#and my brain doesn't like functioning anymore

[sunnywalnut]

I also would like to add as someone who takes medication- ask other people if it seems like your meds are working.

Especially if you take antipsychotics/stimulant drugs.

A lot of meds do have side effects that can be pretty mean. Or not work at all. But they also could just be working so good that you don't notice because you're so used to struggling that getting used to a new normal is ALSO a struggle.

"but why would you stop taking meds if they're working?" We're human. If something worked, and has worked for a while, we don't think "oh goodness I should keep doing this even though there's no increase of Good just to make sure the Bad doesn't come back!"

We think "damn this thing really isn't working the same as it once did. Idk if it works anymore. Maybe I should stop"

And to that I tell you WAIT!!

Talk to your roommates, your friends, your family. Ask them if they remember how you were struggling before your medication. Ask them if it seems like you're struggling still or what symptoms might look like they're starting to show up again.

"but how would they know what goes on in my brain?" Ohoho my friend that's the wonderful part! Mental health HAS PHYSICAL SIGNS!!

Forgetfulness can show up as losing your keys or phone even though they're in the same chair beside you.

Clustered brainspace/"confused thoughts"/brain static can look like struggling to do house chores or having to tear things apart in order to sort through them correctly or even changing tasks seven different times even though they don't make sense to anyone including you.

Depression or problems with executive function can look like not being able to take a shower even when you sit still for half an hour obsessing and feeling guilty about it.

And of course this is only three examples. There's so much more that could happen and show up in different ways(which I absolutely encourage people to add on their own) but please. Before you decide to go off your meds, go through the process of figuring out if they ACTUALLY don't work

Lest you turn out like me, three years of no meds on a steady decline.

Thank you.

Local PSA: invisible disability does NOT mean you can live your life like a "normal person" invisible disability meant that if a stranger looks at you in public they wouldn't know what's going on.

Like if a wheelchair user were to decide to run into a corner store to grab a candy bar because they know that their legs can last that long without, the cashier wouldn't know.

Or someone with "mild" scoliosis walking upright through their shoulder leans slightly to the left. Maybe they just have bad posture. The lady in the next isle thinks to herself.

The person with EDS or POTS or whatever sort of condition wearing compression gloves out and about. Perhaps it's a fashion statement?

Or what about the people with intestinal issues? They can look like "normal people" too.

You never know what someone is going through.

You never know what they might need to survive or if they're on the edge of a flare up or even if they are currently going through one just by one look.

I think both disabled and non disabled need to realize this. You're not "no longer disabled" because you can "live without" disability aids. They're there to help you. To make your life easier. If living without a cane is going to make it more likely you'll fall over and hurt yourself, use the cane.

If you need to sit down to do dishes or cut vegetables because you need to save your legs for taking out the trash, sit down.

If you need a shower chair because you don't know if you'll pass out, use the shower chair.

People are going to judge you regardless for multiple reasons out of your control.

I'd rather they judge you while you're being safe.

You don't need to struggle to be "normal."

You can just be you.

However that looks for you.

Use your disability aids.

[catreginae]

Okay, now that I'm home, I can elaborate on the Mecha AU really liked but I don't have time for! As a disclaimer, it's been a long time since I last watched a mecha anime so I don't even know why it's a thought my brain is even entertaining.

Anyway.

Time - the commander/leader of the team. He can pilot a mech and sometimes helps the others but he doesn't go into the field anymore. He really wants to just retire for good but since he's the only one who can pilot the Deity mech, he's kind of stuck there in case the world is ending and he needed to get in the seat.

Twilight - a pilot! His mech can shift between a bipedal mode and a quadrupedal mode. He never planned on piloting but he jumped into one to help his village and he's piloting since. Kind of a natural!

Warriors - another pilot! He's been training a long time to be a pilot so he is really good at it but at the same time, Time keeps an eye on him since a couple of missions have gone horribly wrong and Warriors had to take some mental health breaks.

Legend - semi-retired pilot, works more behind the scenes now as support/a handler. He stays in constant contact with whoever out on missions and makes sure they get everything they need. He likes to say he'll only hop into a mech if the world is ending but he also likes to tinker with mechs so he's sometimes in one to test out new weapons or programs.

Four - the group mechanic. He's either maintaining or repairing the group mechs himself or he directs other teams on what to do. In his down time, he likes making new things for the mechs. He knows all the mechs inside and out except for Deity. I think he once wanted to pilot but he ended up being more interested in the engineering side.

Hyrule - semi-retired pilot, works with Legend with support. He also supports the pilots himself with minor first aid. Unlike Legend, he does want to get back into the field but his mech got infected with a nasty computer virus and Four hasn't finished trouble shooting it (this is my twist on the blood curse). He's happy to help where he can.

Sky - full time pilot! Like Warriors, he trained a long time to be a pilot. His mech is relatively normal but it uses a sword Sky just kind of found and nobody is quite sure how it works, but it does a great job at killing things. Sky's mech is the best at flying.

Wind - the youngest pilot and a lot of people quest if somebody so young should even be a pilot but he's the only who figured out how the pilot the King of Red Lions, which is one of the only mechs that can function in water. He's young and new but shows a lot of potential, so he's on the team.

Wild - a pilot who had to go on medical leave for a long time and he's kind of figuring everything out again. He was severely injured from a previous mission with a different team and suffers from amnesia. Nobody expected him to ever be a pilot again but here he is! His mech was partially made with the recycled parts from his old one.

People are free to run with this if it speaks to you. You're free to change things up too. I don't have time for it but I still think it's kind of fun.

