#ginger doesn't know how to tag things

[writinggingerphelonys]

Particle acceleration.

Do atheists exclaim 'Oh particle acceleration!' when they reproduce?

-Phelo and Ginger

[tittiesnhrtz]

hi hiiii idk if you’re still doing reqs 😭 if sooooo can you write ab eating ellie out while she’s on the phone 😞🙏

my apologies if this doesn't hit 😻

warnings: oral, public sex

ellie was on her iphone ten again, the poor thing adorned with spiderweb like patterns, having endured more tough days then you’ve ever seen. the light bouncing from it illuminated her face, highlighting the freckles dotted across her cheeks like the cherry blossoms scattered on the streets of the foreign city you both were meandering through.

this was supposed to be a family trip but of course your parents had to wind up in a work related meeting, leaving you with unused plane tickets and hotel reservations. you couldn’t let their money go to waste, so you asked your girlfriend to tag along. if you knew she’d be on that device ever since you both arrived this morning, you’d have cancelled the trip altogether. “just tendin to a niche game, babe. give me ten minutes.” ten minutes stretched into an excruciating five hours and thirty four minutes. not that you were keeping track. not that you were borderline desperate for her attention. not at all.

you cling onto her like a koala, encircling your arms around her torso, seeking for any sort of attention she can offer, even if it’s something as meagre as the faint sound of her heartbeat responding to your touch. “ellie.” you whine out her name, a pout painting itself on your face. in any other situation, she’d be a horny mess, yearning for more of those pretty sounds falling off your lips, but there was a seasonal event going on and she needed to collect all the weapons. “yeah?” she looks up for three milliseconds, “i’m kinda hungry, let’s go eat.” she intertwines your hand with her calloused one, the coldness radiating from her skin blending with your warmth, making you satisfied for now.

“whaddya wanna eat?” your eyes dart around at the cafés and restaurants passing by, lingering on a certain cat themed cafe. “ellie, look.” you beam, nudging her to shift her gaze at the cafe. “eh.” is all that leaves her mouth. “but you love cats.” your eyebrows furrow. “cause you love em.” you know that’s not true. she’d literally adopted a cat with sleek ginger fur from a sordid alleyway even though you’d warned her about the diseases it could carry. she ended up naming him ‘bricked up monstertruck pussy’ or ‘bump’ when she got tired of calling him by his full name. just when your mouth parts open to speak again, she pockets her phone with her other hand, her thumb caressing the back of your hand. fucking finally. you almost break out into a wide grin, biting on your lip to conceal the desperation that previously resided in you.

“babe, we have to go there.” she starts leading you to a sci-fi cafe, her battered converse moving with enthusiasm. a sound mimicking an airlock opening echoes when ellie steps inside with you in tow. “that’s so cool.” she giggles. the cafe is dimly lit with metallic blue lights, the high ceiling painted with an array of alien stars and galaxies. you slip into a booth at the far end, taking a seat opposite of ellie.

the waiter takes your orders; ellie gets a drink with syllables you can’t even decipher and a burger. you decide on a strawberry milkshake, something basic, and the same burger she chose. “that’s so you.” her face splits into a lopsided grin. “what does that mean?” you play with your bracelet, relishing the feeling of her eyes on you. “dunno…like, you’re sweet..like strawberries.” a smile lingers on your lips, nearly making you forget how she’d been technically ignoring you, until you hear the faint buzz of her phone— a fatuous theme song from a movie blaring as her ringtone.

she has the audacity to hum to the rhythm before picking it up to answer jesse. she rambles on about how she’d managed to beat six levels in just twenty minutes, an obvious lie. you know better, you’d been the one suffering all day. five minutes slip by, fleeting like the rocket in the hologram video flickering on the wall. you’ve had enough, you decide.

you sneak under the table, the tablecloth shiny with neon green glitter concealing you almost completely. she’s manspreading on the couch, giving you easy access to settle between her legs. she doesn’t notice you’ve moved until she feels two hands resting on both of her thighs. you let out a small giggle as she looks down at your head peering through the tablecloth, surprise etching on her face. her breath hitches at the sensation of your cheek resting against her thigh, the rasp of denim against flesh. she secures your chin in the palm of her calloused hand to make you look up at her dilated pupils, green eyes taking on an inky darkness. it feels sinful to be looking at you in this angle. even in the dim light, she can make out your doe eyed expression, and her boxers suddenly feel uncomfortable.

jesse’s voice fades away into the background, his words ringing through the other line but not quite making it into her ear. swiftly, you unbuckle her belt and tug on her jeans, the denim whispering down her thighs. you don’t care that you’re in public, the lighting, the very few people and the fact that you’re in the far end of the cafe should obscure whatever you’re about to do. her grasp on your chin releases and her fingers tangle in your locks as she leans back against the couch. with bated breath, she watches your head settle in between her thighs, stifling a moan when you kitten lick at the damp cotton. her hand clenches at your roots, “atta girl.” she mumbles incoherently.

“el, you there?” you pull back, hearing the faint sound of jesse’s voice. you pat her thigh, “answer him.” your fingers hook into the waistband of her boxers, pulling them down to join her jeans. the cool air dances along her warm exposed skin, as the plush of your lips pucker around her throbbing, swollen clit.

“mngh..y-yeah, yeah.” she grunts, pushing your face further, making you bask in her nectar. your fingers glide against her thighs languidly, as your whimpers get muffled against her core. this feels like an atonement of some sort, the attention you’ve been craving so badly, now all yours. you look up at her through your eyelashes, taking in how she’s biting on the palm of the hand that’s holding her phone to hold back the noises threatening to cascade.

“uhm, ellie..you okay?” she barely registers his confused voice over the feeling of your tongue sliding up and down her folds, making her eyes flutter shut. her juices flow down your chin and onto the leather couch below, as you close your eyes too, messily swirling your tongue in circles around her clit now. jesse repeats his question and she brings the phone closer to her again, “dude, i’ll call you lat- fuck.” her words get cut off by a moan at the sudden intrusion of your warm muscle thrusting inside her weeping cunt.

the phone falls from her grasp, landing somewhere on the ground with a soft thud, probably adding a new crack amongst the ones already marring the screen. she doesn’t even care, her mind clouded with pure bliss. both of her hands card through your hair, feeling the softness of it against her roughness. her forehead rests against the table, back hunching as she quietly whimpers, her thighs closing around your head. the moan you let out reverberates through her body, teetering her to the edge. you spread her pussy lips wider with your fingers, gliding your tongue up and down again.

“gonna…fuck..i’m gonna..” she mumbles against the fabric of the tablecloth, tugging on your hair gently. one of her hand moves to rest on the nape of your neck when she comes, seeing the whole of orion belt as her eyes roll to the back of her head. she lets out a throaty breath as she no longer feels your mouth on her core. lifting her head up from the table, she pulls her boxers up the first thing. she tilts your head up and lets out a moan at the sight of your chin glistening with her juices, not even bothering to lower her voice. the pad of her thumb runs along your slightly parted lips before lingering on the bottom one. she leans down to plant a velvety kiss on your forehead, clamping your cheeks together. “you’re so fucking paying for this when we get back to the hotel room.”

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (1)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: two, three, four, five

Word Count: 2,6K (i was inspired by god itself)

Warnings: none, lot of context (i promise the next chapter will have way less filling), light flirting

A/N: I HAVE ALREADY THOUGHT ABOUT AT LEAST 5 CHAPTERS MORE, I HOPE SOMEONE LIKES THIS FIRST ONE BECAUSE I'M ON MY KNEES FOR THIS DAMN CLOWN. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in other parts! (Side note: i'm spanish, so if there's some mistakes, i'm trully sorry, i don't have beta readers).

It's not enough to suddenly find herself locked in a box with 3 idiots she met a matter of hours ago, no; To make it worse, as it could not be otherwise, it turns out that she is in a bloody circus, ''kidnapped'' by a band of pirates that she recognizes as soon as she sees the red and white tent over their heads, the distressed faces of the poor people that make up the audience, and the costumes of the band around them.

She sighs, and wonders what the hell she's doing there despite knowing perfectly well what kind of decisions have led her to that damned place. Wanna know what happened? Let's recap, shall we?

(Y/N) (S/N). That name doesn't sound familiar, right? Very few know it but the reputation that accompanies the person who responds to it is very famous throughout the 4 seas. She is not a bounty hunter, nor a marine, neither a pirate or a pirate hunter, like the green-haired hottie with whom she finds herself in such trouble, or a thief, like the ginger who she bet, will escape running without looking back at the slightest opportunity she finds.

No, she's a mercenary. She doesn't work solely for money, otherwise she would go against the most bloodthirsty and ruthless of each sea, and that doesn'tt interest her, because she would put herself on the radar of both the pirates and the marines.

No, she is contacted through different channels, none of them direct, and if the job interests her, amuses her, or even piques her curiosity, she accept it. She goes after all kinds of people, whether they are pirates or marines, gangsters at the top of the terror scale or criminals who, like her, tried to keep a low profile.

However, and as we were saying, despite trying to remain anonymous, she is good at her job, a born strategist with an incredible facility to adapt and blend in with her surroundings to sneak into the most remote places, so her existence inevitably began to be noticed along the seas, rumors about this young mercenary with an angelic face, who only responded to her own morals and of whom few escaped to tell the tale.

And this is how she met that group of weirdos who found each others through the power of the plot's convenience; her last assignment was to steal the map from the Grand Line. There are not many, these kept safe and protected in large fortresses throughout the globe, and among all those that she could have tried to steal, she made the horrible decision of going for the one that was closest to her, encountering those three idiots in the crossfire of the disaster that unfolded in Shells Town.

How did she end up giving up the assignment and at that precise moment there, with them?  Simple: Luffy piqued her curiosity. And there are few things stronger than (Y/N)'s curiosity.

"Hey, I know you. I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town, you're the clown guy. Umm, uh… Binky, right?" Luffy exclaimed, as confident of himself as usual.

Buggy, she mentally corrected, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at the same time the clown corrected loudly and dramatically listed his many nicknames. Which she was sure, only he called himself.

''Wow, you have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are.” The audience gasp. There's confusion in the boy's face, and an almost psychopatic tic in the clown's one. ''What did you just say?'' Buggy asks lowly. ''Just that everyone knows who you are.'' Luffy repeats.

''Nose!? Are you making fun of my nose!?’’

Then came the slap, like the one someone usually gives when a friend is trying to steal their food or touch something they definitely shouldn't. Buggy is killing the straw hat boy with his eyes but the gesture is so… innocent.  She expected threats with knives, to be honest.

