#i don’t have all the time in the world for these
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marvelsmostwanted · 3 days ago
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There are people – some in my own Party – who think that if you just give Donald Trump everything he wants, he’ll make an exception and spare you some of the harm. I’ll ignore the moral abdication of that position for just a second to say — almost none of those people have the experience with this President that I do. I once swallowed my pride to offer him what he values most — public praise on the Sunday news shows — in return for ventilators and N95 masks during the worst of the pandemic. We made a deal. And it turns out his promises were as broken as the BIPAP machines he sent us instead of ventilators. Going along to get along does not work – just ask the Trump-fearing red state Governors who are dealing with the same cuts that we are. I won’t be fooled twice.
I’ve been reflecting, these past four weeks, on two important parts of my life: my work helping to build the Illinois Holocaust Museum and the two times I’ve had the privilege of reciting the oath of office for Illinois Governor.
As some of you know, Skokie, Illinois once had one of the largest populations of Holocaust survivors anywhere in the world. In 1978, Nazis decided they wanted to march there.
The leaders of that march knew that the images of Swastika clad young men goose stepping down a peaceful suburban street would terrorize the local Jewish population – so many of whom had never recovered from their time in German concentration camps.
The prospect of that march sparked a legal fight that went all the way to the Supreme Court. It was a Jewish lawyer from the ACLU who argued the case for the Nazis – contending that even the most hateful of speech was protected under the first amendment.
As an American and a Jew, I find it difficult to resolve my feelings around that Supreme Court case – but I am grateful that the prospect of Nazis marching in their streets spurred the survivors and other Skokie residents to act. They joined together to form the Holocaust Memorial Foundation and built the first Illinois Holocaust Museum in a storefront in 1981 – a small but important forerunner to the one I helped build thirty years later.
I do not invoke the specter of Nazis lightly. But I know the history intimately — and have spent more time than probably anyone in this room with people who survived the Holocaust. Here’s what I’ve learned – the root that tears apart your house’s foundation begins as a seed – a seed of distrust and hate and blame.
The seed that grew into a dictatorship in Europe a lifetime ago didn’t arrive overnight. It started with everyday Germans mad about inflation and looking for someone to blame.
I’m watching with a foreboding dread what is happening in our country right now. A president who watches a plane go down in the Potomac – and suggests — without facts or findings — that a diversity hire is responsible for the crash. Or the Missouri Attorney General who just sued Starbucks – arguing that consumers pay higher prices for their coffee because the baristas are too “female” and “nonwhite.” The authoritarian playbook is laid bare here: They point to a group of people who don’t look like you and tell you to blame them for your problems.
I just have one question: What comes next? After we’ve discriminated against, deported or disparaged all the immigrants and the gay and lesbian and transgender people, the developmentally disabled, the women and the minorities – once we’ve ostracized our neighbors and betrayed our friends – After that, when the problems we started with are still there staring us in the face – what comes next.
All the atrocities of human history lurk in the answer to that question. And if we don’t want to repeat history – then for God’s sake in this moment we better be strong enough to learn from it.
I swore the following oath on Abraham Lincoln’s Bible: “I do solemnly swear that I will support the constitution of the United States, and the constitution of the state of Illinois, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of Governor .... according to the best of my ability.
My oath is to the Constitution of our state and of our country. We don’t have kings in America – and I don’t intend to bend the knee to one. I am not speaking up in service to my ambitions — but in deference to my obligations.
If you think I’m overreacting and sounding the alarm too soon, consider this:
It took the Nazis one month, three weeks, two days, eight hours and 40 minutes to dismantle a constitutional republic. All I’m saying is when the five-alarm fire starts to burn, every good person better be ready to man a post with a bucket of water if you want to stop it from raging out of control.
Those Illinois Nazis did end up holding their march in 1978 – just not in Skokie. After all the blowback from the case, they decided to march in Chicago instead. Only twenty of them showed up. But 2000 people came to counter protest. The Chicago Tribune reported that day that the “rally sputtered to an unspectacular end after ten minutes.” It was Illinoisans who smothered those embers before they could burn into a flame.
Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage. So gather your justice and humanity, Illinois, and do not let the “tragic spirit of despair” overcome us when our country needs us the most.