[sag-dab-sar]

📖 Myth & Sacred Scripture 📖

In Hellenic Polytheism and Mesopotamian Polytheism (and others but I don't want to speak for them) there is no sacred scripture where the words of a God are given to a myth writer and that writing is then declared holy by some form of religious authority.

The idea that myths are the literal actions of the Gods come from a concept of sacred scripture. Sacred meaning the words have holy implications or they have a fundamentally important connection to the divine. This understanding of religious writings is demonstrated in:

Protestant Christianity where the Bible is divinely inspired (usually derived from 1 Timothy 3:16 & 2 Peter 1:12). Additionally, in Trinitarian Christianity Jesus is God making his words in the Gospels the literal words of God.

Islam where the Quran are the words of God given to Mohammad via the angel Gabriel over the course of his life.

Judaism where traditionally the written Torah are the words of God given to Moses at Mt Sinai.

**There are more examples but I'm not going to try and talk about something I did not study.

This pervasive idea of scripture being the words of God embeds itself into a general view of what religion supposedly is because:

Christianity is the largest religion in the world.

Christianity is the dominant religion in English speaking countries, so when we have these discussions in English it tends to have that cultural Christian viewpoint.

Islam is the second largest religion in the world.

Islam considers the Jewish and Christian scriptures to also be given from God, but they have been corrupted in one way or another. This combination can put a mistaken emphasis on sacred scripture being a fundamental aspect of religion.

Even though Judaism is a very small religion the the written Torah is considered part of the Christian Old Testament (first five books). Christians interpret the scripture completely differently but the idea of Moses receiving the Word of God at Mt Sinai continues into Christianity from Judaism.

In many "dead religions" the closest you can come to the "words of the gods" might be the writings of ancient oracles or those who communed directly with spirits & gods. However, in Greece and Mesopotamia there was no centralized religion or continuous tradition to overview and canonize them into sacred scripture. Additionally, those are not usually what people are talking about when they refer to myth.

Myth is extremely important, but mythic literalism is a misstep people make, often due to our preconceived notions of sacred scriptures and their connection to the divine.

-dyslexic not audio proof read-

-I hope this makes sense-

[fragglerockopinions]

.

[albonium]

i told my doctor about my adhd diagnostic and she didn't even really ask questions she looked at the letter from the psychiatrist and made me a prescription for the necessary tests i have to do before taking a treatment

[mosspapi]

Straight up not having a good time rn

[tkbrokkoli]

important addition from @whimsys-malevolent-brainrot that in part 22, yellow says that arthur reeks!! ty for that, I didn't remember. so I take it from that that john has actually always been able to smell, right?

did you guys notice that during ep48, john described a smell to arthur? i don't think he always has been able to smell bc i remember in one episode he could only smell smth when it was v strong and i don't think him being able to smell was mentioned in the earlier episodes. so maybe them sharing smell is smth that has slowly developed over time? also the fact that he described a smell to arthur is so sweet, like arthur can smell by himself, he doesn't need a smell description, john

[marycorcaroli]

first sex with zoro or sanji?

headcanons ; 18+.

rules ; masterlist.

i had a request for "first sex with zoro" but i decided to add sanji as well, hope no one minds ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.

sanji.

— the first time you have sex with sanji is like something tender and beautiful. his long fingers move over your body, sending shivers down your spine, and sanji loves it. he loves that you let him spoil you and not give anyone else the opportunity.

— he'll probably go crazy when he sees you completely naked. he'll spend several minutes looking at all your curves and admiring you.

— sanji will start with endless compliments to warm you up "you're so beautiful", "what did I do to deserve you?", "you're too beautiful for humans", "wow, you're already wet and we're just getting started, do you want my cock so bad?" i already told you he's shameless.

— will leave hickeys all over your body and afterwards, make sure to kiss each one so you don't forget his tender side.

— will lick you for hours before fucking everything out of you.

— just licking you will bring you to euphoric orgasms that make your legs shake, your brain stop functioning and your mouth can't produce anything, but sobs and pleas for more. sanji isn't rough, he wants you to feel all the pleasure possible and realize what it's really like.

— will kiss you while his fingers play with your swollen clit (he still didn't have enough he left you a total mess), his lips bite yours but at the same time he is so gentle and afraid that you won't like something.

— your comfort is important to him so don't be afraid to tell him if you're in pain or if you want him to be more gentle. sanji will do anything for you ! because he loves you to no end and he's afraid to hurt you.

— i bet he gets turned on by kissing you and can't stop.

— sanji will kiss you to hear you moaning into his mouth and sobbing. that way he will know that you like it and you are not afraid anymore.

— i don't think he'll want to hold your wrists, sanji thinks that way he'll completely limit your actions, and he likes it when you touch him ! !

— the first time he has sex, it's the missionary position! it's the best for him where he can look into your eyes and kiss your face ! ! my boy is so perfect.

— his pace is not the fastest, it's medium, it's your first time, even if he likes rough sex, pain, blindfold and restriction, he won't do those things, it's all for your comfort. sanji will be the most loving 🥺 he will start with slow thrusts so you get used to his length and don't feel pain.

— HE HAS SUCH A BIG DICK 😩 i know that for a fact ! ! sanji knows how to handle it and feeling it with his hand on your belly, god is he in heaven????

— will snuggle up to you all the time, most likely your whole neck will be in his drool for he keeps bumping his face into it.

— with your permission, will cum in you so that your cum will be fused into one ( it sounds so weird ) but if you are against it, cum on your stomach is just as good.

