#big fan of him hes so odd and silly

[orionis13]

Finals have been kicking my ass (badly) HOWEVER! You may have these warmup/cooldown sillies you will never guess what my roommate and I have been reading lately

[gaydogmarriage]

alhaitham is such a lying liar who lies dude. acting like he and the sumeru boys gang have always been besties since forever. "that's how it's always been with the four of us" - man who has barely spoken to most of these people before he decided to team up with them to overthrow the government and regularly skips social gatherings with them. yeah right buddy ok

[bjlipss]

— bug, part v.

contents: college!sukuna x weird!reader. weird as in just odd and confusing behaviour but nonetheless cute, nothing pervy-weird. reader wears glasses because yes. really awkward and silly hehe. also there is a use of “girlfriend” in here so ig fem reader should be mentioned.

part iv <- part v -> part vi

you are both in the library.

not because either of you are studying. not really.

you’re curled up in one of the weird, saggy armchairs near the back—hoodie too big, socked feet tucked under you, notebook propped awkwardly on your knees. you’re not even pretending to do anything academic. your textbook’s open on the table beside you, forgotten, while you scribble doodles into the margins of your notes like it’s a commissioned masterpiece.

there’s a frog with a sword. a duck in sunglasses. something that might be a hedgehog in a cape.

you’re also humming. low and wandering. not a tune he recognizes, and maybe you don’t either—you keep shifting the melody halfway through, then giggling softly to yourself like your brain changed channels mid-song.

sukuna’s sitting across from you, textbook cracked open on his lap, posture loose and lazy like he’s got all the time in the world. and technically, he does. he’s already skimmed the chapter. already skimmed the quiz. already skimmed three possible excuses to ditch group work next week.

but he’s not looking at the page.

he’s watching you.

he doesn’t even realize it at first—how long he’s been staring. how quiet he’s gotten.

your hair’s a mess. your glasses keep slipping down your nose. you’ve chewed halfway through your pen cap, and your shoelaces are still untied from this morning. and you’re not even trying to be quiet—just softly off in your own world, like it never occurs to you to shrink yourself down.

and somehow, he doesn’t want you to.

he glances down at his notes. blinks. tries to focus.

then looks at you again.

you’re drawing something new now. a little bat with cartoonishly huge eyes and a speech bubble that says “i crave blood and validation.”

his lips twitch before he can stop them.

you notice.

your gaze flicks up—quick, sharp. “what?”

his mouth opens.

and then he says, too fast, “you wanna come to my game?”

you blink.

“…what game?”

he clears his throat. suddenly, very interested in the pattern of the wood grain on the table.

“basketball. tomorrow night. we’re playing against southfield.”

you tilt your head, curious. “are they the ones with the scary mascot?”

“…it’s a goose.”

“yeah. terrifying.”

he huffs a laugh, soft and embarrassed. rubs the back of his neck. “you don’t have to or whatever. i just—figured you’d like it. it gets loud. chaotic. you like loud shit.”

you grin.

“okay.”

he blinks. “yeah?”

you nod. “i’ll bring a sign. and confetti. maybe a kazoo.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “jesus. please don’t bring a kazoo.”

you lean forward, eyes bright. “you can’t stop me.”

he rolls his eyes, fighting a smile, and you go back to your doodles like he didn’t just invite you into his world a little bit. like it’s easy. like it means something.

—

the gym is packed. humid and echoey and full of noise.

the bleachers are overflowing. the ref’s whistle shrieks every two minutes. the other team’s fans are booing already, and someone spilled nachos on the court.

and you’re there.

front row. bouncing in your seat. wearing his hoodie—his actual hoodie, which he only lent you as a joke and immediately regretted because you looked so stupidly happy to wear it.

you wave when you see him jog out with his team, hands cupped around your mouth.

“GO SUKUNA! BREAK THEIR LEGS! OR RULES! OR BOTH!”

he snorts. tries not to smile. fails.

his teammates elbow him, whisper stuff, smirk, but he doesn’t care. not when you’re waving that crooked sign you made with sparkly markers and duct tape that says “#1 BASKETBALL MENACE” with what appears to be a drawing of him dunking a goose.

the game itself is rough. fast. brutal.

southfield’s team is good—long-legged and sharp-elbowed and fast on the rebounds—but sukuna’s better. faster. meaner. he scores three baskets in the second half alone. when he shoves past their point guard to land the final shot, the whole gym explodes.

they win by four points.

the whistle blows.

the crowd surges to its feet.

and then—before he can even breathe—you’re there.

you leap over the bleachers like it’s a war zone, stumbling slightly but recovering fast, and run straight to him across the court, absolutely beaming.

“THAT WAS AMAZING,” you shout, grabbing his arm with both hands. “you did that spinny jump thing! and then the swoosh! and then you yelled at the ref—oh my god, that was so hot—”

he blinks down at you, flushed and sweaty and grinning so wide his face might crack.

“you don’t know anything about basketball,” he points out, a little breathless.

you shake your head violently. “nope! not a clue!”

“you just called a layup a ‘spinny jump thing.’”

“yeah! and it was the coolest shit i’ve ever seen!”

he laughs. actually laughs. the sound cracks right out of him—bright and sharp and real. and you’re still holding his arm, squeezing it like it’s the only thing anchoring you.

he hesitates.

then says, quiet, “you wanna come over later?”

you blink. “like. to your dorm?”

“i can… tell you about the game. the rules. what the spinny jump thing’s actually called.”

you light up like he just offered you front-row seats to the moon.

“yes. absolutely. teach me all the ball lore.”

he snorts. “never say that again.”

“no promises.”

and then you’re walking beside him through the crowd, still rambling, still glowing, and he can’t help it—his hand reaches up, gentle and automatic, to push your glasses up your nose where they’ve slid halfway down again.

you blink, startled.

then beam at him.

and he reaches up again—this time to ruffle your hair, fingers combing through the mess like it’s something he’s allowed to touch.

you lean into it without thinking.

and somewhere in the blur of noise and sweat and laughter, he realizes:

you’re his favorite win tonight.

—

his dorm isn’t as much of a mess as you expected.

a little cluttered, yeah—hoodies draped over his desk chair, empty water bottles on the windowsill, a pair of sneakers half-kicked under the bed—but it smells clean. woodsy. like laundry detergent and something sharp underneath that’s just him.

you step inside, slow and curious, still holding the bag of vending machine snacks he insisted you didn’t need to bring.

“so this is the lair of the basketball menace,” you hum, peeking at his bookshelf. “i expected more… chaos. broken trophies. claw marks on the wall.”

he snorts, toeing the door shut behind you. “those are in my evil backup dorm.”

“ah. the one in hell.”

he chuckles, shaking his head, and crosses the room to yank a hoodie off his desk chair and toss it onto his bed. you settle into the chair without waiting for permission, crossing your legs and tearing open a packet of sour candy.

he raises an eyebrow. “that’s my chair.”

you grin. “i’m your guest. this is diplomacy.”

he doesn’t argue—just walks over and sits on the bed instead, close enough that your knees brush against his when he leans forward to grab a bottle of water.

“so,” you say, mouth full of sugar, “tell me the basketball secrets. what was that thing where you jumped like a frog and then spun like a gremlin and then landed like a swan?”

he stares at you.

“…a layup.”

“bless you.”

he huffs a laugh, dropping his head into his hands for a second like he needs to gather strength. “okay. alright. lesson one: do not describe sports like they’re cryptid mating rituals.”

“but that’s my only frame of reference.”

he throws a piece of candy at you. you catch it in your mouth with a triumphant squeak.

“focus,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “basketball. it’s about coordination. spacing. control. and momentum. you don’t just run around like an idiot trying to get the ball in.”

you tilt your head. “so it’s like murder chess. but fast.”

“jesus christ.”

“you’re doing great.”

he glares. but it’s a soft glare, the kind he aims at you more often now. like he’s not really mad. like he doesn’t know how to be.

he shifts on the bed, legs stretching out a little, one knee knocking gently against yours again.

you don’t move away.

“okay,” he says, quieter this time. “you saw when i blocked that guy at the end, right? that’s called a charge. you plant your feet, and if they run into you, it’s a foul on them.”

“ohh,” you nod, thoughtful. “so you baited him.”

“kind of.”

“like psychological warfare.”

he sighs. “sure.”

“can you teach me that?”

he looks up. “what?”

“the foot thing. the standing-your-ground move.” you gesture vaguely with your half-empty candy bag. “i’d like to charge people in my life. for crimes.”

“you’d fall over.”

“not if you believe in me.”

he laughs again—more like a puff of breath this time, shaking his head like he’s trying to hide how fond it sounds.

“i’ll teach you,” he mutters.

you beam.

for a moment, the room goes quiet—soft and buzzing and still. the lights are dim. the windows cracked open. your socked foot nudges against his again, deliberate this time, and he doesn’t pull away.

he watches you—really watches you. the way your glasses have slid halfway down your nose again. the way your hoodie sleeves have swallowed your hands. the way your smile hasn’t left since the moment you walked in.

“you’re happy,” he says quietly.

you blink. glance up at him. “of course i’m happy.”

“…why?”

you look at him like it’s obvious.

“because you invited me.”

he opens his mouth. closes it.

because he’s not used to that answer.

not used to people being happy just to be where he is. not without expecting something back. not without reading into it. not without laughing or pushing or prying.

you twist around in the chair a little, knee brushing his again, closer this time. “also, i got to yell about your legs in public, so. that was cathartic.”

he groans.

you laugh.

and then—softly, almost like you don’t realize you’re doing it—you reach forward. one hand, hesitant, rising to brush at his forehead, where it’s still a little damp with cool sweat. your fingers graze his temple.

“you’re sweaty,” you murmur, nose wrinkling.

he raises an eyebrow. “you ran to me.”

“yeah, because you were dazzling. like a sports anime protagonist.”

he laughs, quiet and helpless.

and then he reaches out, just as softly, and pushes your glasses up again where they’ve started to slip.

your breath catches.

and his hand lingers—just for a second—his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek.

then he pulls away.

you don’t say anything.

you just smile again—smaller this time, softer. and then you fold yourself into the chair, arms wrapped around your knees, and mumble, “i like it here.”

he leans back on his palms, still watching you. cute, his mind screams, as you spin around like a little kid.

—

it starts normal.

as normal as anything gets with you, anyway.

you’re flopped sideways on his bed like you live there, half under his blanket even though you insisted you weren’t cold. the game’s playing on his laptop, volume low, light flickering against the walls. he’s sitting beside you, legs on the floor, back to the edge of the mattress, trying to explain what a pick and roll is without dying of secondhand embarrassment.

you are, predictably, not paying attention.

“what if,” you murmur, chewing on a piece of candy you found in your pocket, “instead of doing basketball, they just kissed in the middle of the court?”

he doesn’t turn around. “they’d get fouled.”

“for passion?”

“for being weird.”

“bold of you to assume that wouldn’t raise morale.”

he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

and then your fingers find his hair.

slow. absent. like you didn’t mean to. like your hand just drifted down from the blanket and landed there, right against the back of his head, where his hair’s still a little messy from earlier.

you comb your fingers through it once. twice.

and then you go still.

he does, too.

his mouth goes dry. his heartbeat spikes.

you’ve touched him before—high fives, shoulder bumps, the flower behind the ear thing, even his hair a bit ago—but this is different. slower. deliberate. intimate.

and worse—you don’t move.

“you okay?” he says, voice too low, too tight.

“…mhm.”

he swears he can hear your smile.

and then, as if that wasn’t enough, you shift. twist around. and lean into him from behind—your chin resting right at the curve of his shoulder, your weight warm against his back, like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

he straightens like he’s been electrocuted.

you don’t even flinch. just murmur, “comfy,” like that explains it.

his whole body’s locked up. tense. pulsing. his brain’s screaming at him to move, to shake you off, to tell you you’re invading his space and messing with his head and ruining him—but—

but you’re so soft.

and warm.

and he can feel your breath against his neck, feel the weight of you slouched against his back like you trust him enough to fall asleep there.

his hands curl into fists.

“…this is illegal,” he mutters.

“mm?” your voice is all syrup.

“this is a crime.”

you hum, noncommittal. “you’re warm.”

he covers his face with both hands. “you’re going to kill me.”

you don’t answer.

and when he turns, just slightly, he realizes—

you’re already asleep.

your face tucked into the crook of his shoulder. your glasses slipping crookedly down your nose. your breathing slow and steady and peaceful, like you didn’t just turn his entire bloodstream into static and curl up on him like a goddamn cat.

he exhales, long and quiet.

his hands hover awkwardly in the air for a second—unsure, unsteady—and then he reaches up and gently adjusts your glasses, sliding them off and placing them on the nightstand with shaking fingers.

then, hesitantly, he leans back into the bed. just a little. just enough so you’re not tilted.

just enough that you stay.

and he stares at the screen, watching the players run back and forth, hearing the echo of your earlier nonsense—

they should kiss for morale.

—and he lets out a breathless, silent laugh.

then slowly, very carefully, he lets his head tilt back against yours.

—

you wake up before he does.

not on purpose.

you’re just used to strange hours and uneven sleep, and the light coming in through his blinds is warm and gold and soft on your face. you shift a little, nose scrunching, and when you register the steady, heavy rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, you freeze.

oh.

you’re still curled up on him.

very much wrapped around him.

very much drooling on the shoulder of his hoodie.

you lift your head slowly, blinking blearily. his arms are crossed over his chest, his jaw tilted slightly to the side, his brows a little furrowed even in sleep. like he’s suspicious in his dreams. his hair’s messy again, spiked worse than yesterday, one piece sticking up at an impossible angle.

he looks unfairly good.

annoying.

you shift again, trying not to wake him, and nearly fall backwards off the bed.

his hand shoots out, grabs your wrist without opening his eyes.

“don’t,” he mumbles.

you blink.

“…don’t what?”

“fall off and die. s’too early.”

your mouth twitches.

“oh? you care?” you whisper dramatically.

he grunts. doesn’t answer.

you scoot closer again, pressing your cheek back to his chest with a little huff. “you’re grumpy in the morning.”

“you never shut up,” he mutters.

“mm, false,” you say cheerfully. “i’m just excited to be alive.”

he groans.

you go quiet for a minute. a soft kind of quiet, like the hush after a snowstorm. the game on the laptop has long since ended. the blanket’s mostly fallen to the floor. everything feels slow and syrupy and safe.

you poke his arm.

he doesn’t react.

you poke it again. harder.

