#can u tell that I like drawing electricity

[jiggleb0ners]

Been a hot minute since I did one of these. Tried something a bit more ambitious this time. Not perfect, but I'm still pretty happy with it.

Included a couple of closer crops cause compression really annihilated this one lol

[perenlop]

sorry gonna be gushing for a second but MAN!!! the animation fucks so hard in sun and moon im not being a contrarian it genuinely just looks so good

[musicallisto]

hello beloved I hope your shoulder surgery goes well!!! as a little distraction can I please ask for a franco colapinto x driver!reader, enemies to lovers? love u and thinking of u always xoxo

· · · · ♡ BOOM, CRASH! (fc43)

… starring franco colapinto x f!driver!reader ... 2.4k words ... in which you get into a nasty crash, and the first person to visit you in the hospital is the last guy you'd ever imagined being worried about you. ... warnings for crash, hospital, injuries, blood, nothing too graphic i think! reader is a bit of a bully tbhh but it is a cutthroat sport 😌 ... if you haven't noticed already, these are all very self-indulgent for me, and this is no exception.

Ironically, the last words you remember telling Franco Colapinto before you barrel into the wall at turn 12 were “Don't crash it.”

“What?”

“Don't crash it,” you repeat pointedly. “Logan wasn't exactly irreproachable in that regard. Budget cap's drawing closer.”

Your smile is wide but dulcet, not quite reaching your eyes, and your teeth are sharp and gritted. To any inopportune cameras that would be pointed at you right now, you only look like a well-meaning driver giving your rookie teammate advice before his second-ever F1 race... but neither you nor Franco miss the electricity crackling in the hallway outside the driver rooms.

“What makes you think I'm gonna crash it?" the Argentinian bites back, all fluttering eyelashes and wolfish smile. Unfazed, as always. Grinds your gears like little else can. "If anything, you be careful to not crash into me. Since I'm starting ahead on the grid and all.”

“Right, I forget it's your first time in Baku. You'll see what I mean soon enough, anyway.”

Your steps lead you down the hallway and to the garages mechanically, a path you've taken dozens of times, wearing different colored suits, following behind different teammates in stride. And this year's Williams blue would've suited you perfectly... if it didn't come attached with the pretentious goofball traipsing behind you.

You don't even bother looking back when you speak again. You raise your chin and brace yourself for the artificial lights of the pitlane.

“Good luck, or whatever.”

“It wouldn't kill you to be nice, you know?”

“Wouldn't kill you to know your place.”

The door handle creaks beneath your gloved hand, drowning out whatever it is Franco mutters in Spanish on the other end of the hall—”re amargada la piba esta” he mumbles to no one but himself—, and at last you are safe, at peace in the nervous bustle of a garage entirely devoted to you.

Sure, getting a new teammate midseason is a tough predicament to find oneself in: a whole new dynamic to establish, a whole routine to fall into. And newbies always get the chance to make good first impressions; not the girl who’s been sitting in the car for two years. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t mind it—Carlos Sainz will be snatching your first driver privileges next year anyway—but it would be easier to comply if the aforementioned new teammate wasn’t an annoying pain in the ass, flirting and laughing his way through the paddock with that detached nonchalance that believes everyone must be wrapped around his finger, and then having the gall to outqualify you on one of your favorite circuits. On his first-ever time there!

So yes, maybe it’s your ego taking up too much space in the tight cockpit of your Williams, obscuring your vision. Maybe it’s the disastrous grip you’ve reported twice now on the radio—Okay, Y/N, we heard that and we’ll get back to you.

Whatever it is, somewhere around lap 20, your car oversteers into a wide spin right as you enter the rapid turn. The steering wheel snaps out of your hands, and it’s like a giant strangles you with all its might for a blink of an eye, barely even a second.

You only know you’ve hit the wall—hard—from the ringing in your ears and soreness of your jaw. What used to be your front right tire lies in front of your smashed wing, rubber and carbon scattered pitifully. Your finger shakes when you lift it and press the radio button.

“I’m OK… I think.”

A flash of red catches the corner of your eye. You’re not sure if it’s from the flag being waved outside of track limits, a Haas zooming past in the corner, or… it’s hot, and viscous on your eyebrow, dripping into your eyes. You bring your hand to your forehead, where your helmet is crushed inward, just above your left eye. Smashed into your forehead.

Then everything kind of blurs together. You vaguely feel someone helping you out of the wreckage, their distant yapping about concussion symptoms not helping your light-headedness at all. You think you slip out of consciousness for the first time then, on the track still, because your next memory is of an ambulance—or what you assume to be an ambulance, you’ve never ridden in one before, and you even think to yourself this new procedure is pretty excessive from the FIA, the medical car was quite sufficient—and then it’s back to nothingness until you wake up for good on a stretcher, hooked to some sort of medical tube—perfusion?—as you’re being ushered into a quiet hospital room.

The nurse who visits you is sweet, filling in the blanks in slow, accented English. The gash to your forehead is pretty deep, but nothing the surgeon doesn’t see at least once a week! (At that, you lift a groggy hand above your brow bone, where you feel a thick bandage.) A few stitches later and you’re good as new, though the blood loss and concussion combined left you pretty weak, and justify keeping you in observation for the night. It’s just protocol, you’re probably used to hospital visits in that line of work of yours, she jokes—and you know you’ve recovered almost all your mental acuity because you get offended at that. No, you don’t usually crash. In fact, you haven’t all season…

And it had to be today of all days, in Baku… after you told Franco to not crash it.

When the nurse leaves the room with the promise she’ll be back in an hour, you let out a long, dreary sigh. Fernando Alonso’s grainy voice over the radio comes to mind. ¡Karma!

Night falls quickly outside your window with nothing to kill time but your phone. After catching up on the race results—somehow you’re too exhausted to feel irritated at Colapinto’s points finish—and posting a reassuring Instagram story for your followers, you’re left to the mercy of your ruminating thoughts. Sleep is impossible to catch; the adrenaline of the race hasn’t worn off yet, and you’ve been knocked out so long now you’re desperate to leave this stretcher.

You’ve just about decided to call the nurse for an early discharge when a shadow appears behind the door’s little windowpane, hesitates for a second, and then knocks. Medical personnel wouldn’t bother; it’s probably your family, or maybe even Vowles, or…

“Hey, how… che, estás hecha mierda.”

You tense immediately when you catch the brown waves of hair and unmistakable accent as Franco walks into your hospital room. He looks genuinely stumped, like he hadn’t expected to see you in such bad condition, so much so he forgets to shut the door behind him.

For some reason, the sight endears you. Makes you want to take him in your arms, feel his realness in this hallucinatory evening. What a ridiculous thought!

“Stop it with the Spanish,” you protest, devoid of your usual fire however. “Maybe it works on your fangirls, but not on me.”

“I said you look like shit.”

“Oh.” You look him straight in the eye, the silliness of the situation dawning on you, and against all odds you start to laugh. A real laugh, more than a chuckle, one that sends phantom pains stabbing through your sore abdomen. “Well if that’s all you’re gonna say, you can stick to Spanish! I don’t want to hear it.”

What did the nurse say about the anesthesia’s side effects? Do they include feeling a little glad and relieved to see your detested teammate? To know he’s the first person to check up on you?

Whatever the reason, you’re laughing, absurdly, and so is Franco, chuckling to himself as he closes the door and drags a chair closer to your bed. His eyes crinkle like a little kid’s, and that’s when you notice his disheveled appearance. Cheeks a little flushed, hair tousled like he’s just run a marathon, he’s wearing a crumpled-up Williams shirt, no doubt the first thing he could get his hands on after the race. It hits you then that he’s probably just off media duties, and the fact he’s alone, with no team delegation in tow, indicates he left early. Just to get to you. To make sure you were alright.

You are a competitor, but you aren’t a monster. The idea Franco couldn’t be bothered to wait for James, or anyone else, tugs at your heartstrings.

“Thank God you told me not to crash it, huh?” he teases between chuckles.

“Shut up.”

“Careful, Y/N, the budget cap is coming for you,” he wiggles his fingers over your face like a looming ghost.

You turn your head away to face the wall, huffing in exasperation, but a throbbing pain traverses your skull, and you wince. Franco’s eyes darken, smile fading into a grave expression.

You rarely see him like this outside of the helmet. It’s novel, but it’s welcome. Almost attractive, in a way.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I… My helmet smashed into my forehead. I was bleeding pretty bad, apparently, they had to stitch me up. I got concussed too. Aren’t helmets supposed to absorb these hits?”

“Concussed?” he repeats, and holds out his hand in a peace sign. “How many fingers?”

You stick out your tongue at the Argentinian, flipping him the bird.

“And now?”

“Ah, come on, don’t be so mean,” Franco chuckles, scooting a little closer to your stretcher with his chair. Unfazed, as always. But this time it doesn’t peeve you; you’re rather thankful for his cheeky banter, actually. For a moment, in the blur of cold white lights and carbon fiber debris, you’d started to fear you could lose it for good. “We were just starting to become friends!”

“That’s because I’m concussed. I don’t want to be friends with you, we’re rivals.”

“Well the whole rivals thing isn’t working very well for you lately. Maybe you’re better off being friends with me.”