— aftercare ! ! will wash you in the cutest way, whispering compliments that make you red as a tomato in your ear while sanji kisses your cheeks <> bring you water, food or turn on your favorite show, watch until you fall asleep at his side, then turn off tv, hug you tight and kiss your temple, thinking about how wonderful you are and that he would do anything for you.

zoro.

— the most beautiful boy in the world ! !

— even if he looks tough, his heart is made of tenderness and love for you.

— he doesn't really need sex with you, you love and support each other, so zoro is more of a platonic relationship.

— but when it comes to sex he wants everything to be perfect. he will spend the whole day with you and show you the most beautiful places he associates with you.

— he will give you the most magnificent kisses that will show all his love for you, his hands will wrap around your whole body and press you tighter against him so that you can feel his heartbeat (it is accelerated because of you).

— he will gently undress you and keep looking at your eyes to make sure you want it.

— he is so happy : ( you trust him so much that you want to be close to him in this way. zoro will give you the most wonderful pleasure ! !

— completely undressing you, running his fingers over your body, over your scars or tattoos, leaving the wettest kisses on them.

— kisses ! ! it's important for zoro to kiss you during sex, so the intimacy between you increases.

— he will lick you till the last to make you ready for him. he has such an experienced tongue and your cunnie is so sweet, he can't hold back anymore 😩 he will bring you to squirt and then start working his fingers to see the show again.

— his pleasure is not so important to him, yours is much more important and he will do anything for it.

— he'll leave your clit swollen and kiss it in the most tender way <> and he won't mind leaving hickeys on your thighs and biting them a little. zoro is crazy about your thighs ! !

— before entering you he will say the most beautiful words of love to you "thank you for trusting me, i will do everything to make you feel great, i promise i will love you till my last breath and after that".

— like sanji, zoro's ideal position is missionary, where he can see all your emotions and can kiss your whole face.

— his pace is very smooth, he does not like sudden movements or too rough sex, he is a real romantic.

— sex with him will be long and pleasant, he is in no hurry and wants to remember this moment forever, which they will do.

— he doesn't care where to cum, he doesn't really want to make a mess, but if you ask him to, he will cum on your thighs or in you (he dreams about it).

— he will change your sheets and wash with you, telling you how good you are for him. he will bring you water or food and then fall asleep on your breasts while your fingers massage his head.

[ask-spiderpool]

Hey mod, are you okay? It’s been a while since you posted (no judgement!) and I just wanted to see if something was wrong. Love you and I hope you stay strong🫶🏼

Bless you anon! I appreciate you checking in! I don't post a lot of personal updates here, but I have been going through the wringer lately... hough.

Lately I've been battling with anxiety, you know, same as everyone. It's kind of made things that I used to enjoy kind of stressful for me. Everything becomes stressful for me. Even not having things to stress about makes me stressed. I'm at my most Peter Parkeriest, in the worst sort of a way.

I thought it was a brain thing – that it was all in my head. I have a new, stressful job, and a stressful living situation, and some family issues I'm dealing with. It'll pass. So I kind of tried to power through, until my body shut down on me last year. And as it turns out, when I got checked out by the doc, it's not just a brain thing. I have a tumor (her name is Lamar, and she's benign, buuut...) she's producing 5x the normal amount of stress hormone in my body. The doctors think it's insane. I think it's hilarious. I feel like it's some kind of joke.

I've been battling this ridiculous chronic stress for years, thinking it was all in my head, but actually, biologically, I'm an overflowing reservoir of stress, and it's something that can be measured in my bloodstream. And it's been going on for years!

So, lately I've been devoting a lot of time to forcing myself to relax. Doctors orders. I can't get stressed about things. Every day I have to effectively diffuse a bomb. And the bomb is me. I'm so pumped up with involuntary stress, and I have to devote my time to keeping it at a manageable level. And so there are a lot of backflips I have to do to keep myself human right now, and not turn into a bomb.

See... posting to the blog doesn't exactly calm me down. It makes me anxious, most of the time. So I've been telling myself it's okay. Only post when you feel good. You have enough things to worry about, and the blog can't be one another thing to worry about. It can only be for fun. If it doesn't feel like fun, don't do it.

I need to do a million little calming activities to function. The blog used to calm me. But it doesn't, anymore. I still love it, and I still have so many scripts I'm excited to do, but... I just have to be patient with myself, right now. I can't bug my head over something that can wait. It can wait. Right now isn't the time. My health is the most important thing. I can't get that back, if I lose it.

Right now I'm about keeping my head above water. Keeping calm. Doing meditative things, that aren't necessarily productive... (trust me, I am SO upset about not being productive. I miss it a lot) but they force me to take it slow and force me to not worry. I'm learning the banjo (she calms me), and I spend a lot more time in nature, having staring contests with ducks and pigeons, and befriending beetles and bugs.

I'm a very positive person, and I know I'll make it through, and I love myself for all the effort I'm making to keep myself from breaking. Because I know if I didn't force myself to calm down, I could snap like an elastic band. I – I don't want to break, like I did last year. I need to be good to myself. And relaxing is an effort. It takes a lot for me. And certain calming routines work for a little while, and then stop working, and I need to make the effort all over again to find something new. It's kind of insane how much time I need to calm back down again. I remember, once upon a time, it being baseline.

Luckily there's a surgical solution, so hopefully I'll be normal again soon, and there won't be any more bees buzzing in my brain!

I hope you'll all be patient with me! And hopefully I'll make it out alive and stronger than ever, soon.

