His biggest score yet is fast approaching and he's got everything planned down to the minute. Everything, that is, until the unexpected appearance of a newly-divorced Harry Potter. Now that Potter's in the picture, Draco's no longer certain if he's the pursuer or the prize.

Omg, this fic. I don't even know where to start with the praise. It is so well-written, and so well-researched, and it offers such insight, not only into our beloved characters, but into human nature in general. I still can't decide whether I entirely bought the ending or not. But that didn't lessen my enjoyment of the story; it even contributed to it by making me engage with it on a deeper level. I remain astonished and humbled.

Tagging the authors I managed to find on here: @faith2wood, @oknowkiss, @tackytigerfic. Thank you for enriching my life! 💚

[elliespuns]

hello!! first of all, i don't intend to say this as a way to create a fuss or anything like that, i just see your blog as a space where we can debate a lot of tlou related topics and i want to know your opinion about it :-) anyways, while i did enjoy the hbo series, i also think it was very flawed in translating both joel and ellie's personalities - but i want to focus on joel's atm.

i don't think joel is "insensitive" on the game, but i do believe the fact that he tried so hard to hide his feelings and barely ever showed his soft side is a SUPER important characteristic of his.

i don't mind the way pedro played joel but at the same time i just cannot see both of them as the same man. and i don't talk only about the scenes where joel was visibly anxious or cried, but also the torture scene. i think it is one of the most iconic scenes on the game (also, I'm the one who asked you to take pics of it a couple weeks ago LOL) specially cause it shows us joel doesn't have to go out of his way to be a menace. the fact that pedro had to scream and etc to make them fear him bothers me sooo much.

i think pedro was more than capable to play a joel that is both too much of a father figure for his own good AND a tough son of a b*tch that can and will kill people with his bare hands to protect whatever is important to him.

from my point of view, crying during the "i saved her" scene is really out of character for game joel. when the guy just confesses he killed a bunch of people, "doomed" the whole world just to keep his little girl safe and then lied straight to her face, but his expression shows no hint of sadness whatsoever, that, for me, is the peak of his character.

"if somehow the lord gave me a second chance at that moment, i'd do it all over again". of course he's hurt that ellie doesn't trust him anymore, and of course he wasn't exactly happy to kill those fireflies, but he did what he thought was right and he'd rather have ellie hate him for another thousand years to come than know he just left such a sweet girl to die in the hands of a crumbling group, in the name of a cause he never really cared about. he knows his actions will have consequences but he doesn't cry cause he is willing to die for it (and he really did).

sorry for rambling but i really want to read other people's opinion about it!!

First of all, I love how perfectly you've just described game Joel. This is exactly how I feel about our man, and even if I tried, I could never put it into words like this. Hands down, bro, this is so well said.

Both Ellie and Joel were portrayed differently in the show (it's not the worst thing; I know that people who don't follow the game fell in love with these versions of them, and for them it's as magical as it was for us when playing), but I guess, for the game lovers, it's harder to see past this fact simply because getting to love a character and having to learn everything there is about them, growing up with them only to find out the creators (people who gave them this exceptional and amazing character) didn't care enough to stick to what they came up with is kind of a bummer. I mean, you can choose to ignore it on the screen, but yet it's something so 'palpable' you have to watch with a little *sigh* in your mind.

"It shows us joel doesn't have to go out of his way to be a menace. the fact that pedro had to scream and etc to make them fear him bothers me sooo much."

I agree. Game Joel has this death stare that makes people fear from miles away while show Joel doesn't. I think Pedro could pull it out without a blink of an eye—if only they'd given him this Joel to play.

People say that making show Joel more "sensitive" was to make him more realistic because in the game, the characters are portrayed as having to deal with the impossible (like killing 10 clickers and a bloater without any damage, etc.), while in the show, he's a real man, so real attributes and emotions are needed. I get that; that makes perfect sense. But I still also agree with folks who say that keeping Joel's "detached" and "thin-skinned" characteristics wouldn't hurt anyone because what's unrealistic about that?

Game Joel and show Joel are completely different characters in my head. I love them both. I can switch them in my head and tune into both Joels, but I still prefer the game when it comes to the story and the character Joel is.

It's funny because when I watch show Joel, I can't help but see a puppy version of game Joel, tbh. Pedro is literally able to play anything, so his version of "sensitive" Joel serves me just right when I tune into the show. But knowing Pedro would kill the "callous" and "unaffected" version of Joel, and it bugs me so much we'll never get to see it.

Btw, I'm working on your request, more photos of Joel torturing David's men are coming!

[olasketches]

So the fight is really over...my glorious four armed giant spider is gone. Yuji really was foreshadowing about the slime thingy heh. I'm so happy to see the trio back and together again like you tell me this a year ago this is what was going to happen and I'd just give you a maniacal laugh. But I still don't know how to feel about Sukuna's end like we all knew he was going to die and in perspective it does feels satisfying. Sukuna being ripped apart from Megumi and his little convo with Megumi...yeah dude really is walking contradiction. Always saying he's living to die but actually doesn't want to die. Indirectly answering Kashimo's question. But his end just seems...eh? Like at first Kenjaku's end seemed like that to me too but it made sense later on. Kenjaku came in silence and went like that but Sukuna he was never like Kenjaku or Mahito so his ending being parallel to Mahito didn't really sit right with me and i actually wanted him to get anything but a glorious death but this feels...stale somehow? Idk he's still the same untrue to himself. Wish we could get more of his thought process. Or maybe this was it to show Sukuna's denial became his defeat. I just hoped for more emotionally charged defeat of his..but it's GeGe story I'm happy they're telling it like they want to.

Also Uraume and Hakari was funny too they fought all this time bonded, praised and just dipped. Makes me think if they had a binding vow with Sukuna too? Sorry for all the yap and incoherence. I'm just feeling underwhelmed? Overwhelmed? what are your thoughts regarding this chapter and Suku's end?

"my glorious four armed giant spider is gone" took me out sksksksk he's really just a bug when you think about it lol.

anyway thank you for sending me your ask. I really liked reading your thoughts and how you called suku out for being contradictory and a hypocrite till the very end AS YOU SHOULD THANK YOU!! honestly, this fact alone makes the whole chapter all the more special to me but on this in a sec cause I'm guessing the reaction to his demise is quite... well I guess ppl are not really happy with it..??? I mean some of them probably are and by "some" I mean *cough, cough* the haters *cough, cough* but well... I wouldn't know cause ONE I'm actually (and maybe surprisingly) super pleased and satisfied with this chapter and TWO, I didn't go and check others reaction to it lol I'm planning to keep it that way for now. I'm really not a big fan of twt fandoms spaces in fact I can't stand them... too much negativity and toxicity *shudders*.

so my thoughts... to put it simply, I loved it more than loved it actually. and yeah yeah sure he turned into a slimy lil bug which probably put many people off but hey let's not forget sukuna was basically like a parasite possessing megumi's body, so it makes sense that once peeled off only curse-like residues would remain... but I can understand why some stans didn't like that part. I personally found funny but that's just me lol.

and yeah the final seemed quite underwhelming, but I think that's what makes it so good. I didn't want sukuna's death to be the most interesting thing about his character and well it's not. rather than having a big an "after life" moment like jogo, gojo or kashimo, he spent his last moments with the only person who cared about the human sukuna so stubbornly tried to burry inside him.