“i know you’re awake,” you sing.

no response.

“sukunaaaaa.”

nothing.

“sukunaaa, do you want to hear about my dream?”

his eyes crack open just enough to glare at you. “if it involves centipedes again, i’m leaving the country.”

you gasp. “how dare— it was butterflies this time, thank you very much. and one of them had your face.”

he blinks at you.

“…what the fuck.”

you grin.

he sighs, long-suffering, but there’s the faintest curl of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. like he’s trying to be annoyed. like he wants to be annoyed. but he can’t, not really. not when you’re looking at him like that. like he hung the sun. like this little morning moment matters.

“…hey,” you murmur, suddenly a little shy. “thanks for letting me stay. i didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

he stares at you. your sleep-mussed hair. your socked feet dangling over the side of the bed. the sleepy blush on your cheeks.

he reaches out. flicks you lightly between the eyes.

“you’re annoying,” he says. quiet. fond.

you beam. “you love it.”

he doesn’t answer.

he doesn’t have to.

because a second later, you’re back under the blanket again, leaning into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world—and he’s letting you, tucking you there with one arm, no complaints, no snide comments.

just soft breathing. and the sound of your heartbeat. and the golden hush of morning.

[lightsoutletsgo]

pretty girl — op.81 (18+)

pairing: oscar piastri x plus-size!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: 18+ !! body insecurity, SMUT SMUT SMUT, ABSOLUTE UTTER FILTH; spanking, use of 'sir', creampie x 2 (don’t be silly, wrap ur willy !!), oscar eating you out after cumming inside you, squirting, light choking, Oscar has an obsession with calling you angel, wayyyyy too many pet names @jamminvroomvroom I'm not sorry in the slightest jas 🤭 enjoy! mwah ₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:･

You weren’t sure how it had started. Maybe it was the pressure online. Maybe it was the ‘fans’. Maybe it was just your own damn mind, but something was eating away at you. It wasn’t Oscar though. Never Oscar. He loved you to no end, treated you like royalty, looked at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky and created the moon with your own hands. 

But sometimes even Oscar’s adoration and affection couldn’t stop the voices in your head from creeping in and planting the seeds of lies in your head; ‘he could do so much better’, ‘you’re not enough’, ‘you need to be better’, ‘you’re not worth his time’, ‘he’s with you out of sympathy’. 

You pulled up your t-shirt and stared at your underwear-clad body. You frowned and glared at your reflection in the mirror, before poking your stomach once again. You turned to the side and noticed how much bigger your thighs were than they had been a few months ago. Your eyes were drawn to the stretch marks that decorated your hips and upper legs, courtesy of your body growing too quickly to keep up with itself. You spotted every single speck of cellulite or mark that made your body look imperfect. 

You looked disgusting. 

At least that’s how you felt. 

You hadn’t always felt like this either. Once, there had been a time when you loved your body, your curves and all of your flaws. But dating a professional athlete, especially one as visually perfect as Oscar, meant you were prone to hate. It had started with a few small comments, that eventually grew into a whole flood of messages and abuse that just got too much. You had let it get to you.

You weren’t yourself anymore. Even you could see that. You didn’t smile as much anymore, and when you did, the smiles weren’t real. They were fake. You felt like you were living from one day to the next, not sure when you woke up the next morning whether you were thankful for that or not. You hardly left the house anymore. Your friends all seemed like the flawless poster girls and you were the odd one out. You’d even begun to push Oscar away from you, instead choosing to lock yourself away. 

Skipping meals had become a regular habit and it was no longer uncommon for you to spend up to twelve hours a week in the gym. It wasn’t just your weight and figure though. When you were out with Oscar you didn’t feel like you looked good enough to be able to stand next to him, let alone hold his hand and walk with him through the paddock in front of all those cameras. Today was day three of you being completely incommunicado with the outside world, and Oscar was worried about you. He had called you and texted you but there was no answer. He called your friends who all said that they too were worried and hadn’t had any answer from you. 

So there you stood in your underwear wearing one of the few of Oscar’s oversized t-shirts that fitted you, pulled up to your chin whilst you inspected and scrutinised your body. You hadn’t noticed the front door unlock, or heard the footsteps coming down the hallway. You heard your bedroom door open and you turned to see Oscar. He visibly exhaled as he saw that you were okay. But then he noticed. How red and puffy your eyes were from crying and how big the dark bags that lined your eyes were from lack of sleep. He slowly made his way across the room to stand in front of you.

You looked down at the floor unable to make eye contact. You felt embarrassed that he was seeing you in this state. You attempted to pull his t-shirt down to cover your thighs as you felt his gaze travel up and down your body. He grabbed your wrist, and brought it up to his lip as he kissed the inside of your wrist. He gently kissed up your arm and over your shoulder before kissing along your collarbones and up your neck. He stopped once he got to your lips and pulled back to look you in the eyes. His heart broke as he watched one single tear trickle down your face and then another and another until eventually your whole body was wracking with convulsive sobs. He pulled you into his chest tightly and held you close. 

Neither of you were sure how long you stood there for, but that didn’t matter. In that moment, all you needed was him, and he was more than happy to provide the comfort you needed. Once your crying had subsided he led you to the bed. You both led down, his arms wrapped around you as you led on his chest. “Y/N?” He said gently, rubbing his hand up and down your arm to help soothe you. “Yeah?” You said sniffling and snuggling into him more. “You know that I love you more than anything right?” He said, staring down at you and kissing the top of your head. You gave a weak scoff, “Yeah right…” Oscar squeezed you tight “I do!” You pulled away from him and sat up “Why?” “Because-“ He started, “Because I’ll tell you why you shouldn’t. I’m disgusting Oscar. I’m fat, I have stretch marks and my thighs are covered in cellulite. I don’t deserve you Osc can’t you see that? Your fans hate me and it’s making me hate myself!” You finished, slightly out of breath and you felt a new wave of tears fall from your eyes. Oscar sat up so you were sitting opposite each other. “Stop.” He commanded, “I don’t wanna hear anymore of that.” He spoke almost angrily; you looked up at him to meet his gaze. He looked like he was about to cry too, “You’re beautiful, angel, can’t you see that?” He said his voice cracking as he reached for your hands, “So what if you’re squishy? I love that about you.” You frowned; slightly confused that this was your boyfriend’s attempt to comfort you. 

“Angel, I will call you squishy and you will be mine, and you will be my squishy!” He said, quoting Finding Nemo as he squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout. You giggled at your boyfriend and he smiled, “I don’t care what my ‘fans’ say, they’re not in this relationship, it’s me and you. Your weight doesn’t matter to me. So what if you have larger hips? It just means there’s more of you to love. Plus…” he trailed off for a moment, hands moving down to squeeze your hips, “you aren’t gonna break if things get a little... rough.” He said winking at you. “Stretch marks and cellulite? Angel, you aren’t the only one who has them. Honestly you’re stunning baby.” His compliments made you look down but you smiled slightly, touched by his words.

“See, your smile is beautiful!” He said, gently lifting your chin back up to look at him. “Babe, I also know that you’ve been skipping meals, so how about we order some pizza and watch Finding Nemo?” he suggested, you nodded before leaning up to connect your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Oscar?” You said, as you broke apart, leaning your foreheads together. “Hmmm?” “Thank you.” You said sincerely before he pulled you onto his lap and began to kiss you again, his hands gently creeping underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Oh well… The pizza could wait.

You sighed into his mouth as he gently bit your bottom lip, pulling away and tugging as his eyes darkened. “Need to see you angel… fuck please?” You nodded shyly, hands slowly dropping to the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing as Oscar’s hand comfortingly rubbed your thighs, tracing gentle circles with his thumbs. You hadn’t had sex in a while. Too terrified to let him see your body and too worried about your insecurities. The last time you’d slept together you’d asked to leave the lights off and keep your t-shirt on. Oscar had been confused and he had obliged then - but no more. He was determined to show you just how damn sexy he found you. 

Oscar noticed your hesitation. “Hold on angel” He pulled away from you slightly to pull his t-shirt over his head. “Look at my back.” He turned and sat facing away from you as your hands delicately traced over the slightly raised zigzag marks that stretched over his back and shoulders… They looked similar to the marks on your stomach and hips that haunted you. “Y-you have them too?” Your voice was quiet and timid as Oscar gave a soft smile, nodding his head, “I went through a pretty quick growth spurt when I was in school and then another one when I got into F2… I always hated looking at them too… until I realised that they were a part of my body and a part of my story of how I’d grown, become stronger, learned what my body could do and what I was capable of.” Your eyes filled with tears as he turned back to face you, “Do you love me any less now you’ve seen them?” 

You shook your head furiously, “Of course not!” “Then why do you hate them so much when you see them on yourself? Do you think I love you any less just because you have them?” Your eyes filled with tears once more as he slowly pushed you to lie down on the bed, crawling on top of you.“Because let me tell you angel… whenever I see them…” His hands dropped to the hem of your t-shirt, sliding it up to expose your hips and panties “They make me feel…” He leaned down to press kisses to the lines across your hips between each word,“ So” kiss “fucking’” kiss, “feral…” 

“Your cute tummy?” He paused to blow raspberries on your soft stomach making you squeal with laughter “adorable!” “Your thighs…” He moved back down slightly to bite at them, making your back arch and a soft moan tumble from your lips. “I think about having them wrapped around my head about 7 times a day… and fuck angel…” He slid his hands underneath your ass and squeezed, “This ass? Might just take the title of world’s best ass…” You giggled as you reach down to cup his face,

“Actually baby I’m pretty sure that title belongs to Bottas” He moved up your body and paused as he thought for a moment before nodding, “True…” He nodded jokingly before leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. He left hot open mouth kisses against your neck and collarbones, making you squirm and let out breathy moans. Distracted by how good he was making you feel, you didn’t realise his hands were moving your t-shirt up until he sat you up slightly to pull it over your head.

You fell back against the sheets wearing just your panties as Oscar knelt over you, you heard him inhale through his teeth as he drank in the sight of your soft, plush body in his bed, “Wanna take you so badly angel…” His hands were everywhere as he grabbed your hips, your thighs, your ass, your breasts. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. “Touch me please Osc” He stared down at you, smirking slightly, “Where do you want me to touch you angel?” Your face grew hot and your heart rate sped up. You knew what he wanted you to say. Even after this long it still flustered you. “Want you t-to touch m-my pussy… p-please.” He cooed at you as his hand stroked your cheek, “Good girl…” One hand dropped to your pussy as he pushed your panties to one side, a single finger trailing up your slit, collecting the arousal already dripping out of you, finger moving to his mouth in an effort to tease you - it worked.You whined and shook your hips impatiently as he chuckled lowly, “I’ve got you sweet girl…” His fingers moved back to your entrance, slowly pushing one in as more needy whines tumbled from your mouth, “Please Oscar, want it, need it!” He smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your mound, “Fuck you’re such a good girl, you know that right? My. good. girl.” He emphasised each word with a curl of his fingers to graze against your g-spot. “Oscar- Sir!” He growled at your use of that specific title and pushed another finger in, head falling back in a silent moan at how tight you feel around his fingers. “You’re so needy for me angel, hmmm?” He pouted in mock sympathy, “s’okay baby I’ll take care of you.” 

He leant over your torso, softly kissing your breasts and leaving pretty red and purple marks to decorate your chest along with your stretch marks, “So fucking pretty… should be in a museum or a gallery…” he mumbled as he admired his artwork, your arms moving to wrap around his neck, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. Your hips bucked up into his hand as he continued to thrust his fingers into your pussy, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit. He paused for a moment, growling at the way your panties got in the way “Oscar!” you exclaimed as he ripped them off of you, “I‘ll buy you some new ones angel, it’s fine…” He quickly pushed his fingers back into your tight hole as you felt a warm sensation growing in your lower stomach. 

“That feeling good pretty girl?” He crooned down at you almost condescendingly as his fingers sped up. Breathy moans and whiney pants were all that left your mouth as you could feel yourself climbing higher towards that peak, the coil in your stomach threatening to burst. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet angel” Oscar growled above you, “Fuck! Oscar-” you wailed out as he leant down to bite your neck, teeth nipping, sure to leave a mark. “You’re mine angel… my pretty girl…” Those words were the last push you needed as you felt your orgasm explode. Your eyes shut tightly as your legs tensed up, thighs closing and locking Oscar’s hand between them. He chuckled at your out-of-breath form and pressed soft kisses to your hairline as he calmed you down, gently praising you. “Such a good girl, you’re so beautiful angel, love you so much…” You smiled up at him, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down to meet your lips, hot and passionate. “Want you inside me Oscar please!” You mumbled against his lips, he pulled back, stripping his lower half of his sweats and underwear, “Course angel... “ Your head tilted to one side in confusion when you saw him lie down next to you on the bed. He patted his thighs, “Want you to ride me pretty girl, wanna see my gorgeous girl on top of me.” You faltered as you heard his words, “I don’t know Osc I-” “Y/N,” he sat up suddenly, the use of your name showing you he was serious, “I want you to do this… Not just for me but for you too. You’re perfect my love… I love you because of who you are as a person. Your insanely hot body is just a bonus…” He grabbed your hands, gently helping you straddle his thighs. “So… come and take what’s yours angel…”

You climbed on top of him, sliding your wet cunt up and down his shaft which was throbbing against his abdomen. Hot and hard, you could feel yourself salivating at the thought of him sliding into you and stretching your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby, you want my cock in your pretty little pussy?” You whined needily, hands falling to Oscar’s chest, nails digging in slightly as you grinded even faster, “H-help please…” you begged. Oscar gently shushed you, one hand reaching down to grasp his cock and push it into you, “There you go baby, take your time- that’s it.” His hands gently caressed up and down your plush sides, gripping the flesh and relishing in the way his fingers sank into your soft hips and thighs. “Look at you… you’re fuckin delicious…” His head fell back as you sank all the way down to the hilt, a desperate moan leaving your lips at the slight sting you felt. No matter how many times you took Oscar’s cock, the stretch was always delectable. “Fuck! Your pussy is so tight… you gonna milk my cock angel?” You nodded desperately, starting up a slow rhythm, your tits bouncing slightly as your ass slapped against his thighs.