And because of the unexpected, she almost let a laugh escape in the form of a cough but she controlled herself fast enough to not grab unnecessary attention to her.

''What's real is...'' Buggy resumes the conversation, getting some distance with Luffy to walk around the rest too.  ’’I’ve been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe-Hand moron…’’ (Y/N) sees how he approaches her, but she didn't expect him to close the distance between each other so much, his nose almost touching her own, sharp blue eyes fixed on her from a slightly lower perspective. The truth is... that she also doesn't know how to tell if that nose is real or not, but now she really wants to touch it to find out. Dear God, what a realistic texture. It’s incredible.

Pressing her lips together in a contained expression as she shakes her head, she raises an eyebrow, letting him know that the joke wasn't as funny as he hoped, and he clucks, accepting defeat in such good humor that no one would say, that is a kidnapping and someone would end up dead by the end of the day.

She heard of him. His reward was not one of the highest but neither one of those that go unnoticed in the East Blue. He was also an eccentric, of course people talked about the blue-haired, red-nosed clown who terrified his victims in a macabre way. Those who survived ended up traumatized.

He is, or at least looks, younger than she imagined, and he fit right in with the urban legends of evil clowns kidnapping children and then dismembering them. She wonders, silently, thoughtful eyes scanning his face and body language from a distance, if this is some softie on the inside with high aspirations in life who was unfortunate enough to bump into someone who traumatized him and hence all this show and facade of the cruel and heartless clown -to protect himself as the good cliché he seems- or if, on the contrary, he is, simply and plainly, a yandere who craves attention no matter how he has to obtain it.

If she remembers correctly, there was also a rumor that he ate a devil fruit. Just like Luffy, which it doesn't take long for the clown to discover after Zoro tries to save the situation by showing off his reputation -obviously it doesn't work- and Nami does exactly what (Y/N) predicted. Not her fault, either, she doesn't owe any of them anything at all.

''Okay. Here ends the theatrics.’’ The lights go out and it’s then that everyone can small the disaster in the air. A chill runs down the back of (Y/N), who tends to infiltrate without being seen and avoids, whenever possible, a direct encounter; hand-to-hand combat is not exactly his specialty. And given the circumstances is impossible for her to know if the daggers she usually hides in the side of his combat boots -for emergencies like this one- are still there. ''I know one of you has my map, and I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?”

How long were they unconscious before? Enough to hijack the ship, get to land, and move 4 dead weight bodies to that circus, locking them in a box. By that point she would bet some member of the gang would have thoroughly searched the ship, and them too. Disgusting.

Buggy takes a last, attentive look at both Zoro and Nami, ruling out that one of the two has the map because when the girl tried to flee, Luffy was not shocked thinking that perhaps she would steal it from him. Which leaves the two of them, Luffy and her, alone with him.

''So, please'' the clown gestures to his subordinates with his head. ''make these two guests uncomfortable in the green room. I’m gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal and…’’ His eyes jump to her, tilting his head to the side with genuine curiosity. ''this beauty that was incapable of taking her eyes off me.''

Fuck. Was it that obvious?

''Doll, you are the only one who hasn't opened your mouth yet and I don't think it's because you’re a shy little flower.'' He begins, circling around her like an animal hunting its prey, analyzing it, hoping to see a chink of weakness to attack. ''Are you bored?'' He asks almost in a whisper near her ear. ''Is that it? Are you so, so bored that you don't think it's worth enough interacting with the rest of us?'' Breaking away from her when he realizes she doesn't falter, he smiles a huge, threatening smile, looking her up and down in such a way that it almost makes her feel dirty. "Or maybe you're the one who has my map, and you're quiet to try not to attract /my/ attention."

She? The map? Wearing such tight pants and top? Yeah, maybe up her ass, but she's not the one who is going to tell him otherwise because if he, or one of his subordinates, comes to search her, she could take advantage of the opportunity to steal some sort of weapon from them.

In particular from Buggy; (Y/N) saw the knives he keeps in his coat and… she wouldn't mind taking a closer look at that interesting nose.

"Busted." She finally admits with a lopsided smile, raising both eyebrows when she sees the surprise on the clown's face. He didn't expect such a cocky response, did he? "I'm not the type of person who likes to attract attention, the spotlight is for others who are more... flashy." She pronounces it honeyedly, repeating the same nickname he used before, pointing at him with a gesture of her chin. "However, I'm not going to tell you where the map is. If you want to find it, come and search for it yourself."

Shrugging her shoulders, she stretches out both arms in a gesture that invites him to come closer. Bold, he thinks, more than pleased with this unexpected turn of events, taking some steps in her direction. She adds once more: "although I would be surprised if you hadn't already done it during the time we have been unconscious"

"Me?" He points at himself, stopping right in front of her. "Take advantage of a defenseless young lady?" He almost sounded offended if it wasn't for the shit eating grin and the eager way he was scanning her body now. "What kind of degenerate do you take me for?"

She scoffs, and Buggy, unsure, seems to consider -for some long seconds- whether or not to do the job himself, (Y/N) being too calm for how helpless she seems. But surely, he knows, she doesn't have any weapons on her; his subordinates were in charge, as she said, of searching all of them as soon as they were brought to the circus.

In the end he gives up, because he would be damned if he dared to refuse to thoroughly touch this mysterious woman who may, just may, have his map hidden somewhere. He strongly doubts it, tho.

Soon enough, he moves again, standing then behind her, and without asking permission, he doesn’t need it either, his hands start roaming her shoulders and sides slowly, making sure to feel anything weird between her clothes and the skin underneath. Like the fucking map, folded until it is nothing more than a small piece of paper easy to hide. 

Because that is the whole point of that scene, right?

"Go on, be my guest." she says sarcastically, trying to stay calm and breathe slowly, because (Y/N) likes to pretend to be made of stone, but not /that much/. The pressure of those gloves against her already tight clothes and the hungry way she knows those -green? blue? difficult to say with those circus lights- eyes are watching her every move make her heart beat a bit faster in something she’d call /the average amount of nervousness when a known, wanted pirate search for something we wants while threatening to kill you if he doesn’t find it/.

Buggy, on the other hand, is so engrossed in his task that his usual cocky smile has disappeared a few seconds ago; he is waiting to feel a change in the girl's body language to be able to guess if she has it or if, on the contrary, this search will be saved in his memory as no more than a small pleasurable pause after all the stress that the goddamn map is putting him through. Because he can't deny it, she's actually a beauty, and in other circumstances he wouldn't mind getting to know her in a funnier way. At all.

Inhaling deeply, wetting his red lips with his tongue, he lets the air out slowly, tilting his head to the side to see her better. He should hurry up and stop making that scene as intimate as it's becoming, audience and all, but he's a thorough man. Or that’s the excuse -explanation- he will give to whoever dares to ask.

"Where the hell did you hide my map?" He asks melodiously as he finishes searching her torso, his right hand starting to go a little lower, getting dangerously close to her hipbone when (Y/N)'s right hand flies up and catches his wrist between her fingers, stopping him dead in his tracks. She couldn't help it, she acted on autopilot, she is not ready to be the main character of a porn movie with audience included letting him roaming all around as he pleases. "Not between my legs, so keep lowering your hands and I'll cut them off." she threatens, turning her face to look at him standing behind her.

Right back, as if those words were magical or something, the huge, shit eating smile of his returns to the lips of the unstable clown, and without letting go, he makes her spin, facing her with both hands on her waist, strongly keeping her in place, sharp eyes fixed on her, and without realizing it, she stops breathing for a second. "You promise?" He whispers, pleads almost, in an amused, delighted tone of voice after such a threat. She was way interesting than he expected, not as shy or scared as an unarmed girl like her should be. He likes that. A lot.

However, he has -sadly- things to do and he did in fact, already lost time with her. His eyes betraying him the moment they land on the girl's lips, Buggy winks at her with a cocky expression and pulls away suddenly, raising both arms "Another disappointment, how many more can our audience endure? You’re the only one left, Rubber Boy, don't let me down." He points him, moving closer, while (Y/N) just stays there where he left her, wondering what the fuck just happened and why does her heart run so fast now.

Adrenaline, probably.

"Take her with the others" he ends up saying to a couple of members of his gang, to which she responds by moving on her own in the direction of where they have taken Zoro and Nami before, preventing them from guiding her by force and discovering the knife she stole from Buggy when he got so damn close to her, and which she secretly hid between the waistband of her pants and her shirt.

Risky, she could cut herself with the smallest movement at the least expected moment, but it was way worse to see herself unarmed.

Buggy, infatuated, takes one last look at her and, raising one hand, waves his fingers in the air with a huge smile on his face as he says goodbye to her.

"See you later, love."

[gayferrari]

I’m going through your sebmark recs and wanted to know could you do another list for brocedes?

WOPS sorry this is so late, I saved it to the drafts and it slipped my mind. This is pretty varied; I hope there's something new-to-you to enjoy!

on the faultline by @monacotrophywife. Multichapter; Brocedes through the years. Sort of canon-compliant until it isn't. Rated E.

so many fics by @lost-decade — they're mostly older works, I remember reading a few back when and then I revisited them this year and they still hit. some of my faves:

All That You Can't Leave Behind. AU where Nico goes to university instead of racing and eventually becomes an F1 engineer

an empty space to fill in. PWP + character study, silver war era

traviamento. In 2004 Nico invites Lewis on holiday with him and Vivian

constellation falling into place by wraysford. Speaking of AUs where Nico goes to university. This is set in 2007 during Lewis's rookie season. Rated T; some angst + getting together.

post 2016 AUs

and it feels good (to be known so well) by @gokartkid. Lewis forgets his apartment keys. Guess who might have a spare copy from years ago. Rated M. tagged: the emotional complexity of living in the same building as your childhood friend-lover-enemy-rival

dirty valentine by @sionisjaune. fic series, ongoing, established relationship post 2022. Includes 4 complete one-shots, mostly rated E.

fresh old mistakes by bestliars. Abu Dhabi 2021. Sometimes u lose a championship fight and fuck your ex about it. Rated E.

hall pass by @/monacotrophywife. Brocedes but make it 2023 and Nico's wife is okay with sharing. Rated E.

Lemon, Ginger and Honey by witchee_writer. Feel-good 2022 season AU; getting back together. Rated T.

remember to forget me by @12romy. Amnesia AU! what if you got hit in the head and forgot just how rancid your situationship became? Set in 2021.