Sources:
• NBC Chicago & J.B. Pritzker, Democratic governor of Illinois, State of the State address 2025: Watch speech here | Full text
• Betches News on Instagram (screencaps)
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egophiliac · 3 days ago
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This is not really an ask, and I might be a big incoherent.
I just want to say I find it really funny that Ernesto/Fellow, in one of your Playful Land comics, acknowledged the fact that your Yuu just…has no face. I don’t remember anny other characters mentioning it.
I mean, this random guy(?)(gender-neutral) is just walking around with no face, and no one really seems to notice it. Like, they’re magicless, it is implied that they come from a world with no magic, but they can see with a face that has no eyes. Does anybody ask about it? No. They’re all like “Oh look, It’s Yuu, the prefect or Ramshackle” and carry on with their day. Hilarious.
now, let's be fair, this is NRC (and also a world in which Rook exists, as a real human being who's allowed to just walk around and be Like That, legally, somehow). their first meeting was Yuu busting out of a coffin screaming "WHERE AM I. ALSO WHO AM I" and then immediately getting set on fire by their cat. is it really any wonder that Fellow was the first person in a position to actually notice/be tactless about the, y'know, whole faceless thing. everyone was probably just like "wow, okay, rude" (or would have been if they weren't being actively transmogrified at the time, but it's the thought that counts).
(tangentially, one of Fellow's home screen lines is basically "I was pretty freaked out when I saw Ortho for the first time, but now I realize that this school is just absolutely buckwild all the time" and it's my favorite. this man is a lifelong criminal who's indirectly murdered dozens(?) of people and even he's like "something is deeply wrong with these people".)
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starpens · 1 day ago
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CRASH COURSE ノ xia caleb x female reader ៹ explicit content, unprotected sex, virginity loss, mentions of cheating (none actually happens), pet names (pipsqueak (sorry but i have to be accurate) gege, good girl), instructional sex, blowjobs, creampie, idk what this is i wrote it in 5 seconds i just needed an excuse to write caleb, not proofread :( ˓˓ WORD COUNT ᨀ 4.9k !
asking the boy you’ve known nearly your entire life to teach you how to have sex isn’t weird, right...? right?
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caleb has taught you a lot of things over the years.
he taught you how to drive a car in the shopping mall’s parking lot, how to cheat at card games, how to avoid burning the house down by letting him cook for you instead, how to sneak underneath the turnstiles on the subway to avoid fees.
he’s reliable and sturdy and a little reckless, but also patient and nonjudgmental— creating the idea in your idea that he’s kind of all-knowing, that whenever you don’t know something caleb does, that whenever you need help, you turn to no one else but him. which is precisely why you’re standing outside the door of his bedroom right now, hand lifted to knock on it.
because surely, asking caleb to teach you how to give a blowjob falls somewhere underneath that category too, right?
it’s one of those rare moments when the two of you are off work at the same time. caleb, on annual leave for the next two weeks and you, taking out a handful of unused vacation days to spend time with your favorite person in the world. it’s like old times again, when you can simply walk down the hall and hear his laugh drifting from underneath the door as he plays some stupid video game with college buddies.
thinking of the old days is exactly why you’re hesitating at the door. there’s too much shared history between the two of you, too much to lose if this goes badly, if you’ve been reading him wrong all along and he doesn’t want the same thing. there’s no way you can march in there and ask the boy you were raised with teach you how to—
“door’s open, pipsqueak,” caleb calls, somehow knowing you’re there because of course he does. you used to complain that he must’ve secretly implanted a tracker in your arm because he always knows your whereabouts, which made games like hide and seek with him impossible.
knowing it’s too late to play it off, you walk inside his room, greeted by his devastatingly gorgeous grin. “hey, you. lemme guess— the fridge is empty? no? lightbulb in your room need changing again? huh… or did you just miss me?”
“uh,” you mumble, shifting your toes in the soft carpet of the rug in the middle of his room. “not exactly. i was just wondering if you had time to talk and— … you’re not wearing a shirt.”
you realize how dumb you sound as you point it out, it’s just that your brain short-circuits, turning into a syrupy mess at the sight of caleb without a shirt on, his dog tags resting against bare skin. you’ve seen him like this before, of course— but not since he up and left, gallivanting off into the world to become a hotshot military pilot.
he’s always been nice to look at when you think he isn’t paying attention, but god he’s pretty. your eyes blink almost in disbelief as you take in his broad, muscular form that did not exist while he was a cadet in basic training. your gaze can’t help but snag on the ripple of his abs, or the thatch of brown hair trailing from his navel to disappear beneath his gray sweats. he swivels in his stupid gaming chair, smiling at you with his stupid face—
“uh, yeah?” caleb laughs, forehead creasing in confusion like you shouldn’t be surprised and really, you shouldn’t. caleb is like a furnace, blood running hot even in the middle of winter. “gran’s got the heat turned up to max again. it’s like she wants to kill me.”
