#but that’s really it from the top of my head

[edwardian-sea-witch]

Out of sincere curiosity, OP, what are some examples of these motifs found only in the Grimm’s published collections and not in unedited oral tradition variants? My experience with their work has largely been that where they made edits they were adding a veneer of gentility/smoothing out the more potentially upsetting elements.

I enjoy a joke about fucked up German fairy tales as much as the next nerd, but it's genuinely striking how often the source for the really fucked up stuff turns out to be "yeah, this is only in the Brothers Grimm version and doesn't appear in any extant oral tradition, and we're like 80% sure they added it themselves". To a large extent it's not German fairy tales that are fucked up, it's two specific German dudes.

[babyleostuff]

― FIRST SNOW

there is a superstition that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you like, true love will blossom between both and it will be long-lasting.

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, cuddly and in love love gyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 518

💌 natalia’s note: ik it may be a bit early for winter fics but recently we had first snow in poland and i just had this urge to write something about it [edit: and now korea also had its first snow so yippie]

“look!” 

you hummed and nodded weakly, though instead of opening your eyes you snuggled further into mingyu's warm chest, basking in the softness of his sweater and the steady beat of his heart underneath your ear. 

days off were the best. 

“baby,” your boyfriend murmured excitedly against your temple and ran his cold finger along your cheek. “it’s snowing!” 

with mingyu’s arm holding your waist in a tight grip; not that you complained, the afternoon teddy bear cuddles, especially in the colder weather were the best, it was a bit difficult for you to actually move to see the supposed snow. 

“it’s so pretty,” he said in awe, as if it was his first time seeing it. “look, look!” he said and pointed at the window that was behind you.

“gyu?” you mumbled and propped yourself on his chest as much as you could. “i’d really love to see it, but you’re holding me hostage and my neck is too sore to turn it all the way around”. 

mingyu’s eyes widened, and a small pout appeared on his face. “oh shit, right. sorry.”

you cupped his chin and placed a kiss at the tip of his nose. "'s okay," you said, before sitting all the way up and turning around towards the window.

and your boyfriend was right. even though your view of the city below was very blurry due to mingyu's apartment being on a high floor, you could still imagine how pretty the streets must look now, covered in the white fluff. 

“i can’t wait to beat your ass in a snowball fight,” you said and turned back to your boyfriend. 

you weren’t sure if it was due to the bad lightning, since mingyu insisted on turning all the lights off and lightning some candles, but you could’ve sworn he was blushing, but before you could ask him about that he took a hold of your hand and pulled you back to his chest. 

“you know what the first snow means, right?” he asked after a beat of silence. 

nodding, you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face. 

“we’ve been together for five years, gyu. i don’t think that superstition counts for us anymore.” 

he hummed and nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head. “maybe,” he said. “but i like to believe that every first snowfall we witness in this life will allow us to meet our next ones,” you felt his hand brush the hair from your neck in a gentle manner, “and i hope to witness as many of them as we can.” 

not really knowing what to say, because who the hell says things like that, you lifted your head from the crook of mingyu’s neck and looked at his ruffled dark hair and shiny brown eyes that were looking at you with more love than it should be legal. 

“you’re impossible, kim mingyu,” you shook your head with a laugh. 

all you got in response was an irresistibly devastating grin, before he leaned in and sealed your lips in a kiss that could melt any amount of snow.

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[soulrox]

DPxDC #22

(kind of a prequel/companion for #21 adding in my new OC whispers)

Danny is squatting in an abandoned building working on some tech he found in a dumpster.

??: *whispering* Numbers, the wind told me you are a protector and will keep me safe.

Danny turns his head to see a little blond girl in torn, dirty street clothes, maybe around age 10. The spirits around Danny all gain that soft look in their eyes when seeing something precious.

Danny aka Numbers: Well I can certainly try, what do you need? And what do I call you?

Little girl: *Whispering* I'm Whisper. Metas, especially young ones are trafficked. The wind sings to me, telling me secrets. Your secrets are many but you are a protector and can keep me safe.

Numbers tries to keep his face in check hearing the truth, pain, and fear in the young girl's words. Without hesitation, agrees to be her protector.

Numbers: Welp guess I'm a big brother (again). Okay, Whisper I will take you with me and protect you. You do not have to share anything at all about what you hear unless you want to, understand.

Whispers smile is blinding while she nods.

Numbers is well known to the other street kids as he's been living in Gotham for a few months and has good street cred. He is known to be kind to everyone and help anyone, especially with anything to do with numbers. Numbers is also well known for giving info to Red Hood on those who go against the rules of Crime Alley. Red Hood himself is supportive of Numbers, even though it's clear Numbers isn't a native Gothamite.

The kids of Crime Alley soon get used to Numbers and Whispers being inseparable and Numbers calling Whisper his sister. However, the street kids were not ready for what would become of the duo.

Whispers knowing now she would be safe did tell Numbers the secrets carried by the wind. Anything from the little things like someone tripped a few blocks over to a member of the Bats and Birds near, to the trafficking ring being set up outside Crime Alley.

Numbers knows he has to share the bigger things with Red Hood. Especially because Numbers has hung up his own vigilante suit. Racking his brain for how to share this information without letting people know it came from Whispers was actually easy to figure out. Numbers will say he's a psychopomp. Well, he can see and interact with ghosts since he himself is half dead but shhhh.

The spirits of Gotham are in abundance but he hasn't really interacted with them since coming here. He did listen to them when they told him Crime Alley run by Red Hood would make a good place to live.

Asking the ghosts to find out where Hood is was simple. A young male with a gruesome hole in his chest had shown them right to the rooftop Hood was chilling on. Numbers grabbed hold of Whisper and using his powers flew them to the top.

Numbers: Hello Red Hood! Lovely night for a rooftop stroll!

Red Hood gave a minuscule flinch.

Hood: Numbers! *grumbling* every time.

Hood: What do you got for me this time?

Hood notices that Numbers isn't alone for the first time. He inclines his head in a silent question.

Numbers: This is my little sister Whispers!

Whispers gives a small wave from beside him.

Numbers: And I got a new trafficking ring being set up at ____corner of ______ outside of Crime Alley. They haven't picked anyone up yet though.

Whisper nudges him. Leaning down so Whispers can talk to him

Whisper: *whispering* they are planning to head out in the morning.

Standing back up straight, Numbers turns his head to look at an empty spot, tilting his head like he's listening to something then turns to Hood.

Numbers: Actually you should hurry with dealing with them they are planning to head out in the morning.

Hood: Hmm okay, Numbers you always have the best intel but this is new even for you. Do you want to tell me how the info has changed since you've been standing here or?

Numbers: *sigh* only because you are Red Hood will I tell you. I am a psychopomp.

Hood stumped: okay cool I'll keep that to myself then, thank you for trusting me. Anything you learn from them you can tell me personally and I'll help in any way I can.

Hood quickly departed heading off to deal with the traffickers.

Whisper: *whispering* the wind sings his praise so much, even though his secrets burden him.

Numbers: The ghosts sing his praise too.

[kateschi]

chef's kiss is not enough

synopsis: a simple night out for good food changes when you meet the chef behind a dish that leaves you speechless.

pairing: chef!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the restaurant is cozy, the kind of place that doesn’t draw much attention from the outside but feels like a hidden treasure once you step inside.

soft lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden tables, and the low murmur of conversation mixes with the occasional clinking of plates.

you’re here with friends, seated at a corner table, menus spread out in front of you.

it’s the kind of night where you’re just looking forward to good food and laughter.

the waiter approaches, balancing several plates on his tray, and sets a bowl down in front of you. you thank him absentmindedly, but the moment your eyes land on your dish, you can’t help but pause.

it’s beautiful in its simplicity—steaming ramen served in a deep bowl, the broth shimmering under the restaurant’s soft light.

thin slices of pork rest delicately on the surface, alongside a soft-boiled egg, its yolk a vibrant golden color. green onions and a sheet of nori top it off, each detail deliberate and precise.

when you take the first bite, your eyes widen. the broth is rich and savory, the kind of flavor that seems to envelop your entire mouth.

the noodles are perfectly cooked, springy but not too firm, soaking up just enough of the broth.

each topping complements the next—the pork is tender, the egg creamy, the green onions adding a fresh, sharp contrast.

it’s the kind of dish that doesn’t just taste good; it feels like someone put their heart into it.

“oh my god,” you mutter, setting your chopsticks down for a moment. “this is incredible.”

your friends laugh at your reaction, one of them nudging you with their elbow. “you always get like this when the food’s good.”

“no, but this—this is different,” you insist, leaning closer to the bowl as if it holds some sort of secret. “this isn’t just good; this is like…life-changing.”

the comment earns a round of laughter, but you’re already distracted, glancing around the room for the waiter.

when you catch his eye, you raise a hand. “excuse me, who’s the chef here?”

the waiter looks surprised by the question. “our head chef is bakugou katsuki. would you like me to—”

“yes, please,” you interrupt, a little too quickly. realizing how eager you sound, you backtrack. “I mean, if he’s not too busy.”

the waiter nods and disappears toward the kitchen, leaving your friends to give you a variety of amused and curious looks.

“what?” you say defensively. “it’s not every day you eat something this good.”

a few minutes later, the kitchen door swings open, and the man who walks out is…not what you expected.

you were picturing someone older, maybe with a few gray hairs and a soft smile.

instead, this man—bakugou katsuki, apparently—is tall and broad-shouldered, his chef’s coat fitting snugly over a strong frame.

his spiky blond hair looks slightly damp, like he’s been working hard, and his expression is one of mild irritation.

he looks more like a professional athlete than a chef.

“what?” he says, his voice low and rough, as he strides up to your table. his crimson eyes sweep over the group before landing on you.

and for a moment, bakugou freezes. he didn’t know what to expect when the waiter said someone wanted to meet him—probably some pompous critic or a customer with a laundry list of complaints.

but you’re not what he expected. at all. there’s something about the way you’re looking at him, your eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and awe, that throws him completely off balance.

you’re…really pretty. too pretty, actually.

it’s annoying, how much it catches him off guard. his chest tightens, and he suddenly feels hyperaware of himself—his hands, his posture, the faint dampness of his forehead from the heat of the kitchen.

damn it.

“I, uh,” you start, faltering under his intense gaze. you weren’t expecting him to be so—well, intimidating. “I just wanted to say that the food is amazing. like, really amazing.”

for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw tightening slightly. then he rubs the back of his neck, glancing away as if trying to compose himself. “thanks,” he mutters, his tone less gruff than before.

the way he looks away almost makes you smile.

he doesn’t seem like the type to take compliments well, and you can’t help but find it endearing. but at the same time, his presence is overwhelming, and you feel heat creeping up your neck.

“well,” he says abruptly, his eyes snapping back to yours. “if that’s it, I’ve got stuff to do.”

“right, of course,” you say quickly, nodding. “thank you again.”

he nods once, almost curtly, before turning and heading back toward the kitchen. you watch him go, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite organize.

the rest of the evening goes by in a blur.

you and your friends continue to chat and laugh, but your thoughts keep drifting back to bakugou. his sharp eyes, the way he looked almost flustered when you complimented him.

it’s distracting, and you can’t quite shake it.

as you’re leaving, stepping out into the cool night air, a voice calls out behind you.

“hey.”

you turn to see him standing in the doorway, still in his chef’s coat. he looks like he’s debating whether this is a good idea or not, his expression tight with something between determination and reluctance.

in his hand is a paper bag with the restaurant’s logo. “here,” he says, holding it out to you.

you blink, confused. “I didn’t order takeout.”

“it’s on me,” he says, shoving the bag toward you. his crimson eyes flick to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“oh, but—”

“just take it,” he interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind.

you hesitate for a moment before taking the bag. your fingers brush against his, and the brief contact sends a strange warmth through your chest. “thank you,” you murmur.

he nods, and for a moment, it looks like he might say something else. but then he just steps back inside, the door closing behind him.

when you get home, you open the bag to find a perfectly packaged serving of the ramen you raved about earlier. sitting on top is a small note, written in slightly messy handwriting:

xxx-xxx-xxxx the name’s katsuki. text me.

a smile creeps onto your face, and you find yourself thinking that maybe, just maybe, you will.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[reignpage]

Basketball Captain!Toji

Detroit Pistons: reaching for the ball

Warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, bts of a modern au!smau (part 2 of Toji's series), can be read as a standalone but makes most sense with the context, cursing, mentions of blood and violence, general stupidity at a party, just one long foreplay really, not proofread

You really shouldn’t be here. 

Not a party full stop, not trying to enact petty revenge against your shitty ex, and certainly not with Toji Fushiguro, captain of the basketball team, and resident fuckboy. 

He’s taken you by surprise at every given turn. You hadn’t expected him to ask for your number from his friend, you hadn’t expected him to reach out just to complain about his placement on the List of the hottest men on campus, and especially did not expect him to let you into the gym just because it was raining, though he did shrug off your incredulous look with a nonchalantly delivered jab. 

“Y’ were ruining my view with y’r ugly crying face.”

And somehow, you had let him convince you to use him to make your ex jealous, to show him what he was missing out on. 

Now you, the girl who never drank, never wore short skirts, never stayed out too late, followed every rule to the letter, is now sitting firmly on Toji’s lap, slotting in perfectly like a puzzle piece, at a frat party. 

It’s like you’ve somehow ended up in an alternate universe or woke up in someone else’s body. Maybe you’re in a dream. Except the searing brand of a heavy hand on your bare thigh is disproving any of those theories. 

“You enjoying yourself?” His voice is low and gruff, you feel it vibrate against your body, lulling you into a sense of comfort. The rough denim of his jeans is warming your skin, his solid chest keeps you grounded, and his thick arms have you all wrapped up, balanced securely and protected from the night air.

You nod, head buried in the crook of his neck. Once in a while you inhale his musky aftershave, relishing in that freshly showered scent he always had. “My sources say Gojo throws a party at least once a week.”

“Guy likes to party,” is all he says.