You roll your eyes, but the gnawing anxiety that roars in your stomach whenever someone pits you against the rookie stays quiet for once. Perhaps you’re still under the influence of the tranquilizers… or perhaps those brown eyes holding you in their light, tender in a way you’ve never seen them before, make it harder to get mad at him.

“I’ll consider it.”

And you don’t mean it just yet, but you don’t don’t mean it. What do you even hate Franco Colapinto for? Stealing the spotlight from you just two weeks into his career? Flirting with every living being on the paddock except you? Or forcing you to up your game and face your fears?

A stabbing pain crushes your skull all of a sudden, and you shut your eyes, teeth gritted and muscles taut, to try and breathe it out… to no avail. When you open your eyes, Franco is staring at you, brows furrowed in that same serious, concerned expression that sends a wholly different type of pins and needles through your body.

“Everything alright?”

“No… The painkillers. I need another ketoprofen,” you whine, squinting your eyes against the harsh hospital lightning.

“Should I call the nurse?”

“No, they’re on the table over there,” you gesture blindly. “There’s a glass too.”

Only sounds inform you of what’s going on once you close your eyes, faint lights and colors barely piercing through your eyelids. The rustling of fabric, then someone fumbling with cardboard and pills, your sink opening, and then cautious footsteps stopping at the edge of your bed.

“Here.”

You take the pill between weak fingers and fight with all your might to sit up straight in the bed without moving your head… but the soreness and exhaustion from the race and surgery overpower you. So much for neck strength.

“I can’t,” you huff out in defeat. “I can’t tilt my head.”

“It’s okay. Take the pill,” Franco orders softly, and you put the drug on your tongue, too tired to raise the outrage of him bossing you around.

Slowly, carefully, Franco brings the rim of the glass to your lips, and you drink all that you can, training your attention on the medication going down your throat—and not on your teammate’s intense gaze fixed on your mouth, nor the proximity of your bodies or his slightly ragged breath.

“Thank you,” you exhale when you’re done.

Luckily for him, he has his back turned to you when you speak, setting the empty glass down on the table, so you don’t notice his bashful smile. He’s never heard you so docile, affable, even, and though he likes it when you bite back… it feels great, too, to know there is a way to pierce that armor of yours.

“Franco,” you call out to him, neither of you missing how this is one of the first times you’ve called him by his first name. “Do you mind… staying? Just until James or someone else gets here. It gets so boring.”

He spins on his heels in disbelief, scrutinizing you in search of mockery, or irony, or your usual callousness… but all he reads is earnest and the slightest hint of embarrassment, all he sees is your outstretched hand. So he brushes it with his, not daring to hold it purposefully just yet. Like he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome into your bubble.

“Yeah, sure. But only so you won’t get bored.”

“Of course,” you smile faintly as he sits back down on his chair. Your eyes meet in newfound amusement, maybe even temporary fondness. “Don’t go around thinking I like you.”

“Me? I would never. We’re rivals.”

You give a small appreciative nod, and after some instants of silence, clear your throat and ask him to recount the end of the race. Just as you expected, his storytelling is dramatic and entertaining, interspersed with words he doesn’t remember how to say in English and the unmissable zest of grid gossip Franco always brings to his tales. You chuckle, gasp, and pester even, as much as you can with your aching skull and limbs… and barely notice the minutes ticking by, or how you wish the rest of your team would never show up, your distaste for Franco slaking.

Maybe you can be persuaded into liking his presence, after all. So long as he stays out of the car, though… and remains your personal nurse.

… f1 taglist; @retvenkos @giuseppe-yuki (want to be added? send me an ask!)

[paigestrap]

i need you.

paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings? smut (minors dni), light angst and fluff, swearing

summary - you and paige are friends until you aren’t 🤭🤭

enjoy!!! (please?) even if u don’t pls don’t tell me i’m sensitive.

you couldnt identify the point at which your friendship with paige grew into something more. meeting her in one of your soc classes when she showed up late and sat next to you, you two became friends almost instantly.

you knew who she was of course, had gone to many of the uconn women’s basketball game. and you would never tell her, but you were definitely a fan from the start, her game and personality being a major draw, and maybe also the fact that she was beautiful, like really really beautiful (a fact you would also never tell her).

you two started hanging out pretty much everyday, whether you were doing work, going out to eat, or hanging out with her and the rest of the team at a bar after games, the two of you had become quite comfortable in each others company.

but one day, things started to change. when your shoulders would touch watching your favorite show with her next to you, it sent electricity throughout your entire body, you felt yourself looking forward to the times when your hand would brush hers while walking side by side with her to class, your mood would lighten when she would text you to hangout or simply tell you about her day, and the time you spent together felt more and more intimate as your fondness for the blonde grew.

sometimes, it felt like paige was feeling the same thing you were. her eyes would linger for longer than you felt a friend’s eyes should, her touches felt more intentional, her compliments more frequent, and her words gentler. there were times when you both were alone where it seemed like the two of you were so close to crossing that line. like the first time she asked you to spend the night, and you woke up the next morning in her arms. or when she asked you to wear her jersey to her game the next day, and of course you obliged. she asked you afterwards if you would wear her jersey for every one, justifying her request by saying you’re her “good luck charm” and of course her good luck charm needs to rep her jersey, and of course, you obliged. when you were out with her at the bar and the two of you had been drinking she would constantly be touching you, hugging you, and telling you how much you meant to her. you couldn’t tell if this was paige being paige, or if she was truthful in her words and actions.

these moments were always left unspoken, as neither you nor her felt confident enough to ever cross that line. but your heart yearned for her. her touch, her voice, her laugh, her beautiful mind. and it was getting harder and harder everyday to hide your feelings.

now, with her returning to campus after the uconn women’s basketball team lost to iowa in the final four, you feel those inhibitions being lifted. your phone screen lit up as her contact appeared on your lock screen.

p: need u rn. can u come over?

you: of course, i’m on my way

as you walk out of your apartment to make your way to your friend you realize now the extent to which you feel for her and you want nothing more than to hold her in your arms and comfort her.

“hey,” she says, opening the door for you, her face betraying her overwhelming grief. you don’t say anything, you just pull her into a hug as she lets out her first of many tears.

“i know. i’m so sorry paige. you deserved the win, you all did” you say, comforting her while also holding back tears of your own.

“can we go to my room, just wanna be with you right now,” her tear stained eyes meet yours, and your heart swells at the urge to kiss her tears away.

“of course, i’m here for whatever you need, always” you say, grabbing her hand as the two of you make your way towards her room.

“i wish you’d been there, missed you so much it’s crazy,” she admits as you both lay down side by side in her bed. her eyes never breaking away from yours.

“i missed you too paige, im so sorry i couldn’t be there for you. i hope you know how much i wish i could’ve” you pull her into your arms and embrace her as her tears begin to fall again.

“i think,” she starts, but stops herself and pauses for a long time. you are about to ask her about it before she continues, “i think i realized something about myself this weekend”

another pause. your heart beats faster, you curse yourself knowing paige could feel it too. “what’s that,” your voice is barely audible as you struggle to get the words out.

“i need you, like i really really need you. ever since i met you i just wanna be by you all the time. when we lost i just wanted you to be there and,” she propped herself up to look at you before pulling you in to a tight embrace “i’m scared that you don’t need me too” her voice breaks at the end, shattering any hope of disguising her emotions.

“oh paige, you have no idea,” you say, feeling yourself breaking at her words. you pull away from her embrace and stare into her eyes, searching for a reason not to let your walls fall. you don’t see one, “i need you like i need oxygen to breathe. the world feels muffled when you’re not next to me, i admire everything about you and i’ve never felt this way about another person before. i’ve been so scared these past few weeks that i’ll lose you if you find out how much i want you, but i can’t go on pretending i think of you as my friend when you are so much more than that.” there it is. there’s no going back now. your eyes move away from hers as you await her response.

“baby,” she whispers, hand moving to caress your cheek as she gently pulls your face in her direction, “you’ll never lose me,”

suddenly, the space between you feels so small, and in a swift motion she closes the gap between you and kisses you. the world around you begins to spin as all of your senses become heightened. you feel yourself kiss back, not too hard, not too soft, and suddenly the emotions brimming for the past months come flooding to you all at once.

her hands meet your waist as she shifts her weight to be positioned on top of you, your legs opening as she places herself in between them, never breaking your kiss.

she eventually breaks it to look down on you, a million emotions displayed on her face. she reconnects your lips with hers and you feel yourself giving in completely, desire for the blonde blooming as her kisses grow hungrier. “i want you so bad” she says breathlessly in between kisses. her tongue grazes your bottom lip, requesting entrance, and as with all of her requests, you oblige.

“please, paige,” you let out, suppressing the moans threatening to slip out as her tongue explores your mouth. you tug on her shirt, needing to feel her body closer. she takes it off and removes your shirt as well. leaving you in only your bra on top. she smiles as she looks at your now exposed body.

“god, your tits are fucking amazing,” she remarks, staring at them lustfully. you blush, suddenly feeling so exposed. her hands reach your back as she unclasps the final layer, removing your bra and revealing your bare chest. she fondles your tits and the sudden touch elicits a moan you didn’t have the restraint to hold back. her hands feel so good, and you desperately need them somewhere else, “i wanna fuck you so bad babe”

“god paige please i need you so badly” you whine, so far gone at this point to even try to hide your burning desire.

