#everyones like shes a side char!!

[chernabogs]

Every time a new chapter drops on jp everyone needs to know the way I'm silently manifesting a single crumb of maleficia

[lifesizejosuke]

can you imagine where after the third asoiaf book instead of following up with What Happens Next, grrm just writes a novella called a Feast of Frostlight where the lannisters have a winter solstice party and have to give each other gifts. as much as i play in sjm’s face i think that would have fucking ruled actually.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-five —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

A hand grips your shoulder. "We'll take care of them. Keep low and find a place for all of you to hide. Do not come out until we say."

His words blur together, but you manage to act accordingly, ignoring the pit in your stomach when he disappears around the truck. The concrete is covered in glass and rusted debris, so you keep low without letting your knees touch the ground and motion for the others to follow.

The closest place is an old café, the door closed with chains but the glass window shattered enough for you to crawl through. You pull the knife from your ankle as you move everyone behind the cash register, gripping the handle tight once you lean your back against it. The café is quiet. Still. No one else is here. You steady your breath. Staring at you are the double doors to the kitchen in the back, a thick waft of mold radiating, and behind you are tipped-over chairs and tables.

The noise outside has drifted. When you take a quick peek, you don't see anyone near the truck anymore. It is as if the three of them have followed whoever was shooting.

"Twix, I—"

You look back. Blue is holding her hand out, a shard of glass thrust in her palm.

Blood oozes.

You have no supplies on you, but you carefully pinch the glass between your thumb and forefinger. She bites her lip as it wriggles free, releasing another gush of blood. As if on cue, the kitchen doors burst open with ear-splintering screeches, and three Greys surge toward you.

Blue's bloodied hand reaches for her ankle knife as one tackles you, grinding your spine into the counter's edge. Two gunshots ring out over the snarling in your face. You thrust your arm against its throat, keeping the chomping jaws at bay, and with your other hand, stab the knife into its skull three times, until it whines like a dying animal.

When you shove the corpse to the tile floor, you see the two others on the ground. Blue is pulling her knife from one skull, and Ari has a gun in his hand.

"I only have one more bullet," he pants, double-checking the barrel.

"Someone could've heard the gunshots," Nereida whispers frantically.

"Then we find somewhere else to hide. Come on." Your eyes land on a graffitied door on the side wall. It leads into an alleyway that smells putrid. You motion for Ari to give you the gun as you lead the way, sandwiched between brick walls. You can still hear rounds firing from the street. They stutter in sync with your heartbeat.

You shove a rusted crate that blocks the path. You catch sight of movement, and something scurries between your boots. Blue squeaks and grips Ari's arm, your hand tightening on the gun—but it's only a raccoon.

"There."

You spot a sizable dumpster around the corner, where the narrow alley widens enough for cars to pass behind the buildings. Nereida helps you shove off the debris on top and heave open the lid. A thick waft of rot rises, along with a buzz of fruit flies. The dumpster is half-filled with blackened garbage and charred bones, but no Greys. You don't have time to find another spot as two male voices echo from down the alley.

"I heard it over here!"

"Let's check, come on."

Shit.

You lace your fingers for Blue to step on them. "Quick, get in."

Once the kids are inside, Nereida grabs the edge and hoists herself up. You glance back, stomach coiling as two shadows approach the corner. Quickly, you close the lid after her, scatter the debris back on top, and scurry behind a nearby crate, palm sweaty around the gun.

A fevered study of the shadows reveals two healthy, fit men. One bullet. Something in the second one's gait seems slightly off. You make a split-second decision, peek over the crate, and aim for the first man's chest, doubting your ability to land a headshot.

He falls dead with a thud and then you are launching blindly at the second man with your knife, but you fail to pierce flesh when a strong grip snatches your wrist. The man's rifle skids across the ground and your back is slammed against the wall, your skull colliding with the brick hard enough to make stars dance across your vision. A muscled forearm presses into your neck, effectively cutting off your air.

"Fucking bitch."

Even through the blood rushing between your ears, the growl in your face is—familiar.

You blink up at a man swallowed by a massive burn scar.

The tip of his nose is gone, with eyelashes and scalp burnt away, revealing poorly healed ripples of flesh.

One eyelid fails to open properly, the skin too scarred.

The recognition unfurls your eyes.

He presses harder. "I know you, don't I?" Anger cuts through his gaze. "Ah. That's right—a thief and a killer. You're full of surprises, sweetheart." The curl on his burnt lips makes you flinch, but there is nowhere to go. "I guess you found new friends."

"I guess—I guess you did... too..." Short gasps leave your mouth.

"Shut up," he growls. "I don't want to hear a word from a stuck-up bitch like you who thinks her tits and her cunt are worth more than my goddam face." He is yelling now, spit flying in your eyes. "Don't you dare look away from it! What, not proud of your handiwork?" He breathes hard and looks you over with a snigger. "Finding you is just my luck. I was going to go easy the first time, but now I think I'll kill you then enjoy you. How's that sound? Your corpse being passed around? Hope your cunt is as good when you're dead—"

White-hot anger ripples through your veins and you snarl before hurling a wad of saliva in his face, using the brief distraction to drive your knee into his groin. He staggers back enough for you to escape his hold and push away from the wall.

Gulps of air feel painful down your throat. You back away, readjusting the hold on your knife while he rubs his eyes furiously. 

"You're sick," you growl, voice hoarse and low. 

"And you're not, princess?"

"I'm not a goddamn rapist."

"You ruined my fucking face," he retorts, stalking you down the alley. At least you are drawing him away from their hiding place—you make an unnoticed glance at the dumpster to ensure no one else has approached, relieved to see the lid unmoved. When your eyes flick back to him, a sick curl twitches on his lips. "You're not innocent here. You're damned like everyone else. That ride of yours now has a shot tire, and that boat—" he chuckles, "—what? Thought you were gonna get out of this hell? We made sure to put a hole in that, too."

His words sink in. 

For a moment, horror grips you.

But you channel it through your veins as something useful—rage—and launch at him without abandon. He anticipates an attempt to stab his side again, so he blocks there, but instead, you reach for his marred face and claw the unhealed wounds, reopening them. He howls like an animal, stumbling back and cradling his cheek as blood seeps between his fingers. 

"I'm going to kill you, bitch—"

He blindly reaches for the rifle on the ground but you are quick to kick it away. You jump on him, this time bringing him to the concrete, which scrapes against your exposed skin as you wrestle to come out on top. But he is stronger. Heavier. For the second time you become pinned, he tries to dig his hands into your throat. The lack of oxygen threatens to turn the world black, but you slap a hand back on his face and rip off his scarred eyelid before it can.

He roars.

You spit in his face.

Your knife—you lost it in the midst.

As blood pours from his eye, you outstretch an arm and feel for the handle.

The leather is in your palm.

You stab his side.

You shove at his shoulder to get him off.

Then you pin him down, and plunge the knife over and over into every piece of him you find. Neck, chest, cheek, shoulder.

Again and again.

A slashed jugular. Ripped arteries.

Your vision is consumed by blood. You let yourself drown in it. Hot, thick—

Arms grab you by the waist and lift you into the air.

You attempt to wriggle free and dig your knife in them, but the person is quick to disarm you.

"Twix." 

A skull face stares down at you. Your bloodied fingers wrap around Ghost's shirt as you pant heavily. It's him. He's here. 

"Where are they?" he shouts over the ringing in your ears.

He sets you down, gripping your shoulders to steady you. It takes a moment to gather your senses, to comprehend his words. Your hands, shirt, and face are drenched in blood. Your head throbs with weight. Slowly, the world snaps back into focus. You glance around, spotting Kyle and Price standing behind him.

"There," you finally breathe out. "The dumpster. They're...they're in there. Safe. They're safe."

His eyes flick over the length of you, perhaps to ensure all of the blood is not yours, before the three of them thrash off the debris and lift the lid to the dumpster around the corner. They help out Nereida, Ari, and Blue. 

"Ghost." You try to swallow, but the pain hums with each attempt. His eyes snap to yours just as he checks over Blue. "He... They've shot a tire."

"I know. I've got a spare."

"The kayak, too. How are we—"

"We figure that out later. We need to leave." Price slings the rifle over his shoulder and grabs his wife by the arm. "Those fucks are going to be drawn straight to us now."

Blood. Right. 

You push through the ache in your head and run after them back to the truck. The absence of gunfire signifies everyone else has been taken care of, but just as predicted, a chorus of moans begins to filter through the buildings. From windows, underneath cars, and benches—Greys begin to crawl out. The faster ones are quickly shot by either Kyle's handgun or Ghost's rifle. Price helps everyone into the car and slams the door shut as Ghost and Kyle continue firing.

"Wipe yourself, quick. And change inside." Price throws a rag at you. Your backpack.

You get into the passenger seat, wiping your face and hair with a splash of water from Blue's canteen, then toss the stained rag out onto the street.

You don't care if anyone can see as you slip off your shirt, throwing it out the window, and slipping on a clean one.

Outside, Price and Kyle shoot away any Greys that approach as you suspect Ghost is changing the blown out tire, because you can't see him even in the side mirror. 

Within ten minutes, he flings open the door and takes seat behind the wheel. This time Price and Kyle hop in the truck bed with their guns as Ghost starts the ignition with a loud rumble, veering sharply back onto the road. 

Time has been stolen. It is high afternoon, the sky a clear blue even though the streets you leave behind in Halstead are tainted red.

Now the map is in your hands, but Ghost seems to know the way from here.

"How long can the spare go for?"

"Long enough." His words are clipped. "But the kayak we need to figure out."

"It can't be fixed, can it?"

His silence is your response.

Your mind races.

Minutes blur. Behind you, Nereida quietly helps wrap Blue's hand.

Colchester whirls by without obstructions, but you keep looking out the window and squinting, paranoid. You make it to the coast within an hour. The buildings turn into colorful, seafaring cottages and the streets turn to uneven cobblestone. Seashell chimes dance in store fronts that are plastered with old signs reading KEEP OUT IF INFECTED. Ghost makes a sharp right down a narrow street and parks the truck in front of a lone, blue cottage that seems remote enough to be safe. Even if the kayak was fine, you'd have to stop for the night in order to get out on the water at the start of morning.

A flock of oystercatchers scatters as the truck doors slam open and close. The air, thick with salt and spume, is cooler here, the breeze tugging at your tangled hair, where bits of dried blood still clings. The view of the sandy shore and rocky pier would be beautiful, if your mind weren't elsewhere, if the day hadn't been marked by panic.

Ghost circles around to look at the kayak. "How bad is it?"

"Bad," Price mutters.

He helps him pull it out. 

Blue and Ari sit on the steps to of the cottage's porch and listen in silence. 

Nereida watches from beside you, tucking a sweater on against the chill.

Ghost flips the kayak, revealing a bullet hole that goes through one end and out the other. Anger radiates from his tense shoulders. "Christ."

"We can't patch it like we did the raft, can we?" Kyle asks, bending on his knees to look at the damage.

Price raps his knuckles against the hollow sides. "No, it's hard plastic. It would need welding to fix holes like that."

The understanding lingers in the air as you cross arms over your chest. "I'll stay behind, then," you speak up. Nails cutting your palms. You're damned like everyone else. Nereida looks at you with wide eyes, touching your arm. "If we can't fix it, then all we have is the raft and it only fits six. You guys take it in the morning and I will stay behind here—"

"No one is staying behind," Ghost grits fiercely. He gestures at the truck bed. "It doesn't even matter if we got rid of a person. The supplies have to fit, too. Even if we make it across, we're dead without the ammo and food."

Price trails his thumb over the hole in the plastic. "Two would have to stay behind in order for us to fit all the supplies." Your breath hitches as you watch him calmly stand up. "Or... two would have to swim."

"Swim?" you repeat. "You can't just swim it. I mean—it's open water."

"Nothing we haven't swam in before." Kyle leans against the side of the truck, crossing his arms. "But it's further across than the strait. Jesus, what is it? A 40, 50 kilometer swim?"

"Then we take turns," Price says. "Two of us at a time."

"I can take a turn," Nereida offers. "I used to swim in college. I mean, it can't be so bad if we go in intervals, and hold onto the raft."

You breathe deep, looking at the water that crashes upon the shore in the distance and then at Ghost, who is already staring at you. "I can take a turn, too."