There have been flashes of his white hair around the large house, disappearing among the crowds and into different rooms. He had greeted you when you first walked into the garden to make your way to Toji with a beer in hand like your partner in crime had instructed you. 

Gojo was nice, very friendly, a little loud, but you knew that already. As the writer for the gossip column, you know every thing there was to know about everyone worth knowing. Which is ironic since you’re nobody and you knew none of these people personally. But the frat president knew you. He had greeted you like you were long time friends and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Hey, look who it is! My favourite person in the world.” He slung an arm over your shoulders and cheered with everyone else, seemingly oblivious to the heat rising on your face. “Thanks again for putting me top of the List. Nice to know people have taste.”

And then Toji was grumbling and wrestling you out of the rowdy guy’s grip to a quieter part of the house. He told you to explore the place, get familiar, freshen up your makeup ‘or whatever else chicks need’, and to text him if you find your ex first. 

Now, here you are, making yourself comfortable on his thighs, goosebumps rising along your skin at the feel of his long fingers creeping up your leg and just teasing the hem of your ridiculously short skirt. 

Some people would come over, once in a while, to talk to Toji. They’d say hi to you but they were mostly interested in knowing how the captain feels about the upcoming games. A few girls would stumble over, giggling and twirling their hair but they leave pretty quickly once they see Toji’s eyes fixated on you. 

You have got to give him credit; he’s totally committed to the bit.

Perhaps a little too committed with how he’d frequently whisper right in your ear, warm breath trickling your neck. 

“You look damn good tonight, ma.”

The way he says it, the low groan that he teases you with, makes you press your thighs together. It’s a completely inappropriate reaction; you really should not be feeling tingly from his flirtations. He doesn’t mean them. Toji is just playing the part, trying to goad your ex into a fight so he can ‘ruin the vibe’ at Gojo’s party. 

Because, for whatever reason, Toji had beef with the man that seemed completely one-sided, if the hug the frat president tried to throw to the basketball captain was anything to go by. 

You stutter out a ‘thanks’ and ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. 

Toji huffs a laugh, tightening his hold on you before he leans back in the patio chair, taking you with him so you’re resting on him. Your skirt’s definitely ridden up your ass by now, but his large hand wraps around the flesh there like second nature. 

Despite the chill in the garden, you’re content in his arms. The man runs hot.

It’s easy to get lost in his body; the man is built like a Greek god, all muscle and strength, carved straight from marble. And it’s precisely because he’s so firm and hard beneath you, that you forget your ex is just a couple metres away, leaning against a brick wall with a red cup in hand, glaring at you two. 

“Dunno why Gojo let that guy into the frat when he’s so fucking ugly,” Toji grumbles. 

You laugh. 

Once upon a time, you thought you were lucky to be with him. That he was the catch and you were punching up; he certainly made you feel that way. Always reminding you that he could have any girl on campus, that the barista at your local coffee shop had given him her number with a smiley face, and that as a member of one of the most influential fraternities in the country, he could have any job he wanted. 

But as you throw a glance at him, you realise all of that was false bravado. A Napoleon Complex, most likely. 

And not once, since Toji picked you up, have you felt less than. He compliments you so frequently, so spontaneously, and so earnestly you can’t help but believe him. 

“Why do you hate Gojo, by the way?”

The captain glances down at you, a slow smirk emerging on his face and you gulp at the sight of that scar stretching. You want to know more about it, simply because you’re a journalist, it’s in your nature to be inquisitive, and definitely not because you want to trace the skin there whilst feeling his voice rumble through his body and into yours. 

With a shrug, he lifts his beer to his lips, and admits, “Don’t really hate the guy. Just wanna knock him down a peg or two.”

“I stalked Gojo for about two weeks just for a statement one time, y’know.” You stare at the people hooting and hollering over a table of beer pong, watching their jumping bodies, so light, so free like there isn’t a whole world of problems beyond the frat house’s territory. “When I finally cornered him after his lecture, he laughed and said I didn’t have to do all of that. I could have just texted him.”

Toji huffs an amused laugh. “That’s what’s annoying ‘bout the guy. He’s nice. Real fucking nice. But — and this is off the record, doll — guy’s got problems. And yet he’s always smiling. Just pisses me off, sometimes.”

And to that you just nod. You get it. There are some people out there who just seem to have it all, and you resent them for it, but they never hold it against you, and you resent them even more. 

“How did you become friends with him anyways?”

“Just kinda happened.”

If you have to hazard a guess, you’d probably say it happened through the fact that they all run in the same circle. Big personalities like him and Gojo and Sukuna, are hard to miss. They’re the kind of people want to be around. Everyone knows Sukuna and Toji have been roommates since first year, allocated on a random basis at first, and they hit it off instantly, opting to room together since then. 

With a sweep of the backyard, you enquire, “Where is Sukuna?”

“Somewhere, I’m sure. Guy doesn’t really like parties, actually.”

You gasp. “But my sources say he attends most of them.”

Toji places the bottle in your lap and you cradle it like it’s a treasure. He runs a hand through his hair and leans his head back with his eyes closed like he’s soaking up the moon’s rays. Earlier, you had told him you felt bad you were holding him back from enjoying his night, but he just patted your ass and said ‘it’s good to slow down, sometimes.’

“He does, but I think guy just likes to know all the drama. Likes to cause them too, the prick.”

You poke his chest. “Sounds like someone I know.”

He peeks at you with one eye, small grin on his lips.

“We’re a match made in heaven, doll.”

The conversation fades and you just rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart and desperately trying to ignore the shiver that threatens to wrack up your spine with the graze of his thumb against that sliver of skin between your skirt and top. 

Toji’s holding you like he’s been holding you since the dawn of time. There’s no awkwardness, no uncomfortable shuffles to accommodate your weight, and he doesn’t even look the least bit bothered that sometimes people will point and whisper at the star basketball player and some nobody cuddling up in the corner on a swinging bench. 

You sense movement in the corner of your eye and spot a girl cozying up to your ex. He looks at you with a smug face. 

“How did you know my ex would care?”

You stifle a gasp from the sudden clench of his hand over your waist. It was forceful but gentle, invoking flashing images of him towering over you, wrangling you into position. He could easily bend you over and take what he wanted. Toji is big and muscular, yes, but he’s also an athlete. There’s no doubt in your mind that he has the stamina and endurance to go all night and not break a sweat. 

Shaking your head slightly, you bring the beer to your lips absentmindedly, taking a swig that leaves you blanching. How anyone could drink this, you’d never know. 

“No guy wouldn’t care that his ex moved on pretty quickly. Plus, insecure little shits like him need to think that they got the better end of the deal. He needs to know you’re all sad and stupid over him so he feels important.”

Wise words. 

It surprises you slightly. 

Of course, most students at Eden are smart — being one of the top universities in the world means having high standards. But no one would ever go to a frat-party attending jock for advice, much less dating advice, and expect insightful revelations. You feel guilty for underestimating Toji. He’s actually pretty smart. 

“Look, he’s got a girl on his arm and yet he keeps looking at you.”

It’s true. 

You can feel his leery gaze sweeping up and down your body, and it makes you want to throw up. So you shuffle closer to Toji, impossibly closer, and he lets you. 

“You look hot, doll. Just gotta own it, yeah?” His breath fans over you and it sets your skin ablaze. One hand rubs at your thigh, relishing in the soft, smooth skin and the other is gripping your hip. And beneath you, there’s something you’ve been giving your best shot constantly to pretend isn’t there. 

Toji Fushiguro is hard. 

And big, by the feel of it. 

You already knew that, of course. You get lots of anonymous tips through your ‘Insider’s Line’, as you like to call it, voicing in exhilarated pants about recent escapades. It’s a hotline anyone could call. You’re the only person who has access to the voicemails that get left behind. And it’s never usually a tedious process to sift through the prank calls and the boring confessions to get to the juicy details about the ongoings on campus. 

Many of those voicemails are to do with Toji. Whether that was about how he ‘so hot’ they could just ‘die or, like, combust’ or variations of ‘oh my god, that dick is fire, for real.’

You are not a prude. 

You have too much exposure to much more graphic descriptions of people’s adventures to be shy about sex, not to mention, you’re an adult. A virgin, but still an adult with friends who are not shy about their sex lives, to put it mildly. In fact, you’ve got a certain art student friend who loves to rant all the ways she’d like a certain vandal to ‘paint’ her with his ‘artistic essence.’

Whatever that means. 

And yet, despite all your pieces on the wildest, most inappropriate topics like ‘the hottest sex position right now’ and ‘is six inches really enough?’, you find yourself blushing at the realisation that the captain of the basketball team is sporting a boner that he doesn’t care to hide. 

You clear your throat and with a whisper, you say, “I hope I’m not making you…uncomfortable.”

You wince at the awkward wording. What are you? A child?

Toji grunts. 

“You referring to my boner, ma?” When you nod embarrassed, he taps your thigh with two fingers. “It’s your fault so you gonna lend a hand or what?”

If he was anyone else, literally anyone else, you’d be outraged. No man should talk to a lady like that and insinuate that they have a responsibility over someone else’s bodily reactions. It’s backwards and uncouth!

But…

Toji Fushiguro is not anyone else. 

You know he’s joking; he doesn’t seem to have any qualms in making stupid jokes with you because he knows you write filthier things. He’s tested your boundary many times in the past couple days and you’ve grown accustomed to his humour. 

And even if he isn’t joking, you have no problems with taking the opportunity. 

You shouldn’t.

You just got broken up with the other day and it’s unwise to get personally involved with a person you write so frequently about. Bias must not be tolerated is your mantra. 

Yet, your thighs are pressed tightly together, your nipples are poking through your top and you know he can see them, and if you were to slide a hand between your legs, you’d likely find wetness that is unbecoming of a lady. 

Wait. 

Among hundreds of voicemails, didn’t you receive one about how a guys likes girls sitting on his lap so he could feel their pussy?

Can Toji feel your pussy clenching, moistening and fluttering on his thigh?

You tilt your head up with a panic and you’re aghast. He’s already looking down at you with a challenging raise of his brow and a smirk playing on his lip. He knows what you’re thinking and he sees the question in your eyes. 

Toji flexes his thigh in an answer, pressing it harder against you, and the friction is delectable. It leaves you reeling, hand clutching his chest for stability. His arms tighten around you, and he’s sitting up, no longer lazily lounging, but now drawing closer, muscles tense despite his calm expression. Green eyes flicker up and down your face, settling on your lips with a hunger you surely match. You’re entranced. He smells clean and fresh with a hint of something burnt, a maturity you want to explore. His scent is filling your head, washing away the smell of cheap liquor and weed. 

Then, a foghorn like whoop pierces the mist. 

Some guy had climbed the balcony and is threatening to jump into the empty pool. Everyone crowds around, laughing and cheering. 

The moment is lost between you and your new friend, but he doesn’t let you up. In fact, he isn’t even looking at the idiot — not like you are, thinking about piece you could write about party culture — but rather at his stupid roommate, who stands on the other balcony, leaning against the railing as he looks on at everyone in disgust. 

Perhaps it’s the sheer fact that they’ve been friends for a while, and so he knows Sukuna’s inclination for inciting violence and general nonsensical behaviour for his own sick satisfaction, that makes Toji so damn sure this is his doing. Or maybe it’s the fact that he knows his roommate has developed a fascination with pushing a certain someone’s buttons. 

And when his phone pings and he receives a text from his pink-haired teammate, he knows it’s both. 

If the fucker stains Gojo’s pool with his blood, you think he’ll complain to the Prez?

Toji doesn’t bother answering, he just pockets his phone again with a tsk. He’s totally gonna hide the guy’s car keys in retaliation later for ruining his moment. He was so close to getting a taste of a certain gossip columnist and the opportunity was gone and excusing herself to go inside for a blanket. 

When she disappears from sight, weaving through the crowd still egging the loser on, the captain groans into the sky, squeezing his throbbing cock to adjust it. It’s gonna be a long night, he thinks, but then smiles to himself when he notices your dumbass ex still glaring with as much hate as the little guy can muster, and he knows he saw the whole thing. 

Now, all he can think about is you returning as quickly as possible so he can pick up where he left off. He’s gonna push all three of you as far as possible tonight: the ex will know he’ll never be man enough for a woman like you and that’s why he couldn’t get you wet; you’ll learn to let go, trust the pleasure and embrace it; and Toji?

Well, Toji’s gonna learn that the quietest girls are usually the ones with the most to say. 

[district4loading]

"I Love You"

Twice Sana x Male Reader

4k words

Content Warning: smut, fluff, praise, oral, passion, lots of “i love you”

Minors DNI

A/N: Hey guys!! Had a hard time figuring out the title for this one lmao, don't judge too much. Also, Super grateful for the notes and support on my first fic so here's some fluffy lovey dovey sana x reader smut to contrast from the rough sex from the last fic. Enjoy!!!

-

"You already work so hard.. let me do the rest"

-

It was twelve in the morning when Sana finally got back home. Like always, she opened the door slowly and carefully with consideration for you who had been working all day. She assumed you were already in bed and she didn't want to wake you. So she stepped in and locked the door back before taking light steps to your shared bedroom.

Since it was dark she couldn't really see anything nor was she really paying attention to anything except her routine before bed. She wanted to take off her make up, take a shower then slip into bed with you holding her. That's it. She put her purse down on the dresser and took off her coat, hanging it in the walk in closet. She was careful not to make too much noise with the hangars.

Then Sana went into the bathroom, wincing as she turned the bright light on. She then tweaked the light as dim as it could go, hoping that it wasn't disturbing you much. When she got to the sink, she looked into the mirror, maybe taking a few photos because why not? Then she put her phone in her pocket and went into the cabinet to grab some wipes. She had to kneel down until the mirror was no longer in her view to grab the things she needed.

When Sana stood back up, she still wasn't too focused on the mirror with her head down as she tried to open the package of wipes. That is, until she noticed an unusual dark figure in her peripheral. Out of pure instinct, Sana's body jerked in fear, a cute scream escaping her lips at the same time. She turned around to see you just standing there with an amused look on your face. "Babe! You scared me, I thought you were sleeping" She tapped your arm.