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

[l13]

OK BUT THE THIRD KEEGAN ONE IN YOUR MOST RECENT NSFW VISUALS

You being all needy and horny, but Keegan just won’t get off his games, so he lets you strip him, telling you shit like “Yea baby use my cock to get off” and “make yourself feel so fucking good” while he plays his game in the background, barely even focusing on it anymore.

And when he undoubtedly loses the round he pulls you off his cock flipping you over and giving you a good dicking down because “made me lose my fucking game you little slut”

nsfw mdni!

imagine if he's using the voice chat as well, and he's too busy being focused on his game so he doesn't pay you any mind when you sit down right next to him, giving you a quick glance to confirm his suspicions that you were indeed only in your underwear,

he swallows hard, and blinks away his lust as he tunes back to the game, calling out instructions for his team when he feels your hand drop on his crotch, and his cock jumps, his gaze snapping to yours as he gives you a warning look,

but you ignore him obviously, starting to palm his cock over his briefs and his eyes flutter, a small "Fuck," escaping his lips as he stops moving in-game, his brain not functioning for a good two seconds,

he quickly snaps out of his daze, muting himself and whispering out, "What do you think you're doing?" afraid his teammates would somehow still hear him,

you pout, "I need you, baby," and keegan can't say no to that, so he's cursing lowly, "Fuck okay- m not helping you out though, you can use me but you're gonna do all the work."

and you're nodding quickly, laying a quick kiss on his cheek to further express your gratitude, and then you're pulling his cock out and he's hissing, wetting his lips and unmuting himself with shaky hands,

his character resumes running in game, and keegan has half the mind to think that he's a lucky bastard for not dying in those 10 seconds he was afk, but then you're situating yourself on his lap, holding his cock with one hand as you run the tip of it against your folds before sliding it in- and keegan's left hand lets go of the controller to squeeze at your thigh in warning when you moan at the sensation,

it's ironic because he barely kept his own voice in check, and who could blame him? your pussy was practically sucking his cock in,

a little while later, when he can't handle the excruciatingly slow pace you'd set anymore (he also died in-game cause he kept running into walls, his mind too busy thinking about how fucking tight your pussy's gripping him), he lets go of the controller to help you move your hips on his cock and you grin down at him, "Thought you were letting me do all the work?"

keegan snarls, "That was before you made me lose, you little slut. What, you want my cock that bad, huh? Don't worry, I'll fucking give it to you now," and then he's bending you over and fucking you till you're a crying, babbling mess<3

[foone]

It's sometimes hard to talk about silly counterfactual or just bad theories, because other people don't always understand the difference between "I'm making up a bad idea because it's amusing to me to consider the ramifications and functionality of a clearly bad idea" and "I have untreated schizophrenia".

Because the former is funny and amusing to me! I love it. And the second is... Not. It's mean to laugh at people's mental illness. And even if the content sometimes is similar, it's the larger context of it that makes it unfun to laugh at, at least for me. Maybe this doesn't bother other people as much?

It's like when I talk about weird computer ideas and someone goes "oh like TempleOS?" and it's... No! I'm into doing silly things with computers because I find that amusing and funny. I do not find TempleOS to be anything of the sort.

If the same content existed, but by someone who did it as a joke? Instead of someone with an admitted mental illness who got lolcow'd to death by 4chan? Yeah it'd be hilarious! I'd be all over that shit. But I know the background to why it's like this, and that is simply not funny to me. Enough so that it ruins any possible enjoyment for me. So TempleOS is nothing but a sad story to me, of a brilliant programmer who suffered from a severe mental illness that he eventually died from.

Maybe it's just my own struggles with mental health and all, but I just can't enjoy those kinds of things. Maybe it's just that other people don't as easily recognize the difference between "this bad idea is being explored for the amusement of the author, who is fully aware of how bad it is" and "this idea is being written about seriously by an author suffering from a severe mental illness".

Though if that was the case, you'd expect there to be more people assuming my writing is schizophrenic? Which basically never happens, it's just people going "oh this is like..." and naming something that was written by someone with schizophrenia or other psychotic condition. Maybe the comparison doesn't bother others as much? It just sometimes feels like people are going "oh, your joke reminds me of this other thing that isn't funny and is just sad"

Anyways, just to be clear, I don't mean that I have anything against people suffering from mental illness (which I hope should be obvious to most people?), or even their writing. It's just that "wacky things" aren't funny to me when they're clearly being written by someone suffering some kind of psychosis. It's the laughing at it that I have a problem with.

Like it's one thing to laugh when your buddy randomly goes "cinnamon eyeglasses!" because they're being a weirdo. It's a completely different thing to laugh at someone saying that because they just had a stroke and parts of their brain aren't functioning anymore. That's a bit what it's like to go "lol, TempleOS is so weird!". You're laughing at someone's illness. And frankly that's just kind of a dick move no matter what, you know?

[mecachrome]

#i wish it weren't taboo to talk about how 814 are literally just an audhd couple... could discuss this for days. does anyone want to

actually yes i would like nothing more this is lowkey all i think about sometimes

HLSDKFHLH i was about to publish my own post but now i feel enabled to write a Longer Response 🧡 thank u guys