I actually found his conclusion to be quite beautiful and moving, cause instead of being looked down upon by yuuji as many stans thought would be the case, he was offered something else entirely. something no one ever gave him - kindness and love. yes, I'm using the "L" word here cause in the end that's what it was... yuuji showed sukuna the true value of love. he accepted him and ask him to live with him despite everything sukuna has put him through. despite all the chaos chaos and distraction he caused him, yuuji still accepted him. he not only showed sukuna genuine empathy and compassion but also recognised that sukuna is really... just like him. when yuuji looked into (blop) sukuna's eyes (my beloved) he could only see himself. he realised that under different circumstances, he could've turned out like sukuna if he didn't have his grandpa by his side. he realised that if he could have turned out like sukuna then sukuna could've turned out like him too, that if only sukuna had someone who loved him and guided him and accepted him, he most likely wouldn't have turned into a curse, which is another thing I loved and cry about in this chapter.

sukuna only saw himself as a curse :")). he acknowledged yuuji and finally called him by his full name but in the end he still only think of himself as a "curse" not as human, not even as a god or king of curses but only a curse :")).

the reason why I loved just how "underwhelming" his death felt like is because instead of framing and defining his entire character by his his final moments, gege made the rest of his moments in the manga stand out EVEN MORE. instead of having a moment of reflection and introspection in this chapter as well as in chapter 265 or 266... and oh well entire shinjiku showdown basically, his character started to trip and reveal just how contradictory he is. sukuna claimed he was satisfied with his life and doesn't care about dying, he also claimed he doesn't care about ideals and even despised them, he also claimed he doesn't feel anything and he doesn't need others to satisfy him and then you have all those small moments when you realise "wait, that is not right" and you look back and rethink everything. sukuna does feel and he NEEDS others to satisfy him, cause that's what his entire "philosophy" hinges on.

"Every human has a unique and fleeting taste... which makes devouring them a perfect way to pass time until death"

he DID get excited when maki became the first person to ever give him a role

This is a first. You're the only one who ever forced a role upon me. (while grinning like a maniac)

and then megumi lied his bs out in the open and revealed that sukuna was afraid of death too, despite believing otherwise

Even something like you fears death...

this only goes to show that sukuna convinced himself (and many other readers) that he is not human, that he is above that, that he doesn't care about the things they do... but if even "something like him" feared death, got excited to be given a role, praised and encouraged others for their talents and skills and connected to them in one way another only to "pass time" or knew about flowers and caught a crayfish then that means... he must be human too.

and even if sukuna and the rest of the world couldn't and didn't want to accept that, there was one person who did. someone sukuna hurt the most, someone who saw him at his worst and at his weakest. someone who in the end still decided to show him love, because he belived sukuna is still worthy of love, despite everyone and maybe even sukuna himself, believing that he no longer is worthy of such thing.

"Even if no one else will accept you... I'll live with you" "Itadori Yuuji... don't underestimate me. I'm... a "curse"!

[beckinferno]

There's no place I'd rather be than in your arms

Summary: Charles and Max crashes during a race, Charles ends up injured but despite that, he only seems to care about the other's well-being rather than his own.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Warnings: Swearing, blood, injuries (nothing graphic), hospital

Word count: 2.6k

Author's note: I'm very new to F1 and writing for this fandom, so please be kind. Also I've never written car scenes at all before lol. Also, I didn't intend for this to be romantic, but read it however you want.

Even away from the circuit, people are watching the race on TV. Some want Verstappen to win again, some have their bets put on Hamilton.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

30 minutes in, and the race is only getting more interesting. The cars zoom around the track and the audience is cheering on enthusiastically. The commentators are watching and pointing out every movement of every driver closely. 

Charles has moved from fourth to second by overtaking Lando Norris and Lewis Hamilton. It's a quite cloudy day, he hopes that there won't be any rain. Rain only ever complicates things when it comes to Formula one.  It's the classic British weather, gray and all. It's quite the opposite from last week’s race and location.

The Ferrari driver is trying his hardest to reach the leading Red Bull car by every passing second, pushing himself and the car to its limits. 

When racing, it's like Max and Charles forget about any friendliness that exists outside of the track. Any of the nice moments together just vanishes. Now, their focus is solely on winning the Grand Prix and scoring points.

“Push, push.” 

A voice comes through the intercom, Charles hears the man's voice loud and clear.

“I'm trying.” 

Charles' accent is obvious, even through the slight static noises. His pressure on the gas pedal increases, and he accelerates. But everytime he seems to get a second closer to Verstappen, his rival speeds faster. 

The man at the pit wall says something else, but the words go in through one ear and out the other. Charles is too concentrated to listen. He needs to pass Max, now.

As they get closer to a turn, he can picture the commentators yelling into their microphones about how Verstappen and Charles will be fighting for position any second now.

Any second.

“ …. Overtake, now!”

Charles turns the steering wheel, so does Max. It's a smooth turn, and the Red Bull driver can feel his own heartbeat quickening upon realizing how close the Ferrari is getting. Speaking of, Hamilton is catching up to them as well.

“Don’t let Charles pass you.”

Max quickly replies with a simple and straight to the point: “Understood.”

Everything around them feels like a blur when they speed down the straight, Charles getting closer and closer while Hamilton struggles to reach the two cars at the very front.

They're fighting for position, one front wheel almost touching the other’s. Charles adjusts his grip on the steering wheel for a brief moment, his hands holding it even firmer now. 

Another sharp turn incoming.

The audience and every team member is holding their breaths at this point, just watching the scene unfold. The Ferrari team are intensely watching; praying Charles will be successful in his overtake. Meanwhile, Christian Horner and his team seem disappointed. They can't let anyone else but Max win this.

Charles swerves to the outside, keeping Max near the apex. The adrenaline is rushing through their veins, but everything comes to a sudden stop when The Red Bull car’s front wing touches the rim of the Ferrari.

Even the slightest touch can make these cars spin out of control.

There's not much Charles can do at that moment, the spinning is way too fast for him to regain control over the vehicle. As his breath catches in his throat, he accepts the fate he cannot escape.

The audience cheering comes to a sudden stop, and they collectively gasp when there's a loud crash being heard across the circuit.

Charles Leclerc has hit the barrier within seconds. 

One of the wheels has flown off and the right side is completely wrecked. There's pieces of metal all over the ground surrounding the car. It's nothing a simple pit stop will fix.

The scent of burnt rubber fills the air, and the team members are yelling on the intercoms. No response from their driver.

“Charles? Are you okay?”

There's silence again, before Charles can be heard breathing. Fast but heavy breaths. Then, he groans; slowly coming back to his senses after those eventful five seconds. Everything happened so quickly he almost couldn't register it all properly.

“Are you okay?”

It's his team principal speaking this time, sounding very worried.

Charles blinks, opening his eyes and giving it another try to properly catch his breath. His vision is blurry, and there's a pounding pain in his body.

“Charles, say something if you can hear me.”