RULE 63 / genderfuckery

desire unfolds by bestliars. girl Lewis/Nico. Rated E. tagged: anal sex, first time, catholicism.

if I get too close by @/monacotrophywife. that one trope where a driver wakes up temporarily turned into a cis woman and needs to have sex to go back to normal :) temporarily a girl! Lewis / Nico ft. repression like woah. Rated E.

want you to be my girl by @/sionisjaune. f/f. Rated E. underage. fisting. check out THIS FANART ALSO.... PLEASE.... (nsfw)

brocedes-adjacent — threesome fics + fics where Lewis or Nico fuck somebody else about their issues.

I hesitated to put these on the list because they aren't Nico/Lewis BUT they are on-theme, they're all very good, and it's my post so why should I limit myself. But skip if it's not your vibe!

[Sebcedes] only bad thing about a star is they burn up by @blorbocedes, Nico/Lewis/Seb; au where nico retires after 2016 and him and lewis get married. Rated M. (If you like this sebcedes vibe + Rule 63 I also enjoyed their challengers AU with f!Lewis)

[Sebcedes] double or nothing by @grideon. Nico wins the Monaco Grand Prix. Even better: Lewis doesn't. Rated M.

[fics with past / background brocedes] If you're down for fics where they fuck somebody else while the Past Relationship Looms, I enjoyed these both as rarepair fics but also bc of the Former Brocedes of it all: my kind’s your kind by @/monacotrophywife (Nico/Charles) & the price of the prodigy by @saff-rons (Lewis/Max)

that's all! (for now) if you enjoy drop the authors a line etc. sorry again this took forever

[piastree]

Take a Chance with Me | OP81

oscar piastri x reader (fc: huh yunjin)

— Part 4

Previous Part

Summary: When things aren't going well, Y/N takes a break for a while and redirects her focus to other things, spending more time with Oscar and her friends. Y/N's friends and Oscar consistently support her, ensuring Y/N is okay, even though she often insists she's fine. Disclamer: This is a story created for fun without any hate towards anyone. This work exists in a realm separate from the original canon. Characters may be divergent from their established personas. So, just enjoy the rollercoaster ride.

oscarpiastri added a story

landonorris are u proposing mate? oscarpiastri yeah mate, proposing to decide who pays the bill

yourbff

tagged yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, user and 29,112 others

yourbff Through thick and thin, we've been laughing side by side for ten fantastic years. Wishing you endless happiness❤️

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user friendship goalsss

user they are so PRETTYYYY

user both of you are not only stunning but also funny😂

oscarpiastri reserving my spot for the next decade😁

yourbff you're claiming to be one of my best friend spot now? i'll ask y/n first for the approval

lilymhe

liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon, carmenmmundt and 29,112 others

lilymhe nature therapy🍃💖

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user lily with y/n?????

user lol y/n just casually third-wheeling Lily and Alex😂

user mother, father and their daughter

user isn't y/n outfit too fancy for hiking??😂

lilymhe she thought we were just joking about going hiking😭

alexalbon y/n seemed a bit lost without oscar

oscarpiastri well, she loves being a dork

user MOTHER SLAYING AS USUAL😍

user Y/N is literally everywhere but not on her own Instagram :(

user yeah but we love seeing how people around her being so supportive

f1updates

liked by user, user, and 25,865 others

f1updates oscar was seen at a karting track with the young karteers yesterday

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user finally we got new pics of oscar!!

user it's cute seeing the interaction between the kids and oscar

user AH OSCAR I MISS U POOKIE

user this is so lovely<3

user no y/n?

user i guess y/n isn't kind of wags who sticks to her partner all the time🤷‍♀️

user agreed, i've seen her at races only a few times

user when she doesn't need him anymore, she throws him under the bus

user lol wdym she just know what she should prioritize. Even oscar himself said she has her own life

imessage

f1wags

liked by user, user, and 10,901 others

f1wags After a brief hiatus from social media, y/n makes a cameo on her friend's IG Live today! In today's live, she spilled the beans on some questions about her christmas holiday in Australia and the short getaway in Japan with Oscar. She couldn't help but gush about the incredible experience—her first time in Australia. Oscar played the perfect tour guide, showing her around his hometown and introducing her to his family. He also told us about their short getaway in Japan. Y/N explained that they haven't seen each other for more than two weeks as Oscar is already back to work—busy with meetings, simulator sessions, and prepping for the upcoming F1 season at the McLaren Technology Centre, and she have to return to her work and projects too.

And can we just say, we're glad the couple is still in good terms after the recent not-so-great rumors?

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user OMG, missed seeing you around, Y/N!

user she's talking about christmas in australia and their japan getaway? I need all the details!!

user she said they went to kyoto, disneyland, tried some street foods and traditional tea ceremony🥺

user i'm so happy y/n and oscar are still going strong and just ignore the haters and rumour

user their holiday stories are giving me major FOMO

user you radiate beauty and glow when you are unproblematic<3

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbff and 102,999 others

yourusername in 2023, my journey went from ginger to black, mirroring the different stages of my life. It's like a colorful map of my growth and transformation, representing the beautiful journey i've had. Grateful for the lessons, the love, and the incredible people i met along the way❤️

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yourbff always proud of you!!❤️

user you're the sweetest, y/n! please always be happy❤️

landonorris what's wrong with the last photo?

yourusername my reaction when u got pole in Brazil

landonorris really?

yourusername whatever makes u happy🤗

user wish you nothing but the best, y/n❤️

user caption on point💯

yourusername

tagged oscarpiastri

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yourusername same with me again next year?

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user would be funny if oscar reacted with no

yourusername DON'T GIVE HIM IDEA

oscarpiastri i'll take that as reference thankyou😁

user adopt me

user the second pic is adorable😭

user this is the cutest photodump ever omfg

lilymhe ❤️❤️

yourusername love u mother, xo

oscarpiastri ready for another journey with me?

yourusername 💑💯

notes: honestly, i really want to put some conflict but i dunnoooo i can't bring myself to do it because i love them so much<///3 i dont want to mess with their lovey-dovey bickering dynamic:((( Maybe in the next part, I'll toss in some drama to keep things interesting hahaha lol. Thankyou for reading this chapter and hope u like it. Anyways, what do you think so far? Share your thoughts and let's have a chitchat with me<3

taglist: @fall-bambi @minkyungseokie @neoivy1

[steddieas-shegoes]

teach me your kingly ways

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'platonic stobin' rated m wc: 652 cw: referenced sexual activities tags: established steddie, awkward robin, buckingham

------------------------------------------------

"You can't be seriously telling me that if I just walk up to her and ask her out that will work," Robin let her face fall into her hands.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you," Steve said. "It worked on him."

Steve gestured over to where Eddie was nodding along to something Chrissy was saying to him, fond smile on his face.

"That doesn't count!"

"Are you trying to say Eddie's easy?" Steve folded his arms across his chest. "Because it took me another six weeks just to get his shirt off."

"I'm saying he was already in love with you when you asked so obviously he was gonna say yes!" Robin started throwing her arms around as she ranted, forgetting that the object of her desires was standing not too far away. "Chrissy hasn't given me any sign that she likes me and she probably doesn't because I've been throwing signals left and right. I can only tell a girl she looks beautiful so many times before it becomes creepy, dingus!"

"Robs, does she know you're into women?" Steve sighed, starting to get frustrated with Robin's inability to make a move. "Or does she think you're just being a good friend?"

"I can't just tell her I'm into women! Then she'll know."

Steve threw his arms up.

"I hate to break it to you, but if you ever want to touch her boobies, you're definitely gonna have to tell her you like women. Or at least make sure she knows it's not platonic booby touching."

"Please stop saying boobies."

"If you ask her out, I'll stop," Steve smirked, nudging Robin's arm. "I might even offer to go on a double date so it's less awkward for you. Ease you into things."

"Oh, how chivalrous," Robin rolled her eyes. "That doesn't help me, Steve. I'd just be worried that you and Eddie would be so in love and Chrissy would expect me to be smooth or something and I'm not-"

"Hey Robbie," Chrissy was suddenly standing in front of them, beaming at Robin. "Eddie said something you needed to ask me before I head out?"

Steve's head shot over to Eddie, who gave a finger wave and then turned towards the kitchen like he hadn't just made bigger moves than Robin and Steve combined.

"Oh, did he?" Robin chuckled nervously. "I-"

"Oh yeah! The thing!" Steve smacked his own forehead. "Remember? You were gonna ask her to go to that place with you?"

Robin looked like she was about to kill him or pass out, in that order.

"Right, the place."

"What place?" Chrissy looked excited.

Steve threw Robin a thumbs up as he backed away.

"Oh, um, you know that new restaurant downtown? They have these fusion salads that sounded like the ones you make at home and figured maybe you'd wanna go? With me? Sometime?"

It wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst.

Steve nodded in encouragement as Robin looked at him.

"I didn't know they opened already! I saw they have this plum salad with a ginger vinaigrette, and it sounds so good. I'd love to go!"

"Um, awesome!" Robin stood up straighter. "And it's okay that it's...just us?"

Chrissy leaned in and whispered something in Robin's ear, leaving her face bright red when she pulled away.

"Bye guys!" Chrissy turned and yelled to Steve and Eddie, who was standing beside him watching.

"Why does Robin look like she's gonna black out?" Steve asked Eddie.

"Probably because Chrissy just told her they could hang out at her place after."

"So you've been working that angle this whole time," Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "Impressive."

"You should go check on her, she looks pale."

"She's in shock, she just needs a minute."

"Steve!"

"Be right there!" Steve turned to give Eddie a quick kiss on the lips. "Love you, you meddler."

"I come by it honestly, sweetheart."

