#for real guys!!! posted in other places but this has to go out to tumblr first and foremost

[judasisgayriot]

Got up at 4am to watch the solstice sunrise…

Met on tumblr in 2013 – got together 2016 – ENGAGED IRL 2024!! 🥰🥰🥰🌅🌅🌅

From our Les Mis origins, @buildarocketboys has joined me in many fandoms over the years – and now we’ll be joining each other in, like, actual marriage ‼️

Tumblr truly is a dating site THANKS TUMBLRINAS ✌️

[secondbeatsongs]

Food Crime: Frosty the Slawman

so a while ago, I saw this photo going around on tumblr:

at first, I thought this was photoshopped. I mean, "welcome new man in your life"? that feels like a translation error, or someone being silly on purpose.

but guess what! turns out, Frosty Slaw Man is real!

and soon...he will be mine. let's get cooking

(full disclosure: I crafted this snowman and took notes about it over a year ago. and then, like with many things in my life, I forgot about him, and let him drift into the ADHD void of Things I'm Not Currently Staring At, where object permanence is tentative and largely unrealized.

but here we are! and here he is: the slaw man. it's time to share him with you, so that you can suffer as I have suffered, and/or rejoice in my gelatin creation!)

so this recipe photo originally came from Mid-Century Menu (archive link), a blog that seems like one after my own heart, and which once tried to make the Slaw Man (with not much success; but we'll get back to that)! but it's not just that blog that has copies of this ad. I also found it on reddit, and in a few different places on ebay!

lookit that guy! he's a real guy!

both the reddit post and some of the ebay listings say that this is from 1963 (though I haven't been able to figure out which magazines it was printed in, to confirm this for myself). but in looking this up, I discovered something else fun! there's another version of this ad!

Best Foods is what Hellmann's stuff is called on the west coast, and the "this is no place for second best" thing makes a lot more sense when you consider that the ad was probably made for Best Foods first, and then just reused and rebranded for the east coast

the more you know!

anyway the benefit of finding this alternate ad is that the scan on this image is a lot clearer, and so the recipe is more readable! and in looking at it, I've realized something important:

when Mid-Century Menu tried this recipe, they got an ingredient amount wrong.

when they made their beloved Slaw Man, they had the water amount written down as 1/4 cup, but looking at this scan up close, it is actually 3/4 cup of water! something that might make a significant difference, considering we're working with gelatin!

(there's also another change I want to make compared to what they did, when I do this recipe. but we'll get into that in a sec.)

for now: we begin

so. there's no way I'm making a Slaw Man this large. I am just one person, and considering the ingredients of this, I don't think I'm going to be able to consume that much Slaw.

two entire heads of cabbage? three pounds of cottage cheese, a thing that I don't even like to eat? no. that's a bad idea.

so I'm starting small here and making this 1/3 the size of the original:

2 packets of unflavored gelatin 1/4 cup cold water 1 cup mayo 1 tsp salt 1lb cottage cheese 4 cups shredded cabbage

surely this will result in a reasonable amount of Man

...okay, I started chopping the cabbage thinking it would be easier, but I've given up and pulled out a grater. this is much better! and somehow more violent (affectionate)

the recipe says to soften the gelatin in cold water, and then stir over hot water until it's dissolved. I'm going to assume "stir over hot water" means a double boiler, so let's do that

hmmm, the gelatin is very foamy? it’s melted, but the bottom of the pot feels really....sticky

okay. after a couple minutes more and no change, I’m calling this good enough.

so one thing that others who have attempted this recipe have not taken into consideration is the cottage cheese. you see, the others used normal cottage cheese, but the recipe says to use "cottage cheese, cream style"

I’ll be real, I’m not 100% what that means, since we don’t have that here. but I can take an educated guess! so let’s blend the cottage cheese!

(with an immersion blender. I am not willing to wash an actual blender because of this)

mmm, yes. very smooth

...actually. why isn't all cottage cheese like this? the thing I hate about cottage cheese is the texture, so why isn't it all smooth and creamy like this?? I could eat this!!

a new discovery is made every day in this house.

okay, time to start mixing things together.

ah, frosty. I opened a whole new thing of mayo for you! do you feel special?

(I'd make a "pre-dinner snack?" joke, but sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time)

okay, the mayo, cottage cheese, and salt have been added to the gelatin. but as this cools, the texture is getting...hmm. less than appealing.

lastly: the cabbage

oh. oh this is not very nice

next it says to pack the "salad" into a one pound container, and two six-cup bowls, but since I made this recipe so much smaller, I'm going to uhhhh. uh. find some bowls that seem like they'd be correct...snowman? proportions?

ah. this bowl is too big.

hey, these'll work!

now I just have to let them chill for a while, and continue another day.

(edit from current!me: ahhh oh my god I forgot this was pretty soon after we adopted Jackie! look at these cat pics that I took while I was food crime-ing!

look at them having their little interactions! Knuckles was trying so hard to be friends with her! I love them)

hello! two days later and we are ready to assemble the slawman. and my sibling has started referring to him as "frosty: attorney at slaw", so that's fun.

I've done a thing where, as these set, I flipped them around in the bowl so that hopefully they'd be more round. we'll see if they actually stay like this.

I have also made some decorations for him out of peppers, olives, and carrots!

let's build our boy

oh he's so heavy. and wobbly

no no no he almost fell over!!

okay. he's fine. but more skewers were needed.

and...okay. he is complete.

behold!

gaze upon my beautiful man!

(he is not structurally sound! he wobbles unsteadily as I rotate him! there are already cracks forming in the gelatin around where his arms are! don't worry about it!)

 now it's time to stab him

and...to devour him

this tastes like...a bland coleslaw? and not even that. it's just sort of a salty, cottage cheese-y cabbage. the ingredients don't combine to become something greater, they simply...sit there. like this.

and the texture is...mmm. it's not a jello kind of texture, but it is a bit squashy in a way that's mildly strange.

it's very creamy once it softens in your mouth.

...I don't like this!

and look! taking just that one chunk from him was enough to destabilize him entirely :(

RIP frosty. now I just have to see if I can eat all of you before you go bad.

(note from current!me: I could not.

 I ate maybe half of him over the course of many days, often adding other stuff to him to try to add some flavor: bacon, frozen peas, cheese, etc. but even with that, I just couldn't stomach him.

after a while I stuck what was left of him in the freezer, hoping that maybe I'd find the will to consume the rest of him some other day.

do you know what a frozen-and-then-thawed mixture of cabbage, cottage cheese, mayo, and gelatin looks and tastes like?

bad. the answer is: bad.

I threw him out pretty quickly after thawing him.

do not try this recipe at home)

[buntanteen]

bestie fwb!mingyu headcanons (nsfw)

summary: kim mingyu and reader's bestie fwb dynamic headcanons :3

contains: 18+ nsfw writing so mdni!! implications that reader is smaller than gyu

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

bestie!minyu who is just a poor puppy not catching a break from anyone 😔 especially from you lmao. you're one of his biggest supporters but also biggest teasers. post-concert, you'll be imitating how he's trying to make carats swoon with his charms (the both of you know how proud you are of him <3 you just love seeing him pouty) 

bestie!mingyu who lets you use his chest as a stress balls. you once said "honk honk" while squeezing them and got your mingyu tiddies card revoked for a week😢

during bestie!mingyu’s night dance practices to finish, he'll come whine to you that "jeonghan hyung is being mean🥺" or complain about whichever member is pulling jokes on him. he should've known better that you’d be riling him right with them 🥰

fwb!mingyu who comes home to bury his face in your chest after a long day. you think he's knocked out...only for him to start licking, nipping and sucking marks onto your skin :3

bestie!mingyu who will always provide you delicious meals😌😌 is constantly cooking you a something when you come over and has deemed you his official taste tester! if you insist to cook alongside him, he'll refuse. he might let you peel the veggies tho <3

when you go out to eat, bestie!mingyu will always insists on picking up the cheque. since you get pouty about him not letting you pay, he lets u buy the dessert at the convenience stores or cute lil cafes as a compromise

bestie!mingyu who always asks you to take pretty boyfriend pics of him for his carats🥹 ofc you oblige, loving to see his fans fawn over new pictures that you so carefully asking him to pose for  

fwb!mingyu who begs to eat you out and hits you his 🥺 puppy eyes so you to let him (you were going to anyways)

bestie!mingyu who comes to you for relaxation or advice when he's stressed out of his mind. he lets you pamper him with gentle touches and soothe away his worries with sweet words. you tuck him into your bed so he rests well to tackle the next day😊

feeling safe enough to initiate touch with bestie!mingyu :) he gives as many piggy backs as you desire as long as you let him bite his fangs into your arm when he's bored 🥰 sits you in his lap in crowded group hangouts. you've insisted that he sit in yours too, but your legs became numb after 5 minutes😭😭

good puppy fwb!mingyu whimpering pleads against your neck or between your legs for you give him permission to cum while he ruts against the bed sheets 🥺

always having sleepovers with bestie!mingyu. atp you could be another roommate to the minwon household for how often you're just vibing at their place when they arrive home

fwb!mingyu who got caught sniffing your underwear post sex when you went to get him water. you end up stroking his hair with his head in your lap, jerking him off with your underwear around his cock...but you leave him blue balled as a punishment <3 "oh! i'm late to work, see you later after your tour?😘”

while he's on tour, fwb!mingyu won't have phone sex with you, but leaves you voice notes of the pretty noises he makes jerking off as payback <3

bun note: hi hi! this is my first time writing wooooo~ this was definitely self indulgent😅 i just wanna be friends with mingyu! he seems like the most fun guy to hang out with...and to get dicked down by lmao. i hope y'all enjoyed it and are doing well!! i tried for something gender neutral but i'm not sure if i achieved it? feel free to kindly give feedback <3 ς(.-‿-)

author note: do not distribute my work on other platforms without my consent. if you see my writing in places other than this tumblr account, please let me know. my writings are purely fictional fantasises for fun. the people i write about are real human beings and should still be treated as such. please do not take my writings seriously or as truth.

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 6

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.) ✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.) ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie ✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it. ✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: THIS IS SOFTTT YO, these two belong together <3, BUT Is Yoongi bout to fumble MC (he’s still such a guy), Sung Kyung in her villain era, mention of pornography, reunion with a precious lil someone, not betaread (I don't have an L&L beta, so…), implied sex, includes fake tumblr/discord usernames—any likeness to real moots is purely coincidental lol pls dont at me 👀 ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 3.8k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: June 26, 2025 ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Oh hi there! I guess some of you thought with how Part 5 ended that it was the last chapter. Well somehow, it’s not! As always, I keep clowning myself with how L&L is going to go. It’s all just vibes at this point. Consider this the beginning of the next Act if you will. This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. And thank you, Yoongi, for teaching and playing music for kids with autism. You inspire me everyday in every way.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

You’ve only got one hand free—your other is balancing a box of those orange pastries Yoongi won’t shut up about, so you reach for the keypad to his apartment, thumb tapping the code you now know by heart: Haneul’s birthday.

But the second you swing the door open, you freeze.

Standing in the entryway, pulling a sleek beige coat over her shoulders, is none other than Lee Sung Kyung.

“Oh,” she says, blinking, brows lifting ever so slightly. “Hi.”

You take in the scene: her boots by the door, a cup half-full on the counter. It’s not that scandalous, not exactly, but it sure as hell isn’t nothing, either.

You tilt your head, offering a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hi.”

“I know you. You’re the temp nanny, no? My son isn’t here, though.”

Oh wow. So that’s how she’s playing this.

You take a second, studying her face. Her expression is neutral, but her lips are just a little too tight. You have a feeling she knows exactly who you are. This isn’t ignorance. It’s a power play. A test.

Calculating your next move, you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek—a habit you unknowingly picked up from Yoongi.

Speak of the devil. Behind her, Yoongi appears from the hallway, brows raised in alarm like he’s already running a thousand calculations on how catastrophic this looks. “You’re early,” he says to you, and then, to Sung Kyung, “I thought you were already gone.”

“I was just leaving,” she says airily, turning to glance over her shoulder. “But I couldn’t stop myself from tidying up our son’s room. His toys are all over the place.”

It isn’t. And you know it.

“Didn’t realize you were expecting company,” she jabs.

“Didn’t think I needed an appointment,” you counter, lifting the box slightly. “Brought your favorite,” you say to Yoongi, keeping your voice steady.

“Oh, but his actual favorites are the lemon tarts from Tartine?”

Ah. So she really wants to do this.

“Well,” you smile sugary, tilting your head, “you’ve been gone a while, haven’t you? He has a new favorite now.”

Sung Kyung mirrors your smile—tight, polished, and laced with something sharp.

You know Yoongi knows a cat fight is in his midst, and it would be in everyone's best interest that he does something, anything. He runs a hand over his hair, gripping his scalp tight, clearly dying inside. “Okay,” he mutters, eyes flicking between you and her. “Time to wrap this up.”

“But you haven’t even properly introduced us.” Sung Kyung grins and it’s fake as fuck. She turns to you again, not waiting on Yoongi to make the intro. “I'm Sung Kyung, Haneul’s mom, but you already knew that.”

“Y/N, Haneul’s teacher.” You let the silence stretch just a beat too long before adding:

“And Yoongi’s girlfriend… in case you didn’t know.”

There it is—a micro-flinch. Just the tiniest tick in her jaw. But it’s enough.

“Nice to meet you,” she lies, her smile stretched just a little too tight.

“Likewise,” you reply, voice honeyed. You don’t follow her with your eyes, but you do listen for the satisfying whirr of the front door locking shut.

As soon as it clicks, Yoongi groans, dragging a hand through his hair. 

“Damn, why are you so useless, bro?” you deadpan as you eye your useless boyfriend. You walk to the kitchen counter and place the box of pastries on the marble slab.

“Knew you could handle her. Wait, did you just call me bro?”

“Lucky I didn’t call you a dumbass.”

Yoongi’s at your side in an instant. “I didn’t know she was coming. I swear.”

You open the cupboard to get plates. He watches you carefully as he takes the plates from you, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s in trouble. He is, but, god that cute manbun atop his head is really doing something to you.

Because you’re too damn soft for him, you try a smile again, something less performative, as he puts the plates beside the pastry box. He suddenly pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. 

“I missed you,” he mumbles into your hair. It’s been days after all since you last saw each other.

You let the moment hang, let him get comfortable in your arms, rest his cheek on your shoulder, before you pull back just enough to look at him.

“Is that right,” you tease, voice unimpressed. “But weren’t you just playing house with your ex today?”

Yoongi immediately cups your face in his big, warm hands, squishing your cheeks such that your lips are pouting. “Baby. Sarang. I promise you I didn’t know she was coming. She dropped by to see Han. That’s it. I haven’t told her he’s in Daegu.” To top it off, he plants a kiss square on your jutting lips.

“Mhm.” You peel his palms away from your face to plate the orange danishes. “Looks like she enjoyed my silver moon tea?”

“I offered out of politeness…” he says. To his credit, he looks like he is immediately regretting this decision.

“Anything else that’s mine that she got to enjoy today?”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Come on. Don’t do this. You know it’s not like that.”

“Oh, I know,” you say sweetly, stepping in closer, “but it’s kind of fun watching you shit yourself.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re evil.”