“yeah, right,” you shake your head, laughing skittishly. “sorry. i’ve got a fan you can borrow, if you want.”
“thanks,” he says, magenta eyes dragging over your form suspiciously, taking in the way you’re standing in the middle of his room fidgeting like a leaf in the wind, hands white-knuckling the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, knees knocking together all nervous and cute. he frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to give you his full attention in that heart-stuttering way he often does.
“what’s with you? not that i’m not glad to see you, but… did something happen? did someone do something to you?”
“no, no— nothing like that,” you hurry to reassure, voice cracking on the last word as your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, trying to find the words to say what you need to without crashing and burning. swallowing around a lump in your throat, you glance at the paused screen of caleb’s game before blurting out—
“can you teach me how to give a blowjob?”
caleb immediately chokes.
a lesson on what not to do.
the overclocked fans on caleb’s gaming rig whirs in a soft hum, the neon lights in his room flickering crimson streaks over his handsome face in the dark. he wonders if it’s post traumatic stress or prolonged exposure to cosmic radiation in the sky forcing him to hallucinate. obviously, he’s got too many marbles in one jar and not enough in the other because there is no way he’s heard you correctly.
slowly, he removes his headset. “come again?”
“i’m awful at it, ge,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. in fact, you don’t know if you’re awful at it or not because you’ve never tried. you’ve been too busy waiting on the man in front of you to stop torturing you both, but caleb doesn’t need to know that. “you see, i’m dating this guy, right? and we’ve been hitting it off well. i can tell he wants to take it to the next level, but i’ve never… and you— you’re good at everything, so i just thought…”
“thought i would give you lessons,” he finishes for you, his voice deepening to a rougher edge that makes you shiver. “so you can suck your boyfriend better. do i have it right?”
“y-yeah…”
“since when do you even have a boyfriend? you didn’t tell me anything,” he says, doing nothing to mask the disappointment in his voice.
“uh, we’ve… been seeing each other for a couple of weeks?” you fumble, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “i didn’t want to say anything yet. in case it didn’t work out.”
“so you want to learn how to suck dick for a guy you’ve known for a couple of weeks?” he counters, a muscle in his jaw twitching. he’s got no right to feel jealousy, not when he’s wasted so much time attempting to be one thing in your life when you clearly wanted something else. he’s got no right, but the thought of you on your knees for someone else, someone that isn’t him, makes his blood boil enough that he already knows what his answer will be.
however, you’re already backing up towards the door, about to make a quick retreat. your plan was horrible, shame burning your skin like a brand. “what am i saying? oh my god, you’re right it’s stupid and wrong and gross. can we please just forget i even came in here—”
he lets you ramble for an excruciatingly long time, then he pushes out of his gaming chair and grins down at you like you just asked him to make a quick run to the convenience store. he stretches his arms above his head. “let’s do it.”
“w-what?”
you didn’t expect to get this far, honestly. you expected caleb to laugh at you, ruffle your hair, and call you ridiculous. but instead, he’s already striding to his door, thumb flicking the lock with a decisive click. when he turns, his expression makes your breath hitch— those unusual purple eyes molten, staring straight through you.
“first thing’s first, we need to lay down some ground rules, soldier,” caleb tells you playfully, stepping closer until your breasts brush against his midsection. his hand lifts, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “if you need to back out at any moment, you say so. no guy’s pleasure is worth your discomfort. and if i hear his name, whatever it is…” he pauses, eyes narrowing. “this stops. understood?”
you nod eagerly, fighting your smile as his scent envelopes you. he smells like spearmint gum, your shampoo that he’s been stealing since the two of you have been back at the house, and a hint of swear from the stifling air in the room.
“use your words, pipsqueak.”
“y-yeah, i get it.”
his smirk is all teeth. “good girl.”
caleb guides you over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. his big hands reach for you, circling your hips and pulling you towards him until you’re standing in between his spread thighs.
