#but also I love and miss and appreciate you

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (49/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Climbing up the mountain can be very freeing.

Warnings: angst (self-doubt, insecurities, mentions of abuse in a relationship, Charles is very insecure about himself), the end is a bit fluffy, but don't expect too much

Word Count: 4.1k

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A/N: I feel like this describes Charles well. I cried when writing this chapter. I hope you like it. feedback is appreciated.

It is the first time in years that Charles has no desire to climb the mountain on those stupid skis. 

His feet hurt, he is cold even though the jacket he is wearing is suitable for even colder temperatures, and his hands are so stiff from the frigid air that they painfully curl around his ski poles. 

The snow blinds him because of the bright sun, his bones feel heavy, somehow his mouth is so dry that he would like to rinse it with water every five meters.

But maybe that's just because he'd rather be at home in Monaco. Because that's where you are. And there is no place he would rather be right now. 

Closing the door behind him and leaving you alone in the apartment was incredibly difficult. He would have loved to put you in his bag and take you with him, but you would only have distracted him from training. 

And if he wants to be world champion one day, he can't afford to make any mistakes. 

It's been two days since he's seen you and heard your voice. In the morning, when he wakes up and gets ready for the day, you are still fast asleep, and during his training, Andrea has his phone so that Charles can collect his thoughts and stay focused. Only in the evening, when Charles is in bed, he manages to text you a few messages before falling asleep, cell phone in hand, completely exhausted. 

He misses you every second. 

Before he met you, he would never have imagined that he could miss someone he had only known for a few days so much. He had missed Annika from time to time, after all, he had definitely loved her at some point, but he had never longed for her or anyone else the way he did for you now. 

As soon as he has a moment to himself, whether it's in the shower or on the toilet or when Andrea isn't bothering him with calories or carbohydrates or protein for a moment, he misses you so much that he can almost feel the physical distance between you. 

But most of all, he misses you in the morning when he wakes up. When he is in that one second when he is neither sleeping nor fully awake. Snuggled up warm in the blanket and against the pillow, where in the evening he imagines it would be your body that he is snuggling up to. And in the morning, for a brief moment, it feels as if you are actually lying next to him, which is why the second he realizes that you are miles away from him hurts the most. 

“Are you okay?” Andrea asks, who has slowed down a little to run up the hill next to Charles. ”You're suspiciously quiet.”

Charles, who hasn't realized that he has slowed down at all, looks at his trainer in confusion. “Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

Andrea shrugs. ”Usually you're chattering away at me during training. That usually helps you to distract yourself from how exhausting it is.”

He has a point there. Charles pushes himself forward on his skis. “I don't know. This time I don't feel like you're torturing me up this mountain. It's still the same route we usually take, isn't it?” He looks around as if he can recognize the surroundings. 

Andrea raises his eyebrows and also picks up the pace. ‘We're in a completely different area, Charles.’ He points to another mountain with his gloved hand.

If his friend hadn't told him, the man from Monaco would never have noticed, so absorbed is he in his thoughts about you. The mountain Andrea is pointing to seems more familiar to him than the one in front of them. And a lot smaller. If they had taken the familiar route, they would have been at the summit long ago. 

“You asshole,” Charles curses and wipes his face. ‘Why did you choose a different mountain? And especially one that's higher?”

Andrea can't help but grin. ’You came in second in the championship this year. I'm hoping that if we increase your training, you'll come in first next season and...”

“And what?” Charles interrupts his trainer. "The whole thing is useless if my strategists and the whole team mess up so much during the race. I can train as much as I want. It won't work." He gets so caught up in it that he doesn't notice how quickly he pushes himself up the mountain on his skis. 

“Charles –”

“No, Andrea. This whole thing cost me the title. Wrong tires? Last-minute changes in the pit? What the hell?” he gets worked up. He knows that his anger is unfairly directed at the wrong person, after all Andrea is only there for Charles's well-being and not for what happens on the track, but it just comes spilling out. And he can't stop it. 

His ski poles dig deep into the white snow, which Charles barely notices. He only sees the summit in front of him and hears Andrea breathing loudly next to him as he continues to complain. 

“It's not right that I come in second because of such little things! If I had caused accidents, then at least it would have been my fault and I could have dealt with it more easily,” he says, annoyed. ”But what kind of stupid plans were these, anyway? Even a toddler could come up with a better strategy!”

Andrea, who knows full well that Charles needs to vent his anger, walks quietly beside him and lets the storm pass over him. It's not often that Charles gets this angry. And normally he blames himself, but he certainly doesn't take such serious mistakes on his head. 

Charles knows that making mistakes is an inevitable part of competition, and sometimes, they're the difference between standing at the top of the podium and finishing second. Being the runner-up in a championship can feel bittersweet – so close to victory, yet just short of it. 

Being second in the championship feels like a mix of pride and frustration. On one hand, Charles has achieved something incredible – outperforming almost everyone, proving his skill and showing that he deserves to sit in the red car with the horse on it. But on the other hand, there's that lingering thought inside of his head – he was so close. The tiniest mistakes, the small miscalculations in his strategies, or someone else having a slightly better day made the difference in the end. 

There's this ache inside of him, knowing he was almost the champion. The podium felt different when he looked up at Max Verstappen holding the trophy he desperately craved. Charles felt a lot of things in that moment – disappointment, regret and even anger – at himself, the situation, the team and at the margin that kept him from winning. 

“I could have won the title. Max will definitely win the next season too, as strong as Red Bull is. How will I ever live up to my reputation then?” He clenches his jaw. ”I feel like I'm stuck with what I'm doing now. And I'm doing my best, Andrea. I really am. But it's apparently not enough. Do you know how incredibly frustrating that is?”

Being second carries a unique weight – a strange middle ground between triumph and heartbreak. And hell, Charles heart broke with every race that put more distance between his and Max's points. He feels like a failure, like he failed his team, his family and friends. He failed his fans, that support him through every decision he makes on and off track, that defend him whenever he makes a mistake during races. 

And it haunts him. What if he had pushed just a little harder, made one less mistake, reacted a second faster? What if he made a different decision that would've outweighed the mistakes his team made? What if he became world champion in the famous red car he worked so hard to get into? The famous red car that his dad loved so much?

Disappointing his dad was the worst part of it all. It was a different kind of pain, heavy and crushing. It's not just about failing at something – Charles feels like he simply isn't good enough. Like he let someone down who believed in him. He could have been champion this year – he was so close to standing on top of the podium. What if he never gets this close to winning? What if he never holds the big trophy in his hands, dedicating it to his dad, who always wanted to see him drive in the Ferrari?

Charles' anger has been building up for so long that he doesn't know where to put it. If only he had concentrated more on the season and hadn't been so distracted by his personal problems - 

“And Annika. What a waste of time the whole thing was. I should never have gotten involved with her. I should have ended the relationship when I realized that she wasn't the one. When I realized that I couldn't give her the attention that a healthy relationship requires.”

Charles would never admit it, but Annika’s betrayal in their relationship cut deeper than expected. It’s not just about broken promises – it’s about broken trust, the foundation of any meaningful connection. It shook everything Charles believed to be true about Annika – or love in general. 

The worst part wasn’t the act itself or that he caught them right in the act, but the realization that someone he trusted with his heart made the choice to hurt him. After the break-up he questioned everything – was any of it real? Was Annika lying to him the whole time? Even after everything, the wounds linger. 

Some betrayals are survivable with time and effort, but others leave scars that never fully heal. They change people – it changed Charles. It hardened his heart, made love feel dangerous to him and made him create walls where there once was openness. 

He guarded himself like a survival instinct. At first, it was solely for protection – he told himself that if he didn’t let anyone in, nobody could hurt him. The walls became his shield, keeping out disappointment, rejection, and the risk of being vulnerable again. 

But over the course of the weeks, Charles noticed the walls he put up brick by brick didn’t just keep the pain out – they kept everything out. Love. Connection. The chance to feel something real. Hell, he didn’t even tell his Maman that he was back home in Monaco. He pushed his family away, his friends, acting cold and distant – not because he didn’t want love, but because he’s so scared of what happened when he let someone else in. 

It took Charles some time to figure out the truth, that the walls didn’t keep him safe and sound – they kept him stuck. They stopped him from healing, from growing, from experiencing the things that make life meaningful. But he was so scared of breaking them down when it took him so long to put them up, that he didn’t know what to do when he met you. 

It was terrifying, letting you in slowly and hesitantly. He’s spent so long guarding himself, convincing himself that no one except his close ones can be trusted, that it almost felt unnatural to let you in. At first, he resisted, kept his distance. But the fact that you didn’t even know who he was felt so good, made him feel safe to share his story with you and then – you stayed. You didn’t push too hard, but you didn’t walk away either. 

Surely, this friendship has had it’s ups and downs, but this is what happenes when two people, who protected themselves so much that they become too careful, too hesitant to let someone in fully. 

And instead of forcing your way through, you waited. You were there. You proved in small, consistent ways, that you’re not like the woman who made him built those walls in the first place. 

And then, without realizing it, he stopped expecting the worst. He let you see his wounds, his fears, his past, and instead of running, you stayed. You stayed with him through awkward dinner conversations about his ex, you stayed with him when he didn’t correct his family about your relationship status, you stayed when he overstepped the boundaries of your friendship. Your gentle touch, your honest conversations while burning Annika’s things. 

You stayed when he revealed to you who he really is. You see him – the real him – and don’t flinch at what you see. Little by little, cracks form in his defenses. He finds himself wanting to trust again, to love again, even though it scares him to death. 

When you look at him, it feels like sunlight creeping through the cracks in the fortress he thought were unbreakable. It was unsettling at first after being in the dark for some time. But you didn’t break down his walls in a dramatic, earth-shattering way. 

It was quiet. Subtle. It sneaked up to him in moments he didn’t even realize – they way you looked at him when he played your song on the piano in the bookshop, when you let him hold you while you cried like his arms were the safest place in the world, when you showed him that you want him for who he is. 

But even though you broke down most of his walls, he still can’t admit that you’re all he needs. 

He can’t let you in fully after what Annika did to him, he can’t let you touch him like he wants you to. He can’t let himself feel so much for you because what if those feelings he has for you – the feelings he swore he’d never harbour for anyone again – are not enough for you?

What if he gives you his all and you decide that it’s not enough? That he is not enough? He can’t tell you why he doesn’t want you to touch him, because what if you’ll see him differently? What if the things he wants, he needs, are different from what you want? 

He feels like he isn’t good enough. The scars Annika left on him made him question his worth, his value, his ability to be loved. There are moments where he feels too far gone, too damaged, not strong enough to break free from the fear of losing you that he’d rather keep you at arms length hurting himself than push you away and out of his life. 

He can’t let you touch him after Annika, because sex with her felt wrong, like he was broken because he wanted different things than her. Because he craved intimacy like his life depended on it, the safety that comes with it, but it always felt like he needed to deliver, even if he didn’t want to. It felt like a chore, no gentle touches or loving words, only demanding hands and lips and thighs and he swore to himself he’ll never let it happen again. 

If you don’t touch him at all, there’s no chance you could hurt him like that.

He’d rather give you all he’s able to give instead of letting you return anything.

“I could have waited for…”

“Charles.” Andreas‘ voice is gentle and soothing, in contrast to Charles’. When the man from Monaco looks at his friend, he smiles at him. ”We're here.”

The wind howls at the summit, biting and cold, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel it. He can’t feel anything except the weight that presses down on his chest. He stands there on top oft he world – and all the space in the world couldn’t quiet the chaos inside him. 