“yeah?” she grins, biting her lip and licking her lips, “where do you need me, my sweet girl, show me”

you pull yourself up and remove your bottoms, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you grow increasingly aware of how wet you are, and embarrassed at how obvious it is. her hands roam your body and she grips both of your thighs, her gaze lowering to your heat. “you’re so wet, all because of me?” she asks like she doesn’t know the answer and lets her finger graze over your clothed pussy. you moan as she touches your clit, grinding your hips desperate for more. “so needy baby, i’m gonna take these off now alright?” you nod as she removes your panties, leaving you completely exposed and at her expense.

her hand meets your bare pussy, rubbing in between your folds and onto your clit, eliciting a loud moan from you as your body reacts to her touch. you move your head to the side and close your eyes, letting the pleasure take over. but you are quickly brought back to reality when she stops touching you and takes your face into her hand, bringing it back to face her, “i want you to look at me when i fuck you, do you understand baby?” she plants a kiss on your lips and you nod in response, unable to say a thing.

her fingers move back towards your heat and she slides one into you, “how’s that sweet girl, does that feel good?”

“yes. please. more.” you whine, your body burning at her touch, desperately needing more.

“oh yeah?” she teased as she slipped another finger in you, slowly pumping them in and out of you, curling them so she could feel them stretching against your walls.

you were done for. your body twisting and rutting against her, only causing her to quicken her pace inside you, never breaking your gaze for a second. “god you’re so fucking gorgeous like this, all mine”

your senses overloaded by her hungry words and quickening pace, you felt yourself nearing your climax “paige, please don’t stop. i’m so close” you beg, causing her to fuck you harder and faster.

“yeah? come for me baby, you’ve done so well, my pretty girl,” that was all it took to force you over the edge. you come hard, screaming out her name as the pleasure enveloped your entire body. she fucks you through your orgasm, whispering in your ear the entire time telling you how pretty you look and how good you are.

the wave of pleasure subsiding and your senses gradual coming back to you, she slides her fingers out of you, licking your wetness off of them and falling back onto your smaller figure.

“holy shit” you breathe out, panting. suddenly feeling very sleepy.

“yeah, holy shit.” she laughs, “you’re so fucking hot, you know that?” you blush at her compliment, burying your face in her chest.

“do you still think i don’t need you?” you ask, looking up at her with a shy smile. she grins, giving you a sweet kiss and looking at you with so much endearment it makes your heart swell.

“no, i’m pretty sure you made yourself clear” she laughs, pulling you closer.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie has strong feelings for Steve. Feelings he thought he had gotten rid of once Steve rescued him from hell. His hatred of him didn't even make sense, even before all of this. So, because he's a jock he has to be a jerk like all the rest? Eddie had made an assumption about him and Lucas just like they made about him. He hated that he had done that. It hadn't been his proudest moment. Now, those frustrating feelings are resurfacing, which is ridiculous because not only is he a good guy, but he is also a complete dork as well and he's so fucking great with the kids. He should be happy that he's friends with him, so why does his stomach feel like there's a bird trying to get out of its cage when he looks at Steve?

"Eddie, man, why are you scowling at me?" Steve asked.

He was hanging out with Steve, Robin, and Robin's girlfriend, Vickie. It was supposed to be a nice, casual get-together. Of course, Eddie had to ruin it.

"I hate you!" Eddie burst out.

There was silence in the living room as everyone stared at him. Steve looked hurt. Robin looked angry, and if Vickie wasn't holding her back, Eddie was sure she would rip out his throat with her bare hands.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It doesn't make any sense why I do, though!" Eddie burst out. "Because you're a great guy! Fantastic even! When I look at you, I get these feelings in my chest that annoy the fucking shit out of me. Everything about you is so fucking perfect like a goddamn prince out of a storybook! With your perfect hair, your perfect eyes, and your perfect teeth. My God, you're even great with the kids! When you talk about going out on dates, I hate that, too! I know you're just trying to do that to get over Nancy. Speaking of Nancy, I like her and all, but when I think about you two together, it makes my fucking skin scrawl! What the fuck is that? I mean, I like Nancy, but fuck, the idea of you two together makes me want to rip off my own eyebrows and eat them! Jesus H Christ! There's no reason for me to hate you, and yet somehow . . . Wait, why are you guys laughing?"

Vickie was giggling into Robin's shoulder while Robin laughed into a pillow. Steve was laughing with his hands over his eyes.

"He's so cute!" Vickie laughed.

"Why are you guys laughing at me?" Eddie asked. "Stop it!"

"You poor Dingus!" Robin laughed.

"What?!" Eddie asked.

"You like me, Eddie," Steve said.

"Yeah, I like you, but I also seem to hate you," he sighed.

"No, I mean, you like me," Steve said, standing up.

"You said that already," Eddie replied.

"Alright, can I do something so I can get my point across?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, do whatever you want to me, man," Eddie said and Steve grinned widely.

"Within reason, Steven!" Robin exclaimed.

Steve cupped his face and kissed him. Eddie gasped, a jolt of what felt like electricity shot through him. He liked it. The kiss was short and to the point. Steve pulled away.

"Oh, I like you! Oh, thank God! I thought I hated you! Wait, am I gay? No, I still like like girls. . .hold on, give me a minute," Eddie said, raising his finger to do invisible math in the air.

"You like this man, Steve?" Robin asked as they watched Eddie erase something.

"Oh, yeah," Steve replied.

"I've never actually seen someone figure out their sexuality before," Vickie said.

"Oh, I had a chance to do that with Steve. It was a wonderful experience. Definitely a lot less stupid than this," Robin said.

"I like both!" Eddie exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "And I like you!"

"I like both too, Eddie, and I like you too," Steve laughed. "I'm bisexual."

"Bi - sex - u - al," Eddie said like, drawing out the words, and he shook his head from side to side as if rolling the word around in his head. "Yes! Me too! Bisexual! Does this mean this is a double date now?"

Steve grinned, sat down on the love seat, and pulled him into his lap.

"Definitely," Steve said.

"Let me tell you, I feel this huge relief now that I know I like you," Eddie said. "I can't believe I thought I hated you!"

"Dingus!" Robin giggled.

"How long are you guys going to laugh at me about this?" Eddie pouted as Steve shook with laughter beneath him.

"Forever!"

Eddie buried his head into Steve’s neck as he laughed with them, sighing in contentment when Steve kissed his forehead.

[squinch-depraved]

Bro PLZ write something about teds mustache PLZ🙏

here u go short while i work on other stuffs

"i promise you you aren't too heavy, please sit on my face," ted begged.

"your mustache is gonna feel so weird though!!" excuses. to tell the truth, he just made you really nervous. you honestly didn't expect that mentioning that you had never been eaten out to your best friend would land you in this situation. "i dunno, ted..."

"c'mon, please trust me. i promise we can stop if you don't like it but i wanna try to make you feel good at least once. please?" he made that stupid face that gets him whatever he wants and leaned back on to his couch, resting his head flat on a pillow and patting his chest for you to hop on.

with a scoff, you rolled your eyes and started to climb onto him, but he stopped you and pointed to your pants.

"off," he instructed simply. his bossiness left a damp spot in your panties once you slowly, carefully removed them, folding both them and your pants and setting them on the coffee table. "there we go." you could hear the grin in his voice before you spun back around to glare at him.

"you're so annoying, you know that?"

"you love me."

he wasn't wrong. in what way, you weren't sure, but you did love your best friend.

"hop on!" he waved you over, intertwining his fingers with yours when you straddled his chest. "my face is up here," he joked when you hesitated.

"oh my god, fine, i'll sit on your face if it'll shut you up," you teased, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. ted, who couldn't stop smiling, helped you scoot forward until you were hovering over his face. once he had a clear view of your wet hole, he groaned and wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you down and holding you tight while you squirmed.

his tongue worked deftly in and out of your cunt, flicking and swirling around your sensitive bud and drawing frantic wails from you. you had never felt anything so pleasurable; everything he was doing was sending white hot electricity straight to your core.

"teddy, fuck!!" you screamed, bucking your hips furiously on his face. his mustache provided just the right stimulation, brushing against your thighs when he pulled his mouth away from your pussy to plant sloppy kisses everywhere. "feels so good..." you trailed off.

he moaned into your folds as he slid his tongue back in you, the vibrations causing your legs to tremble.

"ted, please, you're so good, so good to me, fuck! why did you wanna- nghh, do this so bad?" your voice was shaky, and he pulled away with a lewd noise to answer your question.

"because i think you deserve to feel good. this doesn't have to be anything more than two friends helping each other, if you don't want it to be. just, shut up and let me taste you, please?" he bargained, brushing his mustache along your skin to soothe you.

"how am i helping you?" you asked, puzzled.

"you think i'm not gonna get off to this for like, the rest of my life?" he chuckled, pulling your cunt back to his mouth. staring down at him made your stomach flip- the way his hazel eyes peered up at you as he worked his mouth was intoxicating.

"teddy, i think i'm close," you whined, rolling your hips forward. his grip on your thighs tightened as he furrowed his brows and began eating you faster, sloppy noises filling the room. letting out a constant string of moans and swears as you tossed your head back, you let him devour you and arched your back.

he guided you through your orgasm, grunting when you began to claw at his arms where they were holding you down. he overstimulated you just a tad, unable to resist his cruel desires, not knowing if he would get to do this again. once you rode out your high, you scrambled backwards off of him, panting, and collapsed onto the couch.