“alright, my little student,” he jokes. “you wanna get him all riled up before the main event so start with something small like… a kiss,” he murmurs, eyes lifting to glance at your mouth as his finger traces the hinge of your jaw. “you do know how to kiss, don’t you?”
“of course i know how to kiss,” you grumble.
caleb nods and then curls his hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you down to his level. you lean with the pressure, slotting your hands in the junction between his neck and shoulder, sliding them up until you cup the underside of his jaw. then, you’re kissing him— kissing caleb, the boy who used to patch up your scraped knees with cute band-aids, who let you crawl into his bed after nightmares, who pretends he hasn’t thought about kissing you, about making you his, for years.
the kiss is messy, desperate and hungry, decades of pent up feelings behind it. a string of saliva keeps your mouths linked together whenever you pull back for air and when caleb’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you whimper and part your lips to let him in, body melting against his front until your weight’s toppling him back onto his elbows, hitching your leg over his waist to crawl on top of him.
his grip on your waist tightens, gently pushing you to stand once more. “this is feeling less like a lesson, and more like you just wanting to do this with me,” he teases, making heat flare across your cheeks.
caleb guides your hand to the waistband of his sweatpants, the heat radiating through the fabric searing your palm. breath hitching, you begin to sink to the floor in front of him but his hand shoots out to stop your descent with a breathy laugh. “no no no, c’mere. you’re gonna hurt your knees down there.”
backing up, he moves until he’s lounging against the headboard, impossibly long legs stretched out on either side of your sweet figure.
“still wanna do this?” he asks, lifting a brow. when you nod, he continues to speak, voice gravelly, “take it out then.”
your fingers fumble with the drawstring a bit, struggling to undo the military knot caleb’s tied there, but you manage eventually. peeling back the waistband of his sweatpants to free his cock.
you should’ve known it would be just as pretty as the rest of him— it’s the biggest one (the only one) you’ve seen in person. he’s thicker than he is long, flushed dusky pink with veins that make your cunt clench with the desperate need to feel them dragging along your inner walls. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching you reach for it, nearly sobbing when your hand wraps around him.
“fuck—!” his hips jerk and stutter in shock, hand shoving yours away with a quickness. you frown and bite your lip, retracting your grip as if you’ve been burned.
“oh no,” you rush out, moving back to sit on top of your hands like a scolded kindergartener. “did i do something bad? did i hurt you, cal?”
caleb’s chest heaves, breath punching out of his lungs rapidly, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to slow the speed of his heart down. he’s dreamt about you touching him like this for ages, and the image of your dainty hand nervously wrapping around his cock will be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. you crawl back towards him slowly, seriously worried. “caleb?”
“i’m fine, pip,” he sucks in another breath, then opens his eyes to look at you. “didn’t mean to scare you. you didn’t do anything bad, you just surprised me. go ahead, touch me again.”
“if you’re sure,” you mumble, then hesitantly circle your fingers around caleb’s shaft again. he’s ready for it this time, hot against your palm when you give him an experimental squeeze, making caleb hiss through clenched teeth. “how’s that?”
“a bit tighter,” he instructs, palm closing over yours to adjust your grip. you squeeze him tight, and the hitch of his breath makes you squirm, stickiness gathering between your thighs at the sound. “don’t just squeeze, guys like it when you stroke. base to tip— no, don’t yank it like a fucking joystick, pip. god.”
his protest makes you burst out in giggles before caleb is shushing you with a severe look, his purple eyes narrowed. sucking your plump lower lip in between your teeth to keep from smiling, you nod at him with an exaggeratedly focused look.
“wet your palm,” he tells you, rolling his eyes at your wrinkled nose. “getting a handjob from a dry hand hurts, it’s like sandpaper.”
“are you saying i have dry hands, caleb? i moisturize daily, unlike you,” you whine out, but you listen to him anyway— you’re a good student, after all, and you don’t want to do anything that’ll make caleb want to stop. you lick your palm a few times, eyes on caleb the entire time.
the next time you touch him is with a spit-slicked grip, dragging your hand up and down his cock in an unexperienced, sloppy rub that should feel uncomfortable, but caleb eats it up— hips jerking involuntarily, pearls of watery precum already beginning to leak from the slit of his cock. your gaze is transfixed on it, a little greedy too, watching it stain your knuckles with each stroke.
it’s that same greediness that makes you lean down and brush your lips against the head of his cock, cherry tongue lolling out to tentatively taste the salt-bitter precum beading there. caleb’s hips immediately kick upward in a desperate twitch, but he forces them still, knuckles ashen where they reach down to grip the sheets.