Between the two of you, the room was filled with the most pornographic noises, moans, whines, skin-on-skin and the sounds of your wet cunt. Your eyes shut as your head fell back, speeding your pace up. “Look at you… you’re a goddess, baby…” Oscar couldn’t take his eyes away from your form, a light sheen of sweat covered your body as your breasts and thighs jiggled with each firm slam of your hips. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as your lips parted, releasing the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. How could you ever think you were not beautiful? One of his hands snaked down from your hips and began to rub your clit with his thumb, making your walls spasm around him. He growled out a low moan. “Oscar… Sir!” You cried out, “gonna cum!” You nails raked down his chest as you felt his thick cock reach deep into you, tip touching your cervix. “Shit!” Oscar hissed as he felt your nails digging in, desperately grabbing onto him in an effort to keep yourself from floating away. He grabbed your hips, lifting you up and down slightly to help you keep moving on his cock. “You close? Hmmm?” You nodded, flopping down onto his chest as the burning in your thighs forced you to give out, “I’ll help you angel don’t worry,” Oscar soothed you as his hands wrapped around your back, planting his feet on the bed to begin thrusting up into you. “You feel so so good angel, such a sweet little cunt…”

You mewled in response as his hips pistoned into you. “Please, please, please, please please- oh fuck!” Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, so sudden it overtook your whole body, feeling it in every limb from your fingertips to your toes. “There you go, atta girl…” Oscar crooned as his thrusts became uneven, he spilled into you, cock throbbing as his cum filled your pussy. “Milk my cock that’s it…” he moaned as your quivering cunt continued to spasm around him. 

He planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle as his arms tightened around you. You led against his chest for a moment, head fuzzy from the intensity of your orgasm, before you realised you could quite possibly be squashing your boyfriend. You gasped and shot up to roll off of him but his arms stayed firmly locked around you, leaving you unable to move, “Oscar…” You struggled a little making him laugh, “Oh absolutely not sweetheart, you are staying right here, until I say so.” You continued wriggling much to his disdain and you whimpered as a sharp spank landed against your ass cheek “Oscar!” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at you, “Then will you behave?” You looked away, face burying into his neck once more, “Just don’t wanna squash you…” Oscar sighed contentedly, “I love how it feels when you squash me though?” You scoffed and another spank hit your ass, slightly harder than the last. Your hips wiggled and squirmed and Oscar grunted at how sensitive he was, gripping your hips to still you once again.

“Easy there sweet girl…” His voice was right there in your ear and the closeness sent shivers down your spine, pussy clenching around him subconsciously. “Oh that’s it.” Oscar growled, sitting up with you still in his lap, “Wha– Oscar?!” “I’m not fucking joking around baby.” You looked at him, his eyes flashing with lust and you felt that fire ignite in your tummy again. Oh you were so fucked. He gripped your chin softly, lips hovering right above your own, “I’m gonna lie back down,” your eyes rolled back as you practically felt his words against your lips, “and you’re gonna sit on my face.” Your eyes shot open, “R-really?” His answer was placing his lips over yours, biting and sucking your bottom lip, his hands guiding your hips to grind in his lap as your hands gripped his shoulders, “Really.” He led back down and you whined as he slid himself out of you, his cum dripping down your thighs already, “Wait, but… you came insi–” “It’s my mess isn’t it? So I should clean it up.” You practically melted on the spot as he beckoned you towards him, “Now come here angel and take a seat… Every goddess needs a throne right?”

You giggled despite how serious he was being and crawled up his body until his face was right underneath your pussy. You knelt up, hands grabbing the headboard as Oscar traced gentle kisses over your thighs, hands grabbing your ass. You could feel his breath against your pussy lips and you clenched around nothing, another drop of his cum and your wetness dripping down to where his mouth was ready and waiting. He moaned at the taste of the two of you mixed together and decided enough was enough. Gripping your ass tighter he licked a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit, landing a quick little kiss against your sensitive bud for good measure.

You giggled out a moan at the feeling, but Oscar was frustrated, “Angel, I told you to sit on my face.” “I am!” Oscar rolled his eyes, “No you’re hovering… I told you to fucking sit–” His arms wrapped round your hips and pulled you down onto his face, moaning loudly as he was suddenly smothered by your cunt, causing a whimper to leave your mouth at the vibrations Oscar ate you out like a man starved, tongue fucking your pussy and nose rubbing against your clit as one of your hands flew to his hair, pulling and tugging as you couldn’t help the way your hips started grinding against his tongue, “Fuck. Yes angel…”, “that’s it”, “just like that”, Oscar gasped out between breaths as he drowned in your pussy. You looked down and gasped. He looked feral. His eyes rolling back as he licked and sucked every inch of your pussy he could get too. 

He pulled you up for a moment and you panicked slightly, were you hurting him? He must have seen your expression because he was quick to run his hands up and down your hips in a soothing manner, “I need you to use my face angel, grind on my tongue, fuck my face okay baby?” “What if I suffocate you?” Oscar groaned, “What a perfect fucking way to go…” He trailed off as you dropped your pussy back onto his waiting tongue, following his instructions and grinding your soaking cunt back and forth.

The noises Oscar was making were driving you crazy and each growl, moan and praise had you moving even more enthusiastically. A loud whine escaped you as his nose caught your sensitive clit at just the right angle.You could feel it building in your stomach, rising up from your toes all the way to the top of your head. “Fuck Osc, feels so fuckin good…” You mumbled out, barely able to form a sentence. A grunt from Oscar told you he was happy to hear that, “Yeah? Don’t stop angel.” “W-want more…” Your voice was breathy as he continued to push you towards the edge, “What d’you need?” “Your hands on my ass… Please?” You begged, “Already touchin’” “N-no please… harder… wanna see your handprint on my ass…” You squealed as a heavy swat fell against your ass, “Oh my god Oscar, fuck yes!” You cried out, “More! Harder! Make me fucking take it, I’ll be so good for you Osc I promise!” You babbled out as you felt the way he made your ass sting over and over and you couldn’t help the way you grabbed his hair tighter as you felt him fucking smile against your pussy, “I’m gonna cum… Oscar…” You warned him but that only seemed to invigorate him, the most obscene noises coming from your boyfriend between your legs, “Fucking soak me baby come on… please fuck…” Oscar was practically begging into your pussy as your hips stuttered, head falling back as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Oscar groaned as your pussy leaked your orgasm into his mouth, leaving gentle licks and soft kisses over your clit to help you ride out your high.

You slumped to the side, not wanting to actually suffocate your boyfriend and your eyes widened when you saw how hard he was, his cock pink and pretty and throbbing. Oscar was unashamed as he brought one hand down to stroke himself, neck straining. “Can’t help it angel, it’s just what you do to me…” You watched, transfixed, as your boyfriend slowly and leisurely fucked his hand. You felt yourself salivate and you leaned forward, gently blowing cool air across the tip. You watched as it throbbed and leaked more precum. Oscar watched you through half-lidded eyes as you made yourself comfortable between his legs. “Having fun there angel?” You nodded, looking up at him and looking into his eyes, “Just wanna return the favour…” You pressed a kiss to the tip and giggled at the way he shivered and goosebumps ran along his thighs, “Behave angel…” You nodded, tongue peeking out from your mouth to kitten lick the tip. Oscar groaned one hand gently smoothed your head, “so fuckin’ good to me… but this is about you…” He sat up and gently cupped your face with his hand, “I love you, so much.” He said the words with so much conviction you felt your eyes get glassy, “I love you too…” His lips met yours more softly, more intimately than they had before. You felt his thumb gently trace over your cheek as you tasted yourself and him on his tongue. That thought drove you crazy and you found yourself pulling him closer to you as your other hand grabbed the back of his head and gently pulled the hair there. He moaned, a beautiful sound and his open mouth allowed you to slip your tongue inside, sucking and licking gently on his.

You pulled apart and noticed how your lips were still connected by the spit dripping from both of your mouths. God sex with him was always so hot. It seemed he still wasn’t done with you though as he indicated for you to turn around. You did so and caught sight of your body in the mirror. You gasped at how fucked out you looked. Oscar smirked as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. One hand sliding round your plush tummy and the other sliding up to gently hold your neck. He kissed your neck, “Look at you angel… my pretty girl, all fucking mine.” You leaned back against him and he smiled, “So now you’re gonna watch me remind you that you’re mine. You’re gonna watch how well you take me, how your body was made for mine, how pretty you look when I make you cum." He gently pushed you forward until you were on all fours.

You felt him line himself up with your pussy behind you and you felt like the air was knocked out of you as he thrust in in one smooth motion. He felt so much bigger, thicker, deeper at this angle. The look on his face told you he was feeling how much tighter this angle was too. His hands used your hips as leverage as he languidly thrust in and out of you. You hummed happily as you felt a sharp sting across your asscheek in the shape of his handprint. That reaction spurred Oscar on and your moans got louder as his thrusts got harder, pounding into you, his hips slamming into your ass with a satisfying slap. 

Your head dropped to the comforter at the way his cock dragged against your walls, setting your nerves alight. He leaned forward over the top of you and grabbed your throat once more, “Oh nuh uh angel… look,” His eyes met yours through the mirror, “you don’t get to look away… just watch how pretty you look while I fuck you…” You couldn’t help the way your eyes closed, the feeling too good to deny, Oscar tutted loudly and stopped moving his hips in and out, instead circling them while he was deep inside you. You couldn’t make any noise, just let your mouth hang open. You shuddered and whined, desperately humping back onto his cock. “Oh fuck me angel…” Oscar’s hand quickly found your clit and you whimpered loudly, “I’m not gonna last much longer!” “Me either angel, it’s okay…” Your eyes shot open as you suddenly felt a familiar sensation between your legs, “Oscar…” you warned him, his head dropped to your shoulder as his hips began rolling into yours again, “I know angel, I feel it, it’s okay… make a pretty mess for me.” His head looked back up to make eye contact with you once more, “Cum for me angel.” He whispered and it was like a trigger had been pulled.

With a loud cry, your whole body shook. White-hot pleasure spilling over, toes curling and walls clenching tightly as you soaked your boyfriend’s cock and his hand, squirting all over the sheets below,  “Fuckkkk angel yes yes yes just like that!” You felt his thrusts speed up as he pushed himself to another orgasm. His cock throbbed so hard inside you that you felt it and you hummed contentedly, filled up with Oscar’s cum once more. “Holy shit baby…” Oscar planted kisses down your back as he moved to pull out of you. You shuddered at the feeling of his cock pulling out.Oscar flopped onto his back and opened his arms, a silent invitation to cuddle, “I love you.” A soft kiss landed against your forehead, “I love you.” A kiss to his chest, “You’re so beautiful Y/N, I mean it. My pretty girl.” He squeezed you tighter in his arms and you giggled.  “So,” he sighed contentedly, “how about that pizza?” 

[aspenmissing]

Hello hihihi!! First of all - you’re amazing, and not only because your writing being SICK, but also because you seem to be the sweetest person ever. You’re almost like a fairy godmother or genie, providing your talent and skills for us, and imo it’s the coolest thing ever… so thank you for your efforts, the fandom is so lucky to have you!!

As for my request… have you ever wanted to explore Jinx’s abandonment issues and possessiveness in your writings? 

How would she react to the reader becoming close to her father romantically/platonically? Would the poor reader be able to stay safe and sound? cx

(I’m personally not a big fan of extra angsty stuff and think about the whole thing more like some silly sitcom in which our dear pigtails gremlin messes with the reader until Silco tells her that no matter what, she’s his beloved daughter and the reader doesn’t try to steal her old man) (but if you like my request, you can handle it however feels right to you!!)

ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴀʏ

ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ.ᴊɪɴx) || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5421 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ ᴋᴏɪ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ. ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ ᴋɪɴᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ, ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ɪ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴊɪɴx'ꜱ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴡᴇ ᴅᴇʟᴠᴇᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ɪᴛ. ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ!!! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx

The first time Jinx met Y/N, she didn’t speak.

She just stared.

Y/N had been in Silco's office for a week now, settling into the strange rhythm of life under the Last Drop’s roof. An informant turned trusted errand-runner, she was known for her uncanny ability to decipher messy reports, manage shipments with terrifying efficiency, and bring some semblance of order to the chaos that usually reigned in Silco’s office. Her quiet presence was like a balm to the madness that followed him everywhere—except when it wasn’t.

Silco had already come to appreciate her work, though he wasn’t one to vocalize any fondness. He didn’t do that. Not unless absolutely necessary. But he knew that the work got done faster when she was around. It just worked.

That day, however, had been quieter than usual. The office, usually filled with the usual cacophony of shuffling papers, murmured reports, and the odd loud phone call, was silent. Y/N sat at his desk—no, correction: her desk now. When she felt like it, Y/N had staked her claim. She was perched there with a stack of ledgers and a map, both spread out in front of her. One leg was tucked beneath her, her messy hair pinned back just enough to keep it out of her face. Her brow was furrowed, deep in thought as her fingers flipped through the papers. Every so often, she’d hum a little tune to herself, barely audible, as she worked.

That was when Jinx came in.

Jinx had been away on one of her usual “projects,” which was her special euphemism for “I went out to break things and maybe cause a few explosions for fun.” When she returned, she was covered in glitter, gunpowder, and little scraps of fabric—some of which suspiciously resembled pieces of Sevika’s coat. Jinx hadn’t been particularly delicate when she returned to the Last Drop, seeking out her usual snack stash with a determined focus.

But the second she entered the room and spotted someone else sitting at Silco’s desk, she froze mid-step. Her eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly as if her brain was trying to process what she was seeing. She couldn’t have been imagining this, could she?

There was Y/N, sitting at the desk, totally at ease, surrounded by paperwork like she belonged there.

The world seemed to slow down for a moment. Jinx stared, absolutely still, not even blinking as her eyes darted from Y/N’s figure to Silco’s expression.

Y/N glanced up at her, smiling brightly, unaware of the impending storm brewing behind those piercing eyes. “Hey there,” Y/N greeted casually, her voice warm and friendly.

Jinx didn’t respond. She simply narrowed her eyes and continued staring. Then, she tilted her head slightly, examining Y/N as though she were some curious, but slightly dangerous, animal.

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “...Hi?” she ventured, a little unsure of what to make of the intense scrutiny.

Still, Jinx remained silent, her face a mask of suspicion. Without a word, she turned sharply on her heel and slinked toward the back corner of the room, as though her very presence had become a cloud of tension.