The commentators, audience and everyone alike is in disbelief of what's just happened. Everything is still, every sound reaching Charles’ ear comes off as muffled and distant. A hiss of paint escapes even when he tries to shift his sitting position a little.

Is he imagining things or is there blood running down his back? Maybe he doesn't want to know the answer to his own question this time.

Finally, the Ferrari driver speaks, and when he does, his tone is unreadable. 

“What happened?” He sounds confused, disoriented if you will. He knows well he'd crashed, but maybe he's seeking reassurance before the whole reality of the situation settles in.

“A collision with Verstappen. I’m asking you again- are you feeling alright? … Are you injured?”

No immediate response besides from an audible ‘fuck’ coming from Charles. With a sluggish motion, he reaches his arm up to move the visor up.

“... Max? Is he- is he okay?” His own worries are making themselves clear in his voice, as if he's desperate for an answer.

The team principal sighs. “You’re not supposed to worry about him right now, Charles. The Marshalls and the medical crew are on their way over. Stay still and calm.”

The Ferrari driver lets out a strained breath, finding himself closing his eyes again at the ever growing pain. Pulsing through his muscles and bones, down his spine and his whole back.

“Is Max okay?” Charles asks again, maybe the conversation is just a distraction from the situation. Or, he really does care about Max Verstappen that much.

A moment of silence before another man at the pit wall speakers through the radio. “We’ve been told he's okay. A little shaken up, but no injuries.”

The Monegasquan doesn't get the chance to speak again, before a crew member does.

“Can you feel your legs? Your arms? Do you feel any pain?”

“.... Are you sure he's fine? He didn't get hurt?” 

He really is desperate, he needs to know how his on-track rival is doing. He'd hate himself if they both got hurt because of all this.

“This isn't about Max. But, yes, we're sure. Please tell me if you're feeling any pain.”

It's clear from the start Charles isn't in the correct headspace to cooperate with the other members of the team. Even though he refuses to admit his own situation, the pain is seeping into his tone.

The team principal is just about to break the brief silence before Charles speaks again. All while the medical crew is getting closer.  “Tell Max I’m not angry. I don't care that he crashed into me.”

“But- you're probably injured, Charles. For fuck’s sake-”

“Tell him that, it's all I want.”

“Fine, I will. Now-”

“How’s Carlos?”

“Carlos is okay too, he'll see you at the hospital once everything is over. Now, please, take a deep breath. I know you feel stressed and hurt.”

Charles gives in and he takes a deep breath, he can hear the medical team and the car in a distance now. “I want to see him, right now.”

“Who? Carlos?”

“Max.”

“That won't happen. Tell me where it hurts the most, Charles.”

It's a quick paced conversation, leaving little to no air between every exchanged sentence between the driver and the team.

“At the hospital, tell him… to come to my room.” It's getting more difficult to make the words come out with his usual ease, the pain eating away at him is getting in the way. 

“With Christian too? Or just Verstappen?”

“Fuck no- Horner doesn't give a shit that I’m hurt.” Another quiet groan slips past his lips, though this time it might be his annoyance directed at Red Bull's team principal rather than anything else. “He just wants Max to win.”

“Stop talking about him for one second. Keep calm, that's all I’m asking you to do.” 

“- Christian will find his way to blame the crash on us, even if I’m fucking bleeding.”

It all feels like a haze when the medical crew arrives by the crashed Ferrari, helping Charles out of the car as the driver struggles to stand and properly support himself. As he's being led into the ambulance, the overwhelming pain and anxiety might as well knock him out.

The helmet’s been removed along with the rest of the gear at this point; gloves, earbuds, balaclava. The medical crew is gently examining him, checking the blood and bruises at the side of his back and if he's injured anywhere else.

It was a hard crash, and it definitely left its marks on Charles. Before he knows it, he's been taken from the circuit to the nearby hospital. He’d passed out in the back of the ambulance, when he wakes up again the pain has lessened. It feels dull. He must’ve been given medications.

It's not the worst crash in the history of Formula One, but it will still be remembered.

The fluorescent lights are bright when Charles finally opens his eyes, becoming aware of his surroundings and the hospital room he finds himself in. White walls and gray boring floor. Plain looking chairs and a shelf which lacks any decorations. There’s only two books in there and a plant made out of plastic.

The room is empty, but there are distant voices coming down the hall behind the closed door. He prays that the press isn’t here, it's probably the last thing he wants right now. 

He wants it to be just him and Max.

Just Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen.

The door opens, and a nurse comes in. Dressed in the usual hospital attire. The conversation is short lived, and he's barely paying attention. 

He's injured, he was bleeding- blah, blah, blah.  Where is his promised visitor?

“- Just let me know if you need anything, there's water on the side table if you need it. You do have two visitors, but after that I'd suggest getting some more rest.”

Charles gives a brief nod in response and the nurse soon disappears through the same door. A few beats of silence before steps can be heard approaching the room again. It's Carlos… and Max.

The two seem to whisper to themselves, as if to decide who would go into the room first. Carlos ends up staying out in the hallway, and Max steps inside. Closing the door shut behind him, before slowly approaching the bed.

“I heard you were really worried for me.” Max speaks up without any proper greeting, his tone is gentle and a little quiet. Far from the blunt type he'd usually be during race weekends. The Dutch man brings a chair over and sits down, Charles watches in silence.

Charles shifts, the movement itself doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but he’d be lying if he said his current situation wasn't uncomfortable, the way he’s still somewhat lethargic and the way his change of clothes feel against his skin. 

He doesn’t want to be here, but at least Max is here… with him.

“I was- I am worried about you.” he replies, his voice coming out weak but the genuine affection doesn’t go unnoticed to the other. Max can’t help but smile; a mixture of sadness, worry and relief on his face. 

Sad to see the fellow driver injured, but relieved to know he’s okay.

Max leans back in the chair and tilts his head slightly to the left. He lets out a quiet breath before saying: “But you’re the one in pain here, not me.”

“You’re right, but… “ Charles pauses, it’s unclear if he’s trailing off intentionally or not. “It doesn’t make me any less worried about you.”

A beat of silence, Max seems to think about what to say. Contemplating his choice of words as he fiddles with his hands. “... I worried about you too, a lot. Carlos too, of course.” He almost looks like he’s about to say something else, but he keeps his mouth shut.

The Red Bull driver doesn’t ask the words aloud, but the look in his eyes as their gazes meet says it all. His blue eyes glimmer in the bright light, as if to ask ‘how are you doing?’

“I’ve been better,” Charles says, trying to play it off like no big deal. “I think I’ll be out of here soon.”

“What about next week? WIll you be able to race?” 

The questions are quite surface-levelled, but Charles can feel there’s an underlying tone to them, other worries that Max is not saying outright. 

“We’ll see about that, but if I can’t do it, you’ll have to fight Carlos for a win instead.”

“It wouldn’t be as fun to race against Carlos” Max comments, looking down at his hands for a second. “It wouldn’t be the same thing, but- don’t tell him that.”

Charles raises an eyebrow, finding what he’d said a little amusing. 