"The three of us will start it off. If we need you two to cover, then you'll be ready to go. The kids stay in the raft."

You swallow. "It's not just about getting tired, we need plenty of water to drink. You can still get quickly dehydrated, and the temperature of the water—I mean, hypothermia can set in fast even it is warm."

"We load up on clean water tonight and have blankets and towels ready to go," Kyle says.

You glance back at Ghost. The rise and fall of his chest turns more steady as he nods his head in resignation.

"That's our only choice, then."

The evening is thick with silence.

No one has the energy for conversation, only exchanging brief requests or simple instructions. Starting a fire is risky even here, but you need clean water. A freshwater creek lies a few kilometers back, so Price and Ghost take the truck while the rest of you work on inflating the raft for tomorrow. Whatever happened between you and Kyle goes unspoken, both of you focused on the task at hand, taking turns pumping and checking the seams for anymore holes. When the two return, you help boil the water over a small wood-burning stove in the cottage, praying the smoke rising from the chimney isn’t too noticeable in the growing breeze as the sun sets.

The cottage is mostly bare, with only a dining table, a knocked-over chair, and a stripped bed frame in one of the rooms. The bathroom is quaint, its sea star wallpaper faded, and a warped mirror hangs above the sink. You stare at your reflection while the others lay out sleeping bags on the dusty floor, turning in early to conserve energy for the new plan to cross the channel. Ghost has taken first watch, sitting out on the porch with a rifle.

You listen to their soft murmurs outside the bathroom door as you work on getting out the rest of the blood in your hair. There is a red mark on your throat that is sore to the touch, and the back of your head still feels like someone has taken a hammer to it. Your eyes seem darker than the last time you saw them. You take another rag, wet it, and wipe it all over your skin. Then, you pad back out where the last lamp has been turned off and only moonlight through the boarded windows is left.

You slip into the empty sleeping bag next to Blue and stare at the ceiling. It is impossible to sleep—to even close your eyes for longer than a few seconds. Your heart refuses to even its pace, furiously pumping blood through your veins.

After an hour of lying still, the itch becomes intolerable. You slip silently from the sleeping bag, grab your backpack, and creep to the back door by the kitchen. It opens to a patch of overgrown grass. The cold air raises gooseflesh on your arms, but after emptying your bag, saving only the clothes, and tying it up on a branch, your blood runs hotter. Teeth gritted, you pound your fists into the makeshift punching bag, breathing hard through your nose to keep the noise to a minimum. 

You hit it until your lungs burn cold, and take a pause only to grab the backpack, close your eyes, and lean your forehead against it while breathing deeply. 

"I would say you can't sleep because you're excited for a swim tomorrow, but I know better."

His voice is just behind you, a rough murmur over the distant lapping sea.

You don't turn around. "I'm thrilled for it, actually."

A pause. Then, "Quite heroic of you. Offering to stay behind."

"I wasn't trying to be a hero. It just made the most sense."

You let out one last huff and then settle back into your stance, reopening your eyes to take another swing, but a hand on your wrist wretches you away. You glare up at him as he holds both of your closed fists, peering down at the raw, reddened knuckles.

You’re ready to argue—to tell him to leave you alone and let you hurt your own hands if you want to—but instead, he surprises you by letting go and stepping back. He chucks off his jacket and tosses it to the ground, unrivaled strength evident in the width of his bare, inked biceps. His feet widen, and his fists rise, silently beckoning you.

It’s been over a week since your last sparring session, but as soon as your fists are raised, the familiar rhythm takes over. He doesn’t hold back—not here, not ever. You abandon strategy, driven by the primal satisfaction of ramming your knuckles into his ribs. The adrenaline surge becomes the perfect distraction, each punch feeding your hunger for more. Your breath quickens, harsh and ragged, as you throw punch after punch. Most of your hits are deflected with effortless grace. He mirrors your every step, matching your intensity with his own.

He sweeps his leg out, sending you to your hands and knees. A growl escapes your lips as you spring back up.

He circles you like a vulture.

"I saw his face."

Cold sweat trickles down your bruised neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It was burned. Well, what was left of it. You fucked him up more than necessary." He lowers his fists, eyes locking onto yours with an intense scrutiny. Your nostrils flare as you aim a swipe at his jaw, but he catches your forearm, yanking you close until your chest is pressed against his. With a firm grip on your chin, he tilts your face upward, forcing your narrowed gaze to meet his."You can't hide, Twix. Not from me."

"He was the one who almost raped me, is that what you want to hear?" You dig your free hand into his chest. "And I killed him."

The shade of his irises darkens. "You did what you had to do—what I knew you could do when I left you. You protected yourself and the others."

"I enjoyed it. I wanted to kill him, and I have never wanted that before." You swallow through your sore throat and feel a subtle tremor up your spine as the fresh images brandish your mind. "I wanted to feel his blood on my hands, and if you hadn't stopped me, I would've kept going."

"He deserved it ten times over. I would've done the same."

"And what do I deserve?"

His voice is harsh. "You deserve to cross the channel tomorrow, and keep going. It was life or death. He got death, and you got life."

"And how much longer do I get it? Until the next time people start attacking us? The next horde of Greys? Even if we make it there alive, it will never be a normal life. I can never be a normal person again. Never. I feel like...like there is something broken and rotten inside of me, a-and maybe it was always there, like you said. But only now can I truly feel it."

By the last word, your voice has quieted to a harsh whisper. You avoid the stare bearing down at you by turning your chin. You failed to realize how close your faces have become. Your gaze drifts to the arm still holding you, prominent veins trailing beneath the inked skin, and you swear you can see a pulse in them as fast as your own. Heated breaths pass between your bodies in silence before you look back up at him.

"You murdered someone, didn't you?" you breathe out. "Before shit happened. Outside of the military. Actual murder."

His jaw ticks. "Yes. I did."

The blunt admission doesn't surprise you, nor does it frighten you.

He lowers his face a bit, enough for his exhalation to leave gooseflesh across your cheeks. "Ask me if I enjoyed it. Go on."

"Did you?"

"Very much so."

You swallow hard. "I guess you haven't been normal for a long time."

"No. I guess not," he murmurs.

The air feels thick between you. He studies you intently, fingers uncomfortably tight around your wrist, when the tip of his masked nose nudges tentatively—experimentally—against yours. Your breath hitches at the top of your throat. Your fingers absentmindedly slip under the hem of his mask on their own accord, peeling it up his neck to reveal a stubbled, scarred chin and full, pink mouth.

He doesn't move to stop you.  

You study the sight before you—one you didn't see so close up even when he broke his nose.

Then—the last thin thread of sanity within you snaps. With a surge of abandon, you firmly close your lips over his.

Heat instantly spreads through your mouth, through your limbs, and down to your socked toes. It is enough to flood you with the raw need to taste more of it. Your hands lower to twist tightly in the fabric of his shirt, drawing him closer, and for a moment, those warm lips move slowly against yours. Then, he firmly presses on your shoulder and breaks away with a thin thread of saliva joining your mouths.

"Ghost." You pant raggedly, eyes darting across his face. Humiliation is ready to sink in at his rejection, but he growls under his breath and kisses you again—harder this time, drawing you in with a hand to your jaw.

It quickly turns into a clumsy, greedy mess of clanking teeth. One of your hands curls around the short hair at the nape of his neck. It is difficult to comprehend that it is his tongue, hot and demanding at the seam of your mouth, pushing in once you part it open. It is his hand moving from your jaw to your hair, fisting it to the point of pain, while his other grips your hip and backs you into the tree.

Your spine presses roughly against the bark. The heat and solidity of his chest against your breasts makes your mind go numb. You can't think about anything, not the day behind you or the one ahead, only feel. Blood courses through your veins with the same heat as when you fight him, but instead of growling in anger, you release a throaty sound of desperation, moving your hands to the backs of his shoulders and digging your nails into the flexed muscle. It encourages him to grind his hips against yours with a low groan, striking an unfamiliar wave of warmth between your legs.

You try to recreate the satisfying friction, greedily bucking into him, but it's difficult with the standing position. The mess of emotions inside you is impossible to sift through, but one certainty stands out: you need more of this, whatever it is.

You attempt to lift your legs and lock your ankles around him, biting his lip as a demand for him to help you, but his hand suddenly releases its hold on your hip and he rips away from your mouth, breathing hard through his bitten lips.

"That's enough," he says roughly, stepping away.

What?

It doesn't feel like even close to enough.

Before you can reach for him, he gives you his back and leaves you there, trying to regain your breath. 

[sexbot300]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹  rival!gojo head-canons

contents: 18+, mdni. rivals to (maybe) lovers. slight fluff, suggestive, crack, slight angst if you squint, smut. gojo satoru x reader.

tw: mentions of sex. actual descriptions of it. suggestive talk. unprotected sex p in v. oral. pet names. degradation. humiliation. satoru being somewhat of an (loving) ass.

a/n: i literally forgot how much i love writing head-canons. i left this one on a cliffhanger on purpose teehee lolz. thank you so so so much for the followers and support i'm getting. luv to hear your feedback! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

rival!gojo who has his patience and ego tested the minute he found out who you were.

rival!gojo who finds it endearing that someone other than him is on par with being the strongest. if endearing meant slightly blood-boiling.

rival!gojo who only heard word that you can “maybe” beat him in a fight and he “maybe” holding that as a grudge.

rival!gojo who sees you for the first time and his brain does a hard-factory reset.

rival!gojo who only laughs to himself that the world is cruel for making his own “arch-enemy” the hottest thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

rival!gojo who was starstruck, he knew that he had to know everything about you, for “research reasons.”

rival!gojo whos first encounter with you went something along the lines of:

“heard you’re the strongest.” “funny, heard the same thing about you.” “try not to die.” “are you kidding? and hand you over the title like a fucking crown?”

rival!gojo who jokes with your own students about joining the winning side, leaving you to be taught by him.

rival!gojo who will never admit that he lovessssssssssss that someone is as strong as he is, contradicting any bit of “malice” he has towards you.

rival!gojo who won't hesitate to call you, “princess” to mock you. truthfully, he’s mocking himself knowing that deep down he wouldn’t mind calling you that in all seriousness.

rival!gojo who purposely sits across from you in important meetings, taking any and every opportunity to speak to you. arms crossed over his chest while smiling. “dont get why i'm here really. look at her, she’s a big girl. i probably can leave the jujutsu world and it’ll be just fineeeee.”

rival!gojo who knows that the world needs him, but wants to be showered in compliments that prove he’s better. he only glances your direction, “ah, but if i leave, who will keep you on your toes?”

rival!gojo who after many, many years has this “relationship” with you that consists of; sly comments, wandering eyes, and moments that leave you both questioning the other.

rival!gojo who knows your favorite color, season, show, drink, how you like your toast charred— what? he’s just getting to know his “enemy” a bit more, relax.

rival!gojo who knows that you’re both the strongest, so it’s a ticking time bomb of who caves in first.

rival!gojo who no one can ever tell if you guys fucking hated each other or were just straight up fucking.

rival!gojo who purposely turns off his limitless near you, making excuses that “you’re no threat” to him. he secretly wants you to touch him because it means he’ll get to touch you.

rival!gojo who will never miss the opportunity to pass snide comments:

“ms. superhero is here, everyone clear way.” “not enough room on this earth for your ego alone, gojo.” “please, call me satoru.” “hm? why is that?”  “just want you to memorize the name of the person who’ll beat you one day.”  “if you’re trying to be sly with your insults, doing a terrible job.”  “princess, it’s not classified as insults if it’s the truth.” “would it make you happy if i just infatuated your self-worth like everyone else?” “there’s a lot you can do that can make me happy actually. start off by shutting up, maybe?”

rival!gojo who is constantly told to stop provoking you as the higher-ups know if you both take it too far, an actual war will break out. “gojo, behave yourself.” he only pouts, arms crossed over his chest, “whattttt? I’m being as friendly as i can be!”

rival!gojo who overhears the higher-ups scold you for replying back to his comments that are on equivalent with his childish behavior. “don’t entertain that idiot.” you only blink dumbfounded, “he started it! i’m nothing but kind and he's just a dumbass with too much power.”

rival!gojo who actually knows every little detail he wanted to about you. If it was your technique, dirt on you, your weaknesses, believe he’ll already know. “still keeping tabs on me?” “i don't understand, even if i was, we’re supposed to be working together sweetheart.” he only snickers, “although, you wish you mattered that much.” eliciting an eye-roll from you.