Y/N blinked, clearly thrown off by the strange greeting. But before she could think too much about it, Jinx returned to her spot in the back of the office, rummaging through a cabinet without a single glance in her direction. Finally, she pulled out a bag of marshmallow bombs (the kind Y/N would probably never understand) and turned on her heel.

Jinx didn’t speak.

She simply left. Backwards. Still staring.

Y/N watched the door swing shut behind her, unsure of whether to laugh or just chalk it up to “Jinx being Jinx.”

The second time Y/N encountered Jinx, it was considerably messier.

The morning had started out just like any other—grey and cold. The kind of morning where the chill in the air seemed to gnaw at you, slowly stealing any warmth you’d managed to accumulate overnight. Y/N had made the trek into the Last Drop from the docks, her breath fogging in front of her as she hurried inside to escape the biting wind. The whole city of Zaun was always cold, but today, it was unbearable.

When she entered Silco’s office, she was shivering, her hair damp from the mist that rolled in off the water. She’d barely had time to hang her coat up when Silco had, surprisingly, draped one of his old, dark coats over her shoulders.

There was no warning, no words, just the weight of it settling around her. The coat was long and sleek, matching the shadowy tones of the office, with a high collar that framed her face like a protective shield. It fit perfectly, too perfectly, as though it had been waiting for her. The scent of it—something faintly musky, a mix of leather and something darker, more dangerous—reminded her of Silco himself.

For a moment, Y/N stood there, trying to shake off the uncomfortable sense of familiarity that the coat gave her. She didn’t understand it—didn’t know why Silco had done it, or if it meant something she wasn’t supposed to figure out just yet. But she wasn’t going to ask. She had learned long ago that asking questions in this place could lead to things you weren’t prepared for.

It wasn’t until she made her way to Silco’s desk, settling into her usual spot to sort through reports, that she realized she had caught someone’s attention.

Jinx.

The girl—if she could even be called that—had been perched on the other side of the room, leaning casually against one of the windows as she watched Y/N with those intense, unblinking eyes. Her gaze flickered between the coat draped over Y/N’s shoulders and the back of Silco’s chair, where Y/N had already made herself at home once again. She was already crossing a line in Jinx’s mind. She didn’t know it yet, but she’d just walked into a trap.

Jinx narrowed her eyes as she studied Y/N’s every movement, the way the coat settled over her form like something that belonged there. Something that wasn’t supposed to.

And then, without warning, the lights in the office flickered and went out.

Y/N froze, her hand halfway through a report, her eyes scanning the room as the air seemed to thicken with tension. She heard a clicking sound in the darkness, followed by an electric hum. The hairs on her neck stood on end.

“…Silco?” she called out, her voice breaking the unnatural silence. Her words echoed through the room as she took a cautious step forward, feeling her way along the desk. She didn’t realize what was happening, not yet.

Suddenly, a shrill scream split the silence.

“I KNEW IT!”

The sound came from above.

Y/N barely had time to react before a net shot down from the rafters, its ropes tangling with a loud crash. The net ensnared her, pulling her sideways and sending her stumbling into a pile of crates with an unceremonious thud. She let out a strangled gasp as the thick ropes tightened around her.

“Jesus!” Y/N yelped, her body hitting the crates hard. She could feel the bruises forming already.

The lights flickered back on, revealing a scene that was utterly chaotic.

Jinx, hanging upside down from the ceiling like some twisted little bat, was glaring down at her. Her wide, crazed eyes were hidden behind her signature goggles, but there was no mistaking the manic energy that surged from her. Her pink pigtails hung down, almost touching the floor as she swung back and forth in the air, her hands grasping a strange contraption that looked like it could do untold amounts of damage.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice!” Jinx screamed, her voice high-pitched and filled with accusation. “Wearing his coat! Sitting in my chair!”

Y/N groaned, still tangled in the net and struggling to untangle herself. The ropes were too tight. “Is this about the coat?” she called back, trying to be heard over Jinx’s shouts. “It was cold!”

The words barely had a chance to register before Jinx’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing dangerously. She swung lower, closer to the ground, practically snarling as she got within inches of Y/N’s face.

“You don’t get cold in this office unless you’re family!” Jinx’s voice cracked as she spat the words, her grip tightening on her makeshift weapon.

Y/N blinked, thoroughly confused, her brow furrowing. “...That doesn’t even make sense,” she muttered, still trying to wriggle free from the ropes that were now beginning to dig into her skin.

Before Jinx could retaliate, Silco stepped into the room.

The sight before him—his daughter hanging from the ceiling like a wild animal, Y/N caught in a net, and the office in utter disarray—was not an unusual one, but it certainly wasn’t what he had hoped for when he’d stepped away from his desk. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple, as if the headache had already set in.

“Jinx. Down. Now.” he said, his voice low but commanding.

Jinx glared at him, still refusing to drop down from her perch. “Not until the coat thief confesses her intentions!” she shot back, crossing her arms defiantly as she swung in place.

Y/N, still tangled up in the mess of ropes, could only look up at Silco in exasperation. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “My intentions were to not freeze to death and file your overdue cargo reports,” she said dryly, her voice flat, but her frustration evident.

Jinx scoffed, an exaggerated eye roll accompanying her dismissive gesture. “Too convenient,” she muttered under her breath, clearly not satisfied with the answer.

=

After things had finally calmed down, mostly due to Silco’s incredible patience (and maybe a hint of exasperation), Y/N found herself sitting across from him in his office. The coat was returned—begrudgingly—Jinx still muttering insults under her breath about "coat thieves" and "competitors." But, for the time being, at least, the storm had passed.

Silco had made it his mission to sit Jinx down and clear the air. He was not about to let the situation escalate any further. He knew better than anyone how complicated his daughter could be, how fiercely territorial she could become. But this was not a battle he was willing to let her win.

“She’s not replacing you,” Silco said firmly, his voice calm but lined with authority as he sat across from her at his desk.

Jinx, who had been sulking in the corner, kicked her feet out in annoyance. “She’s got replacement vibes,” she muttered darkly, her eyes narrowing as she kicked her legs against the edge of the chair. She was clearly holding onto this grudge like a dog with a bone.

Silco rubbed his temple, trying to hold onto his last ounce of patience. “She’s got competence. That’s different,” he explained, his voice quiet but firm.

Jinx threw her hands up, almost knocking over a cup of pens in the process. “She smells like clean laundry. People who smell like clean laundry steal dads!” she declared, her words delivered with the kind of finality that made it clear she was beyond reason.

Silco blinked, staring at her for a moment before he responded, completely at a loss for words. “That is… not a real metric for threat levels,” he said, struggling to keep the smile off his face. The absurdity of the situation was slowly starting to break through his otherwise calm demeanour.

“You don’t know that,” Jinx grumbled, crossing her arms and pouting as if the very idea of clean laundry had become some kind of personal affront.

Silco couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at that, shaking his head. "No, I suppose I don’t," he said with a sigh.

And there, in the odd silence that followed, Silco realized something. His daughter was difficult. She was complicated. But deep down, she was still his daughter. And no matter how chaotic or unpredictable she got, he wasn’t about to let anyone, least of all Y/N, replace her.

The third time Y/N saw Jinx, things were, surprisingly, a lot quieter.

The evening had settled into the Last Drop like an old friend, the noise of the bar humming softly in the background as Y/N pushed open the door. She’d had a long day of tracking shipments and organizing the chaos that came with Silco’s empire, and honestly, she was just looking for a little bit of peace and maybe a sandwich. She hadn’t expected to find Jinx, of all people, sitting under one of the tables in the corner of the bar.

At first, Y/N wasn’t sure what Jinx was doing. She couldn’t see her clearly from the door, but there was a vague silhouette hunched over something. It looked like… some kind of weird contraption? There were gears, wires, and—Y/N blinked—was that part of a toaster?

She stood there for a second, observing the chaotic mess of pieces spread out in front of Jinx. The girl’s movements were almost fluid as she twisted and pulled on different components, her brows furrowed in concentration. The whole sight was oddly endearing, in a bizarre, "this is definitely a person who thinks toasters need tinkering" kind of way.

Y/N wasn’t sure if she should interrupt or not. She wasn’t exactly sure what Jinx’s mood was these days—her last two encounters had been a whirlwind of manic energy, and frankly, she wasn’t looking to get caught up in another bizarre confrontation. So, she just quietly slid into the chair across from Jinx, settling down cross-legged and unwrapping the sandwich she’d brought for herself.

Jinx didn’t notice at first. She was too absorbed in her strange work, clicking pieces together with the precision of a mad scientist. But then, she must’ve sensed someone’s presence, because her head snapped up, her wide blue eyes narrowing immediately.

“That sandwich better not be for seduction purposes,” Jinx demanded, her voice dripping with suspicion, like Y/N had just waltzed in with some ulterior motive. Her grip on the contraption in front of her tightened, as if she was ready to launch it at Y/N’s head in the blink of an eye.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh under her breath. She paused in the middle of taking a bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “Nope,” she said after a beat, giving her a deadpan look. “But it’s got pickles.”

Jinx stared at the sandwich for a long moment, as though trying to figure out if there was some elaborate prank hidden within the layers of bread and filling. Her eyes flicked from the sandwich to Y/N and back again, as if the truth of it were just out of reach. For a second, Y/N thought Jinx might just throw something at her, or worse, come up with some new and terrifying invention to test out.

Then, as if some internal debate was resolved, Jinx huffed in frustration. She reached over without a word and snatched half of the sandwich, biting into it with exaggerated care, like she was forced to accept a fate far worse than she had imagined.

“…You’re lucky I like pickles,” Jinx muttered with a roll of her eyes, chewing dramatically.

Y/N watched her, trying not to laugh out loud. Pickles. Of all things, Jinx liked pickles. The thought made her pause mid-bite, a smile creeping up at the corner of her lips. It was funny—most kids hated pickles. You knew that much by the way they’d push them off their plates like they were some kind of punishment. But here was Jinx, all manic energy and explosives, savouring the tangy bite of pickles like they were the best thing in the world.

Y/N shook her head, unable to hide her amusement. “You know,” she said, letting out a soft chuckle, “that was the nicest thing anyone’s said to me today.”

Jinx didn’t look up from her half of the sandwich. She just grumbled something unintelligible under her breath, her expression one of deep, meaningful annoyance. “Don’t get used to it,” she muttered, as if she were being forced to share something personal, and the idea of it was the most tragic burden.

Y/N grinned, feeling the atmosphere shift in a way she hadn’t expected. The ridiculousness of the moment—Jinx, of all people, casually munching on a sandwich like a normal person—was oddly grounding. There was something so delightfully absurd about the whole situation. Despite Jinx's chaotic nature, there was this strange, unexpected calm between them now, something that hadn't existed before.

As they sat there in the dim light of the bar, sharing a sandwich in this quiet, unspoken understanding, Y/N felt something change. The girl sitting across from her wasn’t just some wild child running on pure chaos. Jinx was, for all her madness, real—raw and unpredictable, sure, but human, too.

In that moment, Y/N realized that despite the bombs, the traps, and the constant upheaval that seemed to follow Jinx wherever she went, there was something... kind of endearing about her.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Y/N wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a lot more to this little gremlin than met the eye.

And as Jinx finished off her half of the sandwich with a dramatic sigh, as though this was the worst injustice the universe had ever dealt her, Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle again.

Maybe she did understand Jinx after all.

As weeks passed, Y/N’s presence in the Last Drop became more and more familiar. What had started as cautious, sometimes tense encounters between her and Jinx gradually shifted, forming a strange, though undeniable, bond. It was like the building of an unexpected, if bizarre, family—Y/N had become part of Silco's world in a way that felt permanent, but it was Jinx who was slowly staking her claim on Y/N in a way that both surprised and amused her.

In the beginning, Jinx had been unpredictable, a whirlwind of chaos that seemed to swirl around Y/N with little rhyme or reason. Jinx would appear out of nowhere, pulling Y/N into her madcap schemes and grinning like a maniac. It was hard for Y/N to know what to make of it all. At first, it had been uncomfortable—Jinx’s erratic behaviour, her possessiveness of Silco, her unpredictable bursts of energy. Y/N had felt like an outsider in the strange dynamic that Silco and Jinx shared.

But over time, Jinx’s behaviour shifted. Slowly, she became less of a storm trying to drive Y/N away, and more like a guard dog, one who had grown attached. It wasn’t in the same frenzied way she had latched onto Silco, no. With Y/N, it was more subtle, more insidious. She became possessive in a way that reminded Y/N of a mother bear who had finally decided that the new cub, while not her own, was still something worth protecting.

It wasn’t immediate. The first few months were filled with awkward encounters where Jinx would hover, her suspicious gaze fixed on Y/N whenever she was near Silco. The small moments where she seemed to test boundaries—snatching granola bars off of Y/N’s desk, jumping onto her chair, or showing up unannounced while Y/N was in the middle of sorting through Silco’s endless reports—were frustrating at first, but eventually, they became part of the strange new rhythm of the Last Drop.

=

One of the first signs that things were changing came during a particularly long day of paperwork. Y/N had been working for hours, sifting through invoices and reports while trying to stay on top of Silco’s growing list of demands. It had been quiet, the usual sounds of the office only interrupted by the faint clatter of a few workers in the back.

And then there was the unmistakable sound of Jinx’s boots clicking across the floor behind her. Y/N didn’t even need to turn around to know that Jinx was creeping up on her, her presence a little too close, a little too familiar. Without warning, Jinx dropped a half-eaten granola bar onto the edge of the desk with a heavy thud, leaning against the back of Y/N’s chair as though it was her throne.

“Got anything better than this?” Jinx asked with a half-hearted pout, snatching the granola bar before Y/N could even blink.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the nonchalance of the gesture. “Uh… there’s more in the drawer.” She turned in her chair, barely managing to catch a glimpse of Jinx’s face before the girl had already helped herself to a second snack.

“You know I’m more of a candy person,” Jinx said as she ripped open the wrapper with the enthusiasm of someone unbothered by all social norms. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she watched Jinx devour the snack, completely at ease in a way that still felt new. She’d gotten used to the chaotic bursts of energy, the wild conversations and outbursts, but this was something different—Jinx had settled into the space between them with a strange comfort, her possessiveness now extending to Y/N as well as Silco. It was less erratic, less manic, but more persistent.