[mayonnara]

i really wonder if any of you stop to give at least a little bit of a shit

this is one example, by the way. BIG accounts are like this too

they pretend to be agree and be like "THIS!!!" but in the side lines they're doing the same. don't be like these people. if you like something, then puff out your chest and don't be a pussy about it. tell everyone how you're into watching kids shooting other kids.

there's no such thing as not condoning this type of thing. there's no such thing as being a "researcher" when you're clearly just glorifying them and making them "quirky uwu". just say it. say that you're a horrible person. it's easier for everyone.

i always check the little "similar accounts" tab, it's very helpful for finding shitty people.

im putting this in the postal tag because im still getting notifications about tcccunts liking my stuff. since this is a side account i noticed that no matter how many people i block they still have access to my posts, and i don't have access to theirs. tumblr, fix your site.

since im incredibly pissed about this, and i can't sleep, im going to rant.

i think we should change the meaning of "community". are you really part of a community if you got caught in a school shooting, they would be worshiping your shooter? are you really part of a community if you got killed and recorded, people would just be looking at your dead body and laughing instead of being sad? are you really part of a community if you're doing something illegal?

this is why i believe there's no such thing as a true crime community. or a gore community. or anything of the sort.

for me, you're all just as bad as maps, proshippers, terfs, and all that bad bunch.

i think its just common sense that these people should be ridiculed and isolated from any fandom, but here in this fandom? no, it's okay, we'll dickride you because you're different, it's a different thing y'know? stop being so sensitive. respect them.

i swear make it make sense. just, make it make a lick of sense.

it just makes me so angry because the games are satire, they're supposed to be funny and be like "ohh haha ginger man pisses on bodies lmaoo", and nothing is real. even if postal was a game about a teenager that goes on a school shooting and it's extremely realistic and shit, it's still not real. then why would you associate something like that to such horrible things? hell, i HATE shooting games and even i thought postal was kinda fun, i went pacifist for all my playthrough but i made another game file and went exploding the town and killing everyone. you know why i can do that? because its not real. why can't you just leave it at that? don't mix two things that have nothing to do with each other. don't glorify people that hurt real people. that should just be common sense.

oh but may, you drew yourself with postal dude once! you cry, but guess what. IM NOT A SCHOOL SHOOTER AM I NOW

also, i wanted to rant about something that really does piss me off as well. why do artists get a pass when it comes to this shit? or just, anything in general. why is when they post horrible shit, it's alright, but when its someone that doesn't make art, or is a beginner, it's a tomato throwing party? do it to both of them. them being able to draw shouldn't give them a shield to do horrible shit. it shouldn't matter how many followers or how notes they have, hold them accountable for crying out loud. "but they make art i like" and? you're just excusing their behavior, you're excusing what their doing because you "like their art". that's just.. it's just insane to me.

i have never seen a fandom like this. i have been in the genshin fandom, i have been in the south park fandom, i have been in the cookie run fandom, i have been in the onceler fandom, and none of them, absolutely none of them were as bad as this one. i didn't even know that was physically possible.

all of you are like, 19, 23, 24 whatever, you should know better than to excuse this behavior. like i said, puff out your chest and tell everyone how you really are. just say it. don't pretend you're innocent.

you know what's funnier? theres currently the genocide going on in Palestine. and these fuckers be posting about it, #savepalestine! #helppalestine! they don't give two SHITS about it, and you still go and like "oh but they post about Palaestine" they're out there watching people dying and enjoying it, you think they CARE about a GENOCIDE?? it's what they love! seriously, this is just so uguugghhg

my brain can't comprehend someone like this. it just can't.

[hoenoredone]

IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH – nanami kento

a/n: sorry for the inactivity, exams have been kicking my ass

contents: nanami is starting to get old. he used to be able to withstand nights of drinking until he passed out and the subsequent work day, but now the a/c gives him a cold. tags: sfw, enstablished relationship, married au, non sorcerer au, fem!reader, talks of snot and fever, unbelievably self indulgent.

unbelievable. un-believable. you knew something was wrong when nanami had made himself a cup of chamomile tea with a spoonful of honey the night before. he had told you he was just tired from work, but – realistically – who wants to have hot tea in the middle of july? he had been clearig his throat way too often before going to bed, and he looked like he was struggling to swallow whatever food you offered.

after years of marriage you knew better than to ask him about it, he'd only deny feeling unwell. so you do the next best thing: slip him a tablet for his sore throat with the usual vitamins he takes every night. he fell asleep almost instantly, his body already tired from fighting off the illness. he unintentionally woke you up at around 4am from blowing his nose a little too hard, causing him to cough into the tissue.

he struggled to fall asleep again after that, tossing and turning every couple of minutes, no doubt from not being able to breathe properly. it's in that precise moment (5:33am) when you decide that he's taking the day off tomorrow. he's an icredibly responsible worker, he has more than enough sick days accumulated to be able to use at least one.

you wake up before him – miraculously, considering how little sleep you got – and make him some breakfast as quietly as possible. you decided not to turn off his alarm clock because you knew he would not listen to you and simply rush straight to work if you had done that. so you opt to set the table and place the freshly squeezed orange and ginger juice next to his green tea and a bowl of honey-banana oatmeal.

you hear the familiar beeping of the alarm clock as you're pouring yourself a cup of coffee, and patiently wait for your husband to come into the kitchen. you must be lost in thought because you almost don't notie him until he rests his head on your shoulder and tries to stifle a cough.

"morning," he groggily says.

"sweetheart," you coo while turning to face him, "did you have trouble sleeping? i heard you coughing at some point. here," you place your coffee down on the counter and raise your hand to his forehead, "let me see."

you almost gasp at the heaviness of his eyelids and the unusual warmth of his forehead.

"kento, you look ill," and he knows you're serious, you never call him by his name.

"i feel fine," he tries, but he knows that it's useless. he doesn't feel too bad, just congested. and he has a headache. and his throat is killing him. he can power through.

"have some breakfast and go back to bed, i'll text your boss and bring you some medicine after," he can't even protest, the thought of having to get ready and go into that cold, cold office where his cubicle is inches away from the a/c sending chills down his spine. not like his protests would matter much, regardless, as you're already sprinting to his phone. so he sits down, alternates between sipping his tea and the juice you had made him (the ginger burns his throat but he forces himself to swallow). he tries to eat most of the oatmeal but his stomach just doesn't agree with him, so he leaves a little less than half of it in the bowl.

he's a good man, tidies up after himself even when oh so horribly sick, and goes back to bed. once you hear the rustling of the covers you know you've succeded. you exit the bathroom, a smidge of eye cream unblended on your cheek, and hand him a glass of water and some ibuprofen. you make sure he has enough tissues by the bed and leave him a bottle of cough syrup and a spoon on his nightstand. you tuck the comforter all the way up his chin and grab some clothes to get ready for work.

once you're ready you come back into the bedroom and almost decide to leave without giving him a kiss in fear of disturbing his rest. you opt against that, knowing how unusually whiny your husband gets when he's sick. so you place a gentle hand on his arm and leave a peck on his forehead.

"i'll try to be back for lunch," you whisper, "but if i don't make it there should be some leftovers in the fridge if you feel up to it."

he groans in response as you make your way to your shoe rack, a barely audible "love you" from him painting a smile on your lips as you quietly close the door.

[headphones-ct-09978]

So....I saw this earlier today. Apparently this is Kylo Ren's quarters and it's just.....so freaking sad! 😢

That being said, I had an idea: What if Kylo's apprentice, who works for/with Hux and is paid a hefty wage, buys him a new bed and other comforts?

Comfy

Kylo Ren X General Hux X Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Kylo Ren's apprentice worries about him.

Tags: @kylorenny @jaynesilver @lifeofroos @knightsofladyren

(I tagged some of you cuz I thought you'd like this. Lemme know if you don't wanna be tagged in any more 😅)

. Your master was away on yet another solo mission, the directive unknown to you. While he was away, you were back to working for Hux as his assistant. Things were running smoothly, and with Kylo gone, Armitage seemed a little more at ease. Either it was that tea he was sipping once again, or the absence of your master, but he was smiling more and was generally more relaxed. That morning, or rather, the start of your rotation, was no different. You were busy filling in data into your data pad when he walked over to you and rested his hand on your shoulder, a gesture which was rare but welcome. "How's the report coming along, Y/n?"

You flashed him a startled smile, his action shocking you out of your thoughts momentarily. "It's going fairly decent, General. Everything is accounted for and the updates from our suppliers just arrived. Is there anything we need, aside from rations and weapons?"

Hux thought for a moment, reading what was on your data pad over your shoulder. After a moment, something seemed to click in his head. "You have everything listed, but Lord Ren has...certain preferances in regards to rations."

"He's a picky eater?" you asked in jest, glancing over your shoulder at the ginger general. Hux snorted "I wish it were that, but no. He's on a strict diet, at least that's what he's mentioned."

"Do you know what he prefers? He hasn't told me much about his...personal habits." you replied, opening a new tab on your pad so you can jot down any notes or suggestions Hux had. But Hux shook his head. "I haven't the faintest of clues as to what that man likes or doesn't."

"Fair enough."

A moment passed as Hux thought of a solution. "He may have some products in his quarters that may clue us in as to what he eats." he retrieved his own data pad and swiped the screen a few times before he pulled up a pass code and sent the set of numbers to you.

"What's this?" you asked as you stared at the lengthy line of numbers.

"That is Kylo Ren's pass code to his quarters. He's an extremely secretive and private man and it was a pain to figure this out."

You tried to hide the smirk on your face. "And why, General, would you want to enter his quarters?"

Hux flicked the tip of your ear, a tiny playful gesture. "We have regulations here aboard this ship, and those regulations require a certain level of tidiness. Kylo has very little time, it seems, to keep his quarters neat. The pass code is for service droids to clear up any...messes he leaves." The General was, of course, referring to the times when Kylo vented his rage on anything within reach, often destroying furniture or consoles. Hux, as always, had to either pay for the damages himself or clean up the debris.

"Ooooooh, oh I get." You said, still flashing him a cheeky smirk, a smirk which he returned moments before he took another sip from the mug he was holding.

"Well, in that case, I'll go take inventory of what he has and get back to you on that." With that, you gave him a tiny salute and headed towards your master's quarters.

...

"Whoa..."

As the doors whooshed open, you were greeted with a cold, stark sight. The room was entirely black, it's lights a cold white. The table was empty, the bed that was against the wall was entirely too small for your master. The room was devoid of comfort and warmth, at least the kind of warmth that a man with such status should have. There was no furniture whatsoever, aside from the one chair that was near the table. You walked in and immediately shivered. It would appear that not even the heat was on in this room. "How can a man live like this?" you mumbled, feeling pity for your master as you walked towards the cupboards.

The cupboards, which were also a smooth, obsidian hue, were situated on the opposite side of the room, near what you assumed was a sink. You opened one of the cupboards and found...absolutely nothing. His shelves were empty save for a few dust bunnies. The sight concerned you. "How the fuck does he eat or sleep? No, no, this isn't good. Screw it," you shut the cupboard quite forcefully. "He's getting fed and sleeping when he gets back, I don't care how mad he gets."

With that, you swiftly left the room with plans and a grand scheme.

...

"You want me to do what???" Hux choked out after he spat out his tea in shock when I informed him of my plan.

"You don't have to pay for anything, I'll use my own credits, but I think he needs this." you said again. You showed Hux the list you made, as well as the already filled out request papers you had signed. He scrolled through the data pad, reviewing everything you had requested, brows furrowed in concern. "You sure about this, Y/n?" his grey green eyes looking back at yours. You nodded, not changing your mind. This had to be done. Hux sighed. "Fine. I'll have these sent. Everything should arrive before he returns."