"was that good?" he asked nervously, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. you couldn't form words yet, but nodded solemnly. smiling, he rose from his seat and walked to the kitchen, returning with a water bottle, which you accepted gratefully.

"can we do that again?" you asked quietly once he sat back down.

"uh. yeah, if you really want to," ted offered, scratching the back of his neck.

pulling him in for a deep kiss, you grinned at the faint taste of yourself still on his lips. his mustache tickled your upper lip as the kiss deepened, and soon he was on top of you, kissing between your thighs and enjoying every noise that spilled from your lips.

[creepypasta65]

Hi what do u think the creepypastas hobbies would be?

I chose random characters if that's okay. Thanks for the request :)

Toby, Jeff, and Eyeless Jack Hobbies:

Toby 🪓:

Toby loves woodcarving.

In his spare time, he carves animals with a pocket knife and gifts them to some mansion residents like Nina or Ben.

He likes hatchet throwing for obvious reasons. Toby has gained nice biceps from throwing hatchets.

Toby draws. Though he's not the best artist, he can draw pretty decently. He mostly draws abstract or cartoonish drawings.

He likes walking and exploring the forest, collecting rocks, pinecones, and sticks.

Toby also likes photography. He takes pictures of animals around the forest like deer, raccoons, ducks, etc.

He enjoys playing video games with Ben and Jeff. He may not be the best at them but enjoys them.

Jeff🔪:

Jeff also does woodcarving. Sometimes, he and Toby carve together or make each other little figures.

He is a workout type of dude. Jeff cares about his appearance, especially his body. He works out a lot. He has many dumbbells in his room. Jeff's weight lifts the most he can lift is probably 50 to 100lbs.

Jeff also likes boxing to take out his anger and stress.

Jeff plays video games with Ben and Toby. He enjoys beating Toby but rages when Ben beats him.

Loves listening to music. He enjoys rock bands like Mcr, PTV, The Cure, etc.

Jeff also enjoys watching horror films and makes fun of the dumb protagonist. He's like, "What are you doing RUN!". Yeah, he yells at the TV.

He plays the electric guitar and practices his favorite songs. He usually plays when he's alone because he doesn't want anyone to know.

Eyeless Jack🫘:

Jack enjoys reading. His favorite books are non-fiction, mystery, and thriller with the occasional romance. Yeah, he likes love stories.

However, he still reads medical books about the human body.

He is a writer. Jack is currently writing a book, which is a mini-series about a detective.

Jack also likes working out. His workout buddy is Jeff. They both encourage each other to do better.

He is a fan of astronomy and loves stargazing. Jack also knows all the constellations. Not many of the creepypastas know that about him. Pls ask him about the stars or constellations, he would be so happy to tell you everything about them.

Jack likes cooking. It reminds him of when he was human. He gets so happy when the creepypastas ask him to cook or compliment his food. However, he can't eat any of it because it makes him sick he can only remember how it tastes.

He likes playing checkers and chess.

Should I make a pt2? Have a nice day/night :)

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 22 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-He sets you on the vanity, the marble cool against your bare bottom. The contrast of his hot hands upon your thighs is maddening, and you whimper as he withdraws from you.

“Shh,” he says. “Do you want these undone? Or do you want me to touch you?”

The fact that you actually have to think for a moment before you answer makes his eyes shine.

“Untie me,” you answer as quickly as you can form words. By the way he looks at you, you’re afraid it wasn’t fast enough. There is a heavy pause between you, electric with the warring of your wills.

“Hmm.” You can’t stop yourself from making a sound when he leaves you, though he only takes a few steps to the tub, turning on the taps.

“I’ve had a long day,” he says, looking you over like he might like to eat you.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, your heart in your throat.

This is it, you realize. No turning back now.

“Where were you?”

“You’ll find out later, if you’re a good girl.”

You’re not sure you like the sound of that.

He bats the door closed with a swing of his long arm before returning to you, standing between your spread legs. You are cold, in just the thin silk of the stupid nighty, and the line of his body so near yours warms you like a furnace. He takes your wrists in his sure hands, running his fingers over the ropes as he admires his handiwork upon you. Then he begins to pick at the first knot, and even he seems to have trouble undoing it at first.

You really hope he doesn’t have to cut it. You do not like the thought of a blade in his hand, that close to your skin.

“Is this…something you’re really into?” you dare ask, your heart in your throat.

“Shibari? I may have dabbled in my misspent youth,” he answers with a smirk, enjoying your uneasiness far too much. “Are you curious about it, kitten?”

“No,” you answer quickly, winning a pout that has no business on the lips of a grown ass man, but somehow is cute.

You understand it’s something some people enjoy, and that’s perfectly fine. Consenting people, who know what they’re getting into, and trust each other.

Sadly, that is not the boat you’re in right now.

“Shame. Maybe later, when you’ve come to trust me more.”

The fact that he knows you don’t trust him now is perhaps a little heartening. However, you decide you will not be bringing it up again.

When at last your restraints are reduced to a pile of red silk on the floor you cannot suppress your sigh. He runs his hands over the marks in your skin, seeming fascinated by the twisted patterns imprinted in your flesh.

“You alright?” he asks, rubbing to aid the circulation. Even just on your wrists, his touch is maddening.

You press your lips, warring with the desire to tell him off for it, or play it like no big deal. You decide to go with what is already obvious between you.

“I didn’t like that.”

He turns your face up to his with a hand that engulfs your jaw. “Then be a good girl, and I won’t have to do it again.”

“Be sweet to me, and I will.”

He narrows his eyes at you for your pithy insolence, but you can tell that he’s secretly pleased. When he lowers his head to kiss you, his tongue sweeping your mouth possessively, you hate to admit that you forget all about your aching wrists, and your self-respect, straining to reach more of his soft mouth as he uses his height to draw away.

He places your hands on his chest, looking at you expectantly. Realizing that he wants you to undress him, you try for the first button.

As it turns out, you really weren’t lying about the circulation in your fingers. Or maybe the lack of use throughout the day, something. It is not easy to undo the first button of his shirt. It is tiny, and the hole is tight, and you are ready to rip it off by the time you finally manage to slide it through.

 “Don’t tear it,” he warns, as though he can read your thoughts.

You sigh, and concentrate on the second. It gets easier as you use your fingers more…and the prize you begin to unveil spurs you on. You realize you are biting your lip again when you taste blood in your mouth. Button by button, you unveil the marvel that lies beneath.

He stands still as a statue as you work, watching you with those eyes that miss nothing. You are not half as nervous as you should be, enjoying your task. When you pull out his shirt tails you finally begin to understand. 

A myriad of scars covers his body from collar to below his waist line. Large and small, fresh and old. Cuts, and round puckered flesh that look like bullet wounds. Your heart drops to your feet, and you sense it as John stiffens under your scrutiny. 

“Oh, honey...” 

It hurts to look at. It hurts because you cannot fathom the pain he must have gone through, enduring all these injuries. He lets you touch him, tracing the lines of these old wounds. You meet his eyes, finding him vulnerable, before giving in to the urge to press your lips to his chest over an old scar that cuts across his pectoral. His eyes slide closed, and you think it might be the first time you've seen him surrender to anything.

You slide down from the counter, pressing against his body as you plant your feet on the floor. Wanting to see all of him, you circle him slowly, never once taking your hands off of him. The scars continue there, and across the expanse of his powerful shoulders are sinister looking tattoos. Some men get tattoos like this because they think it makes them look hard, but somehow you just know that they mean something in his world. Something...ominous. On top of the tattoos, the praying hands in the center of his back bears a horrible brand of an upside-down crucifix.

That might have hurt more than all the rest.  

You rest your head in the divot of his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his muscled torso. It feels good, to nestle here. Better than it should.

“I wouldn't have run,” you tell him, and you feel a tremor run through his steadfast frame, his big hands covering yours just beneath his heart. 

You make your way back to his front, and his sharp eyes follow your every movement. 

“You would have had questions.” 

“Of course I would have.” 

You’re not a total idiot.

“You would have been scared.” 

You just shake your head, knowing it was true. At that time, you wouldn't have had the sense.  Even now, knowing what he was capable of... you still weren't half as scared of him as you should be. 

His gaze upon you is surprisingly soft, as he considers your words. You dare think you’ve finally gotten through to this man, until his long fingers close around your jaw, holding your gaze upwards. “You’re not lying to me just to appease me, kitten?”

Rather than follow the wiser path of meek contrition, you give way to the indignant anger rising in your breast.

“You’re so worked up about me running from you, but you know what? You ran from me first. You didn’t even give me the chance to accept you.”

He narrows his eyes down at you, considering what you’ve said.

If you're lying, he has to punish you.

If you're telling the truth, then this whole thing blew up for nothing, and it's all on him. 

Rather than hash this out, he dips his head to kiss you again, and he is not exactly gentle with you. Hungry for you, his tongue sweeps into your mouth, his teeth on your lips leaving you bruised. His hips pin you against the vanity, his erection pressing into you unforgivingly.

His fingers tangle in the lace skirt of your nightie, pulling it up. You fight him on instinct, and hear the silk tear as he jerks it from your grasp, defeating you so easily. He draws it up over your head with a flourish and throws it across the room, leaving you utterly bare to his gaze.

