#and it would get me to look up so much music

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

More Doki Doki Battle Academy OP AU

even MOOROEEE of themmmmmahhhhhhh babyeyyy i even added some dialogues fir some extra flavourrrrr (kuma and bonney's gif there would be a sprite he would have in his dialogue scenes. i dont think it would be a gif like this, more like everytime you look back at him, bonney would be in a different spot)

original DDBA designs post (has more lore there, go look at it plese :3

imagining the vinsmoke/strawhat beef going like this video

design stuffs and more lore:

preface: sorry this is so much writing and im not going to grammar check it cuz aint no body got time for that.

The world of this au is like pokemon with different gyms you can fight through and beat, there's a big league of pro fighters, and there are schools for teaching you to be a better fighter.

One of the schools is called the Germa 66 Private Battle Academy, it goes from grades 1-12 and its where the Vinsmoke siblings all went too (at least until sanji broke off from the family at some point) and its run by Judge Vinsmoke, their father.

i am thinking that the Vinsmoke kids would still be genetically modified and Kuma would be a cyborg in this too.

design stuffs:

Ichiji: i tried to make him as punk as he would feasably get away with living under his father's rule. Big "combat" boots, fingerless gloves, black undershirt. He likes his style and would probably go all out if he didnt have to conform to his school uniform, thus i put a little heart on his boots.

Niji: i also made him like his style. The rings on his fingers, his nikes shoes, his big headphones. Like a gamer who thinks this is what fashion is. I think he would love listening to music too so i put his heart on his headphones.

Yonji: big stakly guy. Hes a lot more hands-on than his brothers so i put lots of emphasis on that area. i put his heart on his hand wraps because i think he would really love fighting. I think that Yonji is most like his father in that enjoyment, but i think Judge wouldnt like how casual Yonji's style is.

Reiju: y2k queen. I love this design on her so much im so bummed that she would have already graduated from the academy and i cant put her in a Hit Me Baby One More Time-esque uniform outfit, shed fucking KILL THAT SHITTT. Anyway though, reiju's heart is subtle yet in plain view, the locket around her neck. i dont think she would let anyone look at the contents but i do think that absolutly it would be her mother on one side and her brothers on the other. She wouldnt like people looking at it because that would mean someone could see that her dad isnt in there and she would get it a lot of trouble with her father about it.

Power ranger fits: i made them full on power rangers. its what they deserve. Since reiju has a butterfly motif in canon, i thought it would be fun to also give her brothers a bug motif of their own. ichiji is a wasp, niji is a dragonfly, yonji is a stag beetle. If sanji stuck around, hed probably be a lady bug lol. Also the masks they wear, the eye window part, it’s like tear tracks coming out but in a way that doesnt look like thats what they are. But it’s meant to show how judge forcing his children to be these people is causing them pain.

thank you @zethsdumpster for being my Vinsmoke specialist and helping me come up with a lot of their design stuff!

Doflamingo: i tried to make him a Nasty Nasty man. Like if a used car salesman made it big. Like if Macklemore was MackleMORE. i love the idea that he likes to tan himself, but he doesnt take any of his clothes off to do so, so he just has the absolute craziest tan lines ever. i put his hearts on the gold chain around his neck, he loves his wealth but not much else. i love the idea of him having two very expensive watches on each wrist. there may be more watches up his sleeve too. i also gave him fluffy dice around his neck, like he's one of the cars that he's selling.

Rosinante: i couldnt get away much longer without putting the heart man into the heart 'game'. i couldve went off more with the hearts of his design but i didnt want him to become nearly as flashy as his brother. i wanted him to be understated and fade into the background when doflamingo is around. he is dead in this au btw sorry :/ this is his design when he passed, but doffy's design is present day him. anyway, Rosi's hearts are everywhere, its in the outline of his big huggable fluffy coat, its on his hat thats pulling him down, it would be on his shirt too if it wasnt covered by his coat in this image.

Bonney: SHEEES SO CUUTEEEE AAAAAAAA i love her. I based her design off of Avril Lavigne with her iconic necktie/tanktop/baggy pants looks. i tried to make her outfit look like she could feasibly fit in it when she ages herself up, especially her big ol shoes. the heart in her design is in her neck tie. The stereotypical visage of a dad is a man in a tie who goes to work, and she loves her dad, so her heart is in her dad tie.

Kuma: I didn't change much of him from his design in canon, but since bonney would be more in his life in this version, i wanted to give him more visual indicators of her being there. like the height chart on his leg, or the fuzzy hat she crocheted for him (she also made her own hat for herself). Also, the pattern on his shirt is one that looks like a paw, but if you took off that outer layer, if the pattern continued, the design would be a sun, and i just think that was really clever ehe ehe.

Hancock: Basically i tried to make her the baddest bitch in the universe. My program crashed like 3 times making her which is so funny. Procreate couldnt handle her. I based her design off of Medusa. at first i had her snake be made out of marble, but it eventually wound up at Obsidian. She has no visible hearts on her design and thats because it would be the scar on her back, which she tries to hide. i like the idea that this very visibly revealing outfit would be perfectly tailored and reinforced to never move a single inch to let anyone see what theyre not supposed to. I dont know how i would justify her being able to turn people into stone in this AU, so im just not going to make a decision on whether or not she can do that.

ive been working on these designs off and on ever since i made the first post on this au and im real happy i can finally put more out.

if you got to the end of this, thank you so much for reading~ i hope you enjoyed :)

[lila-kriegerin]

OMG, OP!

I was just about to suggest "Now & Then "

but I saw it in your tags.

I'm so sorry this may look like an unhinged rant no one asked for, but someone has to tell people younger than me what I know, so I spent 2 hours crafting a reply/follow-up/addendum to you post, OP. Please forgive any formatting errors. I tried to keep things simple and engaging but a few things may look a little bit odd depending on what sort of device you're viewing it on. I couldn't take the risk of making all the text too small

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQLVzTtt2Ws

The biggest problem trying to find similar films is that they often involve at least two of the girls having some kind of relationship to boys causing drama (I'm looking at you, "Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants "... and others) whereas a film like "Dead Poets Society " is definitely in that pseudo-homoerotic and explicitly homoerotic range of storytelling.

Why do you think "Little Women" was popular for so long? It was the 1oth century literary equivalent with the requisite brush with death and loss so common to an era before even antibiotics existed... and loss and grief still happen today.

It's true that so few are like "Newsies " and "West Side Story ", but DON'T sleep on hits like "Annie" &

🥁 drumroll, please 🥁

Want to guess what was the first obviously gay song featured in a film from Hollywood (after the Hayes Code)?

The First Gay Anthem: Calamity Jane's 'Secret Love'

It's not "West Side Story " because it's a western frontier musical, and they skirted the lines as hard as they could to have a nice Christian young woman fancying a "tomboy": Calamity Jane (who by historical record seems to have favoured women and men).

Though based on American Western folklore, this premise clearly imitated the successful 1950 film version of Irving Berlin's Broadway musical Annie Get Your Gun, about Wild West sharpshooter Annie Oakley.

But instead of a make-over, Calamity Jane gives its tough-gal heroine a powerfully symbolic pistol; her masculine aggression plays with sexual identity through gestures enlarged to the point of farce. And then it goes deeper--into emotional confusion that grows from Jane taking on supposed male habits. Doris Day brings comic overstatement to Jane's complex repression of her own instincts. Like many a closet case, she exhibits a self-defeating willingness to fit into a male-dominated culture. Her tough mannerisms are also designed to protect her hidden, vulnerable emotions.

You have to dig.

Dig deep, and be willing to watch a film with a different spoken language and culture, but there are some parallels.

Consider the Britney Spears film, which I believe is called "Crossroad(s)" in English. [Sorry, I don't have time to look up the title.]

Now— what if there were a film that's something a bit like a lesbian equivalent?

Touch

A Chinese movie produced/sponsored by the sapphic dating app Rela. It follows three girls on a road trip. Chinese language with English subtitles.

I've never, EVER seen any website draw direct comparisons to other films that way, such as:

If you loved "She's The Man" but want it more sapphic (though ultimately thwarted by the producer), you can't miss "Bend It Like Beckham"!

The photo which was posted by OP DOES contain valid points!! (No one is going to treat you "like a man/boy" unless they truly think that's what you are, and society DOES socialise people differently, so: how would a group of teenage girls or very young adult women ever have experiences identical to those in a film like "Dead Poet's Society"?)

Nevertheless, there are some similar films that are comparable:

"Superbad" — "Booksmart".

I decided to hyperfocus trying to think up some equivalents to "Dead Poet's Society".

Here's a quick comparison I spent far too much time on:

If you’re looking for a Dead Poets Society equivalent with mostly female characters, a few films capture that same blend of deep emotional intimacy, artistic passion, and repressed desire. Here are the best contenders:

1. Mädchen in Uniform (1931 & 1958)

This is the OG queer boarding school drama. Set in a strict Prussian girls' school, it follows a young student, Manuela, who falls in love with her teacher, Fräulein von Bernburg. The film is explicitly homoerotic in a way that Dead Poets Society is only suggestive of—there’s longing glances, whispered affections, and a stifling environment that tries to crush individuality and desire. Like Neil, Manuela faces tragic consequences for daring to express herself.

Cracks (2009) — If Dead Poets Society were darker and more explicitly about queer desire, it would be Cracks. This film follows a group of girls at a remote British boarding school under the spell of their charismatic teacher, Miss G (Eva Green, in all her seductive, unhinged glory). When a new student arrives, power struggles and hidden obsessions unravel. It has all the repression, poetry, and tragic queerness you could want.

Heavenly Creatures (1994) — Peter Jackson (yes, Lord of the Rings Peter Jackson) directed this feverishly intense drama about two schoolgirls in 1950s New Zealand—Pauline and Juliet—whose bond becomes so consuming that it leads to murder. Like Dead Poets Society, it’s about breaking free from repression, but it takes a much darker turn. The homoerotic tension between the girls is undeniable, and the fantasy world they create as an escape mirrors the way the DPS boys use poetry to carve out their own space in a suffocating environment.

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) — This one’s all about atmosphere—a haunting, dreamlike film about a group of girls at an Australian boarding school who mysteriously vanish during a picnic. While there’s no overt romance, the film is full of lingering touches, dreamy stares, and a pervading sense of longing and repression. The rigid Victorian setting and the contrast between the natural world and societal constraints make it feel spiritually connected to DPS.

The Falling (2014) — Starring Florence Pugh and Maisie Williams, this film is weird and hypnotic. It’s set in an all-girls school in the 1960s and follows a mysterious fainting epidemic that spreads through the students. It has the same themes of teenage rebellion, deep female friendships that tip into obsession, and an oppressive institution trying to crush individual expression.

Céline and Julie Go Boating (1974) — This is a more whimsical, surreal take on female friendship and creativity. It follows two women who fall into a bizarre, looping story in a haunted house, constantly re-experiencing and altering the narrative. It has a Dead Poets Society vibe in the sense that it’s about escaping rigid reality through art and imagination, but with a queer-coded, magical twist.

If you want the closest equivalent to "Dead Poets Society"...

..."Mädchen in Uniform" or "Cracks" are your best bets, and Cracks more than Mädchen in Uniform

because the latter is so old fashioned that to further scandalise viewers they paired a teacher with a student.

If you want something more poetic and atmospheric, "Picnic at Hanging Rock" or "The Falling" will scratch that itch.

If all of that is too gay for you (gofuckyourself, tee-hee)

You really, REALLY should try

"Mona Lisa Smile".

(...and if it's not too gay for you, then go watch CRACKS right now!)

"Mona Lisa Smile" [hereafter referred to as MLS] is often called the "Dead Poets Society" [hereafter, DPS] for women, and yeah, it certainly hits a lot of the same beats—

an outsider teacher inspiring students to challenge societal norms,

a prestigious school that values obedience over individuality, and

a group of young people grappling with expectations that threaten to suffocate them.

Where DPS is about breaking free through poetry and self-expression, MLS is about that sort of thing tosome degree, but more about feminism, gender roles, and the fight for intellectual freedom in a world that wants women to be just wives and mothers.

Similarities to Dead Poets Society

The Inspirational Teacher as a Catalyst for Change

In DPS, John Keating (Robin Williams) shakes up Welton Academy’s rigid, tradition-obsessed environment with poetry and passion.

In MLS, Katherine Watson (Julia Roberts) does the same at Wellesley College, using art history to challenge her students’ pre-ordained roles as perfect housewives.

Both teachers are NOT merely instructing— they’re awakening their students, making them see the world differently, and often doing so in ways that put them at odds with their school’s administration.

The Oppressive Institution and Its Ideals

Welton Academy is a suffocating prep school that values discipline over creativity, much like Wellesley College in the 1950s. They outwardly promote academic excellence but ultimately groom women to become ideal wives. (T_T)

Both films show how these institutions uphold deeply ingrained traditions that resist change, even when it's clearly needed.

Both films show some of the human cost of trying, and giving up.

A Group of Students at a Crossroads

Just like Todd, Neil, and the rest of the DPS boys who struggle between expectation and their own desires, the young women in MLS— Joan, Betty, Giselle, and Connie—each navigate their own battles between societal pressure and personal ambition.

Joan (Julia Stiles) mirrors Todd.

Betty (Kirsten Dunst) is like a mix of Cameron and Richard from DPS.

Giselle (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is the Charlie of the group.

The Tragedy of Repression

DPS’s tragedy is clear: someone's dreams are crushed & there is a heartbreaking su*c*de [all the trigger warnings apply]. MLS doesn’t have a singular moment that tragic, but its heartbreak is quieter—seeing some brilliant young women choose societal expectations over their own ambitions because it feels like the only option... that is definitely going to haunt some people more than it may haunt white cis-hetero male viewers.

In both films, someone (one you probably like most of all, in both films) will have something horrible happen to them by their own choice, and that is very haunting.

Additionally, I dont think it's too big a spoiler to say oth films end with the teacher leaving— but to say why would spoil the endings of the films.