2 me 814 is Girl who is so classically adhd it's comical (overt hyperfixations + poor executive function + basically arfid + time blindness) coexists beautifully with Misunderstood autistic girl (too straightforward for other people + pretended to be a car as a child + sensory issues through the roof + consciously masking in every interview) while everyone loses their minds because they should Hate Each Other and be at each other's throats??! and yet they don't because their neurodivergent swag transcends petty team politics 💗

like honestly i think they interact easily because they're both weird & particular in their own ways but their priorities are ultimately the same so why would any of that matter you know? and they try to accommodate each other when they're able to even if it's little things like oscar not eating salmon around lando anymore lol 😭 (i say this as audhd guy with extreme sensory issues and many other Problems and Issues... that is in fact romanze to me. also little stuff like the No Name Drop? moment because yes it's small in the grand scheme of things but to me it's special because it's like... THEIR inside joke and oscar is proving he does enjoy it and cares about maintaining it :') and then when lando was feeling down post-race in brazil he pulled out landinho all on his own <3)

like this is so random but i was just rewatching the logan sexed bit earlier and it's so funny how oscar is just like ??? WHAT. and somewhat annoyed at being grilled about it because in his head he's thinking "it's literally just a show title why are you Willfully Misunderstanding me idg why that's so funny to you are you 5." but with lando there's so much less... idk laughing At each other as if there's some big joke one person is missing out on and more just giggling together because oscar thinks every little thing lando says is funny and because they're equally charmed by each other's particularities. like oscar doesn't mind that lando is super fidgety and respects that he has Depths (saying that lando is a mix of sarcastic/dry, excitable, and serious) while lando has joked that oscar is somewhat robotic before but obviously still revels in wheedling genuine reactions out of him :') like you can see from how they get caught up in their little world while in parc fermé or doing their f1 media duties that they're capable of just focusing on Each Other without a care in the world for other people and they aren't talking just to have content for the cameras...

and like again the whole point of f1 is that it's a media circuit that needs overextended drama to survive as a consumable product but in the end neither of them care to sustain these artificial demands because it's just antithetical to their personalities and how their brains operate... their job is literally just car 🏎

also another thing is how people talk about 814 always twinning but what adds even more dimension to it is basically oscar admitting and being conscious of his mirroring lando's expressions 😭 and the fact that he's always choosing him for interview questions/copying his answers during games! like i think it's sooo compelling that oscar unintentionally latched onto lando as a young teenager in the uk and never really strayed from that because you have a very expressive, larger-than-life lando who is prone to being misrepresented because people don't really understand the manifestation of adhd and then level-headed oscar who is also poorly read because he doesn't express himself "conventionally" taking one look at lando and being like Hmmm yes. i'll mold myself after that. and lando being so happy and open to that dynamic 🧡 does it not move u

[girls-alias]

Those Eyes - Dean Winchester

Title: Those Eyes - Dean Winchester

Words: 3,082

Relationship: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Strong language. Angst, sexual tension, masturbation talk, Dom-Sub.

Taglist: @qinnroki @deans-baby-momma @creative-writing92 @lokischickadee @take_it_on_the_run @daisy-the-quake @ilikw @selfdestructionandrhum @globetrotter28

(⬇️ I want this GIF tattooed into my brain 🥵)

God. Dean fucking Winchester has me in a chokehold. I practically drooled over him; all he did was listen to a cop. I need to get ahold of myself. I need some sexual release, there are not enough hours in the day to masturbate enough to be able to function around Dean. When someone asks what my type is, I just start describing Dean. I can't handle being around him and yet I stay with the Winchesters, hunt with them, travel with them. The only time I'm away from Dean is when I'm sleeping but even then he infects my dreams like a parasite, eating away at me and getting me so sexually frustrated I'm in a constant cycle of irritable and submissive for him.

Dean isn't shy about wanting to fuck me, he only seems to look at me like he's undressing me. He controls my breathing and knows it. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I tried to gain control of my own mind. I looked at the cop, trying to listen to him as I crossed my legs over each other to rest my elbow on the chair arm beside me. I gulped as I felt the familiar burning deep in my stomach, I used the only willpower left inside my body to keep my eyes on the cop. I know Dean has his eyes on me, I can always feel it. My breath quickened as my eyes finally wandered to Dean. He was watching me intently. His eyes were slightly hooded, he released his bottom lip from between his teeth as he mischievously smirked at me. I gulped, eyes struggling to return to the cop.

I just need to stay strong just a little longer. Dean's moving caught my eye, he sat back in his seat, his hand pushing on the crotch of his jeans slightly as he widened his legs. I gulped, watching his strong thighs begging me to sit on him. I clenched my jaw, gulping to try and gain some control. I blinked to try to clear my mind. I could still feel Dean's eyes on me. I could feel every atom of my body. I cleared my throat, adjusting my seating position a little nervously. He has so much control over me. To anyone else in the room, he looks innocent, he's just sitting in a chair but Dean and I know his intentions with every movement. His favourite thing in the world seems to be getting a reaction out of me. He does it probably a hundred times a day. I switched my legs so my left leg was now crossed over the right. I chewed on my bottom lip, finally looking at Dean, I could never look away for long. His eyes showed his hunger. His plain expression as his eyes bore into me quickened my breath. His hand sat high on his thigh, and my eyes were magnitised to his tightening grip turning his knuckles white. I gulped as I looked back to his eyes, my breath hitched in my throat as he licked his lips, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth to bite down on it. I gulped as he raised his eyebrows before looking down at his crotch, my eyes following as I knew the look was his way of tempting me to sit on his lap.

I clenched my legs together as wetness pooled in between my thighs. Fuck sake. I cleared my throat as I stood. Everyone's eyes were on me but only Dean's gaze made me quiver. "If you'll excuse me," I commented politely, stealing one last glance at Dean as he smirked watching me intently. I could still feel his eyes on me as I walked out. Finally breathing as soon as I left the room. I'm struggling to even be in a room with him, it's getting out of hand. I'm sick of lying to myself and thinking that maybe this will be the month that he doesn't affect me anymore but 7 months of knowing him later and I'm still waiting for the day he doesn't have control over me. I headed straight for the bathroom. My mission only turned to cleaning myself up and splashing cold water on myself to calm down. Hell, if I find ice on the way there then even better.