rival!gojo who actually finds you funny. someone who can keep up with him in all categories? yup, he’s making you his one way or another. you’re either the greatest blessing to occur to him or the reason he believes love truly is a curse.

rival!gojo who does find out if you’re attracted to someone or not and keeps a bit of an eye on who you’re interested in. by no means will he stop you from pursuing who you want, you deserve to feel happiness even if it isn’t with him. even if it means if it’s short-lived happiness, it was enough for a sorcerer who’s life-span is a guessing game. but he’s greedy. he’s selfish. he doesn’t want anyone else to take you, and he won’t directly interfere, but don’t think he isn’t pulling ropes in the back. 

rival!gojo who’s been your secret admirer for a while now, making sure to purposely get you gifts no man outside of his own status can ever top off. even if they were in his own status, he’ll quickly prove that he IS the Gojo Satoru and no one can top that off. if he can't outright admit he wants you, his pseudo-identity will. who do you think bought you those bouquets that swarmed your house that one valentine?

rival!gojo who notices that you’re wearing the pricey bracelet he bought you, snickering softly, “wow? the evil witch managed to successfully cast her spell in making someone like her?” glancing his direction, noticing a smug look on his face as his chin rests on his palm. “dunnooo gojo, maybe you’re not the only one here people find attractive.” you state, eyeing the handsome face of a man who would eat that shit up if you admitted it out loud. with a shit-eating grin, he spoke, “oh so you find me attractive?” unamused in a softer tone, “never said that, never will.” clicking his tongue, a deeper grin stretched out his pink lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”

rival!gojo who noticed that the bracelet didn’t have a cute necklace to accompany it, making a mental notice.

rival!gojo who isn’t actually your rival, he knows that you know he doesn’t have a big ego that you use as a cheap jab. there’s an unspoken mutual solidarity between you two, maybe the faux rivalry and self-worth being tested was a result of a fake relief you both fell in. maybe you can both pretend that all is well in this world. labeled the title of the strongest places all the responsibilities on both of your shoulders. he feels for you that this life isn’t kind to you or him and he feels a pang of guilt knowing that what’s expected of him, is expected of you too. does he hate you at all? never. does he hate knowing that someone else is burdened with the same path as him? more than anything.

rival!gojo who doesn’t understand why you’re still fighting. he has wealth, good looks, a huge dick, a sense of humor and is the not only the strongest but is a clan head. why don’t you just let him take care of you instead? why don't you end up in his arms at the end of the day? why don’t you let him massage the knots in your back and clean up dried-up wounds? why don't you unravel in a bath with him as you lay on his chest, playing with his fingers? why don’t you let him try the same sweets he really likes? why don’t you just let him occupy your world like you have with his?

rival!gojo who won't simply go at it with you like teenagers, he wants to see who will fall into the trap of falling for their rival first. he notices the way your eye lingers on his lips for a split second, or your face that paints that you feel tempted to bite the apple that god forbade you to. he wasn’t an idiot, and neither were you. he wasn’t physically keeping a distance from you more often because he was repulsed from you, no, it was quite the opposite. he knew that if given certain stances, he’d lose all control. but gojo didn’t want that, this was a game. he had to win. It wasn’t about a title anymore, it was about you. he had to win you.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 

rival!gojo who has sexual tension with you that can be cut with a knife, making everyone in the room shift in their seats.

rival!gojo who just eyes you up and comments under his breath that you’re probably so tense from the lack of dick you’re getting. “what was that satoru?” “nothing at all princess, you’re hearing things. get your ears checked out maybe.”

rival!gojo who doesn’t want to get under just your skin but under your sheets too. 

rival!gojo who wants to dominate you in every aspect, especially in bed.

rival!gojo who wants to pummel your pussy into the ground whenever you catch an attitude with him, which is mainly all the time. this one particular time when taking down a curse led you both on thin ice. “satoru, you’re supposed to guard me. the curse could’ve easily escaped. what the fuck were you doing?” you state walking close to him, arms out in disbelief with furrowed eyebrows. “huh, well maybe if you knew what you were doing you wouldn’t be relying on me.” he looked down at you, voice brattier than usual. “rely on you? i’d rather be thrown on the ground right now and have a special grade eat me whole.” faces only inches apart, he tugged his blindfold above one eyes, face growing cold. “I doubt it would remotely even want to eat something as vile as you.” your eyes only glued to his somber face, looking beautiful when disparaging as if it was double the taunting. clearing your throat, “as if it would want to taste you.” a gust of wind escaped his nose in disbelief, “please, it wouldn’t be the only thing here that would want to taste me.” pupils dilated, eyes directing staring in each others souls, you only scoff. “and who’s to say that you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to throw me on the ground?” his once stern face, had a hint of lust wash over in the form of a slight smirk, “not really a fan of wrestling someone so weak, i’ll just feel bad for you. really.” given the circumstances and the hoards of curses making way, he actually regretted not taking you right then and there. his idea of wrestling equating to absolutely demolishing your guts.

rival!gojo who wonders what it would be like to shut your soft, plush mouth up with his own.

rival!gojo who wonders if the bitter insults that roll off your tongue taste sweeter in his mouth.

rival!gojo who is more than giddy to hear that you’re assigned together to train, because he’s not just thinking of physically fighting you. his mind trails off to training you to take his cock instead.

rival!gojo who wants to test your strength in seeing how many rounds you can go with him. this isn’t about training.

rival!gojo who imagines taking you in for the first time; raw, ass up in the air, back arched inhumanely possible, large hand gripping at your hair follicles, and the harsh slapping of skin filling the room. he needs to take you in the most humiliating way, he wants to make you feel all sorts of ways while all he does is snicker about how good you clench on to him in a lewd position.

rival!gojo who often thought about calling you his cum-slut, while he’d make your pretty tongue lap up and down his thick dick groaning about making sure not to be an ungrateful whore and to swallow every last bit of him.

rival!gojo who can’t tell if he wants to fuck the shit out of you or if he wants you to fuck the shit out of him.

rival!gojo who encourages you to wear shorts and tight clothing while sparring. he literally just wants to make you comfortable, nothing at all hidden underneath.

rival!gojo who just takes his sweet time trailing his eyes all around the curves of your body before smiling softly.

“something caught your eye satoru?”  “ohhhhhhh, nothing. just studying your technique.” “is my technique my ass?” “what? a man can’t make sure you have good form?”

rival!gojo who can sense with his six eyes that he gets you wet, he knows that you know which makes it all the better. 

rival!gojo who laughs at you making comments about him probably acting all high and mighty due to a lack of “something.” was it sex? was it his dick? “wouldn’t you like to know pervert?" oh how he wish he can just make you feel the depth of his dick by making you look at the bulge he'd make in your tummy.

rival!gojo who actually does get in a heated making out session with you; hair gripping, tongues slick against each other, moans trapped in each others mouths, dry humping like a bitch in heat, lips engulfing one another. “who the fuck knew that gojo satoru was a needy bitch?” you say breathless, a string of saliva connecting your shameful lips together. “oh please, i was doing the world a favor by shutting you up.”

rival!gojo who finds himself panting as well, dazed out expression, foreheads still touching one another as noses nudge. he huffs slightly, rosy hue scattered across his face. “one more time.” he states breathless, eyes half-lidded. “kiss me one more time,” his voice continues off while you snake an arm around his neck drawing fingertips up and down his undercut. with his eyes shutting softly a sudden gulp, “need to make sure i hated it as much as you did. yeah, yeah, something like that.” he murmurs off before your heads are titling slightly, eyes both shut tight as lips press together on a soft impact. juxtaposing the messy, down-right nasty, desperate exchange of saliva masked as a “kiss.”

rival!gojo who finds out himself that your lips were indeed, soft and he liked the feeling of them pressed against his more than off.

rival!gojo who has to hold himself back from absolutely demolishing your pussy in the middle of combat. through growing pants, you squint your eyes at him from a distance. “g-growing weak satoru.” he’d only blink slightly, shaking his head mentally, the thought of having you pant for other reasons goes on in his head. while staring at your face, “huh, guess i am.”

rival!gojo who jokes that one day he’ll make you cry. unaware of what he meant by that, you only roll your eyes at his statement. although he would kill to hurt you, he wasn’t lying, he would kill even more to see your precious eyes drown in tears of pleasure when taking his fat cock in inch by inch. 

rival!gojo who has you pinned with your hands above your head as he pushes his muscular upper body into yours, feeling every rigid of muscle on your own. “are you purposely trying to be weak or do you just want an excuse to be used as a rag-doll?” pressing more of his body weight on yours, the clothing unable to hold a barrier of the heat and desire emitted off you two. He grinned, voice dropping an octave, his breath hitting your nose, “you disgust me.” quickly flipped the narrative so he was underneath, arms pinned up above his head while your bottom half straddles his groin. a thick, rock-hard sensation felt underneath you, clothing still having a hard time masking your pulsating clit and his dick that’s twitching. staring directly into his cerulean eyes, “clearly, not enough.”

rival!gojo who just knows your pussy is tight and lethal. he knows you’re practically walking around with a pool drenched between your legs waiting to be spread out by him. it’s even worse knowing that he is right. he thinks he can fix that nasty behavior right out of you with a good ol’ lesson on his cock.

rival!gojo who wants nothing more to completely get lost in your pussy, spending hours either making you cry from his dick or convulsing on his tongue.

rival!gojo who is still patient. patiently waiting for the day you slip up before he thinks of casually slipping his 8 inches in your silky folds. little does gojo know that day will be approaching sooner than later.

[mommynott]

Back with another request😛😍 can you write about Dealer!Mattheo and Innocent!Reader!! but a plot like she’s a perfect and good at everything basically and nobody would suspect she smokes but one day she asks if he deals and she comes over to his and he’s like really reserved but it end up in smut?! please and ty my favoritest writer ever!🤭🤭

Ooooo I have been SO excited to write this one! Starting with a little Drabble of them talking, SOOO excited to write more💋

Alright, let’s get into dealer!mattheo ����

The Questioning

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, CHARS 18+, College AU, flirting, tension, build up, dealer!mattheo, weed use, dealing

Your looks deceived a lot of people. Sure you were shy, intelligent, reserved. But you also liked to let loose every now and then. Didn’t everybody?

The usual guy you used was gone and you knew Mattheo was a dealer. Everyone knew. You walked through the hallways until you spotted him. Attractive as ever, talking with Theo and Blaise.

Slowly, you approached the group, your doe eyes locked with Matt’s as your hands clutched your books tightly against your chest. Feeling your heart pounding with nervousness.

“Hey…Mattheo?”

A soft croak managed to escape your now dry throat while Mattheo smirked down at you. Such a pretty little thing. He dismissed Theo and Blaise, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the stone wall. His muscles flexed naturally, causing you to gawk down at them.

“Yes?” Matt asked in his usual cocky manner, raising a curious brown down at you as you swayed from side to side. Trying to find the words to speak. “I….I was wondering if you had some… weed?”

Mattheo scoffed finding it rather adorable that you even needed to ask him that. “Not on me…But yes I sell. You need some?” His raspy voice came out growl-like, taking a toothpick out of his pocket before placing it between his lips. Fuck.

“Mhmm- Is that okay?”

This caused Matt to laugh under his breath before his dark chocolate gaze locked with yours. But in Mattheos mind? He was already thinking of the positions he could put you in. How those lush lips of yours would look wrapped around his cock. How loud he could make you scream.

“‘Course it’s okay, doll face.”

The nickname only made your pulse accelerate. It was a known fact Mattheo Riddle was a player and at times….You'd think of what it was like with him. After all, he was an attractive guy. “Alright, cool. Thanks.”

The softest and sweetest smile sprawled across your face and Matt stood up straight, placing a hand on your shoulder, practically towering over you. “Come by my dorm after class and I got you, darlin’”

He smirked one last time and you could feel the apples of your cheeks burning up. You nodded your head just as he walked away, throwing you one last charming wink before he disappeared into the crowded hallway.

You stood back, trying to catch your breath before you made it to your next class. Already waiting to go see him. Wondering if you’d be in for more than what you asked for because Merlin knew you were hoping so.

Eeekkkk! I hope you guys liked this small little Drabble I have SO many ideas with how I want this to go!