"I only wanted to surprise you I didn't know you'd get scared" You leaned down and puckered your lips. Sana tilted her head back without any hesitation, a smile already appearing on her lips as she allowed them to connect with yours. It was a short, sweet peck, nothing too much. "You look incredible" You noticed, looking into her eyes which were a different bluish color because of the contacts she had in. Although you definitely loved Sana whichever way she was, you could never deny the butterflies in your belly whenever you saw her with makeup on.

"Thank you baby" Sana smiled before turning back around to pick up a wet wipe. You slid your arms around her waist and bent over to put your chin on her shoulder.

"How did things go? You know with the recording and whatnot" You asked as if you knew the logistics of anything that she was doing. You only knew the gist of things from what she's told you before.

Sana sighed, putting down the wipe before she grabbed a hair tie from the small drawer in the counter. "Things went really well this time, we finished up on time" She smiled, then passed the hair tie to you "Can you do it for me?" She asked. You nodded your head, stepping back before tying her hair back in a messy bun.

Then you reassumed your position behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist. You took a deep breath, taking in her natural scent mixed with her perfume. "You smell amazing..." You buried your head into her neck. Then you began to leave kisses there "You work so hard.." You mumbled against her skin, then your hands slipped under her top.

"Babe.." Sana whined in protest while ironically moving her head to give you more access, you hummed in response. "I have to take my makeup off" She complained weakly.

"No you don't, do it later" You whispered, making eye contact with Sana through the mirror. She looked so beautiful, the type of woman that could set your entire body on fire with just a glance. A smirk began to form on her lips as you squeezed her waist with your hands. Then you turned her body around so now she was facing you. "Have I told you how incredible you look?" You questioned the brunette.

Sana nodded her head "Yeah but I don't mind you saying it more" She licked her lips, a sheepish smile on her face as she looked up at you. You leaned down and connected your lips once more, leaving a sweet kiss on hers "Your lips taste..."

"Like lip gloss?" Sana smiled cleverly, trying to finish off your sentence for you.

You shook your head "mm-mm... delicious" You corrected her, removing your hands from her waist for a moment. You reached behind her head to take the hair tie out, letting her long brown locks fall over her shoulders and down her back. "You know I've always preferred you with your hair down" You smiled, acknowledging the little baby hairs that rested on her hairline.

The brunette squealed, startled by the sudden movement you made of lifting her by her waist to sit her on the bathroom counter. Sana giggled cutely afterwards, not even being able to say anything before you connected your lips again. This time it was more than just a short sweet kiss. The two of you were making out. Your hands never leaving her waist, her arms wrapped around your neck, your bodies as close as the position would allow you. Your lips moved in unison with each other, exploring the familiar and comforting confines of each other's mouths.

Soon, you began to deviate from Sana's mouth, kissing the corner, then her cheek, then along her perfect jawline all the way to her neck. She closed her eyes, biting her lip to stifle her moans as you began to lick and suck the exposed skin. Of course, she didn't have to tell you not to leave marks because she trusted that you knew better. But either way you still made it feel amazing, even if you couldn't be as harsh as you wanted.

Hearing Sana's breathing become more audible and feeling her chest heaving against yours, you could tell she was getting turned on. Just to be sure this was going where you wanted it to, you pulled away and looked into her eyes. You were searching for tiredness, acknowledging that she had just finished working and she could be too tired for all of this. But in your search, all you found was lust and need... the type of need that said that she'd been longing for this.

You took a moment to admire her entire face. It was a bright shade of pink, her lips parted, lipgloss smudged, looking up at you with those pleading eyes with her eyebrows curved upwards. Sana wrapped her legs around your waist tightly, forcing your bodies to come together and Instead of feeling stirring in your belly, this time the feeling was emerging in your pants. You reached your hand up and put a hand on her cheek then you moved your thumb, pressing it against her plump lips.

Without any words, she opened up for you, keeping eye contact as she took the digit into her mouth all slow and seductive. She wrapped her lips around the knuckle, then you felt her tongue swirl as she opened her mouth wide for you to see the show. Before she could get done, you pulled your thumb out of her mouth and put your hands back on her waist as you prepared to lift her, bending your knees for a second as you took her into your arms you heard her whine a bit. "I was hoping you'd fuck me on the counter" She said in that sexy pouty voice she knew you loved.

"mm-mm" You shook your head slightly as you walked the short distance out of the bathroom and into your bedroom to put her on the bed gently, climbing on top of her. "I'm not going to 'fuck' you, i'm going to make love to you" You whispered into her ear. Sana immediately got chills, whimpering as you kissed her neck a few more times. You pulled away and looked into her eyes again "I love you" You whispered.

"I love you too" Sana put her hands on your cheeks, completely cupping your face. You leaned down and kissed her lips a few times then pulled away again. Sana slid her hands to the back of your neck, interlocking her fingers before she whispered "Make love to me." It was more of a plea with the tone she said it in, her legs wrapped loosely around your waist.

No other words were needed from that point, you leaned upwards and pulled your T-shirt off. Then you tugged at the hem of her black top. Sana lifted herself off the bed, using only her core strength so you could pull the clothing over her head. Then you reached around her back to unlatch her bra, you did it in the first try and it became undone. You slipped them off of her arms and allowed her upper body to fall back on the bed again.

You then connected your lips, moving your mouth passionately and slowly against hers for a bit. Then you pulled away and grabbed the waistband of her sweatpants. Sana raised her hips and you pulled them off swiftly. You withdrew from her completely, standing up so you could pull down your pants as well. Then you got back onto the bed and between her legs where you belonged. "When was the last time we did this?" You breathed in, feeling the electricity between the both of you as you realized it's been long since you two had been intimate like this. It was mainly because of Sana's schedule but you didn't mind it too much.

"I'm sorry" She apologized, a guilty look on her face as she stared into your loving eyes.

"No No..." You kissed her lips once, then twice for good measure "It's your job, I completely understand. It's just been long, so I wanna savour the moment" You kissed her a third time, seeing a dark smile appear on her face when you pulled away. You leaned upwards, pulling her panties off without needing much help. Then you went back down, kissing Sana's neck again. This time she didn't try to stifle her moans, she just let every cute whine and whimper out, setting off fireworks inside of your body.

You kissed down to her collarbone, then her chest where you took her left nipple into your mouth first. You swirled your tongue around the bud, wetting it and sucking gently as you began to hear needy moans coming from the singer. Then you switched to her right nipple, doing the exact same thing until they were both hard. You leaned upwards, kneeling as you gently put your hands on either of her breasts. You squeezed softly, jiggling them and watching how they moved as if they were weightless.

Sana watched your every move silently, lips parted as she enjoyed the sight and feeling of you exploring her body. You tweaked the stiff nubs between your fingers, eliciting a high pitched squeal from the brunette. Then you leaned back down, continuing to kiss down her body. From her toned abdomen all the way to her inner thighs. You laid on your stomach as you positioned your head between her legs.

Propping herself up on her forearms, Sana was able to watch you. It was then you noticed that arousal coated her entire core. Your eyes darted up to meet hers "You're so wet" You announced redundantly, knowing that she of all people would know that information. You stuck your tongue out, maintaining eye contact as you made one long lick from her entrance all the way to her clit.

"Oh!" Sana gasped, biting her lip as she felt your warm, thick tongue come into contact with her flesh. The first taste of her slippery, salty sweetness was dizzying and so you licked more, trying to lap up as much of her arousal as you could. There was so much of it and somehow, that made you even more secure in your relationship. Just knowing that you could still have this effect on her, even after weeks with no sex, even after years of being together.

She let out cute moans, letting you know that you were doing well as you cleaned her up. You hadn't even really started yet and you noticed her hips moving upwards to meet your mouth. That's when you figured you'd actually begin. You specifically targeted her clit, swirling your tongue around the bundle of nerves. You knew it got her when she threw her head back and allowed her body to fall back onto the bed. Her hips raised again and Sana was grinding into your tongue.

You hummed, knowing she loved the vibrations that came with it which always drove her crazy. Sana was gripping the sheets, trying to cope with the pleasure as you kept moving your tongue. You never got tired and you always swore you could spend a lifetime between Sana's legs, just eating her out because she made for the best meal. "Baby..! Oh - Fuck, please don't stop" Sana begged, not knowing that you'd never even think of stopping until she was satisfied.

Sana's breathing became heavy and fast, her body quaking as she squirmed on your tongue. You knew exactly what to do at this point. You brought your fingers up, prodding her entrance with the two digits. Immediately you saw Sana raise her head, her eyes pleading for you to take her. So that's what you did. You slid both inside, a filthy squelching noise and a scream-like moan following it. After curling your fingers you began to pump them in and out, hearing beautiful loud moans coming from your girlfriend.

You always thought she was a great singer but that could never compare to the way she sounded when she was moaning. "Y/n.. please" She begged, not really knowing what for because she knew she could let go whenever she felt like it. "God i'm right fucking there" She warned you as you pressed your fingers up against her g-spot.

Humming "mm-hm" in response to her warning seemed to do the trick as you witnessed her go over the edge right then and there. Her legs began to tremble, back arching as you pumped your fingers in and out with the same rhythm, still swirling your tongue on her clit.

"I'm cumming" She squealed right before you began to feel her leaking all over your fingers, wetness spilling out of her cunt as you slid your fingers out. Sana's body was glowing red and covered in sweat at this point, her face was no different. With strands of her brown hair were stuck to her face she looked so beautiful.

You crawled up her body, beginning to feel an ache in your crotch as you kissed her lips once more. "I love you" You whispered, digging your hand into your boxers to pull your cock out. It was throbbing at this point, aching to be taken care of.

"I love you too" Sana mumbled against your skin "mmh- let me.." She said, trying to reach it after you pulled away to take your boxers off fully. Once they were off you took it into your hand.

"Lay back" You said it so softly, leaning over her with almost all of your weight. "You already work so hard.. let me do the rest" You muttered in that same tone. One that made Sana's face flush even redder.

She didn't say another word, just allowed you to continue. You took your cock into your hand then guided the tip to her entrance. Looking into her eyes once more to make sure, you could see that she was anticipating it. You slid in slowly and unusually, Sana didn't close her eyes. She winced a little, her eyes squinted some and her eyebrows turned upwards but she kept her eyes trained on you. The entire time.

You did the same of course, staring into her beautiful needy eyes as you handled her body with the utmost care. Once you made it to the hilt, you stayed there for a moment and allowed yourself to feel the tight and warm hug her pussy offered to you. She felt amazing, you took a breath before leaning down to kiss her lips again.

Then you came back up, keeping your balance as you grabbed both of sana's wrists and put them against the bed over her head. You held them together with both of your hands and then you began to move, pulling your hips back and gently sliding back inside. Sana's lips parted, letting out soft, pleasureful moans and so you began to roll your hips forwards and backwards in a rhythm.

Sana ended up breaking eye contact, her head turning to the side as she shut her eyes. Her face was sort of scrunched up as she continued to moan, beautiful noises that filled your ears. It didn't help that you could also hear the obscene squelching noises that came with each roll of your hips. It was all so dizzying, the pleasure, her reactions and the sounds she made.

"I need you closer" Sana murmured, her tone whiny and pleading. You let go of her wrists, letting your body lay on top of hers without stopping your thrusts. Your head fell into the crook of her neck, and Sana immediately wrapped her arms around you, her legs also tightening around your waist. "Thank you" she moaned it into your ear.

It was better like this, your bodies pressed together. Her mouth by your ear so you could clearly hear every little noise that escaped her lips. Your lips on her neck where you could kiss and suck on the flesh at your own free will. Sana's legs around your waist, which didn't make much room for flexibility in your movements but you didn't mind. Everything was enough and Sana was more than enough for you.

You closed your eyes, feeling the pleasure begin to overcome your entire body. Low groans bubbled in your throat as you became hotter and hotter. You began to hear Sana's moans get louder, more needy. If that didn't give it away then the clenching you felt inside definitely did. She was close, oh so close. It was hard to handle feeling your body humping into hers at such a slow and sensual pace. Feeling the vibrations of you groaning against her neck, having you so close... it was too much.

Taking this as a sign, you leaned up a bit, just so you could look into her eyes for this moment. You sped up your movements a bit and now there was a soft clapping sound that could be heard with each of your thrusts. "B-baby i'm-"

"Shh" You whispered, pinning her hands to the bed and interlocking her fingers with yours. You felt her squeeze back "Don't close your eyes" You asked softly watching as she struggled a bit to keep them open. Her body had been moving up and down gently from the force of your movements. She looked up into your eyes, a look of pure love and concentration on your face as you tried not to let go. You were also close but you wanted to let her cum first. "I love you" You whispered, leaving a short and sweet kiss on her lips.

Sana moaned a little bit louder, her legs squeezing your hips and her hands squeezing yours. "I love you" She responded right before her body began to tremble. Sana tried to keep her eyes open, she really did. But the second she froze and then her orgasm hit her, there was no hope. Yes her eyes were open, but her pupils seemed to roll into the back of her head so she couldn't see a thing. She also couldn't control it at all when her eyelids inevitably did slam shut. Gasping and shaking she finally came down from the orgasm, it was no doubt one of the best of her life.

She sighed, a small giggle escaping her lips right before she opened her eyes, looking at you with all the love in the world. "Thank you" She whispered and you just leaned down and kissed her, stopping your movements so you could focus on the kiss. It was so pure, so filled with love, so comfortable. You could've spent hours kissing her in that exact way, your tongues intertwining, your breaths synced up. It was all so intimate.

You pulled away and looked into her eyes for a moment. She slipped her hands out of your loosened grip and put them on either side of your face. She was cupping your cheeks now "You're so beautiful" You whispered, beginning to move your hips again. This time you were going at your own pace, the only one that felt right in the moment. You kept it slow as you admired her face. This was a woman you needed to take your time with, appreciate and shower with affection. "You feel so amazing" You sighed.