The last scenes mirror each other emotionally: in DPS & MLS, a quiet, bittersweet goodbye with both endings suggesting that while the teacher is gone, the ideas they planted will live on.

Key Differences

The Central Conflict

DPS is about breaking free from repression through art and poetry. It’s about passion, self-expression, and the fight for creative freedom.

MLS is about that too, though with more of a (*cough*white*cough*cough*) feminist focus on gender roles, feminism, and intellectual independence to have intellectual and self growth as an individual— and it asks whether women can truly be free when they’re still expected to conform to outdated expectations.

Homoerotic "Sub"text

[be honest: if you miss it in either film you're in denial or unobservent and that is your own journey you need to take]

DPS is filled with homoerotic tension, especially between Todd and Neil. The intimacy between the boys—the longing glances, the whispered poetry, the emotional weight of their friendships—feels deeply charged.

If you DEMAND that level of queerness, MLS ain't it.

MLS has some queer subtext, particularly with [one character], who is coded as more fluid in her sexuality, but the film doesn’t lean into that as much as DPS does because it's focused more on the pseudo-historical narrative from the book upon which it was based.

Don't forget that DPS came out to cinemas...

THEN "The Craft" did,

THEN "Cruel Intentions" did,

THEN MLS.

DPS was intentionally pushing boundaries of censors for queer story-telling when the USA was still afraid for gay people to peck each other with a little kiss on the lips on television before 10 PM.

DPS ends in a tragedy that reinforces the cost of defying the system— [spoilers redacted], and the boys are [narratively] left in a state which leaves the viewers feeling a bittersweet limbo.

MLS is perhaps a bit more hopeful; and although the school seemingly remains unchanged, things in that world have definitely shifted for the characters.

Their worlds aren't fully transformed though for MLS, it’s beginning to open up, but MLS leaves viewers with their own bittersweet limbo like DPS[-lite] with a sliver of a dash of hope.

Final Verdict:

"Mona Lisa Smile" is "Dead Poets Society" through a differing feminist lens.

It swaps poetry for art,

an all-boys school for an all-girls college, and

queer-coded male friendships for female students fighting for their intellectual freedom.

It has the same spirit—

a teacher who inspires students to think for themselves, an oppressive institution trying to maintain order, and young people wrestling with societal expectations.

However, where DPS is a tale of tragic repression, MLS leans toward quiet rebellion— not a fiery "O Captain, My Captain" moment, but a slow, steady push toward change.

just saw this on pinterest and it hit me like a truck

[the-offside-rule]

Joe Burrow (Cinccinati Bengals) - Game Day and Grammys

Requested: no but someone asked about NFL imagines and the Pro Bowl and Grammys were on so how could I miss this opportunity?

Prompt: Joe Burrow x singer!girlfriend

Warnings: none other than it being long and full of fluff

Y/n sat in the plush chair of her hotel suite, a stylist curling sections of her hair while another dabbed powder on her already flawless face. The room buzzed with quiet excitement—her team murmuring about last-minute dress fittings, run-throughs, and camera angles. After all, tonight was the biggest night of her career. Five Grammy nominations. Five.

But her attention? Completely divided. On the sleek flatscreen across the room, the Pro Bowl was in full swing. Her boyfriend, Joe Burrow, was out there, tossing passes and leading drives while she got glammed up for music’s biggest stage. She’d wished she could be there, but the Grammys and the game fell on the same night, and there was no way to be in two places at once.

Her phone vibrated in her lap. Another text from Joe.

Joe: This is so much fun. Wish you were here

She grinned, typing back quickly.

Y/n: Wish I was too. But you better be focused, Burrow. No interceptions.

Another buzz.

Joe: No INTs. Just vibes. Also… scored a touchdown. No big deal.

Y/n let out a laugh, her lips quirking as she typed her reply.

Y/n: A touchdown?? Damn, you haven’t scored one of those in a while.

Her stylist stifled a giggle behind her. "Good news?" She smirked. "Joe just ran one in himself." Her phone buzzed again.

Joe: Wow. The slander.

Joe: But fair.

Joe: Good luck tonight, superstar.

Joe: Ja'Marr said if you win two tonight, that makes it 9 grammys you have ever won

Joe: And guess what my number is?

Y/n chuckled at the coincidence. No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, they were always supporting each other.

Y/n: Alright, QB1. Ill get the Grammy's you worry about not getting tagged.

With one last glance at the game, she turned back to the mirror, ready to take on her own championship night.

The flashbulbs were blinding as Y/n posed on the red carpet, her dress hugging her perfectly while she effortlessly smiled at the cameras. The energy was electric; reporters calling out her name, fans screaming behind the barricades. She was used to this, but tonight felt different. Bigger.

As she moved down the carpet, she began her interviews, each asking the same old question that she had rehearsed about a million times. How does it feel to be nominated 5 times? She had been nominated for Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Record of the Year, Pop Vocal Album and Music Video of the Year. She had been to the grammys before but she had only ever been nominated twice each year. Granted, she did win them, racking up an astonishing 7 grammys in just 4 years, but her once edgey music had shifted to softer love songs, all thanks to a certain quarter back.

She smiled as she moved on down the carpet to her last interviewer, a little kid who she had seen on tik tok time and time again. "Oh my gosh, hello!" She smiled as she did her best to get down onto the kid's level. Her calf were killing her from the heels standing, nevermind squatting down. "You look beautiful. I love the dress." She said. "Thank you! And you look so beautiful too." The child replied. "I have a few questions for you if thats okay?"

"Of course! I would love to hear them." Y/n said warmly as she held her own microphone. "So, obviously this is your record for the most amount of Gammys that you have been nominated for. If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that this would be happening, what would you say?" Finally a way to answer the question of how she felt about being nominated that didn't involve her rehearsed answer. "I think I would tell my younger self to keep going, to believe in myself and don't put the guitar down because it's gotten me this far." Y/n replied. "Your album Nine Sunday Mornings was a very abrupt change in your music. It was more edgey and angsty the last time you were here-" Y/n laughed at the very blunt question. "Why do you think this change happened or is it because you just got bored of that genre?" Now that was a good question.

"I mean, as you said it was a big change. I mean any love song I wrote before was scrapped because I thought it was too sappy so I stuck to breakup songs or rage songs. I think the change came in meeting Joe. From the songs right down to the title it's all him. I remember the very night I met him I stayed up nearly all night writing about the like 5 minute encounter we had and now it's nominated tonight so. I have to give credit where credit is due." She answered. "Have you been keeping up with the Pro Bowl?" Y/n laughed, adjusting the Grammy-branded microphone in her hand. "Of course! I have it on in my hotel room. Joe keeps texting me updates, so I think I might have a better play-by-play than some of the commentators."

Her manager tapped her shoulder to tell her to make her way inside, so she bid the mini-reporter farewell and walked in to the packed venue.

Once inside, Y/n glanced around, trying to spot her team. The Grammys were always a production, but tonight, the room felt even bigger. Row after row of tables and glowing stage lights. She turned in circles, scanning the room. Where were they? Her manager, her producer, anyone?

"Y/n?"

She spun around to see Jack approaching, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. "Hey, are you okay?" She let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, I just… I can’t find my seat. I have no idea where my team is." Before Jack could respond, a familiar voice chimed in.

"She can sit with us!"

Y/n turned to see Taylor Swift standing a few feet away, a warm smile on her face. Taylor, dressed in an elegant yet edgy ensemble, motioned toward her table. "If you don’t mind sitting with us, of course." Y/n hesitated for a second. She didn’t want to intrude- Taylor was with her own crew, and this was a huge night for her, too. "Are you sure?" She asked cautiously.

"Of course! Come on." Taylor said, looping an arm around her gently as they started walking toward the table. "Besides, we have a lot to talk about. I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting." Y/n chuckled, relaxing a little as she took a seat beside her. "Are you going to the Super Bowl?" Taylor asked after a moment.

Y/n shook her head. "No, I’ve never actually been. I told myself I wouldn’t go until Joe is the one playing in it." Taylor’s brows lifted in amusement. "Oh that is goals."

"Plus, I’m heading to his family’s house to watch it with them." She added. "I think it’ll be more special that way." Taylor smiled knowingly. "There’s nothing like watching a game with the people who love him most. Honestly, I think you guys are gonna be there next year." Y/n nodded, already picturing herself in the Burrow family’s living room, wearing one of Joe’s sweatshirts, surrounded by his parents and siblings. It felt right. "Honestly, I don't wanna be too picky but I want a Bengals and 49ers Superbowl. That would cure the world, I think."

"That would be a good one."

Just then, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. Y/n took a deep breath, ready to take on the night—Grammys, football updates, and all.

Joe stretched his arms over his head as he stepped into the hotel lobby, still buzzing from the Pro Bowl. The game had been fun, a rare chance to play a little looser, joke around with the guys, and even run in a touchdown himself—something Y/n was sure to remind him about later. His teammates followed behind him, still hyped up from the day. "Alright." Ja’Marr announced, clapping his hands. "Let’s turn on the Grammys. Gotta see Y/n win some trophies since Joe isn’t bringing any silverwear home."

Joe grinned as he nudged Ja'Marr for that dig, leading the way to the suite where they all piled onto the couches, flipping the TV on just in time to catch the ceremony in full swing. The room filled with snacks, drinks, and casual conversation, but anytime Y/n appeared on the screen, the guys would nudge Joe, who was watching intently, phone in hand, ready to text her.

Then came Best Pop-Vocal Album of the Year.

Joe sat forward, hands clasped as they listed the nominees. He knew how much work Y/n had put into this album—how many late nights, how many times she’d called him exhausted but excited, how much of her heart was poured into every track.

"And the Grammy goes to…"

Not her.

Joe exhaled, lips pressing together as he watched her smile and clap for the winner. She was graceful as ever, but he knew her well enough to see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "She said she was gonna be surprised if she got that one. She like, knew Sabrina was winning that hands down."

Then came Record of the Year.

Not her again.

"She got robbed." Russell Wilson muttered. "Bro, you're gonna be the first one singing Not Like Us at the halftime show next weekend." Lamar Jackson replied. "She's in like the toughest categories." James Cook added. Joe didn’t say anything, just shook his head. He hated seeing her not get what she deserved, but he knew Y/n. Knew she’d keep smiling, keep pushing forward. And damn it, he’d keep cheering her on, just like she always did for him.

It didn't matter. 2 down, 3 to go. Music Video of the Year.

Joe sat up straight. He knew this one mattered to her, too. Her video had been a passion project, something she’d fought to bring to life exactly the way she envisioned it. The competition was stacked—the other nominees had incredible visuals, and any of them could take it. Y/n sat at her table, her hands clasped in her lap, holding her breath. Joe could practically feel her nerves through the screen.

"She’s got this." He murmured. "She’s got this, she’s got this, she’s got this, come on, baby."

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n!"

Y/n gasped, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Taylor pulled her into a tight hug as the entire table erupted into cheers. Joe leapt off the couch, throwing his hands in the air. "Let's go! Yes! Wooh!" The suite exploded with excitement- Ja’Marr was shouting, some of the guys were recording Joe’s reaction, and others were laughing as Joe jumped up, singing along to the snippet of Y/n’s song that played as she made her way to the stage.

On the screen, Y/n’s smile was blinding, eyes slightly glossy as she accepted her award. Joe grinned, pride swelling in his chest. She’d done it. Just like she always did. "Oh my god, wow." She began. "I’ll be honest, I did not expect Music Video of the Year. There had been some amazing Music Videos so I just wanted to congratulate my fellow nominees and their directors." Joe clapped as he listened to her. "I want to thank my team, the fans, my family and all of you who voted for the video. My boyfriend Joe of course, who may or may not be still playing his game of tag football but I'm gonna thank him anyway." His face grew red. "I think that's all I have to say to be honest. Maybe I'll see you up here again pretty soon."

Joe lounged back on the couch, finally feeling like he could relax a little after all the emotional whiplash of the night ao far and he was still buzzing from it. "She’s performing next." Ja’Marr pointed out, nodding toward the TV. Joe sat up again, straightening his hoodie as the camera panned to the stage. The lights dimmed, and then—there she was.

His girl.

Y/n stood center stage, bathed in golden light, singing a balld version of her nominated song. She wore the most stunning outfit—a gold sparkling, elegant number that hugged her perfectly. She looked ethereal. "Jesus Christ." Joe muttered under his breath before saying a little louder, "Her outfit is so pretty." Some of the guys laughed. "Yeah, it is." Ja'Marr teased with a smirk. "You good over there, Burrow?" Russell asked, causing all the other guys to take notice of his blushing face and tease him further.

Joe just waved them off, eyes locked on the screen. Then, just as the song picked up, she reached down, grabbed the edges of her outfit, and-

Riiiipppp

The elegant gown was gone, revealing a bold, dazzling second outfit underneath—sleek, fun, and perfect for dancing. "Oh my God." Joe groaned, immediately hiding his face in his hands as the entire room exploded. The guys were shouting, laughing, some recording his reaction as they all clapped and cheered. "Ayyy! Okay, Y/n!" Ja'Marr called.

Joe shook his head, chuckling as his ears burned. He peeked through his fingers just in time to see her seamlessly transition into the next part of the performance, moving with ease, completely in her element. She was dancing, smiling, engaging the crowd like she was born for this moment. "I didn't know she could move like that! Damn!" Trey said.

Joe dropped his hands, watching as Y/n held the mic out, getting the entire crowd to sing along with her. She looked so happy, completely in control of the stage, like she was having the time of her life. Joe smiled. His teammates might have been teasing him, but he didn’t care. He was just so damn proud of her. As the song ended,she looked aroukd for the camera that would be zooming in on her. She spotted it and winked, before blowing a kiss right to it. Joe reached for the imaginaru kiss and put it to his heart as the guys teased him even further for it.

Joe sat back against the couch, his arm draped over the back as the next category came up—Song of the Year.

"Alright, this one’s huge." Ja’Marr said, leaning forward. Joe nodded, eyes locked on the screen. Y/n had poured everything into this song and she loved it the most for reason unknown to him, and even though she’d already won Music Video of the Year, he wanted this for her. Badly.