Love you all my smut sluts, requests and asks open 💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

[pucksandpower]

Hey, I just read the Grid Kids series and I’m in love. I’ve got kids of my own and I remember when they first started trying to talk how everyone was practically fighting over who their first work would be and was wondering if you could do a First Word one where they are all doing the same of Seb and Readers kid. Like maybe even little nicknames of theory full name like for Charles it’s Char or for Lando it’s Lan? I thought it might be cute. But everyone gets a surprise when none of them are the kids first word and it’s someone else instead. Love your writing xx

Grid Kids: Speak Now

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: no one could have predicted what your daughter’s first word would be

Series Masterlist

“No, no, no! That’s not how you say it!” You lightly tickle your daughter’s belly until she’s giggling uncontrollably. “Mama! Say Mama!”

Your daughter, a chubby little cherub with her father’s hair and your eyes, squeals with delight, her tiny hands reaching out to grab yours.

She’s been babbling for months now but has yet to say her first real word.

“Come on, bärchen,” Sebastian coos, scooping her up into his arms. “Say Papa for Papa.”

Your daughter claps her hands and gurgles happily, her eyes sparkling. She is determined to keep you both guessing, it seems.

Meanwhile, your grid kids are gathered around, watching the exchange with amusement. They’ve all been trying to coax your daughter into saying their names too but she has stubbornly resisted their charms.

“Maybe she’ll say my name first,” Charles jokes, his usual mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“Not a chance,” Max retorts, his Dutch accent thick with amusement. “She loves me the most.”

“Oh, please,” Lando scoffs, rolling his eyes. “She clearly thinks I’m the coolest brother.”

“Ha,” George laughs, “in your dreams.”

“Exactly! Because we all know that’s me,” Mick chimes in.

Lance arches an eyebrow. “How does it feel knowing you’re all wrong?”

The boys continue to bicker playfully, each one convinced that they are your daughter’s favorite.

The baby in question, meanwhile, seems oblivious to the commotion, her attention focused solely on the shiny red Ferrari parked behind you.

“Box, box!” She exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

Charles, standing closest to the car, freezes. His eyes widen in horror and his face drains of color. Before anyone can react, he collapses to the ground like a sack of potatoes, unconscious.

The boys gasp in shock, their voices echoing through the garage. You rush to Charles’ side, checking for a pulse. He’s alive but he’s definitely not responding.

Sebastian scoops up your daughter, her wide eyes fixed on the stricken Ferrari driver. “It’s okay, honey,” he soothes, gently stroking her hair. “Charles is just a little tired.”

He carries your daughter away, leaving you to deal with the commotion. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Ferrari trauma, I guess,” you mutter to yourself, a rueful smile playing on your lips.

As you help the rest of the grid kids revive Charles, you can’t help but feel a surge of love for your chaotic family.

They may be crazy but you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[o-sachi]

You're Just My Type pt. 1 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ What kind of person is the blue lock boys' ideal girl in terms of looks and personality?

ଳ characters; michael kaiser, sae itoshi, isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishirou, reo mikage, kunigami rensuke, alexis ness

ଳ requested by; @itenesycc

[🐟]: I tried to include as many as possible. Hopefully this fulfills your request! I might make a part two with everyone else I missed.

‎

ᯓ Michael Kaiser - the domestic & doting type

Kaiser turns into the biggest baby around his s/o. How could he not? She spoils him rotten after all. And she hardly minds because she knows that he's just seeking out the care and affection he missed out in his childhood. In a way, he's healing his inner child. Don't get me wrong; he's not using her as some sort of replacement for a parent figure. But he's trying to feel what it's like to be truly loved.

He absolutely loves it when she cooks for him. His heart throbs like crazy whenever their s/o shows even the slightest bit of concern for him. And don't even get him started about the way she would take care of him before and after his practice. At the end of the day, he makes sure to reciprocate her efforts in his own little ways. Suddenly, he's the kindest, most gentle, and most loving man on Earth. And whenever his salary comes in, she's sure to be at a fancy restaurant that night and receiving the queen treatment she deserves.

I have a feeling that he's into nice looking hair. It doesn't matter if it's long or short as long as it's healthy and has volume to it. He's probably into dyed hair as well. He also finds that beautiful hair pairs up well with a pretty set of eyes. The more expressive they are, the better.

ᯓ Sae Itoshi - the shy & soft-spoken type

Sae might seem like a big b*tch to everyone else, but he's surprisingly nice to women (as long as they're not a crazy fanatic). Well... "nice" is a bold term, so let's just say he's aloof. He's not harsh towards them, but he's not going to smile at them either. But! Deep down he has a soft spot for the cute and shy kind of girl. He just can't find it in him to be cold to that kind of person; It almost feels wrong.

But, yes, he'll never admit that in a million years. However, the changeup is noticeable. It's subtle, but you can tell through how his voice softens ever so slightly when talking to his s/o. She might be cursing herself for failing to maintain eye contact with him or tripping over her sentences. But Sae finds all of this quite endearing. And trust me when I say that he becomes the biggest menace around her—making her flustered at every opportunity he comes across. He can't get enough of it.

In terms of looks, he likes it when a girl has soft features with short hair that frames her rounded face. Her plump cheeks make it more enjoyable for him to poke whenever he teases her. It's also canon that he's into ass... so, yeah. He says it's all about the shape and less about the size.

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi - the funny & carefree type

Isagi had the luxury of growing up in a healthy environment, so I think it's only natural for him to gravitate towards someone the same. If she has a great sense of humor with a relaxed demeanor, then he's pretty much sold. Frankly, he doesn't need anything more. Isagi finds beauty in simplicity. His s/o is someone akin to a hidden gem. She isn't flashy by any means, but she's incredibly sweet so she stands out that way.

He wonders why no one has gone after her before. But, oh well, more of her for him! She never fails to make him laugh even if the jokes are corny. They're the type of couple everyone's annoyed at because they're too sweet and now they feel jealous. Oh, but Isagi fell even harder once she witnessed his different side while playing football. He fully expected her to be repulsed, but she was amused. Apparently it was cool to see him so pumped up like that.

He's not that particular when it comes to looks. As long as she has a gentle expression and she takes care of herself, he'll be happy. When it comes to clothes... well, he has no clue about that so even a simple style impresses him. He's really a low maintenance guy and we love him for that. Canonically into thighs, so he doesn't care if it's plump or muscular—he's content as long as he can squeeze 'em.

ᯓ Rin Itoshi - the perfectionist & intelligent type

When you think of the title "Ice Queen"—whatever comes to mind, that's exactly his type. In other words, I have a STRONG feeling that Rin is essentially going for the female version of himself. He doesn't give a shit if she's worse than him. In fact, that makes it better in his opinion. Someone's gotta put him in place, right? He'll happily let her do that as long as he deems her on par with him. And I don't mean that she has to be a football freak; she just needs to be more or less well-rounded.

Apart from his standards being sky high, he just wants to make sure that his girl is better than his brother's girl. Toxic, I know. But what were you expecting? Regardless, he'll always make sure to let her know that she's the best in his eyes. Totally out of character, but he'll be praising her like crazy if he's truly in love with her. I can definitely see an enemies-to-lovers story happening to this guy.

He's probably into the clean girl aesthetic. He finds the look elegant and sleek. It makes her look like she has her shit together and he digs that. Perhaps he prefers dark medium length hair—so, brown and black hues.

ᯓ Bachira Meguru - the calm & laid-back type

When I say calm and laid-back, I don't necessarily mean someone who's the polar opposite of him. She's still going to be as hyper and energetic as him... just a bit more lowkey. Like if they were to go on an amusement park date and ride a rollercoaster—he'd be screaming his lungs out while she'd enjoy the ride quietly with a big smile plastered on her face. She'd gladly let him drag her to whatever crazy scheme he has planned. Spontaneous, but blends into the background kind of thing.

In a way, she's also responsible for mellowing him a little bit. Even though she's fully supportive of his antics, he'll unconsciously calm down at times to match her energy. He especially loves her because she accepts all of the overwhelming affection that he has to offer. Hugs that squeeze the air out of you? Sure, she'll take it. Kisses peppered relentlessly over her face? Great! Just another day for her.

I have this teensy feeling that Bachira might be into ponytails or pigtails. He thinks it makes any girl look cute regardless of the length of her hair. When it comes to height, he's the dude that does not care if she's taller than him. To be fair, he's pretty damn tall, so that should say something about him. Similar to Isagi, he cares more about personality.

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma - the sassy & independent type

I'll just say it... but Chigiri likes his girls a bit b*tchy. Not rude, not mean—but just the right amount of sass. She's not a bitch. She's THE bitch. You get me? He just loves how witty and snarky she can be. It makes the relationship more fun knowing that she can keep up with the banter without taking any offense. They definitely have an inside joke—something something about who has better hair...

She thinks she's his biggest supporter, but it's actually the other way around. The way this man will support his girl is like no other. He can't help it when he's dating a girlboss. Chigiri admires that she's headstrong and knows what she wants. Like ask her where she wants to eat and she'll give you a place... and an order.

Long pretty hair. No ifs, no buts. He wants someone that can rival his hair routine. Chigiri would even be the one to tie a pretty pink ribbon in her locks. I see him digging the whole clean girl aesthetic as well. He's into the preppy style—old money or academia fits best.

ᯓ Nagi Seishirou - the patient & reliable type

I'll be real and say that Nagi probably wasn't the best person to be in a relationship with in the early stages. Of course, he needs some time to get used to having a whole other person constantly be around his space, requiring his attention. It's going to be a difficult ordeal, so it's totally valid to get exhausted. But once he realizes how patient and understanding she is, he'll try harder for her.

One day he'll just wake up on a random morning missing her warmth, then his mind will wander to what his life would be like without her. He'd be terrified to the point that he'll do a full 360 and become the most doting he's ever been. Well, he'll nowhere be near overbearing, but he'll at least show that he cares.

He prefers it when she has short hair or if she has longer hair—she would normally have it in an updo. He says long hair makes it itchy when he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck when cuddling. And speaking of cuddling, Nagi would love it if she was built for warm cuddling. He falls asleep in seconds like a Minecraft character.

ᯓ Reo Mikage - the down-to-earth & responsible type

One of Reo's biggest considerations when it comes to finding love is his partner's perception of money. He's insanely rich, so it's understandable that he wants to find someone who isn't going to date him solely for his bank. He's going to be wary of everyone at first, but he'll fold once he finds someone who's genuinely practical and down-to-earth. Reo will be smitten knowing that she's staying with him because of... him.

With that being said, she needs to be responsible as well. I mean, responsible in the sense that she has her life together. She works hard towards her dreams which matches his goal-oriented persona. If she's financially responsible then, even better. Make those budget spreadsheets in front of him and he'll be impressed. In the end, he spoils her anyway.

Reo's probably into the unique kind of look. She dyed her hair a fun color and wears bold fashion pieces. Minimalist tattoos and piercings are her thing. He'll definitely take pictures of her and post her on his social media—practically bragging about her. He may or may not have paid for most of her tats and piercings because he thinks they're hot.

ᯓ Kunigami Rensuke - the tough & street smart type

Kunigami is a strong-willed person before and after the wildcard. So, of course, he'd be drawn to someone of the same air. His ideal girl is someone who can handle herself in tough situations—someone with a gritty, no-nonsense attitude and a street-smart edge. She knows how to navigate the challenges of life with a cool head and a confident stride. In other words, she can fight her own battles, but appreciates that Kunigami would always be there by her side regardless.

He's attracted to her because she isn't afraid to speak up for herself or for whatever she stands for, even if it means challenging him. They both believe that actions speak louder than words and they constantly express that belief towards each other in their relationship. Together, they're the power couple that everyone aspires to be.

In terms of appearance, he's not too fussy about it. He's more attracted to the fact that she's confident in her body. But he would definitely bark for her if she was a muscle mommy. Her fashion sense is practical yet stylish, reflecting her no-fuss attitude. Kunigami loves that she can effortlessly switch between tough and tender, and he's always in awe of her versatility.

ᯓ Alexis Ness - the creative & clingy type

Ness is into the artsy girls. Doesn't really matter if it's drawing, painting, theater, or writing—as long as she possesses the creative spirit. He believes that the creation of art is magical in and of itself. It's not supernatural by any means, but the fact that she can create something with her own hands that no one else can exactly replicate baffles him. He's the biggest fan of her works—that's for sure. It's practically praise galore when he's around.