Sana had a smile on her face, one that spoke a million words. It told you just how much she loved you, the look in her eyes filled with adoration. Her legs tightened around your hips she could feel the way your cock twitched inside of her walls. You didn't fully notice it at the moment but just a few more strokes and you would climax. You didn't want this to end, it was too soon. But she just finished work, this didn't have to be any longer than it needed to be.

So you kept looking into her eyes "Sana..." You whispered "I'm going to"

Sana nodded her head eagerly, that same smile on her face. She looked so damn pretty. "Inside baby" She stated, still cupping your cheeks in her hands. You nodded, getting a final three strokes in before you finally erupted. Spewing thick globs of white into her hot entrance, she began subtly rubbing your cheeks as you orgasmed. You grunted and groaned with each hot spurt that came out having to close your eyes much like she did.

Soon you stopped and allowed your body to fall on top of hers. "I love you" You whispered, swallowing thickly as you caught your breath.

Sana caressed the back of your head, running her fingers through your short hair "I love you more than you could ever know"

[shoyoist]

── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 : VI.

content: 2k words ! fem reader, pit fighter!vi, fwb dynamic. this is obviously sapphic. vi tops and she has a strap, rough sεx, cunnilingus, spit, slapping (not on the face), usage of petnames like 'princess' and 'baby', a lil angsty and tense, mentions of sεx work, p<3rn with plot!!

— . ｡˚ ♡ turns out, vi needed a rebound too.

vi is rougher and quieter than usual tonight.

shedding her clothes and pulling on the strap you've left on the bedside table for her, she climbs wordlessly onto your creaky mattress to get to you. you've been laying in bed for hours, all dolled up for her, and she doesn't really even look at you— it makes your heart sink a little.

you wrap your arms around her anyway, allowing her to touch you, and with a soft sigh, she gives the swell of your chest a kiss, 'hello'.

the pallid light coming through your window outlines her body in pale blue, and her smell invades your senses as she leans into your body, pressing her weight on you. 

gripping the soft underside of your thighs harshly, digging her nails into your tender skin, she pushes your knees to your chest. "you missed me, princess?"

"mmm, i did." you're looking at her with the most innocent gaze you can muster, eyes wet and lips pouty, and she leans in to give them a kiss just like you want her to. her mouth tastes sour enough of sweat and cheap alcohol to make you wince— but when she pulls back, you feel a twinge of disappointment that it doesn't last long enough.

fresh out of a fight, she's still full of adrenaline — and wastes no time on foreplay. hooking your legs over those broad shoulders of hers, she spits onto your cunt and gets right to it. 

her eyes roll halfway back into her head as she slips the strap into your cunt, like she can feel the way your pussy grips it. throwing her head back, she moans hoarsely, in sync with the sweet whine that comes out of your mouth as she rolls her hips into yours, sliding the strap all the way in. "that's a good girl, fuck."

yes. you are a good girl. her good girl.

vi has been coming to you every night or so, for a few months now — and at first it was just a good deal of sex for you both. but lately, you've found yourself less interested in the sex she offers you, and more interested in the woman herself.

your room is dark, like it always is when she comes over, and the harsh pleasure she gives you always turns your mind cloudy — but nothing can sway the watchful gaze you fix onto vi whenever you're in her arms. through half-closed eyes, you count the nicks and bruises that line the base of her throat and her shoulders and arms. the scratches and cuts, redder because she's flushed, drunk and exerting herself.

twelve new marks since last time. you wonder if she won tonight's fight or if she lost. the way she fucks you doesn't make a difference, so you can't tell — what you do know is that she comes to you seeking an escape from frustrations that stem from something unrelated to the fights entirely. 

and whatever it is, it frustrates her a lot.

she seems especially bothered tonight. you try to hold onto her, nails scratching at her muscled back as you struggle to maintain your grip. her pace is dizzying, and her grip on your body doesn't get lighter. she fucks you nearly like she wants you dead. "vi, vi—"

"you're doin' good, baby." she hisses, eyes shut. "g'nna make you cum in a bit, kay? just let me see you take my strap first. pretty thing."

and you take it — like a good girl. how could you not? when she acts like she's ravenous about you? when, with how she puts those dead eyes and calloused hands and busted lips on you, she makes you feel something no one else ever has?

she looks so good, too — so hot, with the dark hair, the ashy streaks running down her face, the lipstick smudged down her bottom lip that's just slightly fuller than her top lip — and the muscles, god.

her tits aren't nearly big enough to hang in your face while she's on top, but they bounce a little with each snap of her hips, and the sight mesmerizes you. she laughs softly when your pussy squelches for her — and it makes your heart flutter. fuck. you might just be in love with this ghost of a woman. "vi, please."

"you like that?" she hums, landing a kiss on the side of your knee that leaves a bit of lipstick stained on your skin. "y'like it when i fuck you to bits?"

"mhm," you choke out, keeping your eyes on her so you don't miss it when she looks at you. "wanna cum, make me cum, please."

the strap slides out of you as smoothly as it slid in — and heat rises to your cheeks when vi stares at how your cunt clenches around nothing. "can't say no to you when you ask so nicely." she reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face, giving you that half-smile that makes your heart twist just as much as your gut.

"look at you." she lowers her face to your chest, lips tracing kisses downward. one hand comes up to squeeze at your tits, soft and sharp at the same time, index finger and thumb teasing your nipple and making you keen. "pretty, pretty thing."

she nudges your legs apart, getting comfortable between them. her other hand toys with your cunt, middle and ring finger slowly coaxing their way into your hole like she's learning to be gentle now. your body tenses with anticipation, feeling the way her lips get closer and closer to where you want them to go. "ngh. just—please."

the first flick of her tongue on your clit makes you gasp, body rocking in reaction— and vi slaps your thigh. "shhh," is all she says, but it makes you behave. she spreads your pussy open with her fingers like it's a flower, and takes you whole.

the wet sounds of a mouth on a cunt fill your shoddy little room, and you moan and shudder in vi's arms, caged in her hold as she draws the orgasm out of you.

and she does it so quickly, having learned what touches of her tongue your clit likes best, how you like having her fingers, when to add the extra tug to your nipples. she makes you go insane so easily.

like she took the time to figure out how to do it. like she cared enough to do that. like she might just l—

the white-hot rush of pleasure hits you, and all your thoughts dissipate. you grab vi's hair, digging your fingers into the dyed locks, keeping her face where you want it. "mmm, fuck, just like that—vi, just like that, please—"

she slaps your thigh again, but you relent only slightly. she licks up your slick, adjusting her position so she can fuck you better with her fingers, and you tremble under her as she curls her digits into your sweetest spots, wave after wave of bliss washing over you with each touch. the bed creaks like the weak boards under your mattress might snap, but you don't even hear it. "god."

once you're not shaking so much anymore, the high peaking and falling past, she comes up and kisses you — and you know your face and body are full of inky lipstick marks by now. it's almost romantic.

then, it's over.

vi pulls away, letting go of you and sitting up.

"ugh." you slump into the bed, hiding the pang of hurt that fills you. "you . . . don't want me to do you? or . . get you a drink?"

"not tonight. think i'm wasted enough." vi wipes her mouth off, stretching her neck to one side till there's a pop — and gets off the bed. you notice how her lips are entirely clean of the onyx that they were. "hey, you sure you don't want me to pay you?"

and there it is. the moment of intimacy dissolves like a grain of sugar into the vastness of the sea. it's home time.

"no, it's fine." you wave her off, turning away. you watch discreetly through your mirror as she looks around at the little box you live in.

"are you sure? . . i can cough something up." she asks again, and though you're slightly offended, you know what she means. your place is a single room that's barely a six by ten, small rickety bed and a desk with the mirror, a rack for the few clothes you own, and nothing else really. you share a bathroom and kitchen with two other girls across the street. and you have vi each night.

you need nothing else. "yeah, i'm good. and i don't do that anymore, anyway." you tell her.

"alright." vi pulls her clothes back on, and you're just a little sad to see her body covered away again. you did love getting your eyefuls of those slight curves and sleek muscles, and the tatts. "why'd you stop, though? working, i mean."

you think of how you used to feel, seeing clients and letting them fawn over you for the night. handing you a wad of cash and walking out at the end of it. back then, it was what you needed— but the moment you didn't need it anymore, you’d signed out.

you'd only agreed to hook up with vi because it seemed harmless enough. made your nights a little less lonelier, gave you some company. you hadn’t expected money or to catch feelings.

the answer to her question rises up your throat, but you find it a bit ironic — and you know vi is a good person. if she finds out that you're yearning for more than what's between you two at the moment, she may just see herself out of your life, so as to not hurt you. and you didn't want that. you wanted vi, even if it was only like this.

the real answer to her question rests at the base of your throat like an ache, throbbing a little along with the parts of your body vi had gripped a little too harshly. i didn't like to feel used.

but you shrug your shoulders and say, "well, i just didn't need it anymore."

vi doesn't answer, only turns to leave. "will you come tomorrow?" you ask, trying not to sound like you want her to come.

"probably." vi answers, out of the door already. "stay safe, princess." then she's gone, and you're alone again.

the dreary darkness of your room surrounds you once more, and you feel hot and sticky. ignoring the discomfort, you slump into your bed again, realizing how painfully little you know about vi. yes, she's jinx's older sister. yes, she's nothing like her. yes, she's beautiful — handsome; ghost-pale, dark red roots showing through the dyed black hair, sad eyes lit up with need.

you loved those nights when she would let you reciprocate and make her feel good. when she would ask for a drink or two. when she would ask to stay the night, and you'd let her sleep on your chest. she wrapped her arms around your body then, holding you both like she's protecting you and like she wants you to keep her safe. and you'd hold her, stroke her hair, and stay awake praying the morning comes late.

and then there are nights like tonight — where she's quieter and more distant. where she leaves too soon. like she's holding herself back. it infuriates you, almost. you want to ask her what she wants. you want to tell her what you want.

shifting your stare from the ceiling to your door that hangs ajar, you let out a heavy sigh. next time, maybe you'll ask her. maybe you'll tell her. maybe. if the surge of body-and-mind desperation to make the moment last long enough doesn't overthrow everything else, you will. but you know it'll be easier said than done.

vi melts you like shaved ice in the sun. she softens you, turns you sweet. you feel alive with those dead eyes, calloused hands and busted lips on you. being wanted by her gives you a sense of meaning. and you'll do anything if it means holding her a little longer. 

if that meant this, simply getting to be her good girl for a night and nothing more — then so be it.

a/n: part two, anyone? lmk if you want it, might turn this into a series :P💓

[no-144444]

playing favourites- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

part one | part two | part three | part four |

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It wasn’t exactly your plan to have a DNF on your first race but, thus the joys of a backmarker team. Zak had promised you, sworn even, that McLaren would be up there, fighting with Ferrari and RedBull. He’d told you that leaving RedBull would be worth it. Now, you were getting beaten by a fucking VCarb, the seat you could’ve had. You stalked over to Oscar once you got out of the car. 

“Care to fucking explain?” you scoffed. He looked at you, unimpressed. 

“It was an error with the steering wheel,” he shrugged. “Nothing you, or I, could’ve done.”

You sighed. “Of course not. Nothing anyone could’ve done, do you think the media will take that? Do you think this won’t mark my fucking career?! Oscar I need you to understand-” 

“Stop shouting at him, it wasn’t his fault,” Zak demanded. 

“Exactly, it’s yours. Make your car drivable,” you said before walking away. 

It was your reputation on the line, your career, your life. You’d worked to be in Formula One your entire life, you were the first woman in years. You didn’t have the option of  ‘just having a bad race’. You had to impress every single time, or else you’d be ridiculed. You knew what you’d see online tonight. You knew what people would say. You knew what questions you’d get from reporters. You knew it all. You’d done the song and dance a million times before, and you weren’t interested in doing it again. 

“SO, WHAT HAPPENED?” “YOUR FANS ARE DEMANDING ANSWERS?” “WAS THIS AN ACTUAL FAILURE OF THE CAR, OR JUST THE DRIVER?” “WHAT DID YOU SAY TO YOUR RACE ENGINEER AFTER?” “DO YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR RACE?” “WHAT DO YOU SAY ABOUT PEOPLE’S OPINIONS ON YOUR DRIVING AFTER TODAY?” “SHOULD YOU HAVE STAYED AT REDBULL?” 

“ARE YOU EVEN A GOOD DRIVER?”

Walking out of the media pen, you had your head hung low and a blank expression. Every single reporter wanted to talk to you. Every question was more and more degrading, and you just felt empty by the end of it. Megan, your press officer, left you in the hallway of the motorhome and you leant against it and sighed. 

You couldn’t keep doing this. 

In recent months you’d been questioning whether or not any of this was worth it. Every single weekend of your career had been a step towards gender equality, you were the poster-girl for being a good driver, but it was always just not enough. You’d left RedBull because of it. You realised they’d never give you a seat and just continue to use you as a diversity hire. It hurt though, that had been your home for years. You’d always been a RedBull driver, since you were in karting. The whole lead up to your first race was months and months of questions, everyone wondering if you could finally show everyone that women deserved seats in F1. 

And you’d just fucked it up. 

You hadn’t even noticed that you’d started crying until you felt them on your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away, but it wasn’t quick enough to fool Oscar. He frowned as he looked at you, walking towards you. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t fucking pity me,” you scoffed. “Come on, we have to debrief,” you said, walking into the boardroom. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Oscar, when am I pitting?” you shouted, hoping he would finally fucking answer you. 

“I’m not sure yet, give me a moment Y/n-”

“Y’know it’s really fucking impressive how we finally get in the points and now I’m getting fucking undercut because you’re not fucking ready Oscar, this is ridiculous!” you shouted. 

“Pitting next lap,” he said, neutral. It pissed you off how level-headed he was. 

“Fuck off,” you muttered. You pitted next lap. You finished the race in P11. 