“I won’t let him know that you obviously think I’m the better Ferrari driver.” He can’t stop himself from chuckling. His laugh is more often than not contagious and Max laughs quietly too. The worries eyes and soft smile remain on Max’s expression, it don’t seem like it will disappear anytime soon

The air is light, and so is the tone of their conversation. As if it’s an unspoken rule of theirs to not get overly personal in moments like this, especially when they know someone’s standing right outside the door.

“Can I ask what Christian is saying about all of this?” Charles suddenly asks, his own facial features softening. He never takes his eyes off of Max. There are so many things left unsaid in the silence filling between them, but they never delve further into it.

“He’s pretty upset, … I don’t think you’d want more details.”

Charles slowly nods, and he doesn’t ask any more questions regarding Red Bull’s team principal.

Max speaks again: “I think Carlos wants to see you now, I’d imagine he’s still a little shaken up too.” He rises from his seat before the other man can even let the words register in his hazy mind. Max is about to turn and leave before he faces Charles again.

“I’m really glad to know you’re okay-” he cuts himself off as if to think about what to say next. “I just want you to know that.”

Charles smiles; brighter than before and shifts another time. Without a word, he reaches his arms out in a cautious manner.

“Just hug me already.” he says, but he only got half way through the sentence before he feels Max’s arms around him. 

A careful grip - not wanting to hurt the other - but still one full of affection and care. Neither of them want to let go, and if one of them weren’t injured, Max would’ve pat his back too.

Nothing more is said after that, Max slowly pulls away from the hug. Knowing he should go so Carlos can get some alone time with Charles as well. The man lying on the bed watches as Max turns around and walks out. 

From rivals on the track to close friends in a hospital room, without the constant eyes on them and the press watching their every move.

[factual-fantasy]

25 asks again :0000 🎄🎄🎄

Never??? What part of my content ever suggested that I would ever draw anything like that??

The snowy forests they tend to camp in are actually the forests attached to Snowdin :0 They tend to end up there a lot <XD No ones found them out there before so they've deemed Snowdin forests a safe camping spot..

I'm not sure what you mean by a cliffhanger. My Octonauts stuff wasn't following a timeline or anything. I was just goofing around and drawing what ever I felt like.

If you're talking about the crab comic? I abandoned that comic on a cliff hanger because I didn't like how I wrote the comic and I didn't feel like re-writing it. :/ The Captain ends up totally fine in the end so its ok-

(Also thank you! :} )

Thank you! Merry Christmas to you too!! :DDDD 💖🎄💖

It kind'a depends.. what really exhausts him is making multiple mirrors back to back that all lead to different places. And how long he holds them open is also a factor..

Maybe a good guestimate is.. about 5? Maybe if he makes 5 mirrors in less than 3 days that would be enough to completely wipe him out. Maybe even knock him unconscious..

But its okay, the group usually is good at avoiding that scenario. Usually they jump into an AU and stay there for a few days before jumping into a new one. That way Jevil has time to rest and recover.

@couchwow

:DD Thank you! We wish the same to you as well! :}} 🎄💖🔥

Oh yeah, very protective I imagine XD He wouldn't put him down or let him out of his sight for even a second.

@ocinstituterep

I'd like to think he kept it and hung it on his bedroom wall yeah. But Knowing Peso and how much of a sweetheart he is.. I can totally see him giving it to Pinto for a keepsake/to show it off to his friends :}

Only when they're using their magic in someway yeah. :0 The more magic they're using/the more they're straining, the more visible their pupil becomes.

And it can extend to their emotions. The more mentally unstable/emotional/afraid the cat is.. the more cracked and deformed their pupil can become..

@bunny-coffee

Shellington got some angry cousins frfr XDDD

(Post in question)

Ehh.. not exactly.. that situation with that Papyrus ended up getting really dangerous, and really scary, really fast.. They end up fleeing that AU and leave that Papyrus behind.. :(

@fallingbones (post in question)

WWAAAHHAGDG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! THAT MEANS A LOT TO MEEEEE!!😭😭💖💖💖😭

That's because I was gonna draw a comic revealing her new name but I never got around to it.. 💔

(Still keeping it a secret in case I change my mind lol-)

ACTUALLY! I had an idea that if Jevil rushes a mirror, he just has less control over it and will have no idea where the mirror will end up. And one time Jevil hastily made a mirror and when they jumped though.. they all got dumped into a river 😬 which is very bad for nearly everyone involved-

Seam's chains got caught on a branch and he got stuck while everyone else got swept down stream. He was able to just barely get his chains free and drag himself onto land.

Grillby doesn't die or anything, but boy is it incredibly painful. Thankfully he's able to scramble out of the water rather quickly and collapse on land..

Spamton has a phobia of water so by the time him and Jevil are able to get out he's breaking down from a panic attack :'(

Goner kid cant really swim but she was very lucky and was able to grab onto some branches and scramble out of the water.

Asgore wasn't really in any danger but he did struggle to get out of the water. He was eventually able to latch onto a branch as well and pull himself out.

The group recollected and probably camped out in the nearby forest for a few days to mentally and physically recover from that ordeal-

Upon Googling it, it appears to be a fangame about the yellow soul..? I also saw "Undertale yellow controversy" uh oh- I'm not sure what I think about it <XD

Although I've never played/seen a playthrough of Resident Evil.. this sounds right up my ally! XD

Also thank you! Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you as well! :DD 🎄🎉

XD Yes! I also have these two but they're not as cool/polished/original to me as the other 7 are-

@octonauts16

Ultimately my thoughts are, "It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be/could have been. 6 outa 10, would watch again and recommend to my friends 🎤🐻👍"

And as for a sequel? I'm not sure if they'll make one.. if they do, I kind'a hope it'll be about the second game and they'll up the horror a bit more this time 👀

@cupofmaplesyrup

waaa thank you!! :DD

I'm not sure.. I imagined Bibi likes the stuff I make, simply because I made it. I'm not sure what the rest of them would think.. :0

Although the 20k comic was a biggie. They all thought that project was cool XD

@beryl-shade

I did! It seemed fitting for him. Also it helps visually distinguish him from Glamrock Freddy :00

XD She has that effect on people

When the when When?

@love-is-the-multiverse

That's just how I draw skeletons that don't look really creepy :( 💔

[jazz-miester]

Yandere Bayverse!Optimus x Decepticon Mech reader smut?

Also, I wanted to say that I LOVE your works! Especially that one Optimus x reader one.. it has me in a chokehold. Anyways, feel free to ignore!

Hung Over You

Pairing: Bayverse Optimus x reader

Reader type: Decepticon Mech

Song: Lady Lie- Rainbow kitten surprise

Warnings: I'm gonna put Dubious Consent here as a warning. I. Honestly i'd rather be safe than sorry yall. And please please for all that is holy. Get absolute consent from your partners before doing anything. If the yes isn't given whole heartedly and said with everything the person has to offer. Don't do it. It's not worth it.

An: Aww you're too sweet! I'm glad that you like my stuff so much! Hope that this is what you wanted lol. I'm not to familiar with the yandere thing so im lowkey just winging it. Also putting this under a read more because this came out to be 4186 words long lol.

Tags: @rawmeknockout hope you don't mind me tagging you in this lol.

You have caught his optic. Which honestly is the most dangerous thing you have ever had happen to you. There has been. Rumours that have spread from out of the Autobot ranks. But they had been rumours. Right?