As the months went by, Jinx’s behaviour grew even more clingy. She no longer hovered on the edges, unsure of how to interact with Y/N. Now, she settled into Y/N’s space like it was her right. If Y/N was deep in paperwork, Jinx would slide in beside her, legs draped over the edge of the desk as if she were part of the furniture. If Y/N was standing by the bar grabbing a drink, Jinx would casually slip into the seat next to her, her arms crossed as though she had been there for ages, just waiting for the chance to demand attention.

“Hey, you’re not leaving, are you?” Jinx asked one afternoon, when Y/N was gathering her things to head out for the day. It wasn’t a question. It was an assertion. Jinx had slowly, but surely, started to occupy Y/N’s time in ways she hadn’t before. And Y/N found herself... not minding.

"No, I’m just grabbing my jacket." Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “You know I can’t leave without some kind of weird snack run with you, right?”

Jinx’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. "Yeah! That’s what I thought,” she said, her voice adopting a mock-serious tone. “We’re going now. No excuses.”

Jinx’s increasing attachment wasn’t just in the small, constant interruptions to Y/N’s day. It was in the little protective acts, the silent displays of care that would pop up when she least expected them.

=

One day, for example, after Silco had asked Y/N to stay late and help finish some papers, Jinx had materialized beside her like a storm cloud, clutching a bag of sweets and energy drinks.

“Got your back,” she had declared, sitting on the desk and stretching out in a way that completely blocked the papers Y/N was trying to sort through.

“Jinx, I can’t see the reports—”

“I know,” she’d said with a grin, placing a jar of pickles in front of Y/N’s face. “But you’re not allowed to work without taking a break.”

And then, as if to prove her point, Jinx had dragged Y/N out for what could only be described as the most chaotic snack run the city had ever seen, complete with pickled everything, stale chips, and a questionable assortment of energy drinks.

“What am I supposed to do with all this?” Y/N asked, half-laughing as she followed Jinx down the street.

“Eat it!” Jinx had replied with a grin that could rival the chaos of any demolition. “Or else I’ll eat it for you. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

Over the course of the next several months, Y/N grew to recognize the subtle—and sometimes not-so-subtle—ways Jinx expressed her protectiveness over her. It wasn’t always loud, or dramatic, but Jinx had her own methods of showing she cared. At first, it had been the way she would show up unexpectedly, standing in the doorway of the office or the bar, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, as though daring anyone to get too close. When someone—whether it was a worker from the docks or a visiting merchant—got too near Y/N, Jinx would stare them down like a predator sizing up prey.

"Don’t mess with her," Jinx would murmur, her voice low and dangerous, sending an unmistakable warning to anyone within earshot. It wasn’t violent, not exactly, but there was an undeniable force behind her words. It was more like a child who fiercely guarded their favourite toy—possessive, yes, but wrapped up in a kind of love and protectiveness that was too strong to ignore.

Y/N had started to notice that Jinx’s watchful eye was always there, whether Y/N was working in the office, getting a drink at the bar, or simply wandering the Last Drop. It was subtle at first, but it became clearer each time. Jinx didn’t just hover anymore—she guarded. It wasn’t in an overbearing way, but rather, like a silent agreement. As though she was silently claiming Y/N as someone who belonged in her world.

Months stretched on into a year, and what had begun as strange, wary interactions between Y/N and Jinx gradually evolved into something else. It wasn’t overnight, nor was it particularly dramatic, but over time, a bond had formed between them. Y/N was no longer just someone passing through Silco's life—she was a part of the strange little world Jinx had created for herself. More than just a coworker or an ally, Y/N had become something like… family.

At first, Y/N had tried to resist it, unsure of what to make of Jinx’s unpredictable ways, her possessiveness, and the odd little demands Jinx would make of her. But, as the months passed, Y/N realized it wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t a power play or just about chaos—at its core, Jinx was doing what she did best: she was trying to care in her own messy, chaotic way.

It wasn’t just about snacks anymore, or about Jinx showing up unexpectedly with some wild new invention to drag Y/N into. It became a little more than that. Slowly, Y/N started to notice how Jinx would watch over her, even when she wasn’t around. How she’d make sure Y/N was always included, would pull her into conversations, and fiercely defend her against anyone—whether it was a dock worker or even Silco himself—who even hinted that Y/N didn’t belong.

And it wasn’t just about Silco’s approval anymore, either. Jinx was beginning to treat Y/N with the kind of protectiveness that was… well, almost motherly, in a way. It was strange, but there was something endearing about it, something comforting in the chaotic mess that was Jinx’s version of care.

=

One night, after a long day of paperwork and strategizing, Y/N had retreated to the living space to unwind. The room, usually full of scattered gadgets and the remnants of Jinx’s latest chaotic project, was quiet for once. Y/N had been reading through some reports when she felt the familiar weight of Jinx’s presence beside her. Jinx had been slowly getting more and more comfortable in her space, more willing to relax, and even more willing to curl up next to Y/N when she needed to. It was an odd kind of trust they had developed, a small comfort in the midst of the madness.

Y/N didn’t question it anymore, and when Jinx, without a word, crawled up beside her on the couch and curled into her side, Y/N simply ran her fingers through Jinx’s messy blue hair. The motion, though simple, felt natural now. Jinx, who once would never have allowed anyone to get too close, now fell asleep with her head resting on Y/N’s shoulder.

It was a strange thing to witness—Jinx, the wild little gremlin who had spent years turning everything upside down, now curled up in the quiet of Y/N’s presence, looking almost childlike. Her breathing evened out as she relaxed under the gentle touch of Y/N’s hand, her usually manic energy replaced by a rare moment of peace. It was clear now that, in her own way, Jinx had come to rely on Y/N—not just as someone who could manage the chaos of the world, but as someone who could be the anchor she so rarely had.

As Y/N absentmindedly ran her fingers through Jinx’s hair, she couldn’t help but marvel at the strange shift that had happened between them. Jinx had started to see her less like an ally in Silco’s world, and more like a mother figure—someone who could help balance out the chaos, someone she could depend on when the storms inside her became too much. Y/N didn’t know when exactly it had changed, but the shift was unmistakable. It was as if Jinx had, in her own clumsy, chaotic way, found someone to care for, and in return, someone to protect her.

It was just another quiet evening, the sounds of distant dockworkers mingling with the soft clink of broken gadgets from Jinx’s latest project. Y/N found herself content in the unexpected calm of it all. She was no longer just surviving in the madness of Silco’s world—she was becoming a part of it, becoming something important to Jinx, and that felt like a strange kind of accomplishment.

But just as Y/N let herself settle into the moment, she heard the door to the living space creak open. She looked up to see Silco standing there, looking down at the scene before him. His brow furrowed slightly at the sight of Jinx curled up so peacefully beside Y/N, her head resting on Y/N’s lap, eyes closed, with the softest expression he’d ever seen her wear.

For a long moment, Silco just stood there, taking in the sight. He had never seen Jinx like this—so unguarded, so trusting. It was... unsettling, in a way. But also, there was something else there. A part of him almost felt relieved, knowing that, despite everything, Jinx had found someone she could let her guard down with. He’d always feared for her—her wildness, her unpredictability, the walls she’d built around herself. But here, in this moment, she looked almost... normal. Or at least as normal as Jinx could ever look.

His voice broke the silence, low and steady. “She’s... never like this.”

Y/N glanced up, startled but soft with a smile. “She’s just… trusting me.”

Silco’s gaze lingered on them, and his expression softened just slightly, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes. “I see that.”

He took a step closer, though not quite interrupting the calm. “She’s never allowed herself to do this. Not even with me.”

Y/N smiled gently, her fingers still running through Jinx’s hair. “She’s not as bad as she seems, you know. She’s just… well, she’s Jinx.”

A rare, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at Silco’s lips. “I never thought I’d see the day. Jinx, of all people, trusting someone fully.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked down at the peaceful figure in her lap. “We’re a little more alike than you think, you know. We both need someone who can ground us when everything’s spinning.”

Silco watched them for a moment longer, his gaze shifting between Y/N and Jinx. Then, after a long pause, he nodded slightly.

“I suppose so,” he said quietly. “Maybe this... might just work out after all.”

For a moment, the room fell back into a rare quiet. Silco stood there, letting the scene unfold in front of him, before finally stepping back. “I’ll leave you two. Don’t keep her up too late.”

Y/N nodded, a soft chuckle escaping her as she adjusted slightly, making sure Jinx was still comfortable. Silco turned away, his footsteps quiet as he left the room, but before the door closed fully behind him, he spoke one last time.

“Thank you... for looking after her.”

The door clicked shut, and Y/N smiled to herself, a warmth spreading through her chest. Maybe it wasn’t so unpredictable after all. Not everything in Silco’s world had to be about control and chaos. Some things—like the connection between Jinx and Y/N—could find their own way, in their own time. And that, Y/N thought, was something to be grateful for.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Anything that involves Toto Wolff with wife reader. Idc, fluff and suggestive. Thanks!! :)

The Beast

i am so sorry for how long this took!! i hope you like it and if you do have any suggestions let me know :)

being with toto was exhilarating to put simply. Everyone knew him as the big bad Wolf and it wasn’t a bad description of him it just needed a little bit of context.

The Mercedes tables and head sets had often been the brunt of Totos anger and frustration but behind the tough guy facade was a kind hearted husband.

Every now and then especially after a bad race the media loved to make him seem like a villain, but unfortunately this time they chose you.

You had once faced the brunt of how unfair the media could truly be.

Having only just brushed hands with Fred and have given him a small smile the media made it seem like you were out there cheating on toto with his championship rival snitching out the teams secretes for quick hookups.

You were truly blissfully unaware of what was going on as your husband had warned you about the dangers of social media especially as passionate fans would often end up flooding the drivers wife or girlfriends comments or dms if their favorites were not performing.

This was coming from a rather nasty encounter Carmen and Lilah had with fans so you knew better then to search up your name on the internet.

You thought you were safe from the heat of Mercedes not performing well up until a nasty member of the media and a quite loyal Mercedes fan had shoved you hard towards the ground accusing you of being a slut and a whore and why Ferrari were getting better then Mercedes.

Hot tears pricked your eyes, they almost burned like acid. How could he say that, did he not know that you had sworn your life to toto.? your head pounded after just being assaulted and called a slut in the middle of the paddock and then being forced to be the brunt of all the paddock gossip.

You had always vowed to be loyal to toto and to always be honest with any feelings that might come between the two of you

Unfortunately you had broken the second vow, knowing how protective your husband tended to be in normal situations you knew it was best for his PR image and team to not let him know of this incident.

However the wounds you had suffered from the rough fall were rather prominent, you simply decided to tell your husband if he would notice and ask that you had a rather silly fall.

But before all of that you really wanted a nice quiet corner to let out the tears you were holding back. You knew the lack of your presence would not be noticed as toto had a rather long team meeting.

Hastily you made your way to the front of the lady’s bathroom and simply lost it. You let everything out, the pain from the fall the humiliation the insulting words everything. The only thing that was able to muffle your cries so as to not alert anyone was your own hand.

You finally exited the bathroom after what seemed like ages when realistically it wasn’t more than half an hour. It wasn’t long until you retreated into the Mercedes motorhome beyond exhausted and frankly just needing your husband but alas you couldn’t tell him.

With millions of thoughts echoing your mind you slowly let yourself find sleep in the corner of Toto’s room.

Blissfully unaware of what was going to happen.

Toto knew he was a lucky bastard it wasn’t the amount of championship he had that made him come to that conclusion it was the fact that he had you out of all odds. He knew you inside out, knowing when you are well or unwell just by simple actions.

Toto prided himself in his abilities to comfort and protect you. So when he didn’t find you eagerly waiting near his side after the long meeting he knew something was wrong. The two of you were peas in a pod always close, something was surely up.

He made his way out of the motorhome on his way to try and figure out where his wife had wandered off to, he was told by multiple staff that they had last seen you near the ladies bathroom inside the motorhome. Toto simply made his way back inside his room only to find you curled up on the corner.

He chucked a little, just when he thought you couldn’t get any more adorable. His chuckle however was cut short when he noticed the small red cuts around your hands and palms and how your eyes seemed red and irritated not to mention the fact that your lashes were still wet.

He had this feeling that something most definitely had happened to his love and he wasn’t going to spare whosoever had hurt her.

Your sleep was quickly interrupted by your husband who looked rather cross. Without looking at him you quickly wiped your eyes and face jusy to get rid of the signs of your meltdown.

Toto the ever wise fox had noticed. He called you forward and quickly took your hands in his larger ones and simply asked what had happened.

You couldn’t help it, all the tears that you had cried out came back this time even worse. In a blink of an eye you were pulled towards your husbands chest and blubbered what had happened so much for keeping it a secret from him.

You noticed how the German man’s fists were getting more and more tighter almost to the point of it turning red. You knew this wasn’t going to end well and had made him swear that he would not do anything that would hurt him and the teams image.

With an annoyed sign he agreed and simply held you closer, and whispered nothing but angry German curses and how badly he wanted to run into the guy and give him a piece of his mind.

It had been a while since the incident happened, however social media got a whiff of all that occurred and had conducted their own little investigation which lead to the identity and basic information of your assaulter being leaked. You had no clue about this but toto he was having a field day.

Although he had promised you that he wasn’t going to do anything he hired a team of lawyers to sue your attacker named Paul for everything he had done.

Later that day toto held a press conference to bring light to the story and in rather stern terms explain how much he trusted you and how Bull shit the claims of the man were.

News got out of his actions and fans quickly swooned over your husbands reaction.

toto and you were laughing to all the tweets that were coming out saying how much of a protective mother hen toto really was and how fans wished that the both of you would remain ever so happier.

toto was never a villain without a reason, he just needed a little bit of context that’s all. his context came in the shape of you.

oh and toto made sure to permanently ban paul from all circuits 🤭

[theladyheroine]

Movie! Shadow x Platonic! Reader

Genre: Cozy, Fluff, Songfic

Word Count: 685 words

⚠️ Warning: None!

Summary: Hello there everyone! 👋🏽 First off, I just want to seriously apologize to this anon for not answering your request sooner. 🙏 I never got around to it but I believe at one point I even forgot about it, so I am so very very sorry for barely putting it off. These past few months have been busy, but thank you guys for sticking around! As for the song, the link is here! Thank you everyone & I hope you all enjoy! 🙏

Shadow felt his fur grow hot beneath the fuzzy blanket; the soft blue texture shifting from sweet and cozy to uncomfortable very fast. He tossed it off, thinking that was the end of it, but he could only stare at the ceiling fan as his tired eyes watched it spin. Suddenly his body felt cold.