He feels the most loved when his girl expresses the desire to be around him whenever she can. Quality time and physical affection are his non-negotiables in a relationship. And unlike most people, he'd find her clinginess endearing rather than annoying. He's going to be so generous with his affection—she better be prepared to take in ALL of it.

He's also very much into girls with tattoos. The regular black ink ones are nice, but the colorful tats are amazing. Bonus points if the tattoo has sentimental value to her. I think he's also similar to Bachira in that he doesn't mind if she's taller than him. She wants to wear heels on date night? By all means, go ahead. He'll compliment her anyway.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey! Ps: love another Lie 🫶🏻 Your writing is so beautiful! I have some fiction ideas and I hope you'd like some 🥹

Imagine Charles in the middle of a race and there is a high speed crash. He's bruised and hurt and may have internal injuries but he wants to get back to the reader in the pitlane asap cause he knows the reader would lose it and as he suspects the reader is in the middle of a panic attack with everyone holding her back and on seeing him she is relieved and breaks down and he's like "you've been crying" and consoles and Hugs her in public. Ps: If you're up for it maybe it could lead to soft consoling nsfw smut?

A Little Longer

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, crash, panic attack, injuries, smut WC: 1.3k

F1 Masterlist

You only looked away for a second, but that was all it took to miss the crash.

One moment Charles was setting best sector timings, and on the way for the fastest lap, and the next his car was spinning off the track and slamming into the tecpro barrier.

A collective gasp had rippled through the garage and you had nearly broken your neck with how quick your head snapped back to the screens. For a moment you couldn’t even see him through the dust from the gravel pit he had caught the edge of. In that moment a hundred thoughts passed through your head. In that moment a thousand questions followed, growing darker and darker as everyone waited for the dust to clear.

All ability to function was erased as you remained frozen in place, eyes fixated on the screens, unblinking, waiting for any sign of movement.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think.

You hadn’t realised you were moving until Joris grabbed your arm and you found yourself under the harsh sunlight of the pit lane instead of the garage. “Let me go,” you begged with a broken voice. “I need to get to him.”

The edge of your sight was fuzzy, the images blurry as tunnel vision set in and Joris shook your shoulders. His lips were moving but no sound penetrated the noise in your head or the whoosh of your pulse that seemed to be thump in your ears.

“I need to get back to my girlfriend.”

“This is your health we are talking about, Mr Leclerc. You need to be thoroughly checked out at the medical centre.”

“Later,” Charles argued as he limped over to the motorcycle, his hand clutching his ribs. “You don’t know her, she will be worried.”

Every bump on the path sent a jolt of pain across Charles ribs and he bit back the groan that followed. He had to focus on his breathing as he ignored the crowd watching his return to the pits, he couldn’t spare a second to think about all the people he had disappointed with his crash. 

All he could think about was you.

He immediately knew he was right to worry when the motorbike puttered along the pit lane and he saw a ring of his crew trying to keep the media from seeing the scene behind them. Your cheeks were damp with your tears but your lips were cracked from the rapid breaths you were struggling to take. Joris was at your side, the relief in his eyes notable when he looked up and found Charles pushing his way through the crowd.

“Mon cœur, you’ve been crying,” Charles whispered as he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing soft kisses over your damp cheeks.

“Charles?” 

He hated how broken your voice was, broken because you had been screaming for him until your throat was raw. He held you tighter despite the protest his body made but he couldn’t stop the sharp intake he took when life returned to you and you threw your arms around his waist. 

“You’re hurt!” you gasped as you leapt back and kept him at an arms width so you could inspect him. “You should be with the medics. What if you’re bleeding internally? I can’t live without you, Char.”

He chuckled softly and cupped your face so he could silence your ramblings with a kiss. “I’ll see them soon, I just need to hold you first. Please?”

You couldn’t deny him, not when his green eyes looked so blue. Lacing your fingers with his you gave him a small nod and finally noticed where you had ended up. You couldn’t remember leaving the garage and Charles draped his arm over your shoulder, turning you back to the shelter of the garage when he saw your eyes widen in realisation.

“I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” you mumbled as he closed the door to his driver room.

“I know, mon cœur,” he replied softly as his hands ran up and down your back soothingly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your trembling fingers reached for his face, tracing the creaselines his balaclava had left over his cheeks and when his eyes fluttered shut your thumb brushed away the dust that had clung to his lashes. 

“I couldn’t see you.” His eyes opened at the sound of your voice. “It was the worst feeling in the world. I couldn’t see if you were okay or if…”

Charles chased away the lingering thought as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “I’m here, I’m here,” he reminded you as he stepped backwards, taking you with him to the couch where he sank into the soft cushions with a wince before tugging you onto his lap.

You tried to pull away as your legs settled either side of his thighs but his arms locked around your waist. “You’re hurt, baby. You need to let the medics check you.”

“Soon.” His hands followed the curve of your body until he reached the hem of your dress and they slowly began to climb once more. His palms were still warm from his gloves and the touch sent heat waves rippling across your skin as he inched higher up your thighs. “Please, let me hold you a little longer.”

It was unfair of him. Truly. He knew exactly how his touch affected you and when his thumbs teased the line of lace between your thighs you couldn’t think clearly enough to deny him. Your response was dragging the zip of his race suit down and his hands left your body only long enough to pull his sleeves down and shove the material past his waist. 

Time began to work strangely as the urgency to feel each other crashed into the need to savour the moment. Your panties were pushed aside in the rush as Charles’s strong hands guided your body down to meet his and then time slowed as you stared into the gold and green eyes of the man you loved more than anything.

Whatever he saw in your eyes made him swallow deeply and bury his face in the crook of your neck, kissing his way back to your lips where he reminded you once more, “I’m here, amour.”

You returned his kiss, combing your fingers through his hair as it deepened and your hips began to move slowly. There was an awareness of his injuries that kept you from moving any faster and after a minute Charles’ impatient hands gripped your waist and set the pace for you until you forgot about the crash completely.

“I love you, Charles,” you moaned as your core clenched around him and he stole the soft sounds with his lips as he joined you in ecstasy.

“I love you too.” He sighed contentedly as he pulled you as close as possible against him, your entire front pressed to his, but the sigh turned to a groan of pain.

“Medics, now,” you ordered as you climbed off his lap and offered your hands to pull him to his feet. “No more procrastinating.”

“What we did wasn’t procrastinating, amour,” he managed to tease as he held his rib cage with one hand while he pulled his race suit back up with the other.

You groaned and ran a hand over your face. “You’re not allowed to joke until the doctors have cleared you, Charles.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Lacing your fingers in his, he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the door. “Let’s go and ease your mind, my sweet.”

[thatlotuscookie]

Mikey from Tokyo Revengers please. Maybe where the reader is the only one who can calm him down when he's having a bad day or feeling overwhelmed, but she doesn’t realize how much it means to him?

✧･ﾟ: a/n : to the lovely anon who requested this—thank you! Mikey’s the type of character who hides his emotions well, but I can totally see him seeking comfort in someone who brings normalcy into his chaotic life. I hope this hits all the right feels for you! I listened to Understand by Keshi the whole time and AGHH brought me into the feels.

✧ Title: ✧ The Weight Of Everything ✧ ✧ Characters: Mikey (Manjiro Sano) x Reader (Fem!Reader) ✧ Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: Mikey carries burdens that no one else can truly understand. On days when everything feels like it’s falling apart, your presence becomes his only source of calm. But when Mikey realizes just how much you mean to him, he's left wondering if there's a chance for something more. ✧ Content/Tags: Emotional vulnerability, Mentions of stress/burnout, Angst, Slow Burn, Vulnerability, Pining, Emotional Support, Confession ✧ WC: 1323 words // 7470 chars

Mikey was used to handling things alone.

Being the leader of Toman came with burdens that no one else could truly understand. The pressure of making decisions, keeping his friends safe, staying strong for everyone—it was a constant weight on his shoulders. Most days, he carried it without complaint, hiding his exhaustion behind that calm, almost childlike demeanor he was known for.

But there were days when it all became too much. Days like today, when even the smallest frustrations piled up until they became overwhelming, leaving him on the verge of snapping.

Mikey sat at the edge of the rundown rooftop, his legs dangling over the side as he stared blankly at the horizon. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the city, but he couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the beauty of it. His mind was racing, his heart heavy with unspoken thoughts.

It was one of those days.

He’d been distant with the gang, unusually quiet, and though his friends had noticed, none of them dared to ask what was wrong. They knew better than to pry when Mikey was in one of his moods. Only Draken had given him a look, that knowing expression that said he understood—but even he hadn’t tried to approach.

Mikey preferred it that way. He didn’t want to be asked how he was feeling. He didn’t want to explain. He just wanted… to escape.

And that’s where you came in.

You weren’t a member of Toman, not in the traditional sense, but you’d been around long enough to be considered part of the family. You were close to the core group, though you never really saw yourself as anyone particularly important. You were just… there. Someone who offered a kind smile, someone who listened, someone who brought a sense of normalcy to their otherwise chaotic lives.

Unbeknownst to you, that normalcy had become something Mikey craved more than he would ever admit.

You spotted him sitting alone on the rooftop when you went looking for him. The others had mentioned his unusual behavior today, and while they didn’t seem too worried, you couldn’t help but feel concerned. Something about his silence had struck you as different, more unsettling than usual.

“Mikey?”

Your voice was soft as you approached, not wanting to startle him. He didn’t turn to look at you, but his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly at the sound of your voice.

Without waiting for an invitation, you sat down beside him, careful to leave a little space between you. The cool breeze tugged at your hair, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

You glanced at him, noting the way his eyes were fixated on the horizon, distant and unfocused. “You okay?”

Mikey didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t sure how to explain what he was feeling—not even to himself. Instead, he shrugged, a small, almost imperceptible movement.

You weren’t surprised by his silence. He had always been a man of few words when it came to his emotions, and you’d long since learned that pushing him for answers wasn’t the way to go. So, you sat quietly beside him, your presence calm and steady.

After a few minutes, you sighed softly and leaned back, resting your hands behind you. “You know,” you began casually, your tone light, “sometimes I just come up here to watch the sunset when I’ve had a bad day. It’s kinda nice, isn’t it?”

Mikey’s gaze flickered to you for the first time since you’d arrived, his expression unreadable. He didn’t respond, but the tension in his posture eased just a little more.

You smiled, more to yourself than to him. “Yeah. It’s peaceful up here. Like nothing else matters.”

He remained quiet, but you didn’t mind. There was something about just sitting with him, even in silence, that felt… right. You didn’t need to fill the space with meaningless words. Sometimes, just being there was enough.

Minutes ticked by, and the sky shifted from orange to pink, then deep purple. The world around you seemed to grow quieter, and you found yourself relaxing more, the weight of the day lifting from your own shoulders.

Mikey, on the other hand, was watching you now. He didn’t know when it had happened, but at some point, your mere presence had become something he relied on. Something that grounded him when everything else felt like it was slipping through his fingers. You never asked for anything, never expected him to explain himself or act a certain way around you. You just… were. And that simple fact had become his lifeline.

He shifted slightly, moving closer to you, though he made sure not to draw attention to it. He didn’t want you to think too much of it—not yet, at least.

You turned your head, catching his movement, and smiled at him, though you didn’t comment on the fact that he was now sitting a little closer than before.

“Thanks,” he muttered suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, surprised by the suddenness of his words. “For what?”

“For… this.” His eyes were still on the horizon, but his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “For just… being here.”

Your heart warmed at his words, but you shrugged it off, trying to keep things light. “Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends. That word stung more than Mikey had expected it to. Was that all you thought you were? Just friends?

He didn’t respond, but the silence that followed was different this time—more charged, more significant. You felt it too, though you weren’t sure why. There was something in the way he was looking at you now, something in the air between you that made your pulse quicken.

Before you could say anything else, Mikey spoke again, his voice low and almost hesitant. “You don’t… even realize, do you?”

You frowned slightly, confused. “Realize what?”

“How much this means to me.” His gaze finally met yours, and the vulnerability in his eyes took your breath away. “How much you mean to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. You had never seen Mikey like this—so open, so raw. It was like the walls he had spent so long building around himself were starting to crack, just enough for you to see what lay beneath.