Primes don't do that. They. They don't.

Not once did you truly worry though. When would you ever see him? You were one of the few medics that the Decepticon army had left. Most others had defected to the Autobots.

Really. It made sense. They left so they could work in a slightly safer environment where you were less likely to be offed by your patients. Still, even with how long you've been with the Decepticons you find yourself wondering why. Why have you stayed for so long despite the Decepticons going so far out of the ballpark of what they once stood for.

It was becoming less and less often you would find that reason to stay. And at this point you were only finding it in the older mechs. Those who were forced into their casts by the functionists all because they transformed into something other than a silly little microscope.

They were the ones that still fight so they would no longer have to risk their lives on a job that they higher nobles where to afraid to do. They stuck with the original Decepticon ideals so that their future younglings wouldn't have to live the harsh and horrid lives they did.

They are the reason you kept going. Kept doing what you did. They were he reason you still had a flicker of hope for the Decepticons. That Megatron was truly fighting for your peace. That he would lead Cybertronian kind into a new era. One of peace and prosperity in the way they never had before. A life where your frame didn't dictate how and who you would be.

You lost that little ember of hope on a Decepticon battlefield. Every attempt you made to help the others. To heal, to mend. All of it in vain when the bombs began to rain from above.

Again and again you went out dragging in bots and cons alike to some semblance of safety as the bombs screamed in the sky. You were forced to quit when an Autobot. And old and ancient mech stopped you and pulled you into the shelter. It was his rust colored paint that filled your vision as he gave you some sense of solace.

It was with him you grieved the loss of any hope you had left.

All of this. The wrought and ruin of his own troops, supplies, territory. All of it destroyed for a blind assault on the chance he could kill his enemy.

All of it because Megatron was to much of a coward to face Optimus Prime himself.

You did all you could. Tending to the injured. Helping even the Autobots. Or at least all that would allow you to.

It felt like a life cycle for the bombs to quit falling. Longer still for the metal of Cybertron to settle. And longer for the air to become ventable once again.

You did what you could to lead the injured up and out.

A lot of Decepticons turned their back on the cause after that. Most choosing the neutral path. Not willing to chance facing their brothers and sisters. Friends. Lovers.

Some, like you, pledged yourself to the Autobot cause.

It was on that battlefield that you saw him for the first time.

Optimus Prime.

There was a million and one warning bells going off in your helm the closer he came.

"Are you here to fight, or to stay?" His voice rumbled like distant thunder just before a storm of acid rain. This was the same question he had asked every con before you.

"Stay, I suppose." You spoke after a moment. You had long since torn away the Decepticon insignia. You could still feel the distant ache in your sparkchamber.

A botched job for what should have been the greatest moment in your lifecycle.

It meant nothing now.

"I have heard you helped my troops mech. Is this true?" Blue optics looked you up and down then stopped on your own. For the briefest moment you wondered if he could see you. Truly see you. As if the matrix gave him some supernatural ability to pick apart your very spark.

Cybertronians used to worship Primes.

"I did." You answered. "And I will continue to do so. If you allow. Optimus Prime." A grin split his lips when you were done speaking.

"If you are willing then yes.." He trailed off.

"Y/n sir." The Prime tilted his helm. Mouthed your name.

"Y/n." Something about the way he spoke it sent your spark pounding. Your takes turning.

Megatron sounded like that once.

Just before everything went to slag in a hand basket.

.

.

.

That wasn't the last time you saw the Autobot leader. And it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Y/n! Mech! Pay attention slaggit!" Ratchet's voice was right in your audio receptor. His servos moved with more efficiently than you have ever seen in any mech or femme. It was supernatural, almost, to watch.

The two of you were elbow deep in a mech. The damned frontliner decided to play hero.

You could have sworn you had seen Optimus. There in a window that the assistant has forgotten to close.

.

.

.

"He's damned good. For a con." Ratchet would both praise and poke at you at the same time. "I'm glad he's on our side though."

You were proud with where you were at the moment. You had built a reputation for yourself. Worked in a place that made your skills worth something. You worked with bots that wouldn't have your helm for just venting wrong near them.

You caught a snippets of Ratchets and Ironhides conversation from where you were organizing field kits. Restocking and filing inventory on this had fallen to you after a while.

Well. You were until Optimus came spilling in. Energon flowed freely onto the floor where it really shouldn't have been.

Two mechs carried him in. You were quick to clear a med berth off. Already you were in the process of cleaning when Ratchet began barking orders

Time to show Ironhide those skills Ratchet was bragging about.

.

.

.

Sometime later and what seemed like an obscene amount of energon, Optimus was deemed stable. Currently he was sleeping off the anesthetics.

"Will you keep an optic on him and tell me when he wakes kid?" You looked up from the data pad you were typing on when Ratchet spoke. "I have some reports I need to finish and I need to plan some care for when he wakes up." You waved a servo.

"I've got it Ratchet. Go do what you need to." With a heavy sigh he left. Muttering about Primes being stupid and self sacrificing for no good Primus damned reason.

You went back to restocking field kits. You needed something to do with your servos while you waited for him to wake up.

Which wasn't much longer after you finished. The Prime woke with a start. Bolting upright as he took in where he was. Some part of his processer still stuck out there on the feild.

It was only after he swing his legs over the side of the berth did you walk towards him.

"Prime. You need to stay laying down. If you get up now you could re open the welds me and Ratchet placed." Your voice was low. Soothing. The same voice you have used a thousand times over for Decepticon coming out of general anesthetics. At least this time you were greeted with a look rather that blaster fire.

Really. Megatron should have implemented some sort of psychiatric treatment for his troop.

Optimus said nothing as you walked up to him. Slowly you placed one servo on his shoulder. "I need to check on the welds before I go and get Ratchet. Are you ok with that or do you want me to get him to do it?" You always gave them the option. Some still didn't trust you. Former Decepticon and all.

"You may." The Prime leaned back slightly. His legs spreading further apart as he balanced himself. You said nothing other than giving him a nod before going to check the welds across his abdomen.

The welds looked ok. And they were still holding up despite the fact he decided to spring up off the berth. You took the opportunity to glance at the ones on his arms. Then checking the cabling at his neck that had become undone.

You froze for a moment when he leant forward. Slumping as if suddenly overcome by fatigue. Out of reflex you caught him by the shoulers. Bracing him as he fell forward. Optimus's helm fell on your shoulder. His servo brushing against your hip and thigh.

"Slaggit! Prime are you ok?" You pushed back on him. Righting the blue colored Prime. "Are you dizzy? Any pains that we were not aware of?" You looked over his face plates. Looking for the drain of nanites and fuzzy unfocused optics.

Nothing.

"I am fine. Just." He paused. "Apologies, Y/n. I did not mean to cause concern." There. Again. That same look he gave you on the battlefield sometime ago.

"Are you sure? It is no issue. I can go get Ratchet. He wanted me to get him after you woke anyways." A slight flicker on his face plates. A sort of, annoyance? Then.

"Get him if you must. Ratchet is my CMO for a reason." It wasn't until you pulled away did you realize Optimus's servo had been on your waist that entire time. Only did you know when you pulled away and his digits grazed along the dark grey plating.