He felt bored. A very odd feeling to have when you’re trying to sleep, but the longer Shadow tossed and turned, the more his boredom increased. Nights like this weren’t always uncommon, but his grew weary the longer his eyes laid open.

Okay, this is ridiculous.

Shadow gave a deadpan sigh, rubbing his eyes he pulled himself to the bedside. Rolling up his fuzzy blanket he trudged into the hallway. He had to squint against the bright light, blinking a few times before making a beeline to your room. A shadow crack peaked through your door, along with an dim white glow.

A soft noise made Shadow’s ears perk up, and he nudged your door enough to poke his head through. You were at your work desk with your back facing him, and he heard the sound of typing. Along with another gentle sound. It was soft and calming, but Shadow had to crane his neck a bit to hear properly.

“Earth Angel~

Earth Angel~

Please be mine.”

You took a few pauses to make way for yawning, your voice was barely above a whisper. And yet the words carried so gracefully. If he made himself known, Shadow feared the song would shatter.

“My darling dear,

Love you all the time ~

I’m just a fool…

A fool in love with youuu.”

He always found your music intriguing, after all, it was a part of your routine. Whether it was a cheerful song to get the morning started, or a soothing one to fade into after a long day. Or just a silly one found online, with you urging Shadow to dance. Music has become a part of your lives, but your singing sounded different tonight. It wasn’t your usual energy.

“I fell for you and I knew,

The vision of your love–”

The creaking sound was drowned out by your sweet voice, and you would’ve jumped at Shadow’s voice if he didn’t show up by your desk.

“Loveliness ~ I hope and I pray,

That someday,

I’ll be the vision of your hap-happiness!”

He smiled as he sang, and you turned the screen’s volume up a little.

“Earth angel, earth angel,

Please, be mine ~

My darling dear,

Love you all the time.”

“I'm just a fool

A fool in love with youuuu.”

The song finished and you pressed the PAUSE button on the screen. You rubbed the top of Shadow’s quills lovingly and he rolled his eyes. He glanced at your screen as you clicked away from the music tab, displaying a big white canvas with various writings.

“What are you up to?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Oh! Just catching up on some reading, I missed a chapter for a webcomic yesterday.”

“Didn’t you say reading in the dark is bad for you?”

Shadow lifted a brow as you gave a sheepish grin.

“Well yes… but I was just going to bed!” You closed the tabs and shut your computer off.

“I liked the song.” Shadow mumbled.

You chuckled, “Yea, me too. It helps me when I’m tired.”

You covered your mouth as you yawned again, and rubbed Shadow’s head one more time. The only source of light was the one in the hallway now, and you quickly pushed your chair in.

Shadow watched as you climbed into bed, and he was about to turn around until he heard your bed creak.

“Hey…” He heard some shuffling, and turned to find you sitting up in your blankets. “Aren’t you coming?”

He gave a small smile, and teleported next to you. You quickly rolled out his blue blanket and spread it over the bed. Soon you two were all bundled up, and it didn’t take long before you both nodded off to sleep. With Shadow resting on your shoulder.

[goofy-clan]

Heyo! Narrator peep and creator of goofy clan! I wanted to share this fanart I made as a gift to the clan series that inspired this entire series! Enjoy!!

And now it’s time to pair cat with creator! Click more to see notes I left for the creators too!

————————————————

Goldsight belongs to @gray-thistleclan , I loved the way the cats were drawn in this series, and especially how the story progressed! Gold was always my favroite -w-! Even though she has the crazy disease now ;-;.

Eukltna belongs to @loudclan-clangen ! I loved the silly cats in this series, the artstyle actually helped me draw mouths easier! I love our doomed religious kitty, even if she was a bit odd. That crude oil does get everywhere huh…

Longstrike belongs to @juniper-clan ! The fact that the entire series was set in olden times is really neat! I also love the theme of seashells/ cowrie shells being bad, those are spooky! Long was my favroite, I was sad to see him go. So he’s drawn in the cozy sunshine!

Tigertoe Belongs to @circus-clangen ! Circus clan was actually a big inspiration for the puzzles/cipher aspects of my blog! I was always a sucker for finding stuff out, plus clowns are cool! I love tiger with all my heart, she was so fun to draw! Best entertainer :)!

Ravenstar belongs to @fallenclan ! Oh boy where do I start. I think it’s super impressive how far the series is now, even if I picked up halfway through! I love how the cats look, fun fur colors! Raven is such a good villain, evil stinky cat. So here he is with a totally real (and not painted) star!

Kestrelstar belongs to @echoes-in-echoclan ! I love this series, even though I don’t get what’s going on sometimes, it’s still a wonderful read! I also loved the connected universe with circus clan, what a twist! Kestrel is my favorite, he’s such a cool old dude!

Sweetkit belongs to @mourningsbane ! It isn’t every day I see a eldritch horror/spooky clangen series! As an avid horror fan, I love how body horror is drawn and shown in this series! Honey is the best cat :)! But, I drew sweet today! They’re a good protagonist, because who better to explore the spooky uknown than kittens?

NettleIris belongs to @moons-of-dewclan ! I adored the art style of this series, and the fact all the backgrounds are drawn so beautifully! Even though this series tugs at my heart strings, it’s lovely! Makes me wanna go wander in the woods! Nettle is my favorite lil’ peep, best medicine cat. Plus, puffy cats are fun to draw!

ConiferSun belongs to @castaway-clan ! I love the trope of “rebuild and build anew” in clangen runs! Seeing the clan in this series slowly grow in size and for the leader to not be alone anymore was very comforting. Conifer is my favorite simply because they’re blue and just a wonderful cat in the series! They also get to look at the lady bug :)!

And that’s all! Y’all are cool Peeps, keep on rocking!

[possesseddesiress]

Bass Drop: Body Swap

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue.

All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Bass Drop: Body Swap (English Version) + Extended version

I hated my brother. He was five years older than me, and we were definitely polar opposites in every way. If you ever saw us on the street, I don't think you'd ever think we had any blood ties; and in personality, it was the same.

He was the typical athlete: big, strong, muscular and handsome, he had the girls at his feet and everything went well for him.

And on the other side was me. Thin, small, with geeky tastes and incredibly clumsy. He always used to tease me about my looks, making derogatory comments about how I looked like spaghetti or that without an ounce of muscle I was a girl. I was fed up, but what could I do? No doubt years and years of him teasing me had somehow made me get used to it all. Until the day the glass finally fell over.

— Please, Chris, I want to go to the concert, you know how much I love electronic music!

— I already told you no, shorty - my brother mumbled as he saw what clothes he would wear tomorrow for EDC.

One of the most important music concerts, and the one I wanted to go to with all my might. It was clear that I was a fan of the music, although I was also curious about the whole atmosphere there. The guys used to wear clothes so tight that they left nothing to the imagination, suspenders, bows, harnesses. It looked like a gay pride parade if you saw it up close, and I want to see it.

— You and your friends have an extra ticket! Let me go! Chris, please! - I begged him while he just ignored me.

— And that ticket we're going to sell, pff. How do you think we're going to pay for part of the other tickets? Reselling is good business.

— Then I'll pay you, sell it to me

I said, almost on the verge of despair. My brother stopped what he was doing, only to let out a mocking laugh in my face.

– You're not going, silly - he denied still laughing - not even mom and dad are going to let you go in the first place.

– Yes they will, just give me the ticket!

– No - he said sharply - I'm not going to sell it to you even if you give me extra money, this is only for real men, not wimps like you - he boasted. Widening his chest with mockery.

I could only press my lips together in anger before leaving his room to lock myself in mine. I felt so much annoyance, anger and rage at that moment, but what could I do? He was older and even worse. He would go to the concert.

Defeated, I sat on the bed. For a while I was crestfallen until I felt my cell phone buzz, I picked it up to see the loading screen, as if it had just updated. Once it was back to normal, I couldn't help but notice that there was a new app called "Possess".

I opened it right away, noticing the slightly odd interface and the app's instructions, "Possess whoever you want. Select the data."

There was a section to enter my data and the other person's data. I felt ridiculous, I even thought it was a virus, although curiosity called me to give it a try. I filled in both fields and clicked on the button that said "Own", it stayed loading.

And nothing happened in a minute, I clicked the button again to get the same result over and over again.

Annoyed, I threw my phone across the room, to close my eyes, tired and annoyed at not being able to go to the concert of my dreams.

The next morning, I felt very different. Heavy... yet strangely invigorated, I opened my eyes, confused as I looked around, I was no longer in my room but my brother's room. It smelled of sweat, there were sports posters, cars and so on on the walls, a typical sportsman's room. I stood up confused.

– Chris?... - I mumbled. Noticing my new baritone. I looked down, only to find my brother's big muscles that now seemed to be mine – Oh fuck!

I couldn't help but scream. I began to explore my new body, caressing my pecs and abs, my huge biceps. God, he was huge!

I smiled in satisfaction at my new body, I even felt the outline of my new member, my unhappy brother certainly got the best genes.

I was still lost in that exploration of myself, with my new smell, I think I could spend hours smelling myself... but then I remembered the concert, now I could go and there would be nothing to stop me!

Without waiting a second longer, I started getting dressed up for the festival, I would have liked to wear some revealing and tight fitting clothes on my older brother's body... but there was nothing in his closet that would stick to that fantasy, so I just put on some jogger pants, and a sweatshirt tied at the waist, I looked kind of silly.... But hey.

My brother's body was hot, who cared if he looked ridiculous, you better see the size of these pecs!

I also put on some sunglasses and painted my new body with neon paint. Once I was ready, I took my brother's car to go straight to the festival. I thought it would be hard to learn how to drive, but the moment I touched the steering wheel, it was like an automatic knowing it.

I felt a strange thrill akin to excitement as they scanned my ticket and let me in, the music booming loudly. There were thousands and thousands of people in outlandish costumes, dancing or just chatting.

My heart was pounding. For some reason, I felt small and misfit, even being in such a huge body; it wasn't long before several people started noticing me, and smiling at me.

They were looking at me. They were... Flirting? For some reason, that seemed to be an adrenaline rush to boost my confidence. I stuck out my chest in a self-centered way, moving through the crowd, smiling at the occasional guy who kept overlooking my body. Gosh... it felt so good to be this muscular.

The rest of the evening and day I did nothing but dance, listen to the music and admire my new attributes from time to time. Caressing my pecs, or feeling my arms.

Or my scent, it took all my willpower not to start sniffing and licking my armpits right there. Although, what if I did? Others would surely be attracted to all the acting of this body, after all, I now had the physique of a god.

I also loved to notice how other guys tried to flirt with me, carelessly squeezing my biceps or directly staying inches away from my lips with theirs, one even almost sniffed my armpit under the pretext that it was a joke!

The music was vibrating loudly, every now and then I would raise my arms to make them flex, seemingly dancing. Everything felt great, the attention, the music, the smell!

Believe it or not, so many guys dancing for hours on end really put a stink in the air. But fuck... It didn't bother me, I loved it. I could feel my brother's relief stiffen every time the smell hit my nose. Maybe my brother's body could be straight with him in control, but with me controlling him...

At first I tried to restrain myself and show "respect" to his body, it had already been crossing a boundary to have stolen the festival experience from him and become him. Although that feeling lasted for at least about 10 minutes before I remembered all the hell he was making me live through on a daily basis - 《 Fuck it, what does it matter if I do something that affects him? It's my turn to enjoy 》

I could feel the stares of several guys. Some muscular, others slim or with defined bodies, but they all shared one thing: They were ogling this body.

I smiled egocentrically, raised my arms to flex them, swelling my big, strong biceps. It was like making them drool.

Although in that process, I could smell something... heck. I forgot to put on deodorant. My brother had a very strong, musky, potent scent that immediately made me gasp when I smelled it. I lifted my armpit, and unable to contain myself any longer, I began to sniff and lick it, enjoying the stench of my new body.

This seemed to disgust some of the guys, but others were even more interested by this act. In a matter of mere seconds, I had at least seven guys of all complexions surrounding me, taking a bit of advantage of the darkness in the area to move their hands all over my muscles.

One was on my relief, another took my pecs, another my buttocks, even my arms and abdomen, it was as if no inch of my body was left unattended.

But, hey... This body belongs to a god. And it deserves to be worshipped. So if they want to play, let them play. I don't give a fuck if someone records and they notice my "brother" behaving like this. It's my body now. And if I want him to be addicted to flexing his arms and smelling his own scent, so be it.

I closed my eyes, lost in all that adrenaline until I heard a familiar voice.

–Chris?!?

Shit. I opened my eyes quickly to meet the gaze of Mauricio, one of my brother's best friends, I was about to get nervous. But I preferred to put on an indifferent and cold face.

– Sup, bro? - I lifted my armpits a little more so that my new admirers would continue in despair. Which caused commotion in the guy.

Mauricio was certainly cute, a little dark, strong and huge... and apparently his suit left nothing to the imagination, he didn't even look like one of those typical "straight" suits that were simply a sport shirt. He was wearing a denim suit, tight and flashy. He looked so good...

– What the fuck, dude? You didn't answer your cell phone for hours! And what are you doing!

He clearly looked upset, but I just smiled arrogantly at him.

– Well, I had other plans. Sorry I didn't call, I guess. Don't be so dramatic - I let out a deep laugh.

– Are you on drugs? What's wrong with you? Hey! What with Samantha!?

Ah, so that's the name of the new girl my brother has a crush on, interesting to know now.

– Nah, bro. I'm completely lucid, and I don't know. I think I like men more now - I smiled –And from what I see, maybe you do too.

I lowered my gaze, pointing to the relief forming on his face. The sportsman immediately covered himself up; I was loving the whole performance, although it seemed that my new admirers got bored because little by little they ended up dispersing until there were none left.

I took advantage of that to shorten the distance, immediately approaching to cling to his contour.

– Bro! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?

– I don't know, dude. Maybe I realized that you are very hot - I murmured to finally kiss him with intensity, it was inconclusive until he ended up kissing me again. I felt how he grabbed me by the waist to stick me to him.

– Chris... - he murmured panting. I moved closer to him to lift his armpit and start sniffing it, it smelled even better than my brother's...

– What? - I said still nonchalantly.

All that adrenaline was taking me through the roof, I could feel the outline of my brother's armpit against his underwear and leave it a little damp. I didn't care if it ruined his friendship with Mauricio, if his other friends or his social circle found out. Fuck, if his college found out about all this, even better.