You smiled and gave him a hug, earning a surprised "oh!" from him. "Thank you, Armitage!" you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Hux cleared his throat a little, trying to hide the blush that was making it's way onto his face. "Alright, alright, don't get used to it. I'm not in the business of granting everyone's requests. This is a one time deal, since you are paying for everything."

You chuckled and nodded. "Very well, General."

...

The mission had been brutal and Kylo was battered and bruised all over. But when he exited his ship, he walked with his masked head held high. His confident stride, however, held a bit of a slight limp. A shot from a blaster had grazed his calf, leaving him wounded. He tried to ignore the pain, but the could already feel that the bandage his leg was bound with was starting to leak, blood dampening his trousers. Exhausted, he made his way to his quarters, ordering a passing officer to send a medical droid to his room.

Unlike most who returned from battles, looking forward to whatever comfort they had, Kylo knew he had nothing to feel good about returning to. At least, comfort wise. He almost grimaced when he envisioned his baron room, knowing that rest and recovery was not an option. Or so he thought.

When the doors opened, his eyes widened beneath his mask. "What the-"

Kylo walked into the room, looking around in confusion. 'Did I walk into the wrong room?' he asked himself. He turned around for any telltale signs of his presence, and sure enough, there, to the left of the door, was a burnt gash where he had slashed his saber across the metal.

He turned back to the interior of the room, and stared at his new surroundings. The table was no longer empty, but had some bottles of sweet beverages and crisp water on top of it's smooth surface, and there was also a bowl filled with fruits. But that was not all. The tiny bed that Kylo once had, was now replaced with a lavish looking one. The frame appeared to be made from metal materials found and mined from Cantobight or somewhere from that planet's region. The bed posts were tall and had what appeared to be hooks on them, for holding/hanging articles of clothing. Kylo approached the bed and placed his hand on top of the black comforter that covered the bed. All his life, he never had anything quite as nice or comfortable. In fact, he felt he never deserved anything quite like this.

He took his mask off and placed it on the nightstand beside the bed. When he did, he saw a little piece of paper poking out from under one of the pillows. He reached over and pulled it out, recognizing your handwriting right away. As he read your little note, he felt a small smile spread across his weary face. When he was done reading it, he tucked it into his pocket.

That sleep rotation, after the droid had left and gave him the usual programmed "You need to rest" speech, he pulled back the covers, curled up, and for the first time in years, he slept, resting both his body and soul.

-End-

[orange-foxes]

The Minyard-Josten Rivalry

💥 Secrets and Honesty by fullyvisible (43k, series: Part 1 of 3)

Neil and Andrew aren't on the same professional teams, but that doesn't mean they're any less together. When a photograph gets taken out of context, they decide to go with it, as long as they're both having fun. And they are. Right?

💥 The Crooked Kind by youreyestheyglow (10k)

Neil went pro a year ago--and not on Andrew's team. The problem: they're private people, and when the press takes their declarations of hate at face value, Andrew and Neil find themselves unwilling to end the rumors.

💥 Minyard-Josten: A Rivalry For The Ages by dustbottle (4k)

After four years of playing together at Palmetto State University, Neil and Andrew end up on different professional teams. Neil is the new striker for the Atlanta Hawks; Andrew is goalie for the Boston Rebels. This is the story of their so-called rivalry. Three guesses as to who starts the rumours. (Spoilers: It’s Neil.)

💥 Captured moments by simplydevotedtoyou (9k, series: part 3 of 3)

Neil has finally made it to pros, joining the RedSock Lions in Chicago. Andrew however is with the Houston Hornets. When Andrew is asked about how he feels about seeing his ex team mate on an opposing team, he makes a comment which starts the supposed 'rivalry' between the ex team mates. What the majority of people don't know is that Neil and Andrew are in fact together and have been since college, well that is until someone releases photos of them which show that the whole rivalry wasn't 100% real. or Neil and Andrew are both too stubborn to let the other have the last word.

💥 The Truth Behind It by wematch (3k)

Neil finally makes a Twitter account the year after he leaves the Foxes. His PR has been nagging him about making a social media account since he joined the team but ultimately he uses it to annoy Andrew. Of course things escalate and the rumours of a rivalry between the two form, that is until Neil clarifies everything.

💥 Reputation by lemonicee (8k)

The rise and fall of the Minyard-Josten Rivalry. Usually when Neil starts shit in a post-game press interview, he does it on purpose. This time, he really just meant for it to be a joke. “How do you feel about the possibility of ending up on a team with a former Fox teammate?” is the next question. “Great,” Neil answers, sincere. “I would love to play with Matt or Kevin again.” “What about Minyard? Would you sign with Atlanta?” Neil says, “Andrew? He’s a nightmare.” He knows it’s a joke. His team knows it’s a joke. Andrew will know it’s a joke. The press does not seem to know that it’s a joke.

💥 Rivalry? by loverloverlover (3k)

"In their first pro-game against each other last year, Andrew had greeted him with a middle finger and his signature two-fingered salute. Neil had shot back a mockingly flirty wave, but no one else saw the affection behind their gestures—only the taunts." OR Andrew and Neil are on different professional Exy teams, and after being apart for months, their teams are finally playing each other. In true Neil Josten fashion, something goes wrong.

💥 Minyard vs Josten ;) by introvertedtiger (2k)

ever since Neil and Andrew had gone pro and started playing AGAINST each other, the media thought they hated each other. in reality they’ve been married for two years and Neil’s getting bored of the rivalry and is finally ready to change the name on his jersey.

💥 The societies we despise by This_Witch_Writes (5k)

Technically it all started because of two cats. Andrew’s phone number had been leaked and he was waiting on a new sim card. So when Neil saw the cats, one black and one ginger, play fighting beside the Chicago Bean, he had tweeted the picture to him instead of texting it. An innocent enough tweet on the surface, tagging Andrew and adding the caption “us”. To Neil, Andrew and their family, an obvious and even uncharacteristically sappy statement of long-held affection. To exy fans on the internet, a declaration of war.

[iwonderwh0]

You know what, I crave to try new things and so I wanna start a tag game

Tag 5 blogs and share your go-to recipe(s) you cook regularly that you think more people should try

You can type or link a recipe, use whatever way you prefer. Doesn't have to be a meal, could be a drink or a snack or something. No pressure to participate.

@tartrazeen @unlisshed @alcatrazoutpatient @justanotherhumblebagel @heyyjae @feltsticker @kishavo @nothinggathers @senorpugbean @verved @radibe5 (I'm tagging a whole lot of you, sorry) and feel free to participate everyone who sees this post and feels like it

I've already shared mine on multiple occasions (hi @tartrazeen) , but I'll do it again before I love dal and I can't really think of anything else to share (that's why I'm making it!)

Ingredients in the order of how they're added, orange ones are the ones I always add and consider essential, blue are optional. No precise measurements because I never measure it and just do how I feel like. This dish can be prepared in so many different variations you really can't get it wrong, it'll always end up delicious

Some oil or butter heated in a pot

Some cumin seeds added to the pot and heated

One diced onion. I usually have red ones but use whatever you prefer, whatever size you like. Fried until translucent before adding next ingredient

Garlic and/or ginger. Can be freshly diced/grated or can be premade paste. I add both in paste because it's convenient and easy

Chilli/Jalapeño peppers if you have any and like it spicy

A can of chickpeas (some variations of this dish don't have chickpeas in it but I always add them in mine)

Garam masala spice mix (I don't remember the exact content of what's in it)

Two-three diced tomatoes or a can of tomatoes of you're feeling lazy/don't have fresh tomatoes

Additional tomato paste/puree

Additional veggies if you want/need to use them. Pretty much anything will do, but I enjoy cauliflower the most, and if you make it more like a soup with more water in it, potatoes can be nice addition

Lentils (I use regular red ones + I add some moong dall chilka just because I can)

Water + bouillon cube (any) or just salt if not

(now just put a lid on and cook it until lentils are ready. Mix once in a while or add more water of it's getting too thick for your taste)

Greens like spinach or parsley if you have/want them

A can of coconut milk is optional but really nice addition + it can help if you accidentally made it too spicy

More greens (like parsley or coriander)

If you didn't use coconut milk, you can enjoy it with sour cream or some plain yogurt or without

I guess you can also add lemon/lime juice but tbh I've never done this

Enjoy!

[throughgoalsandbaskets]

A Demon's Guide to Anthropology

part: 3

Word count: 657

Tags: use of 'MC's and they/them pronouns, sensory sensitivity on MC's end, written to be seen as sensory processing disorder, written based on my experience with it but I tried to change it to be broader

Word: "sensory"

Beel's time to shine :], also this is genuinely such bad writing I'm sorry, gonna come back and edit this to be better some day lol

★• ——— –– -

Beelzebub is a lot more perceptive than people like to give him credit for. With brothers like his and being an athlete, he has to be in order to know what's going on.

Which is why it doesn't take him long to notice the way that MC shies away from a lot of foods, clothes, and objects. Completely random to the common eye, but Beelzebub is most concerned with the food issue.

It's not like MC doesn't eat, not at all, they're healthy and never skin out on a good, fresh meal, but they're always so odd with what they eat.

Meats are off the table most of the time, which isn't all that bad. A lot of people just don't like meat. But some drinks and a good few veggies and fruits added onto that is what confuses him.

Maybe MC was just a picky eater, which again is fine, Devildom foods are weird to get used to, but it also seemed prevalent in human foods, too. To Beel, it seemed completely random, from a few spicy foods to a few sweets and sours, in his eyes he couldn't find a common connection.

So with a breath, he knocked on MC's door and entered when he was allowed.

Beelzebub wasn't normally so nervous or anxious, but he knew human bodies were delicate and didn't want MC and their odd aversions to certain objects or foods to somehow leave a bad mark.

"MC," he began after entering and shutting the door. The human sat in their bed with their D.D.D. in hand, "I have a question."

Intruiged and curious as always, MC responds.

"What's up, Beel? Something wrong?"

"Are you okay?" MC blinks, a little caught off guard at the vague question. The giant demon stood above them, looking down and vaguely reminding the human of a large dog looking at a toy it was attached to.

"Uh- elaborate?"

"You don't eat some stuff and you don't touch some things."

To their credit, MC understood after a moment, and they tried not to seem rude by the way they gave a laugh and smile, shaking their head.

"Do you mean how I don't like touching certain fabrics or eating certain foods?" The ginger nodded at the question.