Shit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Fuck!” you shouted at Oscar, getting out of the car. “This is such fucking bullshit.”

“Y/n-” he started.

“Just fuck off,’ you sighed, pushing his hand off your arm. “That would’ve been our best finish! P5?! And then Lando turns into me?!” 

He nodded. “Calm down,” he soothed. Your mood turned. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you ripped your arm back. 

Lando DNFed. You DNFed. Shit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

P15, another failure. At least you’d gotten higher than Lando, stuck down in P17. 5 races in and 0 points between the two of you? Fucking hell. You’d never scored so badly in your life. You walked over to the barrier, finding Oscar standing there. 

“Sorry,” you sighed. “We’re so fucking slow.”

He nodded. “We’ll keep working.” 

You nodded, but you felt that same nausea twisting your gut. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, somehow sensing it all. You shook your head. 

He stared at you a second longer, then took your answer, despite the way he sensed your lie. 

You two didn’t get along. He understood that. It didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of your insane diet and work out regimen. He was completely aware of the way you blame yourself despite the car being the only issue. He watched you work yourself to the bone. He almost wished you would be a bit more arrogant, like Lando, he wished it fell off your shoulders as easily as it did his. 

He couldn’t stand the media. The narrative they were pushing about you was ridiculous. You’d won every junior series, you’d waited your turn in RedBull, only to get kicked to the curb, you were good enough, but something told him you were starting to believe otherwise.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“So what’s the issue?” Zak sighed, pacing the garage, starting one of his famous pep talks. 

“Y/n,” a voice from the back muttered and everyone's heads snapped to you. It had been one of the mechanics who had preferred Carlos, but you just shrugged. A few chuckles were heard, one of them coming from Lando himself, and you just continued what you were doing, staring off into space. 

“It’s the car we built,” Zak answered his own question, trying to do damage control. 

“She’s not exactly Hamilton,” Lando said, a little bit too loud, as he joked with his engineer. 

“She’s consistently placed in front of you in the same car,” Oscar pointed out, his voice neutral. “The only reason she DNFed in Saudi Arabia was because you turned into her. Also, you haven’t gotten any points.”

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He chuckled, making the garage laugh. You rolled your eyes, getting up and walking off. “Is she fucking PMSing?” 

Oscar’s blood boiled at the way his co-workers laughed at that, at you. You didn’t deserve this shit from Lando, from anyone. Oscar went after you. He stopped right outside your driver’s room. 

“I don’t know what to do.

He heard your voice, thick with emotion. 

“You’re not working hard enough, look at Lando. You have to pay your dues here, it’s how McLaren works. Go for a run and clear your head.”

“I’m exhausted-”

“I’m not asking.” 

He stepped back, letting the door swing open. You stared back at him with wide eyes. “Run?” he offered.

“She should go on her own-”

“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged. 

You didn’t like Oscar, but it was better than going alone. 

“What’s Richards’s problem?” he asked as you two ran the streets of  Miami in the pitch black of the night. Richard was your trainer.

“He’s just a bit of a pushover,” you shrugged. “He’s making me better.”

“He’s making you train more, relax less, and eat less,” Oscar pointed out. “Is that better?” 

“So you’re a health expert now?” you scoffed. “The gaul of you, to always assume that you know better than someone just because you can. It is fucking insane how much of an ego everyone here has.”

“Maybe you should get one,” he scoffed. 

“An ego? No thanks.”

“No, a backbone,” Oscar said. “You can’t let Lando walk all over you, he’s without.”

“Without what?”

He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” you continued. “Explain.”

Oscar smirked. “Talent.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so strange.”

And off you went, running again. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

P4, finally a good result, finally a result worth all the struggle, all the shit, everything.

But no one was at the barricade. None of your mechanics, no Zak, no one. Not even Oscar. You looked like a fucking idiot. Lando had DNFed. They were busy with him. McLaren was such a fucking boys club, and you didn’t fit in. You shook your head as you searched the barricade, not one familiar face to be had. Bullshit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You walked back into the motorhome after all of your media duties, and you scoffed when they let out a half-hearted cheer. No celebration for you, only sympathy for Lanod, who crashed because of his own reckless driving, Lando who was totally fine, Lando. You pretended it didn’t hurt. You’d been congratulated by everyone else, every other driver, especially Danny, Liam, Yuki, Max, and Checo. They all gave you the biggest hug, told you how well you were doing, and celebrated you.  You wished you’d just stayed as their reserve driver. Maybe then you’d be something to someone. 

You stumbled into your driver’s room and found a note on your table, beside it, your favourite chocolate bar. 

Congratulations on your result, you deserve to be celebrated, but Lando sucks so we had to pretend that you aren’t incredible. I thought you’d enjoy something sweet, sorry we had to be the ones to leave the bitter taste in your mouth.

Osc. 

You stared down at it for a moment. Oscar knew your favourite chocolate bar. Oscar explained himself and apologised. Oscar was there for you, even if it was just in spirit. Oscar wanted to celebrate you. He wished he didn’t have to leave you alone, standing in Parc Fermé with no one to congratulate you. 

“Fuck you,” you said, to no one in particular. You were alone, as always. You crumbled up the note and threw it into the bin. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

When Oscar looked at his desk in MTC the next morning and found the same chocolate bar he’d spent 3 hours searching for, he frowned. McLaren was ruining you slowly. Your mental health was falling further and further away from ‘alright’, and he seemed to be the only one to notice it. He saw you out of the corner of his eye. “Y/n,” he called. “Come here.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to him. “What?”

“I don’t like these,” he shrugged. “You should take it, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like them either,” you shrugged. “Go give it to Lando, since you’re his bitch now too.”

“I-”

“I don’t fucking care about where your loyalty lies, Oscar, but don’t play both sides. You picked one in Imola, so stick with it,” you seethed, hitting the bar out of his hand. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[jungwnies]

INVITING YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND TO YOUR FAMILY THANKSGIVING

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : genre : fluff ୨ৎ : tws : light kissing, nothing heavy ୨ৎ : word count : 1862

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this one is for all my US babies who are celebrating thanksgiving today!!

ʚ・max verstappen

it was a week before thanksgiving and you got in your bed to see an already tired max laying down, as you get underneath the covers you lay against him and look at him, "baby."

he gives you a hum and look sat you, "yes?"

"i know you guys don't celebrate this holiday, but i really want you to come to the family dinner on thanksgiving, and i know you have practice on the 29th, so i could ask them to move the dinner a little early so you can come." you tell him, softly.

"you know i've never celebrated thanksgiving before?" he laughs before turning a bit to see your face, "if it’s important to you, i’ll be there. just don’t let me mess up your traditions, okay."

you laugh, "all it consists of is a turkey and some yams, but i mainly want you to come because my family will be there, and you know how much they love you."

“so, is this where you make me eat turkey until i can’t move? or are we going to do one of those cheesy gratitude speeches?” max teases, putting a smile on your face.

you shake your head, laughing softly. "maybe a little of both. but mostly, i just want you there with me."

max's teasing grin softens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "then i’m there. but i’m warning you now, if your uncle challenges me to some weird american football game, i’m going all in."

"oh, he will," you reply with a smirk, snuggling closer to him. "but i think you’ll be just fine. my mom already says you’re part of the family."

he wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer. "good. because i don’t plan on going anywhere."

with that, you drift off to sleep in his arms, excitement bubbling in your chest for the holiday—and for having max by your side.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you stand by the kitchen counter, watching lewis chop vegetables with surprising focus. “babe,” you say softly, leaning against the counter.

he glances up with a warm smile. “what’s up, love?”

you hesitate, toying with the edge of your sweater. “i was thinking... thanksgiving is next week, and it’s really important to me. i’d love for you to come to dinner with my family.”

he sets the knife down, giving you his full attention. “thanksgiving, huh? i’ve never done one of those before. what’s it like?”

“it’s mostly just food," you begin, thinking off all the components of a thanksgiving dinner, "turkey, stuffing, pie... oh, and my family asking you too many questions,” you laugh nervously. “but it’d mean a lot if you came. i know you’re busy, though, so no pressure.”

lewis steps closer, resting his hands lightly on your waist. “if it’s important to you, i’ll make time. i’d love to be with your family and see what this whole thanksgiving thing is about.”

you smile, relief washing over you. “really? even if it means answering endless questions about racing?”

he laughs, pulling you into a hug. “as long as they have some good food, i think i’ll survive.”

you snuggle into his chest, grinning. “trust me, my grandma’s sweet potato pie will make it worth it.”

he kisses the top of your head. “then i’m sold. just promise you’ll stick by me if someone starts grilling me about my cars.”

“deal, but i can't stop my dad from scolding you for speeding in your mercedes” you say, your heart full as you imagine lewis sitting at the dinner table, effortlessly charming your family.

ʚ・carlos sainz

you find carlos sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone while lazily petting your dog, a sight that makes your heart squeeze. you sit down next to him, tucking your legs under you.

"carlos," you say softly, nudging him with your knee.

he looks up with a small smile, his brown eyes warm. "qué pasa, cariño?" (what’s up, love?)

"so... thanksgiving is next week," you start, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. "and i was wondering if you’d come to dinner with my family."

he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s holding back a grin. "thanksgiving? the one with the turkey and... what do you call it? the cranberry... jelly?"

you laugh, shaking your head. "yeah, that one. but it’s not just about the food. it’s more like... being with family and saying what you’re thankful for. i know it’s not a spanish thing, but it’d mean a lot if you came."

he sets his phone down, fully turning to you. "sabes que soy terrible con estas cosas sentimentales, ¿verdad?" (you know i’m terrible at these sentimental things, right?) "i’ll probably say something dumb like ‘i’m thankful for ferrari.’"

"my dad would probably high-five you for that," you tease, leaning closer.

he chuckles, his hand sliding to your knee. "si tu padre está de acuerdo, ¿cómo puedo decir que no?" (if your dad’s on board, how can i say no?) "but only if you promise to save me from saying something embarrassing."

"deal," you say with a grin. "but you should know... my mom is going to love you. she’s been asking about you non-stop."

"ay dios," (oh god) he groans, leaning back dramatically. "what do i even say to impress an american family."

"just be yourself," you reply, resting your head on his shoulder. "trust me, you’ll charm her in five seconds flat."

he presses a kiss to the top of your head, a playful smile on his lips. "fine, but only if i bring some jamón ibérico, your family has to try real food."

you laugh, already picturing him at the table.

ʚ・charles leclerc

you find charles lounging on the couch, leo curled up at his feet. you sit beside him, nudging him gently.

"love," you say, a little shy.

he looks up with a smile. “quoi, mon amour?” (what, my love?)

you bite your lip, feeling nervous. "so... thanksgiving’s next week, and i know it’s not a thing in monaco, but i was wondering... would you come to dinner with my family? they’d really love to have you."

charles tilts his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “thanksgiving? with the turkey and... pumpkin pie?” he laughs softly, his accent making the words sound so sweet.

you nod. "yeah, that’s the one. it’s all about family, and it’d mean a lot to me if you came."

he sets his phone down, his smile softening. “mon amour, if it’s important to you, i’ll be there. i wouldn't miss it.” his voice is warm, sincere.

you grin, leaning in a little closer. "you sure you’re ready for my family’s chaos?"

he laughs, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “i think i can survive turkey... and maybe even your mom’s pumpkin pie." he pauses, his smile turning a bit mischievous. “but don’t be surprised if i say something cheesy in front of your family, like... ‘i’m thankful for the beautiful woman beside me.’”

your heart skips, and you chuckle. "oh, charles, you're going to melt my mom’s heart."

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "as long as i don’t have to speak perfect english, i’m good," he teases, making your heart swell.

you smile up at him. “you’ll charm them with that accent, i’m sure.”

“maybe i’ll speak more french just to make it worse for you,” he laughs, his hand gently squeezing yours.

you lean against him, feeling warm and happy. “they’re going to love you, charles.”

“as long as i get to be with you, mon amour,” he whispers, pulling you close.

ʚ・lando norris

you catch up with lando in the paddock, after a long day of practice. the energy is buzzing around you, and you decide to ask him something you've been thinking about all day.

"hey, babe," you say, trying to sound casual.

he glances at you with a grin. “what’s up, love? you look like you’re about to ask me for a big favor.”

you take a breath, then ask, "so, thanksgiving’s next week, and i know it’s not really your thing... but would you maybe want to come to my family’s dinner? it’d mean a lot to me."

lando raises an eyebrow. “thanksgiving? where you eat a ton of food and pretend you’re thankful for it? sounds like a lot of work.” he laughs, teasing. “you sure you want me there?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “it’s more than just food. it’s about family. i’d really love for you to be there.”

he looks at you for a moment, then smirks. “well, as long as there’s no awkward speech about what i’m thankful for, i’m in.”

“no speeches, i promise," you say, nudging him. "just food and a bit of small talk, and family games"

"perfect," he says, grinning. “i’m really looking forward to explaining how fast i go, and how many awkward questions i’ll get.”

“they’ll love you,” you assure him.

“as long as i’m not talking about racing the whole time,” he says with a wink. “deal?”

you smile, relieved. “deal.”

"good," he replies. "just don’t expect me to wear anything fancy. i’m more of a jeans and hoodie kind of guy.”

"that's fine, i prefer seeing you in something casual anyways." you tell him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

ʚ・oscar piastri

you find oscar lounging on your couch, casually scrolling through his phone. you sit next to him, feeling a bit nervous but determined.

"hey, oscar," you say, breaking the silence.

he looks up with a grin. “what’s up, love? you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

you take a breath and ask, “so, thanksgiving’s coming up, and i know it’s not really your thing, but... would you want to come to my family’s dinner? it’d really mean a lot to me.”

oscar raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “thanksgiving? so i get to eat a ridiculous amount of food, pretend i’m thankful for it, and survive your family’s questions? sounds like a good time.”

you chuckle. “yeah, that’s about the gist of it. but honestly, i really want you there. my family’s gonna love you.”

he leans back, pretending to think for a second. “alright, alright, i’m in. but only because you’re asking so sweetly. just don’t expect me to behave too much. and, for the record, i’ll definitely be expecting enough food to make up for all the small talk.”

you laugh. “no complaints about the food, i promise. but if you start making jokes about the turkey, i’ll disown you.”