The nominees were stacked— some of the biggest songs of the year, including Y/n’s. The room quieted as the presenter opened the envelope.

"nd the Grammy goes to… Kendrick Lamar, Not Like Us!"

Joe exhaled, shaking his head, but before he could react, he spotted Y/n on screen, grinning and dancing along to the snippet of Not Like Us that played through the venue speakers. Joe burst out laughing. "She doesn’t seem too bothered." Trey snickered. "Bro, she looks kinda tipsy."

The whole room chuckled as they watched Y/n dancing up out of her seat singing along as Kendrick made his way to the stage. She was still clapping and smiling, showing nothing but love for the win, and Joe couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly cool she was about it. "She’s just vibin'." Joe said with a smirk, shaking his head.

And then finally came Album of the Year.

Her final nomination.

Joe sat up one last time, his heart pounding a little harder. He could see Y/n on screen, hands clasped together, her lips pressed tight as she waited. The tension in the room was thick, even through the television.

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n, Nine Sunday Mornings!"

She didn’t move.

She didn’t react at first—just sat there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Joe felt like the air had been sucked out of the room before he erupted. "Yes! Let's go baby!" He jumped up again, fists in the air as his teammates laughed, recording his reaction for the second time that night. "That’s my girl! That’s my girl!" He cheered, pacing the room as the suite filled with whoops and applause.

Back on the screen, Y/n finally stood, still in complete shock. As she made her way up to the stage, she kept shaking her head, her mouth open as if she still couldn’t believe it. She took the award in her hands, staring down at it, blinking before looking around. The crowd chuckled. She looked up at the mic, then back at the award. "What?" She squeaked.

Laughter rippled through the audience. Joe grinned, shaking his head. He could practically hear her thoughts—How? Against all those incredible albums? She took a deep breath, exhaling sharply, still looking down at the trophy. "I—I don’t even know what to say, honestly I'm a little drunk so-" Joe smiled proudly, watching her collect herself and begin her speech. She had done it. Two Grammys in one night. And even though he wasn’t there in person, he cheered for her just as loudly as she did for him on Sundays.

"I want to thank the incredible Jack Antanoff for helping me produce this album first and foremost, my team also. But there is one person in particular who I will ramble on about because he was the inspiration for every single song I wrote since the 9th of December 2023, when we first met." Joe felt his eyes watering upon hearing it. He didn’t lile seeing her cry, it often meant he would cry too. "The album itself is a hommage to the fact that it took just nine sunday mornings for us to decide we wanted to become a couple and honestly, those 9 Sunday mornings were the best I could have ever lived through because I got to fall in love with the love of my life." Joe wiped his eyes, lookong down as Ja'Marr patted his back in support. "Joe, wherever you are, I wanted you to know that this award is for you, you can put it right next to the Heisman and my other 8 Grammy's."

Joe chuckled lightly as her little dig. "And just in case this wasnt a clincidence enough already- I'm going to shout out Ja'Marr Chase for this information- this is my ninth Grammy, and its for Cinccinati's number 9." The microphone cut out, singalling that her time for speaking was up. She mouthed a very animated 'I love you' to the camera before smiling and heading off the stage.

As soon as Y/n sat back down at her table, she reached for her phone. Her hands were slightly shaking—part adrenaline, part sheer excitement. The night had been a whirlwind, and there was only one person she needed to talk to right now. She hit Joe’s contact, pressing the phone to her ear as the Grammys continued around her. The line barely rang once before he picked up.

"Baby!" She let out a breathless laugh. "Joe!"

"Oh my God!" He said, and she could hear the pure excitement in his voice. "You were insane. I mean first of all, two Grammys? And then that performance? What was that outfit change? You’re trying to kill me?" Y/n giggled, running a hand through her hair. "Did you like it?"

"Like it? Babe, I almost had a heart attack. These guys aren't gonna let me live it down." She laughed again, picturing Joe hiding his face in his hands while all his guys teased him. "I was just thinking about you the whole time." She admitted, voice a little softer now. "I figured you were watching."

"Of course I was watching." He said immediately. "Are you kidding? We had the Grammys on as soon as we got back. I was cheering for you all night." Y/n smiled, glancing down at her awards sitting in front of her. "It still doesn’t feel real. I mean…Album of the Year? What?"

"You earned that, Y/n. No one deserved it more." She bit her lip, warmth spreading through her chest. "I mean, Billie should have won it." She replied. "Oh my God, I'm gonna cry again."

"No, don't cry." He said quickly. "Not unless it’s happy tears." She laughed, leaning back in her chair. "How was the Pro Bowl? I feel like I barely got to ask you." Joe chuckled. "It was fun. I mean we lost, but it was fun."

"What was the score?" She asked. "Like 76 to 63 or somethin' like that?" He looked around for nods of approval. "Did I mention I scored?" Y/n chuckled. "Yeah and as I said before I haven’t seen you do that in a while."

"Okay, woah." He deadpanned, and she could hear his teammates laughing in the background. "I’m kidding." She teased. "I’m proud of you."

"I'm proud of you too, baby." Y/n exhaled, her whole body finally starting to relax after the chaos of the night. "I just wish you were here."

"Yeah, I know." Joe said softly. "But I’ll see you tomorrow. And then we can celebrate properly." She grinned. "Deal."

"I love you, Baby."

"Love you too, Shiesty "

As she hung up, she clutched her phone to her chest, still smiling. It had been a night to remember— and she couldn’t wait to get home to him.

[animamii]

i need some locked up toji headcannons real bad 😩

ohhh bebecita I gotchuu c; this is something slightt inbox me 4 more

lockedup!Toji always ends his phone calls with you by asking "So... whatcha wearing right now, princess?" Which you always respond with something along the lines of "you're ridiculous... you're impossible... you're too much..." along with that sweet lil giggle he loves so much.

lockedup!Toji always begs for you to send him pretty pictures with your letters. He misses seeing that face of yours. It always makes him smile when it's a simple, cute selfie. "There's my pretty girl..." he'd say to himself as his fingers brush over it. Then he gets to a picture of you showing too much cleavage or something a little more revealing and he's likeee AWOOOGAAA 😍😍 lmfao. But forreal he shuts his cell door and needs a little him time.

lockedup!Toji is addicted to his damn Honey Buns. His favorites are the creamy curl and jelly swirl. Something about that chocolate and cream. "The middle is all creamy, it reminds me of you." His nasty self would say.

lockedup!Toji would come out of the pen being a damn chef though. Since he had to use nasty ass processed food to make prison meals, he knows exactly how to use different ingredients to make some bomb ass food. But still,,,, he wants his damn honey buns and maybe will eat a jail spread occassionally.

lockedup!Toji always loves when you use those Hello Kitty stamps on the letters you send. Ofc his favorite sanrio character is Badtz Maru. But his favorite stamps are the ones of Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel. It always reminds him of you two.

lockedup!Toji always dedicates music to you, whether he tells it to you over the phone or in his letters. He always includes one song. Wholeheartedly dedicated Kiss Me Thru The Phone to you, lmfao and Honey Bun by Kodak Black. *I have a whole ass playlist for Toji + Sweetheart i luvvv it*

lockedup!Toji begging you to marry him so you can get conjugal visits. He can't stand seeing you looking so pretty from the other side of a glass. He needs to feel you and touch you and actually be fucking inside of you.

lockedup!Toji starts thinking about his future with you a lot. He wants to start a family with you, wants kids and a white picket fence house and all that shit. So he starts writing down baby names and all that stuff. He wants another son so bad, wants to name him Malachi.

lockedup!Toji always bragging about you to everyone else. It's commissary day, where he gets the packages you send + he gets to buy whatever he wants from the commissary store with the money on his books (he has Shiu send him some hideaway money he stashed every week). But all he really cares about is the packages you send. It's all so personal, every little touch you put into it *thinking ab doing a whole drabble on this lmk bbs's* "look at what my girl sent this time." He'd say to his celly with a smirk as he holds up all the snacks and cute little notes you write.

[mey-rin-is-fabulous]

None of that is lame at all and don't stress too much things get so much better after highschool and what happens in highschool doesn't matter no matter how much they want you to believe it does.

I do not miss highschool drama class at all. Like in grade 10 and 11 it was fine but my last year was awful mostly because my teacher sucked. It was so bad I walked out twice on days we had a supply because we were writing our own play and class was unstructured AF as a result.

Like there wasn't much for drama unless it involved me as far as I know.

The most bullcrap thing to happen was I lost my role for our end of semester play because I walked out.

I told our supply teacher I was going to the bathroom for 10 minutes(which I stuck to), we were playing an improv game and I didn't want to because last time I played this game with three people I wound up standing off to the side(improv isn't my strong suit and I'm really bad at it) I tried to explain why I didn't want to but I had three people all talking at me at the same time and so I left.

Came into class the next day and got told oh by the way we gave your role to Amanda(actual name redacted) no chance to explain my side of what happened. And as a result I wound up getting a role that was all adlibbing not in the script at all because they needed me to do something.

So off I went to bawl because I was alone and no one bothered to speak up for me. And that was basically how my last year went.

Same year I had a grade 9 tell me to act like an adult because I was using my friend as a crutch because I had two sprained ankles. We were on a field trip across the border. Look you try walking on two sprained ankles(tripped on a crack in the sidewalk after falling off a high step) after sitting on a bus for hours after sitting in a concrete stadium for like half an hour after a day of walking and then see how I felt(that's aimed at the grade 9.) And oh my god hearing my teacher say I was walking better once we got back to the school made me incredibly mad on top of me having to wait like an hour for my dad to show up to get me.

My last year of high school probably would have been okay if I didn't have that stupid teacher for the only classes I cared about. Yeah I had issues with my other teacher but that was a result of my own issues.

There was also this one teacher who was friends with the previous drama/music teacher who absolutely hated me.

She got mad at me once because I didn't want to walk around talking to people( I have anxiety and I get claustrophobic) she ran a co-op class and had the students do a career fair type thing and invited other classes to walk around and had people do stupid surveys. I actually had to leave the room and go into the hallway the one year because my claustrophobia kicked in(too many people in too small a room.)

And then there was the time where that teacher took on the role of librarian because our librarian retired I think and we were down there and she was freaking out about how nobody could leave after the bell rang until all the precious chrome books were back and I said something about how we'd all just leave any way and she went on the warpath trying to figure out who said it, she yelled at two other people before she figured out it was me and I got told off by both her and my teacher for setting such a bad example for the younger kids. To this day I still don't regret saying what I did and for my last year I avoided the library like the plague because of her.

Speaking of chrome books I read manga on one back in grade 9 English class, Pandora Hearts to be exact I finished our chapter reading for the day and would go read PH after.

And there was that time that I think my gym class trespassed. It was grade 9 and we were trying to figure out the route for the long distance Terry Fox run and we somehow found our way onto someone's property and they had like decent size boats back there kinda like mini tugboats/fishing boats.

And that time my classmates supposedly found an abandoned and spooky mine have no idea if they were telling the truth.

And there was also that time a friend got in a fight with our principal for a supposed dress code violation because her sleeves had like a hole design or something either way it was bull. Then we got new principals and our dress code was abolished so people can wear whatever within reason.

Cosplay was also legal in our school 2 friends and I did it while most of our school was at the staff vs student hockey game and oh this one girl and her friend got so mad at us because we were being loud and obnoxious in a stairwell meanwhile one of our teachers and the librarian(the retired one loved her) were just like have fun but please try to keep the noise down. And then there was that time I walked through the whole school to my locker during our lunch break with the mey-rin wig on which for some reason can pass for my actual hair despite me being a very obvious brunette.

where do TV shows get this idea that high school is constant drama, nothing even fucking happened to me in high school

[esote-rika]

Could I request Spencer with a really socially awkward reader(gn) who has to meet the team for the first time and just sort ends up hiding behind Spencer?

Feel free to ignore this if you're not up for it :)

Anon, thank you so much for this! I’m sorry it took a little long, but I hope you still enjoy it <3 Cute little drabble of Spencer being the best bf ever.

Contents: Mentions of alcohol, but otherwise, it’s just fluff!!! gn!reader.

Your hands are clammy when he takes them, a clear sign of your discomfort. Immediately, Spencer’s face softens, his features dappled pink and blue from the colorful lights of the bar. Neither of you drink, but his team is celebrating a case they successfully closed, and he’d mentioned it would be a good time to introduce you. The atmosphere is relaxed, after all, inhibitions dulled by alcohol and the knowledge of a job well done. 

For them, at least. You are operating under something entirely different. Nerves. Lots of it.

“You made it.” Spencer says brightly, before he wraps an arm around you and ushers you to their table. His team is all bright, welcoming smiles, and teasing remarks when they see you. You recognize them from the pictures, this group of people he’s come to know as his family. The cheeriest woman, Penelope Garcia walks up and gives you a big hug. Not expecting it, you stand there awkwardly, too busy wondering if you should return the gesture, but by the time you make up your mind, she’s already pulling away. 

Oops. You bite back a wince at your social blunder and manage a smile. 

“Spencer has told me all about you.” You say over the loud, thumping music. 

A chorus of replies. He spends all his time talking about you too, and You two are so cute, and I can’t believe Spence didn’t introduce you to us sooner! Lovely platitudes that you nod at. What exactly do you say to them beyond a thank you? Desperately, you wrack your brain for responses. Be witty, you chide yourself, charming. Make them like you.

But your words fail you in this moment, as they so often do. Small talk seems hollow, perfunctory instead of sincere, so you smile and nod politely as the comments continue around you. The more they go on about how it is to meet you, the more you seem to shrink into Spencer, smiling politely in response. You hope, desperately, that it's enough.

Once the initial round of introductions dies down, Spencer pulls you to a quieter table. The back of your neck is warm from all the attention, and you're worried his team may think you're being too clingy or antisocial. Surprisingly, his team doesn’t comment on it, moving on to get drinks and join the dance floor. Other people may have found it rude to retreat like this, but truthfully, you’re glad for the reprieve. 