"That's kinda common for humans," MC explained, "It's called sensory sensitivity. Some textures feel really bad to touch or to eat, so I tend to avoid them. Nothing is wrong with me, I promise."

Beelzebub nodded in solemn understanding, sitting beside the mortal on the rather Plush and comfortable bedding. In his hands was a small box of cookies he knew they favored a lot that he'd taken with him. It took everything in Beelzebub's power not to tear the box open and have at the cookies himself.

"So you can't have some foods or wear some things because they feel weird?"

MC nodded, though they didn't seem very down about it. To them, it was simply another day like any other, knowledge as common as grass is green and Luke despises anything demonic.

To Beelzebub, though, it solidified his resolve as he passed the now opened box of cookies over, one in hand and another in his mouth.

"What food can you not have? I'll eat them for you."

The serious expression to the previous words caused another laugh to bubble out of MC, and they took their own cookie from the box.

"It's hard to explain, but I'll pass you any whenever they come with a meal I have. Deal?"

Beelzebub nodded and put a hand on MC's head (the demon struggled sometimes with such casual affection and touch with most people, but had recently picked up on simply resting a hand on the mortal's head and leaving it there for a minute), and after a few moments a comfortable silence and sharing cookies, he spoke once more.

"Hell's Kitchen?"

"Hell's Kitchen."

[iamthecomet]

#oh THAT'S a thought#Dew visiting Ifrit and Zephyr's pillars#telling them about his day#about the new ghouls

EXCUSE YOU??????

In relation to this post and the incredible art by @floating-goblin-art (let me know if you don't want to be tagged in this and I'll fix it ♥), and my subsequent tags. Sorry Mal, I have a lot of thoughts about it.

Maybe they're not actually in there. Maybe they are. Maybe they're just stone. Monuments. Like graves. Not actual ghouls encased in whatever salt. That would be better. But Dew, honestly doesn't know. He was broken when it happened. Irreparably he thought. Sometimes he still thinks so. Especially on days when he wakes with a migraine, or an ache so deep in his bones he is sure it will never leave.

They're hidden away in a back room in the Abbey basement. Behind a door no one ever keeps locked. Maybe as a reminder in case anyone stumbles on them--this is what happens if you fail.

Dew still doesn't know why he isn't one of them. How he and Mountain and Aether escaped this fate and Ifrit and Zephyr didn't. They were all summoned by the same papa, in the same few weeks. It doesn't make sense, and trying to figure it out just makes Dew's head pound. It doesn't matter anyway. What matters is that Ifrit and Zephyr are in this dark room with Alpha and Pebble, and the first air ghoul who must have had a name but Dew never learned it. They're with Omega. Dew tries not to look at Omega--his face drawn towards grief and horror. Dew doesn't like to think about what he must have seen. Instead, he sits on the floor at Ifrit and Zephyr's feet. They're together. Close. There is something like resignation on Zephyrs face, acceptance. Ifrit, on the other hand, is frozen mid yell.

Dew can barely stand to look at him.

The floor is cold beneath his legs as he settles in. He leans his head against Ifrit's leg. Cold and solid and foreign in a way that makes his chest catch. It never gets easier. He keeps doing it anyway. He imagines warmth. Conjures some of his own just to make it feel real. He thinks of Ifrit reaching down to pet his hair. Of Zephyr sitting next to him, carding bitter tears off of his face with their thumb. "They summoned new ghouls today," Dew starts. Voice thin and wavering. He opens his eyes but doesn't look up. He encases himself in memory. Pretends they can hear him--all of them. But especially these two. "They're ok. I guess. Nice enough. Got a multi-ghoul this time so that's something. He's pretty too--Ifrit would be all over him." Dew's heart aches.

"We're going on tour soon so I won't be back for a while. But I promise I'll tell you everything about it when I get home." Dew always runs out of things to say before he's ready to leave. He presses his face against Ifrit's stony knee, reaches a hand up to brush over Zephyr's fingers. He closes his eyes, breathes them in like he hopes he can still catch the faint smell of them. Ginger and Snow. All he smells is salt and ash. "Miss you."

[onyxsboxes]

Hi 🥰 for the fic backstory ask, I'd like to know more about god!Gale!! Where did that come from??? It's such a creative idea! ♥️

Thank you 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰, I can't tell you how much I love this au.

take a deep breath

It started a few weeks ago, when @alienoresimagines posted an incorrect quotes where Bucky used 'Oh my Buck' instead of 'Oh my God'.

It was at the same time as we were brainstorming about the bb/de-aged buckies au with Ali and with all the fluff and sweet little ideas we had came up with, my brain needed an outlet for more angsty idea.

After a few tags/comments, the idea was born and with time turned into a rabbit hole (god!Gale was the perfect outlet for a bit of angst)

And as Ali said: "something about how a god can only exist so long as people believe in him so Gale can only be Gale because John sees him and ahhhhhhhh"

A few HC about god!Gale

(Also tagging @alienoresimagines and @mirrsd because they were interested 🥰)

Gale is a minor god and his domain/representation is selflessness.

He has always been there for humans and living creatures, tending to them over time.

When the Others left the humans after deeming it safe enough to leave them alone, Gale stayed and continued to take care of them.

He has a very lonely and long existence, taking care of others without receiving anything in return.

Then one day, he meets Bucky and things start to change.

Bucky who gave him a new name: Buck. Gale has had many names over the years, but he cherishes 'Buck' more than any of them because it's the first thing Bucky ever gave him 🥰 (maybe Marge was the one to named him Gale 🤔)

All the little gifts Bucky gives Gale: the bike, the radio, his lucky deuce, a ginger beer, the scarf, ... turn out to be sacrifices that feed Gale

AND Bucky even bring believers to Gale because he talks about him all the time.

They don't realize it at first because Bucky doesn't know Gale is a god and Gale hasn't had an offering or sacrifice in years.

And Gale falls in love with him for it a little more every day.

Bucky is his first High Priest in centuries, or even the first (I haven't decided yet)

Because Gale's domain is selflessness, he can't grant better health, victories or wealth like other gods. He can only give parts of himself.

That's why he hasn't had many believers or priests over time, he can't give them much and so they didn't stay 🥺 (think a bit like The God of Arepo)

For an offering/sacrifice to “feed” Gale, it has to be done without expecting something else in return (it has to be selfless) and so few people actually (can) do it.

But all the little offerings/sacrifices Bucky has made for Gale (bike, ...) have allowed him to protect Bucky and keep him alive to a lesser extent. Gale can feel him in his domain.

(Bucky's faith is the most beautiful Gale has ever seen and he could stare at it for days)

(These hc came after I saw a gif of Bucky and Gale in the stalag and angst ensued ⬇)

In the stalag, Bucky doesn't want to be alive and, for the first time, Buck can't bring himself to represent his domain.

He can't let Bucky go, so he keeps asking him for little favors and Bucky is so out of it that he doesn't even realize that.

And since the sacrifices aren't given willingly (Buck asked Bucky to do it), Gale suffers from receiving them, they do Buck more harm than good. But it's also the only way he has to make sure Bucky's alive (this way, he can feel him through his domain). 😭😭😭

Buck cries himself to sleep every night because he can't save his high priest or let him go, and all he's doing is making Bucky suffer.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling about god!Gale 😅 now.

(Don't worry @mirrsd, I'm still trying to figure out a way to give them more time together so they're not separated by John's short lifespan 😉)

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

The Dutchess of Camden

Hobie wants to take Diane to her first punk show. And she has just the outfit. (a.k.a How Diane got her punk battlejacket - aka I saw this photo of Fran Fine and laughed so hard.)

DiscoPunk - DiscoSpider!Diane x Hobie Brown - PURE FLUFF. More fluff than a cappucino with extra foam. FLUFFY

Also this post was largely inspired by @spidey-bie and their post about Ansi & Hobie!!

______________________________________

Diane isn't punk.

With chiffon skirts and silk shirts and glittery nails and light up roller-wheels - if anything, she was the farthest thing from it. But that never stopped her, did it?

Without a doubt, she was still Hobie's #1 fan.

Hobie had only known Diane a couple of weeks - and it was only four months ago that he'd met her that in that darkened club, a Daiquiri on her lips and a joint at her fingertips.

And since then, the party hadn't stopped.

Hobie didn't have an explanation for it - but for some reason, Diane seemed to like him. If anything, she seemed to adore him. And that in itself wasn't a rarity -

She just wasn't afraid to show it.

Out of a room full of people, she'd be the one to approach him first. In a cafeteria full of tables, she was the one to ask if she could sit at his, just because 'y'all seem like you're having fun'.

And regardless of what anyone had to say about it, to Hobie - that only added to the appeal. Because Diane said it all the time -

'Closed mouths don't get fed - Ain't that right?'

Over the weeks, he'd gotten used to her face, front row at SpiderBand's every show. He'd gotten use to her laugh, and the way she'd smile every time he told a joke - no matter how unoriginal. How he could make her laugh without fail.

He'd gotten use to the way he felt when he knew she was there, safe somewhere nearby.

Like praying for someone to turn up to school that day, and then hearing that they did.

And did having her on his arm, his voice in her ear, an inside joke between the two of them - mean them anything?

Hobie didn't know. And he didn't care.

It didn't matter what Diane being at his side made her - as long as she wasn't going anywhere.

And so he'd bring her along for the ride, as long as she'd let him.

Hobie and Diane had known weeks, and she was never shy to invite herself, asking for permission to tag along any place that sounded funky enough for her to find it far out.

And he was never one to tell her 'No'.

But there was one place she'd yet to go - and that was 138.

"Oi, I'm taking you to a rock show tonight. It's in 138, so try to blend in, alright?"

"Of course!" she says. "I've been waiting for this! I have just the outfit."

And then she turns up in this.

Diane looks at him and goes "What'd I tell ya!"

She's so proud of herself. She thinks she's killing it. She brought that outfit the month she met him and she's been waiting for this moment.

She's like -

Hobie has to cover his face. Because if he looks at her - he's gonna start laughing. Cause what iN THE HELL-

Hobie looks at her like -

"Di, where'd you get that?"

She's like "Malala (Spider-UK). It's SO CUTE right. I look all posh!"

Hobie is like "You look like a Spice Girl. You look like Scary Spice and Ginger Spice had a baby."

Diane takes a moment to assess the situation. She reads his body language. And of course she's like "I feel very complimented but your tone of voice is saying otherwise, Hobart."

Cause what do you mean??? she absolutely understood the assignment!!!

Hobie takes a moment. He loves the enthusiasm, but still, he considers a way to break it to her softly, before telling her "Yo, me and my mates be setting that flag on fire-"

"Good cause it looks fire on ME."