“I’m literally an angel,” you correct, referring to the box of pastries again. “See? Still brought you these. You’re actual favorite.”

“Not gonna lie,” he leans forward. “You being possessive and shit, is actually super hot.”

You eye him suspiciously. “Did you think we were gonna fight over you then suddenly make out? This ain't one of your pornos.” You smirk pushing his face away.

He chuckles heartily, shoulders bobbing like an asshole.

“You’re lucky I didn’t make you sweat more.”

“You are making me sweat,” he mutters. “My pits are soaked. Am I in trouble? Because I still don't know at this point.”

You remember Namjoon’s advice. He told you to take it easy on Yoongi, because of all the pressure he’s been under lately. Maybe you don’t know all of it. You know it’s hard on him, but you also need your answers. If you are to really be in a relationship with him, there should be trust, and there shouldn’t be any secrets, too.

“Look, baby,” you place your hands on his shoulders, the tension easing slightly as he exhales. “First of all, change your shirt, then we will enjoy our pastries with tea and we can talk about it.” You say the last part with a small shrug, your smugness from earlier dissipating naturally.

Yoongi blinks once, and before you know what’s happening he is tugging his tshirt up, torso naked, flushed and a little shiny from sweat. The smell of musk and pheromones fill your lungs stat and you almost jump his bones in the middle of his kitchen. Miraculously, you find the sense to stop yourself.

“That's not gonna work…” you say, even as your eyes dip to the waistband of his sweats towards that tiny trail of fuzz.

“Oh?” he asks, biting his bottom lip.

Your lips twitch. “Fine. Pastries first. Kisses after.” You lean up, just brushing your mouth against his before you push him towards the hallway.

Sunday mornings are glorious. Especially this one.

You’re trying to decide whether you want more coffee or another round in Yoongi’s bed. And the fact that these are even your choices… yeah, again, fuckin’ GLORIOUS.

You’re in one of his old d-day tour shirts, sleep shorts you brought, hair a little rumpled. You feel so cozy and warm, wrapped in that easy, lazy comfort that follows a night like last night. He said he wanted to cook something before you left—breakfast, lunch, whatever time it was now—and he’s currently standing in front of the fridge, smelling something in a tupperware.

Then, you hear it. The beep of the front door. Little footsteps padding in.

“Appa!”

The tiny voice is unmistakable. You tense up, mug halfway to your lips.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, whipping your head toward Yoongi.

Yoongi’s eyes widen like he just remembered something crucial, like his son—the literal child he’s responsible for—might’ve slipped his mind. “Shit,” he says under his breath, already moving. “I was gonna tell you. Eomma’s bringing him home today.”

His EOMMA?! Fuckity fuuuuuuckk!

You don’t even get a chance to react (let alone hide) before Haneul toddles into the kitchen, backpack sliding off one shoulder, cheeks pink from the wind outside. He makes a delighted little sound when he sees you and hurls himself at your legs. You crouch just in time to catch him.

“Sarang!”

“Oh, sarang,” you breathe, pressing a kiss to his temple as he wiggles into your arms. “You’re back! Look at you, you’re so big now. I missed you.”

“Big,” Haneul says proudly. 

You laugh, hugging him tighter. “Yes, you are.”

“Appa’s right here, buddy,” Yoongi points at himself playfully. “I need a big ol’ hug, too.”

A soft voice interrupts from the doorway. “So you’re the Sarang he kept asking for.”

You look up to see Yoongi’s mom setting down a small duffel and a paper bag. Oh shit, you look like shit and she’s regal.

She’s dressed warm, a cardigan layered over a knit turtleneck, and her eyes soften when they land on you. Yoongi really takes after her.

There’s a flicker of something like déjà vu… the same look she gave you during Haneul’s first birthday when you handed her a plate of japchae and offered to hold Han while she ate.

Yoongi takes the paper bag and moves behind the counter beside you. You stand, wiggling your shorts down to make th longer, hide your legs more. Unfortunately, it ain’t working.

“Eomma,” Yoongi starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is Y/N.”

“We’ve met,” she says, though her tone is more amused than anything. 

Yoongi and you speak at the same time.

Him: “She’s my girlfriend.”

You: “Pardon how I—“

You look up from your bow, his words taking you by surprise. God he really sprung it on his mom like that—is he insane?! 

Yoongi’s eomma nods slowly, a smile playing in her lips. “You don’t have to apologize. We’re family here.”

Relief slowly washes over you as you stand there frozen and still mildly embarrassed, the feeling of a warm hand against the base of your spine being the only thing to thaw you out.

“Y/N is the head teacher at the HYBE daycare,” Yoongi says in a tone akin to a proud father. You warm further.

“Oh,” she nods. “That’s really good.”

“Thank you for bringing him,” Yoongi says as he takes out the banchan from the bag, stacking them on the kitchen island. “Were there paps outside?”

“No more. Those scums.” She replies with a shake of her head. “Han’s happier when he’s here at home.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi mutters, eyes flicking to you. “Me too.”

“I’m not gonna stay long.”

“You sure? I’m cooking…”

“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Min.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “You don’t have to be formal with me. I’m happy Yoongi has someone to make sure he eats properly and wakes up when he snores.”

Yoongi’s now red in the face as Han climbs him like a monkey.

“Alright, I’m going. I’ve got some errands to run. Yoongi, Y/N. Darling…” She kisses Haneul’s cheek and just like that, she’s gone.

The apartment is quiet again. Yoongi is staring at you, equal parts apologetic and amused, as he sets Haneul down.

“You okay?” he asks carefully, as if you might combust.

You nod, following Haneul to the living room. “Yeah. A little warning would’ve been nice, but I’m starting to get used to having mini heart attacks when I’m around you.”

“I just thought it would make you happy. Seeing him again.”

Your heart softens. “Of course it does. A lot.”

“And I don’t want to give you heart attacks, okay? What I want is for you to feel safe with me.”

He takes a step closer, hugging you from behind and suddenly you’re Jack and Rose from the Titanic movie. You laugh, it’s silly. But perhaps you make a pretty picture, if a little curious for an innocent mind, because Haneul is staring at you both, babbling something incoherent but joyful.

“Welcome home, sarang.” You smile. It really does feel like home.

When you finally take a moment to just chill after work, your social media feed dishes the latest gossip about the new couple of the moment: “Sung Kyung & Yoongi.” Apparently, their couple's name is Kyungi or whatever. It’s superrr dumb.

You roll your eyes. You shouldn’t be indulging in this fodder, but you’re a masochist. Anyway, it’s just the same recycled clips: their laugh during that Suchwi­ta interview, the way they’re wearing the same necklace, the same flannel shirt. But there’s new “evidence” from her stories where she’d tagged her new theater rehearsal with Yoongi’s D‑2 album sticker artfully tucked in the corner. It has their fans spiraling, convinced it’s a secret sign. It’s not true, but you feel the pulse of irritation rise. Yoongi’s moved on, you’re here building your own life with him, and none of this recycled garbage changes that.

You kneel down to gather the rainbow sorting cubes scattered across the mat, slipping them into the plastic bin one by one. 

The door slides open, and you glance up just as Yoongi steps inside. His face is drawn, eyes shadowed from a day too long and too loud. He doesn’t say anything at first, just drops his bag near the shelf and sinks to his knees beside you.

“Didn’t expect you here,” you say gently.

He offers a faint smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wanna go home.”

You don’t ask what he means. You don’t need to. The tabloid content is still sitting in the back of your mind, chaotic and unwanted. And maybe his, too. It weighs on him, what you think.

“Can you hand me those animal puzzles?” you ask instead, tilting your head toward the open box nearby. 

Yoongi nods, passing them over wordlessly. You both clean in silence for a few more minutes.

When the room is back in order, you flick off the lights and turn to him. “Let’s go.”

He nods. “Can you stay tonight? I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Of course.” You don’t say anything else. His somber eyes and quiet presence says enough about the weight of the world on his shoulders. You just want to carry it with him.

You spend a quiet night in, massaging the tension off his back, tucking yourself against the curve of his body, taking care of him the way you know he won’t ask for, but always needs.

Late afternoon sunlight slants through the windows, laying golden trails across the Min men’s living room.

One of them is dancing with you, little hands clapping off-beat as you jump with him to “Hop Little Bunnies” on the TV. He’s squealing in delight, his tiny legs kicking excitedly while you sway, both of you singing, laughing.

The other one is sprawled on the couch with his legs outstretched, watches with that gummy smile that melts you every time. As the song ends, he sits up, something bright in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, reaching to ruffle Haneul’s hair gently, “You use music at the daycare, right, for activities?”

“Of course,” you say, bouncing Han gently on your hip. “The kids love it. Why?”

He rubs the back of his neck, hesitant but excited. “I want to come by sometime… maybe play for them. Just fun songs they can move to. And I get to spend more time with you and Han.”

Your heart swells. “Yoongi,” you say, unable to hide your grin. “That’s such a good idea. They’d love that. I’d love that.”

He nods, lips curving into something shy but warm. “Cool. Just let me know when. I’ll bring my guitar.”

You’ve just finished recess at the daycare, and the room fills with the soft babbles of toddlers with post-snack zoomies. You glance over to see Yoongi carrying his guitar case through the door, a small smile on his face. You wave him in.

He gets settled by the little music corner, where there are colorful cushions, a toy piano, and a small speaker.

You introduce him. Not as SUGA. Not as Agust D. Not as Yoongi-ssi.

But as Teacher Min.

He waves in smol.

You tell the kids to clap for Teacher Min and his ears turn pink.

All the kids take turns to introduce themselves. And when it is Haneul’s turn, stars take shape in his pupils.

It’s so endearing, how Yoongi’s nervous at first. As if he has not sold out stadiums all over the world. It’s an audience of five plus you, and you can see the slight shake of his fingers when he adjusts the guitar on his knee.

You put a palm on his shoulder, just a slight reassuring touch while you address the kids and encourage them to sing and dance along. 

He strums a soft chord and launches into a gentle acoustic rendition of “Wheels on the Bus.” You sing with him and soon the kids are rolling their arms, wiggling their bums, and jumping about.

He does a few more songs after that. Every chord seems to loosen shoulders. Yoongi’s voice is sweet and a little gravelly, but surprisingly melodic, each word clear and comforting. He engages the children, encouraging them to clap along, to sing softly, to move their little hands in rhythm. 

You are by his side, heart expanding with so much happiness you think it’s gonna burst.

Midway through, his eyes light up when he locks with yours, the same sparkle you saw that one time in his living room, when he was playing with Haneul, before everything shifted and shifted again. And in that moment, something crystallizes within you, a realization so profound it makes your chest squeeze. 

Fuck. 

This is love. 

That night, you sleep over in his place. It feels natural at this point, and you’ve mastered the usual precautions—the mask, the back doors, and delayed exits. It’s all part of being with someone like him, and it’s something you are slowly but surely accepting. 

After freshening up, your feet take you to his home studio. You knock and push the door open gently. Lights low, the glow of his wide monitor casts a warmth over everything else.

Yoongi’s back is to you, head bowed slightly as his fingers glide gently over the keys. He’s playing something unfamiliar, but it aches with tenderness.

You step into the room slowly, not wanting to break the spell. And then, quietly, you come up behind him and place your hands over his shoulders.

He stills for a beat—surprised—but immediately pulls you to his his lap. “Didn’t hear you come in,” he murmurs, voice low.

“I didn’t want to interrupt.” You nuzzle closer. “You were amazing today.”

Yoongi huffs a soft laugh, turns his head slightly. “Nah. I was stiff.”

“Stop, the kids loved you. You were amazing, a natural,” you say, not allowing his usual self-deprecating behavior this time. The image of him on the daycare floor with his guitar, surrounded by adoring toddlers, the way his eyes sought you out for reassurance, your heart is still swollen from it.

You press a kiss to his temple. Then another to his cheek. 

“I love you,” you whisper. You don’t wait for a reply. You just kiss him. Slow, soft, deep. 

And when he pulls you down onto the studio couch with him, fingers trembling slightly as they undo the buttons of your blouse, it feels sacred. There’s no rush. Body to body, skin on skin, breath as one. His two hands on you like he’s never letting go. His mouth murmurs against your heat, spoiling every inch of you. And when you peak, you pour out the love that’s been accumulating even after years of missed chances, imperfect timings, wrong people—the love that was meant for him all along.

The next morning, you’re scrolling through socials when a reel pops up: POV: Free BTS concert in a daycare

The footage was taken from outside the glass doors. It catches Yoongi’s easy laughter, his tender nods and comforting presence. You’re also there, face clearly enamored. You are relieved that the kids' faces are not seen from this angle.

Thing is, the video has gone viral, and the comments section is filled with love and thirst alike:

@/tae7sykes: just when i thought i couldn’t possibly love him more. oh my hearttt @/angelshookie: am NOT crashing out or anything… #yoongimarryme @/flossydebut: AAAAGGHHH he is never beating the kind and gentle allegations @/yoonmeforever: this is so special 😭 @/undeniablekittens: fuck this man is so perfect and amazing 🥹 @/novemberjade: husband husband husband 🫠 @/miniboni: omg why is this so cute???

You tap it again, your heart full but racing—it’s true, it’s real, and everyone else just saw what you’ve known from the start. And at the bottom, amidst the flood of praise, one comment catches your eye and suddenly the ringing in your ears is louder than bombs.

@/lee-sungkyung: proud ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human xo

Wanna know what happens next? It's cookin'! Feedback is always appreciated and keeps motivation high. Leave me a note or a reblog if you are so inclined. I'd really love that! 💜

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[dailynnt]

"Come on, a few kisses won't ruin our friendship"

ఌ︎ Summary: After a terrible day, you run away from everything - to the only person who can bring you back to peace - Jungkook. In a cozy, semi-dark apartment filled with the scent of coffee candles and the warmth of whiskey, the boundaries between the two best friends are blurred. A friendly evening turns into something else: as you two talk about kisses, first touches, laughter, and memories, something that has long been hidden between words comes to light. One kiss and the night is no longer just a night.

ఌ︎ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

ఌ︎ Age restrictions: 18+

ఌ︎ Size: one shot (3.6k)

ఌ︎ Tags: fluff, smut, from friends to lovers, best friends, romance, kissing, alcohol, support, tension, reciprocity, tenderness, first kiss, intimacy, mutual liking, night together, sex, unprotected sex, sex while intoxicated

ఌ︎ From author: So guys, unexpectedly for you and unexpectedly for me, I wrote this short story overnight 🤭 My sister and mom will kill me if she finds out that I don't sleep at night and write fanfiction 🤣 But I wrote it spontaneously because I saw an inspiring phrase on pinterest and it’s story instantly popped into my head 🥰 So I hope I didn't waste the night on this story (it took me all night to write it, translate, format, post) and here it is ✨ 💞 Enjoy 🤩💜🫶🏻

ఌ︎ Dedication: Of course for the first to my love of my life @curse-of-art, as well as to my most favorite girls @kelsyx33, @kooko009, @bhonbhon, @kookiesncreamri, @diame93, @kooklovee, @medstudentlifestyle, @tranquilreign, @someoneelse0109 you make me happy every time I go to the tumblr 💜🫶🏻

ఌ︎ Warning: English is not my native language, so the text may contain references or strangely worded sentences. Minors do not interact!