“mate, making jokes about turkey is basically my job,” he grins. “but alright, i’ll be good. as long as i don’t have to wear a suit or anything fancy.”

“you’re safe,” you reassure him. “just dress nice enough to not scare anyone off.”

he leans in closer with a wink. “deal. let’s see if i can survive a night of turkey and awkward family banter without causing too much chaos.” he smirks. “should be fun.”

you smile, feeling a wave of warmth. “i’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[solarpunkpolliwog]

This was a really lovely read!!! Similar to Green Corridors, I also am a big fan of Greenways- I didn't realize I already knew what they were until I looked into them, but they are essentially the conversion of strips of city to help biodiversity conservation, improve city heat islands (as mentioned in the article), and improve the human experience of living in urban landscapes in a BIG way.

There are a number of historical precedents of people planning cities around nature and people, and the effects make a huge difference. The first time I came face to face with a world designed around those things, I was lucky and privileged enough to join an exchange program to Japan for 2 weeks. I lived with my exchange sibling and their family in Japan, and I got to travel around a lot because of it. The things you see in anime do largely apply to many areas of Tokyo- the city feels a lot more human centric. It's kind of stupidly easy to travel even far distances without a car. The train system is well designed and very punctual and frequent, which allows for a lot more flexibility with travel, and the shinkansen makes it so you can travel far distances so fast it's amazing!

And the cities are so easy to walk through- there's lots of nature, so many little back streets and shortcuts and architecture that feels like they were built for desire paths, and it made for a really fun time exploring and walking and even just finding places to sit and relax as if it was miles from the city in some cases.

Now there's plenty that's not perfect- I did struggle with accessibility in terms of frequent seating areas with chronic pain in really bustling city centers, and the panic of some of the highest density and pushy crowds in areas of the city like Shibuya and Harajuku were pretty bad for my overstimulation issues. But it gives us a glimpse at what amazing city designs could do if we built for preserving nature, and giving a good quality of life experience to anyone who engages with the city.

Back in the U.S. it was kind of startling how terribly our cities are built on the whole compared to this. I've been able to find a couple pockets, towns, and cities that do a pretty good job of these things, but the majority of places that I have ever visited in the United States are extremely inaccessible to things other than cars. Nature suffers, people suffer, and even businesses suffer in some cases.

But work is being done to improve things here though! I found The Rose Kennedy Greenway Park while making a stop on my Amtrak trip 2 years ago, and that was a lovely little highlight. I wanted to take a little wander before my next train, and I went to go on a journey to get some coffee and a mochi doughnut before I headed out, and passed through the Greenway on my walk. It's not like you could pretend you weren't in the city, but the Greenway used to be a TERRIBLE central artery running through Boston that was converted since they were dealing with so many traffic issues.

But now, converted into this park, it was a lovely little experience for me! There were a lot of local flora, little buggies (I heard that there are areas that even have full meadows and beehives for pollinator insects) and people were just sitting and relaxing, and I saw a lot of people walking in that area compared to other areas of the city that I've seen that are just not human friendly to be around.

My little city of Worcester is another sad example of what happens what you let cars and capitalism drive the design of our world. Black top buildings sprawl inefficiently and the city center is dead. Business fronts have been empty for years from driven up rental prices that landlords sit on hoping for a renaissance of big businesses to pay those prices, and no one walks because you would have to walk for ridiculously long times without shade, open businesses to wander into, trash cans, seating, and even sidewalk in some places before you can arrive.

Investing in good city design makes the world so much more beautiful, and I dream of a day where we more intensely invest in living in urban areas and making the experience human and nature-focused so that we can protect wider areas of untouched nature, be closer together, and pool our resources to support all of us no matter what our needs are <3

"With “green corridors” that mimic the natural forest, the Colombian city is driving down temperatures — and could become five degrees cooler over the next few decades.

In the face of a rapidly heating planet, the City of Eternal Spring — nicknamed so thanks to its year-round temperate climate — has found a way to keep its cool.

Previously, Medellín had undergone years of rapid urban expansion, which led to a severe urban heat island effect — raising temperatures in the city to significantly higher than in the surrounding suburban and rural areas. Roads and other concrete infrastructure absorb and maintain the sun’s heat for much longer than green infrastructure.

“Medellín grew at the expense of green spaces and vegetation,” says Pilar Vargas, a forest engineer working for City Hall. “We built and built and built. There wasn’t a lot of thought about the impact on the climate. It became obvious that had to change.”

Efforts began in 2016 under Medellín’s then mayor, Federico Gutiérrez (who, after completing one term in 2019, was re-elected at the end of 2023). The city launched a new approach to its urban development — one that focused on people and plants.

The $16.3 million initiative led to the creation of 30 Green Corridors along the city’s roads and waterways, improving or producing more than 70 hectares of green space, which includes 20 kilometers of shaded routes with cycle lanes and pedestrian paths.

These plant and tree-filled spaces — which connect all sorts of green areas such as the curb strips, squares, parks, vertical gardens, sidewalks, and even some of the seven hills that surround the city — produce fresh, cooling air in the face of urban heat. The corridors are also designed to mimic a natural forest with levels of low, medium and high plants, including native and tropical plants, bamboo grasses and palm trees.

Heat-trapping infrastructure like metro stations and bridges has also been greened as part of the project and government buildings have been adorned with green roofs and vertical gardens to beat the heat. The first of those was installed at Medellín’s City Hall, where nearly 100,000 plants and 12 species span the 1,810 square meter surface.

“It’s like urban acupuncture,” says Paula Zapata, advisor for Medellín at C40 Cities, a global network of about 100 of the world’s leading mayors. “The city is making these small interventions that together act to make a big impact.”

At the launch of the project, 120,000 individual plants and 12,500 trees were added to roads and parks across the city. By 2021, the figure had reached 2.5 million plants and 880,000 trees. Each has been carefully chosen to maximize their impact.

“The technical team thought a lot about the species used. They selected endemic ones that have a functional use,” explains Zapata.

The 72 species of plants and trees selected provide food for wildlife, help biodiversity to spread and fight air pollution. A study, for example, identified Mangifera indica as the best among six plant species found in Medellín at absorbing PM2.5 pollution — particulate matter that can cause asthma, bronchitis and heart disease — and surviving in polluted areas due to its “biochemical and biological mechanisms.”

And the urban planting continues to this day.

The groundwork is carried out by 150 citizen-gardeners like Pineda, who come from disadvantaged and minority backgrounds, with the support of 15 specialized forest engineers. Pineda is now the leader of a team of seven other gardeners who attend to corridors all across the city, shifting depending on the current priorities...

“I’m completely in favor of the corridors,” says [Victoria Perez, another citizen-gardener], who grew up in a poor suburb in the city of 2.5 million people. “It really improves the quality of life here.”

Wilmar Jesus, a 48-year-old Afro-Colombian farmer on his first day of the job, is pleased about the project’s possibilities for his own future. “I want to learn more and become better,” he says. “This gives me the opportunity to advance myself.”

The project’s wider impacts are like a breath of fresh air. Medellín’s temperatures fell by 2°C in the first three years of the program, and officials expect a further decrease of 4 to 5C over the next few decades, even taking into account climate change. In turn, City Hall says this will minimize the need for energy-intensive air conditioning...

In addition, the project has had a significant impact on air pollution. Between 2016 and 2019, the level of PM2.5 fell significantly, and in turn the city’s morbidity rate from acute respiratory infections decreased from 159.8 to 95.3 per 1,000 people [Note: That means the city's rate of people getting sick with lung/throat/respiratory infections.]

There’s also been a 34.6 percent rise in cycling in the city, likely due to the new bike paths built for the project, and biodiversity studies show that wildlife is coming back — one sample of five Green Corridors identified 30 different species of butterfly.

Other cities are already taking note. Bogotá and Barranquilla have adopted similar plans, among other Colombian cities, and last year São Paulo, Brazil, the largest city in South America, began expanding its corridors after launching them in 2022.

“For sure, Green Corridors could work in many other places,” says Zapata."

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, March 4, 2024

[artyandink]

topgirl

We’ve all seen Dean’s demon form dominating humans, BUT WHAT IF HE WAS TOPPED BY A DEMON?

“Sugar, c’mon.” Dean groaned, his head tipping back against the headboard. Ugh, this felt so emasculating, your back against his chest, covers up, book in your hand— oh yeah, and his cock nestled inside of your pussy, unable to move because you wouldn’t let him.

You gently slapped his thigh, instantly stilling him and not even batting an eye — externally — as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, absentmindedly flicking a page in your book. “Nope, baby, gotta stay still.”

Normally he’d be super smug when having a girl warm his cock, but right now he was frustrated, and mad, and god, it felt so good. Why did it feel so good doing this? Honestly, he got his rocks off on making girls scream and now this demon lady was making him feel like a fucking lamb.

“Fuckin’ hate you.” He murmured, eyes closing as he focused on how the walls of that pretty pussy were nestled around his cock at the right angle, the warmth making his stomach tingle and his nerve endings light on fire, his hands gripping your hips, feeling like a steel band and also a bomb ready to go off and make you scream with hard thrusts.

You raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly on purpose to elicit a groan from him, biting your lip to stifle a giggle— yeah, that really didn’t work out, you snickered anyway. “Awh, that’s cute, but we both know that ain’t true. You want this pussy.” Oh, yes, he did, and the way you purposefully squeezed him with your cunt only confirmed that.

A whimper escaped him. A whimper.

TAGLIST:

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

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@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz

@didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99

@autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

@cheynovak

special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts

@deansbite

[aleskie-hischier]

Best Friend | Lando Norris x Reader Summary: This is what it feels like to be in love with your best friend

Warnings: None :)) Just fluffy moments in your relationship with Lando!

“You promised not to laugh,” Lando said, pouting as you tried—and failed—to hide your grin behind your hand. The corners of your mouth betrayed you, threatening to give way to the laugh you were desperately holding back.

“I’m not laughing,” you managed to choke out, though your eyes told a very different story.

“You’re being mean,” he all but whines.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said, standing up from the bed and reaching to ruffle his curls, “It’s really not that bad.”

It was that bad. 

His haircut was…well, let’s just say the barber had done him no favors. The fade was patchy and uneven, and the length was so short it bordered on tragic. But despite the mess, he looked undeniably cute—though you weren’t about to let him off the hook without teasing him first.

“Now you’re just lying,” he muttered, his lips pursing as he entwined his fingers with yours.

“I’m not,” you insisted, cupping his face with your free hand, thumb brushing gently over his cheek. “Look, it’s easy to cover with a cap, and your helmet does all the work during races anyway. No one will even notice.”

“You noticed.”

“I live with you,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I see you every day.” Another kiss, this time on the other cheek. “I notice everything about you.”

A soft, breathy chuckle escaped him as he let his head rest on your shoulder. “Do you think I still look pretty?”

“You always look pretty,” you assured him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He pulled you closer, his embrace warm and comforting. “No barber could ever ruin that.”

A beat passed, then you added with a teasing smile, “But, for the record, your hair does look like shit, bubba.”

He laughed, the sound filling the room and lighting up your heart. You had a feeling his favorite cap was going to get a lot of mileage in the days ahead—or at least until he decided his hair was back to normal.

You were typing away on your laptop, racing against deadlines before the upcoming race weekend. Clearing your workload now meant you could fully enjoy cheering on your boyfriend as he gave it his all on home turf. Normally, staying focused was easy—especially with the promise of a weekend spent as his biggest cheerleader, a role you thoroughly loved.

But today? Today, your boyfriend was making it very difficult to get anything done.

“Lando,” you warned, your tone a mix of exasperation and amusement, “I swear, if you don’t let go, you’ll be at Silverstone alone.”

Lando was currently bent over, arms wrapped snugly around you as you worked at the dining table. Every so often, he would hum some random tune and sway side to side, forcing you to sway along with him.

“I thought you liked my hugs,” he teased, placing a kiss on the top of your head. You could practically feel the mischievous smile on his lips—he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I do like your hugs,” you said, shooting him a pout, “But only when they don’t mess with me while I’m working.”

He chuckled, planting another kiss to your hair, clearly pleased with his antics, before finally releasing you and plopping down in the chair next to yours.

“Oh! I’m free!” you exclaimed dramatically, throwing your arms up in mock surprise before sticking your tongue out at him. Without missing a beat, you turned back to your laptop, ready to dive back into work.

For a while, the room was peaceful. He sat quietly, scrolling through his phone, the occasional TikTok audio or soft giggle breaking the silence. It was nice—a balance between shared space and focus.

And then he got bored. 

You could feel it before you saw it. The subtle shift in his energy, the way his chair creaked as he stood, the deliberate slowness of his steps. You didn’t look up, hoping he’d wander off to his game room or find something else to occupy himself.

But, of course, that wasn’t what was going to happen.

He stopped behind you, standing there silently as if planning his next move. You kept typing, pretending not to notice, but your fingers hesitated when he suddenly dragged your chair back from the table.

“Lando, wha—!” You gasped, only for him to scoop you up, lifting you into his arms.

“Hey!” you protested, half-laughing, as he carried you bridal style to the couch. He plopped you down gently before settling himself on top of you, his head resting right over your heart.

With his weight anchoring you and his arms snug around your waist, your laptop—and your deadlines—were officially forgotten.

 You let out a soft sigh, your hands instinctively beginning to draw lazy circles on his back. “You’re so lucky I tolerate you,” you teased, your tone light but affectionate.

“You love me, actually,” he countered, his voice muffled against your shirt. You could feel his lips curve into a smug smile.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you replied, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see.

Undeterred, he nuzzled deeper into you, his curls tickling your chin. “You do,” he insisted, his words vibrating through your chest.