You are glad for the warm steam that is filling the room from the running bath. The tub is so massive it’s not even a quarter of the way full. Still, you try to cover yourself, but John grips your wrists in his big hands, twisting your arms behind you easily.  

His eyes rake over you, and your nipples harden as though he’d touched them. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.”

He falls on you, releasing your hands to cup your face as he kisses you again without mercy. His touch is possessive, inexorable, unyielding, and his hands explore your body, the curve of your bare back and the swell of your breast. His thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple make your knees weak. He recedes like a crashing wave down your body, his mouth upon your chest, your breasts, his tongue wreaking sweet agony upon your aching tips.

You don't know how much more of this your pussy can take. You've never been this turned on, for this long, in your life. 

You blink stupidly, when suddenly John is on his knees before you, looking up at you with his nose nuzzling the curls between your legs. That brief moment of eye contact electrifies you, before he guides your leg up over his shoulder, and licks your weeping slit. You lean back on the marble counter, and if not for his strong hands on your hips and your ass, you would have fallen, your legs shaking beneath you as he wrecks you with that devilish tongue.

He brings you so close to the edge with licks and little sucks, torturing you making circles with the tip of his tongue before taking mercy with broad, hard strokes, two of his long fingers sliding inside of you. That burning knot of pleasure begins to tighten within your womb. You clench on his fingers, your grip white-knuckling on the side of the vanity, so relieved for release on the horizon that you could cry.

That is when he leaves you, wiping his mouth on your belly as he stands before kissing you with the same punishing force as before. You whimper into his mouth, cheated of your pleasure, so pent up you could die.

“Hush,” he tells you, more gently than you would have expected from him in this unforgiving mood. He lifts you up onto the vanity again, easily as though you weigh nothing. With stars in your eyes, you watch as he undoes the zipper on his slacks with quick efficiency, pushing it all down to the floor and kicking it away.

You cannot help but stare, your lip caught between your teeth again. How many times a day can you think to yourself, This man is beautiful? His trim waist and powerful thighs covered in crisp dark hairs. The line of soft dark hair on his belly leads the eye downward…he is thick, and long, and even while you know you are in trouble, you cannot quell the dark thrill of knowing he is going to absolutely ruin you.

“Like what you see?” he asks, pulling you from your trance. He pumps himself up and down a few times, spreading the precum leaking from his tip.

Unable to find words in that moment, you nod.  

“What was that, sweetheart?” His big hands on your thighs pull you to the edge of the vanity top, his body wedged between your legs.

You make a frustrated sound between your teeth. “Yes, I find you very fucking beautiful, Mr. Wick.”

He offers you a cruel little laugh before catching your lips with his, his thick tip hovering at your weeping entrance. You try to move closer to him, hungry for the stretch and burn of his cock entering your body, but he holds you fast.

There is a surprising vulnerability in his next words, uttered quietly against your ear. “You want me?”

“Yes.”

God help you, but it’s the truth.

You give a strangled moan as he pushes inside of you, writhing from his cock and his teeth in your shoulder. The sound he makes is more animal than human as he works himself inside.

“Even your pussy fights back,” he huffs with strained laughter, easing himself in and out. “God, baby, you feel so good.”

Your fingernails dig into his shoulder as your body protests the invasion half-way.

“Wait…”

“Can’t…” he informs you raggedly. “Breathe for me, kitten, I know you can take me.”

“It’s been a long time,” you admit between a deep inhale, trying to adjust. A long time, and to be frank, none of your previous experiences with men prepared you for him.

“How long?” he demands, as though this is information he desperately needs to know.

“Over a year.”

Long before you met him.

He veritably growls his approval at this figure, and if you weren’t so cock-drunk you would have rolled your eyes at the fragility of the male ego. As it is…you can hardly think straight at all.

“That’s my good girl,” he rasps against your skin as he slides deeper and deeper inside. “So wet for me. So good.”

You cry out as he bottoms out against your cervix. He looks down between you, fascinated by the sight of his body buried in yours to the hilt.

“That hurt?”

“A little.”

“Sorry.” You can hardly believe it when he kisses you with contrition. “I’ll try…” He thrusts again, slower this time, and it makes you see stars. “To be gentle.” He presses his thumb to your lips, and you open for him, sucking and leaving a trail of saliva as he withdraws. When he circles that thumb over your clit you mewl like the needy little kitten you are for him, your thighs tightening upon his narrow hips. He moves for you at just the right speed, teasing you with the thickness of his shaft in all the right places inside. Your walls grip him with abandon, desperate for the pleasure he’s been dangling before you for days.

“You wanna cum, pretty kitten?”

“Yes,” you pant, so desperate for release. Your tight little pussy clenches around his cock in answer, and he sucks in breath through his teeth.

“Then you have to say something for me. And you have to mean it.” 

Fuck. 

“What?” You can hardly remember your own name, much less form complicated sentences as he fills you to bursting, merciless and so very wonderful, his thumb working magic on your clit.

“Say you’re mine.” 

He glides inside you, stretching you more somehow, but removes his hand to grip your hip.

When you meet him with silence he kisses your neck, nipping at your skin as punishment. There will be marks all over your chest and neck tomorrow.

It doesn't matter.

Not like you're going anywhere.

Not like anyone will see you. 

You keen, craving more pressure, more friction, pulling him deeper with legs wrapped around his back, bringing you so close to where you need him. You think you can come on his cock, whether he touches you or not. It would be a victory, to prove that your pleasure needn't only come at his own whim. 

Knowing all too well, he denies it to you, holding himself just shy of it. 

“Say it,” he demands. “Say you're mine, and I'll give you everything you want.” 

“Even freedom?” you dare ask as he strums at you again, a master at keeping the fire at just the right height, making you feel so good, but never quite enough to make you cum.

You don't know how you have the cheek, with his clever fingers between your legs frying your brain.

This man was made to torture you, it seems. He shifts, so that he is making shallow strokes that only barely stimulate you. You scream a little in frustration. It actually makes him smile. 

“Did you know that ninety percent of women cannot orgasm on penetration alone?”

“You don't have to be so fucking smug about it.” 

“You need me.” 

“Do I?”

You reach for your clit, hoping he will be distracted by watching you. Most men would, but not John. He is a man of focus, determination, sheer will. He catches your hand with a warning growl, twisting it behind you. 

Pulling you closer, he buries himself as deep as he can, his face buried in your hair. It doesn’t hurt this time. It feels like he makes you whole, and you feel the bass growl he makes against your ear in the depths of your soul.

“Please? I can’t wait anymore, baby girl. I want to feel you cum with me.” There is a new desperation in his words, and you know he must be close.

“Then let me cum,” you answer, hardly recognizing your own voice. “I want it. I want you.”

“Say you’re mine.”

You are tempted. Boy, are you. You want it so badly your legs tremble, your back arched tight as a bow. A tear rolls down your cheek, because fuck you if a part of you doesn't want to say it. Not just because it's the only way you're going to get to orgasm, and he’s driving you insane. But because...you know it would make him so fucking happy.

You’re afraid if you say it aloud, it might be true.

You are so close, but he is a master of bringing you just to the edge before backing away. In that moment, you hate him as much as you love him. You know, you just know, that if you give in to this possessive madness so soon, there will be no going back. You will be so fucked, and not in the way you want to be.

You just shake your head.

“Go to hell.” 

It is, decidedly, the wrong answer, of course. His eyes darken, and he ruts inside you out of spite, spilling himself with a growl and his teeth in the curve of your neck. You feel the scalding hot rush inside you, the impossible fullness. It is good, and you are this close as he shudders against you, but in the end it’s just not enough.  

You keen miserably as his slick length slides from you, leaving you filled with his cum, utterly wrecked yet still unsatisfied. He wipes his tip across your belly, marking you.

Men.

“You are the stubbornest fucking woman I’ve ever met,” he grumbles low in your ear.

It sends a shiver across your skin.

You have to try twice before you find your voice.

“Thank you.”

He actually laughs, a harsh, disbelieving bark as he shakes his head at you. You watch as he goes to turn off the bath taps, the tub finally full, thoroughly enjoying the view despite how he’s left you. He steps into the water, turning so that he can see you with his arms on the rim of the tub.

You take some pleasure in the fact that he doesn’t look quite satisfied either.

Though your legs barely work, you slide down to the floor with a glare, intending to use the shower instead, away from him. You feel his seed dripping from you, down your thighs in warm thick rivulets. He didn’t ask if you are on birth control, and you’re grateful for your IUD, feeling like you’re armed with a secret weapon. If he means to bind you further to him with bearing his child…he’ll be disappointed. You decide right then that’s a card you’ll play close to your vest.

You take one step towards the shower before he makes a sound of warning low in his throat, and you freeze in your tracks. “In here,” he directs, and you close your eyes with wariness. Of course, that was the deal you’d made with the devil, and he’d warned you not to break an agreement with him.

He’s going to torture you more, you reckon, with his mouth or his fingers or maybe even that magnificent cock again, and you just don’t think your body can take it.

You’re not sure your heart can take it, either.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Resigned to your fate, you go, sinking into the warm water. It would have been wonderful, you know, if your every nerve had not already been on fire.

You hover up to your neck in the deep tub, trying to relax and succeeding only by half. “Come here,” says your beautiful tormentor, holding out his hand to you. The invitation is deceptively gentle this time. Mr. Wick, the undisputed King of Hot and Cold.