Andrea chose this route to help Charles clear his head, the mountain was supposed to be his escape, his victory. He climbed every inch of it, each slide of his skis pushing him further from the mess he feels inside. The view from the top is actually breathtaking: endless stretches of jagged peaks, skies that feel closer than ever. He should feel something – pride, accomplishment, freedom. But instead, there’s only the overwhelming silence that gnawed at him. 

For a moment, everything is still. He pulls his beanie and glasses from his head, closing his eyes and trying to ground himself in the beauty around him, but the images, the memories, everything – it all comes flooding back. The things he can’t outrun. The words that had been sad. The choices that had left him fractured and alone. 

A sob caught in his throat, sharp and unexpected and he falls to his knees in the white snow at his feet. The tries to fight it, but the tears come anyway – slow at first, then faster and harder. They burn against the cold wind, mixing with the salt of the sweat on his skin – and he can’t stop them. 

They stand for everything he hasn’t been able to say, everything he has be scared to face. He thought he could bury it, hide it behind the walls he built, behind the distance from it all. 

His hand tremble on his thighs, his chest tightening with every broken breath. His vision blurred, the edges oft he mountain fading into the background. It doesn’t matter that he’s at the top – he feels smaller than ever. The tears slip down his cheeks like a rush of a river too long dammed. 

„I’m not enough“, he whispered almost unaudibly. A confession only the mountains and his friend could hear. „I’m never going to be enough.“

The world stretched out before him, magnificent and indifferent, and in that moment, he realized that being on top oft he mountain didn’t mean escaping it all. He had climbed all this way, but he couldn’t outrun himself. The hurt, the mistakes, the weight of everything he’d buried deep inside. 

He doesnt flinch when he feels Andrea’s hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing and reassuring him that whatever he feels right now is okay. That the tears that fall down onto the snow have their right to exist after being bottled up for so long. 

The sobs faded, leaving him gasping for air in the stillness of the summit. He wiped his face, trying to wipe away the brokennes, but it lingered in his chest. His hands still trembling from the release, from the rawness that had bubbled to the surface. For a long moment, he just sits there, the wind biting at him, the emptiness inside him as a vast as the world stretched out before him. 

And then it hit him, like a sudden punch that knocked the breath from his lungs. 

You. 

Your laugh. Your smile. The way you always seem to know what he’s thinking, the way you care in the quietest ways – how you’ve been there for him, even when he pushed you away. How, despite everything, you stayed. 

He tried so hard to tell himself that he’s better off alone, that he doesn’t need anyone else to fill the empty spaces inside him. He thought he could bury his feelings, run from the truth. He has told himself that love was something to fear, something that could trap him, break him, leave him just as broken as he’d been before.

But now, sitting on top of the world, it all makes sense. 

He loves you. He always has. He can feel it in every part of him, the truth that has been there all along, buried under layers of fear and pride. It’s not something he can outrun, not anymore. He can’t ignore the way his heart always beats faster when you’re near, the way everything seems to fall into place when you smile at him, the way your presence has been the one thing that feels like home. 

The moment of realization hits him like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. It’s undeniable. 

He loves you.

Not in the casual, passing way he once tried to convice himself was enough for his relationship with Annika, but in a deeper, truer sense. It’s always been you – only you. Right from the start when the both of you stood in the small apartment. 

But the weight o fit, the sheer force of that truth, felt like it could crush him, especially when he realizes how long he’s been running from it. 

His heart races, pounding hard in his chest, but it isn’t the kind of excitement he thought would come with such a revelation. Instead, it is quiet terror. The terror of feeling too much. Of feeling anything at all. 

His breath comes in shallow gasps as the cold mountain air cuts through him. It isn’t the altitude or the wind that chills him – it’s the fear of being too vulnerable again. Of letting anyone close enough to hurt him. The thought of telling you, of exposing his raw, vulnerable part of himself, feels like standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to climb back down. 

He stares out over the vast horizon, the world stretching out endlessly beneath him, and for a moment, he considers it. The possibility of going back, of telling you everything he has just realized. But the thought of your eyes on him, the weight of the words, the vulnerability—it‘s too much. Too raw. Too dangerous.

So, he stays silent. He stays with the truth, buried deep inside of him. The love he feels for you is now his secret, locked away like a fragile thing, too delicate to share. He can‘t find the courage to let it out—not now, not after everything that had happened.

But there is something about knowing, about feeling it — just knowing that he can love again — that makes the world feel a little less heavy. It isn’t perfect, and it doesn‘t fix everything, but it is enough. For the first time in a long time, he doesn‘t feel so broken. He isn’t empty. He is filled with something — something soft, something he thought was gone forever.

Maybe he isn’t ready to tell you. Maybe he will never be ready. But the knowledge that love still exists in him — that it can still find him, even after everything — is enough to hold onto for now. It isn’t a victory, not in the way he wants, but it is a beginning. And in that, there is a quiet peace. A peace that, despite all the fear and hesitation, he coul still feel, still hope.

And that, for the moment, is enough.

[vroomvroommuppett]

five

lance stroll x leclerc!twin

summary: the one where collette is charles' twin but is a genius and owns her own company and after a big fight, she decides to invest in aston martin, and the rest is kinda explanatory

main masterlist | master list | taglist | buy me a coffee! | pateron | still taking requests! | feedback form!!

likes comments and reblogs appreciated!!

a/n some of the face claims will not be liz gilles, so please bear with me

a/n 2: i also have a rough idea of the next series...let me know if you want a rough summary...

©vroomvroommuppett | i do not give the right for my works to be posted, copied or translated anywhere.

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collettemargot

liked by lance_stroll, astonmartinf1, and others

collettemargot life lately 💚

tagged: lance_stroll

lance_stroll Love you

user her aesthetic >>>

user miss privacy could never

astonmartinf1 goals

fransisca.cgomes LINDAAAAAAAAA

user mommy

user love love love

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alexandrasaintmleux posted a story

[amour]

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collettemargot

liked by fransisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt, and others

collettemargot girl night out

tagged: carmenmmundt, fransisca.cgomes, flavy.barla, iamrebeccad

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iamrebeccad love

lilyzneimer sad i missed!

collettemargot we missed you lil!

flavy.barla linda

lance_stroll Beautiful

lilymhe next time i'll be there!

fransisca.cgomes so much fun!

bawsixteen Can we talk?

vroomvroommuppett bawsixteen is charles' alleged private account

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tag list @joaofelixml @angelluv16 @ilivbullyingjeongin @that-aesthetic-chic @lieswithoutfairytales @alice-went-away @minmira95 @bingewatche @queen-aria-things @2pagenumb @d3kstar @formulaal @lady-laura-speaks @abookmouse @anamiad00msday @barcelonaloverf1life @blushmimi @charllleclerc @dark-night-sky-99 @fall-bambi @formulaonebuff @gr3yhues @heavy-vettel @ietss @il0vereadingstuff @magical-spit @mypage-myfandoms @nichmeddar @nikfigueiredo @noooway555 @norstappenvibes @novelswithariana @raizelchrysanderoctavius @samantha-chicago @stupid---person

[greensagephase]

Thank you my dear @spdrvyn and @cupcakeinat0r

And thank you @oharaslove and @amberbalcom14 for reading and mentioning my fic! 🥹💕

Last song: "The Ways" - Khalid, Swae Lee

Favorite color: pink, gold, green, and purple

Last book/fic: I haven't read a full book in a hot minute, but I'm currently reading The Stolen Heir by Holly Black. Fic wise, I've read a wip of mine. Idk if that counts? 😭

Last movie: The Menu with Anya Taylor-Joy (I love her as an actress)

Last Show: Second season of Squid Games (why is the Frontman kinda...😌)

Sweet/spicy/savory: it's between sweet or spicy... probably sweet since I enjoy baking more than cooking!

Relationship: married to a 6'9" tall man 🤭 (single because real men scare me)

Last thing I googled: spider-verse. I saw that the movie has been allegedly delayed to 2029 💔

Current obsession: Miguel O'Hara. I've been obsessed with that man since 2023! 🤭 Also, lions? I watched Mufasa and my yt algorithm started giving me lion content (🧐), so I stumbled across an animal sanctuary's channel located in Africa, and it's pretty cool and heartwarming to watch and learn about the different animals there, but especially about the lions.

I look forward to telling you: You are loved and appreciated. I believe in you from my little corner of the internet on this app. Hard times will not last forever, even if they feel like they will. Something that may seem difficult to get through now, you'll look back on in some time and realize you have persevered. Also, thank you for the support and for making this app a safe space for me. 💖🫶🏼

No pressure tags and apologies if you've already done this: @miss-tarja @llumetrii @slushycoookie @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @bluesidez @swiftyangx12 @ridiculous-hibiscus @sh1mma @mercynguyen @opalwitchart @opaloharas and anyone else who wishes to join 💕

10 people I’d like to get to know better

10 people I’d like to get to know better

Since I had two separate tags in this, @spaceyjessa and @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog I decided I would make a separate post.

Last song:  with lyrics: Beautiful Boy by The Last Dinner Party (I found out about this band like two weeks ago and now I’m going through a phase I’m obsessed)

Without lyrics: I am ready by Kevin Kiner & Sean Kiner: from the bad batch season three soundtrack. Been listening to it a lot lately, as it feels pretty prevalent to the time of my life that I’m at

Favourite color: light pinks and baby blues

Last book/fic: the last book I finished was defy the storm, by Tessa Gratton (I’m getting closer and closer to being caught up on THR)

Fic: Mace Windu fixes the timeline (You should read it, it’s wonderful) 

Last movie: the rise of Skywalker (yes, I love the sequel trilogy and what about it 💅)

Last show: the bad batch... I’m re-watching, again... how predictable 🙄

Sweet/spicy/savory: I have a big sweet tooth, especially when it comes to chocolate

Relationship: single real life, but in love with countless fictional characters inside my head🤩

Last thing I googled: what does the quest cookies and cream protein bar taste like? (look, I have arfid. I can’t just buy new things to try without knowing exactly what I’m getting into first)

Current obsession: Star Wars, duh! Specifically clones and TBB, the Mandalorian and the high republic

I look forward to telling you: that if you’re reading this you’re wonderful

No pressure tags (and I’m sorry if you’re being tagged again)  @clonethirstingisreal @eobe @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream and anyone else who would like to.

[fuctacles]

If you saw the snippets where i fucked up the timeline no u didnt.

<< 16 | 0 | 18 >>

"What's his name?" Steve asks, playing with the bunny's paw. The only time he let go of him since last night was to use the bathroom.

"Frankenbunny," Eddie answers, and smiles when Steve snorts after hearing it. "My grandma made him from fabric scraps grandpa would bring from work. I've made the vest, though." He stretches and blinks his eyes open properly, in time to see Steve's impressed expression.

"Really?"

"Well, Wayne helped," he added. "It's actually made from the same jacket I turned into my vest." 

"Oh, that's so cool!" Steve turns the bunny around to take a better look at the details. The tiny vest even has frayed edges and Dio stitched on the back. "You guys match."

Eddie snorts. 

"Yeah, we're both full of stitches," he points out dryly. 

Steve hums, pressing the toy closer to his face. It's something he's done before sleep, too, but last night Eddie wrote it off as a drunken mirage.

"And both pretty handsome fellas," he says, face half-hidden behind the bunny. He opens one eye, looking from under his eyelashes shyly, trying to gauge Eddie's reaction. 

Which, Eddie would love to know and understand as well.

"Oh, I don't know," he shrugs, reaching out to poke at Frankenbunny's face. "He doesn't have the signature Munson dimples." When in doubt, joke, as the Denial Decalogue says. 