The city outside the window trembled with lights, as if tired of the day's bustle. Jungkook's apartment was semi-dark, the only source of light being a few scented candles on the floor, he loved so much. Jungkook lit them for you so that you could appreciate the new “black coffee” scent.

You were sitting next to each other on the carpet, leaning your back on the couch, whiskey glasses in your hands and a half-empty bottle and a box of chocolates between you. You shook the whiskey and ice in the big glass and exhaled heavily.

This day has been a real challenge for you. Your favorite sneakers broke in the middle of a rainstorm, and you were criticized at work for a presentation you had been working on for three nights. And to top it all off, your phone broke. The screen died completely, and you were left without connection, without YouTube videos of gamer streams, and most importantly, without music.

All of this knocked you out of your rut. You didn't know where to go, and for some reason, the only person you wanted to see on that terrible day was Jungkook. You wrote to him from your work laptop, it was late, but you desperately needed companionship.

You briefly told him how much fate ‘loved’ you and he laughed sincerely (a emoji in text of course), filling your soul with warmth, and then offered to come to his place and drink whiskey to send fate to hell. He had known you for many years and knew that the only way to help you was to be there for you, to help you relax and to talk to you. You were grateful for his support.

Now you could already feel the alcohol relaxing every muscle, erasing tension. Your hair was falling over your shoulders, and a light, slightly drunken smile was wandering across your face. You watched as Jungkook tilted his head slightly to the side, laughing at your grumbling about the day. It's been a few hours since you've been at Jungkook's place, but you still can't stop complaining about your fate. His eyes sparkled, either from the light of the lamp or from a few glasses of whiskey.

"I've been talking about this so much and I haven't even asked about you. What did you do today?" you asked, leaning lightly against his shoulder.

"Me?" He tilted his head back, looked up at the ceiling, as if remembering. "I spent the morning at the gym, had boxing practice, then had some boring meeting with investors. And then I stayed at home all evening, watching some stupid movie... Until you came," he added, looking at you with a slight smile.

"Oh, did I really save your evening with my life drama?"

"You always do," he said softly. And you suddenly felt your stomach clench. You smiled in embarrassment and turned your gaze to the candle. In fact, Jungkook always saves you, too. Even today.

You talked some more, your phrases softer, a little blurry. Alcohol removed the filters from your thoughts and topics of conversation. At some point - it's not clear how or why - you started talking about sex. It wasn't the first time you had a frank conversation, but it felt different. Maybe because of the tone - less joking, more serious.

"Kissing is what's really important to me," you said suddenly, putting down your glass. "Have I ever told you that I just love kissing? Don't give me bread and samgyopsal, just let me kiss."

Jungkook laughed, but his eyes showed interest. He looked from your face to your lips and back again.

"Really? Knowing how much you love samgyopsal... Even like that?" he smiled broadly.

"Uh-huh. It's like... I don't know, like a dance. Different rhythms, feelings. Sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes hot and hungry. It's like a way to understand a person," you said, as if feeling the moment.

"Do you remember your first kiss?" he asked, still smiling. "What was it like?

"Ha..." you hummed, leaning back. "Funny. I was fifteen and he kissed like a wet fish. But at the time, I thought it was the most romantic moment of my life."

Jungkook snorted, and you laughed with him for company.

"Who was it?" he questioned you.

"It was a boy from the parallel class. He liked me. He gave me so many gifts and fed me all the time. I think, what worked the most was this, that’s why I gave him my first kiss," you joked.

You picked up a chocolate candy and put it in your mouth, after taking another sip of the honey-colored alcohol. Jungkook laughed, shaking his head.

"You haven't changed since then," he said. "If someone guy bought you a wagyu, I bet a 20 thousand won, you'd sleep with him on the first date."

You raised your eyebrows and pushed him lightly in the shoulder.

"God, Jeon, who do you take me for?" you paused briefly. "Only if he was really good looking," you joked.

You laughed again and you felt yourself finally relaxing. Jungkook wanted to know more about why kissing was so important to you, so he continued to ask you questions.

"So what kind of kisses do you like?"

You thought, twirling the glass in your hands. You unconsciously bit your lip and it couldn't escape his gaze.

"With depth... But not always. Sometimes just a light touch is enough. I like it when it starts with tenderness, like an exploration. I love kisses that start when you don't even realize when they became so passionate. When you forget where to put your hands because you want to feel everything," you said as if you were living these words.

Jungkook was silent, looking at you intently. When you felt the silence, you turned your face to him and were slightly taken aback. His tongue ran along his lower lip, and then he nodded slightly.

"You described it all so interestingly. And now I'm not even sure if I want another whiskey or if I just want to know exactly how you kiss."

You giggled, awkwardly, almost hysterically, but the smile dissolved in his eyes. Jungkook began to lean toward you, and you were mesmerized, seeing only his lips. He was very close, and you screamed, instinctively stopping him.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice shaking with excitement. Jungkook didn't move away, just forced his gaze away from your lips.

"I was going to kiss you," he said, as if it was a normal thing between you. You turned away awkwardly, pulling away a little.

"Are you go out your mind? We're friends! Friends aren't supposed to kiss, even if we're drunk..." you said, feeling hot and your heart racing.

It would seem that after your remarks, Jungkook should have backed off, told a joke, and that this incident would have been just a misunderstanding.

But you felt him gently grasp your wrist, and in an instant he pulled you to him, settling you on his lap. You screamed, not expecting such actions from your best friend.

Your faces were separated by a few centimeters, and your hot breaths with the taste of whiskey, mingled You felt that Jungkook's grip was strong. His large palm squeezed your waist, giving you no chance to escape.

"Come on, Y/N. A few kisses won't ruin our friendship," he assured you. You looked into his eyes and saw a mischievous spark. "Just a test, especially since you like to kiss."

You were silent. Your brain was screaming that this was a bad idea, that tomorrow when you were sober would be awkward, that you would ruined everything. But your body didn't listen. You were sitting on his lap, hearing your heart pounding furiously, and even more furiously, his. His palm, warm and steady, held you close. Your eyes met.

"Kook... it's going to be awkward between us when we're sober," you whispered, not quite sure if you wanted to stop him or push him closer.

His eyes changed - there was no more mischief in them. Only intense expectation and desire. You felt his hand slide down your back, stopping at your neck. His thumbs gently touched your skin.

"It won't," he whispered and kissed you. His lips touched yours lightly, almost inaudibly. Like that "light touch" you were talking about. And only a moment later, the kiss became deeper, bolder, as if he had heard every word you said in that conversation and wanted to give you exactly that.

His kiss was really a dance. His tongue intertwined with yours, warming the wave of desire between your legs. Jungkook broke the kiss for a moment, but only to lick your lower lip. You felt his wet tongue on your plump pad, and then he bit you.

Your fingers closed on his T-shirt, as if looking for support. And your mind was empty - only the touch, only him.

The throbbing between your legs increased exponentially, and Jungkook didn't want to stop. His tongue penetrated your mouth again, making you even more intoxicated. He kissed you so hard that you felt slightly dizzy.

You could feel his cock getting hard. He was pressing lightly into your buttocks. He felt the same desire as you.

But as much as you wanted this moment to last forever, you had to take a breath of air. Jungkook broke the kiss and you slowly opened your eyes. He was still close, but on his lips, the same ones that had just kissed you, was more than a satisfied smile.

"How interesting," he said in a low, husky voice. "Turns out my friend is a pretty damn good kisser."

You sighed, but it sounded more like a moan-a held, raspy breath after a storm. His words made you smile, but somewhere deep in your chest, you clenched, as if this moment was on the verge of being real and dangerous.

"Can we consider the test passed?" you asked, trying to hide the tremor in your voice, although your hand was still holding his shirt as if you were afraid it would disappear.

Jungkook looked down at your lips and then back up into your eyes. His face was serious, and the touch of his hand on your waist was insistent. He lowered it to your buttocks for a moment, and then his hand, deliberately, slowly went under your blouse. He touched his fingers to your stomach, making your skin tingle, and then his fingers found your breasts. He squeezed one of them and you moaned reflexively. You immediately felt him harden more beneath you.

"How about we move on to the practical part of the test?" he asked slyly. His fingers played with your nipple, squeezing it between them. You almost choked when he lifted your blouse and took your bud into his mouth.

His wet tongue sucked in the tender skin. Your nipple became hard, pressing against the softness of his tongue. You whispered his name, almost silently, more like a pleading sigh than a conscious sound.

"Jungkook..."

His eyes rose to meet yours. Hot, dark, thirsty. And you knew there was no turning back. Everything that had been between you before disappeared in the pulsating tension of this moment.

Jungkook let go of your nipple, ran his tongue lightly around it, making you shudder, and kissed you lower, slowly, carefully, as if studying every millimeter of your skin.

His hand moved to your hip, slipping under your skirt. His fingers touched the inside of your thigh, warmly, decisively. Jungkook was in no hurry, but he didn't give you time to recover.

"You're so beautiful..." he whispered, swallowing your reactions, every moan, every shudder.

"No..." you exhaled, wanting to tell him not to give you these fucking compliments. He shouldn't.

"Yes," he argued. "Fucking hot," he whispered against your lips.

His fingers finally touched your underwear, which was soaking wet.

"Fuck... You're all ready for me, aren't you?" His whisper was deafeningly intimate. "Is that from just one kiss?"

You couldn't answer. Your fingers dug deeper into his shoulders, and your head tilted back. Jungkook pushed the underwear to the side and slowly slid his finger between your folds, making you shudder and clench your thighs.

"Relax... I want you to feel good," he said softly as he pushed his finger inside you. Your back arched in pleasure as he began to move rhythmically, feeling you grip him from the inside. You were tight, and it felt good on Jungkook's fingers. He felt a new wave of excitement as he imagined your tight walls enveloping his cock.

You sobbed, trying to hold back a moan, but it was useless. His thumb pressed down on your clit, and a wave of sweet madness swept over you.

"Tell me if you like it, Y/N..." his voice was husky, heavy with desire. He leaned down and nuzzled his lips into your neck, continuing to caress you from the inside.

"Yes, Kook... more... please..." you choked on your pleasure, your voice breaking. Your hips began to thrust to meet his fingers.

His smile was hot, almost animalistic. He took you to the very edge and suddenly stopped, withdrawing his finger.

"Not now," he said, leaning down to your ear. "I want to be inside you when you come. I want to feel you squeezing me from the inside..."

You could barely breathe. His words burned you from the inside out, and your body trembled with desire. You couldn't even deny how much you wanted your friend right now.

"Get up," he ordered in a soft tone. "Would it be more comfortable on the couch, or do you want to do it on the floor?"

You tried to steady your breathing. Your cheeks were pink and your lips were swollen from his passionate kisses.

"On the floor?" you stammered.

Jungkook smiled, but there was no trace of joking in his eyes. Only a fierce desire that burned the air between you.

"Do you want on the floor, on the couch, on the kitchen table... I don't care where, Y/N..." his voice was low, and he slid his fingers along your jaw, forcing you to look him straight in the eye, "I just want to be inside you. Right now."

Your body shuddered at these words, the feeling of butterflies mixed with arousal left no room for doubt if this was the right thing to do. It seemed that the air had become thicker.

You stood up from his lap, but he didn't let you go far away, just took your hand and gently laid you down on the soft carpet in front of the couch. The surface beneath you was warm, but his gaze was even hotter as he stood over you, pulling off his T-shirt. His torso, toned, with well-defined muscles, made you forget how to breathe. And his tattoos made him look even hotter and sexier in this semi-dark room.

He knelt down, leaning over you, and his palms slipped under your skirt. In one steady motion, he pulled off your underwear, keeping his eyes on you. And then - slowly, as if in a slow motion movie - he unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down his pants, took off his boxers, freeing his hard, erected cock.

You only had time to look at him, and this look sent a wave of even greater desire through you, your wetness between your legs became abundant.

Jungkook lay down over you, leaning on his elbows. His nose touched yours, and he kissed you more gently than a minute ago, as if he was thanking you for your trust. Then he ran his fingers between your thighs again, making sure you were still as wet - and you were even wetter. His breathing became heavier.

"Ready?" he asked, not taking his eyes off you. His tip was already touching you, tempting you in your most sensitive spot.

You just nodded, your eyes sparkling, your breasts rising in a ragged rhythm.

Jungkook pressed on and plunged into you. When the head of his cock began to stretch your hole, you felt a pleasant pressure at first, but after a moment he had to stop because you felt pain. You made a sound that sounded more like an exhausted moan. You raised your eyebrows.

Jungkook came closer and touched your lips, distracting your attention. He plunged his tongue into your mouth and you accepted it without question. He pressed and you moaned in pain into his mouth.

Your best friend continued kissing you, slowly entering you. He stretched you every inch of the way, and you felt your body accepting him... until the last drop.

He parted your lips, and another moan escaped your lips without permission.

Jungkook froze, letting you get used to it. His forehead pressed against yours. His breath mingled with yours. And only then did he start moving-slowly, steadily.

You no longer understood what was real and what was not. Only his body in yours. His hands on your skin. His name escaping your lips in every moan.

For a moment, he was almost exited, and then he plunged into you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"So tight, I love it so much," he whispered into your ear, pressing your body tighter against his, fucking you rhythmically. Your legs intertwined on his ass. "Fuck Y/N you take me so well, so fucking good inside you," he swore without restraining his emotions which were like fireworks.

He suddenly began to move sharply and deeply. The sensations of these movements made you lose all control.

"Kook... damn..." you had never felt so good during sex before. You literally thought it was the best sex you'd ever had.

"Yes... feel my cock, it's so perfect for you, love" he said in a breathy voice.

And when he started moving faster, you couldn't hold back any longer. You squeezed his shoulders, stretched your lips to his neck, dug your feet into his hips, letting him in deeper.

"Y/N..." he whispered, "that's so good... I can't... I can't last..."

"I...me neither..." your fingers dug into his back. "Kook, I'm going to..."

And at that very moment he squeezed you tighter, gave you one last deep thrust... and you exploded inside him. He felt your body shuddering around him, your tight velvet walls squeezing him to the point of insanity. Jungkook abruptly pulled out of you with a deep, heavy moan. You swear it's the sexiest thing you've ever heard. He spilled all over your stomach, you felt his body cum splattering on your skin.

He froze, holding you in his arms, and then lay on top of you, you felt gentle kisses on your neck as your bodies shuddered with the last waves of pleasure.

And then - silence.

Warm, sweet, slightly dizzying silence and only the sound of your heavy breathing.

You were lying under him, covered in a sheen of sweat, his sperm flowing warmly on your stomach, and your cheeks burning. Not just from physical pleasure, but from the realization that you had just slept with your best friend. And while your body was still feeling pleasure, your mind was already panicking.

Jungkook stopped kissing you and looked up at you. Your skin was flushed, your eyelashes were fluttering, and your cheeks were covered in a red blush. You couldn't look him in the eye, you were so embarrassed, even though you had just let him into the most intimate part of you.

"You're blushing..." he mocked, and his lips stretched into a smug smile that made you pull your neck into your shoulders even more.

"Don't look..." you muttered, covering your face with your hand.

Jungkook laughed softly as he removed your hand from your face. His voice was a little husky, deep, still filled with an echo of pleasure, but calm and warm at the same time.