Spencer’s hand is warm and heavy on your hip, pulling you tightly to his side. “Are you okay?”

You hum, nodding against his shoulder. “Your team’s nice.” 

“They are,” you feel his lips on your forehead, “But they can be a lot.”

You peak over his shoulder to look at the dance floor. Derek is in the middle of it with a few ladies, while JJ, Emily, and Penelope have their own little dance cluster. “They’re nice.” you repeat, “They just seemed excited.”

He chuckles, “Mhm, that’s because they’ve been wanting to meet you for weeks now.” 

You feel him pull back, and you have to fight back the urge to cling to him. He meets your gaze, brown eyes warm and glittering in the dim light. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too overwhelmed?”

“I’m fine. I’m glad to have met them.”

He smiles, pleased that his reminders for his team had worked. He’d told them of your tendency to be awkward around new people and had asked them to accommodate it when they meet you. He’s just as nervous and eager for your introduction to be nice, but your comfort is of utmost importance to him. 

For a brief moment, he worried it wouldn’t work, but his team is gracious enough (and so excited over the fact that he has a relationship) that they’ve put on their best behavior and backed off immediately once they caught signs of your discomfort. You’re easy enough to read, and they’re highly trained profilers. 

“They already adore you.” he says, nose buried in your hair. 

You laugh, “You sure? I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression.”

“I’m sure.” his lips ghost across your hairline, “You weren’t even that bad. They’re used to so much worse.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, ducking down to press his lips to yours. “Need I remind you that they have to deal with me?”

Even more laughter escapes you, and you’re immediately put at ease, even more so than before. How could you not, when your boyfriend knows exactly what to say? Perhaps not to other people, but he’s so attuned to you and your needs that you just kiss him back in thanks.

[organic-bloodbath]

Mingle - Part 2

Thanos x Reader

Summary: Thanos wants to protect you at all cost and has to choose whether to continue the game or take you back home. Getting to know you better, the answer is simple.

A/N: More angsty than the first part and doesn't follow the show's plot anymore. Thank you so much for all the likes on the first part, i didn't imagine it getting so many notes 🫶🏻 I wasn't sure which way to take this story, but he's 100% obsessed and in love with her.

☆☆☆

You were holding your tray, about to go to your usual spot to eat with your team and following Dae-ho in front of you but you stopped. You looked over Thanos, seeing him by himself.

"I'll see you later," you said to Dae-ho who looked confused. "I'll go sit with Thanos tonight."

"Thanos?" Dae-ho repeated, making sure he heard you correctly. "Why would you-"

You turned around and left, not wanting to answer to any other questions Dae-ho would ask you about your sudden interest to spend time with Thanos. Mostly, because you didn't know what to say.

Why? Because he just saved you a moment ago? You weren't sure if that was the only reason or not, you had to go over to him and figure it out yourself.

When you arrived to the bunk where Thanos was sitting and already eating his food, his eyes lit up.

"Is the invite still open?" you asked awkwardly, afraid that he had been only joking earlier about asking you to join him.

"For you, of course," he said, smiling, and pat the empty space next to him on the mattress. "I saved a seat for you."

You gave him a little smile and sat on that specific spot.

"For a second i thought you had changed your mind," he said, chewing his food.

"Oh, well, i wasn't sure if you truly meant it," you admitted, avoiding his eyes at first. "But then i saw you sitting alone. Why aren't you with your friends anyway?"

"I figured you'd just get uncomfortable with them," he shrugged. "And i wanted to be alone with you, even if just for a moment."

You felt your cheeks turning red. "Why?"

He gently put his hand on your chin and turned your head to look at him.

"I want go get to know you better, pretty flower," he smiled, making you turn even more red and you immediately turned your head away, the nickname making you feel funny inside once again.

"Oh," was the only sound you managed to breathe out.

"You know, from the day one i've tried to approach you but you've been ignoring me quite well," he pointed out. "You could add it on your resume as one of your skills."

"Oh, i mean," you said nervously. "I'm not used to guys trying to get close to me before, so i really didn't think much of it."

"Not used to it?" Thanos asked, acting dramatic and overly shocked, putting his hand against his chest and not believing what he was hearing. "You're that gorgeous and guys haven't gone after you? You're lying."

"Stop it," you chuckled and the smile lingered on your lips longer than before. "Maybe i just can't take a hint very easily."

"Well, tell me something about you?" Thanos asked and thought about something for a while. "Hmm, what's your favorite type of flower?"

"Flower?"

"It's for our future date, i need to make sure i'll get you something you like," he explained. "I don't want to get you roses if you don't like roses."

"Oh, well, i don't really know. Nobody ever got me flowers before," you said, the blush sticking on your cheeks like a glue. "I suppose orchids and lilies are pretty."

"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded.

His words made you feel nice and get butterflies in your stomach, but you really didn't understand what his intentions truly were. You hadn't had many guys to show interest on you before, if any, so you had been used to the fact that you might just stay alone.

You continued your conversation and lost the track of time completely. You asked about his life as a rapper and what his life goals were in the music industry, since that was really the only thing you knew about him outside these games before now talking with him. He asked about your hobbies and in general about your interests - you could sense that he was considering to include some of them to your "date" he had mentioned.

Eventually he changed the subject to the one that you would have prefered to leave alone. The one you hadn't truthfully told even to Dae-ho or Gi-hun yet.

"So, how did you end up here?" Thanos asked. "You know, debts and all."

"Well, i wouldn't want to bother you with that. It's pretty depressing," you said after being quiet for a moment, twirling the rest of your food with your fork. You were a little nervous to open up to him about it now that you were having a nice conversation, him making you even laugh here and there. But for some reason, you had started to become more comfortable around him and able to talk more freely.

"I'd be glad to hear it, if you want to share," Thanos said, encouraging you to tell him, but only if you were comfortable with it.

"Oh, well," you sighed. "The main reason i came here was because my little brother has cancer." You took a deep breath to get the words properly out of your mouth. It was already hard to think about and even harder to talk about it without crying. You tried to say the words as fast as you could, otherwise they would be stuck in your throat. "We don't have money for his treatments, my mom doesn't earn a lot from her work, and if we don't start treating it soon, he will die."

You were looking at your lap, scared to glance back at Thanos. You were feeling your eyes becoming wet and you were afraid you'd start to cry in front of him. He was quiet for a while, speechless. He hadn't been prepared for you having such a heavy reason to be here.

"How old is your brother?" Thanos asked softly.

"He's just 11," you answered and felt tears rising up into your eyes. You hated talking about this because even a single thought of losing your brother broke you. You wiped a tear off your face as soon as it had appeared out of your eye.

"I'm sorry," you chuckled, trying to force yourself to lighten up. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment."

"No, no you didn't ruin anything, it's okay," he assured you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "I'm sorry i made you bring it up."

You buried your face on his shoulder.

"I just want to get back home, i don't care how much money i'll get and if it's enough to cover everything," you mumbled. "I just have to go and take care of my brother."

You stayed like that for a while, Thanos comforting you the best he could. Now, the need to protect you at any cost grew even stronger.

☆☆☆

It was time to vote, whether you'd want to stay and play the games or go home with the money earned by far.

Thanos was having mixed feelings. Personally, he would have of course continued the game and played for more money - the current amount wasn't enough to cover all his debts. One more game, that was what had been going on in Thanos' head.

One more game.

But when he turned to look at you, standing further away from him with your group, your gaze stuck on the floor, looking anxious - he felt something sting and break his heart.

Every day here was a new possibility to die. None of you knew what tomorrow's game was, it was always a total surprise until you started playing it.

What if the game tomorrow would be too hard for you and you wouldn't make it? Thanos couldn't live with himself anymore if he had decided to continue the game and survived, but you lost your life, as would your brother.

Player 230.

Thanos stood in front of the two buttons, gaze jumping between them. Before getting to know you, his choice would have been simple. But now?

"Player 230," the pink guard in front of Thanos said, he hadn't realised how long he had been standing there doing nothing. "Please make your choice."

Eventually, against all the odds, Thanos pressed the red button, giving one more point to the X team. He glanced towards Nam-gyu who looked at Thanos like he couldn't believe his eyes what he was seeing. Thanos ignored him and walked to the red side, appearing next to you.

"Told you i'll get you home, pretty flower," Thanos whispered to you.

You looked at him like you were sure you were seeing things. Being here had finally made you to hallucinate. Surely he hadn't chosen to go home only because of you, he couldn't be that attached to you already.

"But you still needed a lot more money," you pointed out, furrowing your eyebrows. You would have understood if he wanted to and chose to stay. You weren't a burden he had to bear.

"And i'll find a way to pay my debts on my own," Thanos answered.

The waiting felt like it took forever. There weren't that many players left anymore, but it felt like everything was happening twice slower than in reality.

Finally, after the last player had voted, you looked at the scores and you felt like your entire world was slowing down even more and you weren't able to get air into your lungs.

The situation was 50-51. The 'O' team won yet again. You wanted to break down and cry, right then and there. When you had seen Thanos approaching you with the red patch on his jacket, somehow you were sure that this time you were going home, as if the decision was depending purely on him.

If just two more people would have voted for X, you'd be on your way home. But no, you had to stay for another game.

"I'm sorry," Thanos said and held your hand, looking genuinely concerned. "I really am."

"It's fine," was all you said until you walked back to your bunk without sparing a single glance at anyone else.

☆☆☆

Laying on your bed on your side you weren't able to sleep. You only stared ahead of you, feeling hopeless. You wanted out of this place so badly and the voting tonight had given you way too much false hope that this could actually be over soon, just to be completely crushed.

You sat up and wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm yourself so you'd be able to sleep atleast a little bit.

You were thinking about your little brother. He deserved so much more, had his entire life ahead of him. If you were able to take his cancer to you, you would take it any day and let him live. What if he had passed away during your stay here? What if you'd go back home and meet only your mother who had been crying for days and refused to eat, sleep or do anything?

You had to bite your lip to keep the sobs inside you, afraid you'd wake up the people sleeping near you.

"Can't sleep huh?" Thanos whispered, you didn't look at him. You had seen him approaching from the corner of your eye, even though you hadn't fully turned to look at him. "Listen," he continued and took your hand in his. "I'm going to make sure you'll get out of here, okay?"

"And how are you going to do that?" you scoffed, accidentally letting out a single sob. "You don't even know the next game."

He sat down on the bed with you and took your hand in his. He didn't know how he could comfort you.

"I don't, but i'll do whatever i can to get you home," he said and tried to give you a comforting smile. "I'll protect you, no matter what, and when the votings come, i'm absolutely sure that we'll get to leave this place."

"What are you going to do? Cheat the system?"

"If i have to," he smirked. He hesitated for a second until lifted his hand to wipe the remaining tears off your cheek.

☆☆☆

It was time for the next game. You arrived into a room which had four shapes on one of the walls.

The same symbols as in playing cards.

♤♡◇♧

The game was called Dalgona. It was exactly the same game Gi-hun had talked to you about in the beginning when he had thought Dalgona must be the second game like three years ago. Only the shapes had now changed.

The reason why they had suddenly brought dalgona back to this year was unclear to you. Unclear to everybody. By now everyone had thought that only the first game was the same and they had changed the rest of them to new ones.

Players were commanded to line up in front of one of the shapes, chosen by their own will. Gi-hun immediately told you to choose the diamond, it would be the easiest one.

Thanos let you go for the diamond, but he chose the heart, even though you insisted that he'd take the diamond too.

"Come on, it's not that much harder, i'll be fine," he assured you with a smile, as if it wasn't a big deal.

If you were going to die just because you accidentally cracked a wrong piece of a cookie off, that would be super embarrassing to explain in a funeral. Although, dying here you wouldn't even get a funeral.

You sat down on the floor, legs crossed, and the time started running down, one second at a time. You took the needle in your shaky hands and carefully started carving the lines of the shape, afraid to press too hard and crack the cookie in half any minute.

One thing you were afraid as well was when someone would be shot, your hand would accidentally slip due to the loud noise and make you fail too.

Thanos took quick glances at you once in a while, to make sure you were still sitting there. His hands were sweating and his heart beating fast.

The only sounds during the game were only the gunshots and the voice announcing which players had just been eliminated. You flinched each time, even though you had tried to prepare yourself for that.

This wasn't a game where Thanos would be able to help you and he hated it. On the first game, he had protected you by running in front of you. On the second game, you had other players in your group to help you. On the third game, he had saved you by taking you to a room with him when you had been left all alone.

Now, you were all on your own, he wasn't able to say a single word for you, you all had to stay quiet and only concentrate on your own task. He didn't think you were weak, not at all, he just needed to be there as a backup plan, ready to catch and save you if something went wrong.

Thanos was afraid he'd crack the cookie any second. If he was to die now, there would be one person less to vote for X and get you back home, though he couldn't know how many people from the blue side would be killed today.

He wasn't sure when had been the moment when he had decided that protecting you had become his number one priority. It just naturally came to him.

On the distance, Thanos saw one player to use a lighter to heat up the needle and then poke the cookie. By the looks of her face, she was subtly looking around her to see if the guards were watching her. He only had the pills inside his cross and they weren't much of a help for him right now.

Thanos was glad that you had chosen the easiest shape and not spades or clubs. He did believe in you and was sure to see you alive on the other side.

His heart stopped when he cracked a small piece off from the tip of the heart when he had completed the task. It was only a very tiny piece and the cookie still looked like a complete heart, but he didn't know how detailed and harsh the system was here. Thanos saw a guard approaching him and showed the heart to him, hiding the slightly broken tip with his finger as he held it up.

Pass.

Thanos let out a breath of relief, being able to breathe again properly. He didn't know why, but that was one of the most stressful games by far.

You were still carving yours as Thanos walked outside, but you weren't far behind. Just barely 20 seconds later, you had finished your task as well.

Pass.

☆☆☆

"Señorita, excuse me," Thanos said, making you stop before you managed to go and talk to Dae-ho, who had finished the challenge before you. Thanos was standing closer than you had expected, though he had seen you first.