“I…” You struggled to find the right words, unsure of how to respond.

Mikey sighed, his usual confident demeanor faltering as he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an idiot, but… you’re the only one who can calm me down. When everything feels like it’s falling apart, you’re the only thing that keeps me from losing it.”

His confession hit you like a wave, and suddenly, everything made sense. The way he always seemed to seek you out, the way he relaxed whenever you were around. It wasn’t just coincidence. It was because you had become something more to him—something that went beyond friendship.

“I didn’t know…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t know I meant that much to you.”

Mikey smiled, though it was small and a little sad. “Yeah, well… I didn’t realize it either, until now.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken feelings, and you weren’t sure what to say. Your heart was racing, your mind spinning, but one thing was clear: Mikey needed you, in a way that no one else did. And maybe, just maybe, you needed him too.

Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing against his. “I’m here,” you said softly. “Whenever you need me.”

Mikey’s fingers curled around yours, his grip firm yet gentle. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on his shoulders lifted, just a little.

And for the first time, he allowed himself to hope—for something more, for something real.

[poisonsage808]

Goes Without Saying

Sevika x Reader

clear winner of the poll! enjoy some more sevika <33

warnings: no spoilers, violence, blood

It happened so fast.

You used to think that was a stupid phrase, a lie or a cop out that people told when they didn’t have the details to describe what ensued. Then you landed palms first into the pavement, barely able to stop your head from crashing onto the ground. You tasted blood before you saw the crimson liquid trickling down the slope of your nose. Your brow ached something awful. Hands, knees, cheek and chin burning from the scrapes and irritated with the dust that didn’t belong on you.

A throaty chortle started a chorus of laughter from a few feet behind where you slid from.

“Hey’a slut, have a nice fall?”

He tripped you. And he thought he was clever to boot.

You spat out the copper taste, running your tongue over your teeth to check for any chips. You pretended luck was on your side when you found none. Teeth were the hardest to replace.

Crash!

Scrambling to your feet, you whipped your head around too quickly and almost fell on your ass. For a moment you were worried they weren’t satisfied with a mere fumble, they might’ve wanted more entertainment at your expense. There was a three headed blob that suddenly became one after a blur of green shot by. When your vision cleared you saw the two snickering bystanders on the ground, bleeding much, much worse than you. The jerk that hooked your ankle and sent you tumbling was weakly trying to crawl away.

“What’s your damage?” A familiar, smooth voice asked with a hint of exhilaration. Sevika did always have a bit of a sadistic streak. The smirk pulling at her lips proved it. “I wanna even the score.”

In an attempt to wipe the blood off of your face, you only smeared it into your hair.

“Chipped a tooth.” You lied, spitting out another lump of crimson for effect.

Judging by the speed of which her smirk dropped, her joy was slaughtered. Sevika’s metallic arm hissed in preparation for what her mind had already made up. You could have come out of the fall without a scratch and it wouldn’t have mattered, because laying a finger on you was a death sentence.

Sevika lifted the jerk by the collar of his shirt and smashed his face into her knee as it launched from the ground. You winced at the satisfying crack. She let his body fall to the filthy floor, quickly turning and marching towards you with a scowl. You glared when she snatched your arm, whining the tiniest bit to win back the Sevika that fought someone for you.

“Quit being a baby.” She snapped quietly, pulling you along.

Only a few heads turned as she dragged you through the doors of The Last Drop and into her private office. It was less of an office and more of a gambling room, by her design, of course. She promptly kicked everyone out and sat you on a lumpy couch. Immediately she forced your lips apart, her finger invading your mouth.

“You lying bug. I bashed his teeth in for nothing.”

You flashed a tired, bloody grin her way, “Not for nothing. You were going to do it anyways.”

Sevika snorted, allowing you to witness a small bit of mirth. Her touch on the aching side of your face was obscenely gentle, her thumb testing the sensitivity of the forming bruises. It was terrifying to see how quickly her eyes changed from melted chocolate to charred wood when she was angry. Just looking at your face brought back the fury she felt when she saw you fall.

“Yeah.” Sevika agreed firmly, “No one’s gonna hurt you on my watch, bug.”

You couldn’t help but poke the bear when she acted this way. She was affectionate to you… in her own way. Fighting someone on your behalf, whether you asked her to or not, doting on you as she sweetly wiped the blood from your hair and managing to close the cut on your brow without stitches because she knows how you get about them.

“You like me.” You teased, “Admit it.”

“Don’t be childish.” She tossed the bloody rag onto the table of abandoned cards and chips, and sunk onto the couch beside you. Sevika waited for your legs to hook over her lap and scoot closer before her human arm wrapped around your shoulders and locked you there. “Of course I do.”

~

come hangout and talk about arcane (and more!) with us on [discord]

[acesofspadess]

Austin, baby!

Cl16 x black!reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, i think that’s it though.

summary: austin brings not only birthdays to Charles Leclerc

“Happy birthday mon cœur.” you kissed Charles cheek as you brought the cake out. Everyone cheered as he blew out the candles. The night was still young as Charles drank away with Joris and other friends that night in Austin. “Mon cœur do you want something from the bar?” He came up from behind you and rested his hands against your hips. “No, I want you to have fun, so I’m driving back.” She told him with a slight giggle as he rocked them back and forth. “Are you sure?” He asked again, and with a kiss to his lips and a, ‘positive’ he was off to the bar.

Charles did indeed have much fun that night. He didn’t get drunk as it was still a race week, but he was tipsy. “Alright, birthday boy. Time to go home.” You laughed as you were the only ones left in the rented space but he still danced to the music playing quietly through the speakers. “But I didn’t open your gift?” He realized. “That’s because it’s at home.” You told him and his eyebrows raised comically fast. “Oh is it?”

“Char!” You laughed as he swung you around. “Is it not that?” He questioned. “No, it’s something much better.” You said pointedly. “I love you baby,” he started, “but there isn’t much that’s better than that.” He said pointedly back to you, making you laugh. “Trust me. It is.” You said helping him gather his gifts. “If you say so.” He sang.

Charles sang along to the radio on the way back to the hotel. “Lando is supposed to get in tomorrow.” He said quietly. “He told me.” You chuckled softly. Lando was how you met Charles. “Of course he did.” He rolled his eyes teasingly. “He will always tell you he was there first.” 

“I don’t care.” He said making you laugh at his dramatics. “Okay baby.” He squeezed your thigh with a bright smile as you took ‘his side’. Between the two of you you managed to get his gifts up to the room in one trip, there weren't many, but they took up some space.

“Okay, keep your eyes closed, and hands out.” You said leaving him in the living area of your hotel room as you walked into the bedroom. “I’m so nervous.” You heard him say as you pulled the box from your luggage. “I am too.” You whispered more to yourself than anything. You placed the box in his hands and backed away a little bit. “Okay you can open it.” You said and he opened eyes looking at the medium sized box.

You watched as he undid the bow and lifted the lid off the box. When the contents of what was in the box were fully exposed to him his eyes shot to yours. “No.” He gasped and you nodded as he lifted the pregnancy test out of the box. “When- how long-” He continued cutting himself off as he stood up and walked towards you. “Well, I assume some time over summer break. It’s been around 3 months.” You told him quietly, and he looked at you with a flicker of sadness. 

“How did I not know?” He questioned himself. “Well, we’ve both been very busy, and you normally don’t ‘pop’ until around this time. Which is why I’ve been wearing loser fitting clothes. It’s not your fault baby.” You reassured him immediately. “We’re having a baby?” He said softly and you nodded, eyes starting to tear up as his did too. “We’re having a little LeClerc.” You confirmed and he wrapped you into a hug immediately. “I’m so happy mon cœur.” He whispered into your neck. 

You both swayed back and forth as you let Charles sink into the realisation he was about to become a father. His hands lifted your shirt enough to see the small bump forming. “Hi little one.” He whispered getting to his knees. “I’m your papa. Please be good to your maman. Even though she hid you from me.” He looked up at you as he said it, making you chuckled softly with a roll of your eyes. 

“This is the best birthday gift ever.” he stood back up kissing your lips. “I told you so.”

charles_leclerc and y/nl/n 

liked by landonorris and others

charles_leclerc I’ve won in Monaco, I’ve won in Monza, and now I’ve won in life. Thank you mon cœur for choosing me in this life. You will be the best mother to our baby. #littleleclerc

view comments

y/nl/n you will be the best father Cha, thank you for choosing me in this life

-charles_leclerc in every life mon amour

maxverstappen so happy for you both!

kellypiquet P says she wants to babysit

landonorris I hear godfather calling my name

-arthur_leclerc yeah right

-maxverstappen in your dreams

forzaferrari ABGDILNYG Little LeClerc!!

carlossainz watch out ferrari

-ferrari writing the contract now

lewishamilton congrats mate! Can’t wait to see little leclerc roaming the paddock next year!

olliebearman I can’t wait to see baby LeClerc!

oscarpiastri welcome to the family future little one

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! would love to hear what you think!

[cyberapid]

Mom 2

ES Wheeljack x Cybertronian reader

She/Her pronouns used for reader

I might do a part 2 to this idk

i did do a part 2 :)

—•—•—•—•—

Twitch finds any time she gets to spend with Wheeljack enjoyable, even when he uses this sacred father-daughter time for work purposes. So, when he says he's going to be working just outside of Witwicky for a project she jumps to offer her help, begging not only him but her mom and dad to allow her to help– she is a very capable Terran after all. So, with both of her parent's permission she sets out with Wheeljack into the wooded outskirts of Witwicky to painstakingly push short stakes into the ground, they pulse blue at the very top but once they're covered, she and Wheeljack are the only ones to know of their location. Them and the little notebook she’d been given to jot the coordinates down, a very important autobot mission.

“So much for bonding time,”

The dirt takes the brunt of her anger as she kicks what’s in front of her, scuffing her pristine pede. She almost doesn't hear the crunching of leaves and twigs because of her sulking but the last branch broken was loud enough to snap her out of it, she turns expecting to see Wheeljack. Instead, there's an unfamiliar bot who's larger than her, and holding her arm, that is formed into a cannon, at the ready. Thankfully the femme hasn't seemed to have noticed her, leaving Twitch the ability to transform and fly up just out of sight.

The bot is leaking energon and dragging one leg limply, she’s clearly in pain. This twists Twitch’s spark and fills her with the urge to help but all she can think of is her parent’s disappointed faces and decides to find Wheeljack instead. So, she flies off into the forest, not as quietly as she should have though as the tree directly in front of her suddenly bursts into flame and char. Crap-

“I heard you! Show yourself, Con!” the voice is wavering but confident- Ok new plan, new plans are good. What would Bumblebee do?

“I'm not a con!” probably not that,

“Twitch?” Wheeljack's thickly accented voice is an instant relief as he comes through the woods, confused.

“Wheeljack!-” his name comes simultaneously from Twitch and the mystery Bot who walk towards him, throwing both of her arms around his shoulder pads.

“Sweetspark? What are you doing here,” his tone turns from confusion to worry at the sight of her leg, where energon is spilling from damaged fuel lines “By the Allspark! What happened?”

Their conversion turns hushed as Wheeljack adjusts his volume to the low one of the femme leaned against his chassis but Twitch still catches a few words as she creeps forward, important words being Cons and in the area. Overall, not good is what she got,

“Alright alright. Twitch were leaving before there’s any more trouble,” he’s transforming before she can get a word of protest in, revving his engine and taking off back towards her house after seeing both girls transformed and trailing behind him.

The drive is both quick and horribly slow because Wheeljack is speeding like she’s never seen before but also, she can’t help but try to inspect the leaking car that rides just behind him and rumbles anytime she gets too close to her side view mirrors. She can't help but scout just ahead of them to make sure there’s no unwanted bots in front of them before fly back towards the group,

“See anything, Kid?” Wheeljack's voice startles her from her near trance of flying back and forth from them.

“Nope, all clear up front!” Her voice contorts from the discomforting silence that continues to drag even as they finally drive up the familiar dirt road and see the red barn Bumblebee, Thrash, and herself call home. She quickly transforms back and checks the house, seeing all the lights are turned off and the barn doors are closed tight- everyone's asleep.

There's the creak of metal behind her and she turns to see Wheeljack, back in bot form helping to lift the form of the femme cybertronian who sways unsteadily. “You need to sit, let me look.”