“You are such an asshole,” you inform him as you take his hand, letting him pull you into the circle of his arms against his chest.

“So you tell me,” he says with his lips against your temple, his arm around your waist holding you to him. “You might be a tiger kitten, but you’re still just a kitten.” He almost sounds proud about it. “I’m going to win in the end.”

You’re afraid he’s right, but you’re not ready to surrender just yet.

[lizzy06]

Kaminari Denki x Reader Fic Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

watt and bothered/ tumblr✨💖  by  @andypantsx3/ andypantsx3 (oneshot, fluff, humor, smut(u can skip the smut if u prefer sfw)) For years, you’ve been valiantly battling the world’s most annoying frat bro in the apartment above you. Only, it turns out he’s not a frat bro. And also he’s hot. And also he’s—what the fuck. [COMPLETED]

Sleepwalker✨✨💖 by Fogfire/ @dira333 (oneshot, fluff) When you wake up in a stranger's bed, you don't expect it to be Chargebolt, Pro Hero. You even less expect it to happen again. But who knew what a faulty Quirk could do… [COMPLETED]

Head over Heels for you✨✨💖 by Fogfire/ @dira333 (oneshot, fluff) It's a good thing Denki gets loopy from Painkillers. Or how one accidental confession leads to something more… [COMPLETED]

In Your Arms/tumblr✨ by @alaskasmonsters/ alaskasmonsters (oneshot, fluff) Denki had become a lot more touchy lately with you, constantly seeking out touch from you specifically and you are slowly losing your mind about it… [COMPLETED]

Truth or Dare ✨by orphan_account(oneshot, fluff) You really, really wanna win this game. [COMPLETED]

I will keep on loving you✨✨ by FujisMina63 (fluff, angst, idiots in love) A Fan-fic about what if Denki loses himself to his quirk, but you still stay with him. [COMPLETED]

BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 5: Drawing on Skin✨ by @writing-freak (oneshot, soulmate AU, fluff) anything you write on your skin shows up on the skin of your soulmate. you often draw the attention of others due to the crazy doodles, scribbles, and words written all over you from head to toe. [COMPLETED]

deal✨ by @candychronicles (oneshot, Soulmate Au, fluff) in a world full of heroes and quirks, finding someone you can love is very, very hard. it’s even harder when you have a soulmate and the words that are tattooed on you are a nightmare. but still, even in this strange world, love finds a way. [COMPETED]

Favor/ tumblr✨ by ScatteredScribbles (oneshot, fluff) The smile is back, and you’re surprised at how that observation alone is enough to make your skin tingle. It’s just leftover bits of electricity, you tell yourself. When he drapes his arm across your shoulder though, your stomach leaps, and you begin to doubt the validity of your own argument. [COMPLETED]

You're Sexy, I'm Sexy by midnightweeds (weedswrites) (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) “What did you say?” Bakugo asks, still holding his full glass. “After she said-”.[COMPLETED]

Deity Of Light- Kaminari Denki X Apollo! Reader✨ by Lady Blast Execution (Florboo) (oneshot, mythology AU, fluff)“Okay… Now I would like to have an explanation sunshine…. Who exactly are you?” [COMPLETED]

Scarred. by UltraGari(oneshot, comfort) “Can I touch them?”. [COMPLETED]

Seasons Changing by itbeajen(oneshot, hanahaki disease au, angst with happy ending) His only hope was that maybe your feelings would change to match his. [COMPLETED]

Lightning in a Bottle || BNHA by sincerely_bubbles (oneshot, fluff) denki kaminari has a crush, and when she’s around he can’t quite control his thoughts… or his quirk. [COMPLETED]

The "girlfriend" by @katimagines (oneshot, fluff) denki has a girlfriend, except she goes to a different school and no one, absolutely no one believes him. [COMPLETED]

Be Mine by @onyxiana-is-obsessed (oneshot, fluff) Denki’s been crushing on you for a while now and you just don’t seem to pick up on it! So, he asks you out on a date! For real this time! [COMPLETED]

insecure by @shinaus (angst, eventual fluff, mentions of insecurities) Denki Kaminari was in love. He knew it, his friends knew it, his other classmates knew it, but you certainly didn’t catch on to it. [COMPLETED]

Yakitori Time/ tumblr✨ by @vanilladyfics/ Vanillady (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Denki Kaminari was born with the first words his soulmate will say to him on his chest. They tell him exactly where they'll meet-- a yakitori restaurant-- but not when. [COMPLETED]

Confetti Love by atsukashii(oneshot, fluff) When Kaminari surprises you with tickets to see your favorite band for your birthday, you finally tell him how you feel in the best way how. [COMPLETED]

Safe by silkylious (oneshot, fluff) Three in the morning. Who the hell would text you at ass o’clock in the morning? You knew who. [COMPLETED]

Why are you so pretty? by Shooting_Stars_Library (oneshot, fluff) Denki is too pretty for the reader to handle. [COMPLETED]

he's a keeper by secretpeachtea (oneshot, fluff) 5 times your boyfriend gives you the wrong gift (+ the one time he gets it right). [COMPLETED]

A Shock to See by bakusquadup (fluff) Kaminari has always had an obsession with cute girls, so when he gets a girlfriend outside UA, you are not surprised in the least. However, when you discover something about his new-found girlfriend, it's hard to remain supportive. [COMPLETED]

Discoveries by cxsmicdxst (oneshot, fluff) “Hey, (y/n), are you alright there? You’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past three minutes.” [COMPLETED]

Shellshocked by @sunflowershouto It’s the training camp, and Denki is sheltered in the building along with the other students that failed the practical. When he hears that the villains are after two particular students, he has to do something to protect the one he loves. [COMPLETED]

Love Me Back by @lordsister (oneshot, fluff) "Please, (y/n)!!! I promise it’ll be fun!”. “My answer is the same as the last twenty times you asked me.” [COMPLETED]

[putrid-sex-machine]

KiNKTOBER DAY 28 ❀ LEON

PROMPT: fucking machine, sex pollen & dub-con

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut (obv), dub-con (typical sex pollen stuff), sex pollen, monster fucking, plant monster, leon is a bottom idk what to tell u

A/N: what can i say, i love torturing leon kennedy<3. I'll be honest, the first version got away from me a little... This is how the fic was originally planned to go, i'm not sure how i got so side tracked lol. anyways, hope you enjoy!! (^_^) art is by @citrine-elephant (lmk if u dont want me using ur art here)

check out the alternative version of this fic here

this fic has nsft content. you have been warned.

Leon's only consolation was that he didn't do this to himself. Not this time at least. He was pushed into this. Tackled, really, by a B.O.W. with more limbs than he'd care to count. Or vines he supposes.

And to think things were going smoothly.

He'd been tasked with the investigation of what was rumored to be a Neo-Umbrella lab, and Leon had been too quick to assume safety, assume the place was empty as it seemed. It was open, empty, and the electricity miraculously still worked – practically a cakewalk. Aside from the absurd amount of plant growth that is.

Thinking this would be easy, though, turned out to be his first mistake.

Now he finds himself strapped into what (uncomfortably enough) seems to be a birthing chair, his legs forceably pulled apart to expose him. He'd be more bothered had he not been drunk off his ass on whatever unknown pollen-like substance fills the strange glass capsule hes now trapped in. Worse yet is his body's response to it all. He's hard, unbearably so. He'd find it humorous if the situation weren't so humiliating. He hasn't had a proper hard on in ages, (he can thank whiskey for that) yet this of all things has managed to do it for him. Pathetic.

A robotic female voice rings out, "Stage One completed. Stand clear of the Containment Area and prepare for Stage Two."

Whatever that means, Leon has no interest in staying to find out. He tries to jerk his arms free of the metal cuffs holding him, but its so hard to think, so hard to move, restraints aside. His body feels heavy and hot, betraying his mind and refusing to obey him. Still, Leon refuses to give in. He continues struggling against his binds, searching for some loose piece, something he can take advantage of. Nothing

"Stage Two activated," says the uncannily monotone voice. As if on cue (which, yeah, it probably is) a loud beep fills the capsule, followed by another wave of the intoxicating pollen. Leon hisses, steadying himself. He's already been exposed to the gas -- or whatever this is, he doesn't need anymore. He draws in several fast breaths, rapidly as he can. He then takes as deep a breath as he can manage, starting from his diaphragm to fill his stomach before letting it expand in his chest. He holds it, starting a mental count. He's trained with holding his breath for extended periods before, a useful skill to have in this line of work, but holding your breath on land is a lot harder than underwater. Without the diving reflex to slow his heartbeat plus his lack of preparation time, Leon estimates he has only about 3 minutes left.

But the machine seemingly had other ideas. Two large metal clamps slam down on his ribs, forcing the breath out of him and securing him further to the chair. He's given no choice but to inhale, coughing and sputtering as he fights to take a lungful of air with his chest unable to fully expand.

"Stage Two completed. Beginning Stage Three," Leon distantly hears, suddenly too dizzy to think. All he can focus on is the intoxicating sweetness of the pollen filling his nose, on how painfully hard hes become, on how restricting and hot his clothes are. As if on command, cool metal of the machine dips down to his stomach, running a blade along the cloth and graciously freeing his erection. He groans, hips instinctively tilting upwards as far as Leon can manage, desperate for friction.