"Yes, señor?" you said back sarcastically.

"I have a gift for you," he smiled.

"A gift?"

"I'll give you my heart if you'll let me have yours, after this is all over," he said, genuine kindness in his eyes.

"What are you on about?" That was such a cheesy and odd line to say out of nowhere, but it did make your heart skip a beat.

"When we get home tomorrow, i'll take you out soon, after you've seen your brother."

"How are you so sure we'll get home? People might vote to stay."

"Have a little bit hope, pretty flower."

He took your hand in his, you didn't resist.

"Keep this safe for me, okay?" he said and put something in your hand, closing your fist around it. Then, he left without another word.

You opened your hand, seeing the heart he had carved out from the cookie laying on your palm.

☆☆☆

The fourth game had eliminated only 29 players in total, so there was 72 left.

Thanos tried to count the players how many of them had blue patches and red patches on their jackets, but he lost count and wasn't sure if he had counted some people twice or not at all.

Thanos went to the bathroom where he found his former group.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," Nam-gyu slowly said and crossed his arms on his chest. He had three other guys around him, one of them Min-su. "Coming back to us after betraying us like that? I think not."

He stepped closer to Thanos.

"Sorry to say, but i don't think you're welcome anymore."

"I don't give a shit about you, Nam-su," Thanos said and didn't care to hear him trying to correct Thanos for saying his name wrong again. "Tonight, you better all vote for X or tomorrow i may not be in as good mood as right now, seeing you," Thanos said loudly and then glanced at Min-su, who still had the blue patch on his jacket. Thanos walked towards him and trapped him between himself and a wall. Thanos tried to change the expression on his face to more kind and sweet. "You'll do that for me, right Min-su?"

Thanos gave him a sweet smile, but Min-su hesitated without a word, both Nam-gyu and Thanos looking at him. Min-su wasn't entirely sure which side was safer for him to choose.

"What's up with you anyway? Don't tell me that woman has gotten into your head this badly. I'm not going home yet when there's more money to be earned."

"You can earn your money elsewhere," Thanos stated, gritting his teeth.

"Seriously, dude. I get that she's hot but-"

"One more word and you'll lose a tooth," Thanos threatened, pointing at him with his finger.

To be honest, Thanos wasn't sure how he had fallen so hard for you in such a little time. He had never been so smitten about a woman before, but there was something different about you, and he needed to know you better, no matter what he had to do to achieve it.

☆☆☆

The votings came and this time, it was easier for him to press X than last time. The money he had earned by far wasn't enough for his debts, but he'd figure it out how to get the rest when you had managed to get out of here.

Both of you had now voted and were only waiting for the result. Thanos glanced at you and you looked like you were going to be sick. He took your hand in his, making you jump a little bit for the sudden touch, but you let your fingers wrap between his. He gave you a comforting squeeze.

Internally, Thanos felt terrified. What if he had only given you false promises and you'd have to stay for the fifth game again? You were so broken yesterday that he didn't think he'd be able to see the same look on your face again this fast. You would definitely lose any trust you still might have for his words, not believe anything he would say to you anymore.

You hid your eyes with your left hand, not wanting to watch how the scores were changing and how much X was losing to O.

Then, all the votes were in and for a moment Thanos' heart stopped by looking at the score.

37-35.

"Y/N," Thanos whispered, finally using your real name and not only the nickname he had chosen, and brushed your left hand as a sign to let it drop from your face. "You can look now."

When you saw the scores on the broad, your knees felt so weak that you had to cling on Thanos' jacket not to fall on the floor. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and you broke down in tears.

"Oh my god," you laughed between the tears. "Thanos. Oh my god."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, startling Thanos at first how you pressed your body against his, but he wrapped his arms around you securely. Surprisingly, a hint of red was rising on his cheeks, along with a smile.

"I can go back home," you said against his jacket.

You pulled back and without thinking, you pressed a light kiss on Thanos' cheek.

"Thank you."

"So," Thanos lingered and took your hands in his. "I'll pick you up on Saturday?"

You bit your lip. "Okay."

☆☆☆

A/N: I'm not sure what i think about this compared to the first part, but i hope you liked it 🫶🏻

Tags:

@justsisse

@septywitch

[immoral-stranger]

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 // 𝐋𝐍𝟒

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟏. 🍓 “You’ve never done me wrong, except for that one time we don’t talk about.” – Boygenius, True Blue.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: none? maybe they're a little horny? this shit is too sweet. it'll give you cavities. oh and you need to have read linger beforehand to understand the dynamic and characters in this.

A/N: my babies Lando and Bunny make a comeback. takes place like a year after the original fic. please tell me what you think ♡

Summer break for Lando usually consisted of long days on a beach somewhere warm. Yachts, beach clubs, and sand between his toes. After dusk, his summer break consisted of long nights in the VIP section at some club. House music, sweaty bodies, and alcohol. 

Getting up at 8 in the morning to take a casual jog around a suburban area in England wouldn’t have been on his agenda if you’d had asked him a year ago when he was painfully single. 

Now, there was no place he’d rather be. Now, summer was different. It was softer, simpler, an, to his complete and utter surprise, infinitely better.

Because you didn’t like Ibiza, or Saint Tropez, or even Monaco. You would compromise and say that it was fine at times, but Lando could see through you like glass. You tolerated the extravagance, but it never made you light up in the same way being at home did. Would it have been easier if you liked the country he lived in? Sure, but it wasn’t like Lando hated England. With a certain disconnect, he actually loved the place. He grew up there. His family was there. You were there. 

So, as much as his phone pinged with Instagram stories of his friends posing behind DJ booths or lounging on sunbeds, he didn’t envy them. He couldn’t complain. 

Not when he was jogging through the quiet streets of your neighbourhood, the soft morning breeze brushing against his skin, the world still drowsy with sleep.

Not when he knew what was waiting for him when he got back—what he would find as he ran up the pathway to your childhood home, up the stairs, and behind the door with a Moulin Rouge poster blu-tacked to it.

The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he slowed to a walk, approaching the house that had, over time, started to feel more like home than his own place. He jogged up the front steps, slipping inside, already anticipating the comfort of warm, sleepy domesticity that awaited him upstairs.

But first, a shower. He wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t crawl into bed with you, still sticky from his run. And he made tea—you liked waking up to tea.

The old wooden floors creaked as he entered your bedroom. He felt himself smiling before he could even take in the full sight of you. You were sat on the bed, a notebook in your lap as you scribbled down something, chewing on your bottom lip in concentration. He loved your bedroom. It warmed his heart over and over again to step into an atmosphere that was you and only you. A white, sheer canopy hung over your bed, twinkling even in the bright summer morning from the fairy lights tangled up in it. 

He recognised the t-shirt you were wearing as one that had once been his, but he didn’t complain. How could he? Beneath it, just visible, were underwear he’d given you as a joke—because buying you expensive lingerie was pointless when your favourite style was always cheeky boy shorts. These, in particular, were innocent enough in white cotton—except for the bold, hot pink Playboy bunny logos scattered across them. 

Lando had developed a habit of getting you things with bunnies on them, and you had developed a habit of wearing them just to humour him.

“Morning, Bun-Bun.” 

Your head lifted, eyes blinking away the haze of deep focus. You still looked newly awakened. He could see the way your mind slowly reeled itself back from wherever it had wandered as you took in the sight of him, freshly showered and shirtless in your doorway.

“Oh, you made tea?” Your voice was soft as you reached for one of the mugs he was carrying, fingers curling around the warmth. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

Lando grinned, climbing onto the bed beside you. He settled against the headboard, careful not to spill his own tea as he stretched his legs out beneath the covers. “Only daily.” 

He had never been one to crave stillness before—his life had always been a constant blur, and he liked it that way. But here, in your childhood bedroom, wrapped in soft edges and familiar scents, he felt something rare; he felt safe. It was almost like make-believe, the canopy overhead and your floral seersucker bedsheets making him feel as if he’d tumbled into a fairytale, Alice in Wonderland-style. And for once, he wasn’t desperate to leave.

You looked over at him as you took a long sip of your tea. Wordlessly, he took your mug when you were done, placing it on the nightstand together with his own. Your gaze flickered down to his bare chest, lingering for half a second too long before your brows lifted. 

“You should really put a shirt on,” you remarked. 

Lando’s laughter was low and unbothered. “We’re alone in this house.” 

“What if my dad comes home? Or Matteo decides to get a ride home with one of his friends?” 

Lando exhaled through his nose, amused. You always found things to question. Even the littlest things. Or things that didn’t even make sense half the time. He was lucky he liked hearing your voice so much. If he had once believed you to be shy and reserved, he now knew the opposite. 

“Your dad is still in Manchester for work, which is fourhours away. And need I remind you that Matteo asked for us to pick him up from his sleepover at one o’clock? It’s only nine,” he explained, smiling. “Admit it, you just don’t want to see me shirtless because it’s distracting.” 

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you tucked your legs beneath you, pulling your notebook closer. “Okay, yeah. I really need to finish this.” 

If you hadn’t been so intent on finishing what you were writing, and if Lando hadn’t revelled in the tranquillity of the morning, he would have already pinned you beneath him, taking you—devouring you—right there under the twinkling canopy. No hesitation. No shame. Just want. Just need.

But it could wait. All you had was time with each other. That was a beautiful thing in and of itself. 

Lando shifted, inching closer, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder as he peered down at your scrawled-out notes. The faint scratch of your pen against paper filled the comfortable silence. He couldn’t really see what words you were writing down, but he knew why you were writing and that it was becoming slightly urgent to finish it.

“I still can’t believe they’re making us do this,” Lando groaned after a moment. “Holding a speech at their wedding? Couldn’t they have asked Oscar’s sisters? Or Jasmine’s overly excited mother?” 

“They wanted one simple, nice, and kind speech,” you reminded him. “Oscar’s sisters would roast him into oblivion, and Jasmine’s mother would never stop crying. You know this as much as they do.” 

Lando huffed. “But still, Bunny… I’m too awkward.” 

“Which is why we’re doing it together. You’re lucky I’m such a good actor.” 

“That you are.”

Lando watched as you scribbled down another note, the glimmer of determination in your eyes something he could never get enough of. 

A simple, late summer wedding in the English countryside. Just mere weeks away, and you and Lando were toastmasters. He hadn’t even known that was a thing before Jasmine had run him over with wedding preparations. You were, of course, also her maid of honour. Lando had already seen the dress she had picked out for you, and while the wedding was an exciting thing overall, he really couldn’t wait to see you all dolled up in a gown. 

“Have you written anything yourself?” you asked him, looking up from your notebook. 

Picking up his phone, Lando scrolled through his notes, looking for the right one. “I, uhm… I wrote down a little joke about the first time he introduced me to Jasmine and how she said she would hang me by my underwear from a flagpole outside the MTC if I ever crashed into him.” 

“Sounds like her,” you laughed, leaning over to see his screen, practically falling over him in the process, making a mess of the ruffled sheets between you. “Wait, you’re writing their wedding speech in your notes app?” 

Lando didn’t understand what was so wrong about it. He would have to memorise it anyway. Or, at least, he thought so. Standing there, in front of an entire wedding reception, with a cue card of sorts would feel insincere. 

“You’re writing your part in a Hello Kitty notebook with a glitter gel pen,” he pointed out, picking up your notebook, looking at your sparkly pink handwriting. 

He found even the smallest things about you completely adorable.

“It’s still more thoughtful than using an iPhone,” you shot back, grinning.

Lando draped his arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer until you were nestled against him, your head resting softly on his bare chest. He glanced down at what you'd written, a smile tugging at his lips as he read about Oscar and Jasmine's first date—one you'd helped plan. It had gone horribly wrong when Oscar got lost on public transport and showed up 40 minutes late. A 16-year-old Jasmine had called you, crying, just as Oscar arrived, catching her mid-rant, snot running from her nose. From that moment on, Oscar had been completely soft for her—and probably never showed up late again.

“I can’t believe those two are getting married. They are younger than I am,” Lando heard himself say, almost sighing at the realisation.

“Mhm, because you’re so old,” you joked, your palm hitting his chest lightly. 

The two-year age gap between you and him didn’t seem like much. But seeing how Jasmine and Oscar, who were your exact age, were already so far ahead in their relationship sparked an undeniable sense of dread in him about ageing. He felt both ancient and a little behind.

“It makes sense, though. They’ve been dating since they were, what, sixteen?”

You nodded. He felt your hair as it moved up and down against his skin. “My parents had me and got married by twenty-two. It’s not that uncommon.” 

Lando’s brow furrowed. “You think Jasmine’s pregnant?” 

“That’s not at all what I said.” 

He looked down at you, catching the sheepish smile on your face. It was probably for the best. He couldn’t handle someone younger than him having kids. Especially when those kids would probably call him uncle in the future. That felt backwards. His own nieces were enough to get the cogwheels turning in his head about that he should probably start thinking about having a family of his own. 

A moment of quiet followed, the weight of his next question pressing before he even asked it. The look on his face made it clear he had something serious to say, his fingers drumming absentmindedly against the bedsheet as he gathered his thoughts.

“Do you ever think about marriage yourself?” he wondered softly. 

Your breath caught slightly at the question, eyes flickering to him as you searched for his intent. “To you? Or in general?” 

Lando huffed a small, amused laugh, but there was a nervous edge to it. “I’d hope it be with me.” 

“Sometimes,” you admitted. Your voice was vulnerable, but there was no hesitation. “I think we could make it work.” 

Lando’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, one that made his dimples dip into his cheeks. “I want Matteo as ring bearer,” he mused, his tone lighter now, “and we’re getting revenge on Jasmine and Oscar by making them do a long-ass speech. Maybe a choreographed dance.”

You snorted. “Mhm, and what would that speech be about?” 

“Definitely how you got a nosebleed the first time I tried to kiss you.” His grin widened as he glanced at you, eyes alight with mischief. “Or how they heard us have sex through the walls of that Italian villa.” 