You chuckled, the warmth of his presence making it impossible to argue. “I do. I really do.”

“We’ve seen that movie a million times. We need to watch something else,” Lando groaned, leaning back against the couch cushions.

“But, Lando! It’s Mean Girls! You can never get enough Mean Girls!” you shot back, clutching the remote dramatically.

“You can,” he insisted, his eyes narrowing at you with a mix of exasperation and fondness. “Especially when we’ve watched it like a million times. Every single movie night, love. Every. Single. One. For the last two months.”

“It’s a great movie,” you mumbled, pouting.

Lando rolled his eyes, though the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. He slid closer from his side of the couch, his hand brushing yours. “It is a good movie,” he admitted, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “But I swear, I can recite it line by line at this point.”

His lips found yours for a brief, teasing kiss before he added, “Besides, we need to watch new films. Preferably ones that don’t inspire you to cut holes in my tank tops so I, quote, ‘look like Regina George.’”

You pouted, pursing your lips dramatically. “They’re a timeless fashion statement.”

“Timeless, my ass,” he laughed, shaking his head as his hand lingered on yours, “But fine. One last time, okay? After this, we’re expanding your movie taste.”

“Deal,” you said with a grin, snuggling into his side as the opening credits rolled.

The two of you fell into an easy silence, the flickering glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room. As the movie played, Lando’s hand traced absentminded shapes along your arm, and your head rested comfortably on his shoulder.

Midway through, his voice broke the quiet. “When we’re old and gray,” he murmured, his tone soft, “And we’re still arguing about what to watch, you better have more suggestions than just Mean Girls.”

You chuckled, cuddling closer to him. But the movie wasn’t holding your attention anymore. Instead, your thoughts wandered to the idea of growing old together.

You imagined those future arguments, the two of you bickering playfully in the living room of a house that had become a home. He’d probably still let you win, just like he always did, and you’d end up asleep together on the couch halfway through whatever you’d picked. 

You pictured racing each other down the stairs, canes in hand, laughter filling halls lined with photos of your children and grandchildren. You saw the teasing, the banter, the moments when he’d drive you up the wall—only to have you laughing seconds later. And no matter what, you’d always go to bed holding each other’s hand.

“I’m glad I fell in love with you,” you murmured as the ending credits rolled. Lando stretched, shifting to shake off the stiffness of sitting on the couch for so long.

“Oh yeah?” He glanced down at you with a playful smirk. “What makes you say that?”

You leaned closer, resting your head against his chest. His warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat felt like home. “Life would be so boring without you,” you said softly.

He chuckled, his arms lazily draping around you. “Well, I am pretty fun.”

“But also…” Your gaze flicked up to his face, taking a moment to admire the myriad of colors in his eyes. “You’re my best friend.”

His lips twitched into a grin. “Don’t let Max hear you say that, love. He might have a lot to say about you claiming his title.”

You scoffed, pulling away with mock indignation as he laughed. “Never mind. I take it all back,” you teased, standing to make your way to the kitchen for a snack.

But before you could take a step, Lando caught your wrist and tugged you back. You landed with a soft laugh in his lap, his arms wrapping securely around you from behind. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending a gentle shiver down your spine, before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I don’t think I could’ve fallen this hard for anyone else,” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity, “There’s no one else I’d rather love than you.”

You could feel his smile against your skin, and it made your heart swell.

“You’re my best friend, too,” he added, his words wrapping around you like a soft blanket.

You turned slightly to look at him, your smirk returning. “Don’t tell Fewtrell that. He might get sad.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, filling the quiet of your apartment. The dim glow of the apartment lights cast long shadows, but neither of you paid them any mind. All that mattered was the comfort of being together, blanketed in a world that was just yours.

Silently, as you laid in his arms, you wished that things would never change.

[frayedcobweb]

My friend from South Africa posted a video of Tui (a native bird of NZ), gushing about how she they are one of her Bucket List Birds lol. This really cracked me up as there are so many around my house I sometimes see 20 in a tree at the same time. I often narrowly avoid being nutted (hit in the head) by one flying at top speed between our house and garage. Their warbling, clonking, liquid, creaky songs fill my days. These birds are as common as sparrows to me... And yet now I see them in a different light.

The video below is the tui :)

Sometimes I see some variety of North American Little Guy (opossum, raccoon, etc. ) and I’m like “okay”

BUT THEN I start thinking about how excited somebody from not-North-America would be to see this Guy. Like, would an Australian be excited to see the only marsupial not from their country? Are there raccoons in zoos on the other side of the world that are regarded as unique and exotic creatures? Idk but it’s made me more excited to see Guys in my area.

[emchante]

OH another idea: cooking stream w max 😉 he’s wearing an apron with smt like “kiss the cook” but shirtless underneath, accidentally smearing sauce on his fingers and licking them clean, turning around to grab something from the cupboard and just showing off his back.. god i can go on and on about this

kiss the cock cook | m. verstappen

warnings: 18+/suggestive — minors dni.

DIIII OH MY GOD. you’re such a genius, your brain works in magical ways and i want to have it myself!!! the first post for this series went down well, so here you all go!!<3<3

one of the first few softcore porn streamer! max streams catch is a cooking stream. you know what his channel is now, after your first endeavour. you shouldn’t be surprised at what you see on the screen.

yet, you still are.

as soon as the ads finish rolling, the stream pops up on the screen. max is shirtless, under a dark apron. ‘kiss the cock’ is what’s written on it, but cock is scribbled off with a messy ‘cook’ above it. the apron allowed part of his soft chest to be on display. your eyes trailed down to see the apron wrapping around his soft hips perfectly, as the knot at the back held the apron together as tight as possible.

the camera angle was perfect— allowing you to see most of his top half, while leaving the rest to your imagination.

max knew his audience well, so he had an extra camera set up in the kitchen. it was a birds-eye view camera, a little box in the top right corner of the stream that was titled ‘hand cam’, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why it was there.

he was glancing at the chat as he put the ingredients for his cake in the large bowl. he smirked at some of the comments. “yes, i’m shirtless. no, i’m not trying to seduce you. my kitchen is hot, okay?” he tells the stream, acting innocent. if you really couldn’t tell though, the wink he gave the camera afterwards sold it.

he pondered for a moment before grabbing the camera above him, and moving it on the counter next to his bowl. “much better,” he muttered, before spreading his large hand across the bowl, as if to secure it. his other hand had an electric whisk, and he began to mix the ingredients together.

as he whisked, he glanced to the chat to see their reaction. he licked his lips before smirking, reading the comments as they came through. “i need him carnally.. this should be illegal..” he reads some, causing the influx of comments to worsen as they all try to be noticed by him. “max please.. please what, dear viewer? i need you to use your words for me,” he purrs, looking innocently into the camera.

the look he gives the camera sends a heat in your stomach. your thighs instinctively squeeze together at the sight, and your thoughts start racing. imagining him looking up at you like that, as you place yourself on his thighs. hands on his soft chest, pushing him down and telling him to use his words, finally switching the roles for once. how he’d deliciously beg and plead for you to—

fuck. what were you doing? you should not have been captivated so fast by him, but yet..

“anyways, i think that should be it mixed now,” max interrupts your internal conflict with his own words, turning off the whisk. he reaches out of from, and brings back another bowl. he tilts them both towards the camera to show the contents— cake batter in one, and thin icing in the other.

he eyes chat momentarily, smiling when the influx of ‘taste it!’ messages come flooding in. “you’re right, you’re right! i should taste it. how would i know if i liked what i made so far otherwise?” he questions, his index finger reaching into the first bowl.

he takes a scoop of the cake batter that looks entirely too appealing when it’s smeared along max’s finger. he slowly sucks it clean, pouty lips smacking gently when they touch again. his eyes flutter shut as a soft moan escapes from max, head tilting back.

“that is so fucking good, if only you guys could taste it,” he mumbles, licking any of the excess off of his lips as he reads the chat.

the heat in your belly was growing, the way he looked and the sounds he let out were amazing, and you needed more. you hadn’t chatted much in max’s chat, sending a few messages here and there. but tonight, you felt different. you needed more, and you were going to get it.

swallowing thickly you moved your hands to your keyboard, thinking about what you should type. your eyes scanned the screen.. and bingo. you knew what to do.

‘well you tried the batter, but what about the icing? just to be sure’

max is still reading over the chat when you send your message, and your heart skips a beat when you see his eyes widen. he stands up straight, looking into the camera with a small smirk.

“that’s a great idea, actually,” he praises, adding your username onto the end before he pulls the bowl of icing closer to him.

the icing was thin and white, from what you had seen when he showed the cameras. you watched as he plunged his index and middle finger into the bowl, pushing them right in before pulling them back out. the gooey icing dripped from the tip of his fingers, and had coated a thin layer over the rest of it.

he lifted his fingers to his mouth, stretching them to a ‘v’ shape as he licked through the middle of them. your cheeks flushed at the innuendo, and his chat clearly felt affected by it too judging by the spam. afterwards, he stared deep into the camera before pushing his fingers together, running his tongue along them in stripes to lick them clean.

his hand fell back to the counter as he swallowed thickly, before a low groan came from his throat. “fuck— that icing is amazing,” he starts, head lightly tilting back. “it’s perfectly sweet,” he adds, licking his lips clean as he reads the chat.

your heart was still racing at the look he was giving the camera, as well as the fact he had done as your message had said. your luck on his streams was unbelievable.. maybe you should start chatting more.

after that, max had went back to preparing the cupcakes in their cases that were sat in the tray. you had zoned out admittedly, not from the stream itself, just.. the baking aspect. you were more so focused on his large arms, watching them flex as he consistently moved around. your eyes were also glued to his chest, especially when he leaned over to read something from the book. the apron hung low as he did so, giving you a deeper look into his soft chest.

it didn’t take long for your attention to be peaked again, as max clapped his hands together, stating he was getting them ready for the oven.

“so, i have already preheated the oven,” he began to explain as he leaned over to his computer, messing about on obs. he stopped talking as he fixed what he needed to, and the next minute the main camera angle had switched— now, instead of the camera on the tripod, the main camera was the one on the counter initially used as the hand cam. now though, it was sat so it faced the right side of the kitchen, which included the oven.

“so no need to wait for that,” he finally finished, looking into the camera and giving it a smile before he stood up straight, grabbing the tray. he turned around and walked towards the oven slowly, as if he knew what he was doing.

max’s chat— and your internal thoughts— went back to their thirsting ways as max’s defined, toned back was on display. the comments honestly could’ve came from your mind, as they were along the same lines. ‘i need to scratch down his back’, ‘that back is looking a little bare.. let me fix that’, just to name a couple.

max stopped in his tracks, doing a 180 and walking back towards the counter. “oops, i forgot how long to put them in for,” he muttered, a small smile on his face that gave away his lies. it was obvious what he was doing, he simply just wanted to see the thirsty reactions. and god, did he get them.

“glad you’re all enjoying the view today,” he speaks up, turning back towards the oven and walking towards it, giving the fans what they wanted. then, he bent down towards the oven, giving the camera a perfect view of his curvy ass as he placed the tray in the oven. as he pulled the oven door back down, he pushed himself out further as a tease for the camera, before standing up straight again.

“it’s free today, you know,” he continues, referring to his last comment about the view. “but tomorrow? who knows,” he sighs, eyes scanning his chat as they burst into desperate pleads for him to keep slutting himself out for free.

max had decided to cut the stream off for a break while the cupcakes baked in the oven. he leaned against the counter, arms in front of him causing his chest to push together and you couldn’t keep your eyes off it.

“i’ll be back later, don’t you worry about that,” he reassures any worrying viewers with a wink. “thank you for joining, everyone. i’d say don’t forget to kiss the cook— but none of you can,” he pouted, before blowing you a kiss. “least you could do is send me a sub,” he adds cheekily, standing up straight. he begins to untie the knot from the back of the apron, causing the apron’s strings to drop to the side.

your eyes widened as he began to slowly lift the apron off of himself, allowing the viewers to see his soft body on display. his chat went crazy— from comments about grabbing his love handles, to marking his chest, to wanting to explore that happy trail— everyone enjoyed the view.

conveniently the countertop covered his boxers, therefore nobody could see there or below.

“i’ll be back later for you all, hopefully ready to show my cupcakes,” he smiles, reading the chat one last time.

‘what about your cake, max?’ is the last message he reads, causing him to burst out laughing.

“if we reach the big sub goal, maybe something can be arranged,” he teases, before the stream abruptly cuts off.

⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? i hope you did! please come chat to me about it in my ask box! publicly or on anon— i’ll answer everything <3

[willowpains]

Hiii can u maybe do something like Drew surprising Latina actress! Reader to her home town and him meeting her family? 💕

méxico lindo

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

“Mami, ¿porque mi puerta está-(Mom, why is my door-)” you stopped yourself from shouting to your mom as you opened the door to your room, revealing Drew, your boyfriend, with a bouquet of flowers and a huge smile on his face.

Your hands flew to your mouth in surprise, as you gasped, truly in shock.

Drew had just called you this morning, telling you how much he missed you, and how busy he was with doing press for Queer, his new movie.

How was he here, with you, in your bedroom?

“Hi baby” he said laughing softly, looking at you with small eyes due to his big smile almost covering his entire face.

You slowly drop your hands from your mouth, still in shock, as you watch him approach.

With eyes moving between him and the flowers in front of him, you accept them, slightly shaking as he engulfs you in a hug.

He chuckles as he presses a soft kiss at the top of your head.

You lean back a little, enough to be able to look at him, the shock and surprise slowly dying, making room for the excitement and happiness of having him in front of you.

“Que, como…(What, how…)” you barely let out, your brain not even allowing you to speak in English to him.

Drew lets out a chuckle throwing his head back at your reaction, capturing your lips in a deep kiss before explaining.

“I’m glad you were really surprised” he says as you walk to your dresser to place the flowers, and walking back to him just to jump into his arms.

He sighs in content as he catches you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he walks you both to your bed, sitting down with you on his lap.