.

.

.

You felt like you were going insane. Someone was leaving you gifts. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact it was inside your habsuit on your berth.

They were the things you liked. Sweetened energon candies. A very specific polish you thought you would never find again. There was even a praxian crystal rose at one point. Who would give that away to a former Con you would never know. After the fall of Praxus they had become scarce.

You saw Optimus a few times after he had been discharged from the med bay. He came a few times afterwards to keep the welds in check and to make sure the new cabling in his throat had took.

You had been the one to check on the welds after a while. And to make sure the Prime had proper movement in his left arm. The one that you were now currently holding and moving to ensure fluid movement in the shoulder joint.

There was that look again. Like he was staring into your very soul. You felt that if you bared your spark chamber you would feel less exposed.

"And this? Any pain, aches?" The Prime rumbled out a laugh. Not once had he looked away from you.

"No. Truly, it is fine. You've done a very good job." You could feel your faceplates warm. Not use to any type of praise.

"It was hardly all me. Ratchet did the bulk of it." Optimus humed. Pulling his arm away. His digits brushed against your chassis before they settled in his lap. He flexed his palms and you couldn't help but to look.

Only to sputter a cough before he looked up. Almost getting caught ogling the Primes thighs.

"Still. You have done good. I am grateful to have such a skilled mech on our side. Your skills are valued here, y/n." He spoke your name with an intensity.

The two of you locked optics for a moment. The Prime almost drawing you in. He servo rose and hovered next to yours. You swore he almost would have taken it in his if it weren't for Ratchet calling him to his office.

The look that covered his facelates looked almost murderous. You had stepped back when he did that. And the look had fallen almost as quickly as it had came. Filled with a different, almost fearful look at your reaction.

The Prime rose and left. Giving you one last look before going to meet Ratchet. When you glanced back down to the berth you felt you tanks turned.

There, in the center of the berth, was a singular Praxian rose. The one that twined the other currently beneath your berth.

.

.

.

You said nothing about it to anyone. Instead quickly taking it and placing it within your subspace before Ratchet or any of the other medics or assistants could notice.

When Optimus left he had caught your optic then glanced at the berth the rose had been on. When he noticed it was gone and how quickly you had looked away. He smiled.

That night you had went to your habsuit shaken. Placing the rose with the other things you had been given.

Was. Was Optimus the one doing this? It would make sense seeing as how he would be one of the few with the proper codes to get into your habsuit.

But why? Why you? And was it really you?

You didn't fall into recharge that night. And you were in a daze for the next day cycle. Ratchet having reprimanded you more than once for your forgetfulness.

You nearly dropped the glass vials holding nanites when you saw him in the window looking into the supply closet. Optimus had studied you briefly before leaving.

You didn't move for many klicks. Servos shaking as you tried to calm yourself.

The next few days went the same. Catching Optimus in the corner of your optics every time you turned. It made you jumpy. Skittish. You began to pull away from the bots you had made friends with. Even to Ratchet who seemed to be concerned. But he said nothing. Did nothing other than lay his servo on your shoulder and give you the most sympathetic look you had ever seen.

.

.

.

"Y/n. Prime needs you in his office." You glanced up dumbly to the femme that had called your name. You had been in the rec room watching some old holo vids Toptwist had put on. A chorus of oohs had filled the room. Most of the bots acting like you had just been called to the headmaster's office in the academy.

Instead you swallowed thickly and nodded your helm at the femme.

You're frame is shaking the entire walk down the hall. Your mind was racing.

Did you do something wrong? If so then what? As far as you knew you were doing everything Ratchet needed you to. You didn't cause any problems with the others. No matter how much you wanted to throttle some of them when they wouldn't stop fragging you over just because you used to be a Con.

Is that why? Did some mech of femme complain about you being a former Decepticon?

You didn't want to lose what you had here. To much. It. You had finally found a reason to keep fighting. The Autobots they held up the ideals that the Decepticons used to have.

You don't think you would be able to quit this. Not without some consequence on your mental health. You needed this.

.

You stopped before the door to Optimus Primes office. You didn't know if you should com him or knock on the door. In the end you chose the latter. Fisted servo hovering before the engraved metal door for a klick before you knocked.

Ice flooded your frame. Something. Something spoke to you about this being a bad idea. That you should turn. Run.

Instead you ignored that millennia forged instinct.

"Enter." Optimus's voice sounded from the other side of the door after you knocked. The door sliding open and closing behind you quickly when you stepped inside.

His office was quaint. Small. There were odds and ends decorating shelves. A few organic plants here and there that looked well taken care of. It was such a rare sight to see. The war on Cybertron and rendered all organic life null. Unable to grow in such an hostile enviroment.

There were data pads from floor to roof on one wall. Suddenly you remember that the great Prime was just once a simple archivist in Iacon.

"There's no need to stand near the door, dear Y/n. I promise. You are not in any trouble here." Your helm snaps from the shelves of data pads and towards the Prime sitting at his desk. It was cluttered with data pads and reports. A few trinkets here and there. There was even a floating holo screen of what you assumed was him and a few other bots in one corner.

"I was told you needed me sir?" You strode to the center of the room. Just before the Primes desk. He smiled and shook his helm before rising from his seat.

"Please. There is no need for formalities here. I am just Optimus. " The Prime rounded the side of his desk before leaning against the side of it. Crossing his arms over his chassis.

You swallowed thickly. Finding yourself falling into a parade rest. "I was told you needed me, Optimus?" You repeated the question with his name instead. He gave a small laugh when he looked over at you.

"I meant it when I said there was no need for formalities Y/n. Please." Optimus pushed himself away from the desk as you made an attempt to stand comfortably. It was a little awkward.

Optimus stopped before you by less that a foot. You had to raise you helm to look him in the optics. You were not exactly a small mech but you reached just below the Primes chin.

"But yes. I did want you down here. I wanted to discuss something with you." His servo rose. The palm of his servo hovering just next to your helm before settling firmly on your shoulder. You couldn't help but look to that servo. Then to him as he began talking once again. "I have heard you've done good work here. And i'm proud of the fact that you are." The servo fell then digits hooked just below your chin.

Your spark began pounding in your chest. "I expect you have met my gifts well?" You optics widden and you pull away from those digits.

"That was you?" Your voice rose slightly at the end. At least that was a conformation. Whether or not it set you at ease was debatable to say the least.

"Of course. I'm sorry I couldn't deliver them in person though. I didn't need the others thinking I was playing favorites." His optics looked your faceplates over. His glossa darted out to wet his lips. "I find you to be the most brilliant mech I have had the honour to have in my troops yet. Y/n I have been hung over you since the moment I saw you." His servos cup either side of your helm. The size of them almost engulfing you.

"There is something addicting about you. I have yet to lay my servo on it. But. I wish to have you, if you will." His thumb brushed along your bottom lip. His optics following the movement of his thumb as he did this. "Of course we will have to keep this secret for a while. But I do not mind." His voice was low. Almost rattling in your chassis from how close he was now.

Chassis to chassis. Touching. So close. If the two of you were to slide the metal away. Surely your sparks would touch. The gesture here. Now. It was intimate.

Suffocating.