Your cheeks burnt at the memory, heat crawling up your neck. “Lando!” you groaned, shoving at his arm as he burst into laughter, the sound filling the space with just as much light as the sun filtering through lace curtains.

He nudged his knee against yours beneath the sheets, his laughter softening into something more affectionate. “Maybe they’ll just roast me into oblivion, because they like you more than they like me.” 

“That’s not true,” you murmured, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “I don’t think they have many bad things to say about you.”

“I’ve been an idiot so many times.” 

“Nuh-uh.” You shook your head firmly. “You’ve never done me wrong… except for that one time we don’t talk about.” 

Lando blinked, confused. “Wait, what? I don’t know what moment your talking about.” 

He was forgetful and sometimes a little ignorant. In reality, he probably thought he’d done you wrong about a million different times. But he couldn’t think of a single defining moment that you would’ve deemed as the most fragile in your relationship.

“Was it when I forgot your birthday?” he guessed. 

“You’ve never forgotten my birthday?” you said, almost like a question, as a crease formed between your brows. 

“Oh, you didn’t realise? Our weekend to New York that was totally planned and not at all because Jasmine called me the night before your birthday to ask what I had gotten you?” Lando couldn’t help but let out a little pathetic laugh. 

In his defence, no one had mentioned that it was your birthday to him. And he also hadn’t thought about asking or remembering the date. He was lucky to have had time off when it did happen. One private jet and a hotel stay later, you’d had a perfect birthday in New York City, seeing a Broadway show for the first time. 

“I didn’t know about that!” you exclaimed, a look of mock horror painted on your face. “But no matter what, I still had a lovely time there, so I would never say that was a wrongdoing from your side.” 

“I guess Jasmine is better at keeping secrets than I thought,” Lando mumbled to himself, still thinking about what you could be thinking of. “Was it when I accidentally stood Matteo up? You cried and yelled at me because of that.” 

That was the first and only time you’d yelled at him out of anger. Out of sadness or anxiety, you’d done it multiple times before. But you weren’t the angry type. So when it slipped his mind that he should’ve taken Matteo to an England football game instead of Max, you had uncharacteristically lashed out on him. It wasn’t necessarily because of the game, but because of the principle of letting down an 11-year-old little boy.

“I didn’t yell,” you corrected him. 

“No, you did.” Lando smiled gently. “I deserved it, though. You were being protective of your baby brother, and I was being a muppet for not remembering what I’d promised him.” 

“It’s still not what I had in mind,” you said, shaking your head.

“Okay, you’ve stumped me. What are you talking about?” 

You bit your lip, watching him carefully before whispering,“After Brazil last year.” His face softened at the realisation. “You were awake for like two days straight and refused to speak to anyone.” 

Lando exhaled through his nose, gaze flickering down, hands fidgeting now. He was letting you continue, although he found the words difficult to hear. 

“We never really talked that through,” you continued, meeting his gaze. “And you feeling so bad and not letting me help you made me feel like the worst girlfriend in the world.” 

His hand found yours beneath the sheets, thumb stroking over your knuckles in silent apology.

“And I’ll always understand that your job is nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’ll never blame you for being distant at times or closed off because of it.” You squeezed his hand gently, grounding him. “But for two days straight? Yeah, do that again and… I’ll be the one to hang you from a flagpole.”

A breath of laughter escaped him, but it was almost out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Bun-Bun.” 

“I know you are,” you murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to his shoulder, lingering just long enough for him to feel the warmth of your lips against his skin.

A beat passed before Lando cleared his throat, picking up your notebook to stare at the messy handwriting again. “What do I get if I finish this fucking speech?” 

You smirked. “Naked cuddles?” 

“Sold.” 

“Do I not get anything? I feel like I’ve written most of it anyway,” you teased, quirking a brow at him.

Lando studied you for a moment, his lips twitching. “I think your hopeless romantic ass secretly adores doing this for them.” He kissed your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “But sure, I can give you a reward,” he added, pressing another quick kiss just below your ear.

A third kiss was placed on your neck, and a fourth on your collarbone. You felt the wetness from his lips as he started to gently suck on your delicate skin, his hand travelling under your shirt to cup your breast in his open palm. 

“Can I play with it soft?” you whispered under your breath, swallowing down a moan. 

Lando groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back against the pillow as he momentarily stopped touching you, acting appalled.

“Anything but that, Bunny. Anything but that.” 

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think ♡

౨ৎ [ main masterlist . taglist . other love letters ]

Taglist: @koko-mei @anamiad00msday @lucyysthings @yelenam5 @firefirevampire @alexxavicry @emails-i-can-send @freyathehuntress @supergraphicgirl81 @irisesinthegarden

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you fall, i will catch you

for @steddielovemonth day 2 using Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

rated t | 855 words | no cw | tags: high school, prom, slow dance, flirting, open ending but assumed getting together

🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩💃🕺🪩

Prom is stupid.

Steve didn’t even want to come. He didn’t have a date and nothing is more embarrassing than showing up to prom alone. Even the nerds come as a group, dancing and laughing together.

His mom made an appointment for his suit fitting and he couldn’t really explain to her that there was no need. She still thinks he and Nancy are on track to be married when Nancy graduates high school. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he’ll probably die alone.

Okay, that’s a little dramatic. He’s probably not gonna die alone.

But he may die unhappy, and that’s worse.

Most of the music hasn’t been terrible so far, at least. Only one slow song played and no one seemed interested in dancing to it.

Steve’s a fucking wallflower at his own prom. He never saw this coming.

He figures he could probably escape within the next few songs, no one would even notice his absence. He makes a mental plan to wait until one of the parent chaperones walks back to the other side of the room.

Then he’s off.

He manages to escape to the hall behind the gym, the one that leads to the auditorium and drama class, not the main building of the school. No one should be back here. It’s the perfect escape route.

“Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve is trying to escape prom,” a voice says from the end of the hall. The music from the gym is echoing in here, but the voice is much louder. It’s familiar, too. “Miss Wheeler too busy with Byers to dance?”

It’s Munson. Steve sighs.

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my senior prom, too! Or should those of us not graduating not be allowed?” Eddie walks closer and Steve sees that he’s actually dressed up. It’s not a designer suit like he’s been forced into, but it’s nice. Eddie looks…nice.

“Wait,” Steve registers what he actually said. “Not graduating?”

“Yep. Apparently quadratic formulas are crucial to my development and I cannot enter society until I understand them.” Eddie kicks his foot across the tile, leaving a scuff mark from shoes that have probably been waxed beyond necessity. “And I guess dissecting a frog and turning in homework may have helped.”

“But aren’t you pretty smart?” Steve thought he was one of those dungeon dweebs like Dustin. Dustin’s the smartest person he knows, without a doubt, kid or not. He thought all the nerds who play that game were like that.

“Sure, I’m smart enough,” Eddie scoffs. “But I don’t play by their rules. I forget to do homework. I argue.”

“But if you know the stuff, they can’t fail you.”

“Ah, but they can. I don’t have the Harrington name to convince them to change a D to a C. It’s all good. Everyone expected it.”

Steve’s brows furrow, forehead creasing as he thinks about how many things people expected of him that won’t happen.

“Just because people expect it doesn’t mean you have to give it to them,” he says.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he seems shocked by Steve’s words. But the shock wears off quickly. Steve wonders if he imagined it.

“Right you are! Very wise words from the king,” Eddie bows dramatically.

Steve laughs.

Eddie glances up, tense until he realizes Steve’s not laughing at him, just at the entertainment. He stands straight and holds out his hand.

“I do believe such wise words should be repaid with a dance,” Eddie puts on a fake British accent, nose pointed to the sky, smirk playing on his lips.

Steve thinks this must be what it’s like to be charmed by someone.

“A dance?” Steve asks. “Here? With me?”

“It would be my honor,” Eddie loses the accent and turns his head back down so he’s looking right at Steve’s eyes. “Miss Lauper wrote this song just for us, after all.”

Steve’s confusion grows until he hears the song coming from the gym. He can only imagine how awkward it must be in the gym while some couples slow dance with chaperones watching their every breath. He reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand.

“The honor is mine, sir Munson,” Steve tries for an accent like Eddie had previously, but it falls flat.

Eddie pulls him close, but hesitates before he puts an arm around his waist. Steve feels breathless all of a sudden, like they’ve rocketed into space and he forgot one of those astronaut suits. He nods, giving permission for Eddie to take the lead.

When Eddie pulls him closer, they’re almost flush against each other.

Steve’s heart is racing.

“I didn’t know you were weird,” Eddie admits quietly. It sounds a lot like admiration. He’s swaying them back and forth gently, and Steve finds it’s easy to lose track of everything but the way Eddie’s hands rest on his body. “It’s nice to see you, Steve.”

It’s a lot more than what it sounds like.

As Cyndi Lauper plays, Steve wonders if this is how his prom was always meant to be spent: in Eddie Munson’s arms, falling.

[darqx]

Another BP/HH/Gen answer dump as usual starting with BP and then moving into the other two \o/

All demons age about the same rate as humans (although with earlier milestones as babies) UNTIL they hit their 30s-40s after which aging slows down drastically 🙂‍↕️

Izm chasing you down to get .D back like

🤔 You guys sometimes really make me think about things I don't often have to think about LOL. I'm just gonna do the gang this time so off the top of my head:

Izm and .D are often eating sushi in my drawings and since I'm pretty sure Izm is mainly the one buying, sushi is his fave. He'll eat any type but he prefers the raw fish ones.

Whilst .D also likes sushi, it's not his fave dish. His fave dish is pasta in a red sauce (like Sugo or Arrabiata) for some reason. Nostalgia maybe?

Zeke is a meat and potatoes kind of guy, so, a nice juicy sirloin with mushroom sauce and a side of roast potatoes and veggies. (BP!Zeke is similar but he really likes pork/bacon particularly, so a pork roast for him probably).

Wei Ren's comfort foods are chicken congee, and seafood steamboat/hot pot.

Marcus' fave is his mom's chicken casserole.

Oh I'm glad (and thank you very much)! I hope you get lots of inspiration and can create a lot of things :D

Hm, that's a good question! I think, for doodling purposes, my fave is Rire mainly because Rire always looks more or less completed in black and white. My other two faves are .D and Izm - .D is a good exercise in subtle expressions whereas Izm is the complete opposite (esp with BP!Izm with that mouth).

Yes. I mean, I'd prefer you be at least 15 for those two things only cos if i had to age rate them they could be considered M or MA15+.

Hullo! The short answer is that there are also "not normal" skin tones, it depends on the demon species :)

The rest of society is pretty standard so yes there are charlatans in the world of BP lol. HOWEVER, no one would pretend to be a BP for three distinct reasons:

You need to be sanctioned to be a BP (ie they have abilities that normal people do not, like being able to perform exorcisms.)

There is no profit to be had as BPs generally don't get paid (all their living expenses are generally covered by their religion's HQ).

It's dangerous work. You'd have better luck being a bank robber.

Desmond is def a club music kind of guy XD EDMs, techno, trance, hardstyle, house, whatever - the kind of stuff you jump energetically up and down to at a club/concert/rave, he'll listen to it.

Not yet for BP (soon...🙏🏻). HH wasn't really a comic series so much as a bunch of somewhat random one shots I did for fun lol.

^ you guys :d

I don't put my pronouns anywhere partly because it is lowkey amusing for me to see how people perceive me online. It doesn't really matter to me, so go with your best guess lol.

You would be surprised at how much time those two hobbies can take up outside of work |D; I also like doing puzzle games (like Quordle etc), coding, going for walks/bike riding, making slightly odd food combos in normal recipes and freaking out my friends on Discord with them, and watching horror/disaster films and playthroughs of horror games.

Maybe one day I would, but not at this particular time, sorry!

Thanks for asking as this is a bit of a grey type area! Personally, I think that as long as this is purely for your own use and you aren't going to on-sell it in any way...then it should be ok. I'm going to categorise something like this as somewhat similar to say...people printing out my art to stick to their wall type thing. Of course, if you ended up buying a bunch and then thought oh i have so many extra I'll sell them to whoever wants them - that would be a no no.

In what capacity lol if there's something I've learned from real life it's never agree or disagree to anything without knowing specifics. Eg if you would like to use my art as a PFP on tumblr then you can if you credit it, but if you want to use my art as a face claim for your own charac then i would have to say no, etc.

That makes two of us as i am not familiar with the twisted wonderland universe :P

.D: Diasomnia

Izm: Pomefiore

Wei Ren: Ignihyde

Zeke: Savanaclaw

Marcus: Diasomnia

I never really specified one so my friends and I have been calling it the fictional city of Hedone lol.

I haven't given up on HH, i just dont draw it nearly as much since i'm focussing on developing BP :) Anyway HH wasn't seriously planned to be a comic or anything (though technically...it does have a very loose storyline that I've alluded to in some drawings |D ) so it's something I can just jump back into and doodle whenever i feel like.

This was from a while back

It's pretty straightforward HH is a slice of life 'verse where my main characs are in an all boy's boarding school and Rire is the headmaster. It focuses on the boys shenanigans though so if you specifically like Rire you will be disappointed as he's barely in it.

I cut off this post cos I dont think the stuff in it should be shared with other random people even though anon is on anon. If this is you anon i hope you are doing well and i would genuinely encourage you to talk to someone about certain things (like a therapist maybe).

[bloatedandalone04]

Only You

Summary: You and Rafe drive each other crazy in every way possible, and whenever you get a little too mouthy, he has no problem putting you back in your place.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, toxic rafe, toxic relationship tbh, swearing, spanking, name calling, dirty talk, kinda cruel rafe, but he still loves you, size difference, so ig size kink, possessive rafe, back door touching, bc rafe is an ass man and i will die on that hill.

Rafe was watching you storm around his room, his arms crossed as a smirk formed on his lips. You had once again threatened to break up with him over yet another dumb fucking reason, and he wasn’t having it. He’d let you have it, though. But only for a little bit.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” you muttered as you pulled apart his bed in search of your phone. 

Your phone that Rafe had hidden in his back pocket. 