"Why are you so sweet now, huh? Y/N, it's..." he took a breath, brushing the damp hair from your forehead, "sooner or later it was going to happen anyway, we both feel this sexual tension between us."

You swallowed quietly. His gaze was so penetrating... direct. You felt your heart pounding again, not with passion, but with excitement.

"I just..." you swallowed. "It's the first time I've ever done something so... spontaneous."

"And was it bad?" his smile grew wider, and he traced your cheek with his finger. "Because it was absolutely... fucking good for me."

"Kook!" you punched him in the chest, still not daring to look him in the eye.

"Hey, don't be afraid of it, okay?" his voice became more serious, but didn't lose its softness. "We did what we both wanted, aren’t we? And I'm not going to let you make this about shame or regret. Because I don't regret it for a moment."

Jungkook kissed you again, this time gently, long, on the lips, moving slowly, as if he wanted to put everything he hadn't had time to say in words into that kiss.

You returned the kiss, allowing yourself to dissolve in this tenderness for a moment. His lips were soft, warm, soothing. He pulled away from you.

"We need to take a shower, and you know what else?" He touched your hair and playfully tossed it back.

"What?"

Jungkook stood up and knelt down. You sat down, trying not to look at his crotch. You were covered in his cum and tried not to move too much so that it wouldn't get on the carpet.

"I am hungry. You used up all my energy, woman!" he joked. You smiled, feeling secretly pleased by his words.

You stood up, watching him look at your naked body, and his eyes darkened slightly.

"Order the fried chicken , and I'm going to take a shower. I'm hungry too."

[luvwestwood]

"Off Limits" - Gojo Satoru

4,120 words.

warnings. n*sfw (18+), tongue piercing satoru, substance use, satoru is a plug, fuckboy! satoru, oral sex (he eats your pussy OUT) , both characters 🚬 🍃, resolved sexual tension, porn with a BIT of plot, mildly dubious consent, fucking at a party, he makes you squirt

notes. this was originally posted on my ao3, which is much more longer. i've shortened it down and fixed errors I made on ao3 originally (see if you could notice what it is 😭)for tumblr so its more of an easy read! <3

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

You had about an hour and half to get ready, before you had to make your way to the Mappa Frat House down the street. Chloe's brother, Satoru, and his friends were inviting you two to some house party they held every year building up to Halloween.

To be real, it took you A LOT of convincing for Chloe to have you come to the party with her. You were never a party person. The thought of throwing up your guts after your system has consumed all types of shit. Or the annoying guys that slap your ass from behind in hopes of getting time with you in the bedrooms upstairs.

You were the total opposite of Chloe, and honestly, you envied her. She was a social butterfly who could blend in with anyone if she needed to, and she was evidently liked by the other students of any clique out there.

Oh, and by party animal, I mean it. Dresses in every colour, length and pattern. Heels of every inch and style. She just knew what to do. Practically, if you got her to go to your party, that's how you'd know if it was a good fucking party. 

Sitting in front of your desk finishing your makeup, which you were surprisingly good at, you giggle as you watch Chloe attached a lasso to her waist.

She had looked really cute in her Woody costume, and you were in fact, dressed as a sexy Buzz Lightyear. Earlier on at Ann Summers, Chloe was begging for you to match with her. You couldn’t refuse. It was a 2 for 1 sale anyway..

You smiled as she started to record a few tiktoks before hitting the road.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with this rope tonight."

"Mhm.." you let out a hum as you focus on doing your eyeliner. It was hard not to laugh at what she said, but you managed to suppress a giggle.

You lined some lashes with glue before placing them on your lash line. Your makeup was flawless tonight, and you were grateful because it had been quite some time since you've done a full glam. A bit of setting spray, and you spun your chair around to face Chloe.

It was as if she was a proud mother from what she was seeing in front of her. "Gorgeous! You look like a doll. A sexy one. Stand up really quickly, let's take a few pictures before heading out."

You stumbled a bit from the high heeled boots you were wearing, and you had to adjust the fabric your ass was practically eating as you stood up. You and Chloe took a few cute pictures before heading out to the Mappa House.

As you guys got there, it was already packed with all shit ton of people spread out on the front lawn doing all sorts of stuff.

The loud music from the inside could be heard from where you were standing. People were smoking, making out, doing keg stands.

Honestly, Chloe was right. You looked at a group of girls huddled and chatting near the door, and one caught your eye. The girl was wearing nothing but black tape on her boobs and underwear.

You nudge Chloe. “Chlo, what is she meant to be..?”

She giggled a bit before replying, “Who knows.”

You got a bit nervous as you walked on the path leading up to the main door. Spooky Halloween decorations were all over the House, and sometimes you were unable to tell what and what's not a decoration..

A man was standing just inside the door, it seemed like he was waiting for Chloe.

The guy dressed up as Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat. You'd never seen him before, and he looked a bit intimidating.

You heard Chloe call out to the man. "Kento!" ..So that's his name. You stood behind Chloe like a loser as she gave him a hug. She pulled away and stayed pressed up against him. 

He smiled, "I'm glad you came. And who's this pretty girl?"

Kento turned to you as you looked at Chloe, she held you close to her too and gave you a proper introduction. "This is my best friend and room-mate, I convinced her to come along tonight!"

You returned the smile to him, he seemed like an okay guy. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Chloe winked at you, and you smirked, knowing what it meant. You gave her the look of approval as she took her lasso and tied it around Kento, pulling him to a room somewhere in the house.

You laughed as you made your way to the kitchen, after they disappeared up the stairs. How outrageous.

It was more quiet, which you liked. Making your way to the far end of the kitchen, you opened the fridge and scanned what's inside. You decided to take a small can of Pepsi. You sighed as you turned around, closing the fridge shut with your butt.

The presence of someone behind all along startled you, leaning against the island watching you this whole time. 

"Oh my fuck. Why are you creeping up on people like that?"

It was a person, assumingly a guy, his face covered with a ghostface mask. He was dressed in all black. A simple black fitted tee and jeans. He had a fake knife strapped to his belt.

The mysterious guy took off his mask, and placed it on the counter behind him. Of course, It was Satoru, Chloe's brother.

You let out a labored sigh as you leaned against the fridge, unable to move.

"I'm surprised you showed up tonight, I thought you never will."

You slowly slid to the right trying to escape him, turning your back to face Satoru as you popped the can open on the counter. "...It was a last minute decision."

"Seems like you got a costume too, huh?" Eyes sliding down your body as he finished his sentence.

Your eyes widen, realising your ass was on show to him this whole time. I'll kill this man if he thinks I'm up to no good.

You quickly turn back around to face him with the front of your body, and it didn't do you any justice as he was just met with your almost exposed chest. Party in the front, party in the back.

"I'm not complaining, you look good." he reassured you, trailing his eyes down your body from head to toe.

"..Thanks." Quickly, you took a huge sip from the can as you looked at him. This drink will only un-calm my nerves.

"I'm actually not into parties myself either." he spoke, and you almost choked on your drink.

"You? THE Satoru Gojo? I wasn't expecting that."

"No, I just like more intimate parties. Big ones like these annoy me. I don't know and don't care about 3/4 of the people who are here."

He continued, “You wanna come with? I’m going upstairs. There’s one last free room. And that’s the master room.”

Chloe was already busy, and there wasn’t really anyone else you could talk to around here. You had no choice.

”Hmm, okay. I’ll follow.”

He made sure to grab his mask from the counter, and the two of you left the kitchen.

As you made your way up the stairs, you could feel other girls eyes piercing through your back like daggers. Luckily, they couldn’t recognise you that easily.

By the time you set foot on the upstairs landing, you called out to him. "Satoru," you continued, "Who's room is this even?"

"Suguru’s, but it's cool. He won't give a fuck."

You followed behind him for a bit until you reached the master bedroom.

”Lock the door if you don’t want people coming into this room eating each other’s faces off.”

You blankly stared at him for a bit before turning back around to twist the lock. The music from downstairs turned faint and so did the chatter.

For a frat house, Suguru’s room was actually clean, you expected dirty plates and what-ever-the-fuck to litter the rest of the room, but the only exception was the clothes scattered on the ground. You watched and sat yourself down on the bed as he rummaged through the drawers for something.  Is he… reaching for a.. 

He picked up a lighter from deep inside the drawer, taking a joint out that was untouched from the same drawer, but kept away in a tiny zip bag. Phew.

”You smoke?”

You looked at him. “What do you think?”

”I’m guessing no.” You didn't know if you were to be butthurt by his quick and certain answer, but you don't see a reason why you should be anyways. His words went a bit quiet as he concentrated on sparking the joint between his fingers.

He took a hit from the joint as soon as it was burning perfectly. “Damn, that shits good.”

”Is Suguru not gonna be pissed if he finds out you took that..?” You questioned him.

”..Who do you think sold this stuff to him?” He flashed his famous smile as he saw the priceless look on your face.

You chewed on your lip and looked at the ground. “Oh, right.. yeah.”

You forgot that Satoru was basically the one who sold 🍃 on and off the campus.

He walked over to you, and sat beside you on the edge of the bed. “You don’t wanna try?”

Satoru took another hit before blowing the smoke out on his right side, making sure it doesn’t hit your face.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, plus I’m scared.” You continued, “More scared I’ll start coughing like a bitch that I’d make a fool out of myself.”

Even though the only source of light came from the bedside lamp, you could still see that his eyes were glossy, and at this point a tiny bit bloodshot. “I could teach you, here.”

He held out the joint towards you, the smell was so strong it was probably sticking to your clothes by now.

”Quick, it’s burning away for no reason.”

You held the joint between your fingers like a cigarette, and looked at him for assurance.

”No, not like that.” He took your fingers and placed it properly between your pointer and thumb. “You look like a loser if you hold it like a cigarette.”

”Okay, what now.”

”Do it, take a hit.”

You stared at it before bringing it to your lips. Satoru spoke from beside you.

”Like, almost as if you’re sucking. Make sure it really gets to here.” He points to his chest.

You slightly squint your eyes as you take a mistakingly big hit.

”Now hold it for a bit, then exhale. It’s gonna hit better.”

The joint left your lips as you held it for like two seconds, and you let out a laboured exhale.

“Good girl, see? No coughing.”

You passed it back to him and Satoru takes another hit.

”..How’d I know if it hit me?”

He smirked, “You’ll just know. Don’t worry, I got you.”

All of a sudden, it felt like everything slowed down and your face was being grabbed to the ground.

You felt a bit relaxed knowing that Satoru was beside you, and you managed to take a hit without embarrassing yourself and going all snotty.

Unwillingly, you take the joint back from his hand to take another hit.

”What happened to Ms. I don’t smoke?”

You rolled your eyes before you passed it back to him again. 

Satoru smiled at your reaction before speaking again. “You wanna play a game?” 

Stomach churning, and not really liking where this is going, you answered. “..like what?”

”I ask you a couple questions and you answer, then you do the same to me.”

You snickered. “Isn’t that just called ‘getting to know each other’?”

”Yeah, I just wanted to make it sound more interesting.”

“Okay, why not.”

“How about, if you refuse to answer a question you take off one piece of clothing.”

You looked at him with a , ‘nice try’ face. ”Nuh uh. Not happening. Just ask the questions.”

”Aww, it was worth a shot.”

“Start asking questions or I’ll change my mind,” you changed your position on the bed to lie down on your stomach. It was more comfortable than stiffly sitting on the edge of the bed.

”You ever had a boyfriend?”

”Once. But I was like sixteen.”

Satoru just nods. “Your turn.”

“Did getting your tongue piercing hurt?”

He turned to you and smirked, “I’m surprised you noticed it. But nahh. Not really, it was just the healing process that hurted.”

Your face slightly grew warm, “…Yeah, I noticed it yesterday.”

He just smiles, and asks his second question. “You ever gotten your pussy ate before?”

You swallowed your spit as you propped yourself up slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

”You heard me.” He takes another hit of the joint even though it’s almost shrunken to the smallest it can be.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “…No.”

”…Good.” Satoru muttered, but you couldn’t really hear.

It was your turn to ask question again.

”..Why’d you want to get it pierced anyways?”

”Dunno. Why’d you think?”

Silence and tension grew between the two of you. You didn’t know if the naughty answer that crossed your mind was right or wrong. 

You didn’t know if it was the temperature of the room or the shit you smoked. You avoided answering his question.

”…Y-your turn to ask the question.”

His next question came out immediately.

“..Wanna see for yourself?”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You didn’t know what to say. And you didn’t know what he meant.

”Is that a question you’re using up or are you just saying that… as a joke..”

Satoru stood up and walked over to the dresser, placing his costume props on top. In fact, he took everything out of his pockets and placed it on the dresser. 

You watched him glance at his phone for a bit, reading all the messages from his other homies before placing it down on the dresser and not replying.

A pool was forming between your legs, and you gently clamped them together while still lying down.

You’d be lying if you said you totally didn’t want to strip everything off and be naked by the time he turns back around. But you kept your composure.

Satoru turned back around, walking back to the bed. He sat on the same edge he was on a few minutes ago.

”And what if I do wanna find out,” You spoke, testing the waters.

His voice was laced with honesty. “I don’t want to push you out of your boundaries, we don’t have to do this. We can forget that this happened and my sister won’t ever know I was near you.”

A few thoughts were racing through your mind. I mean, Chloe was busy, you literally had weed in your system and you never thought you would’ve. There’s a first for everything, right?

You gently crawled over across the bed,  closer to him. “…No, I do want you to show me.” Your voice trailed off quietly, you grew shy as you drew back.

He turned his head behind to face you, and was able to see the sincerity in your eyes. Not gonna lie, he was very attractive. And I was literally begging to have his head between my legs.

You came closer to him again, and found yourself placing your lips on his first. The two of you melted into each other, with the lingering sexual tension finally resolved. 

The good girl act no longer existed, and time around you felt like it had stopped. This was something you needed, and you finally got it.

He was extremely gentle with his hands, and softly guided you to move back further onto the bed, placing your head down on the pillow.

You slightly squirmed as he placed his knee between your legs. He pulled away from your neck  before looking at you from above, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

“Just relax doll, I’ll take care of everything.” He left you with a peck on the lips as he slowly peppered a trail of kisses down your body, going lower and lower.

Your breath hitched as he cupped both of his hands around each of your thighs, kissing your inner thigh as he looked up at you in between.

His hands were cold, and caused your nipples to harden from his touch. But the heat of your body cause him to warm up in no time. He paused for a moment. “Can I?”  Satoru points to your tiny shorts before you responded with a nod. You slid them off and threw them somewhere in the room. You’ll find those later.

You watched as he used his teeth to teasingly slide your thong off your body, down your legs. You grew goosebumps from the feeling of the fabric slowly gliding down your skin.

It was painfully slow, but it made you want him even more. He knew what he was doing, and for your first time getting eaten out, it was like winning the lottery if Satoru was the one doing it.

He took them from his mouth, and placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before kissing past your inner thigh, Satoru placed a wet kiss on your throbbing clit before doing a few small licks with his tongue.

The mixture between the metal of his piercing and tongue made you shudder, causing you to whine and clamp your thighs around his head gently.

You felt Satoru's soft hands grip slightly your skin firmer, spreading your legs more apart and keeping them wide open for him. You were expecting his hands to be cold, but surprisingly your skin was met with his warm touch. He sucked on your clit gently, before lapping at it again hungrily.