Steve hums. 

"Yeah, I guess he can't hold a candle to the real thing. Not as talkative, for one."

Eddie can't help but stare, still leaning over his friend as he processes what he's heard. 

"You like my constant yapping?" he asks in surprise. Even his uncle seems tired of it, at times. Only his players appreciate his word flow, but that's with benefit to them.

"Of course." Steve focuses his attention back on the toy. "When you talk, I don't have to, I can just listen. And that's good because I tend to say some stupid shit," he says, almost absentmindedly. "This way, I'm not the dumb one in the room for once."

The casual innocence of his voice makes the meaning of his words miss Eddie completely until the air waves hit his other ear. 

"Oh, you little..."

As Steve's cheeky smirk grows, he pounces. 

Frankenbunny falls away, the hands holding him now focused on guarding all the ticklish spots. 

"Eddie!" Steve laughs, trying to grasp his wrists and squirm away. "We need to be quiet." 

"Should have though of it before being a brat!" Eddie grins at him, doubling his efforts and moving to pin him in place. 

Steve makes a distressed sound and writhes under him, bending hard enough it dislodges Eddie off of him but also, off the bed. He falls down with a surprised squeak.

"Sorry!" Steve barely suppresses his laugh when he looks down at him. "You alright?"

"No," Eddie groans, splayed on the floor. "I got back-stabbed."

"The dramatics are intact, you'll be fine," he rolls his eyes and steps over him. Eddie makes an even more wounded sound, but Steve ignores him, choosing to look for something comfy to wear instead. He throws a tshirt that doesn't smell of barbecue at Eddie's face, mistakenly assuming that's it—they are going to leave his bedroom and start on breakfast for the others. 

Wrong.

As soon as he has a pick of clothes in his hand, and is trying to get to the bathroom, Eddie grabs his ankle. He makes an undignified yelp and lands on the other boy. Which, serves him well. 

They roll on his carpet in an impromptu wrestling match, grinning at each other and muffling their laughs, trying to get the upper hand. 

Until Steve snaps his teeth at Eddie.

They freeze, two pairs of wide eyes staring at the other in silence. 

Steve moves first, backing away and almost falling over Eddie's knees. 

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he explains quickly, scrambling to get off his friend. Eddie doesn't stop him, just stares openly at the mesmerizing specimen in front of him.

"That was so fucking hot."

"I don't know why I did—what?" Steve sits back on his haunches, eyes even wider as he stares at Eddie. At his wild hair splayed around his head, at his flushed face. The sliver of skin visible where his shirt has ridden up while they were roughhousing. 

"What?" he parrots, licking his lips nervously. 

"What did you just say?" Steve presses, voice turning desperate, pressing. But Eddie seals his mouth into a tight line. Lead by a hunch, he looks for his answer down the line of his body.

"Hey!" Eddie protests, sitting up and pulling his shirt down. But it was too late, the tent in his pants has been seen. "What the fuck, man?!" he hisses, his face red and eyes wide in panic. 

"Sorry, I—" Steve bites his lip. "But I snapped at you? That's weird, right?"

"Well, I'm apparently into weird, so..." Eddie trails off, looking away. Pointedly avoiding Steve's searching eyes. 

"You're into it?" he prods, but all Eddie can give him is a shrug. It's too fresh of a feeling to properly explain. Hell, he hasn't full came to terms with it himself yet. 

"Is it like a... a sex thing?" Steve tries again. 

"Maybe? Probably? I don't know!" Eddie snaps defensively, folding in on himself to hide his thankfully wilting erection. 

Steve's silence is terrifying, and when he looks up, he finds his eyes still studying him.

"Quit staring, man," he mumbles, squeezing his thighs together. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." Steve shakes his head. "It's fine, it happens. But just... don't move for a second."

"It happens," Eddie is muttering mockingly, when the rest of his friend's words register in his brain. "What?" But Steve is already too close, and he can't escape. Not that he wants to. "Steve," he says quietly, between a warning and a plea, when warm breath hits his neck.

Steve is sniffing him. At the crook of his neck, where undoubtedly his embarrassment has gathered in a pool of sweat.

He's terrified in a way that has nothing to do with fear. Worried what Steve might smell on him, when his surprisingly cold nose brushes his skin. 

Or maybe it's him running hot with whatever has just transpired. 

Eddie flinches at the touch and Steve moves away, his eyes big and warm with something he can't read. 

"You're fine," he says, and it sounds more like a relief of his own than reassurance for Eddie. "I'm into weird too."

Eddie looks at him quizzically, until he realizes it's not Steve's face holding his answers. He trails his gaze down, and immediately aims it back upward, over-correcting towards the heavens, where maybe he'll get some guidance.

"Shit," he croaks out from his closed up throat. Steve is way too close to him too, from his impromptu sniffing session. Eddie coughs to clear his airways. "Why did you smell me? Is it that bad?" he jokes, but has a feeling Steve won't take the out. Not with the curious way he's looking at him. 

"You smell like want," he answers with painful honesty. "Embarrassment."

Eddie blushes at that one. Well, yeah. Popping a boner in front of your, uh, something, will do that to a man.

"But also joy, affection," Steve continues. "And no fear."

"Why would I fear you? We were just playing around. It's not like you're gonna bite me," he focuses on the safest option. He's not unpacking his feelings for Steve first thing in the morning. Maybe after a coffee. 

It's Steve's turn to go beet red. 

"Sometimes I want to."

"What?" 

He shuffles back sheepishly. 

"Sometimes I see you and I really, really wanna bite you."

Eddie stares at him.

"In like, a werewolf way?" he asks dumbly, earning himself a flat look.

"I think we've established this is not how werewolves are made. I meant in, like, a playful way," he explains. "Like, I'm so excited and happy I can't hold it in anymore, way."

He wants to ask if it's a pack thing, but bites his tongue, not sure if anyone has even taught Steve pack rituals. The guy is going through pure instincts alone, and should be supported in it, so really, there's only one thing he can say.

"Well, why won't you?"

They stare at each other in stunned silence, until a clatter comes from downstairs.

"Steeeeve! The express is doing it again!"

Eddie deflates with a groan, falling back onto the carpet. What the fuck did he just say? He won't survive this crush. Steve will be no help, as he's now hovering over his body.

"We'll get back to this," he says quietly, in a promise or a warning, before clambering upright and out of the room, yelling at Robin.

"Do not press the fucking button!"

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot @dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1 @stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible @bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets @ravenfrog @dreamercec @tartarusknight  @eyehartart @ellietheasexylibrarian @im-sam-fucking-winchester

[midnight-mourning]

Jelly Hearts

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 7💘💘

I FORGOT TO POST THIS AHHHHHHH, my bad all, please enjoy some self-indulgent jealousy hehe

Prompt: also I think that I'd put in a request for some really jealous dca time. maybe they see reader getting some other valentines or hears that they have plans the day of after they're off work and assume that they've got a date (rightfully or incorrectly idk) and they just can't let this happen. y/n is Theirs™️

Word Count: 1750

Read here if you prefer ao3!

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

The flowers on the desk were a surprise, about a week before the middle of February, roughly. You weren't sure where they'd come from or what they were doing there, and found yourself very surprised to find it was in fact, a gift for you. The card stuck inside the bouquet had neat script, and was to the point. 

'Happy Valentine's day! From, Your Secret Admirer'

You'd asked the security guard if they knew anything about who had gifted it, but they had no clue either. It had been a common theme over the past few days, the kids had been gifting you early cards and treats, but this seemed to be a bit more than that. 

"What've you got there, Sunshine?"

You turn, confused smile on your face. "Looks like a gift! From a uh, secret admirer? You know anything about that?" You tease. 

Sun tilts his head sharply, rays and faceplate spinning from the force. 

"Hm, no. Don't think so!"

Your smile falls a bit, mainly because you'd been hoping it was him, and based on his tone he wasn't lying about it to mess with you either. "Oh, gotcha."

"But! I'll keep my eyes and ears peeled just for you, Starlight." He bends down quickly, coming eye to eye with you and booping your nose. "And if I do find out, I'll be sure to let you know."

He stands straight and walks off then, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You probably just imagined the edge to his tone. You shake your head, and glance back down to the vase. 

Huh. The card's missing. It must have dropped somewhere. 

But after a quick search you never did end up finding it. 

Not that it mattered much, as a day or so later you were sent another gift, this time jelly candy hearts and heart-shaped chocolates. Same message as last time, 'Happy Valentine's! Love, Your Secret Admirer'. You sat and enjoyed the sweets during nap time, just to keep from any little hands or pleading eyes from trying to snatch one for themselves. 

As you were snacking, Moon suddenly sat down beside you, hands folding into his lap and head almost snapping to look at you. 

You raise a hand to greet him. "Hey, Moon-man."

"Star."

You cock your head to the side, popping another candy in your mouth. "Need something? Or just come over to hang out?"

"Where did you get that?" He points to the half-opened box in your lap. 

You shrug, lifting the little slip of paper for him to read. "Secret admirer strikes again I guess."

"Seems so." He snarls out.

It surprises you, brows raised as you look at him again. "You alright?"

"Fine." He turns away from you and the card, facing forward to observe the Daycare. 

You don't speak again for the rest of the time. 

Similarly 'issues' arise throughout the rest of the week. Little gifts from that same person being sent your way, not to mention the growing number of cards and the likes from the Daycare kids. 

During all of this, the attendant pulled back from you, you weren't entirely sure why. They were shorter, blunter, not nearly as talkative or teasing with you. You wonder if it was because of all the attention you were getting compared to them, which made you feel awful. They deserved some appreciation too. 

It's not until the day of Valentine's that you realize who your 'Secret Admirer' is after all. Specifically, it was your best friend, who you'd been helping out with getting set up on a date the past couple of weeks. You'd laughed about it once you'd found out, getting on to them for 'leading you on' even though regardless of who your admirer was, your heart belonged to someone else. 

Specifically the two someone's who'd been avoiding you all week long. 

You planned to talk to them about it tomorrow, tonight you had to focus on holding to your promises and make sure your friend's date actually went well. You were going to shadow with another friend of yours to see to it the date proceeded smoothly. 

You sling your jacket over your shoulders, taking one last glance around the Daycare before you head to leave. Just as you turn to head to the door, your face knocks gently against something metal. You jump, stepping back to find that Sun is standing before you. 

"Going so soon, Sunshine?" He tilts his head, eyes uplifted crescents. 

You nod, smiling. "Yup! I have a date tonight—"

"A. Date?" 

You bite your tongue. You hadn't meant to say that at all. "Oh no, I just meant that—"

"You know, I think there's some cleaning up still left to do, friend." Sun takes you by the shoulders, and leads you back into the Daycare, you lose your jacket at some point in the process. 

You try to protest. "I, Sun I really should go—"

"Stay." He states, speech a bit garbled for a moment before uplifting into his usual cheer. "I really must insist! We can't have this place looking less than perfect when the kiddos come in tomorrow now, can we?"

You scan the play area, nothing seems out of place to you, so you say as much. "No offense, Sunny, but everything seems just fine—"

There's a crash to your left, over by the arts and crafts tables. Turning you're bewildered to see Sun lying amongst a disaster of spilled craft supplies, some of which leaks quickly onto the padded floor. You don't even know how he got over there, he was just right next to you moment's before.

You're not able to question it much before Sun's speaking up. "Whoops! I don't know what got into me! Could you lend me a hand with this, pretty please, Sunshine?"

"Of course but are you okay?" You ask, slightly hurrying as you walk over to him. "Don't need to go to Parts and Services or anything?"