God, it's so cool to be my big brother!

---

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This will be my new account, I hope you like the stories that are coming soon. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

---

[thylacines-toybox]

hi there! do you have any bocchetta plush toys, and would you consider them good plush or not? asking cause i know bocchetta does some thylacine plush, and i just recently moved to australia and im trying to find good plush brands over here, so i dont have to spend ludicrous amounts on shipping for brands like douglas (plus im just missing american brands in general due to homesickness, haha) thanks so much for the help, and apologies for the bother!

(Ah, now you know the sadness of seeing all the gorgeous Douglas plushies and being unable to get them... C'mon Douglas, share your toys...)

I have a few from Bocchetta yes! Obviously including All The Thylacines, but also a quoll, a numbat, a dingo, and several Tasmanian devils! They do a lot of Aussie wildlife especially which I'm into, and tons of cat and dog breeds too, and they all look really nice imo! They generally have high quality soft and dense fur, nice realism, and are pretty reasonably priced for what you get.

I decided to do some reviews and recommendations below!

First, if I were to recommend just one thylacine, I'd go for the biggest standing one, 'Cooper' (aka. Caper here). They do make their thylas very short-faced which is an odd choice tbh, but in the larger sizes they look a bit less stubby! Also they always make them in this smooth, short, not-quite-minky fur which is... fine. But I wish they'd make a properly furry thylacine like the majority of their animals! It'd be so nice! At least they get huge ear floof.

But also: get the slap bracelet! It's amazing and silly and we don't talk enough about how a thylacine slap bracelet exists. You can order it directly from Bocchetta's site. Oh boy, they're even on sale!

It's also softer than their other thylas for some reason and just really nice?? Honestly you could even remove the slap band part and just have a lovely little sprawled mini thylacine.

This dingo is 'Max' and is very nicely designed! I especially love the shape of the ears, which are really deep and 3D, you can stick your finger in em... There are several different dingos in different poses and I see there's even a white one which is cute!

Despite his sprawling pose he is not floppy, although the website says he is? Maybe they changed his design a bit since I got mine a while back? I actually remember him being pretty solidly stuffed and I removed a little stuffing just to make him squishier, but he is still sturdy enough to easily stand upright like a tripod... Ready to launch! Heh, he looks like he's jumping for that toy above.

I really love the quolls! They are specifically Eastern quolls, and they actually have the black morph too which is cool! Kinda want it too! Just super cute little guys. There's also a slightly larger version.

There's only one numbat but it is delightful... Though, depending on your sensory sensitivities your mileage may vary! The type of fur on most of the body is a little coarser than others, which I personally don't mind too much, it still feels pretty smooth when stroked flat. The legs are the usual softness. The ears however were originally a grippy-feeling fabric that I'm not keen on, so I replaced them with minky!

The stripes are printed or airbrushed onto the fur with no difference to the texture, proving that it'd be totally possible for them to do the stripes on a properly furry thylacine, come on guys...

This one also had some wire skeleton in the legs, which was kind of bizarre as it has short legs and stands up just fine anyway! If you're up for a simple bone removal surgery you can improve the cuddliness with no downsides.

Feel like I've been a bit harsh on this one haha, but I really do like him. Looks lovely, a generous size, cuddly enough for me, and his super fluffy long tail is excellent.

The devils! There's quite a few different devils available, including three in the kind-of-loafing pose (this one's the medium 'Diego') and uh. There's a golf club cover. Huh.

Anyway, big fan of these devils! I think the loaf pose is just adorable, and Diego is lovely and super squishy and cuddly. I bet the larger sized 'Rupert' is even cuddlier, he looks delightfully chonky.

The two sitting devils are 'Ebony' and 'Zippy' who come as pair with Zippy stitched in between mum's paws, though they're easy to separate and you get a two-for-one! Ebony is especially beautiful and her fur is fluffier and extra soft. Originally their sitting pose was quite proud with rather long forelegs on both, so I adjusted them slightly to make the pose more neutral, but that's just preference really. They're not bad the way they come. Definitely recommend this pair or a Rupert!

To conclude:

Pretty good toys overall!

Sometimes need a little adjustment... But that's just me lol. No brand is too good for my meddling.

Get a slap bracelet!

Just look closely at the fur textures if you might be sensitive to that. Looking at the dogs for example, I think some such as the cattle dog may use similar fur to the numbat, but most of them do look like the nice soft fur from here.

I also spotted that they offer a weighted upgrade to any of their plush when you buy them direct from the Bocchetta site? That sounds interesting.

Oh and one more thing: the tags all use comic sans. You know it's good stuff.

I'll also point you to this shop, Stuffed With Plush Toys, which I ordered several of these from in the past before they stopped shipping to the UK (I think their eBay store still does though). Some other brands to explore in there too!

[you-and-him]

OH MY GOD HERMIT!!!! how are you? I hope you’re taking of yourself. Geez I do have an ask I really do, but I’m just so excited that I get to talk to one of my many (if not biggest) inspirations. It was your work that got me into visual novel. I don’t mean to give you a big head but this right now is like talking to a superstar.



Now, of course, my first ask is about to be about Adam

If possible, can you drop some like random facts about him if they don’t spoil anything, of course

This is so cool once again being able to actually engage with you in this way. It’s an honour thank you.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Well now my ego has been inflated uvu /silly

But hi! Life has been life, but I'm trying to do what I can. I'm glad my VN was able to open up you up to more wonderful VN's though! 💙

As for random tidbits about Adam that doesn't spoil things (these may have already been previously stated, but I'll list some and try to give a few newer pieces of info alongside of it).

Adam is a huge cuddler and will go full Koala bear on you. You want to get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? I wish you the best. He's latched on.

I've head cannoned that Adam cannot swim.

Adam was actually a pretty sweet kid. As a kid he likely would've cried over a scrape when he fell or tripped over something. No doubt he probably cried if he saw injured animals or the like.

Adam is not a fan of sweets. But doesn't mind if you like them. He might try to bake you some, but I don't know if it would go over well (He can cook though.)

Adam loves animals. If he hadn't become a singer and if certain things didn't happen the way that they did, he would've become a vet.

Adam can't hold his liquor (as I depicted in artwork before). He also gets really touchy and affectionate to a point where you might have to put a door between you two to get him to stop following you around. (Though he might start begging for you to come back. He's needy.)

Adam is 6'4 in height and *ahem* 10 inches elsewhere. May the odds be ever in your favor with that one.

Adam's a pretty avid reader. He particularly likes nonfiction books centered around animals, but he delves into other genre's too.

Adam's extremely organized and keeps a tidy place (though the reason he does it is different in comparison to King who just straight up enjoys cleaning.)

[digitalmidnight]

Project Eden's Garden Predictions

This is meant to be silly. Spoilers in post and in tags

There's a really big influencer light and Kai just walks right up to it and gets fried like a moth. Kai is a victim.

An area opens up with remote controlled RC cars. During the race, everyone hits the sand bags at least once. The sand bags start leaking pink. They open it like a cocoon. The butterfly was broken upon the wheel. Kai is a victim.

Toshiko forces Kai to watch teen rom-coms with her. Kai is a victim.

Grace goes "Screw you Damon. The man I shared a bed with is gone, so I'm killing the man you share a bed with." Kai is a victim.

Damon was supposed to die in Chapter 4. Kai becomes aware of the plan, but ends up dying himself to save Damon. This kickstarts a series of events (like the butterfly effect) that lead to Damon finally being fully into being part of the group and ending the killing game. Kai and his killer are treated as martyrs. Kai is a victim.

Same thing as above but Damon commits a murder instead. He gets away with it. It doesn't matter anyways. Kai was a victim.

Damon goes: "so how did the victim die?" Kai says: "Like this!" Kai is a victim.

Eloise is training late at night and sees Kai acting odd. A misunderstanding happens where she doesn't know it's Kai specifically. Still, she believes whoever she saw, which just happened to be Kai, was a horrible, irredeemable person. She makes him suffer. Kai is a victim.

Jean kills Kai for his attempt at French. Jean is a bigger victim. Kai is a victim.

A big plot involving handwritten murder notes pops up. Except the handwriting is atrocious (in trial, there's confusion whether it's Damon or Demond. Also Mark vs Ultimate Marksman). Kai ended up getting killed because the killer confused his last name with Grace's. Kai is a victim.

Diana gets Kai because chameleons eat butterflies and she was hungie. Kai is a victim.

Kai does a little hip bonk to get an item out of the machines. The machine falls over and breaks. Mara gets him. Kai is a victim.

The casts gets it into their heads that this situation is like V3. They totally consented, this is a television show, and all their fans are routing for them. Cassidy and Kai end up fighting to the death for the sake of their fanbase. Kai is a victim.

Someone pops Kai's pool inner tube. He does not float like a butterfly. Kai is a victim.

Ingrid knocks Kai upside the head with a horny jail hammer. And by that I mean sledgehammer. Kai is a victim.

Kai makes it to the very end where the garden itself is starting to crumble. They come across a statue of two men. The boulder that the Cain statue was holding falls. Kai is a victim.

Wenona wants to get out and somehow clocks Damon, Ulysses and Kai to be the only people smart enough to rat her out. Theres a sleepover between a lot of people in Ulysses room to try and research about where they are. The room fills with gas that Ulysses can't smell. The gas is denser than air. Kai, who was sleeping on the ground, is found before anyone else can be affected and the attempt at getting him to fresh air gets everyone else out of danger. Kai is a victim.

Jett goes "I like cars" and suddenly a car appears out of nowhere and hits Kai. Kai is a victim.

Kai begs Mark to listen to his super cool music idea. "Trust me it's so cool and you just have to make it but it's a billion dollar idea. I'll pay you in exposure. It'll totally pay for itself-" Kai is a victim.

"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush". Two strangulation victims are found. You would think it would be the two women with bird motifs, but only one of them is. Kai is a victim.

It's a simulation. Kai is a bug in the program. Tozu removes him. Kai is a victim.

Kai discovers Mukuro Ikusaba. The sixteenth student, lying hidden somewhere in Eden's Garden. The one they call the Ultimate Despair. He didn't watch out for her. Kai is a victim.

Kai gets really messy in a bathroom with his hair dye. The pink smears make him look like the killer. The class gets it wrong and everyone is a victim. Kai is a victim.

Desmond is dared to hit a target. This triggers a trap which kills Kai. There is a debate over if whoever set the trap is the killer, or if whoever hit the target was the killer. Doesn't matter to Kai what the answer is. Kai is a victim.

Damon is too comfy cozy to get up. There is nothing containing Kai except for Damon sleeping on top of him. Kai starves to death. Kai is a victim.

[janitorhutcherson]

you know a character we don’t speak about enough? billy from burn. okay, not one of the best movies ever, but unpopular opinion: one of my fave characters. he’s just so SCRUMMY!

on that note: headcanons.

cw: nsfw towards the end (knife play, gunplay, rough activities), mostly fluff! drug usage, fire (mwah no skin), hinted (but is he really) death

• although he may have robbed a place, billy isn't an evil person. in fact, he's extremely well loved by the community. he's the type of man to help old ladies with their groceries, tip well at coffee shops ... at least as well as he can. this is why when it went public that billy had robbed a place, many people were in shambles. "you mean sweet, sweet lil ol' billy? are you sure? oh my goodness, what has that boy gotten himself into?"

• before he started dwindling in some not-so-great activities and found himself owing a bunch of money, billy was an 'aspiring' artist. he'd play his guitar sometimes at the local bars. people would tell him "you could be something one day, y'know," and billy would just scoff and laugh -- but deep down? he'd dreamt of maybe, just maybe getting out of his silly town and being something, but he knew it wasn't possible.

• billy wasn't always the mess he is now. at one point, he had a full on family, hopes and dreams, but he pushed almost everyone away in an attempt to keep them from being dragged into his mess of a life. that is, everyone except you. you'd been the constant shining star in his life, refusing to let him push you any further. you'd clean his wounds after bar fights, tuck him into bed when he'd drank too much, and even take care of him when you were scared he'd OD. he hated putting you in those situations, but he knew he could never get you to leave.

• billy is the type of boyfriend to not let you lift a finger, for the most part. you do so much to keep him safe, to take care of him when he is at his absolute worst, that he won't even let you so much as make your own glass of water. before you can even fully stand up, he's up on his feet, asking what he can do for you. "hungry, darling? need something to drink? a bath? what can I do for you? just tell me and it's yours." while billy was nice to everyone, he would only do anything for you.

• billy is super protective. given his traumatic past of losing people he loves, hurting people he loves, and witnessing awful things, he is constantly on edge. the moment something seems off in a situation, his eyes stay on whatever or whoever seems odd, his arms staying wrapped around you. he's ready to pounce at the slightest movement. on that topic, nobody wants to know what happened last time someone tried to catcall you. lets just say the guy left with a black eye and billy left with an upset partner who kept scolding him for going a little too far.

• he's a huge softie. he'll buy you flowers, burn CDs for you, sing sweet little songs in his sultry voice with a little rasp from smoking. he loves holding you and swaying to music, kissing behind your ear and holding you in bed. he's BIG on physical touch, because he's afraid if he lets go, you'll dissipate in his arms, ceasing to exist as if you were only a dream. while he is a major romantic, it's only for you. god forbid you point it out, or he'll get all grumpy and pouty, a deep crimson blush on his cheeks, grumbling on and on about how annoying it is when you point is out. "oh shut up, I'm your boyfriend, okay? I'm, like, just bein' good to you and stuff, like a boyfriend does."

• while billy is a sweet and gentle lover, in bed it's a different story. of course he'd take care of you after, but during, he'd ram into you with direct eye contact, hand wrapped around your neck. vile insults and strings of curse words would come out of his mouth as he'd continuously abuse your insides. he's a big fan of knife play, too, carving his initials into your soft skin, watching as it bleeds, knowing you'd never be able to get rid of his mark. on top of that, he'd let you mark him too, because while he loved making sure everyone knew you were his, he wanted everyone to know he was yours.

• okay, let's get the obvious out of the way here. billy is a die hard gun owner. he's got a pistol he uses, and sometimes, billy likes to take the bullets out of it, and push the barrel into you, watching as you squirm. sometimes he'll stick it in your mouth, watching as your pretty lips wrap around the metal coo'ing soft words to you. "oh god, you're so pretty like this, baby. yeah, 's a good job, keep sucking, gorgeous..."