And.. She's not lying. So what's the problem?!?

Hobie doesn't have one. And it'll be a frigid day in hell before he tells Diane to change - for any reason, clothes or otherwise.

He asks her if she'd dead set on wearing it, and she's goes "What- do you think the skirt is too tight to dance in? I can. Don't worry, I checked."

If she's going to have a good time, that's all he cares about. And Hobie just smiles, telling her if that's the case then the outfit is bloody perfect.

Because somehow Diane finding the most perfectly coordinated outfit regardless of crowd, vibe, occasion, or time of day, seemed so entirely her.

Not faking it for him in ripped fishnets or studded clothes. Turning up in her perfect black stockings and the most painfully British outfit she could find.

And it wasn't until she pointed to him, that he understood why. "I wanted to match - you know, your pin." she says, pressing a manicured nail to his lapel. "It's my favorite one."

To him, the outfit is perfect. Funny as hell, but perfect.

"Brilliant taste you have." "Couldn't you tell from my taste in boys?"

The whole 'blending in' thing went out the window. But the outfit is a hit.

People couldn't help but notice the 6 foot girl who wore stilettos and a Union Jack to the function. A regular in the circuit, Hobie couldn't help but stay by her side - watching amused as she looked around the shitty backalley venue like it was a palace.

It was so different from the discos.

Diane couldn't help but marvel at how 'Hobie' the world seemed. "You're still the coolest thing here, though." She tells him over and over.

Hobie makes sure to keep an arm over her shoulder, not out of possessiveness, but the fact that Diane was liable to drifting off, eyes dazzled at how cool and punk and textured and rough everything seemed, how vibrant people were.

And Hobie loved it.

He wants her to love it, to enjoy herself. To smile and laugh and go on and on about how funky everything was. "But like - in a you way."

He wanted her to have a good time, but Hobie knew eventually, someone would say something.

And it came with a laugh.

"Christ, that's gotta be the funniest thing I've seen tonight." A guy wearing red liberty spikes said, and Hobie recognized him as Ned, a guitarist in some straight edge band.

And the girl at his side, Betty, grinned as she laughed along.

And Hobie wondered if he should scare them off, or give Diane a chance to bite their heads off first. Until Betty said-

"Fuck. I wish I'd thought of that."

"Huh?" Diane asked pointedly, seemingly more annoyed at the distribution of her Hobie-induced haze than anything else.

"Ain't that a giant 'fuck you' to the fascists - a black chick wearing their 'heritage' like it's the new spring collection - I'd pay to see the first skinhead that had a butchers at you," Betty said and she was a black girl herself, hair in neat boxbraids. "They'd be fucking fuming."

Diane side-eyed Hobie for a translation, and Hobie smirked, leaning in closer to her ear. "That's a good thing," he assured her, voice teeming with pride as he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

Because pissing off skinheads was very much a compliment.

Diane raised her eyebrows, because she surely couldn't tell. But, if Hobie said it, she was willing to take his word on it.

"Thank you..?" She chuckled, a hand on Hobie's arm. "Sorry, I ain't that good at speaking British. Hobie usually translates for me - Thank God he speaks American or I'd be so lost -"

"And she's American - that's fucking hilarious. No wonder she doesn't give a fuck." Ned said, grinning, pointing to her top.

And finally, Diane looked down - as if she'd just noticed what they meant.

"The flag?" She questioned, pouting her lips in confusion. "Am I supposed to give a fuck about the flag?"

"You aren't." Betty said. "That's what's so punk about it."

Her face lit up. Diane didn't speak British, but that she understood.

And she had to turn her face into Hobie's shoulder to not squeal. They said her perfect outfit was punk!

They said she was Punk!

Hobie stiffled his laughter, pulling Diane closer as he reached up to ruffle her perfectly curled hair.

Diane bit back her euphoria as she composed herself, flattered beyond belief. And to the pair in front of her, Diane said -

"Why, thank you!" mimicking a curtsey, head bowed and knees bent.

The pair burst out laughing.

And then, they did the same, playing along.

"Pleasure is ours, Your Majesty.~" Betty snickered, nudging Ned to get him to play along, and the dark-skinned boy did the same. "And to whom do we owe the honor?" he asked.

"Diane." Hobie said, squeezing her at the waist for a moment, and before she could tell them otherwise, Hobie said. "Call her Dutchess, yeah?"

Betty held back a snort. "Dutchess - She the Dutchess of Camden then?"

"Brilliant, you two." Ned said. "Leave it to Hobie to find a cheeky one."

Diane was glowing in his arms.

"The Duchess of Camden." Hobie said, a smirk coming to his lips. He adored the sound of it. "That she is. A national treasure, this one." And he believed it.

Hobie couldn't help but drink in the joy on Diane's face.

The name was so prestigious sounding - glamourous even - and Diane had no idea what the hell a Dutchess was, but she damn sure knew what royalty meant.

But nothing could compare to Hobie's words.

She pressed her hands to her cheeks, drinking in the flattery. And when she looked at Hobie her eyes were elated, dazzled to share the moment with him.

"Oh my, What a Prince Charming!" Diane laughed, wrapping her arms around Hobie. Who knew people in his universe would be just as cool, as interesting, as kind?

Who knew that not caring or thinking about British culture at all - not trying to make a statement, or say much of anything at all, could be punk? Hobie didn't.

Somehow, though, Diane managed to work miracles.

"Well, Dutchess," Ned said. "I take it you and Prince Charming here fancy a cordial invitation to the pub after this?"

Diane's jaw nearly dropped. "A Pub, like a Tavern?" And she couldn't imagine anything more British than a tavern. "Like the kind that serves pints? Just say the word and I'll call my horse-drawn carriage!"

Dutchess rode carriages, right? Who else would?

Betty shook her head, a grin on her lips. "Enjoy the show, Your Highness." she said, lacing her fingers with Ned's before weaving them back into the crowd.

For a second, Diane didn't say anything - cheeks glowing with the smile she was fighting back. Hobie wished he could make her feel that way forever.

"Well Punk royalty, how do you feel?" he asked, his voice low enough just for her to hear.

"You know," Diane said, turning to look at him, and slowly she laced her arms around his neck. "With this dimension time travel stuff - it's like you're the Punk Doctor Who, and I'm your companion, right? You know that British show, Doctor Who? The watch is like our Tardis-"

"Diane," Hobie said. "Never change."

__________________________

Hobie didn't know what this made him, but he didn't care.

He'd take Diane any place she'd follow. Any place she'd follow, he'd want her there.

Even here, on the curb of a street somewhere in London. Outside of a 24-hour Chip Shop at 3am.

Diane had followed him to 138 - and in return he'd followed her to a punk show. And then to an afterparty, and then to a pub, and then another.

And more and more people came over, to laugh and talk, to invite her into the community. And bit by her bit, her 'perfect' outfit had gained color.

A pin passed on from a friend, a patch someone would pull off their jacket, fishing for bobby pins to pin it to hers. A clover patch to match his pin, an A sprawled across the front like The Scarlet Letter.

Hobie couldn't describe the way Diane looked at him every time, the way she squeezed his hand and didn't let go. But that didn't matter. He just wanted her to do it more and more.

By stop two, she was complaining about her feet. But come 20 minutes, without fail - there she was, hanging on his sleeve. Asking him to leave so they could go someplace more her speed, 'hipper to the groove'.

And he'd always say 'Yes'. There wasn't a moment of it that he regretted.

He'd follow her anywhere, because he knew she'd do the same. And now, sitting on the curb on some random street in East London, Diane had the beginnings of her own battle jacket.

And a backpatch to match his, with her own addition:

'Punk's Not Dead.' 'He's back at my place.'

Hobie popped open the box of takeout, steam escaping as he lifted the flaps on the fish & chips. Beside him, Diane rolled her eyes in ecstasy at just the smell of it, throwing her head back in excitement.

Needless to say, Diane was plastered.

"You spoil me." she squealed leaning in closer to gaze at the sacred food that sat in Hobie's lap, her arm looped with his as the smell of fresh battered fish rose from the box.

Hobie lifted up a bit of fish, holding it out to Diane. "You ever tried this? Can't say you've been to London until you have. Like going to New York and leaving without the pizza." he smirked, eager to see her reaction - that look in her eyes.

Diane leaned forward, taking a bite of the fish without even taking it from his hand - too drunk to care.

"I don't know if it's because I'm drunk, or because I'm with you - but British food is so good." she snickered, stealing a chip from the box.

Carefully, she sniffed it.

"It has vinegar." he told her, watching as Diane nodded seriously, before pointing the chip at the box. "And that?" she asked.

"Mushy peas."

"Mushed peas?" Diane said, part bewildered, but mostly disgusted. "Mushed peas - is that what you said?"

Hobie snickered. "You ain't gotta eat them. I'll eat them if you don't want to-"

"You're gonna eat them?!" Diane demanded, jaw agape. "I was just complimenting you're national cuisine and now you're offering me pea sludge?" she laughed, almost in disbelief.

"You ain't gotta eat the pea sludge, Dutchess. Dump it in the harbor if you wanna kick off. That's what you all do, yeah?"

Now Diane's expression turned to shock. "Don't compare me to a Bostoner! As a New Yorker, I take offense to that." she said, stealing another chip. "You don't see me calling you a Birmingham-nite or whatever."

"Brummie -" Hobie corrected. "Surprised you know about them."

"I don't." Diane assured him. "I just know they exist."

Hobie grinned, taking a bite of fish, as for once - London seemed quiet around them.

No loud music. No crowd, or laughter, no anything. Just them. And Hobie realized that this was the first time they'd been alone - since that night they'd met, four months ago.

And he still felt the same as he did back then - in the alleyway behind the club, bathed in neon lights.

He had slipped into her world to find her - and now here she was, slipping in to his. And here, now, with her post-show hair, and smudged red lips, and blurred eye-liner. In her spray-painted jacket, and a hangover around the corner - he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hobie -" Diane asked, eyes far away. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did." he snickered, simply because he knew it would get her attention. Diane grinned, even despite herself, and she shoved his shoulder.

But he could tell, whatever it was - she meant it. "Anything." he said.

"Why do you.. let me follow you around?" she asked, and even to her, the words felt clumsy, clouded by nerves and 4 pints of beer.

"I mean - Why do you put up with it?" she asked, voice barely at whisper. And for the first time, it was like she couldn't look at him. And yet he couldn't look away.

"With what everyone says. I mean - I know that you hear it. And..I'm not subtle about it. But you never complain. Or tell me to go away. I guess at a certain point, a part of me thought that maybe you just...didn't want to hurt my feelings, I guess."