Your two hands were occupied themselves, one grabbed onto his hair and the other clutched onto the sheets beside you. He only pushed his tongue deeper into you, basically gently fucking your hole with it.

Practically losing your mind from how good Satoru made you feel, you could tell he was enjoying every single noise and reaction you made. You felt the way he smiled against your dripping cunt as he cycled from sucking to licking.

”…Don’t.. stop..” you continued, in short breaths. “…Please”

He hummed gently with his eyes closed, his lips glossed with his spit and the juices from your pussy, and the sound of someone’s phone ringing echoed in your ears, releasing you from your trance.

You looked down at him annoyed as he hauled his head up from your legs. “Not my phone, mines silent on the dresser.”

You turned to the far end of the bed to your left and saw your phone screen was flashing. Reaching for it, you saw Chloe was the one calling.

Turning the phone screen for Satoru to see, he squinted his eyes a bit to read who the caller was. “You can answer,”

Before answering the call you laughed a bit, as you saw how ridiculous you made him look after grabbing his hair.

”Chloe?” You watched Satoru as he tried to listen in on the conversation.

He whispered, “Put it on speaker.”

You nodded, and Chloe could be heard on the other line speaking.

”Hey girl, just checking on you. You okay?” You heard her and Kento giggle as she tried to speak over the phone. But it was a bit louder around her, so that means they were with a bunch of other people now.

”Yeah, I’m…” Your eyes widen and flutter as felt as Satoru placed his head back down between your thighs, slowly and slightly lapping at your clit again with the cold metal orb on his tongue causing you to throb again.

You felt as he carelessly swirled his tongue around like there’s no tomorrow, but this time he let one of your legs go and thrusted a finger in and out of your hole, emitting a squelching noise as he continuously sucked, stimulating you like crazy.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

”Heyyy, you there?”

You were unable to answer as your own words became nothing but breathy as you try to form a sentence.

”…Y-Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m in the…b-bathroom.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your inner thigh for a second time as he heard your little lie over the phone.

You furrow your brows, making an “O” shape with your mouth.

Your hand holding the phone fell flat onto the bed, and by now you were no longer listening to whatever Chloe was saying on the other side of the line. Your mind was clouded, and the knot in your stomach tightened as you felt an orgasm approaching.

Lucky for you, Chloe ended the call less than ten seconds ago as it seems like she was busy with something else. Hopefully Kento.

He felt the way you quivered even more than last time, and held one of your legs over his left shoulder as he thrusted another finger in, still lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt as your breathing quickened, becoming irregular.

”Cum all over my face,” He murmured against your warm lips, and that did it for you. You liked the way he was gentle with his hands, slowly using one to rub your thigh on his left shoulder. He was deep in there, and he ate your pussy like it was a five course meal.

You watched as him as you rode out your orgasm, your head falling back against the pillow. Your mind was all over the place as you endlessly squirted all over his fingers that curled inside of you to aid your high, and felt as you slightly pushed your body more towards him.

“S-shit..” Was all you could say. You saw the way the piercing was exposed for a split second as he stuck his tongue out, the juices from your release dripping all over his mouth.

As he gently pulled away from between your legs, a ‘pop’ noise was heard after he gave your clit one last suck. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face was soaking wet.  Luckily it didn’t go past his above nose. Or he’d be partially blind for the rest of the night.

The neck of his shirt managed to be slightly soaked with splatters from your juices. But he didn’t care.

“..You got a little something on your face..” You say, pointing to your mouth with your finger to tell him where it was.

He smiled, and you watched as he used his tongue to wipe the corners of his mouth, but took a random towel hanging off the door to wipe the rest off his cheek.

“Damn, Suguru’s gonna be pissed when he sees how soaked his sheets are.” Satoru laughed as he looked at you still with your legs spread out, trying to recover.

No can do, the towel that was previously used by Satoru was passed to you after.

The wet circle underneath you had expanded from soaking into the sheets for too long. Satoru grabs your shorts that landed just in front of the door and tossed them back to you, but as he walked away a knock could be heard.

It was Suguru, of course it was. “Yo, whoever’s in there is cheeky enough to lock my own damn door!”

You quickly slid on your shorts as you turned to the body mirror beside you, combing your hair with your fingers.

Honestly, you were a bit upset that your fun was cut short. But you couldn’t stay for too long or eventually someone would break the door down.

“Man shut the hell up, it’s me, Satoru. I’m in here.” He responded. You watched him in the mirror as he slowly came up behind you, turning you around and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. Making sure you knew he didn’t just want to leave you hanging like that. That you weren’t just a toy to him.

The two of you walked to the door, twisting the lock to it. “Here, you go out first. I’m right behind you.”

You nod as you left the room, and shyly smiled at Suguru on your way out who was dumbfounded, followed by Satoru behind you.

And of course, Suguru couldn’t help but notice your pink thong that was still hanging off Satoru’s back pocket.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

[eshaverse]

This is for my Law of Assumption, manifestation girlies–

i know everyone sees this everywhere because its the basis of the entire law, but,

your 4d is your reality. your 3d is just a reflection of it.

think of it this way, for eg there's a mirror and youre standing in front of the mirror. now, there's two versions of yourselves that you can see. one, which is literally you in hard physical form; and the second in the mirror, which is just a reflection. its not even real.

now, your mirror self does not control you physical body. its the other way round. you control your reflection.

your 3d is just the mirror reflection, guys. your 4d is the real shit. thats the real deal, where change takes place. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

if youre standing in front of the mirror and your reflection lifts its arm, thats not going to make you lift your arm. if you lift your arm, thats when the change occurs in the reflection. you are in control of that.

like, it HAS to change. the reflection in the mirror HAS to change because its LAW. its literal PHYSICS. its SCIENCE you guys, the reflection has to change.

just like that, your 3d also HAS to change if your 4d changes. it has to because that is also LAW. its called the LAW of assumption. why are you looking for logic in it??? so many people are gaining hundreds of dollars OVERNIGHT and you're still doubting something that always existed????? its SCIENCE, you guys its literally psychology, physics, and goddamn neuroscience. IT IS PROVEN THAT THOUGHTS SHAPE YOUR REALITY. there was a legit study conducted on this. why are you still doubting yourself????

this has been the best analogy for me so far because i too had immense difficulty actually believing that it would come true, until i realised, it already has. its already true in my 4d. i have already got that desire in my 4d. how does it even matter what the 3d shows??? my 4d matters. thats what shapes my reality. and you know what the 4d is BLIND. your subconscious is literally BLIND guys. you are already given the best possible circumstances to get whatever you want, why are you still doubting and crying????

whenever i start to waver from my affirmations, i just always think back to the mirror analogy, and that it has actually already happened in the original reality which is the 4d. the 3d does not matter. irrelevant. (im not saying to shut the 3d out its actually quite lovely but dont let that stop u from assuming u have your desires).

you can literally scroll for hours and hours on end, searching and reading through numerous posts on tumblr, videos on YouTube, you can go searching for "signs" from the universe everywhere (do that if it makes you feel good tho) and rant and complain about how its "not happening" and you're just "not good at manifesting". but you know what? no one, literally NO ONE on this entire planet, even the most master manifestors can convince you to change your mindset, or believe in your affirmations, if you dont. you need to take the first step for yourself. you cant have your cake and eat it. even manifesting takes DISCIPLINE and hardwork. not in the hustle culture way normalised by society, but you NEED to train your mind and your thoughts and maintain a mental diet in order to get to the easy part. you have to prep your brain for the easy part to come in.

i promise you your blessings are literally almost here. they are already here. the only reason you have not gotten them is because you are standing between you and your blessings and manifestations. the universe sends the desires the minute you say it, but they cant get to your reality, if you are restricting them from entering your reality.

so literally just decide. affirm. and keep. persisting. that's legit all there is. you can always always try more techniques and methods of course if you want to and you feel good about it. but do not get stressed about it. its supposed to be fun, not draining. BELIEVE for once. if it had to work out by you not believing yourself and not trusting the universe, it would have. but it hasnt. and for that to change you must trust. however unrealistic that may be.

my inbox is open if anyone has any questions always ofc <3

[shizucheese]

So about that Dropout Tweet...

There's a common trend in influencer/ content creator apologies, where the person doing the apology will say they are sorry for the harm that they did, claim they are taking ownership of it and using the whole situation to become a better person, etc. etc. Usually in a way that makes it sound suspiciously like it was written by ChatGPT.

And then they'll go on to say something along the lines of "But we've been getting a lot of death threats guys, and that's bad!" As if the fact that they're getting death threats somehow absolves them of at least some of the guilt of whatever it is that made the apology necessary in the first place. As if it means they're the real victims here.

Apparently Dropout decided to just skip the "ChatGPT apology" part and jump straight to the "We're getting physcal and legal threats" part. Followed up with them once again saying they support Palestiniens and ending it with "We reject antisemitism, Islamophobia, and all forms of bigotry, and welcome all to our platform who treat others with respect, empathy, and human dignity."

And they did it on Twitter, and only Twitter. You know, the website that's notoriously overrun by Nazis. Nothing on Tumblr or Instagram, where the original statement that sparked all of this (which has since been taken down) were posted.

@dropoutdottv, @samreich, this is not listening to the Jewish members of your community who are speaking out about antisemitism. This is reinforcing the antisemitism that those Jewish members of the community are speaking out about. Because what this Tweet does is paint everyone who spoke out against the antisemitism in your original post with the same brush as the people who were sending you threats.

Which, let me be clear, they should not have been doing and I wholeheartedly condemn.

But the actions of the people sending you threats of violence and threats of legal action do not invalidate the things being said by the people who haven't threatened you with anything worse than a boycott. I have literally seen people say "the fact that they got threats just proves they were right." Is that the outcome you were trying to achieve with this?

People who did bad things get death threats all the time; refer back to the beginning of this post. Does that make their critics wrong then, too? Or is it only now, when the accusation being made is that a nerdy comedy network beloved by people on the left did an antisemitism?

I honestly can't tell if you have no publicist helping you out with one, a bad publicist that needs to give you your money back, or an evil genius publicist that knew that if you made a post like this one, it would distract from the fact that you're being accused of antisemitism, maybe even act as a dog whistle to to paint anyone who accuses you of being antisemitic of being "Zionists" (meant in the derogatory way, where people claim they're only talking about people who uncritically support the Israeli government and their actions in Gaza, but then in practice will use it against anyone who believes Israel has the right to exist, including those who want a two state solution, whose hearts break for the people in Palestine, and call Netanyahu a fascist and probably want him gone more than even the people calling them "zionists" do). Maybe even make up for all of the subscriptions you're losing over this and even gain a few by catering to the antisemitic leftist crowd.

Is that really the kind of culture you want to cultivate? If not, then do better. Acknowledge the Jewish voices that are speaking out. Listen to them. And do it in a way that doesn't bring up any other marginalized group. Because like...fuck, man, I reject Islamophobia, and all forms of bigotry too. And I'm sorry you guys are receiving threats; that truly does suck and I hope everyone that works for you guys are staying safe.

But you're specifically being accused of antisemitism. Can you really not reject it all on its own without including other forms of bigotry in the same statement?

And do it on a platform that *isn't* run by an infamous antisemitic, and overrun by more antisemitics? (You can turn off comments and reblogs on Tumblr and comments on instagram, in the same way you disabled replies on your Tweet, you know.)

Here, I'll even write the statement for you: "Earlier this week, we made a statement regarding accusations that Dropout was platforming zionists. At the time, we made a statement focusing on our support of the Palestinian people. We stand by this statement. However, we have received feedback from several members of our community that some of the things that we said were inappropriate insensitive to the Jewish people. "Zionist" and "Zionism" mean different things to different people, ranging from "people who support the Israeli government's actions in Gaza" to "people who believe that Israel has a right to exist and the Jewish people have the right to self-determination." We had meant it in the context of the former definition, but we understand that many Jewish people identify with the later, including many people who are disgusted by the Israeli government's actions in Gaza, and we should have been more sensitive to this fact. Additionally, we would like to reiterate that, to our knowledge, nobody who has appeared on Dropout has openly stated support for the Israelie's actions in Gaza, and several of those accused have voiced their support for a free Palestine. We would like to take this moment to remind everyone that just because a person is Jewish, and may have ties to Israel, does not inherently mean they condone the actions of the Israeli government in Gaza, and to suggest otherwise is antisemitic. We at Dropout reject all forms of antisemitism and are committed to providing a safe space to everyone regardless of religion or ethnic background. We apologize if we made the Jewish members of our community feel like that was not the case."

See how easy that was? I feel something like this is the bear minimum, and if you had said the things in the last three paragraphs from the start, you could have avoided having to say everything in the first two paragraphs and the apology at the end.

That's...pretty much everything I have to say on the matter. To anyone reading this: Do not use other Jewish people to silence Jewish voices.

Do not use people of other marginalized groups to silence Jewish voices.

Just...maybe just listen to what we have to say without twisting our words and putting words in our mouths? Maybe?

Thanks for reading.

I'm so tired.

[starset21]

The Paris Pact

Pairing: Isack Hadjar x reader

Summery:  In France during NASCAR’s off-season she runs into Isack at a karting facility. They bond over aggressive turns and late-night croissants, and decide to see what long-distance dating looks like between stock cars and single-seaters.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may found is on tumblr or A03 under the same name. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships. May contain google translated languages.

Paris wasn’t supposed to feel lonely.

You’d been told it was a romantic city—lit up in soft gold and full of art, laughter, buttery pastries, and warm drinks. But the truth was, Paris in January was more grey than golden. The cold settled deep in your bones, and the rain never quite fell—it just hovered in the air, misting your skin like nature itself couldn’t commit.

You liked it.

It felt honest. Like the world taking a breath before the season kicked off again. Like how you felt: paused. Waiting. Rebuilding.

It was just you, your duffel bag, and a karting track a few blocks from your Airbnb that had surprisingly good online reviews. It sat in a tucked-away industrial zone, more functional than glamorous. You liked that too. No press, no fans asking you how it felt to “almost” win the Cup last year.

You tugged your jacket tighter around you and pushed open the glass doors to the building. Warm air hits your face immediately, along with the faint buzz of electric engines.

Perfect.

You walked toward the counter to sign in, only vaguely registering the other driver already gearing up across the room.

Until he looked up.

Brown eyes. Sharp jaw. Hair poking out from under a balaclava. The Red Bull logo on his sleeve.

Oh.

Isack Hadjar.

You tried not to look too surprised. He definitely saw you. His expression shifted slightly—not shock, but recognition. 

Of course he knew who you were. You were one of the youngest NASCAR drivers to win back-to-back oval races last season. Your face has been splashed on motorsport blogs more than once.

You gave him a nod. Cool. Casual.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t expect to see stock cars in Paris,” he called over in accented English, voice half-muffled by his helmet strap.

You shrugged, pulling your own balaclava over your head. “Didn’t expect to see F1 guys slumming it with us commoners.”

That earned a short laugh. “Touché.”

You both approached the karts, clearly signed up for the same heat. The attendant looked like he might faint from excitement, watching two professional drivers size each other up like this was Monaco.

You climbed in, fingers itching for speed.

Isack glanced over at you. “Loser buys coffee?”