“easy,” he rasps, voice fraying at the edges. his thumb strokes your cheek briefly. “just the tip first, okay? don’t go trying to swallow me down or anything.”
you do what he’s taught you so far; flatten your tongue, swirl it around the head— like that, fuck— press it hard against the thick, sensitive vein running along caleb’s underside, then repeat. every time, you’re rewarded with caleb brushing your hair back, murmuring soft praises, or your personal favorite— his deep, almost nasal groan, the hard planes of his abdomen flexing underneath the heady heat of your tongue.
it’s intoxicating, watching him fall apart like this— exactly what you wanted when you walked into his room. you want to pass his class with honors, please him even more, so you drop your mouth open a little more and suck him in deeper.
too deep.
the thick ridge of his head nudges against your uvula, tears springing to your eyes almost immediately. little startled chokes cough from your throat as you pull off caleb’s cock, bands of saliva stringing from his tip to your mouth in a way that should be gross, but you don’t care one bit, too busy trying to catch your breath.
“shh, shh— breathe,” caleb soothes, eyes darkening with something perilously close to reverence and pride. “through your nose, slowly. you can’t force it, that’s why you keep choking. when you’re ready, try again.”
you let caleb thumb away your tears like he’s done countless times before and when you’re ready, when you’ve had enough air to breathe, you let him guide you back onto his damp cock. eager, swollen lips bringing him in against your cheeks in a hot, branding suction that twists his insides up.
he’s supposed to be teaching you, showing you the ropes so you can please your stupid boyfriend, but you barely even need it— god, you’re so good at this without even trying. how can he focus on teaching when he’s got all of his focus pointed towards trying not to shoot his load down the back of your throat like some inconsiderate asshole?
he can barely look down at you because every time he does, your teary eyes glance up at him through thick lashes with an expression that begs for praise. he knows if you didn’t have a mouth stuffed full of his cock, you’d be asked am i doing it right, ge?
his thighs tremble, eyes lidded as you finally find a steady pace— mouth bobbing up and down, spit bubbling at the base of his cock where you’re starting to make a mess on him.
and when your hands dip down into his sweatpants, cupping his balls in your soft hand, caleb’s vision whites out, his climax rushing to the front at a rapid pace. before he can cum, though, he takes two fingers and pushes at your forehead, hauling you off his cock with a wet slurp. his chest heaves, dripping beads of sweat that glow azure in the haze of the neon lighting in his room.
he looks wrecked, and you fight your triumphant smile, schooling it into something unsure and pliant, batting your eyelashes. “did i… did i do it wrong?”
“fuck, no,” his chuckle is hoarse and ruined, calloused thumbs swiping spit from your chin as he gazes up at you meaningfully with those hooded eyes. “just don’t wanna cum down your throat.”
“o-oh.”
the implication makes arousal bubble low in your belly, thighs squeezing together in need. caleb tracks the movement, nostrils flaring as he grins knowingly. “yeah, you don’t want that either, do you, pipsqueak?”
for a while, the two of you just stare at each other in disbelief. you don’t know how to tell caleb that you’d take him in any form he’s offering himself in, pining after him long enough that it’s painful. nothing you ever did got his attention, not in the way you truly wanted. he’s protective and possessive in all the right ways, but he’d never make the first move.
he’ll never come out and admit that he wants to spread you out on his bed and fuck you dumb, mark you as his so nobody else can have you. it took you coming to him to even get this far, so you might as well take matters into your own hands once more.
“teach me the rest, ge?”
the rest.
caleb releases a pained groan at your words and you think he’s going to refuse you, but then he’s flipping your positions, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. he makes quick work of his sweatpants, shoving them down the rest of the way. then, he wrestles your panties off your hips and tosses them somewhere across the room.
“look at you,” he whispers, pushing your shirt up— his cock leaking a bead of precum at the sight of your pretty tits. he reaches forward, toying with your puffy nipples, grinning at the sound of your soft whimper.
“c-caleb.”