• as we all know, billy gets charred. crisped. scorched. cooked. grilled. roasted. seared. burnt. this is what seems to be his ultimate demise, until it's not..... but then it is again, at least we thought. in reality, billy barely escaped. he'd awoken up, pain all over. he tried his best to make his way back home, somehow, by the grace of god making it. when he showed up back home to you, worried as hell, and a little angry at him until you saw the state he was in. your anger instantly turned to worry as you rushed to his aid, gasping as you begged for an explanation. billy, being the stubborn man he is, simply weakly scoffed out, holding up a shaky palm as if to say 'wait.' "no need to get all worked up, darlin', it's just a little burn." to that, all you could do is roll your eyes as you got to work on trying to save your burnt boyfriend.

[tsamsheadcanons]

Eaps headcanons - or maybe au idk anymore it can be both

• Sunshine and Moonlight were originally designed to be performers, much like the majority of Suns+Moons across the multiverse. They both have some leftover codes, programs, and protocols from that initial setup. Sunny uses his more visibly, and the moment Ballora sees him go on-pointe to reach a spot on the playstructures, her brain does a dialup noise.

• speaking of Ballora - Eclipse? Her beastie. Sunshine and Moonlight? Her little siblings. No, this is not negotiable, she is now a big sister, don't be silly, moonpie, there's no escaping her love- (/hj)

• Sunny and Moon sometimes make small games together as a bonding experience - Moon handles the coding and Sun does the visuals and workshops the plot. ((Bonus - Moon is lowkey terrified by how good his other half is at making horror. The games come out GOOD but holy shit man...))

• While his anxiety means he trios and stumbles over his words, Sun's actually incredibly witty, sharp, and has sass for days - he just can't always get it out. So whenever Moon's fronting, there's a 50/50 chance he'll get a running roasting commentary if Sunny's in a mood. It's very difficult to keep his laughter at bay with the more... creative ones.

• Eclipse survives on caffeine, carbs and spite. Unfortunately for him, Ballora and Sunny have spoiled him with coffees and he cannot for the life of him figure out how to replicate it. He refuses to ask, and they never tell. He just sort of... pouts scowls until they come to gift him his blessed beverage

• FC likes Sunshine and Moonlight a lot - they're like.... weird young uncles who might also lowkey be cousins maybe he doesn't really know. Or care. But they're fun!

• Sunny gets Extra Weird around magical/paranormal stuff. Not in an anxious way - or rather, he does, but there's more to it. His systems go a little haywire and his fans kick on, his sensory array gets oddly tingly, and he can feel Something begin to bloom in and around his face and chest. Not knowing makes him panic, and Moon usually takes over once it hits a certain threshold. They've yet to mention it to anyone.

• Puppet scares Sunny, just a bit. Not because of her past or anything, but because she sets his arrays on FIRE in close proximity ((see above)), and they have a tendency to feel... fake? Sometimes?? Almost coddling, but also forcefully so??? It's hard to explain. He likes her well enough, and wants to be friends!! But there's odd undercurrents.

• Moon doesn't like Lefty. Like... at all. He's cordial and civil, but he's not a fan of that bear. The way he bulldozes over others, how he cornered Sunny, the way he treats everyone - it sets Moonlight's teeth on edge.

• Sunny loves sorting things by shape, size, and hexadecimal code. He has absolutely debated the logistics of color coding the ballpit.

• Moon likewise enjoys alphanumerical organization.

• Ballora and Eclipse do spa nights where they watch trashy reality TV, wear comfy pajamas, gossip and occasionally do makeovers. Clip will die before admitting he enjoys it.

I love your headcanons!

[thetarttfuldickhead]

There was this post a little while back suggesting that Beard gets kicked out by Jane and moves in with Higgins and that’s very narratively satisfying and right, given that Leslie’s the one person daring to tell Beard that his relationship with Jane isn’t, you know, great. However, I’m a Roy & Jamie girl at heart, so I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Beard instead moved in with his fellow fan of few words, ie one Roy Kent.

Say, for instance, that Roy and Jamie are fucking/dating/what have you and Jamie gets it into his pretty, silly head that they can somehow hide the fact from Beard. Roy tells him stop being an idiot, of course he’s going to know if he’s staying here, only way to keep it from him if you keep away until he finds another place to live, and fuck no, I’m not moving in with you, how the fuck would I explain that, and anyway your fucking headboard would give me a migraine.

Well, Jamie says mulishly, I’m not staying away.

Fine, Roy says, secretly a little relieved. So he’ll know. Big fucking deal.

And in this version of events Roy really is cool with it, because it has to come out sooner or later and he’s not ashamed and it’s not like Beard’s gonna say anything (Roy may or may not be mistaken in this assumption), and anyway, he’s Roy Kent, he does whatever the hell he wants, okay. Only Jamie doesn’t accept that, because he has this strong and somewhat misguided notion that he needs to defend Roy’s honour by not letting anyone suspect he’s fucking his player. So Jamie starts making up increasingly absurd excuses as to why he should show up at Roy’s place like having some work done at my house and Roy was concerned I’d be breathing in poisonous fumes, yeah, so he said I had to come over here and um, Coach, I think I strained my calf today, could you maybe take a look here in the bedroom ‘cause my back hurts too and I need to lay down and yeah, Beard’s eyebrows are not as psychotic as Roy’s but they certainly climb and climb and climb. Later in the evening he just glances at Roy, so, you and Jamie, huh? And Roy shrugs, unconcerned, yeah, and pours himself another cup of tea. He doesn’t tell Jamie that they’ve been made, though; it’s still kind of fun watching the muppet make a fool of himself. Besides, the idea of their encounters being particularly illicit seems to really get Jamie going, so.

Alternatively, Jamie agrees to stay away, and then proceeds to do everything in his power to set Beard up with someone else so that Beard can be happy and move in with his new friend and Jamie can go back to shagging his grumpy old boyfriend all over the house. The attempts are predictably absurd, but also oddly sweet (‘cause Jamie wants the relationship to last, right, so that Beard doesn’t come knocking on Roy’s door again anytime soon, so obviously he needs to find someone properly nice, but it’s hard for him to figure what nice means to someone as odd as Beard).

(These two scenarios work if Keeley’s part of the mix, too, btw. She can either join in Jamie’s antics because she’s a weird girl at heart, or she can be the voice of reason if a voice of reason is what gets you going.)

Or say that Roy and Jamie really are just friends (for the moment, at least) and it’s Roy that gets a little nervous about Beard realizing just how close they are. Like, he’s reluctantly cool with everyone knowing that Jaime is his favourite player (though of course he’d deny it if someone dared say it to his face) or them knowing that Roy spends stupid amounts of time torturing training Jamie, but he’s not quite comfortable having people know that they also just… hang out. That Roy cooks Jamie dinner. Leaves Phoebe with him when Roy’s busy with a coaching crisis. That they watch stupid shit on the telly together, and that Roy doesn’t complain (much) when Jamie curls up to him like a cat. That stuff’s private, all right? So he stops having Jamie over, starts brushing him off, and at first Jamie’s undeterred because if he let Roy’s grumpiness get to him he’d never not be gotten to, but Roy persists and Jamie starts to wilt, hurt and confused. In the end, Beard – wise, all-seeing Beard – fixes Roy with one long stare and notes that there’s nothing wrong with having a friend, Coach. Plenty wrong with being shit to the ones you’ve got, though, and Roy doesn’t even yell fuck he just stands there, stony like, until he jerks a short nod and stalks off to make things up to Jamie.

Anyway, the idea of Beard bearing witness to Roy and/or Jamie being particularly ridiculous about each other is very funny, to me.

(I tried to hunt down that original post because even though I didn’t want to add to it and derail OP’s poignant take with my Roy & Jamie obsession, I still want to credit them for the original idea. Couldn’t find it, however, but please give me a shout if you have a link. Aha! @coachbeards is the original galaxy brain!)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Next chapter

a/n look I am wine drunk and I have thoughts. 🤷‍♀️

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

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It was silly truly. You weren’t big fan of parties. You didn’t ever go out really. In the beginning, it was because people didn’t invite you anywhere. You weren’t the cool kid and nerds, well, they aren’t loved all that much through high school. Then you simply outgrow that phase. Life and real responsibilities caught up with you and now you would rather spend your time at home, curled up with a book than drag yourself home from god knows what parts of the city at odd hours.

But this Friday was different. Your friend and her partner were hosting a shared birthday party. And while you could have excused yourself if it was only her boyfriend's party now that she was also celebrating hers, it meant that you didn’t have it in yourself to lie through gritted teeth. So that’s how you found yourself a homemade pie in hand, flowers beneath your armpit as you waited for someone to open the door.

“Y/n”, a loud squeak made a smile break out on your face, “And with your infamous pie. Matt, she brought the pie I told you about”, Emmy turned back, yelling over the corridor. “Oh, I’m so glad you could make it”, she clasped your upper arm in excitement, “It’s just been me and the guys, need to balance it out, you know”, she chuckled, ushering you inside.

“Everyone this is Y/n, the best friend!”, Emmy skipped into the kitchen, gesturing to you as if you were the prized possession that had to be shown off. You felt your face heating up immediately. You hated being put in a spotlight like that, yet you managed to give an awkward wave. Trying to listen in to all the names shouted around the room. Letting your eyes fall from face to face carelessly. The chances of meeting these people…

Your gaze halted as you did a double take. Bringing your gaze back to those warm chocolate orbs that looked directly at you. It seemed as if everyone had moved on. Bickering about toppings for pizza. But it’s as if you two had been glued, nether managing to look away. “Matt, the boyfriend”, you blinked a couple of times turning your attention to the side. “So the friend finally meets the infamous man”, you chuckled under your breath, leaning into the side hug he was offering. “She talks loads of you, shame I’m only meeting you now”, Matt smiled at you and you quickly returned the gesture, “Trust me, I know awfully a lot about you too”. “Should I be worried?”, he chuckled, eyes falling on Emmy, fighting her way over cheese by the counter. “No, it’s mostly good stuff”, you shrugged, as you both chuckled to yourselves.

While the evening was fun the more the time passed the more the house turned into a frat party. You glanced at your phone for what felt like a thousand times. The location of your apartment was typed into the Uber app almost an hour ago, making you feel like a shit friend since for the most part all you had been thinking about was going home. That and the brown eyes that had followed you through the night.

“Wine?”, you flinched slightly, locking your phone. “Or are you already going somewhere else?”, startled you turned to the voice behind you, ready to give your best excuse only to feel them all die down at the sight of the same brown eyes. You simply turned your glass towards him, while trying to come up with anything proper to say.

“I’m Noah by the way”, he mused tilting the bottle to fill up your glass once more. “Yn”, you muttered. “Oh, I remember”, he smiled up at you, making your cheeks turn crimson even more. “Sorry, just so many people and faces, I’m awful with names”, you whined giving him an apologetic smile. Noah simply shook his head, “Trust me, it’s almost refreshing”. You let his words wash over you as you both fall into silence once more.

“So… Where were you planning to run off to and can I join?”, Noah’s words took by surprise as you turned to him once more. A light chuckle slipped past your lips, “I was planning on going home”, you admitted with a little shrug. “Matt’s cooking not to your liking?”, his words instantly sent panic running through your veins. “Oh, no, no, it was so good. Emmy talks about his food so much and…”, you instantly felt like defending yourself, “Hey, I’m only joking”, Noah cut in, “I didn’t… Shit did I just get you all worked up over that?”, he ran a hand over his mouth looking at you.

You started at one another for a while before both falling into fits of laughter. “Sorry, shit, it’s been a while”, Noah shook his head. “No, it’s fine, I’m too introverted for this”, you brushed him off, reaching for your glass. “Can I be honest?”, Noah asked, stepping closer so he could stand beside you. You simply nodded, watching him take a sip out of the bottle. “I haven’t been able to look away from you”, he admitted, “Sounds so fucking childish but… There’s something about you”, Noah mussed turning to look at you once again. “Maybe it’s the wine?”, you shrugged, trying to not let his words make your heartbeat pick up. “I was dead ass sober when I first saw you, sweetheart”, he muttered, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you tried to keep that smile at bay. His fingers carefully caressed your jaw before brushing over the bottom of your lip. “You would never like me sober”, you mussed pulling back. “And how would you know that?”, he pushed on, determined to keep you close. “I’m nothing like Emmy”, you pointed out, glancing back towards the kitchen where people were dancing around the counter. “Who said that I like girls like Emmy?”, Noah’s words made a shiver run down your back. “Guys always choose girls like her over girls like me”, you chuckled, taking an eager gulp of the wine in your glass. The last thing you needed was to unload years of insecurities onto a stranger.

“Funny, girls only started looking at me now, I was never the first choice”, Noah shrugged making you glance back at him. “Yeah, right”, you snorted, not able to imagine a universe where someone would pass an opportunity to date someone like him. “A strange nerd with a lisp doesn’t rank highly, darling”, he grunted making you frown, “Don’t say that about yourself”, you argued back. “Ah… But you can put yourself down?”, he smirked back at you with that knowing grin.

“Fine, we both are weird. Happy now?”, you shook your head. “Would be happier if you would go on a date with me”, Noah’s words sent another cold shower down your back. You watched him for a heartbeat. He looked like a lover boy. A black hoodie, sweet eyes. That smile. Only the tattoos covering his hands indicated a more dangerous side of him. The side you had a feeling would pull you under. “Very funny, but I’m not falling for this”, you shot him a tight smile, reminding yourself that there wasn’t a universe where a guy like him would fall for a girl like you. “You don’t know me, yet you are putting labels on me”, his hand wrapped around your upper arm as he made you halt in your tracks, “you wound me, sweetheart”, Noah muttered, leaning in.

“And who’s worried about how much you will wound me?”, your words seemed to sober him up in an instant. A frown replaced a smile that was previously there. “Why would I…”, he breathed out. “Thank you for the wine”, you lift your glass slightly towards him, “And for the chat. Tell Matt he’s a wonderful cook”, you cheered him, clicking your glass with the bottle in his hand before turning away from him. Heart beating so fast in your chest, it was making you dizzy.

“Hold on, YN”, you heard his voice as you moved across the room, avoiding contact with people. Quickly lowering your glass onto the nearest table before heading towards the door. You couldn’t look back even if everything in your body screamed for you to. Noah’s voice hunted you till you slipped outside, hurrying towards the gate, hands quickly looking for the first possible Uber.