You smirked. “Are you sure you want to go home broke?”

He grinned.

You strapped yourself in, tugged on your gloves, and rolled your neck out like you were about to grid up at Martinsville. It was muscle memory now. Comforting.

The karts weren’t anything special—just rental electrics—but your body still tuned in, alert and hungry. A proper racer's brain didn’t care about the horsepower. It only cared about the gap. The edge. The feeling.

You snuck a glance across the grid.

Isack was already seated, tapping the steering wheel lightly like he was playing piano. Calm. Calculated. His helmet turned slightly in your direction, like he could feel your gaze even through the visor.

The green light dropped.

You hit the throttle like a shot.

The race was electric.

Tight corners. Aggressive passes. You cut him off twice, he brake-checked you once, and by the final lap, you were nose-to-tail. But on the last turn, he went wide—just wide enough for you to dive inside and steal the lead. You crossed the line half a second ahead of him.

He pulled off his helmet and looked at you like he couldn’t decide whether to be mad or impressed. You hopped out of your kart, bouncing on your heels.

“Well?” you teased. “I take my coffee black.”

He walked over slowly, brushing his hair out of his face.

“You’re fast,” he admitted, breathless and flushed from adrenaline. “Aggressive. You drive like you’ve got something to prove.”

You shrugged. “I usually do.”

Isack tilted his head. “So, why Paris?”

You bit your lip. “Got tired of the noise. Wanted to remember what driving felt like... without sponsors breathing down my neck.”

He nodded, suddenly serious. “Fair enough.”

There was a pause—strangely soft, charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

“So,” he said, finally. “How long are you in town?”

“Three more days.”

He gave you a slow smile. “Then I’ve got three days to convince you to try espresso over drip coffee.”

You smirked. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“It is,” Isack said, still smiling. “You just don’t know it yet.”

You raised a brow. “What’s your plan? Caffeine me into submission?”

“Exactly,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Day One – Espresso & Evasion

You met the next morning outside the café he promised had “the best espresso in Paris, better than Monza paddock coffee.”

It was quiet—just a few locals and a small chalkboard menu in rushed cursive French. Isack ordered for you both, and you didn’t protest this time.

You sat across from each other at a table too small for the distance you were used to keeping.

“This still feels weird,” you muttered.

“What does?” he asked, stirring his espresso with the edge of a sugar packet.

You glanced out the window. “Not being... watched. Not racing for something.”

“You were racing me yesterday.”

You met his gaze. “Yeah, but that wasn’t about the title or points or interviews. That was just... fun.”

He leaned back slightly, fingers curled around his tiny porcelain cup. “You make it sound like that’s rare.”

You didn’t answer right away.

“It is,” you said eventually. “I forgot what fun feels like when there’s a stopwatch involved.”

He didn’t say anything. Just nodded, slow and quiet, like he got it more than you realized.

You sipped your espresso. Bitter. Sharp. Kind of like him.

You didn’t hate it.

Day Two – Karting, Round Two

You beat him again.

This time, he didn’t let you have it. He fought tooth and nail, even clipped your rear bumper once with a grin behind the visor. But you still got him at the line.

As you pulled off your helmet, he pointed at you accusingly.

“You brake late on purpose,” he said. “Every time. You’re a menace.”

“And you love it,” you replied, smug.

He didn’t deny it.

Instead, he shook his head, hair damp, a crooked smile pulling at his mouth. “You know, I think we’d kill each other if we ever shared a team.”

You snorted. “Only if you kept trying to talk about setups while I’m eating.”

“You don’t talk setup while eating?” he asked, mock-horrified.

“I drive by feel, Hadjar. Not spreadsheets.”

He looked at you for a long second—no teasing this time. “That’s why you’re dangerous.”

You gave him a wink. “That’s why I win.”

Day Three – The Pact

It rained.

Not much—just enough to dampen the city, turn the streets slick and reflective, light bouncing off every puddle like glass. You both ducked under a café awning, your coats dripping, hands cold, cheeks flushed from the wind.

You weren’t sure how you ended up here, walking the city with him, just the two of you and a promise that these quiet days weren’t just borrowed time.

He held a cup of espresso in one hand, his free one tucked in his coat pocket. You had a paper bag full of pastries you didn’t need, but he'd insisted they were “absolutely essential to the Paris experience.”

You stopped near the river, staring at the slow swirl of water and the grey blur of the city behind it.

“This has been...” you started, then stopped.

He glanced at you. “Good?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Weird. But good.”

“I get it.”

A quiet beat passed.

“I don’t want to leave and forget this happened,” you said.

He turned toward you fully. “Then don’t.”

You blinked. “We live on different continents.”

“I travel a lot.”

You gave him a look. “You want to long-distance this?”

He hesitated—but only for a moment.

“I want to see what it becomes. Not everything has to come with pressure right away. Maybe we just... meet up. When we can. One race. One place. A deal.”

“A deal?” you echoed.

“A pact,” he said, a little softer now. “Anywhere. Anytime. We show up.”

You exhaled. You were always so used to being all-in, full throttle, no breathing room. But this? This felt... manageable. Real.

You stuck out your pinky.

He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“It’s binding,” you said. “You break it, I’ll outbrake you next time and send you into a barrier.”

He laughed and linked his pinky with yours.

“Paris Pact,” you said.

He nodded. “Paris Pact.”

Six Months Later~

A bouquet of wildflowers sat in your hauler.

Just a sticky note on the wrapping: “See you in Austin. Pact still stands. —IH”

You grinned.

Racing wasn’t the only thing worth chasing anymore.

[mrs-delaney]

Hide | An Unexpected Invitation | Chapter Two

Summary: Riley Carter never expected much from a simple text asking if she liked food, but Joe Burrow's direct approach catches her off guard in the best way. Between late nights at Electric Lady Studios finishing her band's new album and her growing anticipation for their first real date, Riley finds herself drawn to the NFL quarterback's refreshing authenticity. After a messy public breakup left her wary of relationships, especially with someone in the spotlight, she's surprised by her willingness to break her own rules for Joe. As their text exchanges and late-night calls deepen their connection, Riley faces a decision: maintain the careful distance she's built around her heart, or take a chance on someone new.

Pairings: Joe Burrow x Riley Carter (OC)

Word Count: 3.2k

Requested: No | Yes

Warnings: Mild language, flirty banter, mentions of past toxic relationships, public scrutiny, and undeniable chemistry.

This story is ONLY posted on Wattpad and Tumblr under miss_delaney. If you see it anywhere else, it has been stolen. Do NOT copy, repost, translate, or distribute my work on any other platform. Please respect my writing.

Want to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or message me! 💕

Requests: Open

Author’s Note: Here we go! Sorry its late. This chapter is all about setting the foundation for Joe and Riley’s dynamic—playful, unexpected, and just a little bit risky. I love writing those early moments where two people click without fully realizing what they’re getting into. Their chemistry is building, and things are definitely about to get interesting. Let me know what you think! 😊💛

Riley stared at her phone, thumb hovering over the screen as she read Joe's message again.

Joe QB🏈: Do you like food?

A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. Was this his idea of a smooth opener? It was so direct, so oddly simple, that she couldn't help but find it endearing. She'd had guys slide into her DMs with carefully crafted messages, obviously rehearsed lines, and pretentious attempts at intellectual conversation. But "Do you like food?" That was new.

She tapped out a response, deliberately matching his directness with a hint of playfulness.

Riley 🎤: Yes, QB. I like food. Love it, actually. I'm always down for a nice meal.

She hit send and set her phone down on the kitchen counter of her rented NYC apartment, turning her attention back to the coffee brewing in front of her. The rich aroma filled the small space, mingling with the distant wail of sirens and the perpetual hum of the city that filtered through her half-open window. She was only in the city for another week—just long enough to finish the studio sessions for her band's new album before heading back to LA for meetings with their label. She wasn't expecting a quick response—the guy probably had a rigorous schedule with his sponsor events and appearances while he was in town. But barely thirty seconds later, her phone buzzed.

Joe QB🏈: Alright then, wanna come over Friday night? I'll cook you dinner.

Riley nearly choked on her coffee. Well, that was unexpected. Not the invitation itself—she'd had plenty of those—but the casual confidence behind it. No "maybe we could" or "if you're free sometime." Just a straightforward invitation to his place, with the added detail that he'd be cooking. It struck her as both presumptuous and refreshing.

She hesitated, finger hovering over the keyboard. The sensible response would be to suggest a restaurant instead—something public, neutral, safe. That's what her publicist would advise. Hell, that's what she would advise any of her friends. Never go to a guy's place for a first date.

But then again, this wasn't exactly a normal situation. They'd already met on national television. He'd already admitted to having a crush on her in front of millions of viewers. And something about his straightforward approach intrigued her.

Riley 🎤: You're telling me Joe Burrow can cook?

His reply came almost instantly.

Joe QB🏈: Don't sound so surprised. I can follow a recipe.

She grinned, shaking her head at his confidence.

Riley 🎤: Guess we'll see if they're as good as your QB skills.

Setting down her phone, Riley leaned against the kitchen counter and took another sip of her coffee, a strange flutter of anticipation settling in her stomach. She'd just agreed to a date—was it a date?—with Joe Burrow. The same Joe Burrow who'd turned bright red on The Tonight Show when she'd walked out. The same Joe Burrow who'd kissed her cheek and asked for her number with that endearing mix of confidence and nervousness.

It had only been a few days since The Tonight Show, but Riley's life already felt a little... different. Not dramatically so—she was still working with her bandmates on their new album, still navigating the busy recording schedule, still trying to make the most of their limited time in NYC. But there was something new weaving its way through the familiar rhythms of her life: the constant presence of Joe Burrow in her text messages.

She wasn't sure what had possessed her to say yes to his casual "I'll cook you dinner" text, but here she was, letting him monopolize her phone in the best way possible. What started as a simple exchange about food turned into hours of texting—playful, funny, and way too easy.

Each notification from him sent a little jolt of anticipation through her system—a feeling she hadn't experienced in years. Maybe it was the novelty of it all. Or maybe it was just him.

She liked his sense of humor. It wasn't forced or over the top; it was subtle, the kind of humor that made her laugh without even realizing she was smiling. And he paid attention. He actually asked her questions, remembered things she'd told him, and sent follow-up texts that felt genuine rather than perfunctory.

Like yesterday, when she'd mentioned in passing that she was trying to cut back on caffeine, and twelve hours later, he'd texted to ask how the caffeine withdrawal was going. It was such a small thing, but so few people actually listened to the details.

Joe Burrow was nothing like she'd expected.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Most athletes she'd encountered at industry events or award shows had come across as cocky—all swagger and practiced charm, their public personas polished to a shine. But Joe seemed different. He texted like a normal person—sometimes with perfect grammar, sometimes with abbreviations, occasionally with a meme that made no sense out of context but somehow made her laugh anyway.

There was something steady about him that settled her, a calm confidence that never veered into arrogance. In an industry where she was constantly surrounded by big personalities and bigger egos, his groundedness felt like stepping into a quiet room after hours in a crowded club.

And maybe that was why she didn't slam on the brakes like she normally would have. Why she was willing to consider having dinner at his place rather than insisting on a public restaurant with an escape route.

With a sigh, Riley set her empty coffee mug in the sink and headed to the studio. She had work to do, and she couldn't spend the entire morning analyzing text messages like a teenager. But as she settled in front of her keyboard, her phone buzzed again.

Joe QB🏈: What are you up to tonight?

She smiled, typing back quickly.

Riley 🎤: At Electric Lady. Long night ahead.

The response was immediate.

Joe QB🏈: What's Electric Lady?

Riley stared at the screen, momentarily taken aback. Was he serious? Electric Lady was legendary—practically hallowed ground for musicians. But then again, not everyone lived in her world, did they?

Riley 🎤: You're kidding.

Joe QB🏈: I'm not.

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. There was something endearing about his willingness to admit he didn't know something.

Riley 🎤: It's only one of the most iconic recording studios in NYC. Hendrix built it. Bowie recorded there. Springsteen, Patti Smith, The Clash... Do I need to keep going?

Joe QB🏈: Alright, alright. I get it. Sounds cool.

Riley snorted. "Sounds cool." As if she'd mentioned a trendy new coffee shop rather than one of the most significant musical landmarks in the city.

Riley 🎤: Cool doesn't even begin to cover it. It's my happy place when I'm in the city. Something about the history in those walls... it's like you can feel it when you're creating there.

There was a pause before his next message—longer than his previous replies had been.

Joe QB🏈: You sound like you're working late a lot this week.

The observation surprised her. Most people—especially people she'd just met—didn't notice or comment on her schedule unless she explicitly mentioned being tired or busy.

Riley 🎤: Yes, we are on a roll. We're finishing the bridge on this new track that's giving us hell. It's either going to be the best thing on the album or drive us all insane before we get it right.

She set her phone down, turning her attention to the keyboard in front of her. Her fingers drifted across the keys, finding the melody that had been haunting her for days—an insistent, driving sequence that contrasted with the vulnerability of the lyrics she'd been working on. It was the kind of song that would have their fans holding up lighters at shows, a perfect arena anthem with just enough raw emotion to make it personal.

But her mind kept drifting back to their conversation. To the way he actually seemed to care about what she was doing, not just when she'd be free to see him.

The rest of the week followed a similar pattern. When she wasn't at Electric Lady, she was either catching up on sleep or texting Joe. It was quickly becoming her favorite way to wind down after her long nights in the studio.

In the back of a sleek black Escalade, Manhattan's lights refracting through rain-streaked windows, her phone lit up with his name. Not a text this time—a call. She hesitated for only a second before answering.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, Burrow?" she teased, leaning back against the leather seat.

A low chuckle filled her ear. "Probably. But I figured you'd still be up."

"Good guess," she replied, watching the city lights blur past her window. "Just heading back to my place from the studio."

"How's the mysterious project going?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

This was what continued to surprise her about Joe. He was curious about her work, and unlike other people who would ask about her career out of politeness, Joe actually seemed interested in the details. It threw her off at first. She wasn't used to someone wanting to know her, not just the version of her that showed up on red carpets and album covers.

"It's going well," she said, more openly than she might have with someone else. "Today was mostly vocal tracking—the less glamorous part where I sing the same line fifty times until it's perfect."

"Sounds exhausting," Joe commented.

"It can be. But there's something satisfying about getting it exactly right. The guys are patient, though. Andy, our drummer, is practically a saint when it comes to vocal sessions. Nick keeps us laughing even when we're ready to kill each other over a single note."

"I get that," he said, and she could hear the understanding in his voice. "It's like when we run the same play over and over in practice. Looks boring from the outside, but there's something about the repetition, the precision..."

"Exactly," Riley said, surprised by how well he seemed to understand. "Different fields, same principle. The pursuit of that perfect execution where everything just clicks."

There was a comfortable pause before Joe spoke again. "So, we still on for tomorrow? Or are you going to be too wiped from your late nights?"

She smiled into the darkness of the car. "I'll be there. Seven o'clock, right?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I've already started prepping some things."

"Wow, taking this seriously, huh?" she teased.

"Can't have America's dream girl thinking I can't cook, can I?"

Riley groaned at the reference to the media nickname that had stuck after their Tonight Show appearance. "Please don't call me that."