“you drive me fuckin’ crazy, you get that?” the confession comes out sounding suspiciously like a whine. he gazes down at you like you’re water and he’s a man lost deep in the desert, dying of thirst. “you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. look at these cute tits, just begging for me to touch them. and—”
his big hands sink into the fleshy part of your upper thighs, opening them to get his first exclusive look at your pussy. his thumb parts your folds, spreading one side apart to watch the way your entrance twitches. caleb dips one finger into your cunt and could fucking cry at how warm and tight you feel. “fuck, you’re so wet. is this all ’cause of me?”
“d-don’t look at it so shamelessly, you pervert,” you scold him, squirming back and forth in his hold as you try to snap your thighs shut. “stop teasing me or i’ll hit you. this is embarrassing!”
“why not?” he tilts his head, giving you that boyish grin that makes your heart stop. “after i’m done with you, it’ll be mine anyway. my pretty pussy. my girl.”
you huff and drive your fist into his shoulder before folding your arms over your breasts, lower lip stuck out in an unhappy pout. caleb winces, though mirth still shines amongst the nebulas in his eyes. he leans down to kiss your pout away, chuckling in amusement. “okay, okay, don’t hurt me. i’ll give you what you want.”
and then, he’s wrapping a hand around the base of himself, kissing your clit with the leaking tip of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. he coats himself in your wetness before he finally notches against your entrance and slowly pushes.
the pressure makes air stutter out of your chest, blunt and unyielding. he immediately notices your struggle and drops forward on his elbows, caging you safely in his embrace. he kisses the corners of your eyelids, licking away stray tears.
“i hate hurting you like this,” he whispers in your ear, hips drawing back and crawling forward again. you gasp, eyes falling shut, and he shushes you once more. slides a hand down to play with your clit to distract you, which only makes you clench up around him. his jaw is clenched tight enough to shatter the bone, hand fisted in the sheets next to your head. “shh— relax and let me in. it’ll feel good in a second.”
“i-i don’t know if i can,” you say, trying to force your body to accept him, but when he sinks in those first few inches, you whimper and dig your nails into his biceps. “y-you’re so big, ge.”
“f-fuck, don’t—” caleb grunts and his fingers grip the soft sides of your belly, holding your body to his like a lifeline. “don’t call me that right now. i might cum. i’m gonna put the rest in, okay? be a good girl for me and take it. i-i can’t wait any longer.”
he draws out and presses forward all the way in, burying himself to the hilt inside your sweet pussy. his gaze drops to where you’re split obscenely around him, cunt fluttering in protest at the stretch and a ragged groan tears from his throat. it takes every ounce of willpower the military beat into him not to cream himself right then and there.
“c-caleb!”
you whine as caleb retreats slightly, only to surge back in, fucking a little deeper this time. the weight of his cock stretching you out borders on cruel, but you would die before you ask him to stop, your walls squeezing him in a vice grip. it takes a few trials and errors (“keep your hips down, pipsqueak” and “i don't know, maybe a little to the l— fuck, right there oh my god”) but eventually, caleb builds up a good rhythm, the cool metal of his dog tags pooling in the valley of your breasts as he fucks you with deep, steady strokes; bottoming out each time with a guttural groan.
“fuck— stop clenching so much i’m gonna lose my mind,” his breath scalds your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as he fucks a little faster. “so fucking good. that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good. taking every inch of me like this.”
he’s right, it is so fucking good— no, it’s better. your nails scrape against caleb’s back. shivering at the hot pleasure singeing your nerve endings each time he fucks into you. it doesn’t take long for pressure to gather in your lower belly, a band waiting to snap.
you can’t help but wriggle a hand between the two of your bodies and circle a trembling middle finger around your swollen clit. “nngh, you feel so fucking good, cal.”
“a-are you- god, that’s so hot,” he grunts, glancing down at the way you’re toying with your clit and it turns him on so much he’s speeding up, cock pistoning in and out of you, his thrusts deepening until he’s nearly kissing your cervix, he’s in so deep, your thighs slamming against his hips as you try to close your legs when the head of his cock brushes right up against your sweet spot, creating starbursts behind your eyelids.
“oh god, cal— i-i can’t!”
caleb’s grin is feral, grinding deep to press into that swollen spot inside you relentlessly. “knew i’d find it,” then his fingers joining yours and it’s so much better than your own, two digits rubbing quick circles into your sensitive clit. you’re a babbling mess at this point, the pleasure too much to keep up with. “can you cum for me? can you let me feel it? please? i’ll never ask you for another thing if you give me one right here, right now.”
what are you supposed to do, deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried, not with the heat in your belly full to bursting, needing an escape.