Again, the machine seemingly hears his internal pleas, a small whirl ringing out before he's met with an incredible vibrating warmth around his cock, the sensation alone almost enough to make him cum.

"O-oh fuck--" Leon whines, unable to stop himself. His hips jerk up, gasping as he inhales more of that delicious pollen.

There's another whirl, this time followed by a slick, cold prodding sensation against his ass. He whines, allowing his legs to be spread even further by the machine as the artificial cock slides in. When it begins to vibrate Leon knows hes done for, crying out as he cums, barely registering the high-tech flesh-light sucking every last drop up. Even then it doesn't stop, the dildo continuing to pound into him lazily as it's vibrations intensify. It doesn't stop when he cums again either, it doesn't stop when he's crying, screaming and thrashing against his restraints, brows pulled taught as he whines uselessly in over stimulation. His hips continue to jerk up in time with the flesh-light, body betraying him as he fights to escape the overwhelming pleasure.

Every time he thinks he's finished, that he can't possibly cum again he does, that wonderful pollen filling his lungs and hardening his cock with ease. Gradually Leon finds himself drifting off, having lost track of how many orgasms he's had forced out of him, of how long he's been here. He's stopped caring too. He has no thoughts anymore. No perception of time. No worries. Getting out of here doesn't seem important anymore. This is good. This is right. Leon was made for this.

This is his new home.

[magicalrocketships]

ok im ready to be converted. what f1 fics do u recommend to start my full brain rot?

EXCELLENT, my plan is working (make people like what I like). Here is a very small and somewhat random selection, mostly Daniel/Max except where stated. Extremely loosely grouped. I've said if they're focused on them racing (grid), even if it's an AU. I have not associated anyone's ao3 handle with their tumblr name, so apologies for that. Do come back and tell me your thoughts and feelings. (!!)

F1 TASTING MENU (Maxiel Flavour)

Amuse Bouche: an opening vid

maxiel x 2022 season - “i would just draw it at like, i wouldn’t say love” by @daniel-enchante

Starters (shorter (ish) fics)

Cool Things to Say to Your Soulmate - words by powerfulowl, art by loveleah (grid, E): Only dumbasses get goosed. If a Soulmate Goose of Enforcement comes to intervene in your love life, it is a clear sign you have fucked up. You’re so bad at navigating human relationships that the universe thinks a violent waterfowl impervious to damage and capable of walking through walls will actually improve the situation. 

i carry your heart with me by capsize (grid, M): “What’s up little guy?” Daniel asks – because like his car, Max’s heart is a boy too – and moves the heart from the desk into his lap. “Is Max not paying attention to you? He can be a bit of a cunt, yeah? No, I know.” Or, five times someone found Max’s heart, and one time they kept it.

Just kissed you hello by charlotte_stant (grid, M): Everything freezes for a long moment—and then Daniel’s heart is back to beating and it’s fine, he can see how funny the situation is. “Maximus, my brother, my comrade,” he says, “what the fuck, mate. I’m not gay, ok?"

Amuse Bouche: another vid

max and daniel at redbull by @love-leah

Main Course (longer fics)

Good To You by TheNorthRemembers (grid, E): Max walks and talks like he has a big dick. He always has, and it’s not like Daniel ever really thought about Max’s dick, but he just- He assumed, maybe. That the equipment would match the attitude. That at the very least what Max is packing, would be completely average. The fact, that apparently it’s not- Well. Daniel doesn’t know what to do with that information, in more ways than one. Or: Max a small dick, Daniel is into it; lots of sex and a bit of angst ensue

my kind's your kind by hardlythewiser (grid, series, E, Max/Kelly/Daniel, resolving with Max/Daniel): Max can talk about it now, out of bed, casual. Kelly helped him practice, talking about it like it was just another activity, like her tennis lessons or nights out with friends, ever since that first time. But she doesn't say anything now.

To the Victor Belong the Spoils by powerfulowl (hunger games AU, E): Daniel didn’t kill anyone in the arena. He’s the one untarnished Hunger Games victor. The beautiful boy who stole the hearts of Panem with a fishing net and a smile. He can kiss babies and sell sun cream and fuck who they tell him to fuck and suck on the fingers that feed him– he’s not gonna bite. But then Max wins the Hunger Games. Max bites.

Amuse Bouche: vid time

"what's going on between you and max verstappen?" by @love-leah

Dessert (where the focus is on sex)

Sweeter than I ever knew by purples_all_the_way_down (grid, girls, E): Daniel has never had an orgasm. Somehow (Charles, it's always Charles), Max gets involved. Things get complicated.

I just want to know you like nobody ever has by 33Max (grid, E): They are in the bathroom, Daniel had insisted that he needed a shower if they were going to do this. He’s still damp, Max hadn’t even waited for him to dry himself off before he was pushing Daniel against the counter and dropping to his knees behind him.

Coffee (something different)

both hands tied on the wheel by kayshea (George Russell/Toto Wolff, grid, E): George feels, stupidly, like a cat that’s been stroked. Like his skin is electric. It’s what everyone has been saying to him all day, but it feels different, somehow, coming from Toto.

if i should come upon your house lonely by withfeathers (Lewis Hamilton/Hanna Prater/Sebastian Vettel, grid, E): The summer after Sebastian's retirement, Lewis visits Switzerland for a week. Nothing about it goes as he expected.

[pineappleciders]

hihi! i just found your blog because of your Eddsworld x reader post and it was so cute, i love how you write for the characters. i also saw that your requests were open, and i was wondering if you could write the main 4 boys with gn!s/o that is a singer/songwriter and plays different instruments like piano and guitar. thank you <3

EW main 4 with a musical S/O

includes: edd, tom, matt, and tord

A/N: i am assuming you meant the ew main 4 as you mentioned it!!!! apologies if it isn't what you meant :P also thank you :))

edd

he 100% spies on you when you're rocking out or writing songs. like he thinks it's so interesting. he would just ask to watch but he knows you wouldn't want someone hovering over you while you do your thing

he looves to draw you playing the guitar in his sketchbook,, like he already draws u a lot but he has little shitty doodles of you playing instruments and singing on his wall with lil music notes and everything

lots of music puns.

"hey- hey Y/N. what do you call a musician with problems?"

"what?"

"a trebled man."

if you ever fully produce and release a song, he makes a little animation to it and put a drawing of him smooching u on the cheek at the end. (iknow this is really specific but tell me u don't see this happening)

claps for you when you sing. like in a crowd he'd stand up and clap really obnoxiously and yell "YEAHH WOOOHOOOO GO Y/N" n it'd be really embarrassing

"hey, you see that person- right- right up there? yeah, yeah that's my S/O. i know, they're so great." he says to the person next to him with tears in his eyes

karaoke nights. you two go to a karaoke bar and sing your hearts out. he's absolutely awful at singing but he LOVES it

tom

your guitar and susan have a makeshift wedding, and tom is crying the entire time, walking susan down the aisle while you play wedding music

if you started like shredding on an electric guitar or bass he'd just sit on the bed and ogle like a lovestruck idiot. like he's soooooo in love

he's super impressed, and he'll say it sometimes but be all awkward about it

"you're really good at that stuff, Y/N. i mean- seriously, it's impressive." he's like looking away and scratching his neck

he low-key feels kinda insecure about his own music skills. i think he'd like to write his own songs but hates sharing them, and he's kinda mediocre at playing the bass so when he sees you absolutely destroying the piano or something he deflates

asks you to help him get better at guitar,, which ends up with you like. holding his hands over the correct position on it behind him and it's super awkward and he gets really flustered

you both write songs about each other and you both nearly faint when you see each others songs

sometimes he gets shit-faced and shows up at your door like crying with his bass and a whole speaker system set up outside and just plays a love song he made for you while sobbing his 'eyes' out

matt

he's like, insisting that you play professional classical music or something. like his eyes are glittering talking about having a duet together on stage

he probably has like a play about himself and he begs you to play the music for it

he's constantly asking you to play him stuff. like every now and then he asks you to sing him a lullaby when he goes to bed and he falls asleep in your lap

or sometimes he asks you to play a popular pop song on guitar, and he sings along (albeit terribly)

speaking of singing, he ALWAYS starts singing when he hears you singing or humming. like it's a reflex to sing along. he sheepishly apologizes if you deadpan at him though

when introducing you to someone he wraps his arm around your waist or shoulder and pulls you close and flashes a shiny grin, showing you off

"heh, yeah, this is my S/O, they're a singer and musician. they can play the guitar, piano, violin.. yeah, i'm a pretty cool guy- i mean! uh, they're, pretty cool. yeah. that's what i said."

when the person starts talking to you about your talent goes to you he'll whine and try to get their attention back on him. he knows you're super cool and awesome and have an amazing voice and a beautiful face but this is about HIM and HIS beautiful face!!!

tord

sometimes he walks in on you strumming your guitar or singing a little tune, and he'll lean on the doorway with his arms crossed just listening

he thinks it's super cool, and sometimes he'll ask you to play one of his favorite songs

subconsciously starts humming your songs around the house, and might get a little flustered if you mention it

definitely borrowed your guitar one time and probably broke one of the strings. he got absolutely terrified and locked himself in his room waiting for you to get home