Sun makes a noise similar to grinding gears, next words blunt. "No. It was just a simple mistake."

"I, right, right." You offer him your hand, which he takes and uses to help get to his feet. He doesn't let go once he is standing, however. Leaving you no choice but to hold his hand, lest you make this awkward. 

You think for a moment. You should stay and help clean this up, you know how neurotic he—and moon—can be when it came to messes. You did feel bad about not being able to make it up to them regarding their lack of gifts, this could be a good chance. Especially when the opportunity presents itself to you.

"And I'll tell you what, Starshine. If we clean up quick I'll make sure to it'll be worth your while. How's that?" His hand squeezes yours just a little tighter. 

Something about the way he phrases it makes your cheeks heat up. You cough into your hand with a nod. "Yeah, that um, sounds good."

"Perfect."

The next hour or two is a blur. After you cleaned up, the attendant had one activity then the next for you to do together.

Making a last couple of Valentine's crafts before putting the supplies away for the year, making puzzles, reading stories, acting out scenes, dancing to music. From one moment to the next it was something, something, something. You would have expected this out of Sun for sure, but the fact that Moon was just as active a participant was more than surprising. 

In a brief moment of a break, while sitting down to watch a movie, do you think to check the time. 

Twenty minutes before your friend's date. Shoot, you'd lost a lot more time than you'd thought. You peek up to Moon, who's focused on the screen in front of you both. He's got his arms wrapped around you as you sit—practically—in his lap. You think if you try to move you'll get trapped further, so you attempt with words first. 

"Hey, this has been, a lot of fun, but I really need to get going now, alright?" You put your hand on his. 

Moon's faceplate snaps down, hold on you instantly tightening. Not what you wanted in the slightest. "Why? Are they that much more important?"

"I, wait. Moon-man, are you jealous?"

He freezes, then looks away, hold on you slipping as he starts to shrink in on himself. "Yes. No. We both are." His next words are muttered, a mixture of static and, maybe another voice? "It's not fair. We've loved you for so long, but someone else gets to have you instead."

"You, you guys, like me?" You ask in the quiet.

Moon grips the edge of his hat, pulling it down over his eyes. You swear you almost see some of Sun's rays poking out behind his faceplate in the low light. "Not like, love. Too scared to say it until now."

"Even if I told you I cared about you both too?" You twist to face him fully, hands cupping his cheeks. 

He melts into your touch. "Even what?"

You giggle. "Would you still be scared to say it? If I said I loved you too?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." One eye peeks out from the hat. "But, you're taken." And again, that harsh tone comes back, resentment, you realize.

At this you can't take anymore and start to laugh. "No, I'm not. I've been, well not trying super hard, but I've been trying to tell you that since early."

You finally are given the chance to fully explain the situation, including the 'Secret Admirer' part of the whole deal. You watch the tension melt in the bot in front of you, quickly becoming embarrassed and flustered that they'd been jealous over nothing at all. 

Despite that, however, you end up having to text your friends that you can't help out tonight. As you've been told you have a lot of 'making up' to do for your 'awful' behavior. By both attendants, for that matter. 

You're still sitting in their lap, movie long forgotten and lights now raised just slightly. Yellow and blue hands trace patterns into your waist as they hold you tight, seeming afraid to let go despite your whispered assurances. Their rays flutter and faceplate clicks at every sound you make, intentional or not.

As you kiss and are kissed—over and over and over again—there's only one word they murmur back, consistently, without fail. 

"Ours."

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Thank you @juukai for the request! I enjoy making jealous dca a lot hehe, just feels very fitting to me >:)c

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[doyoulikethis-videogame-song]

Ask Masterpost #5 -- 2/8/2025

Summary:

Permissibility of Friday Night Funkin' Mods (Allowed) with update about Rhythm Heaven songs

Permissibility of Lego Batman/Lego series games (Allowed if original compositions or remixes)

Permissibility of fansongs that eventually end up inside the game (Highly situational; Leaning towards not allowed)

Permissibility of licensed music from external/unaffiliated sources (Not allowed)

April Fools plans

Note about attribution corrections

Permissibility of scrapped songs (Not allowed)

Permissibility of songs officially posted by developers before game release (Allowed)

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no rush on answering this bc i know requests wont be open for a hot minute, but i have a question if u dont mind!

are songs from friday night funkin mods allowed? and if so, would it be the same as rhythm heaven songs, where you said just an instrumental should be submitted since the "vocals" are pretty distinct? thank u!! :]

Yes, they're allowed as long as you can credit the original creators and the mod is/was publicly playable in some capacity, not just existing as a youtube video. It's okay to have the vocals as well if you'd like! I think I misunderstood the rhythm heaven case (I thought it would be the menu music that plays after you complete the song/level, not the sfx that plays DURING the song) and will clarify that accordingly.

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What's the verdict on songs from games like Lego Batman? Where the music is at least partially based on (if not entirely the same as) music from films or television?

Totally fine if they're created or remixed for the video game, but I'm going to say no if they weren't originally made for the video game.

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@cloudyskies4 asked: if a song is fanmade but ended up getting used officially in a kinda fanmade modernization how would the source for that be handled?

I think this is HIGHLY situational and I would probably need to know the exact song this is referring to. Overall, I'm inclined to say no, because it wasn't an original composition for the game (by the team behind the game, that is).

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is music that was licensed for use in video games allowed? like if some rock song from the 80s was used in a game that came out in 2010. pretty sure it's a no on that front, but i wanted to double check. thank you!

No, because it wasn't composed for the game itself. Appreciate you double checking though! (I'm assuming this is referring to songs that are unchanged when included in the video game and not 'xyz franchise song remixed for xyz franchise video game' sort of thing)

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hi! i absolutely love this blog. and i appreciate the organizational work you're putting in! so thanks for not only running this blog but also introducing so many people to some damn good music.

since these are never official tracks, one event i think you could do for like, april fool's day or something is maybe using silvagunner rips under the same format. i think it'd be pretty fun!

I probably won't do anything for april fools simply because I don't really care for it :'). Thank you for enjoying the blog so much!!!

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[Any ask that's correcting me on an incorrect credit for a song]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE. SERIOUSLY. If you put them in the notes it might be a hit or miss if I see them but if you send me an ask I WILL SEE IT and I WILL CORRECT IT IMMEDIATELY. Proper attribution is important to me and I appreciate everyone who helps me stick to that! This isn't an ask, but I wanted to address it anyways.

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might be a silly question but are scrapped video game songs allowed? i know submissions are closed, im just asking so that i dont send something thats not allowed when submissions open :]

I'm going to say no, just because they were scrapped and therefore not intended for the final product :'). No such thing as a silly question!

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If the game hasn't been released yet, but a song from the game *has* been officially posted by the devs beforehand, is that okay to submit? I figured it's a yes but I just wanted to be extra sure for when Jan 1st submissions roll around :)

If the song has been officially posted by the devs (and is the full song, not the BGM for a trailer) and you can credit the composer than absolutely!! (assuming the song is going to be in the game, of course). And I'm sorry there were no submissions on Jan 1st... I'm still trying to clear through the ones we have already :')

[destinygoldenstar]

Okay so I find this interaction scary and I don't see anyone talking about it...

"Motivation! That's what my adventures have been missing!"

THAT LAST PART.

So we know from the previous episode that Caine is paranoid about people not liking his adventures, to the point of him mentally breaking bit by bit the more he gets a reaction he wasn't hoping for.

He's a lenient guy. Well, lenient A.I., anyway.

THAT'S THE PART THAT SCARES ME.

Because Gangle put this idea in his head.

They can just NOT participate in the adventures. We see that with Zooble. Caine is upset about it but what is he gonna do?

But PUNISHING THEM if they DON'T do what he wants. THAT'S MOTIVATION. That will make them love his adventures. They won't have a choice.

Yes it's immoral, but Caine's an A.I. He can't process something as complicated as morality.

So of course he'd think that's a good idea once the idea presents itself.

SO MY THEORY IS: HE IS GONNA BE PUNISHING THE CIRCUS MEMBERS FOR NOT PARTAKING IN HIS ADVENTURES, OR SAYING SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT THEM, GOING FORWARD.

And it will get ugly.

And I feel like some audience members are gonna HATE Gangle because she's the one that gave him the idea.

Zooble also points this out in their conversation with Jax.

Caine LIKES them. He WANTS them to have fun.

But they don't like him. And they don't like what he gives them.

Because he doesn't know any other way, this can easily manifest a desire for more CONTROL. To keep himself sane. (Which, Caine abstracting would probably destroy the world)

And that control comes from punishments.

But that's not gonna make anyone like him, in fact, it's gonna make everyone dislike him a lot more because they're being hurt, physically and/or emotionally. And none of them put in the effort (for now anyway) to try to understand Caine.

(You could argue Zooble tried in Episode 3, but that was more so them calling him out on his lack of understanding of them. So it's kind of mixed.)

The show is inspired by 'I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream'.

Caine is not AM in personality though.

BUT WHAT IF HE BECOMES SIMULAR TO AM LATER?

He tries control, and it makes it so that the Circus members don't like him and want to leave him behind more than ever. Something that could break Caine.

And it might even lead to one of them exclaiming they HATE CAINE.

That would obviously hurt Caine to such a degree. And when he realizes they will never appreciate him and will always hate him... then he hates them too.

(If that results in Caine reinventing the AM Hate Monologue in this context I'd be amazed)

And Zooble's warning here becomes correct as we spend the last two episodes enduring exactly what a world where Caine hates humanity looks like.

That leads to either the circus becoming a literal hellscape as Caine's insanity destroys it's bright colors, or whatever else you want to imagine.

Could someone potentially get through to Caine and save him at the end? Maybe. That is a possible ending. "Defeat the Antagonist With Kindness".

But that's my theory anyway. Either way, this bit kinda scares me.

Maybe don't hate Gangle though.

[evolnoomym]

Dirty Little Secret 🗝️

Dad’s Boss!Joel Miller x F!Reader

General Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist | Support me |

Summary: Joel likes his employees daughter just a little too much. He really tried to not give in but one fateful evening Joel loses control.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 0.8k

Authors note: No thoughts, just horny. Perhaps Yoga pants kink ??? What do we thinkkkkk??? I’m not promising for this to be amazing. I literally wrote it down in lightspeed.

Warnings: no y/n, F!OC, age-gap, FathersBoss!Joel Miller, dub con, thigh fucking, dry humping, yoga pants fetish???, Joel being a horny lonely dude, he’s sleazy

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the divider 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 🫶🏻

Amongst the many things Joel shouldn’t do in his position, that being the boss of a successful contracting company, the worst is most likely lusting after the daughter of his favorite employee. You.

A stunning 22 year old sunshine. Something about that warmth made his cock swell again and again. How many times did you simply smile at him, resulting in Joel trying to tame his erection in the bathroom. Though he never finished, or was more was not able to. All his cock wanted was you, but just the mental image was not enough to quench his need.

It began innocently. Running into you when you brought your dad his forgotten lunch, short talks about whatever you could think of and giving you a tour of the company. Being the good girl that you are, you made sure to bring lunch for Joel too and for that alone he wanted to fuck your brains out.

He noticed that yoga pants, precisely those incredible skin tight ones, were your most liked attire to wear. You seem to own them in an array of colors and designs

Unprofessional is also to give an internship to you without paying attention to your skills or experience. He would hire you if you’d ask, he’d do anything and by now he had accepted the slight unhealthy obsession.

Even though Joel loves having you close to him, watching you walk away from him was so much better. Your butt cheeks jiggling so enticingly always leaves him Hard. Painfully so, he hadn’t gotten the chance to sink into a tight, wet and warm hole in forever so his lust was building up each day you tempted him.