The speakers on his dresser were blaring out loud music, but he still heard you as clear as day. “I know, baby,” he cooed, and his smirk grew when you let out an annoyed scoff.

Your dress swayed with you as you looked around his room for your phone, your brows drawn together in a way that made a cute crease form on your forehead. You were so damn cute and sweet looking, even though you were acting like a spoiled brat at the moment. 

“Are you gonna calm down?” Rafe asked, leaning back against his door as he blocked the only exit of his room. “Or do I need to bend you over and make you calm down?” he added, knowing the effect his words have on you. 

Really, all he wanted to do was strip you bare, eat your sweet, addictive pussy, make you cum on his tongue, then fuck you from behind, but you were acting up like always.  

You huffed, tossing his pillows back onto his unmade bed before beginning to look through the various clothing he had on the floor. “I’m not going to calm down,” you answered, standing back up straight once you realized that your phone wasn’t under any of his clothes. “Where the fuck is it? I know you have it. Or you fucking hid it from me. Where is it, Rafe?” 

Rafe smirked at you as he watched you place your hands on your hips, and it only grew when you pressed your thighs together after not so subtly looking him up and down. 

“I want it, because I’m leaving,” you say, but your voice didn’t sound as convincing as you had hoped it would. “I’m serious. I’m leaving.”

Rafe raised a brow at your threat, a smug grin forming on his lips as he took a step towards you. “Oh really? Without your precious phone?” he mocked, reaching out to grab your chin and tilt your head up to meet his intense stare. “Listen, princess, you’re not going anywhere until we settle this.” 

You glared up at him, but it only further fueled his desire to tame your bratty attitude even more. To show you that you couldn’t live without him, like he couldn’t live without you. 

“And I don’t think you want to leave me anyway,” he continued, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip as he towered over you. “You and I both know how much you fucking love being mine.”

You cursed under your breath, your eyes narrowed as you glared harder at him, but as much as you tried to be intimidating or powerful, you both knew you were only playing it up. “I can’t stand you sometimes,” you mutter, reaching up to fist his shirt in your hands as you move closer to him. “I think I’d fucking hate you if I wasn’t already so fucking in love with you.” 

Then you were pulling him down by his shirt as you leaned up halfway, your lips meeting in a deep, messy and hard kiss. Rafe grunted against your lips, his hands immediately going to your ass. He squeezed it before lifting you up against his body, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist as he walked over to his bed.

He broke the kiss as he tossed you down onto the sheets, his eyes dark and needy as he reached into his pocket and pulled out your phone before he dropped it onto the floor. One of his shirts saved it from being broken as he moved to crawl on top of you, his hardness pressing against your belly as he reached down to grab your wrists. “You’re such a pain in the ass,” he muttered, pinning your arms above your head. “But I love it. I fucking love everything about you, even when you’re driving me insane.”

He leaned down and kissed you a few more times, reveling in the soft whines you let out, before he pulled away and flipped you onto your stomach, yanking your dress up around your hips. He teased the waistline of your panties before pulling them down your thighs, revealing just how wet you’d gotten for him during your fight. 

“Let’s see if I can get you to use that pretty mouth of yours in a better way,” he rasped, his rough fingers digging into your thighs as he spread them wider, exposing your wet pussy to his hungry eyes. 

Rafe dropped to his knees on the floor behind you, his lips pressing soft kisses along the dip in your back before he moved lower. He leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, and a low groan left the back of his throat at your taste. 

He fucking loved going down on you, loved how sweet you tasted on his tongue. He loved kissing you, licking you and touching you all over, and coaxing those pretty sounds from your mouth. 

Rafe let go of your thighs, instead letting his hands palm your ass again before he spread your soft cheeks and moaned at the sight of your puckered rosebud. “Fuck, look at you,” he mumbled, dragging his index finger through your folds and teasing your tightest hole. “So pink and pretty, aren’t you?”  

“Rafe,” you whined, wiggling back against him. 

Impatient, as always. 

Rafe smirked and stood back up, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside. “Not so tough now, huh?” he taunted, giving your ass a firm smack that had you letting out a sharp gasp. “Still wanna leave me?” 

You whimpered and shook your head as Rafe pushed down his jeans and kicked them aside before stepping towards you again. He braced one knee on the bed as he lined up his hard cock with your core, teasing your folds with the head of his dick. “Rafe,” you whined again, and he was growing tired of your complaints. 

So he shut you up as he slid inside you, filling you up entirely in one deep stroke. “Fuck. You’re so tight,” he grunted, his hands gripping your hips harshly as he used them as leverage to fuck you hard from behind. “You’re mine, baby. No one else gets to feel this tight pussy but me. Isn’t that right?” 

You let out a needy moan that sounded like something straight out of a porno at his words, his protectiveness and possessiveness over you never failing to rile you up. “Fuck,” you moaned, fisting his sheets tightly as he slid in and out of you. “Fuck yes, I’m yours…all yours.”

Rafe loved how easily you caved and gave into him, and he reveled in the power he holds over you. “That’s right, baby,” he groaned, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. “You’ve always been mine. You always will be.”

You only got louder at that, like he knew you would, and he could clearly hear you over the music that had quickly become background noise. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you loved when Rafe said things like that, when he took control completely. 

He was fucking you hard and rough, sending your body jolting forward with every thrust of his hips. “Take it, fucking brat,” he muttered, running his palm over the reddened skin of your ass before he spanked you again. “This is what happens when you threaten to leave me.”

Rafe’s fingers dug into the skin of your hips as he leaned over your back and pressed his mouth to yours in a rough, dominating kiss that was all tongue and teeth as he claimed you in a different way.  

You moaned against his mouth as you kissed him back, the angle a little awkward and straining on your neck, but you didn’t care. “Is that supposed to make me not want to do it again?” you purred, your voice low and seductive as you pulled away from his mouth, both yours and his lips wet and puffy. “If it leads to me getting fucked like this, why wouldn’t I threaten to leave you again?” 

Rafe growled under his breath as he squeezed your red, sore ass. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, his deep voice steady as he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back with little effort. “You’d love to see me chasing after you, begging for another chance to bury myself in your perfect pussy, huh?”

He didn’t let you answer him before he crawled on top of you again, pinning your wrists above your head once more with one hand as he slid back inside you, resuming the relentless fucks of his hips. 

“You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you?” he rasped, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips hit yours over and over again. “But you’ll never leave me, baby. I’ll tie you to my fucking bed if I have to. You’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled back at the new position, this one allowing his cock to brush against the sweet spot deep inside of you that had your toes curling a bit. “Rafe…fuck, baby,” you moaned, pushing weakly against his hand, but he was a lot stronger than you, a lot bigger than you, so you let him keep your arms above your head. “Feels so fucking good.” you whined, arching your back in a way that had your breasts straining against the fabric of your dress. 

“I know, princess. You’re addicted to my cock, aren’t you?” Rafe taunted, his fingers teasing the thin straps of your dress. Then, with a swift tug, he ripped the flimsy material down the middle, completely ruining your dress beyond repair as he exposed your tits to his greedy gaze. Your eyes were wide as he roughly palmed and kneaded your soft skin, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple as he watched the way your chest bounced with every thrust. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. So fucking hot, baby.” 

Rafe released your wrists and sat back on his knees, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he spread them wider apart. It gave him the perfect view of your pussy, so wet for him and stuffed with his cock as he stretched you out. “Rafe…oh, God, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered as you tipped your head back on his bed. 

He grunted, his gaze locked onto your dripping core as he watched you take every inch of him over and over again. “Fuck, look at you. So fucking pretty,” he mumbled, feeling the way you clenched tightly around him. He reached down and rubbed circles over your swollen clit, your cries of pleasure music to his ears. “Mm, yeah, cum for me, baby.”

When he felt your warmth flood around him, Rafe let out a loud grunt, fucking into you a few more times before he came as well. He filled you up entirely, his thrusts becoming less intense and more shallow before he leaned over you, making sure not to put all his body weight onto you.

You both looked debauched and wrecked as Rafe nuzzled your neck, placing softer kisses along your shoulder as he slowly pulled out of you. He ran his fingers through your messy folds before bringing them up to your lips, a lazy smirk on his mouth. “Taste us, baby,”

You licked his fingers, cleaning them of his cum with hooded eyes before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him down onto you fully. “I can’t believe you ripped my fucking dress,” you mumbled as you ran your fingers through his messy, damp hair. 

Rafe grinned, brushing your hair out of your face before he pulled the ruined material properly off your body. “Well, it was in the way, and clearly it was one of those cheap ones, so I did you a favor,” he murmured, “No way I’m letting my girl walk around in a cheap fucking dress.”

When you pouted up at him, Rafe reached down and tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb, the argument that led to this now completely forgotten about. Like they always are. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he cooed, “I’ll buy you another one. Or multiple if you’re good.”

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

Bad decisions // Quinn Hughes

No god, no religion … just bad, bad decisions

Summary: Quinn gets dragged to his girlfriends favourite bands concert despite it not being his favourite genre, but all it took was one song to change his mind.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, light fluff, pda (18+)

── ∘◦ ⛤ ◦∘ ──

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me to this.”

“Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into dating me.” I commented as I applied my lipstick, looking back at Quinn in my mirror.

I wasn’t wrong, but I also never expected him to pursue someone like me either. I wouldn’t really consider myself an “alternative” or “goth” girl though. I had black hair, tattoos and listened to heavier music but I preferred wearing aritzia sweat suits, doing Pilates and swapped wing liner out for clean girl make up. Still, I wasn’t the stereotypical girl that most hockey players go for. I remember the first time I met Quinn and how terrified I was to take my sweater off and expose my full sleeve. But much to my surprise, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Actually, any time I went to get a new tattoo he came with me and held my hand the entire time. It was a kind of intimacy I never thought I would find.


“I know, I’ve just never been to a concert like this. What if I get stuck in the middle of a mosh pit? Also how loud is it gonna be?”

I chuckled, zipping my boots up, “we’ll stay along the side, and yes, bring earplugs.”

“Oh god.” He groaned, throwing his head back on the couch. “You are so lucky I love you.”

“Well…” I trailed off, standing between his legs, leaning over and gripping onto his thighs. “If you’re on your best behaviour, I’ll reward you for it.”

Quinns head popped up as I peaked his interest. “What kind of reward?”


“Whatever you want.” I replied, hovering over his face. His lips ever so slightly brushing against mine, “but you need to be a good boy.”

“I’m about to become the biggest Bad Omens fan you’ve ever seen.”

About an hour later we arrived at the venue, my stomach was filled with butterflies from excitement. I’ve been a huge Bad Omens fan since 2016 and this was my first time seeing them post-covid. Their new album had been out for over a year and I played it so much I think Quinn was getting sick of it, but I would catch him mouthing the lyrics when he thought I wasn’t looking. This man tried to convince me he only listened to rap and country, but I firmly believe he didn’t want to admit he likes my music. I think he was paranoid his brothers or his teammates would tease him for it.

“I think you’d look really hot in that shirt.” 

Quinn and I waited in line at the merch booth before the concert, which was incredibly long. I saw a hoodie on display that I really liked so I wanted to see if they had it in my size. Another shirt caught my attention and I fully envisioned Quinn wearing it with his black Levis, a backwards hat and his white nikes. Just the thought of it made my knees buckle. 

“You think so?” Quinn leaned his head down to take a better look at the shirt in question. His cheek brushed against me, making his cologne hit my nose. It was the perfect mix of sage and cedar. I gently kissed his cheek, a bashful smile appeared on his face before he pressed his lips to my temple.


“Absolutely. I mean, you make everything look good.” I breathed, still reeling from his lips, “but I’d love to see you in that.”


“If you say so.” He smirked as it was our turn. He bought my hoodie for me along with a signed vinyl, and the shirt I told him to get. He sent me the most devilish grin as he tapped his credit card, knowing he just made me incredibly happy.

We made our way towards the stage, it was already pretty packed so I suggested we stood at the back near the sound booth. That way we would be out of the way of any crowd surfers or mosh pits because no one was dumb enough to fuck around expensive sound equipment. The concert was everything I hoped it would’ve been and more. The openers, I see stars and Erra put on incredible sets. Quinn looked like he seen a ghost when Erra came out, considering they were a little heavier than I see stars were, which made him look so adorable. Towards the end of their set, he was more impressed than scared which was a relief. Small smirks kept showing up on his face that he desperately tried to bite back but he couldn’t.

“You surviving?”

“Yeah, thank you for bringing me.” Quinn replied taking a sip of his drink, “I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

“Good, I’m glad.” I mused, “we haven’t even got to the best part yet.”

Before he could say anything, the lights went dark again and Bad Omens slowly made their way to the stage. My heart was rapidly racing in my chest as the boys opened up with Artificial Suicide. I immediately started jumping up and down, screaming the lyrics, completely forgetting about the world around me. Every now and then I would look up at Quinn, who just had the biggest smile on his face watching me enjoy myself.

Halfway through the concert, the band slowed the pace down, which came at the perfect time. My drinks were starting to hit me, making my head feel lighter than normal. The melody for Bad Decisions started and I immediately fell back into Quinn, becoming enamoured with how his breath crept along my neck.

Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn

The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone…

His arms wrapped around my stomach as he slowly swayed us back and forth to the beat, slow and reverberating. His skin felt warm to the touch as his chin rested gently on my shoulder. The low vibrations from the song along with the siren red lighting was stirring something up in me. My hips instinctively rolled into him, feeling overstimulated by every single sensation that took over my body. I knew Quinn wasn’t complaining, considering I felt him twitch through his jeans.

You can be all I got, what's the difference?

Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions

All I know is bad, bad decisions

Quinn brushed my hair away from my shoulder, slowly planting kisses on my exposed shoulder. Each kiss nonchalantly making their way up to my neck, then my jaw, causing goosebumps as his week old stubble grazed my skin. My eyes stayed shut, as his lips dragged all over me. An audible gasp left my mouth as he lightly nipped at my skin, gently sucking, leaving his mark on me.

“Turn around.”