Dean's POV:

I held a sigh back as I continued to pretend to be listening for what felt like an hour. I rubbed my eye, adjusting my head to steal a glance at Y/N. I tightened my lips to stop myself from smiling. God, she's perfect. I looked back at the cop, offering a fake smile and nodding. I stared blankly at the cop as my mind wandered to Y/N. Remembering what she looked like from my quick glance. I swear you could look at her from any angle and she'd look fuckable. I turn animalistic when I look at her.

When we first met I thought she was beautiful and dreamed of the cute little life we could have as a couple. I fell in love with her but from a little distance. It was all innocent thoughts, cute things we'd do as a couple and the dates we'd have but one frightful night I figured something out that had bothered me for 3 months. I noticed that any night I masturbated she would always seem a little happier the next day. For 3 months, I thought that it was some "Post-nut clarity" and I was falling deeper in love with her but... The second I heard her moan my name on a random night I was masturbating I realised that we were both masturbating after a day we were alone together. I knew in an instant that you felt the sexual tension too and she also masturbated at the thought of me.

The next morning was the first time I looked at Y/N with hungry eyes the whole day. My only thoughts were all the sexual things we'd probably both already imagined. I could never stop looking at her like that, especially when it was so obvious she was enjoying it. She always clenches her thighs and breaths heavily enough that I can watch her chest and see clearly how heavy she is breathing. I often wonder why I ever wasted time watching TV when all the entertainment I need is her, I just have to sit in this chair and watching her get flustered would be something I could watch for hours.

I glanced over as movement caught my eye. My eyes landed on Y/N's gorgeous legs as she crossed them. From the tightness of her jaw and slightly quick breathing, I know she's starting to get flustered. I smirked as I licked my lips, bringing my bottom lip between my teeth.

I need to be a man to my word, I said I could watch her get flustered just from sitting and staring at her so why not test it out... I turned my shoulders back and stared directly at Y/N. I bit down on my lip, smirking to myself as I noticed her gulp. I feel like a stalker being able to read her so well but she gets flustered in a room with me multiple times a day, of course I have subconsciously memorised it by now. I know she can feel me watching her, she always knows. I continued to stare at her, I could practically predict what was going through her mind, she wanted to look at me.

I dropped my bottom lip from between my teeth, smirking as she finally looked at me and proved me right. I only grew more confident in my ways when she struggled to look back at the cop. It's too easy. God, what I would give just to march up to her right now and kiss her with the force I've been holding back for months. I didn't think I would mess with her this long, normally I mess with a woman for a few hours and then sleep with her but with Y/N, it drives me crazy knowing how much I mess with her, it also drives me crazy knowing that she's masturbating practically every night now because of me. I took a deep breath realising that I had made the mistake of thinking of her masturbating, the small moans I would hear when I was listening carefully, hoping the sound would carry between motel room walls. It's pornographic.

I sat deeper in my seat, pushing down on the crotch of my jeans, my semi-erect penis feeling uncomfortable in the growingly tightening jeans. I continued to study her, watching as her eyes absorbed my movement and new position, I couldn't hold back my smirk as her flustered state became more obvious. I felt my eyes darken as she switched her crossed legs, most likely clenching them, clearly getting wet. God, I don't even need to do anything and she's ready for me. I licked my lips, surveying every inch of her perfect body. What I wouldn't give to have her in arms reach right now. I gripped my thigh, something to stabilise myself while my eyes tore off her clothes.

She found the courage to look at me again, I suggestively looked down into my lap. Something her eyes followed and from the clenching of her thighs I knew without a shadow of a doubt she was wet. I would do anything to feel just how wet I make her. I smirked as she cleared her throat, standing from her seat. She still looked flustered as I bit my lip, watching her. She tried avoiding my eyes but she couldn't for long.

"If you'll excuse me," She stated politely. Glancing at me one last time before turning. I watched as she walked out, her ass being my only focus as she walked. Her body is perfect. What I wouldn't give to feel her sitting on my lap right now.

I should probably bring my attention back to the cop but I just can't take my mind off Y/N, my sweet, horny Y/N. Lost deep in thought, I imagined what she could be doing right now, a huge part of me wondering if she was horny enough to wait until she was back at the motel to relieve herself or if she was "Destressing" in the bathrooms. My mind imagined how she could look right now, picturing her perfect face contorting to the pleasure she was giving herself all because of me, probably thinking about me and what we both hoped I would do to her. God, I need to see her.

I rose from my seat, mind and eyes completely focusing on the task of seeing my Y/N, to know if she was horny enough to do it in the bathroom of a police station. "Dean?" Sam's voice pulled me from my trance. I shook myself out of it, turning back to look at him expectantly. "Where are you going?" He asked, giving me warning eyes towards the cop. I looked over at him curiously, the cop seemed suspicious of me, his eyes showing his uneasiness.

"Bathroom, shouldn't have eaten at the garage on the way," I chuckled, the cop seemed to exhale a chuckle.

"Been there before, it's down the hall and to the left," The cop explained, smiling as he nodded. I forced a smile, turning back to the door and heading out in the directions he had given me.

I stopped outside the bathrooms. The ladies on the right, men on the left and disabled toilets right in the centre. I smirked as rested my weight against the wall just outside the women's bathroom, smirking as I anticipated Y/N coming out soon.