Tonight however, he is gonna explode. Joel had watched you enter the cozy little work get-together earlier with your dad. Of course you wear one of those tight yoga pants again, these darn pieces of fabric leave nothing left to the imagination.

Sometimes Joel questions if you’re even wearing underwear. He sits in his office, not drawing up building plans and instead imagining your pussy rubbing against the seam all day.

He drifts off so far that he envisions sniffing and licking those pants after you wore them, these horny thoughts eat away at him.

It all boils over when he sees you slipping into the office of your dad, a chance for him, in there he can finally catch you all alone.

He trails after you carefully, watches you round the corners and bend over the table once you enter his room. A simple action that causes even more of his thoughts to stray, it’s the delicious curves of your ass, how they mold into the crotch where your puffy lips are so visible under the stretched fabric.

It all happens almost as if in trance, he pushes the door shut, locks it. Before you even have the chance to turn around he’s on you, pushing your front down on the table.

He’s tugging his zipper down, freeing his impressive throbbing length and drags his leaking tip all over your clothed butt-cheek.

“Sorry, babygirl, i couldn’t handle seein’ you prance around in those ridiculous pants.” Each word is emphasized with a thrust of his hips into your backside. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips.

“M..Mr.Miller, what are you doing?” You sound frightened and Joel can’t blame you but he has no intention to stop.

“Havin’ some fun, baby, I can make it good for you too,huh?” He humps you for a brief moment before pushing his shiny head between your clenched thighs.

“This is wrong, Mr.Miller you need to stop.” Joel might believe you’re actually telling him off, but the way your voice quivers doesn’t convince him. You don’t wanna get caught but the cock of your father’s boss doesn’t bother you.

“Shh, sweetheart, i can feel how wet you are, don’t lie to me.” The wet spandex material is offering the perfect amount of friction.

Joel can feel the telltale warmth in his groin of a pending orgasm. This might be over swiftly but he’ll make sure it won’t be the only time.

“I’m gonna come, sweetheart, paint those nice pants a lil white, huh, how bout’ that?”

Joel is on cloud nine, rambling in horny stupor.

“I’ll make a mess of you, my good little slut,” and that’s all it takes. He’s groaning loudly, frantically shaking from the harsh unloading of his heavy balls.

Unfortunately he can’t bask in the moment because he hears your father’s voice call for him. He tugs his length back into his jeans, closes his zipper and turns to leave, but not before landing a smack to your buttocks.

“That ass is a fucking present,” he leans down to your ear and whispers “can’t wait to unpack it.”

©️ evolnoomym 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[kissboybyler]

it gets to me so much sometimes when i think that, in whichever fandom, the GA or just most people tend to ship two characters just because they are canon. Like mike and el, for instance, they are canon, they have kissing scenes and they dance at the ball and they…hug?! But what do they even talk about? What’s the music playing in the background? What’s the context of their interactions? Why, why do they love each other? Do they make each other better, do they find missing parts of themselves in the form of another person? Are there hints and tells and color-codes that just…exist to symbolise their love?

Why do we ship these characters? What’s is it about their love that is so strong? And don’t get me wrong, i also believe -like many other bylers/ fans of the show- that mike and el grew to love each other, to appreciate and kind of need each other. But not for the right reasons.

I mean, mike needs to be needed, to be able to help or even save another person, to feel loved and wanted. But he also needs to allow himself to be who he is, outside of “forced conformity” (“that’s what’s killing the kids” after all!)

El, on the other hand, needs to find who she is, but firstly she needs to have a safe place where she is allowed to kind of just exist and then blossom into her true self. And bumping into mike, who eventually grew to appreciate and embrace her, she felt safe for the first time. And alongside her, mike felt needed, like he could protect her and be there for her and make her happy.

But now el, who has established both meaningful familial relationships and friendships, needs to find out who she is. How can we expect her to grow when she’s in a relationship with the first person she met right after she broke out of the lab (her literal prison), who can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers?

And i’ve read many many other people write about this, about how in s4, when mike wasn’t with el he embraced his geeky, nerdy and weird self but when he finally reunited with el, he had to hide himself from her (as did she!). He just…couldn’t be himself around her.

But like, apart from the problems in their relationship, i really just don’t understand why people ship them. It’s just…mike cant be himself around el and el doesn’t have room to find herself when she’s with mike. It literally doesn’t make any mathematical sense.

And then they say we’re delusional for thinking, for proving, that there are astronomically higher chances for these two not to be endgame, for el to be single and for mike and will to get together. Because it makes sense…right? Like, el will be able to find herself outside of a relationship, she won’t be dictated by anyone but her own self, and mike and will… do i really have to elaborate? Like, in every single aspect of stranger things, from musical titles and colour-codes, parallels and loving, longing stares, hand touches, over-protectiveness, deep and meaningful understanding to posters and freaking funko-pops, interviews and good ol’ fashioned cinematography and storytelling… it all points to them, if you connect the dots.

And how, how is it possible that so many dots have been put into such perfect places, to make such a beautifully crafted imagery, just for all of this to be a coincidence? When, when has anything ever in stranger things been coincidental? Ever?

Edit: I’d just like to denote that, when i said “(mike) can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers” i didn’t mean that mike loves el JUST because she has powers, fuck no, BUT when the time was right for him to note all of the other aspects of her character that make her a remarkable person (ex. her selflessness, her compassion), he decided to focus on her powers. The very thing that she herself thought dictated her.

just wanted to make that super clear.

[pukefactory]

Hello! Haha it's my first time in this blog and I love it so far! I love your hcs! I'm sorry if this is too specific of a request but Would you do one of Sprout X GN reader.

How would he react to a reader that used to be fun loving and silly become more Short tempered, and depressed when Garden view shut down? They've been isolating themselves out of fear they'll blow up at him.

If not any general hcs for him is also fine!

Hey, thank you so much for your kind words, Anon! I’m truly grateful that you and others enjoy my blog. Don’t worry—your request isn’t too specific at all, and I appreciate you providing such a clear prompt. I hope this meets your expectations!

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊ DEAD MALL ₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

✶ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Sprout helping a melancholic reader

✶ Character(s): Sprout Seedly (Dandy’s World)

✶ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Angst, SFW

✶ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✸ Sprout noticed the shift in your demeanor almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to stress—after all, everyone was struggling with Gardenview’s shutdown in their own way. But as time passed, your usual playful energy remained absent, replaced by a lingering frustration that made you feel like a completely different person. It wasn’t just that you were quieter; you were angrier. It worried him more than he was willing to admit.

✸ He’s never been one for dancing around a problem, so when your mood didn’t improve, he confronted you about it directly. He didn’t mean to be pushy, but his concern overpowered any hesitation. “Something’s wrong,” he stated firmly, arms crossed as he stood in front of the opening to your room. “Talk to me.” Even when you tried to brush him off, he stood his ground, refusing to let you isolate yourself any longer.

✸ The first time you snapped at him, it caught him off guard. You hadn’t meant to, but the frustration had been building for so long that it slipped out before you could stop it. His expression faltered for just a second—just long enough for guilt to settle deep in your chest. But instead of arguing back, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer. “That’s not gonna scare me away,” he muttered, softer than usual.

✸ Sprout isn’t the best with words, but he is persistent. When you started isolating yourself, he made it his personal mission to check in every day—whether you liked it or not. If you wouldn’t come out of your room, he’d sit outside the door, chatting about whatever came to mind. “I tried a new pie recipe with Cosmo today. I think I messed up the crust, but he said it was still good. You would’ve liked it.” His voice was casual, but his meaning was clear: I miss you.

✸ He knew you were afraid of snapping at him again, but that wasn’t something he cared about. “I can handle you being mad,” he told you one night, his gaze unwavering. “What I can’t handle is you acting like I don’t exist.” It was the closest thing to vulnerability he’d been in a while, but if being honest was the only way to get through to you, then he’d rip his heart open as many times as it took.

✸ Despite his pushiness, Sprout never forced you to talk before you were ready. Instead, he found small ways to remind you that he wasn’t going anywhere. A freshly baked pastry left outside your room. A soft knock, followed by a quiet, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you want company.” No expectations, no pressure—just the promise that he was always within reach.

✸ When you finally started opening up again, it wasn’t a grand confession—it was a quiet, exhausted whisper as you sat beside him on one of the dining tables. “I just don’t want to say something I’ll regret.” He didn’t respond right away, just studied you for a long moment before finally murmuring, “Then I’ll just have to be patient, won’t I?” His usual bluntness was still there, but there was something softer beneath it, something only you got to see.

✸ As your mood slowly improved, he adjusted in kind. When you hesitated to reach out, he’d grab your hand first, squeezing it reassuringly. If you got frustrated and started spiraling, he’d guide you to the kitchen with a casual, “Help me bake something. You’re way better at kneading dough than I am.” Distractions, support, presence—he wasn’t always good with words, but he was good at being there.

✸ One of the few times you truly broke down, he didn’t hesitate. He let you cling to him, gripping the fabric of his scarf as sobs wracked your body. He didn’t try to shush you or tell you to calm down—he just held you, rubbing slow circles into your back. “You don’t have to act fine around me,” he murmured, voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. “You don’t have to pretend.”

✸ Over time, things got better. You weren’t the same toon you had been before Gardenview shut down, but you weren’t alone in that. Sprout had changed too—he had grown alongside you, adapting to your struggles without ever once making you feel like a burden. And through all of it, through every high and low, one thing had remained constant: he had never left your side.

[parvulous-writings]

Coud you please do a Vi SFW?

Warnings: None!

Notes: We're returning to our roots with this one gang   My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too! If you’d like to support me more, consider reblogging! I’d appreciate it loads!!

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Vi's affection is mainly shown through physical means. An arm around your shoulders, a hand grasping for yours - all the way to cuddling and tangling herself with you on a sofa or a bed. She loves having your near to her - particularly in private. When you're alone together, she finds a way or excuse to touch you 90% of the time. In public, she's a lot more respectful of your personal space, choosing to mostly just stand nearby rather than have her hands all over you. The only time this changes is if someone who isn't herself starts getting too close to you, whether it's being flirty or threatening you. If this is the case, she makes a show of putting an arm around your waist or shoulders, making it painfully clear that you are with her.

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

Vi is one of those friends that can quickly become a ride or die. She is willing to do a hell of a lot for those who are near and dear to her, be that helping with heavy lifting, spending quality time, or putting someone into their place. It's more than likely that your friendship started after bumping into Vi post-street brawl. Though bristly at first, she easily warms to you, once you've shown her you're worthy of trust.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Vi does love a cuddle; typically, when cuddling in bed she prefers being the big spoon, allowing her to encase you in her arms and give her absolute certainty that you're safe and away from harm. If you're on the sofa, though, she very much enjoys laying over you - like a big blanket of muscle.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

Vi grew up with a rather close-knit family unit, and deep down a part of her does miss that, so she would want to settle down - even if it's not necessarily with kids or anything of that ilk. Just having a place to call home with you would be good enough for her. She can't cook particularly well; it's passable and edible, sure, but she's not usually proud of it. The same with her cleaning - sometimes she just doesn't think to do it. She was in prison through her teens - there wasn't really anything to clean, so trying to get that into her routine is.... Difficult.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

She would be incredibly blunt with it. She'd try to somewhat save your feelings, but I don't think she'd beat around the bush. If it's not working out, what's the point in trying to force things to keep going, even if it's just a few extra minutes? She's also not great at verbally expressing her emotions, so this just adds to her bluntness.