I turned around, his arms found me again and bringing me closer to him. My hands found their home in his hair, enveloping his curls between my fingers. The soft aura of the red lights made his green eyes the perfect muse in this dark room. I was so lost in him that I forget where we were, the crowd completely melted away from us and it was almost as if we were the only ones here. He had that effect on me, he knew how to make me feel like I was his, and only his. His forehead pressed lightly against mine, lips hovering so close I could taste the whiskey on his breath. The gap was finally closed, his mouth enveloping mine as I turned into putty in his hands. Our tongues danced together as the song was getting close to the end, but Quinn didn’t seem to care. He pressed me harder against his body, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and kissing me with such desperation. He never gave me any chances to come up for air, his lips stayed glued to mine as if my mouth gave him a new breath of life.

Bitter ends to the night, I'm along for the ride

Out of breath, out of time, everything has a price

We broke apart and the smallest smile curved at the side of his mouth as he trailed his thumb along my mouth. Neither of us realized the band started to play What do you want from me? shifting the energy in the venue. The music slowly filled my ears like I was underwater and coming up for air finally. I smiled back at him, I was in a complete state of euphoria.

“Okay you win.” Quinn said into my ear as I gripped onto his shirt to keep my composure. “I definitely just found my new favourite song.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” I mused as I had a lightbulb moment, “we need to get you into the pit.”

“Babe, no -“

I grabbed his hand and drug him into the crowd. Everyone was moving around and having the best time. I had to admit this was one of their better songs and it’s physically impossible to stay still during it. Quinn stood there frozen before giving in and started to jump around with me, not daring to let me out of his grasp. He sung the lyrics he was embarrassed to admit he knew with me, caught a guitar pick for me and held me as I cried during Just Pretend.

“Holy fucking shit, this guy is an animal.” Quinn gasped as the lead singer, Noah let out the most primal, gluttonous screams during the encore of dethrone. He wasn’t wrong though, I could feel those screams in my bones.

The concert finally ended, tears prickling my eyes as black and red confetti stuck to us and covered the entire floor. I didn’t want to leave but we had to. That was the best concert I’ve never witnessed and it felt so bittersweet that it was over.

“So, have I been a good boyfriend or what?”

I just chuckled as we made our way outside. The cold air hit my face and it felt like heaven after being a sweaty mess for three hours. We got into the car and Quinn leaned over to help me with my seat belt. I never once questioned why he started doing it, but I wasn’t about to complain about my boyfriend being this close to me at any given moment. His eyes were a perfect shade of green, the kind of green you wanted your morning matcha to be. They peered so deeply into mine I didn’t realize he asked me a question.

“So what’s my prize?”

“You’ll find out when we get home.”

[paetalks]

the first time sukuna ryomen hears 212 by azealia banks it’s through the walls of his room that he shares directly with your bathroom. your voice sounds muffled over the loud bass base that is pounding a hole in his head while he’s trying to focus on his pc. he’s trying to write a paper for college and it’s almost impossible with all the noise you have been making. you weren’t a bad neighbor overall - i mean, he has never seen you in person - but the music you would blast while showering was absolutely insufferable to him. you always kept quiet, day and night, never run around or moved furniture. sukuna has been living there for well over a month and everything was going okay, apart from the fact that you loved singing in the shower. it was okay the first times, really, but lately the songs kept getting louder and louder. and it was all annoying, girly club music. the one he couldn’t really stomach.

so when he hears the first notes of yet another kim petras’ song he gets up from his chair and bolts out the apartment, ringing at your doorbell. it takes a while for the volume to be turned down, and ever more for you to reach the door. when you crack it slightly open, you see a tall, tattooed, muscular man looking down at you with pure hatred in his eyes. your brain goes blank and you let the door slip from your hands, opening fully only to reveal your towel-covered body and damp hair. his eyes widen, but never leave your frame or seem to be less angry. “hi?” you say, confused.

“hi.” his voice is deep, his sentences short and cutting “would you mind turning the damn music down?”

“oh” you frown, looking at him from head to toe. you notice how he’s wearing grey sweat pants and a black sabbath’s t-shirt that looks like it has seen better days. his hair is all over the place. a smirk makes its way to your face. “yeah, i would actually mind. i was kinda in the middle of something…” you gesture back to the direction in which the music is still coming from and your towel falls slightly lower.

the stranger’s eyes follow your hands as you pull it up again, rolling them afterwards. “i’m trying to work here.” he gestures at his front door, right next to yours.

“okay?” you purse your lips. “i don’t think that’s any of my business really. i’m just playing some good music.”

“good?” his eyebrows furrow. “you don’t even know what good music is.”

you roll your eyes. “okay, stranger. go ahead and insult me right in my house.” you chuckle at yourself, meanwhile ayesha erotica starts playing in the background. “oooh, i love this song!” you squeal, and his eyes dart quickly between the direction in which the music is coming from and your body.

before he can say anything else, you smile forcefully. “gotta go back in there. byeeee!” and you close the door right in front of his face.

he stands there for a while, eyes widened and twitching. how can you be so hot and yet so annoying? he starts asking himself while walking back to his room. he sits back in his chair and as soon as he decides to surrender for the day and give up on his work, the music finally stops. sighting in relief, he opens his laptop again, still thinking about you and how that little towel wasn’t even covering all that much. you definitely are something, he thinks, taking a deep breath finally in deep silence.

or so he thinks, because not even a second later the first notes of paranoid from black sabbath start playing at full volume on your speaker. he laughs with himself. “she’s funny” he mumbles, shaking his head, secretly hoping to bump in you again soon.

sorry guys just had a shower and thought aboyt this. also i love music bye <3

[f1girliefics]

Love in the Fast Lane

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: A road trip turns into a heartfelt journey of love.

The hum of the engine was a soothing backdrop as Lewis drove, his sunglasses reflecting the sunlit highway stretching out ahead.

You sat in the passenger seat, your hand resting lightly on the console between you, and you couldn’t help but notice the smile playing on his lips.

He had been unusually quiet about the details of this trip, only saying he wanted to take you somewhere special.

“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked, turning to look at him.

He glanced at you, his smile growing. “Where’s the fun in that? Just trust me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Trusting you got me into a car at 6 AM with no coffee. I think I deserve a hint.”

“Alright, alright,” he said as he reached to squeeze your hand before putting his back on the wheel. “It’s somewhere I used to go before everything got... hectic. A place that helps me think, you know?”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you for bringing me along.”

“Where else would you be, Love?” he asked with a smile before you reached to change the music.

The rest of the drive was filled with easy conversation.

He pointed out random sights along the way.

A quirky roadside diner.

A vintage car that zipped past, and you teased him about how he couldn’t resist critiquing other drivers.

After a couple of hours, the car slowed as he turned onto a narrow, tree-lined road. The lush greenery enveloped the path, and you felt a thrill of anticipation.

“This is it?” you asked, peering out at the scenery.

“Not quite,” he said, his voice teasing. “We’ve got just a little more to go.”

The road opened to a breathtaking view of rolling hills, the sun painting the landscape in gold.

Lewis parked the car at a small overlook and got out, rounding the vehicle to open your door.

“Ever the gentleman,” you teased, taking his hand as you stepped out.

“Always.”

He led you to a spot where a blanket and a small picnic basket had been set up. You blinked in surprise, turning to him. “When did you do this?”

“Magic, and a little planning.”

You sat on the blanket, Lewis handed you your favourite soda.

Conversation between you two was always something extremely calming and natural.

As the sun began to set, casting everything in a beautiful, golden light, Lewis grew quieter.

You watched him, noticing the way he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

“Hey,” you said softly, touching his arm. “What’s on your mind?”

He looked at you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilted your head, smiling. “Is that so?”

He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box.

Your breath caught as he opened it to reveal a stunning ring, the diamonds catching the sunlight even though there was not much sunlight left.

“Lucky that I get to spend my life with you,” he said, his voice steady but full of meaning and depth. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to ask you this, and I realized there’s no such thing as the perfect time. Every moment with you feels right.” Your heart was pounding as he took your hand. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, all you could do was nod. “Yes,” you managed to finally say, your voice breaking. “Yes, of course.”

He slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands steady even as yours trembled.

Then he pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

“Guess I’ll have to drive carefully on the way back,” he murmured into your hair.

You laughed through your tears of happiness, pulling back to look at him. “Why’s that?”

“Because now I’ve got my future wife in the car,” he said, his grin breaking through.

The rest of the evening was you going through Pinterest having to look at different wedding aesthetics, trying to find the most perfect one.

"Since you are a knight... can we hold the wedding in a castle?" you asked and Lewis laughed.

"So you can be the Princess and me the Knight in shining armour?"

"Or a nice Armani suit. I'm not forcing you into anything metal." Lewis nodded.

"We will do everything you want, Princess."

And as you drove back, you couldn't look away from your beautiful ring. A proud smile on his lips and a very happy one on yours.

[daddyissuesbecauseofhotch]

Daddy issues || #3

{masterlist}

There’s a knock on your door late in the morning, just as you are sipping the second mug of coffee of the day. A sigh escapes your lips as you close your laptop, not feeling like talking to anyone right now, but knowing full well it would be rude to pretend you’re not at home, especially since the music you’ve been listening to can probably be heard from outside.

You have a deadline tomorrow, and the goddamn wireframe is not done yet, there’s something that’s missing, you know that. Some results you needed for this only arrived late last night, and your boss didn’t give you much time to work on it. Your teammate promised to take a look at it tomorrow morning, so it had to be done and sent today.

But when you open the door, there’s no one in the hallway, not a single soul. And then you look down momentarily to find an envelope on the doormat with your name written on it. Strange, who would leave a handwritten note these days? In the end, you just shrug and pick it up before heading back inside.

“Dinner at six at our place, don’t be late. Jack wants to get to know you, and maybe we could watch a movie together. He also wants you to know there will be enough popcorn for all of us,” it says, and it’s signed by Aaron. But then your eyes move lower to find a postscript. “Okay, that’s all Jack could see, here’s the thing. I also want to get to know you, preferably after I put Jack to bed. There are topics I’d rather not discuss in front of him. And wear my hoodie, I’m begging you. Anyway, save my number just in case.”

Heat rises to your cheek when you finish the letter, and you automatically reach for your phone to save the number he included at the end. It’s ridiculous, really, but you can’t stop yourself. This man has you in a chokehold, even if you’ve only exchanged like a total of five sentences so far. Maybe you would say no under different circumstances, but this time it’s a cute little boy who insists on having you over, who are you to decline?

You return to the wireframe, but five minutes later your gaze shifts to the phone next to your laptop. You should send a text to him and his son to thank them for the invitation. Just one text, that’s all. It would be nothing more but a friendly gesture, a simple text from a neighbor. With a sigh, you pick up the device and lean back in the swivel chair.

You: Thank you for the invitation.

You: I’m your neighbor, by the way.

Aaron: I’m glad you got the letter. Does this mean you’ll come over?

You: Jack mentioned popcorn, how could I say no that?

Aaron: And what about me?

You: Haven’t decided yet.

Aaron: You’re such a tease.

Aaron: Will you wear my hoodie as I asked?

You: I’m thinking about wearing that with no pants under it, it’s almost as long as some of my dresses.

Aaron: Sweetheart, there will be an underage kid in the apartment.

Sweetheart? God, he doesn’t waste his time. Your stomach does a flip upon reading the pet name, and it’s hard to resist the urge to smile like an idiot. He’s an outrageous flirt. You’re fucked. That’s it.

You: Fine, I’ll wear yoga pants.

Aaron: Perfect.

Aaron: But I won’t complain if you take it off after Jack goes to bed.

You: Oh, you want to see me naked?

Aaron: I was only talking about the yoga pants, but if you insist, who am I to say no?

You: You’re unbelievable.

You: Alright, stop disturbing me, I have a deadline at work. See you tonight.

Aaron: Can’t wait.

[pixiexdusts-world]

Out of his depth

Cho Sang Woo x younger!reader

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~The bass of the club thumped beneath my feet, the lights swirling in a chaotic mix of neon pink and electric blue. This was my world—messy, loud, and alive. And then there was Sang-woo.

He stood near the bar, perfectly out of place in his crisp button-up shirt and stiff posture. His hand gripped a glass of whiskey, the only thing about him that seemed remotely relaxed. Even in the chaos, he exuded this quiet control, like he was above it all. Maybe he was.

“You look like you’re having so much fun,” I teased, sliding up beside him.

He glanced at me, his usual sharp, calculating expression softening just a little when he saw my grin. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice steady and low.

“Liar,” I shot back, leaning my hip against the bar. “You hate this, don’t you?”

He took a sip of his drink, his eyes scanning the crowd. “It’s not exactly my scene.”

“That’s an understatement,” I said with a laugh. “But you came anyway. For me.” I batted my lashes dramatically, knowing it would get at least a smirk out of him.

It worked. Barely. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

“And you love it,” I countered, grabbing his free hand and tugging him toward the dance floor.

“I’m not dancing,” he said firmly, resisting just enough to make me laugh.

“Yes, you are,” I insisted, pulling harder. “Or at least you’re going to stand there while I dance around you. It’s the least you can do.”

He sighed, but he followed me anyway, his grip tightening around my hand like he thought I might slip away into the crowd.

Once we were in the middle of the chaos, I let go and started moving to the music, swaying and spinning in a way that probably made him feel even more out of place. But when I glanced back at him, I caught the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

“You’re staring,” I said over the music, flashing him a grin.

“I’m making sure you don’t trip over someone,” he shot back, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

I laughed, reaching out to grab his tie and pull him a little closer. “You can relax, you know. No one here is going to eat you alive.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Oh, come on,” I said, stepping even closer. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little fun.”

“I’m not scared of anything,” he said, his voice low and deliberate.

“Prove it,” I challenged, tilting my head.

He didn’t move right away, just stood there with that calculating look of his. And then, to my surprise, he leaned down, his mouth close to my ear.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.

I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck as the music pounded around us. “And you’re addicted to it.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he let me pull him further into my world, where control didn’t matter, and nothing else existed but the beat of the music and the heat between us.