Y/N's POV:

I looked in the mirror, using the paper towels to dry myself off. The cold water seemed to really help, I might actually be able to function at least until I can get back to the motel. I gave myself some motivating words before heading out of the bathroom. I jumped slightly as I rounded the corner of the door frame. Hands instantly on my arms as I walked into someone. I was about to apologise and move aside but as I looked at Dean I knew he was messing with me even more. The smirk on his face made it as clear as day. I took a deep breath, rolling my eyes slightly. I stepped out of his grasp.

"You're waiting for me outside of the bathrooms now?" I asked, my tone showing annoyance but my insides giddy to be close to him.

"Don't get too cocky, I wasn't waiting for you," He tried but I scoffed.

"Oh, okay," I sarcastically commented. "So, you were just waiting for the fun of it?" I asked, internally trying to stay brave as he looked at me with those eyes, the perfectly green eyes that always look at me with the deepest desire to get me naked. His smirk and wandering eyes were only confirmation in my mind that he had somehow worked out how to see through my clothes, I've never known anyone to have so much expression in just their eyes, it drives me crazy and he seems to know it.

"I'm waiting for the bathroom, sweetheart." He started, his lips momentarily hypnotizing me. His lips begged to be kissed but his smirk begged to be slapped off his face. "But since you're waiting here with me, you might as well join me," He tempted. My breath caught in my throat as he took a small but intentional step closer to me. I gulped as I took a step back, anything to try and hide how much he affects me. His widening smirk confirmed that my act was compromised.

"You want me to believe you're just waiting for-" I started but bit my tongue when a lock clicked behind me. I froze in place as Dean smirked cockily at me. His eyes never deviated from mine. I internally sighed as the guy coming out of the bathroom passed us. "Whatever," I commented, I stepped around Dean to pass him but his hand found my waist as he pulled me into the bathroom. I stumbled to stay standing. The second we were both in the bathroom he held me against the wall and clicked the lock shut. I breathed heavily, adrenaline cursing my veins as I looked up into his hungry eyes. Gulping as he licked his lips.

He stared at my lips as he bit his own, Is he finally going to kiss me? Kiss me! I stood frozen, my back against the wall and Dean's hand still on my waist. He moved closer, his body practically touching mine. His smirk grew as he looked into my eyes. He lifted his chin, lips moving even closer to mine as my chest rose and fell quickly.

"You're practically begging me to kiss you," His voice was low and dowsed in desire. I gasped as his free hand moved to my face, softly touching my cheek as his thumb moved over my lip, folding my bottom lip down as he watched intently. I held my breath, unable to function. He's moved from messing with me to actually touching me. "You-" Dean sighed as his phone ringing interrupted him. He pulled his hands from me to answer his phone, and I took the time to finally breathe again. He hadn't moved away from me, I'm still pinned to the wall.

"Yeah," Dean answered, his eyes instantly on me again. I gulped as he studied me closely. His hand came back up to my face. My breath quivered as he grabbed my chin and lifted my face to look at me closer. His lips are an inch from mine. "I don't know where she is, probably still in the bathroom," He commented, clearly talking to Sam. "Yeah, if I see her, I'll tell her," He added before hanging up. He licked his lips, barely missing mine with his tongue as he did it. He put his phone in his pocket, his eyes peering into mine. "Sam's waiting at the Impala," He added, his tone showing his disinterest. He smirked as I remained frozen, my eyes travelling to the lips an inch from mine, the lips I wished would kiss me. I bit my lip, my mind filling with imagining the kiss, the taste and the passion. He smirked as he watched me bite my lip. "Get out," He stated simply as he dropped my chin from his grasp. I looked at him confused, baffled at the sudden change in mood. He moved aside, unlocking the door but not opening it. He stood behind the door watching me expectantly.

I scoffed, shaking my head as I grabbed the handle ready to storm out annoyed. Fucking Dean, he's always messing with me and he doesn't even want me. I jumped as the door now slightly open door slammed in my face, his hands instantly pushing me back to the wall. He pinned me between his body and the wall. His hand on the side of my neck and the other on my lower back pulling me into his body. Breathing right now wasn't an option. "Don't lock your motel room later," He instructed, his intentions clear. "Got it?" He asked the look in his eyes making me quiver. I nodded quickly, and he smirked as he admired me. "Good," He stated simply before slapping my ass. I gasped at the unexpected action. His smirk turned to a grin at my reaction. "See you in the car," He added, his hand moving from my neck to open the door for me, his other hand still holding me close.

I gulped, my brain fighting my body. I need to move but I don't know if I have the willpower to walk out of his grasp. His grin was mischievous as he seemed to read my mind but didn't move. He looked deep into my eyes. He knows exactly what he's doing to me. I took a deep breath, establishing myself before prying myself away from him. I walked out, mentally reminding myself not to look back at him. I sighed as I couldn't help but look back just before he was out of view. His smirk and studying eyes made my legs weak.

What the fuck? What just happened?

Part 2

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[luvlyycy]

this was supposed to be short but i got carried away my apologies.. alsooooooo <3 @seneon I REMEMBERED TO TAG YEWWW . girly girl x dirtbag dabi (real.) [also no smut in this but its suggestive]

you don't know how you got into this fuckass college with these fuckass people— there's the honor students and then there's the people your friends tell you to stay away from. one of those people is dabi.

you have to stay away from dabi. you know there's rumors about him selling drugs, not that you believe them— but he has a terrible rep. not from girls but from guys— girls fucking love him.

"hi dabi!" you exclaim as you enter his dorm room, skipping over to his bed, the skirt of your dress bouncing as you do so. dabi's on his phone, laying on his back, "hi, princess." he yawns, "whatcha up to?" he asks.