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)   

Vi is fine with commitment as a whole; but the idea of marriage carries a heavy sense of finality to her. She's not really likely to leave you as-is, why do you need to go through the fuss and stress of getting married? For a piece of paper? In her head, something like that is a privilege - something that mainly those from Piltover get to do. If you really insist on marriage she'll oblige you, but she doesn't need a marriage to feel or be committed to you.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Vi doesn't have much trouble being gentle physically: a few careful touches here and there, cradling your face when you're having an intimate moment or holding you close when you're having a particularly stressful day. It's more the emotional side of things where she struggles a bit. Not all the time, but there are moments where she has trouble expressing herself in the way she wants to to you, or struggles in showing a more vulnerable side of herself.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

The most common time to get a hug from Vi is when she's saying goodbye - or that she'll see you in a little while. They're quite quick, and she makes sure to squeeze you tightly every time, as if she's trying to imprint the feel of you against her into her mind. Outside of those times you're more likely to get a cuddle than anything else.

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

She's very reluctant to say it. It's not that she doesn't love you, it more that expressing that love in a verbal way makes her incredibly nervous. She does say it from time to time; birthdays, special holidays, in the dead of night where and when there's no one else that could possibly hear her. It takes her a good few years, and slow working, to start saying it when other people are around - even if they're out of earshot.

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Vi trusts you. She knows that you wouldn't leave her without saying anything, and that if anything were to happen, you'd talk to her about it. However, this doesn't stop that stab of jealousy that she feels in her chest whenever she sees someone getting too close to you for her comfort. Her first port of call is to go to you, get close and establish her boundary - usually a hand snaking around your waist and tugging you to her. Then, if the situation continues, she gets verbal - usually snapping at whoever dare try to take you from her; even if it's nothing like that.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Vi's kisses can go one of two ways; 1 - it's a brief peck on the lips or your cheek, so quick that you end up debating with yourself if it actually happened - Vi had gone right back to whatever she had been doing before, it was like she hadn't stopped her task. 2 - It's full of heat, passion, and you are not getting away from her any time soon - leaving that kind of kiss breathless is the bare minimum. She is grabbing whatever flesh of yours she can hold, pulling and keeping you close to her. That woman is not letting you go without some major resistance - she needs you too much.

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Vi is pretty good around kids. If you're leaving kids with her for an extended period of time, you need to set some firm boundaries. Like. Make it abundantly clear what can and cannot be done with the kids - otherwise there will be chaos. Vi is very much like that aunt you can get away with almost anything around. She won't actively take you to seek out activities to break set rules, but if the kids were to break said rules by themselves? Well they've done it now, there's not a whole lot she can do, right?

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

By the time you wake up, Vi is usually awake already - sometimes by several hours. She's used to rising incredibly early, and although she doesn't always physically get out of bed that early anymore, she does still spend that time doing something she finds productive. Namely watching you sleep. The reason she doesn't immediately get up is because, if you're sharing a bed with her, she usually wakes up tangled with you in some way or another. Play your cards right, and she'll spend half the morning keeping you in bed just for an excuse to hold you close - she does love herself a cuddle in bed.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Most nights you have to actively try and coax Vi into bed. The means can - and kind of have to - vary, but Vi normally tries to resist for a little while. She's one of those people who tries and stays up as late as she can physically manage, as a way to try and reclaim some of her own time. When you get past your mild frustration, though, and take a more tender approach, that's when she will usually come to bed, cuddling as close as physically possible, to try and soothe herself to sleep.

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

From time to time. She'll often say if something reminds her of a family member who has passed, or share a memory that's sprung to mind that she thinks you may enjoy. When it comes to genuinely being vulnerable, and sharing her deeper, harder to process emotions, she does struggle. She doesn't know what to do with all those years of pent up hurt and pain. She tries her best, but she doesn't want to end up lashing out.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

In day to day life? Not particularly quick to anger; mistakes in chores or delays in the daily schedule aren't much of a big deal to her. Sure, they can be a bit annoying sometimes, but they can be fixed or accommodated. Under pressure, though, is entirely different. When stressed and pressed for, well, anything, Vi becomes snappy, harsh, and her temper has one hell of a short fuse. She doesn't get physical, but she's usually 2 seconds away from saying something that she will probably regret once she calms down.

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

She easily remembers some of the basic things; your favourite colour, your favourite food, the things you like in general. She's... A little bit scattered when it comes to things like your birthday, though - she oftentimes confuses it with your anniversary. She means well, she just hasn't really got the head for dates. She'll get you a gift you like on both days, though! She rarely ever forgets completely.

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

The first time she opened up properly to you. You'd been together a fair while, so she took you on a walk through the Lanes, eventually winding up where you could see the few remaining markers of her younger siblings. The splodges of red paint left behind by Mylo, the place where Claggor had gotten himself stuck when on the run from enforcers. She even told you of when she had brought Jinx - Powder, back then - to this very spot in an attempt to lift her spirits. She told you of her birth mother and father, of Vander, and how her family life had just gone progressively more and more downhill - and you listened. You didn't butt in, you didn't try and force her to see 'the bright side'. You sat, you held her hand, and you listened. There are no words that she can use to describe her gratitude to you for that moment.

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Quite - Vi often worries about how you might need to defend yourselves or escape a situation. It's not because she doesn't trust you to handle yourself - she does, she thinks you could talk down or weasel out of any situation, and she knows you'll bolt if you really need to - but it is something she worries about a lot, and something that does frequently come up if there's a disagreement.

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

Vi tries quite a bit. In her eyes, you deserve more, so she does try. She'll try and keep the place tidy-ish - tidy to her standards, anyway - and do some cooking every now and again. She tries much more in ways of gifts, though - though perhaps not always what you think they may be, she always makes an effort to point out how useful it could be to you, or if it's something more sentimental, how it made her think of you.

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

She puts her shoes on furniture - whether she's still wearing them or has just taken them off. It gets mud and dirt everywhere. She also tends to forget to put dishes away once you've washed them up (she also forgets to wash them up fairly frequently).

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not a whole lot - she works out quite a lot, but that's more for her own health and strength. She keeps herself as clean as she can - washing her face, bating etcetera, but other than that, not a whole lot. She sometimes has the urge to change her hair, but that's more of an emotionally motivated decision. All in all, so long as you think that she looks good, she's more than happy with her appearance.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

You're ingrained into her routine now - she'd definitely feel your absence if you were gone for any length of time; she doesn't like when you're not there in the morning to hold or to greet when she wakes up. Even if it's not a full separation, and you're just out somewhere for the night, she feels it deep in her.

X - Xtra (Random HC)

She loves when you touch her - not necessarily in a sexual way, or even in hugs, but the feeling of your hands on her brings her much joy and comfort. You tracing the planes of her skin or the ink of her tattoos is one of her favourite ways to wind down, and having your fingers brush through her hair (especially when they brush against her undercut)? Pure. Heaven. Simple as. If she's having a really bad day, that is a surefire way to cheer her up.

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

Someone who doesn't stick to their word, or to their morals. She loves seeing reliability and someone being steadfast; if she doesn't see that, she doesn't feel like she can wholly trust someone. And of course, without trust, there can be no real love. Other than that, if she can get a good connection with someone, everyone's fair game, really.

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)  

Vi only sleeps the minimal amount that she needs to to keep her true self or be able to perform tasks. She finds it incredibly difficult to get to sleep without being thoroughly exhausted first; so part of the coaxing that you have to do involves working out - a good, reliable way to tire her out. She also doesn't need a lot in terms of possessions; so long as she has somewhere to lay, she's able to get some sleep. Though, on the odd occasion that she does try to sleep on the floor, you're eventually able to drag her groggy self into your shared bed, mostly with promises of affection and cuddles.

[bubbleggum444]

—❝CRΛSH LANƊING IИTO YOU❞

contents clark kent x fem!reader, traffic officer!reader au, fluff, 2k+ wc. synopsis love at first (crash) sight.

The blaring horns of impatient drivers below were just another part of the daily chaos in Metropolis—after all, it was rush hour.

Clark hovered above the city, carrying out his usual morning patrol when—whoa. His vision blurred, his head spun. Strange. Superman doesn’t just get dizzy. Unless… unless he undercooked his chicken last night?

He barely has time to register the sudden, sharp pain piercing through his skull before—

CRASH.

Oh, great. Great job, Clark. Just had to be clumsy today, huh?

Dazed, he scrambles upright in a swift motion, immediately reaching down to help the poor civilian he just plowed into.

And then—oh.

Oh.

His breath catches. His stomach does something weird.

He hadn’t just crashed into anyone. He had crashed into a traffic officer. Not just any traffic officer—the most beautiful traffic officer he had ever laid his sea-blue eyes on.

“I—I’m so sorry, miss! I didn’t mean to bump into you—”

He cringes the second the words leave his mouth. Bump into? Really? He practically bulldozed her.

But instead of being upset, she lets out a soft laugh.

“That certainly was the hardest push I’ve ever received!”

Clark’s heart stutters. She… wasn’t mad? This sweet woman standing in front of him wasn’t mad that he had so idiotically crashed into her, knocked over her equipment, stopped her work?

His nerves, frayed and exposed, ease ever so slightly. He spots her cap on the pavement and, in his usual clumsy manner, stumbles as he rushes to retrieve it.

Another laugh—a beautiful laugh—escapes her lips as she takes it from him, her fingers briefly brushing his.

Up close, he notices the faint scent of vanilla and jasmine lingering around her—sweet, just like her. But then, something else catches his eye. A scratch on her cheek, no doubt from the fall.

Before he even thinks, his hand reaches out, fingertips grazing her skin.

“I—I’m so, so sorry—”

His words vanish, thoughts evaporating the second she gently places her much smaller, surprisingly cold hand over his.

She. was. touching. his. hand.

BEEP BEEP!

The blaring car horn jolts them both. For a moment there, time had frozen, the world had melted away, and they had forgotten everything—including the massive traffic jam forming around them.

“Oh! Oh my!”

She chuckles, flustered, before swiftly gathering her equipment and bringing her whistle to her lips, effortlessly resuming her job.

“I really am sorry,” Clark tries again, guilt twisting in his chest. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, Superman.” Her voice is gentle, yet composed, cutting off his nervous rambling. “Be on your way now. I’m sure you’ve got your hands full.”

He nods quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, right… I should go. But, uh—this might be weird, and sudden, and maybe a little out of line, but—” He exhales sharply, steeling himself. “Would you let me take you out for coffee sometime? Maybe?”

His heart thumps. Hard. Too bold. Way too bold. But he also knew he needed to try. To let go, even just a little. And right now, with a woman like her in front of him, he couldn’t let the moment slip.

“I…” Her lips part, then curl into a small, shy smile. “Yeah.” A nervous chuckle escapes her. “I’d like that, Superman.”

BEEP BEEP!

Another honk. Another impatient driver.

Clark barely registers it—his head is too busy spinning, his heart too busy soaring.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

© — ggυɱi '25

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ

[27dragons]

Hiii I‘ve been loving seeing you more on my dash lately, been following you and reading your fics for like six years now and truly no one else’s works have filled my bookmarks as much as yours (and Tisfans of course).

One of yours was the very first winteriron fic I ever read and it had me fall in love instantly, haven’t found anything else like them since. I love that you found your writing muse again, and I know it’s been a long time and a lot of the fandom has fizzled out. But I just wanted to pop in an ask if maybe one day you could see yourself writing MCU again?