"Sir we can't. Its." Optimus's face darkened.

"Optimus. Please. Call me Optimus." His servos fell and once reached down to grab yours. He brought it up to his lips and layed a kiss on your scarred knuckles. His optics were on you the entire time. Blown wide with. Attraction? Lust? "And we can. The others will learn to deal with it."

Something pleasurable flooded your field when his wrapped over yours. Your processer fogged and you didn't know what to do. "Optimus I." You stopped when that pleasure flooded over you again. You legs shook and before you knew it you were moving. Your legs hit the desk and one moment you were standing. The next you were sitting. Optimus's servos wrapped around your thighs as he lifted yo up and onto it.

For a moment the fog lifted and you looked up to see a loopy grin on the Primes faceplates.

"Oh you look stunning just like that. I wonder if I could make you make that face again." He was between your legs. His servo traveled from your thigh and over your hip. It sprawled out over your stomach plating and up your chassis. His digits dipped in seems and pulled at wires that had a heat pooling below.

You whimper when his lips finally connecting with yours. Shivers running down your frame as he moves fervently. His servos cradle your helm as he does this. Drawing you in close. You servos find his wrists. You didn't know if you wanted to pull him away or hold him there so he would keep going.

He did leave you those gifts. It. It makes sense that he wouldn't do it in person. Right?

Right?

The two of you pull away with heated breaths. A string of fluid following your lips before breaking apart.

Your faceplates felt hot. Your vents where going rapidly. Trying to cool your heated frame.

Optimus lent in again and again. Laying kiss after kiss until he found your neck. Nibbling and sucking along the cabling there. You shiver and shook at the assault. Your frame reacting pleasantly to what he was doing.

"Such sweet sounds you are making. I wonder if you will sing the same while on my spike." His hips rolled as he said this. His servo landed on top of your interface array. "Please? My Y/n please?" Optimus spoke breathlessly. His helm pressed to yours. Your nose bumping against his as he moved to press another kiss to your lips. "For me? Please?"

And you did. Your array springing open and revealing your spike and valve to the room.

"The. The door. Is it locked?" You asked.

"Mmm? Yes." Optimus told you. His digits fluttering over your valve. A whimper left your lips as he teased you. Digits skimming over your valve. Your aching node to tease your weeping spike. "Look at you. Is all this for me?" He pressed a kiss to your chin.

"Yeah." You spoke. "Yeah. Just for you." A low moan left you when he sunk his digits within you. Digits curling as he pumped them in and out of you. He moved slowly. Gathering the fluid that left you and spreading his digits apart to slowly ease you into taking his spike.

He didn't want to hurt you after all. Not after waiting for so long. And not with you being so nice and willing.

You almost cried when those cleaver digits left you. Only for you to give a shudder when he put those same digits in his mouth. Glossa working around and between his digits tasting everything you had to offer.

"You taste sweeter than I thought you would be Y/n." He humed as his own interface array pulled away. He gave is own spike a few languid strokes before placing it between your shaking legs. "Relax. I will not hurt you." The tip of his spike pressed into you. "Relax my y/n." He guided himself within you. Moving slowly. He briefly pulled back at one point before sliding forward.

Optimus paused when he was fully seated within you. Giving his hips a few experimental rolls as he watched you come completely undone beneath him.

He was absolutely enthralled with the way you threw your helm back when he began to move. He happily complied with your pleas of more. Harder. Just like that.

You were being so good. So kind after all. How was he not to do what you asked when you were doing such a good job. He even told you as much.

"Look at you. Being such a good mech for me. You are taking me so well my y/n." His hips stuttered when he felt you squeeze around him from the praise. "You are taking my spike so good. You pretty valve feels so nice. So good. Gripping my spike so." He paused when he felt pleasure rack through him when you squeezed him once again.

Optimus was sure to note this in the back of his helm for future fragging sessions.

He could feel his overload coming and coming quickly. And if the way your were keening and moaning. Chanting his name so sweetly. Well, he knew yours was close as well.

Optimus rolled his field over yours and watched as you threw your helm back. Static spitting out of your vocalizer as you overloaded and over loaded hard. Your frame falling pliant under his servos.

Optimus found his soon after you. Pulling you close and leaning on your body.

He was sure to bring you into his habsuit. Cleaning your dirtied frame. Optimus took in the welled energon on your neck cabling. The slight paint transfer around your thighs from your coupling.

He'd be damned if he was letting you leave anytime soon.

[periprose]

Hello dear! My request for you is: TASM Peter Parker + IDFC by Blackbear. I think the music fits perfectly in the dilemmas of Peter and fem!reader. What do you think? Thanks ;)

ahhh this is the best idea ever!! I love this song lol thank you for requesting it!

note: I'm writing Peter as the person feeling the emotions of the song

/

Peter watches as you get more inebriated. God, how many drinks could you throw back, the burning amber liquid seeming to have no effect on your throat?

His jaw clenches as he watches you giggle, snort, stumble over your words towards Flash. Flash Thompson, big blonde jock, not worthy of your attention, not like this. Flash would never know how much pining and groveling Peter had done just to get you to look at him the same way.

And last week? You did. You smiled at him, as if he was the only person in the world, the only guy worthy of your attention. You smiled and Peter's stomach exploded with butterflies and nausea and all those typical feelings that Uncle Ben had always told him would happen.

You certainly don't remember any of that right now. You're drunkenly giggling- your face reaches closer to Flash's own at the dinner table, and Peter cringes as he tries to look away, heart shattering as Flash combs back a piece of your hair. He knows- he knows- you might as well have been another pretty girl at Flash's disposal, and that he would never treasure you as you should be.

Flash licks his lips, and Peter feels himself give in. To the anger that he swore he'd never feel- the agony he feels because he's always thought you liked him. That one day, you would put a resolution to this dynamic you had with him- he just never thought it would be like this.

Peter gets going. He takes his bag, his camera, everything he brought for your stupid party, and heads out the front door, slamming it a little too hard.

Flash moves, perturbed. "Looks like that psycho is getting into one of his moods again."

"Oh, no..." You don't know why Peter's run out the door like that, but you let go of Flash, who to his credit, doesn't really mind.

"Peter, Peter!" You call after him, wrapping your arms around yourself. It's cold outside and your drunken stupor does not help.

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk. The street light illuminates him, and you don't notice how Peter's hand is balled into a fist.

"Hey. Why are you leaving, what happened?" You look up at him in confusion.

Peter can tell you're still too drunk to really talk things out with him. The fact that you're even pretending to care with him right now hurts. But despite that... he still wants you to lie to him. To be compassionate- even if Peter knows it's fake, he feels like it's better than nothing.

Unfortunately, you're still rather drunk, and Peter has to steady you with the most chaste of touches. He watches as you stumble over your words, not once, not twice, but three times of trying to work up something to say. And he just... he doesn't want your half-assed, drunken pity.

He knows for a fact you don't love him. That it was a fake dynamic concocted by his own idiocy.

"P-Peter?" You mumble up at him. "I don't want you to be unhappy with me. What's wrong?"

Peter shuts his eyes, feeling embarrassed to have to comfort you, but he doesn't know what else to do.