Joe laughed, the sound warm and rich through the phone. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"Uh-huh. I'm hanging up now," she said, though there was no bite to her words.

"Goodnight, Riley," he said, his voice softening.

"Goodnight, Joe," she replied, ending the call with a smile lingering on her lips.

The car pulled up to her building, rain now falling in earnest. As she dashed inside, nodding to the night doorman, she realized she was actually looking forward to tomorrow night in a way she hadn't anticipated. There was something about Joe's direct approach, his genuine interest, his unexpected moments of vulnerability that made her want to know more.

Their calls had quickly developed a rhythm of their own. Late at night, her phone would light up just as she was finishing at the studio.

Their conversations rarely lasted more than ten minutes, but she found herself looking forward to them—this small, consistent connection across the miles between their separate worlds.

But as much as she was enjoying their easy back-and-forth, a part of her couldn't help but hesitate. A part of her kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the easy conversations to turn complicated, for the red flags to appear, for the inevitable letdown.

Her last relationship had left scars she hadn't realized were still there. Her ex—another musician, a guitarist whose talent was matched only by his volatility—had been part of her life for far too long. They'd spent years in an on-again, off-again cycle that was as exhausting as it was destructive. The kind of relationship that burned so hot it left everything around it in ashes, including the early days of her band when they were just starting to gain traction.

The breakup had been messy, the kind that made headlines and left her name plastered all over the tabloids. Paparazzi outside her house, speculative articles about who had cheated on whom, invasive questions in interviews that were supposed to be about her band's music. Her personal life dissected on social media by people who knew nothing about the actual relationship.

She still remembered the sting of the public fallout. The embarrassment. The frustration of people weighing in on something they knew nothing about. The way strangers felt entitled to judge her decisions, her emotions, her life.

After finally walking away for good, she'd sworn off relationships entirely. Not just publicly, but privately as well. She'd made a promise to herself: no more losing herself in someone else's orbit, no more putting her needs second, no more drama that derailed her creative focus.

She'd thrown herself into her career, traveled the world alone, and learned how to be happy without needing someone else to fill the gaps. And for the most part, it had worked. She'd become someone she was proud of, someone she didn't think she could've been if she hadn't taken time for herself.

The band's latest album—the one that had catapulted them from indie darlings to mainstream recognition—had emerged from that period of self-discovery. Their sound had evolved into something more powerfully honest, with electric guitar-driven anthems balanced by moments of intimate vulnerability. Critics had praised their ability to blend raw emotional lyrics with radio-ready hooks, and fans had responded to that authenticity in droves.

She still remembered the moment they realized things had changed for good—a sold-out show in London where the entire crowd sang their lyrics back to them so loudly that she'd had to step away from the mic, overwhelmed by the wall of sound. The guys had looked at her with the same stunned expression, all of them realizing simultaneously that they'd crossed some invisible threshold.

After a year of being single, Riley had found a comfortable rhythm in her independence. She'd learned what she actually wanted: someone who would respect her work while still making her feel cherished. Someone who understood her world without trying to dominate it. Despite the walls she'd built during her recovery from that toxic relationship, she was ready to open herself up again—just cautiously, and on her own terms.

So when Joe Burrow appeared with his straightforward texts and genuine interest, she found herself intrigued in a way she hadn't expected. There was something refreshing about his approach, something that made her curious enough to say yes to dinner at his place despite all her usual rules.

The truth was, she wasn't sure she was ready for anything serious, especially given their careers and geographical distance. But for the first time in a long while, she was willing to at least explore the possibility.

Friday morning arrived with unexpected anxiety. Riley found herself second-guessing her decision to go to Joe's place, wondering if she should text to suggest a restaurant instead. But before she could overthink it further, her phone rang.

Riley was still in bed when her phone buzzed, Joe's name lighting up the screen. She groaned softly, pulling the blanket over her head before answering.

"Hello?" Her voice was still husky with sleep.

"Morning, Riley," Joe said, his voice light and teasing. "Just checking to make sure we're still on for tonight."

She rolled onto her back, blinking up at the ceiling as she smirked. "Why are you calling me so early, Burrow? Don't you know I like to sleep late?"

"Early?" Joe laughed, and she could practically hear the grin in his voice. "It's eleven."

"Exactly. Early," she quipped, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I told you I like to sleep late, especially after a long night at the studio."

Joe chuckled on the other end of the line, the sound warm and relaxed. "Guess I'll have to keep that in mind. But I needed to make sure you weren't backing out on me."

There was something in his tone—a hint of vulnerability beneath the confident teasing—that made her heart soften a little. As if despite all his self-assurance, he genuinely wasn't sure she'd show up. It was those glimpses of real person behind the quarterback that kept drawing her in.

She rolled onto her side, smiling to herself. "Not a chance. I'm looking forward to tonight."

Joe's voice was playful when he responded. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she admitted easily, surprising herself with her own honesty. "You say you're cooking a meal for me. That's really sweet. I can't wait to see what you come up with."

"Just a heads-up to manage your expectations," Joe said, a touch of self-deprecation in his voice that she found oddly charming. "We're not talking culinary genius here."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. What time do you want me there?" Riley asked, sitting up and pushing the blankets aside. Sunlight streamed through the gap in her curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the still air.

"Seven," he said without hesitation, as if he'd had the time planned all along.

"Perfect," she said, already mentally planning what she was going to wear. Something casual but flattering. Something that said "I made an effort" without screaming "I spent three hours getting ready for you."

She had a busy day ahead—a final vocal session, then a meeting with their manager about the upcoming tour schedule. The album wouldn't be out for months, but they needed to lock in venues for the fall tour now. Eleven cities in fourteen days, starting on the East Coast and working their way west. The thought of the grueling schedule would normally make her anxious, but today it seemed manageable. A problem for future Riley.

There was a brief pause before he added, his voice warm with amusement, "Do I need to send you a calendar invite so you don't forget?"

Riley laughed, the sound more carefree than she'd felt in a while. "I'll be there, Burrow. Don't worry—I wouldn't miss this."

Joe chuckled. "Good. I'll see you tonight then."

"See you tonight," she echoed, ending the call and dropping her phone onto the mattress beside her.

She exhaled, staring at the ceiling for a moment, a strange mix of anticipation and nerves swirling in her stomach. This wasn't just some guy she'd matched with on a dating app. This was Joe Burrow. NFL quarterback. Someone who lived as much in the public eye as she did, whose career came with its own unique pressures and scrutiny. Someone who seemed like he might actually understand her world in a way few others could.

But more than that, this was someone who made her laugh, who paid attention, who showed genuine interest in her life beyond the glamorous surface. Someone who didn't seem intimidated by her success or intent on competing with it.

A slow smile tugged at her lips as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She had a date to prepare for.

Yeah. She was definitely looking forward to this.

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART ONE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.5k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?

The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 

There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?

Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 

"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.

"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."

"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 

"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.

"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"

Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."

"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."

"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.

"But—"

"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"

"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"

Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 

"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."

"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 

There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."

And another realization slides into place. 

"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 

Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"

Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 

"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."

"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."

You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."

Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 

Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 

The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 

The extra time was sorely appreciated. 

In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 

There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?

Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?

In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 

Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 

Probably. 

Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 

Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.

"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 

The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 

It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.

It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 

Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 

Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 

It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 

"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 

"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.

When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 

While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 

So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 

Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 

"Hi."

The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 

Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.

"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 

You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 

"Do you practice witchcraft?"

The question stumped Wanda.

"What?" 

"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 

"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."

Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 

"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"

Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 

"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."

Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 

After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 

Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 

You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 

Your parents divorced.

Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 

You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 

You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 

Wanda started to date Vision.

Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 

You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 

Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 

You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 

When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 

Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.

"I'm home!" 

Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.

When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.

"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.

"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."

You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 

"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"

"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."

"Homesickness?"

"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."

"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"

Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."

"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."

Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 

This was everything, Wanda thought.

Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 

"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."

Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.

"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"

"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."

"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."

"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."

Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 

The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 

Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 

"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."

Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."

"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"

"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."

The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 

"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.

"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."

"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."

"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 

"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."

"That's not true," Wanda protests.

"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."

"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."

"But—"

"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 

"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.

And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 

"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.

"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."

"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.

"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."

Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 

There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 

How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?

Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.

The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.

"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.

You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.

It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 

Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.

And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 

Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"

"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 

"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 

"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."

Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"

"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 

The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 

Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 

Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 

Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 

Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.

Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 

As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.

It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 

After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.

Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 

"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"

Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."

"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 

"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.

"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 

"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 

"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."

Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.

Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 

PART THREE

[fujiwaranomokou2]

Beware of mosabsdr (and scammers pretending to be from Palestine)

Remember the response post that I've made to mosabsdr? Well, apparently, I was deceived by mosabsdr the whole time.

Please note that I have nothing against actual and innocent Palestinians, but I made this post to spread awareness against a notorious serial inbox scammer and spammer pretending to be from the same country as them.

One day, @greenpop (thanks for letting me know that mosabsdr is a scammer) told me on my previous post about his ask that he is a scammer pretending to be from Palestine, who managed to buy a verified badge from tumblr themselves and has been called out by people from all walks of life for spamming their inbox in order to ask for 90k USD on their chuffed.org campaign.

Additionally, it was revealed that according to nonaferatu, mosabsdr had other blogs, including abedmajeed and nasergz, all with the same intent of scamming others like you out of your well-earned money.

Actually, I've encountered and seen several scams throughout my entire life, including a few Kickstarter scams like Chronicles of Elyria, and nothing angers me more than scammers profiting from the money of people living in unfortunate situations around the world.

If you're one of mosabsdr's victims, please let me know so that we can avoid fraudsters like mosabsdr that are profiting from the situation people in places like Palestine and my home island, are currently in, and not only that, please block him and all of his associated accounts.

UPDATE (as of April 23rd, 2025):

Shortly after this post was made, mosabsdr tried to reach out to me, trying to do damage control by trying to twist the narrative and lie his way around this situation, but I don't care so I deleted his ask and blocked his ass.

UPDATE (as of April 26th, 2025):

Ah shit, here we fucking go again, with an another scammer called nadinfamily, trying to profit from the unfortunate situations actual Palestinians are currently in, by doing the exact same thing as mosabsdr, this time pretending to be a woman named Nadin living in Gaza. >:-(

UPDATE (as of May 9th, 2025):

Another day, an another scammer. How many times do we have to teach you this lesson, scammer guy? So, I checked his chuffed campaign and wait a second, the math ain't mathing here.

Turns out, the organizer has the same name as mosabsdr, so we know that it's already him, and is asking for 90k USD. Please do not fall for this organized fraud ring and do not donate money to his campaigns in any way.

Additionally, I have reported the chuffed campaign and you should all do the same as well.

UPDATE (as of May 23rd, 2025):

nasr-daher replied to my post this afternoon, trying to damage control by trying to twist the narrative while harassing and gaslighting me in the comments. Here's my response to each of them below the replies:

"Nice try nasr-daher, but no, you're the one who's spreading false info and useless efforts against me and the other vigilante tumblr users who warned others about your scams while harassing and gaslighting them into believing your lies. Additionally, what you're doing is identity theft, as you used the real names of actual innocent Palestinians who are in unfortunate situations due to an ongoing genocide in their own country.

Btw, my speech is 100% correct, from what I can find from other testimonies from other Tumblr users who were victims of your scam.

And no, I didn't contact your so-called "uncle" Mosab, as it's obviously yourself, and verify it with him cuz he's a scammer.

However, people on Tumblr already knew the truth about you and we don't believe your "most people know the truth about us" bs. Besides, the so-called "some of gazavetters admins" are also scammers too.

Also, you're not deeply sorry with that stupid sob story, as your shitty manipulative guilt-tripping ahh tactics don't work on me cuz I am one of the actual survivors of a major disaster which had destroyed most of the infrastructure in where I live and nearby countries 5 months ago, and right now, I only think about one of my lifelong dreams to graduate from high school."

Honestly, from what I can find so far about nasr-daher, he continued to scam other people on here who can't afford most things due to the expensive costs of living in where they live. As a result, after he sent these comments, I immediately removed them and blocked his ass again.

Turns out, according to nonaferatu, there's a theory that the mosabsdr/nasr-daher scammer has stolen the identity of an actual guy, who had a now-defunct GoFundMe fundraiser that had the original goal of 20k euros (equivalent to 22k USD as of writing) and was linked to a now-defunct blog under the name of mssb9996.

Additionally, he had found a verified account with the defunct GoFundMe with the title of "Help me saving who's left of my family" and took over.

Here's the screenshots of the now-defunct GoFundMe fundraiser below, thanks to the Wayback Machine.

According to the description of the defunct GoFundMe, Mosab was a 28-year-old man, who despite being married to his 22-year-old wife (who despite him claiming that she's 21, when in fact she was already 22 at the time when this GoFundMe was originally launched taking to account that she was born in February 2002), with whom he had a 5-month-old daughter named Amani, has gone through a lot in his life, having lost most of his extended family except for his dad and other brother, despite having his own family by his side.

However, somewhere in between late 2024 and early 2025, way before I posted my response to mosabsdr's ask and the GoFundMe was deleted, the title was changed to "Help Mosab saving who's left of his family" while the organizer was changed to a certain Mohamad S, who claimed to be good friends with his neighbor Mosab, and the wording was written in the third-person perspective, except that there are typos that I pointed out with a yellow highlighter.

If you have any more information about the mosabsdr situation, please let me know.

[autisticfaun420]

More on HSN autism and poop I guess

My most popular post by far is my one about my struggle with fecal smearing not sure why. I guess I’ll give you guys a follow up cause I want to talk more about incontinence and how it has affected my life. Sorry new to tumblr and I don’t remember what tags to use so OCD people can filter so I hope this intro is enough of a trigger warning.

I’m gonna be blunt about it, what’s worse then smearing though is just being in public stuck in a shitty diaper really for a couple reasons. I can’t stop myself from having bowel accidents in public, and when I’m having them too I *look* like I’m having one, I can’t stop my legs from squatting like a little kid and there’s often an accompanying sound to go with it. I wish I could say this in a nicer way but I basically go from the tolerable quirky R word to the ew so disgusting R word real fast. People go from smiling at me at least to going to openly degrading me and making comments like I’m not in the room. People get bothered real fast, I can’t blame them it smells bad but it doesn’t change the fact on how I feel inside once I became old enough to realize this was going on. It’s hard for my parents and caregivers to find a place in public to change me and it’s often impossible. The restaurants I eat at, the places so visit, are all dependent on me having a single room bathroom because a proper adult changing station is a pipe dream.

God forbid I have a diaper blowout (where poop goes up the back and out the diaper), then whatever small amount empathy people have goes quickly out the window. I used to like taking the bus with my dad, I can’t do it anymore. I had one blowout on the bus and people acted like their life was in danger “ew ew ew oh my god the r word shit everywhere ew” from someone not even close to where I was sitting, people telling my dad how my mom should of handled her pregnancy, I learned what an abortion was that day. People become blunt when they are mildly inconvenienced with a bad smell and they think it gives them a right to dehumanize someone. I know it’s disgusting but maybe there’s something wrong with me but I don’t think the reaction warrants it. Not when I’ve been at people’s houses and the dog shits everywhere and people go aww he’s just a little guy to the dog. I wish I got that kind of reaction as an autistic child, infantilization is at least better then telling me I should have never been born.