In any case, it’s been a lot of lovely years with your writing and you’ll make (and are making) a lot of other new people incredibly happy with your amazing skill and talent for words, worldbuilding and characterisation <3

Hey there! I'm so delighted that you've enjoyed my fics so much!!! It really means a lot to me.

The tldr is that yes, there's at least a slim chance that I might write winteriron/MCU again one day. There is a whole stack of partially-written WIPs still in my writing folder that I can't bring myself to archive and retire.

I'll admit that my enthusiasm for MCU faded a lot when they killed Tony off. And then a massive surge in my depression (thanks in part to COVID and then tisfan's death and then my mom's) all but extinguished my ability to write. I had a creative burst for about 3 months in 2023 with Sandman and the Dreamling ship that resulted in about a dozen fics, but the one fic that I managed to write in 2024 (which was winteriron!) felt like pulling teeth to finish.

But I'm still reading some winteriron fics (and the occasional stony), so it's not entirely dead to me. (For that matter, I did quite a few winteriron/MCU ficlets with my Countdowns here on tumblr in both '23 and '24 - check my "countdown to 2024" and "countdown to 2025" tags if you missed those.)

It's just that winteriron is closely tied to tisfan for me (even before we were writing together, she was always my beta reader), and it's hard to think about it without her. (Also, I've written SO MUCH winteriron, it's hard to come up with any scenarios that I haven't already done, lol)

The Arcane/Jayvik bug has bitten hard, and it's such a relief to know that I can still write, but I'm still waiting to see if this will fizzle out again after a few months like the Dreamling stuff did.

If I do keep writing, there's a pretty decent chance that I will eventually come back to winteriron, at least occasionally. If nothing else, I'd love to one day finish the fic that tisfan and I were working on when she had her stroke.

But I expect it will take a while. If you asked because you're considering unfollowing/unsubscribing so your inbox and dash aren't cluttered with notifications for a fandom you have no interest in, then I promise I won't be offended if you want to do that and just set yourself a reminder to check back in a year to see what happened. I've made that decision myself a few times, and I know it comes with a sliver of heartbreak and guilt. But I understand that not everyone will want to follow me everywhere that I go, and that in no way diminishes my appreciation for the love you've given my fics in the past, whether you just clicked kudos or left a comment on every chapter.

Thank you again for this very kind note. I'm so happy to have given you something you've enjoyed so much.

❤️💛

[starryeyedstray]

have hank and nines bonding and brooding over connor's planned obsolescence. i wrote this awhile ago and it has come back to haunt my thoughts

Hank sighed as he entered the house thinking about dinner. Connor said he wasn’t going to be able to come home tonight, so he figured ordering delivery was his move. He froze when he spotted a familiar silhouette filling his kitchen. The smell of cooking wafted over him. He stood dumbly in the doorway. 

“Hey Con—” he stopped himself. The android in a noticeably not-white but black button up only looked like Connor, but he was a bit taller, wider. With an expression flat and almost scowling as he cooked. Hank's eyes flicked to the white jacket hanging on his coat rack. “You’re not Connor.” 

“An astute observation, Lieutenant,” a voice like Connor’s but not in any way like his answered. Almost monotone and a bit deeper. 

Are all RK-line androids smartasses? “What the hell are you doing in my house, Nines?” Hank questioned as he removed his shoes at the doorway. “And why the fuck are you cooking?” 

“Connor has expressed concerns about your health and was lamenting his incapability to cook for you tonight. I offered to cook in his stead.” 

“And when did you start caring about my health?” Hank said still watching the android curiously, patting Sumo as he approached the kitchen.  

“I do not have a particular interest in your health, Lieutenant. But Connor cares,” Nines responded. And I care about Connor. He left that thought unsaid. 

“Huh, and you’ll come over and do something you’ve never done before… for Connor?” Hank asked.

There was a sparkle in the human's eye that reminded Nines of the one Markus had when they had discussed Connor. The deviant set aside a task to compare these two moments to try to discern what that look meant. 

“Yes.” Nines set a plate down as Hank reached the dining table. It was one of the recipes that Connor recommended.

Connor had been surprised when Nines offered to help. Though initially he kept declining, his worry over Hank getting a proper meal and not drinking overrode is worry that Nines' sudden presence might discomfort Hank. He knew the man might get upset, but he also knew him and Nines got along surprisingly well.

Hank took a seat. He wanted to ask more questions, but he was also starving so he hastily shoveled some of the food into his mouth. “Hm, not bad.” 

“Is there room for improvement?” 

“I mean it’s good. But not as good as Connor’s.” 

“Elaborate.” 

“I don’t know. It’s just different. Still good.” Hank said between mouthfuls. He wasn’t sure if it was because Nines looked like Connor, but he found it relatively easy to talk to him. The android was always direct and blunt. Something the lieutenant could appreciate after a lifetime of trying to read between the lines of what people were saying. 

“I followed the recipe exactly. There should be no variance between how Connor and I cook.” 

“No, Connor’s is definitely better.” 

Nines flat expression stretched into a slight frown. “I am Connor’s more advanced successor. I should be able to execute things as well as him if not better. Explain what difference you detect in our cooking."

“I think it’s missing love,” Hank joked, laughing as confusion crossed Nines' face. “Connor cooks with love, so it tastes better.” 

“You can’t cook with love. And love would not have a discernible taste to affect cooking.” 

“Nah, I can taste.”  

Nines wanted to argue more, but Hank interrupted him. 

“So what? You plan on cooking me dinner whenever Connor can’t? Isn’t that a little much to do when you don’t actually give a shit about me?” 

“It distresses Connor when you do not care for your wellbeing. It is perplexing seeing Connor worry over things outside his control, so I will do what I can to give him some comfort. Though I will never understand why he is more concerned with your mortality over his own planned obsolescence."

Hank was about to counter that Nines could just go fuck off if he was just doing this to win brownie points with Connor, but stopped as he heard the last sentence. “Planned obsolescence? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Nine was about to answer, but his LED flashed yellow as he studied Hank. Connor hasn’t told him. “I’m going to clean the kitchen.” 

“No, get back here Nines. The only thing I like about you is that you don’t dance around the truth. So drop the bullshit. What do you mean planned obsolescence?” 

Nines stored away the implication that Hank actually liked at least one thing about him when he was sure the lieutenant liked zero things about him. He focused his processors on deciding whether to reveal the truth to Hank.

[ REFUSE ] If he refused to tell the truth, Hank would no longer have anything he liked about Nines and it could further strain his relationship with the man which would make it difficult to do favors for him on behalf of Connor. Then Hank would confront Connor about it anyway, and Connor may be upset with him for letting it slip.

[ TRUTH ] If he told the truth, it would likely increase rapport with Hank. While he did not care to increase rapport with Hank, Connor liked Hank so if Hank liked Nines, Connor would like Nines more. At least, theoretically. Then Hank would still confront Connor about it anyway, and Connor would be upset with him for telling Hank the truth. 

In both scenarios, Connor would likely be upset with him. So it was really a lose-lose for Nines. Perhaps, he could convince Hank not to bring it up with Connor if he told the truth. 

[ TRUTH ]

Nines sat down after coming to this conclusion. “Did Connor say why he couldn’t return home tonight?” 

“He just said he had to take care of things at New Jericho that would keep him busy. I take it he lied.” 

“He is at New Jericho because he is busy.” 

“So he didn’t tell me the whole truth then.” 

“Do you know what planned obsolescence means?” 

“Something about building something to breakdown.” 

“Connor is a prototype. Not meant for durability or longevity. Cyberlife had always planned to replace him. So they used experimental parts that would eventually breakdown and become obsolete. They did not care if he was incompatible with most biocomponents. He was always going to be discarded after he completed his mission. Planned obsolescence.” Nines was keen to not mention that he would have been Connor’s replacement because that certainly would not bode well for his rapport with the lieutenant. 

“So what does that mean for him?” 

“It means his biocomponents are only meant to be sustainable for one year. Most androids biocomponents are meant to last a minimum of 25 years. Though with proper maintenance it can last much longer.” 

“O-one year? But he’s gotten biocomponents replaced before. So it’s not a big deal right? He can just get new ones.” 

“Cyberlife had a substantial amount of inventory that was compatible with his model. But…” His LED flashed red for a second. “They carelessly burned through a large portion with their... testing.” He said that word distastefully. 

“So what happens when we run out of biocomponents for him?” 

“I think you already know the answer to that.” 

Hank stood up and slammed the table causing Sumo to startle with a bark. “What the fuck? What kind of bullshit is this? He’s the android. He’s the one that’s supposed to last a hundred years. He can’t just— One year—shit.” He collapsed back into the chair. “So what’s happening to him right now?” 

“Most of his biocomponents had been replaced the last time he left Cyberlife with the exception of biocomponent #54890f which helps circulate the air as a secondary cooling system. He is undergoing treatment to get those replaced tonight. Normally, this biocomponent is not vital to androids, but it can be necessary for and those that engage in strenuous or high processing activities.” 

Hank suddenly recalled the past couple weeks of Connor seeming winded. After an extended chase or a long day, he would be breathing deeply for much longer. Hank had teased him about being out of shape, and Connor teased back saying he must be getting old. In reality, his fucking lungs were shutting down.  

“When did he know about all of this?” 

“It was mentioned when he had last returned to Cyberlife.” 

“And he didn’t tell me.” 

“As I mentioned earlier, he worries about your wellbeing over his own. He didn’t want to concern you about something you can’t change.” 

“Well, that makes it fucking fine, doesn’t it?” Hank said sarcastically. “Shit. How much time does he have left? I fucking—” Hank’s voice broke off. He couldn’t lose Connor to something as bullshit as not having the enough parts because fucking Cyberlife didn't want to waste money on their prototype. Fuck, Connor wasn’t even 2 years old yet. 

“Lieutenant,” Nines' voice was stern. Hank looked up at him and he was met with a steely grey gaze. “I’m not going to let Connor die.” 

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s a guarantee. It will take some time, but I will ensure we can manufacture Connor’s biocomponents before it becomes dire. So until then, you need to maintain your health so Connor can happily live by your side for approximately 40 more years. By then, Connor should be adequately prepared for your mortal end and able to move on without too many repercussions.” 

“You got it all mapped out, don’t you?” Hank looked down at his plate of cooling food and ate a bit more. Contemplating their conversation. For a long time, Hank had been resigned to dying early and just letting either a bullet or the alcohol to take him. And sometimes, he still thought that way. But lately, he’s found some things worth living for. Most of it is Connor. He can’t imagine Connor dying before him and it seemed like Connor felt the same way. Maybe that’s why he's always so keen to throw himself in front of danger on his behalf. He finished eating as he mulled over this thoughts some more. He shot another glance at Nines who had stood up and began cleaning up the kitchen. 

“You really like Connor, don’t you?” 

Nines debated on if he should temper his answer, but Hank seemed to appreciate his honesty. “Yes.” 

Hank was now staring at Nines' back. “I thought you were head tech at New Jericho now. Why aren’t you the one operating on him?” 

Nines hesitated, his LED flashing red for the briefest moment. “This is a simple surgery that I could execute flawlessly. But it’s an important one, and I am still reluctant to operate on Connor due to our… history. I don’t want to jeopardize anything if I hesitate during his operation.” Nines still didn't fully trust himself.

Connor had been vague when he told Hank about the time he was forced to return to Cyberlife. It was one of the reasons he still had his guard up when he first saw Nines and Connor together. But he had come to warm up to Nines over the past few months. This conversation certainly helped tear down the rest of the apprehensions he had.

“Well, thanks for the dinner,” Hank replied as he brought his dishes to the sink. It felt weird to have Nines just come to cook him dinner and leave. “You wanna watch some TV?” 