“If I sit down, I don't think I'll be able to get back up,” the bot steadies her helm on Wheeljack's shoulder plate, their hands intertwined in a comfortable manner. It's a scene she's familiar with, loving, like her parents when they are extra romantic or just want to poke fun at their children.

Oh, No way

“You don't gotta get up. Just sit, please,” he’s easing her onto the ground before moving to look over her leg, securing the bleeding which leaves his servos stained blue. “It's not great but it'll do till I can get you back to a medic,” his tone is low and most likely not heard by the bot whose optics struggle to stay open, this was reassurance for himself.

“Who is this,” Twitch’s question startles Wheeljack almost as if he forgot that the young Terran was with them in the first place. “Is she your-”

What does her dad call her mom?

“-your mom? Like mom to your dad?” sounds good.

His optics go wide from this question– spot on. He sputters and there's an audible click as his vents kick into overdrive,

“Mom? No, no- She’s my Conjunx,.” he’s fussing with her damaged leg and trying his best to avoid Twitch’s stare, “So in a way, yes?” A sudden hiss causes their attention to turn to the Cybertronian, who slowly comes to.

She slaps Wheeljack’s servo away from her leg and clutches it. “You did good, so stop Jack. you're killing me,” her tone is sharp and her servos sharper as they turn a annoyed glance from him towards Twitch, gaze softening, “Twitch,”

“You know me?”

“How could I not,” she smiles as Twitch comes closer, settling herself nearly between the two, much to Wheeljack's chagrin.

“But I don't know you,” it's her turn to give Wheeljack an annoyed look which he returns,

“I was gonna introduce you two eventually, just needed to be the right time,” the barns paint chips and the wood creaks unsteadily as he suddenly leans his weight back onto it, rubbing his stained servos over his face plate before giving his digits a disgusted look as the blue stains part of his plate, “And I think it's safe to say this wasn't the right time. I don't even know why you were here,” he turns towards the femme, bewildered.

“We got word that Cons were in the area, no one could get ahold of you, so I went myself. No need to thank me.”

Her smile is weak but playful for a moment before dropping at the quick snark of Wheeljack, who doesn’t seem to catch the playfulness, “Wasn't planning on it”

Twitch watches their interactions but tunes their words out, opting to watch their desperate need for physical contact. The two are sending fierce glares to one another, their servos never untwine even when they are awkwardly twisted around Twitch’s much smaller form- Then it clicks, “You're like-”

“Don't-” Wheeljack's optics widen as he predicts what's gonna come from his daughter's intake and he reels with horror trying to cut her off,

“-my Mom2!”

“Mom?”

“We can have Mom2-Twitch bonding! Science is already Wheeljack and my thing so we can do something else! What do you like to do? Unless you like science too which I'm fine with more of- but I really like-” She continues even with Wheeljack trying to coax her to silence, but her excitement is infectious, and it brings a smile to your face plate.

[shakethediseeas]

Do you think you could do sibling alien stage head cannons?? Like if the alien stage characters had little siblings, how would they act towards them?

i love all the ideas im getting I hope I don't let you guys down, I'm so hungry for Alien Stage content....

ALIEN STAGE CHAR WITH A LITTLE KID SIBLING

im imagining this as you being a child but if you want like a little sibling in the same age range uh I can do that if u ask....

IVAN

I feel like he'd cherish his sibling a lot, especially a younger one.  

He loves caressing your head, playing with your hair, 100% 

Or hold your hand and rub circles on the back of it while looking at you with a smile. 

He is always by their side, no matter what. If you're crying, he's there. If he chooses to run away, he takes you with him.  

The way he comforts you is by pressing your head against his chest and running his fingers through your hair before placing a small kiss on it, whispering quietly to help you release all negative emotion. 

He's a bit of a hypocrite when telling you what to do. He wants to send you on the right path in life because you deserve the best in the world, so of course, he's always giving you advice, caressing your head, and telling you via story books. 

He still manages to rub off on you, if you’re a ray of sunshine you have a serious look on your face and people get scared off and you don't mind much as long as you have your brother. 

You’re unafraid of the big dog like aliens who bare their teeth at people. You brainlessly put your head in its mouth or put your forehead to its nose and close your eyes, feeling a connection to it. 

Every time he finishes a song you run up to him which makes him smile, remembering partly who he is doing this for.  

If he ever had a friend to talk to, he’d always mention you, i mean, you’re all he has. 

And in return he would tell you about the people he knew, when you asked about Till he would tell you, but his head would be in the clouds. 

HYUNA

She doesn't lie to their sibling at all. You will know the situation, and she won't hide anything from you.

You need something? She always has your back. You're spoiled rotten.

She raised you to be tough and headstrong so that you could live your best life when you grow older.

She gets so excited every time she notices you growing older that she shakes or hugs you while jumping and showing you off to everyone. only to her close friends because shes a bit secretive about you.

gets really mad when someone she doesnt like mentions you

Loves to kiss your cheek, mwah mwah mwah! Before biting it playfully.

She wants you to know that you own yourself and don't have to please anyone to be happy! If you do something, it's because you want it!

When she notices that she's rubbing off on you, she squeals and tells her buddies, telling them she's so proud before rubbing your head to mess up your hair because you can't be cooler than her.

She'll hug you whenever you feel down and tell you it's all going to be alright, that no matter what, she was always there, and she'd kick anyone's ass for ya.

she's not a fan of getting all cheesy, so she'll squish your cheeks and tell you to raise your head high.

LUKA

He wants you to be independent so he does the worst thing he could possibly do. ignore you.

He thinks it will make you strong, so you'll be capable of handling things if he ever disappears, but it just makes you wish he'll acknowledge you.

You get everything that you want except your brother's attention.

So you do everything to try to impress him, even starting to practice singing and accomplishing every task given to you.

And when you're standing next to your brother in front of your owner, when the alien leaves, he just rubs your head and walks away with a small smile.

When he notices he's rubbing off on you he either frowns because who do you think you are? or he smirks and doesn't say anything.

He never talks with you, only really short talk

Whenever you show that you feel down, tears in your eyes as you call for your brother, he gets a bit angry. You shouldn't be showing that; you won't survive in this world if you do.

He'll probbaly slap you........

He's not good at caring for you; he doesn't know how much it would affect you.

MIZI

She'll do anything for you. She wants you to smile always.

Everything she does is for you. She always thinks about you every second, wondering when she'll get to see you.

She buys you many gifts, so don't ask her how she got them; she has her ways.

She sings you to sleep, picks flowers for you, and hugs you daily.

If anyone knew her, they know you're her number one priority.

If you ever feel down, she will sing you your favorite song and gently rock you to sleep, trying not to cry, too, because she's supposed to look strong for her sibling.

When you show similar behavior to her, she smiles and gets so happy she'll tell the whole world, similar to hyuna but she brags to everyone.

TILL

um.

He tries, he really does but he's a bad influence and tries to distance himself from you so you'll be safe.

another part of him is too love sick to have anyother resoponsability

But you dont know that nd so you stick to him as much as you can, showing off anything you made or just anything you learned to impress him.

all he does is nod not even looking your way before saying "yeah great job."

He yells at you only to protect you. he wants you to not be seen with him so you don't SEE how much trouble he is, how horrible he is.

he loves you, but hes let you go for the best........

sorry if Luka and Till's werent good, if u wan ill remke.... any ideas are welcomed , maybe part 2s

its 2 am........ ill catch up with the other requests soon/..

[gguk-n]

The Sky Between Us (Charles Leclerc x Reader)

Summary- Meeting Charles was an accident, but being with him was a choice. Did Y/N have any say in keeping Charles by her side tho?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1- Whispers of Adventure

If someone was to tell Y/N 2 years ago that she would be standing in a hotel in Austria involved in a heated argument with her boyfriend, she surely wouldn't have believed you. But here she was, eyes red, mouth dry and tears ready to spill. It wasn't always like that she reminisced.

Y/N was on a girls trip to Monaco, a trip that took months to plan and a lot of saving on their part. But Y/N was happy to be there, between all the glitz and glam. Everyone seemed so rich and wealthy, the 5 girls felt embarrassed asking for the prices of stuff before making the purchase, so they kept to sight seeing and eating food. On the second day of the trip, Y/N was out grabbing coffee for herself while her friends caught up with some sleep when she ran into a man, quite literally. It was like in the movies, her coffee cup, now cold but still half full, had landed smack in the middle of a man's white shirt. It looked horrible, this would stain and she had just ruined a strangers white shirt in all of this. Y/N profusely apologised and offered to either pay for the dry cleaning or buy him a new shirt. He seemed amused at the proposition. "I'm Charles, by the way." he said. "I would like to know the name of the woman about to buy me a new shirt." he asked. Flustered, Y/N raised her hand forward and introduced herself, he was quite attractive, she wasn't going to lie and probably around her age.

There was a garment store down the street, Y/N didn't really pay much heed to the store, how much could a plain white shirt cost, she thought. As the sales clerk pulled the same white shirt he was wearing out of the rack to ring it up, she asked, "Just wondering, it's a dress shirt, right? Must be slightly expensive, hmm." She nodded mostly to herself. Only moments later, Y/N was about to find out that the shirt cost almost 5000 euros, her mouth lay open in shock. She quickly collected herself and moved Charles away from the cashier, "What kind of job do you do that your shirt costs how much I make in a month?" she looked perplexed. "I travel the world due to my work." he replied. "I got that much, but damn dude, I want to apologise to you for ruining your shirt worth 5000 euros, I'll get on my knees and beg but I wouldn't be able to buy you that shirt. Any way I can pay for the dry cleaning. I'm pretty sure it costs in 1000s of euros, anyways." she rambled on. Charles laughed at the anguish of the woman in front of him. "This isn't funny Charles. Fucking hell. I had to go and bump into the hot rich white man while in Monaco at that." she mumbled while running a hand through her hair. Charles smirked, "I have a proposition" he began. "I'm not selling my organs for a shirt. You are fucking loaded, buy it yourself." Y/N cut him off. "Hear me out for a minute" the french accent thick. "Go on a date with me and that's the shirt sorted." he continued. Y/N seemed to mull her options over and agreed to the date.

It had been 6 months since the eventful day when Y/N spilt coffee all over Charles shirt. A quick google after the date let her know that he was a driver for Ferrari in F1; that explained his luxurious taste. Charles had yet to officially tell her about his profession. He kept the answers vague when asked about his work, enough that he didn't give it away but enough to not tell the complete truth. Y/N wasn't going to end his fun, he could tell her when he wanted to, she decided.

Charles wanted to show her what he did and finally stop lying about his career, he thought. So a week before a GP he called her; Y/N answered immediately. "HI CHARLIE" Y/N's voice echoed through the phone. "I missed you," she continued. " Not as much as I missed you." Charles cooed. "That's why I was hoping maybe you would like to come see me." Charles asked hopefully. Y/N smiled. She wouldn't give up the opportunity to see her boyfriend but she wouldn't be able to buy a flight ticket on such short notice. "Ahh, baby, as much as I would love to see you and hug you and kiss you; I won't be able to fly out to Monaco anytime soon." Y/N added. "Who said anything about Monaco?" Charles questioned. "I'm gonna be in Monza, Italy for work, this weekend. You can join me too." Charles said. "Won't your bosses hate me, for disturbing your work trip." Y/N joked. "They wouldn't dare" Charles declared. "On one condition." Y/N said. "And what is that?" Charles asked. "Dinner date at the most fanciest restaurant in Monza on Sunday?!" Y/N said hesitantly. That was the easiest thing. Charles wouldn't mind spending the night with his girlfriend. The perfect end to Ferrari's home race, he thought. "By the way, there's a race this weekend, you might want to keep some casual clothes for the race." Charles said in the most nonchalant way as possible. "OOhhh, races aren't really my thing." Y/N chided. She was in the mood to mess with her Charlie. "Its so boring to watch rich men drive around in circles" she moaned. "I promise you, you'll have fun. Don't worry." Charles tried to reason with her. "If it's required for your 'work' thing, than I can be a supportive partner I guess." she groaned while looking like she was in deep thought.