Diane said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

"But then, you invited me here. And you've been so kind to me all night. Even though I'm just some chick who shows up to your shows. And, I don't know how to thank you, or why you do it." she said, voice barely a whisper.

"Because I know that you care. Cause I can tell you do." Hobie said. "And I can tell you don't want nothing of me. You aren't asking me for romance or anything. We can just be together. Wherever. And that's enough. More than enough." Hobie said, and to him, the answer came easy. Now that it was her who was asking.

And maybe that was it. "We're enough for each other."

And she was more than enough for him. More than enough for him to watch to keep her around, and then some.

Diane's expression softened, the lump in her throat growing. "Thank you," she said. "For never making me feel like I was annoying. Or like I wasn't worth your time."

For making her feel like she was enough, always.

"You are worth my time, Daiquiri." Hobie said, and he reached up to brush a stray curl from Diane's face. "Don't want you to ever think otherwise. I don't know why you do it - what I did to deserve it.

But it doesn't matter. I ain't letting you get rid of me now."

Beside him, Diane grinned, hanging her head in bashfulness.

"I'd kiss your cheek right now, if I didn't smell of fish and vinegar right now." she told him, and instead, so instead she pressed a kiss to her fingers, before smooshing it in his face.

Hobie snorted, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer. Pressing kisses to her forehead, even as she faked a grimace. Because he didn't care about fish or vinegar or anything else. Just her.

Diane laughed, shoving away from him just as Hobie asked "And what about you?"

"What about me?" "Why do you do it?" he asked. "I mean, could have any bloke on any Earth. But you choose me."

And he would never understand it, but he would always be grateful.

For a moment, Diane had to think about it - and Hobie wondered if she ever questioned it herself. Or if she just did what made her happy, and worried about any bridge when she came to it.

Diane shrugged a bit, stealing another chip as she thought, eyes lidded and voice quiet under the haze of alcohol.

"I dunno. You make me feel safe, I guess." She said, and maybe it was that simple. Because saying it felt right.

"I don't have to worry - about you laughing at me, or judging me, slutshaming me. You don't think I'm stupid, or annoying. I mean, you let me wear this outfit, you made me feel good about it. So I trust you."

Because she could tell he cared too.

Hobie grinned, leaning forward to brush his nose against hers, their own form of kiss. "And that's enough for you to treat me as good as you do?"

"I mean, we met when I was shitfaced drunk." Diane said, well aware she was probably shitfaced right now. "In a club, basically throwing myself at you - and you somehow got me home and into bed." And she snickered at the memory alone. "You even put my bonnet on me."

"You were there the first time I saw the Sun. Or a sunset. I guess I feel like if you're there, it'll be okay. Or like, super far out - groovy, psychedelic, absolutely dynamite!"

She laughed. "Like tonight. Thanks for tonight, Hobie."

"Anything for you, Dutchess." he told her.

"Look at you, treating me like Queen Eliza." "Elizabeth." "Does it matter?"

Did it matter what they were?

"Not at all."

Because they were enough.

_-_-_-_-_-_

"Are you actually going to eat the pea sludge?" "What, is that a crime, your highness?" "No, but it should be."

_____________________________________________

Hobie will keep Diane ignorant about British culture, if it's the last thing he does. He finds it really, really funny.

And that's the story of how Diane got her punk jacket, why Hobie calls her 'Dutchess', and why they stick with each other through everything. UUHHHH N-E-WAY I think this might be like my first DiscoPunk fic holymotherof!!!!! I LOVE THEM. I LOVE THEM. I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM. Let your OCs be loved. If you read this far thank you so much! It genuinely means a lot, so thank you for your time! In an act of gratitude here is Hobie

(thats them im gonna go cry)

[mania-sama]

Just want to say thanks so much for that post about you prefer Kevin/Neil over Neil/Andrew. Yes, I thought I was the only one. Agree with your answers about them, also not that I hate on Andrew but I don't see and feel the chemistry between him and Neil. FYI, I have said this to my AFTG moots once before and got blocked (that is why I never said it again until I found your blog).

And as fan of Haikyuu, don't you feel that Kevin/Neil kinda remind you of some other duo? Yes, Kageyama/Hinata. Wait, I know their personality is different but somehow their dynamic is kinda similar, right?

Sorry, if it's kinda random, but I got into AFTG because a friend of mine said, "You love Haikyuu, right? It's like that but with mafia and troubled kids" (worst advice ever, but I grew to love AFTG, too). And somehow, as I read them, I thought Neil will end up with Kevin if it's mlm story, and he end up with Andrew instead?

Oh yeah, can I ask what do you mean with "Andrew is the most unrealistic part of AFTG"?

Sorry for this long ask, thanks if you want to answer....

hey!! thanks so much for sending an ask! it was not too long; i love reading anything and everything people send me!

So sorry that people have blocked you over something as silly as a ship preference! I see where Andreil comes from; it has plenty of amazing and good qualities, and I'm happy with it being endgame! I just know, in my heart of hearts, that Kevneil should've been the one to cross the finish line. But that's just my opinion, and everyone is entitled to believe or think otherwise.

As far as comparing Hinata and Kageyama to Neil and Kevin, I'm of the opinion that their similarities start and end with their appearances. Outside of being singularly obsessed with one sport, I don't necessarily see the relation. Neil and Hinata are gingers and relatively short, and Kageyama is tall with dark hair. Their dynamics, to me, are different as well; Kageyama and Hinata both strive to get better together, but it isn't the trade-off and companionship that Kevin and Neil hold. Kevneil's dynamic is special in that it's very hard to find a reasonable comparison. They just have so much going on at all times. Kagehina, while a respectable pair, aren't as complex. They better each other even while at constant odds, and while you can say that is the relationship between Kevin and Neil, I feel that it is far too simple of an explanation, almost to the point that it's false.

Your friend isn't wrong to make the comparison. I've often thought this myself, honestly. It's got the same sport-focus while also being about mafia and troubled kids. I actually really like Haikyuu and think it's great; All for the Game essentially combines what I like about Haikyuu and everything I look for in Haikyuu fanfiction (that is, a focus on the individual characters and adding in insane trauma and lore for no reason at all). I personally think it's hilarious. It's one of the many reasons I'm very drawn to this series; it's like reading self-service fanfiction. I am a dead dove girlie at heart, what can I say?

... But on the same token, I have to talk about Andrew. While I don't disagree with my statement that Andrew is the most unrealistic part of AFTG (because he most certainly is), I will also say that this doesn't mean I dislike his character or don't find his story compelling. I do. I resonate with a lot of the ways he processes information, and I like how he represents that not everyone deals with trauma in socially acceptable or "presentable" ways. He's different, and that's okay.

However, here is where I come to a roadblock. I love the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag. I like to read when characters, in fanfiction, go through traumatic things. It's cathartic; it's a way for me to separate fiction from reality. I can experience these things without having to get emotionally involved. It's a curious phenomenon. But here's the other thing: I think it's something that should stay in fanfiction.

When you bring these serious topics into a published work, you have to treat it with the lens of professionalism. A video I watched semi-recently explains this very well while talking about the book A Little Life. The creator uses the term trauma porn to describe the general interest in visual works (books/tv shows/movies) where characters go through an unsubstantiated amount of trauma for the sake of... trauma. It's not there for any significant reason other than to be written. That's why it's so popular in fanfiction, and why I'm okay with indulging in it in that format. It's not serious. Fanfiction can be serious, but it's not serious in the same way that A Little Life is meant to be serious. A Little Life would be a perfect fanfiction, but as a published book, it is juvenile and worth very little in the world of trauma exploration.

This is how I feel about Andrew, and in some parts, Jean, in All for the Game. Andrew is raped about a gajillion times in this work. And for what? There is very little reason to keep making him endure this insanely traumatic experience, only for him to wind back in the same exact place he was before. It adds nothing to the story or his character. His original backstory works fine in the narrative: he is repeatedly traumatized as a youth, and this fundamentally changes who he becomes. That is fine. But then it happens off-book... again? To serve as a punishment to... Neil? Then he comes back like nothing happened. As if he was raped for nothing. Because, well, he was. Narratively, no repercussions occurred because of this action. Andrew didn't hold it against him. Neil still experienced the Nest regardless if Andrew did or didn't get raped. Then, it happens... again. This time on-book, and while we do get the satisfaction of seeing his original rapist murdered, it still does nothing. This encounter with his old abuser could have been worth a lot if there had been a proper set-up of conflict, but instead, the author chose to write a rape scene. Because that makes sense? Especially when the character bounces right back as if nothing happened. Because again, nothing narratively happened due to this scene. Aaron gets locked away for a while, and that's about it. It isn't even really a big deal, because they end up working through the details off-book. The team isn't severely impeded by this situation. Nothing happens. Do you see why this is a problem? It's very, very frustrating, and it makes a mockery of a very serious trauma. It is, point blank, trauma porn, and it has no right to be in a serious, published work. Even most fanfiction writers that do write trauma porn would've handled this with more grace and elegance than Nora did.

This alone wouldn't have made Andrew fully unrealistic. Now I want to talk about the issue of the drug he takes. He takes this made-up insanity pill that makes him loopy and goofy. Because of course it does. Even though there is no medical standing for a drug like this to even exist, nor would it medically make any sense at all to cause him to act this way. Furthermore, I am of the opinion that he didn't need to take them at all! Everyone in the book hyped up Andrew's natural state to be horrifying and unapproachable, only for the reveal to be... a stoic guy. I think that he was scarier on the drugs. He was honestly relaxed and seemed to be happier off the drugs despite everyone saying that he was crueler. In the narrative, he didn't even change. The drugs served only as an inhibitor to his playing in the first two books, and another way to make Andrew experience more trauma.

In short, Andrew, to me, is very clearly just a way for a female author to torture a gay male character. I said it, and I will not take it back. I wouldn't care if this was a fanfiction (I do it all the goddamn time), but it's not. It's a published book, and therefore must be reviewed with a critical eye. And she does a lot of this stuff again with Jean, only with a bit more care and finesse. Jean is far more believable than Andrew, and he still runs into many of the same problems that Andrew's character writing fatally experiences.

To quote you, sorry for the long response! I just had a lot to say. I love All for the Game. I honestly think it's a good book series that explores avenues of trauma responses with a fairly entertaining plot; no piece of media is perfect, and some of the greatest have serious problems with them that a lot of people choose to ignore. I love All for the Game despite its many flaws, and I am very excited for the next book of The Sunshine Court duology.