I wanted to write more but sorry I’m crying now. I guess I’ll end it on a positive note. I mentioned in a previous post how one of my high school friends, who grew up with little brothers and cousins, had no problems changing me so we could hang out. I’m not saying that’s an accommodation I expect anyone at all to make for me who’s not a parent or a caregiver getting paid for it, but the fact that he never acted grossed out when cleaning me healed something in me. I would be so embarrassed shitting myself in front of my “cool” neurotypical friends, I would be tearing up and I opened up about it and how embarrassing it is and he basically told me fuck the haters and it’s not something I can control. I didn’t ask for it. A part of me believed I was doing on purpose and carried guilt and guilt leads to meltdowns and smearing incidents. “What do you mean all the cool kids poop their pants” he would say sometimes to make me laugh. During our hangout sessions I would whisper to him “cool pants” or text him that so he could discreetly take me to the bathroom. He’d do it wether he was drunk, stoned, or sober. And like I said in the other post, he was the only reason I was able to have the freedom to hang out without a caretaker or parent in high school and we could all smoke weed together without my parents knowing. I think they did know what I was doing and just let me have my teenage fun, I think my parents thought the weed chilled me out too, which is true, so they let me do it but my cannabis use is a topic for another day.

[themagicalconchshell]

RIGHT IM MAKING A POST ABT THIS NOW

I just woke up to this shit going on in the fandom, and all of it stemmed from a singular emoji created on a private lotf discord server (SHOCKER I KNOW!!! THE CURSE IS REAL AINT IT GUYS!!!). the emoji was a picture of this random guy from a tiktok video dressed in a suit with glasses on with a text above saying "happy new year to my Asian queens only" picture below:

fuckass photo got me laughing HOW WE FIGHTING ABOUT THIS I ACTUALLY CANT

back to the issue at hand, the whole like "gooner piggy" thing i can admit that it originally came from me and Lexi. Lexi originally sent it to the server labelling it as just piggy, nothing of the sort. she just gave the picture. Don't go attacking her, she provided the picture only so leave my goat alone 🙏. Now, I take full responsibility for making the name 'gooner piggy' in the first place, it was just a spark of the moment thing. the whole thing with the word gooner was chosen at the time since I simply thought it was funny, nothing else. I didn't have any malicious intent behind the word, nor any hidden meanings behind it. also, just mentioning that the phrase 'gooner piggy' wasn't talking about him as a child, we were referring to him resembling the guy in the photo, not the man himself. ALSO, I don't know where the whole fatphobic thing came from? if your talking about the fact we said he was a gooner, we said it because the guy in the photo is talking about 'Asian queens only' and it is common in media for Asian people to be idolised for the most simple things. still got no clue about how we are being fatphobic??? I myself am an overweight person and promote being positive about peoples bodies, WHY WOULD I DRAG SOMEONE DOWN FOR THAT???

Now, addressing something about nudity of the boys mentioned in the reblogs of a previous post: this was referring to certain art pieces and shit but ONE incident is very important. this is addressing AKEMII. NO ONE ELSE. anything else was either altered by the ops or by Tumblr taking the stuff down. this whole Akemii thing was them drawing and making prompts on gartic phone of NSFW with the lotf boys. they're are not active anywhere on TikTok anymore and have deleted EVERYTHING on their 2 accounts. no one needs to worry about them or the other people involved anymore because they have now separated themselves completely away from the fandom. that was just to clear that up because we have confused people out there. there's more but I don't have any idea on those situations. just go lurking on TikTok and you'll find shit on that.

this whole argument spawned overnight and is so tiring, I've been looking over posts about this whole ordeal and I just have a question, why are we even arguing about this in the first place? there are BIGGER issues, we have people in the fandom that drew NSFW of the kids (on tiktok, not here but non the less its the same fandom) and yet we are all worrying about THIS??? this fandom is a pisstake I can tell you that. drama over drama every time and it'll never stop, its a damn cycle. one year in this fucking fandom and all I've seen is drama. this fandom has been alive for what, like 3 decades and yet we never change.

in summary, the name gooner piggy came from me, the photo came from Lexi. no malicious intent was behind the name, we don't think the guy in the photo actually is piggy we just said that it resembled the mf, and we changed the name of the bloody emoji yesterday (not me though, because I woke up to this argument on my front door mate) from 'gooner piggy' to 'drip piggy'. Its been changed, there shouldn't really be anything more coming from this all now. this was a post to clear everything up.

I WILL be taking a break from this fuckass fandom idk how long for but I'm still going to be active. I just wont be posting shit abt lotf. this is getting out of damn hand

@s4int0fthep1t @doublefart

[zenith-astral]

already a year

okay, so I had a different project for this, but I still wanted to say something about it here

today is the one year anniversary of my very first post of my little dumbass on the internet

and I wanted to bring attention to some of my favorites on this post, but in my project I may be mentioning more than 50 people lol

@grinnames I’m starting with you. you are a really cool person and I never really made anything for you, but I knew of your god box au and I was intending to draw something for it for a while. But when I dived back in and saw rtv, I freaked. That shit is so crazzzzyyy I love it so much!!! I love the humor as well in it, and I hope it continues! Keep going man, you’re doing awesome nonetheless of drawing or not. You’re one of my new favorites btw! Btw, for the writing I talked about that one post before I disappeared, I’m already two to three chapters in the making already, thank you so much. And you’re right. May Micheals w’s be many and his L’s few! *slowly walks up and looks at you different gremlin style ominously* …you ARE going to bring him back, right?

@strange0-0storm the man of the tumblr sexy man smg8! You have gotta be the first person on the planet of tumblr when I first came on. You had a sick art style and an even more exctatic?? oc, and you had me HOOKED on the arrival. I don’t freakin care if you’re interested in persona five, or literally anything else, I will scroll through your thing over and over again just to be reminded how cool you are and how far you’ve gotten!

@rat-n-atty you have a very special place in my heart, I personally love you (platonically), being one of the very first mutuals I had and one of the mutuals that I was the most shocked. You are still really cool, and you have an amazing gift; don’t let others try to degrade your personality or life, and don’t get too caught up in what the world has to say about you. You are so amazing!

@purpdrawsthings you silly Billy! I remember our first little interaction being that one poster-style thing of where you drew so many amazing people including my silly little Jade! (Which I allegedly may have asked you first) I must admit, I freaked out that day when I saw on my email “purpledrawsthings mentioned you in a post!” I thought that was so crazy, then I knew I wanted to draw for you, and quite honestly, be your friend. You are still so cool and I won’t forget your silliness and- oh btw ur brainwashed au is so cool u introduced me to Hamilton’s music lol, but I won’t forget your silliness and your amazing charm!

@echostarsys you, are also one of my favorite mutuals, straight after atlas, actually. I think you showed up on her blogs and I was like why not follow another person, but seriously, you’re amazing too. I got to know you a bit better on discord (sorry for all y’all I got my computer taken from me) and I didn’t understand some things, but you helped me see it and I just grew to love your talent and your conversations! I wish I had my cpu back so I could use discord again but let’s just wait and enjoy each others time!

@libbytwq YOU! You are literally one of the very vip cool people I follow, and when I first started to interact with you, I was so intrigued by the style of Libby and LE, I thought that was so cool and crazy, and I wanted to draw for you (like I always do) but seriously with all the silly lore you have of your silly lesbian entity makes me wanna freak outttt! I was genuinely inspired and you helped me get through some stuff I might have never seen myself. I am still to finish drawing the “weed brownie” scenario, I just forgot to work on it lol

@its-a-me-mango you mlp fan guy. I honestly- oh yeah I remember now, I drew your profile picture on an index card and something stupid kinda stuck with me, the #they told me to get real so I turned into paper, kinda thing, and then I just figured, draw for this silly guy again. You have gotta be one of the funniest ppl on discord at least when I was there, and I love how silly you are with the tv man, the burger guy, and just the fans you interact with! You are awesome sauce! Also, you should stop eating or whatever you do with your “high glue” or smth, its unprofessional for a donktor-

@coralalala64 I remember when your ThAnGs took the tumblr by storm, and by my life, I still need to draw them- but you have an amazing talent (like I mean to everyone else) and especially reactions, I actually wanted to look at your atyle and figure out how you get the expressions so well! I’m still lowkey a bit crazy about your drawings and your artstyle being so chibi and all, but really keep up your good work! But no pressure, take your time.

aaaand @tiredsmashbros your silly burger guy got into my freaking head man. I love the burger haven and how silly things can get on the server, I used to flip through the channels like I was in five nights at Freddy’s when I had my computer, and I really didn’t want to miss out on anything. Congrats on your own anniversary, and the comics you just blasted into your account got me freaking out! Congratulations on passing college? too, I’m still trying to get out of high school lol. I am, waiting for lipbite/j but I’ll be there when you’re ready. You’re an amazing person, and seriously, you’re fun. Also, I am curious how did you make your book hard copy and all? I’m kinda, writing my own story-

and for the little people who might want a lil spoiler for my silly little project

fine ig

Here y’all go, just the silly lil intro

but seriously for all of you amazing people metioned and not, I really appreciate you guys, helping me personally and just making me laugh when I needed it, and for non-mutuals, I really hope we could be friends!

(I was supposed to post this yesterday)

[saynomorefic]

2024 fandom review

Ty for tagging me @willesredlights @phneltwrites @grounded-parasocial <3

This is going to be a mishmash of formats I've seen, so thanks everyone for giving me ideas

Fics written

I started watching and writing YR this year, so 2024 has really been huge for me in returning to fandom and fic writing. I wrote 27 works (plus tumblr ficlets) and 117k words, by far the most I've written!

First fic posted in 2024: You Kill Me (WIP) 2024-02-06

My love letter to Young Royals. Anyone who has read this, thank you and sorry, it's deeply personal and my raw initial reaction to watching the show.

Last fic posted in 2024: Ghosts of Simons Past 2024-12-23

Silly little christmas fic!

Fav fic I've written: Let's take this overboard (WIP) 2024-06-25

My Mediterranean yacht AU! Ah my beloved. Thank you to everyone for showing this story love. It's still going, I'm just putting the pieces together. How do you pick a direction when you have so many?

It's been a big year of writing :) I haven't written creatively for about 9 years, so it's safe to say Young Royals and this community have ignited a creative spark I didn't know I had in me. When I was a kid my dream was to be a writer. Getting emotional here, but it's hitting me that in a way, that dream has come true in a way! I know fanfic is not technically professional writing, but in a way it's cooler - we don't get to just message our favorite "real" authors whenever we want, nor do bigger authors get to experience being in a club of writers like this! (actually I wouldn't know, but w/3).

Thank you to every single person who has sat down and read my little stories, you guys truly don't know what you have given me and how much it means.

Fics read under the cut <3

Fics read

I can't give a number, but I have bookmarked 117 fics since 2024-02-11, and it's safe to say I've read at least 4x that.. so uh.. it's a lot :''))

This is a list of favs after going through my bookmarks, and definitely not an exhaustive list of all the fics I've read and loved from this past year. Thank you to ALL writers out there for your amazing work <3

First fic I bookmarked/ read: objects in motion by Capiche

Last fic I read: Under the Mistletoe by @vvachillessongvv (so cute!)

Some favorites I've read this year:

Stairway to Heaven by @unfortunate17

the person responsible for finding young royals, and this was one of the very first fics I read! Heartbreaking and wonderful.

Something Real as Pain by @crownedwille

I love how this story directly engages with power differences between Wilhelm and Simon, and I'm so proud of these two <3

be the place you call your home by @phneltwrites

I love them so much. No one does post-canon like you! such a unique writing voice and characterizations to match <3

Faroe Gone by @groenendaelfic

Pining Simon. Pining Wilhelm. Remote island-farm-cottage sex. What more could you want?

We Left Footprints When We Passed By by @in-amor-veritas

One of the first long fics I read, and these two will never leave me.

darling, lost in the darkling woods by Ripki on ao3

honorable mention to Align, but this noir gripped me like no other.

Fright Fest! by @enjoythesilentworld

I adore everything about this, horrorific, whumpy and visceral <33

sleep, dream, you, repeat (live, die next to me) by @espejonight28738

This little gem! The Midsommar AU. So so good, so well written.

bittersweet ecstasy (I pick my poison and it's you) by wthbaby (ao3)

An amazing ABO fic that's more werewolf /fantasy than anything!

The initiation - sorry if we got a bit rough by @silvagrey

A really interesting look at the aftermath of Wilhelm's initiation ritual, and a type of canon divergence I've never seen!

A Glimpse of Us by @simons-purplehoodie

An early love, read this in April and was swept away.

Look at us by @willesredlights

So hot, so sweet, and bonus that it was a gift for me! <33

to color with two by @wildcalendula

I love the way they communicate about sex here. So tender and loving and lovely. Just this whole series!

The Way We Were by queerofthemonth (ao3)

Damaged popstar Simon. Sad Kronprins Wilhelm. Fuck.

Cock by @stretchoutfics

Just so much to say about pining and sexuality crisis Wilhelm. It feels so realistic, and I love their communication here.

One, two, three (Not only you and me) by @skibasyndrome

So much communication, so much trust, so much honesty. And the LAPDANCING? Also, thank you so much for every kinktober contribution, promise we are all very grateful <3

Where We Left Off by @gulliblelemon

So tender, they will literally be in my heart forever. It's time to re-read!

come closer and see into the dark (WIP) by @bigalockwood

I can't decide what's better, unique magical ghosts or juicy slow burn interpersonal relationships at the YR ghost agency. Love <3

losing a friend is the hardest part by psyanky on ao3

God do a love break ups and second chances. And everything psyanky writes.

We're Going to Be Friends (Lilac Grove) by wilmonlibrarian on ao3

I'm so in love. Borrower Simon is adorable, and it blows my mind how this author created this whole world.

I am awaiting you (WIP) by @toffeelemon and thatgayprince (pls help me tag on tumblr!)

I am so in love with Princess Simon and Wille here. Uadhakjsdha

i've got power in my hands (and it's yours for the taking) by @starvalisedham

The library fight from August's POV. There are LAYERS here, and I love how much is up to interpretation reg. his perception of Wilmon.

maybe now maybe here tonight by @dreamyelectronicmusic

I love a getting back together fic, and the writing! I'm in awe.

My Home for All Time by @hergrandplan

Amazing contributions for Wille's month! Every ficlet and morsel.

words written down by @caramelpenguin

Every single one. how do I pick? Thank you for always sharing these beautiful snapshots with us <3

this is the golden age of something good and right and real (Painter AU) series by @alltoowille

I couldn't choose bc the first part was INSANE. and then I read it and realized there was 50k+ after? Think I ascended. Thank you <3

and last but not least obviously by @grapehyasynth

Changed me. Changed how I write, and then changed me again.

Final reflections

I wanted to say I loved helping celebrate Wilmonhits5k on ao3, and big thanks to everyone who participated through fic recs and commenting.

I have to mention the people that keep this fic world turning through fic recs, making gifs, fandom engagement, and more! @simonsapelsin @youngroyals-events @kruemel8 @sillyunicorn @grounded-parasocial @books-books-smolderinglooks @impossibleknots @sillylittleflower and too many more to list. You guys are truly the best <3

If we have never chit chatted, feel free to come say hi! <3 Happy new year to you all, and here's to more YR magic in 2025.