Friday came around a lot quicker than Y/N expected. Charles had flown her out. At the hotel, they got dressed to leave for media day for the race. "I don't see the charm of going on a day when there are no races." Y/N said as she fixed her white shirt. She had looked up all the Pinterest mood boards for how a Ferrari driver's girlfriend should look and did a bit of shopping. Who knew a Ferrari jacket cost that much, she thought. This was the last time she was gonna tease Charles; she took the Red Bulls Racing hat out and put it on her head. Charles mouth dropped open, "Are you wearing that?" he stuttered out. "My friend said I should support a team, so she lend me her RedBull's hat" Y/N read out from the cap. "I can get you stuff, don't worry about that." Charles was out of words, how could his girlfriend be wearing the opponents merch. He quickly rummaged through his stuff to get his Ferrari shirt out and on himself before his girlfriend jumped ships. Watching Charles made Y/N burst out laughing. "God, I can't keep this up. I was gonna wait for you to tell me." Y/N said in between laughs while putting the Ferrari jacket on and keeping the RedBulls cap away. Charles was now standing in front of her. She knew; the whole time. "I know you are an F1 driver for Ferrari. One quick google search and your face is plastered all over my screen." Y/N said while cupping his face. "Why didn't you tell me that you knew?" Charles enquired. "I was hoping you would tell me what you do, like I told you what I did." Y/N replied matter-of-factly. Charles closed the distance between them and kissed her lips.

All of these good memories seemed to have been over shadowed in both Charles and Y/N's mind as the two stood in the hotel in Austria, 2 years later. Y/N had only told Charles that work was gonna be hectic for the next couple months and she wanted to focus on it since she could be promoted. Charles wasn't willing to reason, he kept up the demand that Y/N drop everything for him. "Why can't you be like the other girlfriends? Who are there to support their boyfriend? I literally have to beg you to be there for me." Charles shouted. Y/N was taken aback, "Baby, I've been there as much as I could be, you know me and work." she tried to reason. "No, I don't and I don't wanna know either. If you love work so much, then why are you even dating me?" Charles asked. "You did not just say that, Charlie, I love you and that's why I take the time out to spend it with you. Obviously, I wanna be there as much as I can but it isn't possible with work and stuff." Y/N answered. "If you can't be there for me when I need you, then I don't need you" Charles said. "You don't mean that" Y/N lips quivered and the tears threatened to spill. "We are done Y/N, have fun with work and all the things more important to you than me." with that Charles left their shared hotel room with all his stuff.

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Quirk Bracelet

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

➤ After some new developments, Bakugo can’t sleep, and not just that, his quirk is out of control and you guys have to find a solution before he completely loses it

»»——⍟——««A/n: hey yall… listen i know it’s been a hot minute but i had a little spike so expect some stuff😅and honestly hopefully i can get back in the swing

Masterlist

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ Requests open　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

Being the girlfriend of someone like Bakugo Kasuki is not what people would expect it to be. He's gentle toward you, so gentle and even loving. You'd go as far as to describe it as a type of "basic" and "rom-com" love, the way he genuinely does get softer for you and only you.

Only you can tease him and not get yelled at. Only you can mess with his hair or playfully bug him, and he barely bats an eye.

Now, Katsuki Bakugo was raised right. He knows how to be a gentleman, someone with manners and class, well, as classy as he can get, but he'd never put his hands on you, get physical with you, or use his quirk on you. Even play fighting was iffy to him for the first few months of you guys dating. Everyone knows Katsuki is a hothead, but those rules go for everyone, not just you. He may threaten. He may yell, but he has decorum, so he knows never to use his quirk on someone just because he's playing around. Eight times out of ten, he's not using his quirk for malicious reasons, and even then, it's not extreme. But still, it's never on you.

Katsuki has always had amazing control, especially around you. When you started dating, he made it a goal to be sure he never somehow hurt you with his powers. He's used to doing things alone, little lapses in his powers, or the messy nature he has when alone has to get completely under control. His getting comfortable around you makes him exceptionally more focused on watching what he does.

And he's always been perfect at it, until now.

Bakugo is sweating. He's stiff, flitching every few seconds, his breath hitching. He's asleep, but his hands start getting flooded with moisture as his heart rate increases. If he were alone, it wouldn't matter, but he's not. You're peacefully asleep next to him, curled up, your back against his chest, and his body leaned over you.

If Bakugo were awake, he'd know what was about to happen. He'd calm himself or get away from you immediately if he knew he couldn't stop it, but he's deep in sleep, deep in the dream that's disturbing his sleep, and before anyone knows it, sparks fly.

Katsuki wouldn't have even woken up if it wasn't for your body jolting away from his and the painful sound leaving your lips as you fell to the floor of his bedroom. He shoots up, his eyes blinking, trying to adjust to the light, not even registering what happened or what he did. He jumps to the floor, his hands immediately going out to you.

He stands up quickly, only to turn on his bedside light before quickly turning back to you, and that's when he freezes, his eyes widening, seeing the burn on your nightshirt that reaches the skin on your stomach and your arm.

"Y/n. Oh my god, Y/n, I'm so sorry," Katsuki says breathlessly, not knowing what to do.

"It's ok," you hiss, your words coming out quickly as you clutch your side. "It's ok." Bakugo quickly scoops you up in his arms, rushing out and immediately going to the infirmary.

It was about 3 am, so Bakugo banged on the door until poor Recovery Girl answered, groggy and annoyed, but all those feelings quickly faded when she saw you hurt, curled in his arms.

The burns were thankfully not too bad. Recovery Girl only left you with some medicine to sleep and ointment, and she said it'll probably leave a scar. Bakugo walked with you back to your room, nodded goodnight, and turned to leave. "Katsuki, where are you going?" He stops and turns back to you but doesn't say anything. His eyes only linger on your charred shirt and wrapped arm. "It was an accident. You can stay, Katsu, it's ok."

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, his eyes looking everywhere but never meeting yours. "It's late, Y/n. You should get sleep while you still can." You roll your eyes, stretching out your hand and grabbing him, pulling him back into your room and to your bed. You push him to sit down, change your shirt, and then join him in bed. It takes time, but he wraps his arms around you as you settle in, drifting to sleep.

It's been a week. You thought things would get better, that maybe it was one and done and you wouldn't have to worry anymore, or rather, you wouldn't have to worry about Kastuki anymore, but you were wrong, very wrong. First, it happened while he was taking a nap in the living room area. You were sitting next to him, watching TV, and suddenly the pillow his hand was on burst into flames. Then, it happened again when he dozed off while you both were studying. He jolted, and his papers burned.

You keep trying to reassure him, promise him everything will be ok, that it's only a phase, but it's doing nothing to ease his nerves. It takes one more time, you, him, and your other classmates are eating dinner and watching and movie. Katsuki ate, but he's now staring off at the TV, his eyes red, his body slumped, and he looks a wreck, very unlike his usual self. Again, he starts drifting, his headbobbing, eyes dropping, and within seconds, sparks flying in the palm of his hand.

Katsuki strengthens up, looking around before abruptly standing and storming off toward the dorm rooms. You stand, running after him. "Hey, Katsuki, Hey!"

He stops and turns. "Y/n. Please. I just need some space. I need sleep. I need- I don't know." You don't know what to say. You know he's struggling but don't know how to help. He runs his hands through his hair, the way he does when he's frustrated, letting out a sigh. "I don't know why this's happening. I can't get decent sleep. I don't even remember the dreams that are doing this to me." You can hear the defeat and desperation in his voice.

You do the only thing you can think of, and that's pulling him into a hug. You feel his body mold onto yours, his head tucking into your neck. You stay like that, racking your brain to find a solution, and when you find one, you pull away.

"Katsuki, I think it's time you go to Mr Aizawa." It's an unspoken rule among everyone that when there's a problem, you fix it. No one ever goes to the teachers, but in this case, you think it's time to break that rule.

"Yeah," he sighs. "I think you're right."

When you go to Aizawa and tell him what's been going on, he's not too worried. He said he'd seen things like that in heroes before, the only real concern is how powerful Bakugo's quirk is. He said it's a psychological block he's seen heroes experience. It causes dreams that whoever suffers from it won't remember, but in the dreams, everything is so real that it also causes quirks to activate.

Everyone has different experiences and symptoms, but from what you told Aizawa, he knew what Bakugo needed. A quirk bracket. Used to dampen powers for heroes, during sleep or the regular day. It won't stop his dreams, but since he won't remember them anyway that won't be too much of a problem, plus he'll be able to catch up on his sleep.

That night after you see Aizawa, you and Bakugo go back to his room and start getting ready for bed. "Why'd he have to tie this stupid thing so tight," Katsuki grunts, looking at his wrist.

"Cause you don't want it to fall off, and then you blow up the whole building," you laugh and settle in next to him. His eyes flicker to yours and then back down at his wrist. "Come on." You lay down and open your arms for him.

He hesitates but settles in. It doesn't matter the thoughts going through his head or how much he may be scared to hurt you again because the facts are that he hasn't slept, and because of that alone, the second he lays down, his eyes close, and he's drifted off.

Masterlist

[earthnashes]

Hello there! If I may ask about your oc Sakura, how did you go about conceptualizing her? Was there any characters or media that inspired her design? How did her character change to what it is now? Apologies for this many questions, feel free to choose just one when you have time; love your work!

Hello! You may indeed ask about my baby! 🥹

So for context, Feathers and Flowers' birthing concept was about a girl summoning a demon because she was lonely but too shy to make her own friends, so she concludes summoning a demon would somehow be easier. In that iteration of the story, Sakura was meant to be a side character; a friend to the main characters that acted as the ultimate foil to basically everyone around her. She combated Kaela's crippling anxiety by being confident and overwhelmingly outgoing, contrasted Evangeline's bossy, bitchy attitude with being kind and friendly, and be the opposite of Mal's stoic, silent character with being expressive and chatty. I also needed a character that could conveniently know enough about niche media to reasonably be able to help Kaela summon her demon in the first place, so I ended up making her a huge geek: she loved anime, video games, and had knowledge on obscure things... including occult summonings xD

So I worked off that idea to form her appearance. Again her core direction was to be a foil to all of the main cast: Kaela was short and soft. Evangeline was tall and thin. Mal was tal and hard. I wanted Sakura to be the biggest character, so she originally started started out compact and wide. Her face was what I started with: I wanted her to look somewhat like an anime character, and her inspiration was based off of the older episodes of Dragonball, Pokemon, Tenchi Muyo, Ranma, Inuyasha. I basically wanted her to have Goku vibes (his wide dark eyes, his big smile, his open and easy personality) but with Inuyasha's hairstyle (she originally had long hair).

But then the story changed; it wasn't about a demon being summoned in a silly slice-of-life story but a Spirit getting lost in a magical modern era, still very much slice of life.

That ultimately shifted Sakura's design into something more athletic; football specifically. I wanted her to keep her dorky traits but pair it with the popular star athlete trope, so she became leaner, taller, and more "top heavy". She also became more oblivious; she remained sweet and friendly and outgoing, but in turn she didn't understand when someone liked her. In fact she was later canonized to be asexual originally didn't have romance planned for her character.

Fastforward to now: the story of F&F has changed again. While the core remains mostly the same (found family), it ironically shifted into something much closer to one of the earlier concepts of the story; something more serious and not slice of life, something that focuses more on the good and bad of a world instead of being predominantly lighthearted. So with that change the characters had to get a tune-up to their characterizations. Sakura received the biggest change, I think.

Her core remains true: she's relentlessly kind, expressive, a dork. But I decided to make that her biggest strength and her biggest flaw, as well as making her loving personality be conflicted by how the world views her by changing her appearance. That's how we get current Sakura: she's kind, she's loving, she wants to help others. But people think she's a threat, a ticking timebomb, because of what she is. So her once open smile is now more manufactured, a wall to protect herself, a farce to try and make herself look less like a threat. She's now a pushover; she can't establish her boundaries without it being misinterpreted as being aggressive, so her coping mechanism is to grin and bear it. She can't get visiblt upset or angry, so she has to fight for calm to have even the smallest chance of being listened to. She's "nice" because it's all she's allowed to be.

Hence her appearance change! She is now the largest character in the main roster, the physically strongest. Her smile is now "tainted" by sabre teeth she can't hide, her size contradicts her gentle nature.

It's late for me so I'm sure I forgot a few things but that's what I got for now! If you're interested I could show older concept work of Sakura to illustrate how she looked then vs how she looks now too. But ye! Thank you so much for asking about my character! 🥹🙏