“I still can’t believe you’re here” you said with a smile, your eyes gleaming up at him. “You lied to me, you said you were doing press!” you playfully hit him on the chest.

A laugh escapes of him, as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you.

“I have a few free days until the next round of press interviews” he explains, resting his hand on your leg. “And I missed you too much”.

You smile at him, reaching up to cradle his cheek as you press a kiss against his lips.

“I’m really happy you’re here” you say, breaking the kiss to look at him, softly caressing his cheek with your thumb.

He smiles, looking between your eyes and your lips.

“Me too” he lets out softly.

Your heart flutters as his eyes wander on your lips for a little longer.

“Was my mom behind all of this with you?” you ask, raising your brows up at him, as you throw your arms behind his neck, pulling him closer.

He chuckles, caressing your side.

“You know she loves me” he smirks playfully.

You push him fully on the bed until he falls back, smiling mischievously up at you.

“Oh yes, I know” you said as you leaned down, smiling dangerously at him.

Safe to say that was one of the best surprises he’s ever given you.

Drew had met your family back when you were filming season one.

Him and Madelyn had traveled with you to enjoy home for the few days of break you had.

And your family had absolutely loved him.

Your mom specifically.

Even when you still were just friends, she already treated him as if he was part of the family already.

And she never lets your forget how she always “felt” how you two were meant to be together.

Her instincts were always right, you had to give it to her.

“Ay Drew!” your mom shouts, standing up from the couch in excitement as she sees him, opening her arms ready to embrace him.

You giggle softly as he crouches down to hug your mom back.

“It’s nice to see you all again” he says, moving to greet your dad, who is happy to see him, but not as much as your mom.

Your dad shakes his hand after giving him a hug.

“Es bueno verte hijo (Is good to see you son)” he says as he pats him on the back.

A smile appears on your face as you hear your dad’s words.

He loved speaking spanish to him, he liked to feel a little in control with your boyfriend.

“Hey Drew” your younger brother lets out, walking out of the kitchen and greeting him happily.

They both get into a conversation about a video game Drew had recommended him, making you smile.

Your mom walks up to you, taking you in her arms, giving you a hug.

“You liked the surprise?” she asks, smiling brightly at you.

You nod happily, giving her a kiss on the cheek, making an exaggerated kiss sound.

“I loved it, thank you so much mami, I’m really happy” you say, giving her another hug.

She sighs, leaving a kiss on your temple, and leaning her head against yours.

The both of you watch Drew and your dad talking, while your brother listens attentively.

“Me encanta verte feliz mi niña (I love seeing you happy my girl)” she says, as she squeezes you a little between her arms.

You smile at her words.

“Sin presiones (No pressure)” she pauses, looking down at you. “Pero yo siento que el es el bueno (But I feel like he’s the one)” she lets out with a smile.

Your heart starts pounding harder in your chest at her words.

You had thought about that many times.

Him being it for you.

“Eso espero (I hope so)” you murmur, your eyes lost watching Drew smiling and laughing in your couch, with your family, in your space.

Being part of your life.

In your mind, you were already planning everything you were going to be doing while he visited.

All the new spots you had to show him, experiences you wanted to share, and all the time you would be spending together.

A smile appeared on your face.

Your family meant the world to you.

As well as Drew.

What would you do without them?

You were really grateful your family liked him.

Loved him, just as much as you did.

Because it just felt right every time you were all together.

He fitted right in, like he was always supposed to be part of you all.

And you couldn’t be more happy.

*

thank you so much for you request! I absolutely loved the ideaaa, and I hope you liked it<3

already working on a moodboard for this concept, I’m obsessed

I feel like I might start writing little blurbs and short concepts with different ideas, sometimes I feel like it needs to be this huge story for people to get into it, but short blurbs are also fun right?

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

January 1986

Steve sighed as he stepped out into the late January air. He loved visiting the quarry at this time of year, especially when he parents strolled into town. He took in the view with a smile. God, it really was beautiful. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought so. He spotted Eddie Munson's van parked not too far away. He recognized it from all the times he picked Dustin up from Hellfire. The side door was wide open. Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and decided that he should go say hello. Dustin wanted them both to get to know each other, and he insisted that he had nothing to be jealous about.

"Hello? Munson?" Steve asked and peered into the van. "Eddie?"

That's when he heard it. Someone screaming. His instincts immediately kicked in, and he ran towards the sound. Steve reached the edge of the quarry and saw Eddie clinging to a ledge.

"Oh my god! What are you doing?!" Steve exclaimed.

"Well, gee, Harrington, I thought I'd get a better view - I fucking fell!" Eddie shrieked.

"Grab my hand!" Steve yelled.

Steve laid on his stomach and threw his arm down. Eddie didn't waste a second and grabbed his hand. Steve secured himself and started pulling Eddie up, but it was awkward. Steve groaned as he tried to pull him up.

"Okay! You know what? Just let me go, man, I can swim!" Eddie yelled.

"At this height, that water turns into concrete, and then you turn into mashed potatoes!" Steve exclaimed.

"You just had to put that image into my head!" Eddie shrieked. "You're fucking with me!"

"Yeah, that's right! I want to be known as the person who saved Eddie Munson's life!" Steve yelled.

"With all that hero hair, I bet you do!" Eddie yelled.

"You're so fucking - "

He was infuriating, and with that, Steve managed to find something inside of him to pull Eddie up. They stumbled backward, Eddie falling into his arms. Eddie clung to him, pressing his face into his shoulder and breathing him in.

"What were you about to say?" Eddie gasped.

"I was going to say that you were so fucking annoying," Steve said. "So annoying that I managed to use that to yank you up."

"So, what you're saying is that I saved my life," Eddie said. "I knew I could do it."

Steve laughed and loosened his grip. Suddenly, Eddie squeezed on tighter with a loud squeak.

"Eddie?"

"Don't let me go," he whimpered.

"Yeah, okay, I got you," he said softly and pressed his cheek to the top of his head, stroking hair hair gently.

"I just came out here because. . .I'm afraid of heights," Eddie said. "And I thought that I could just get over it by coming and putting my feet over the edge. It was so dumb. No one else knows about it. . .well, except you."

"Any other fears I should know about?" Steve asked.

"Ducks. You better not fucking tell anyone," Eddie said. "It's bad enough that Jeff mocks me for it, and now Dustin."

"I don't blame you. They look like freaky looking dinosaurs," Steve said. "I mean, I'm not afraid of them, but I totally get it."

"You're the only who does," Eddie said, letting out a dry sob. "You smell nice, by the way."

Eddie got up off of Steve and helped him up. He started dusting the gravel out of Steve’s hair before working his way down to dust off his back and then. . .

"Eddie, that's my ass! You're basically smacking my ass," Steve said, blushing.

"I'm just trying to be as helpful as you were with me," Eddie said and then scowled. "How the hell is this thing so bouncy?"

"Okay!" Steve said whirling around.

"Your cheeks are pink, you as cold as I am?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. I got a blanket and a thermos of hot chocolate in my car," Steve said. "You want some?"

"It's kismet! I actually got space in the back of my van for once," Eddie said.

Steve grabbed the thermos and the blanket. He crawled into the back with Eddie and threw the blanket over the both of them. They leaned back against the wall of the van, facing the open door. He poured some hot chocolate for Eddie.

"I make it myself," Steve said.

"Goddamn, this is good!" Eddie grinned. "You really like it with extra chocolate."

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"Hmm, me, too," Eddie said. "What else is in here?"

"Can't tell you, it's my secret," he said.

"I nearly died, and you can't tell me your secret ingredient?!" He asked in disbelief.

"No!" Steve laughed as Eddie invaded his space. "You don't know what boundaries are, do you?"

"You tell me to back off, and I will," Eddie replied.

"It's fine," he blushed.

"I seriously want to think you for saving my life, Steve," Eddie said as he sipped his hot chocolate. "I never wanted to believe that someone like you could be such a good dude."

"I'm sorry," Steve said.

"For what?" He asked.

"That jocks like me have put you through so much hell that that it's made you believe so poorly in the sport," Steve said.

"Well, I suppose it happens with every group. I mean, most people think all metalheads are satanic and evil," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

"When really they're all a bunch of teddy bears," Steve smirked.

"Shut up," Eddie said. "I suppose we all make assumptions."

"Well, Dustin was right about you. You're a great guy," Steve said.

"Not that I care about what little shrimp thinks," Eddie scoffs, blushing. "Besides, he totally worships you."

"He does?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, I was super jealous as hell, by the way," he said.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said.

"What brings you out here?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, uh, my parents are actually home for once," Steve said.

"You don't like them, or they don't like you?" Eddie asked.

"I don't like them because they don't like me," Steve replied.

"Damn."

"Yeah. . .my dad is still ragging on me to join him at his company selling insurance, but I do not want to do that," Steve said. "On top of that, they're trying to pick out the girl they want me to marry."

"Jesus," Eddie said. "They can't do that, can they?"

"Well, they have the power to make me homeless, which they have brought up several times," Steve said.

"They're threatening you?! Yeah, I can see why you want to hide from them," Eddie said. "Why are they trying to force you to marry a girl?"

"It's complicated," he said.

"Oh, come on, I saved your life, you owe me," Eddie teased.

"Uh, that's the other way around, asshole," Steve said and laughed.

"You don't have to say anything, man, if you don't want to," Eddie said.

"They walked in on my fucking my now ex-boyfriend. . .who ended things, but apparently I wasn't worth it," Steve said. "So, now they're trying to cover up the fact that their precious boy isn't a freak."

"Jesus, okay, yeah, your parents are fucked in the head. You can't help being gay," Eddie said.

"Bisexual, actually," Steve said.

"Okay, context clues. . .judging by the fact that bi means more than one and sexual means - okay, yeah, okay, I got it, don't explain it to me," Eddie said, and Steve giggled. "You got anywhere else to go? Like people who actually care."

"I mean, yeah, but - "

"If they truly care about you, you're never a burden, no matter how much you mess up," Eddie said. "It took me a long time to realize that with Uncle Wayne."

"Yeah, I got a few people," he blushed.

"Good," Eddie said.

"So, how often do you need saving from yourself?" Steve asked. "Is it a regular occurence?"

"Wayne would tell you that, yes, I can barely get out of the trailer without tripping over my own feet," Eddie said.

"It sounds like you might need me around to save you then," Steve smiled.

"I definitely could, and you being around to pull me off the ledge would save the rest of Wayne's hair," he said, flashing his dimples.

"Sounds like I've got my work cut out for me, then," he said.

"I like to think that I'm worth it," Eddie said.

"I'm definitely starting to see that," Steve said.

"You know, if I were your boyfriend, I think I would have stayed and fought your parents for you. You're definitely worth it," Eddie said, casually sipping his hot chocolate. "So, how serious was this boyfriend of yours?"

"I mean, not very," Steve said. "I wasn't heartbroken when he left. Hey, wait a minute. . .Eddie, do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"Oh, I thought you would never ask!" Eddie exclaimed and kissed his cheek. "Hell yeah, big boy!"

"I wasn't - I mean, you know, what never mind," Steve chuckled. "It worked out."

"Yeah, it did," Eddie said, snuggling into him.

"So, how hard are you going to test my ability to keep you alive?" Steve asked.

"Oh, you have no idea!"

They continued to talk for a long time until they could no longer feel their extremities.

LATER. . .

Steve followed Eddie into his trailer as he barrelled through the front door. Wayne jumped as the front door slammed open.

"Boy, what have I told you about slamming that door and scaring me like that?" Wayne asked.

"To keep it up. You know how you told me that this trailer wasn't big enough for me to be bringing girls over?" Eddie asked. "Well, I found a loophole! I brought a boy home instead!"

"I didn't know you liked boys," Wayne said.

"Until today, I didn't realize that I did either," Eddie said with a grin.

Steve closed the front door behind him and quickly turned to Eddie.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It wasn't until this angel saved me from falling to my death, and no, I'm not being dramatic, that I realized that I also like the boys, specifically this boy," Eddie said.

"I should have suspected this when you offered to introduce me to your uncle," he grinned. "But I didn't realize that you didn't know about yourself until today."

"Sorry," Eddie said. "So, I know it's last minute, but he'll be sleeping in my bed for a few days until he moves into his new place."

"You really save his life?" Wayne asked.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said. "Idiot looked too far over the quarry and nearly fell in."

"Eddie!" Wayne yelled and then laughed. "Sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Steve Harrington," he said and held out his hand for Wayne to shake.

"Steve Harrington, huh?" he asked in amusement as he shook his hand. "Well, thank you, Steve Harrington, for saving my boy."

"It was no problem," he said.

"Enjoy your hair while you can because you're in for it," he said, and Steve snorted at Eddie's yelp. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

"He makes wonderful hot chocolate," Eddie said. "Come on."

He followed Eddie into his bed and watched him rush around the room to make it more presentable.

"Eddie," Steve said.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure about this? It's all happening so fast, and I just want to make sure that you're not jumping in because I saved your life," Steve said.

"I've been struggling with my sexuality for a long time now because other people just automatically make the assumption that just because I'm a freak that I'm also queer," Eddie sighed, "And condsidering that it came from people who just wanted to beat me up all the time, the more I wanted to prove them wrong. Then you came along, and all I wanted to do was to finally stop fighting it. You did that, and it wasn't because you saved my life. It's because you held me after and you didn't let me go. You made me feel safe."

Steve smiled. He cupped Eddie's face and kissed him.

"You made me feel safe, too, right here and right now," Steve said. "Thanks for giving me a place to run to. Hold me?"

"Done."

Eddie dropped the clothes he was holding and pulled Steve onto the bed, right into his safe arms. He didn't have to worry about his parents ever again.

"You're trying to seduce me for my hot chocolate recipe, aren't you?" Steve asked and Eddie laughed.

"You got me!"

Steve smiled as Eddie's laughter caused them both to shake. He pressed his ear close to his chest. He closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of Eddie's heartbeat and laughter.