"nothin', is tomu here?" you ask as you sit next to him, kicking off your shoes with ease before laying beside him. you admit, following rules wasn't your strong suit, so staying away from his kind of crowd was incredibly hard. plus, they all treated you like a princess— what girl wouldn't like that?

he puts his arm around you, clicking the power button on the side of his phone to put it to sleep, "he's out buying food with keigo. jus' you and me." he smiles lopsidedly as he looks at your breasts- face, he looks at your face.

"you look pretty today." he hums, as his hand runs down on your back, tickling you.

you giggle, finger running along the tattoo on his cheek, "tomura was supposed to take me to the mall today. i guess he forgot."

dabi just stares at you, "you coulda asked me."

"yeah, but you're always busy." you huff out, nuzzling into his side.

he's busy unless you ask him to do something. he frowns.

"whatever, princess."

he watches you curl further into his embrace, maybe you were just cold.

"dabi. i've been soooo lonely these past few days.. tomura keeps bailing on me. keigo doesn't wanna hang with me anymore.. you're the only one who cares." you whine into his side, breathing in the smokey smell of his ripped black tanktop.

he always smelled good to you.

"oh yeah? what do ya want me to do it about it?" he laughs at your antics. spoiled brat. you always know how to get what you want— from tomura, keigo, atsuhiro, and even jin. tomura was the easiest.

"want you tooo..." you trail off, fingers dipping underneath his shirt to rub against his abdomen, "show me how much you care.".

brat, he thinks.

"aww, spoiled little thing can't function without attention." he chuckles out, leaning upwards so his other hand can grab your jaw, "right?".

you nod with a soft 'mhm', dabi says a quick 'right' in response. he presses his lips to yours, he feels your lipgloss transfer to his lips— getting smudged all over yours as well.

he pulls away to look at your cute face, always so flustered after he kisses you. "come here, on top." you obey, sitting prettily atop his lap as he squeezes your side— his other hand caressing your face, "so pretty. i'm the only one who cares about you so much." he's feeding into your little delusion, you know that, but hearing it from him makes your brain stop functioning.

he sits up, still holding you on his lap arms wrapping around your waist to hold you impossibly close, "i'm the only one you can count on. to give you rides, buy you clothes, make you food— i'm the only one, yeah?" you nod, "nobody can treat you like i can, can they, baby?" you nod again.

"come here n' kiss me."

"okay.." you sigh, placing your lips on his— his lip ring poking your lips but you don't mind. kissing him feels so good, it's like he knows everything about your body perfectly. he knows you more than he knows himself. his hands slip underneath your dress, settling on your ass.

he pulls away to look at you, "poor baby." he smiles.

you barely notice the door opening— keigo letting out an exaggerated groan, "honey, we're hooome."

tomura sighs, "i forgot to take you shopping didn't i?" he frowns as he steps over to you, tossing a bag on dabi's bed, only for you to cling onto dabi tighter.

"no! dabi's g'nna take me out now." you huff, nuzzling your face into the crook of dabi's neck, "right, dabi?".

dabi laughs when he sees tomura's upset face and keigo holding back a laugh, but he could never say no to you.

"yeah, that's right, princess."

[unidentified-moe-object]

Fuck it, it's late, and I wanna go to sleep, but I probably won't be able to until I've properly articulated this somewhat batshit gender social theory I've been rotating in my mind for a while now - I think that the current "crisis of masculinity" in the western world was catalysed by the invention of the nuclear bomb. Note that this post is unfiltered, unedited brain noise and bullshit

So, essentially, traditionally masculine personality traits are good for being a hunter or a soldier, but they kinda suck for anything else. If you want to, like, function in modern society, traditonally feminine personality traits are much better for that. This is why we see, for example, girls consistently outperforming boys in schools these days.

Now, in ye olde days(tm), society actually needed to have 50% of the population as potential soldiers to throw into a meatgrinder for a few square miles of dirt every 20 or so years. But at the end of WW2, the nuclear bomb was invented, and suddenly great power conflicts are something that no-one can win and are to absolutely be avoided at all costs.

So, given that a proper great power conflict will probably cause the extinction of humanity, society doesn't really need to have that many soldiers anymore. But people still haven't gotten the memo yet, and are still conditioning half of the population into soldiers from birth. And what do soldiers do when they don't have a war to fight? The recurring historical problem is that a lot of them become bandits.

The only real solution to this is *wesker voice* complete global feminisation. That is to say, the abandonment of traditionally masculine personality traits and the embrace of traditionally feminine ones. So long as we remain shackled to the corpse of masculinity, we'll never be able to move forward. This will likely be a very slow process, taking place over the course of hundreds of years and not being complete until long after anyone reading this post is dead, because frankly like 95% of people - man or woman - do not want this to happen, they want men to continue being traditionally masculine. There's a lot of societal inertia that has gotten us into this mess. This change will only happen as, gradually, over the course of many generations, people stop wanting that.

Notes:

This is one of the things that frustrates me about reactionary masculine gender influencers. By trying to bring about a great masculine revival and encouraging men to be more masculine, they are harming the very people they claim to represent, they are encouraging people to become more maladapted to the society they live in, whereas becoming more feminine would be becoming better-adapted

Japan might be a bit ahead of us here. Feminine traits in men are depicted as positive and even romantically desirable in a way you just don't see in English-language works. I suspect that if an English-language writer were to try to do that it'd come off as kinda preachy, as if they were trying to convince *themselves* to be attracted to those traits. Whereas Japanese-language writers don't need to do that because they genuinely do find it attractive.

Alright, actually going to bed now