"Nothing's wrong. I didn't have anything to do at the party, so I thought I'd go back home." Peter shrugs as if it was completely nonchalant on his part. "No offense, but I was bored out of my mind. And I don't fucking care enough to exchange niceties and make other people feel comfortable."

You flinch, and Peter feels bad for just a moment. Just a second. Becuase you're not sober, so you're not in the best state of mind.

But he's been playing the fool this entire time, and he thinks it would be nice if you felt the same for a bit. Just for a day or two. He really doesn't care to see what you get up to at your fun, cool party, with fun, cool drinks and slutty, slutty hook ups.

"I... I'm sorry. If I knew that..." You swallow, looking down at the sidewalk, feeling humiliated by Peter's comments. You've always tried to be a good friend for him- you've always wanted to do right by him.

But something about the coldness in his tone right now tells you to back off. And you do so, with a lump in your throat.

"I would tell you to stay, but, um..." You shake your head. "Have a safe walk home."

Peter nods tightly and moves quickly, telling himself that he doesn't care. He didn't see the tears hanging from your eyelashes. He does not care especially because you're willing to tamper with his feelings so much.

He thinks that you'll be fine. You'll have Flash whispering sweet nothings into your ear, pressing kisses on your cheek and neck, and you won't ever pay him mind ever again. He represses the urge to go and make things right- go and fix things so you won't end up with a douche like Flash.

Peter knows no one has ever cared about him. He knows he's a bit of a nerd, an anti-social weirdo, and even if you made the effort to bridge the gap... he feels it's better this way. Why change?

He works on not giving a fuck. He pretends to not care when Aunt May asks how the party was. He does not lie awake thinking about you in the throes of passion, mouth open, chest flushed and red as Flash begins his disgustingly inelegant thrusts. Especially because it should've been him doing that, him and you together, and since it isn't- he doesn't fucking care.

/

Peter is surprised to see you sitting at his dinner table the next morning.

He's half asleep, but entirely awake when he sees you. Your eyes are bright, misty, a little teary- you have clearly been waiting for him. It looks as if you've spent some time regretting what you did to him.

Good, Peter thinks. Good that you understand how I felt for once.

"Aunt May let you in?" Peter asks, and you meekly nod. Peter doesn't have it in him to scoff at you- you're too clearly upset and he, try as he might not to care, still doesn't want to see you cry.

He thinks for a moment that you might've done so last night.

"Peter. Please, talk to me." You stand up from the table, but Peter isn't really listening, because he's grabbing cereal and a bowl, and trying to ignore you.

"You said everything you needed to say yesterday." Peter shrugs.

"No way. We didn't even get to talk about anything before you ran off." You cross your arms, but your gaze is still soft. "What did I do wrong? Tell me, so I can make things right."

"Sure, tell me a few more of your pretty little lies. That'll help." Peter scoffs with a heaping amount of pessimism, and you look even more hurt than you did yesterday.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Really?" Peter shuts the fridge a little too hard after pulling out the milk. "Okay, play dumb. I don't really care anymore. You've been out all night, probably fucking Flash, and you want me at your beck and call to be... what? Some sort of pushover? Do you have any idea how ruthless it is to mess with people's feelings?"

You gasp, but Peter isn't finished.

"You never loved me. You never even liked me." He shakes his head, getting a resolute look of sadness on his face. "You know how hard it is to be me? Be a fucking loser who has to try so hard to even get people to like him a little bit?"

Peter bites back some of his resentment, knowing that he doesn't want your pity. "Never mind. I don't care, just live your life without me."

"Peter. How can you just-" You inhale, a tight short breath that has Peter feeling that maybe he said too much.

Oh well. Seeing you again had ignited those angry feelings, and even if he pretended not to care- he still needed to speak on it.

"Me and Flash aren't anything. We didn't even kiss, for crying out loud-" You run your hand through your hair, feeling insane. "I'm sorry. I should've watched how close I was to him. I got a little bit too drunk."

"Yeah, you did." Peter snaps back.

"I really, really like you, asshole." You shut your eyes, feeling bile in your throat from how Peter seems to be judging you so harshly. "I thought I did. I don't know anymore. I pretended not to give a fuck because you always- you seem so aloof, Peter, and it was easier to pull away because I didn't want to get hurt- but I'm actually fucking scared of losing you. I guess I should've made that more obvious."

Peter pauses. Feels his heart thump a little harder, this time with immense regret. He loves you, he knows he does, and hearing the same thing from you? The same feeling of inadequacy, of wanting to be enough but having to pretend not to care?

Peter grabs your arm as you try to leave. You're stubborn, but he shakes his head- he looks remorseful.

"I'm sorry." He pulls you into a hug, one that you don't respond to for a moment, until you tentatively hug him back. "I am an asshole. I love you a lot, you must know that. It's not an excuse- I just wanted you to feel as bad as I did."

"Well, mission accomplished." You mumble into his chest. "I'm sorry, too."

"I thought I was like, some fool that was easily duped by a pretty girl like you." Peter admits, and you laugh. "No, really. You're too good for me."

"Let me decide that, Peter." You shake your head at him. "Come on. Why don't we try this again?"

Peter agrees, and thinks now is a better moment than ever to do what he wanted to do yesterday. He combs back your hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss there, and then leans in and kisses you, relishing in the fact that you tipped your head back so easily. Just for him, no one else.

[tizeline]

Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:

1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?

2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!

3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)

Oh this is fun! :D

1) The drawing I'm the most proud of this year is actually one I never ended up posting lmao, so I suppose this is the perfect reason to actually do that

I always feel a bit self-concious about posting non-fanart drawings cuz they don't tend to gain as much attention. Which, I am fully aware that there are more important things than clout! But I am a simple woman, I crave validation 😔 Anyway, I am still very happy about how this one turned out. I very much prefer drawing characters over enviroments, which led to me being way worse at drawing enviroments than characters, so I've been pushing myself for the last couple of years to get better at drawing backgrounds and surroundings. While I still definetily have a lot of room for improvement, this illustration here is the best I've done in drawing enviroments yet.

2) Again, original stuff don't tend to get as much attention (which I fully understand btw, I don't wanna make it seem like I'm complaining too much, I very much appreciate any and all support I get!!!!) but this post with some doodles of my OCs as well as this random drawing of some forest with a big stone head lying in it are a couple of posts I wouldn't mind if more people saw so..... the links are there if ya wanna have a look 👀

3) Oh man, I've seen so many awesome artpieces this year, i can't guarantee that these are my actual top 3 picks, but here are some that I could remember liking (and that I also managed to find lol) (also these are in no particular order

This GIF was the first piece of RotTMNT fanart I ever reblogged and it's still glued to my mind it's just great honestly.

Man I do not like Timothy in the 2012 TMNT series at all but MAN do I love the way pinetreevillain adapted the character for the Rise universe! He's made quite a few comics of Rise!Timothy and he made the character so extremely likable I just hdsjhgjakfga also Pine's artstyle is delicous yummy yum go check out his art now!

I really like those reanimation projects where a bunch of people collaborate and reanimate induvidual segments in their own style, and there was recently one of those released that was a remake of The Clothes Don't Make The Turtle episode from season two of RotTMNT and it's great! Go and watch it here!