"tord! i'm home! what's- *gasp*"

absolutely quaking in his boots. safe to say he got a good smack on the head and had to pay to get it repaired

he loves to listen to you sing or play piano through the walls. he finds it less awkward than being in the same room, and the muffled effect makes it strangely calming

like matt he pulls you close and brags about your talents to people you meet. with a huge grin too. he thinks he looks so cool but he actually looks like a huge douchebag

he actually looks like a huge douchebag in general. but he's your huge douchebag🥰

this is random but i feel like all of them are the type to show up outside your window in the middle of the night, hold a speaker over their head and play peter gabriel to win ur love. they're such fuckung geeks

[slowdive1994]

*edit: i have decided if you requested partner in crime, venice bitch, or waiting room yours will be done last just for efficiency so i can get through the quicker ones first <33*

hii i just wanted to share some of my new year’s resolutions as preparation for 2024😭😭

 learn guitar, read at least (!!!) a book a month, improve my drawing, improve my cooking skills, eat healthy, make the most of term 2, be so alive it aches, be more open and engaged with people and connection, laugh lots, cry hard, be present, be a bit less bitchy to my parents learn to crochet, care less about what other people think, study hard and try to be passionate about what i’m learning, go for walks in the nature, etas lots of strawberry sorbet and ice cream and dance in the rain :)

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

~dandy’s 200 celebration!!~

ahhh first of all thank you so much for 200 followers! thats actually insane i love you guys so much <33

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

silk chiffon - i give you a list of things that remind me of you!

ribs - i make you a (small) playlist!

waiting room- i make you a moodboard based on your blog or personality!

not strong enough - i write you a letter (mutuals only)

you’re so fucking pretty - i guess what you look like based on ~vibes~! no longer available i got bored lmao

lacy - you ask me to listen to a song and i tell you what i think!

all i wanted - i make you a small drawing of your choice (preferably people i suck at drawing anything else)!

casual - i give you music recs! edit: i think i’ll use this one to recommend smaller artists so would love if anyone asks for this!!!!

american teenager - i give you book/tv show recs!

partner in crime - i design you an outfit using pinterest!

venice bitch - i design you a room using pinterest!

not a lot, just forever - you tell me a problem and i give you advice!

coming of age - i give you an artist, album, and song that reminds me of you!

false god - i shuffle my playlist until i find a song that gives your vibes + give you my fave lyric from it!

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

followers only

send requests in asks please

limit of two requests per ask

there’s no overall request limit

this will probably end by february bc that when i start school again

<3333

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

@astraeasparrow @literatureisdying @leaskisses444 @zzzzzzzzzee @tellme-o-muse@xgirlidiotx @lalallorona @crowgenius @my-cages-were-mental @none-of-it-was-accidental @imswimmingback @a-portal-to-nowhere @emailsicntsend@5ducksinatrenchcoat @recklessandyoung @waitingforthesunrise @radio-silencepdf@pho3b3-tayl0r-luvr @ineedibuprofen @emilybrontesghost @moonartemisandstar@gayoticbeing @photogenic-strawberry @maxdamax @august-taylors-version@svnflowermoon @the-turtle-fan @dcfcyay @mandythedino @holdmyteaplease@strawberryloveyyy @imperpetuallylost @bookscorpion73 @skeelly @swiftieannah@channnnnieee555 @strats-blood @vams225 @the-smiley-blue-axolotl@mushroomcarrotstick @waiting-down-the-hall-for-me @niallermybabe @pazoo-underscore@personifiedgoldenretriever@thebestieyoureinlovewith@electric-sheeeep @if-i-could-give-u-the-moon@fire-but-ashes-tootoo @trying-to-be-cool-abt-itit @brenninthetaylorverse@shortgaything @cc-horan28 @isitoversnowtvs@my-mind-is-frozen@giveuthemo0n @evazlana @someones-name-inserted-here- @the-stars-sing@aaalixaf@photogenic-strawberry @qwerty-keysmash @coco6420 @evermore-4-life@eden-crowley-fellfell @trashmeowcan@parasite-2-2 @folklore-girlgirl @urbanflorals @nqds @judeisthedude @returnofthecabbageman @thats-the-power-of-love @stvrlighhttt @enchanting-grom-fright @imslowlydisintegrating @loving-the-marauders @loveisaseriousmentaldisease @dicklesssswonder @bassguitarinablackt-shirt

uhhh that’s a long list of most of my mutuals i think ahh sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged please tell me if you want to be added/removed

omg i’m insane why’d i tag that many people IM SORRYYY (it’s the notes app list istg)

[bugsysaboy]

Alright, fellow 5 Kite stans, I got some more headcanons to submit to the council for approval.

(Aka headcanons post part 2, electric boogaloo. Reposting because I have more thoughts)

No content warnings, sfw

-actually understands cybersecurity, his passwords are all unique and actually random combinations of numbers and letters and somehow he never forgets which password goes where (never writes it down, either.)

-speaking of writing...

-my man CANNOT write poetry. Very bad at it. Painfully bad at it.

-he's really good at drawing animals! However! He is somehow 100 percent incapable of drawing people.

-he will sing for someone he loves and nobody else. If you drag him to karaoke, nothing will get him on stage.

-His singing voice is warm and quiet, healing to listen to when you lay against his chest.

-if you sing for him, his heart will melt. It doesnt matter if you are or aren't a good singer; he'll love every moment of it. (Not even necessarily in a romantic sense, he just finds it endearing.)

-favorite color is powder blue

-favorite smell is lavender

-and his favorite tea is chamomile lavender tea

-you ever look at someone and can instantly tell they have stomach issues? Yeah.

-no matter what, he is always at least a lil bit confused when he wakes up. It doesn't matter if he fell asleep in his own bed, he's gonna wake up like "???" and will never know where he is. Takes him a solid minute to actually gather his bearings, too. Don't try to start a conversation with him when he wakes up; he's not gonna process a single thing that you say.

- this dude is s t u b b o r n

- That being said, one thing he is good about doing is admitting when he fucked up. Like, can he be a bit overconfident and prideful at times? Yes, but when he's humbled or makes a mistake, he'll own up to it without hesitation.

- when he's flustered he pulls down his hat!!!

-if he really loves someone he might just stare at them for a long time, which sounds cute in theory but in practice he's just watching you sleep or staring at you from the other side of the room with an unreadable expression on his face and it's!!! Unnerving! But we love him for that <3

-...he doesnt realize it's unnerving

-in my last post I said he would like soup but also! This dude would rock with congee so hard.

-doesn't cry easily, not in the "I'm trying to disconnect myself from my emotions" kind of way but more in the sense that it just takes a lot for him to tear up. He's a very resilient individual, and things don't tend to throw him off.

-Firm believer in the saying of "fall down seven times, get up eight."

-On the rare occasions that he does cry, he's beautiful when he cries; his face is slightly flushed and the tears fall gracefully down his cheeks. He doesn't tend to make any noise and will just stare off into space.

-He also just can't seem to cry in front of other people easily.

-he had very slight esotropia of his right eye. His bottom lashes are disproportionately thick, but also his eyebrows are sparse.

-He has a few very faint freckles on his nose and cheeks, the kind you can only see when you shine a light directly onto his skin and look very closely.

-he has a slight overbite

-and prominent dark circles, the kind that come from poor vascular circulation.

-AND SPEAKING OF CIRCULATION

-DUDE'S HANDS ARE ALWAYS ICE COLD.

-IT'S LIKE TOUCHING COLD METAL WHEN YOU SHAKE HIS HAND.

-THE KIND OF COLD THAT CAN MAKE YOU FLINCH.

-but hey

-cold hands are an excuse to hold hands.

[swagliostro]

hiii!! i dont know if you can help here but one of my friends really wants to know the source of this image ⬇️ and i figured you probably know more than i do because i couldnt find anything about it anywhere ;_;

im not sure if its an official piece of promo art or just something someone drew or etc . any help is appreciated if u know anything about it :)

(ps do you still have ur electric dreams soundtrack vhs tape? would it be ok if i messaged u for the link?) thank you!!

Ohhh I hate to say it so much but for as thorough as I am about everything to come from this movie… this is the ONE image that has stumped me as well. I’ve dug around for this one A LOT and I’ve even sent out a batch of emails to people looking for a source!

The most I can tell you is that this illustration is very likely to be official… probably a piece of the movie that just wasn’t ultimately used for promotion all over. The main artists who made promotional illustrations for the movie were E. Sciotti and Malinowski, so there’s a high chance it was drawn by one of them if it’s all for real (My money would be on Sciotti since he did more than one drawing for them). That’s really all I have! Unless someone gets back to me, though I’ve been waiting a pretty long time for that… maybe I’m due for some follow-ups.

If I’m lucky maybe sometime I can update this post to say I found the source!

And yes, you can message me :)

[froggyy]

hey tell me about your oc <3

YESSSS FINALLY YESSYESYEYSYEYS teeheeee okkk since u so graciously asked. i have a little info card kinda its not the in depth tho

SHES PUNK !!! obv lmao i love her dearly

based off the rick and morty universe but i imagine her to be where ever the fuck she wants bc yknow portal guns n stuff also cuz i can. she has an affinity for snaaakes and has an albino ball python named banana [tattoo is of him] bc hes yellowww. plays electric guitar and has a super cool awesome motorcycle that i havent fleshed out bc idk how to draw motorcycles. also has a crap ton of custom helmets [themed off of her silly interests] to go with it. into the many many sciences specifically biology and engineering and i like tall women so shes 6ft