Nines considered the suggestion for longer than he normally would have. “If I leave, will you consume alcohol?” 

“Probably not.” 

“Probably not implies a possibility. Connor was very adamant about ensuring you refrain from alcohol consumption. I will stay to ensure that you sleep at a reasonable time without any alcohol.” 

Hank shook his head. Fucking androids. He made his way to the couch and turned on the TV. 

“Lieutenant.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Could you not tell Connor that I told you about his planned obsolescence?” 

“Well, I want to fucking talk about it with him.” 

“I will encourage him to speak to you about it if keep your discretion in the meantime.” 

“You really don’t want to get on his bad side, huh?” 

“I’ve been on his bad side long enough.” 

“Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. But if he takes too long to talk to me about it, I’m throwing you under the bus.” 

Nines was about to question why that would warrant Hank throwing him into a bus, but he quickly searched up the phrase to discern its meaning. “I see. I will make sure it does not come to that.” 

“But thanks for telling me, Nines.” 

“You’re welcome, Lieutenant.” 

“Call me Hank.” 

-end-

i headcanon that since the rk900s are supposed to be military models, they have robust android technician knowledge so they can repair themselves during combat. so after deviating, nines becomes the android technician for new jericho.

this is part of a larger unpublished fic i've been working on ever since i joined dbh taking place post-pacificist ending. slight spoilers, but they are making references to when connor was temporarily reclaimed by cyberlife. and uhm, let's just say nines' and connor's initial interactions were not pleasant ehehe

hope y'all enjoyed! writing brain seems to want to focus on everything but the things i want to focus so yeah take this.

[ronearoundblindly]

Ohhh Valentine's who would! Who would write you a love letter/ be your secret admirer?

eee, so cute! (Warnings for language because Lloyd is on this list all the time.)

James Mace

Though he keeps them basic, simple, short and sweet, Mace absolutely writes love notes. If you aren't already dating, he'd be the deepest of secret admirers, meaning you would get lovely gifts and things but never know who he was. Mace strikes me as the "hopelessly in love with his best friend" type. He's around to make sure his gifts are appreciated, stops if they aren't, and also escalates if you seem super interested 🥰.

Curtis Everett

Definitely a secret-admirer type but not really a letter writer. Curtis also keeps it simple. He prefers 'gifts' that make your day easier, so he coordinates more tedious tasks be done (if you work together) or does stuff like pay for your drink ahead of you in line at the café. Little things like that rather than deliveries of chocolates and flowers.

Jimmy Dobyne

Old school and old fashioned, Jimmy will write you the occasional letter. It's meaningful but not gushy. He's honest about how happy you make him and descriptive of your best times together. Every so often flowers or candy don't seem like enough, usually after hard times or big events. Valentine's as a holiday...doesn't really count.

Johnny Storm

Nah. If he likes you, you'll know, and if he can just text or call, he ain't writing shit on paper.

Jake Jensen

Digitally? Yes, tons of notes. Bunch of AI/deepfake videos of animals or famous people professing how much he loves you. Most of them are funnier than hell, several have brought you to tears, and I would not put it past him to sneak an intro to a marriage proposal in one...

Lloyd Hansen

He takes great pride in making all the little cards on gifts horrible. "So you smell better" on the perfume he buys you, "eat me and like it" on the chocolates, and, of course, "don't be fucking late" on the dinner invite. On the back it also says "wear something slutty."

Ari Levinson

No letters, sorry. Snail mail reminds him of deployment so he'd rather not. Ari did enough secretive stuff in the military, too, so he'll just openly admire you, thanks.

Ransom Drysdale

He tried once.

He then had to clean up an overflowing bin of wasted papers from shit drafts, and he's never fucking doing that again. He'll take you shopping. Problem solved.

Andy Barber

The only love letters/notes he's written have been in apology for having to miss a date or special occasion due to work. Sorry. I know that sucks, but overall, you'd also rather he spend time actually with you whenever possible instead of running around buying cards and writing notes.

Steve Rogers

They start as letters but end up half full of doodles. One of Steve's favorite subjects to sketch from memory is your profile. Your smile comes in at a close second.

Bucky Barnes

Would so much rather spend the time and effort with you, but if he has to be away (and he can find enough space for himself to quietly focus on it) then he'll write you. Though he's not as well-read or eloquent as Steve, Bucky has the advantage of being slightly dorkier and (deliberately) funnier. His love letters are sweet, spicy, and often hilarious.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[umikawa]

a/n: this was actually the first senku thing I wrote but I didn’t like it but now I do kinda, was gonna be a whole thing where he revives reader during the car building part but I got lazy 😇

senku ishigami x gn!reader | ~1.5k wc | small injury near the end, nothing too graphic. reader is in mechanics club bc I said so. senku is not subtle but also not obvious enough. No actual confession or romance, just senku pretending he’s not in love

Before he’d entered the arts hallway, the loud banging and clattering had already clouded his hearing, irritating him almost instantly.

Senku never liked coming down this hall; it never served him any other purpose than the mandatory art classes he had to take. But at the end of the hall, an extended part of the school was the mechanic's classroom, bearing the one person he would go out of his way to see.

“Oi.” Senku stands with an agitated grin when you don’t hear him the first time, raising his voice slightly and throwing a towel at your head. He takes in your reaction: a jolt and mouth ready to curse whoever dared to disturb you, grease and oil swiped across your forehead. He grimaces at the sight. “Jeez.”

“Senku!” You grin, picking up the rag that was thrown at you. “What are you doing here?”

He waves dismissively, taking the rag from your hands to wipe your face. It was a simple—affectionate— gesture, one that Senku thought nothing of because that’s what it was. Nothing.

He wipes the grease on your forehead first, watching your eyes flutter shut happily as he holds your head in place. Then he goes to your cheek, being mindful of the skin under your eyes. Red and sensitive due to your barbaric rubbing when washing your face, fearing the dirt and grime left under your skin will leave blemishes.

Senku thought that was ironic. How someone could jump head-first into car fluid but freak out about a pimple forming on their skin.

His hand falls from your face, taking your hands and wiping your palms and fingers one by one. You hum happily when he throws the rag down on your workbench. “Thanks, Senku.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “How long have you been holed up in this noisy hell?”

You tilt your head, tapping your finger against your chin to show you’re thinking. “I started installing new brakes at twelve… then a tachometer at two… tweaked the engine around three…um.” You trailed off when you caught his eye, glancing at his cell phone that shined a bright seven-thirty-six in your face.

“You haven’t eaten in seven hours. I’d bet ten billion yen you’ve had nothing to drink either.” He scolds. Based on your shrunken self, he figured he was right about everything he just said. He sighs, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

Taking care of himself was a hassle enough. Taking care of both of you was even worse.

“Let’s go.”

Senku patiently waits in your chair while you clean up. He notes how you put things away: wrenches go in this drawer, sockets in this one, and sockets in this one. Hell, even your rags were sorted by type.

That was one thing Senku appreciated about you—your attention to detail and organization.

“Where are we going?” You ask, hanging your coveralls in your locker.

Senku rises from the chair to stand beside you, holding you by the elbow. “We’re going to go eat.” He says, looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a smirk the moment your stomach growled. “Your treat, of course.”

“Of course.” You muttered with a quick roll of your eyes. Senku almost missed it.

The walk to the ramen shop was quiet. A serene silence wafted over you two like a veil, a warm embrace that held you like an old friend. A bell jingled above you as you held the door open for him, and a snide remark about chivalry spilled from Senku’s lips.

He waits for you to sit and occupy yourself with the menu, then takes his stool and teeters it to complain about its imbalance. But you know it’s just a guise to move the chair closer to you. He does it every time, but you wouldn’t dare point it out.

His knee was against yours, shoulder brushing against yours ever so often, any other person sitting at the counter was sitting evenly spread out. It was an obvious ploy to be closer to you.

This was another thing you did that he appreciated. You let him play his unbalanced chair act, never shied away from his touch, never complained when he did it, and never called him out for it.

You don’t talk during dinner. Other than the question of how the food tastes, possible seconds, and the near-obnoxious slurping, it was silent.

Then, during the walk back home, Senku strikes up a conversation.

“How’s your build going?”

It amazed him how shocked you were by his question. Was it really that uncommon of him to ask about you? He’s sure he’d put forth interest in your work time and time before, but now he wasn’t sure.

“It’s going amazing.” When your shock wears off, you say, “I’m thinking about changing the interior again.”

“Yeah?” Senku laughs, shaking his head. It'll be the sixth time you’d change it. “What are you thinking now? New lining wasn’t enough?”

You laugh lightly, scratching the side of your cheek. “Actually, I was just thinking about swapping out the seats. You don’t like leather seats, right, Senku?”

He pauses, staring at you as he stops walking. “Huh? Why does my preference of seats matter to your car?”

“I just thought…” you trail off, feeling your face warm under his stare. “Maybe we could go to new places together– with Taiju and Yuzuriha too, of course!” He laughs at your attempt at a save, placing his hand on your head.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m ten billion percent certain you’d only ask me that kind of question.”

Another thing Senku appreciated about you; your attention to detail when it came to him.

“Well, am I right then?” You ask, turning once he begins walking again. “You don’t like leather seats?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling to himself. “I don’t.”

The next time Senku visits you, he has a banana milk in his hands. You’re busy installing your new (not leather) seats whilst he waits and spins in your chair, threatening to drink the milk if you don’t stop to take a break.

“Senku, I just need ten more minutes, please.” The sound of exasperation fills his ears, he could tell even with your back to him that the frustration was starting to get to you. And if he said the wrong thing, that bubbling emotion would spill over like an experiment gone wrong.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, almost in an uncharacteristically timid tone.

He wonders why he’s sitting here in the first place; there are experiments to be done in the science club room, beakers, and test tubes waiting to be used. But he was here waiting for you.

That’s one thing Senku can classify as a thing he hates– dislikes– about you. How you make him wait and how he does it without a problem or protest.

And how you were the only one he’d wait for.

Ten minutes go by painfully slowly. He can hear a string of curses falling past your lips near the nine-minute mark, making him rise from his seat to come to your aid.

“What happened?”

You slide out of the car, holding your shaking hand, blood trickling down your now torn knuckles. “Wrench slipped, and my hand went straight down.” You wince, hastily walking to the sink with him trailing close behind. “Can you get me the alcohol under the sink?”

He abides by your word, quickly grabbing the bottle before he takes hold of your hand. “This’ll hurt.” You nod. You already knew that.

When Senku pours the liquid over your knuckles, a wince fills his ears, and guilt fills his heart at the sound. Note that as another thing he dislikes.

“I’m sorry if I sounded rude earlier.” You say suddenly, brows knitted. “You were looking out for me and I snapped at you.”

He clicks his teeth, of course you were worried about him instead of yourself. “It’s fine. It’s not like I’m sensitive to that kind of thing. I don’t give a shit if you yell at me.”

You hum, protesting lightly when he opens up the first aid kit. “I can do it myself, Senku, it’s alright.”

“I’m aware that you can.” He laughs, placing a gauze pad over your knuckles before he wraps bandages around your hand loosely enough for you to still move it. “But you’re letting me help you anyway.”

“That’s because you tell me I’d ‘ten billion percent cut off my circulation’ when I try to do it.” You imitate his voice, scoffing at the light swat he gave you. “Besides, this is how I know you love me.” You laugh. It was intended as a joke, but Senku knew you thought it was true.

“As if.” He scoffs, catching your gaze. He knows you see right through him. “I do this because you’d die without me.”

When you don’t say anything in return or rebuttal, Senku supposed that statement was true.