“’m gonna c-cum for you, ge, just for you,” you sob.
caleb has seen many versions of you over the years— grumpy and pillow-marked in the morning with syrup stains on your shirt at the breakfast table, covered in sand and sun-kissed at the beach, screaming at him to do something about the jellyfish sting on your leg, in sleek black dresses at the military balls you attended as his plus one that made all his comrades stop and stare. but you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now. his dog tags between your breasts, your creamy pussy fluttering around his cock, and your pretty face twisted in pleasure as you’re about to cum for him.
he hopes that when he dies, he’ll go out with this image in his brain.
those big doe eyes of yours roll back into your head, hands frantically pushing at his abdomen as if he’s trying to escape the overwhelming friction of his cock. you cum hard, thighs trembling, vision winking out. wet droplets of tears stream down your cheeks as white heat washes over your body, the pleasure bleeding through your limbs like wildfire.
seeing you like this, what is caleb supposed to do? not follow you? he’s been holding his own orgasm back since you barged into his room in one of his shirts, begging to be taught how to suck a cock. there’s no way he can last through seeing— through feeling— you cum around him. his rhythm fractures almost immediately and he knows he’s on thin ice, fraying at the edges.
“gonna cum,” he grits out, voice mangled. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”
you don’t waste a second, babbling out the answer desperately, “i-inside, ge, cum inside me. give it to me please i want it so bad i’ll do anything!”
that’s all it takes.
one more sloppy thrust and he cums right after you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you still. he breathes choppy, ruined moans into your neck as he pumps his release deep inside your cunt before he collapses against you, damp chest heaving against yours, giving a few more weak thrusts of his hips as his climax ebbs.
you don’t know how long the two of you lay there, struggling to catch your breaths. you’re satisfied and pliant as putty underneath caleb, unable to move from his heavy embrace. he’s a wall of solid muscle, one that is pressing you into the mattress. “caleb, you’re heavy.”
“gimme a minute here, pipsqueak,” caleb chuckles breathlessly against your sweaty skin, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. “i just had the best sex of my life and can’t catch my breath.”
you begin to smile in pride, but then your eyes narrow as his words register through the fucked out haze clouding your brain. “wait, you were having sex before this?” you ask, jealousy bubbling up in your chest. “was it that one sergeant? the one who kept giving you lovey dovey eyes at the DAA gala?”
“mmm, nope,” he answers almost immediately, kissing your lips quickly to placate you, making your heart swell big and bright for the boy on top of you. “chill. saved myself all this time for you.”
your heart begins racing stupidly fast at that. “sap,” you tease, before an idea pops in your head and you reach for your phone tossed haphazardly on caleb’s bedside table.
caleb’s grip on you tightens as he notices you reach for it, a dark cloud shuttering his loving expression. “what are you doing?” he demands, the venom in his tone startling you a bit. “texting him already? that eager to try out what i just taught you?”
you frown in confusion until you remember the excuse you used upon coming into caleb’s room. wow, the boy you’re in love with is an idiot. giggling, you lean up and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before opening the camera on your phone and snapping a quick selfie of the two of you.
“no, you big dummy, i’m taking a pic of us losing our virginities together so i can add it to our photo album,” you explain simply, grinning. “and there was never any boyfriend, i made him up.”
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mywritersmind · 2 days ago
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WE’RE LIVE. - LN4
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summary : he tries to kiss you on camera, just some bits of you two at the f1 live event with cute couple vibes.
listen up : i kinda hate this. short but cute!
words : 730
⋆。‧˚⋆
“I’m reporting live from the first annual F1 launch event! I’m so excited to be interviewing and speaking to all of your favorite drivers and influences in the sport!” My smile is award winning, my posture straight, and my dress perfectly fitting my body.
I’m so distracted by Lewis Hamilton arriving that I don’t even see the bomb running up to me. I’m met with Lando Norris’ smiling face, coming straight for me.
He’s coming straight for a kiss I realize and dodge him immediately. His lips collide with my cheek as a small laugh breaks out of me, “Norris!” I eye him, his eyes a bit dimmer after my block, “We’re live!” My words slip out as his eyes widen.
In a second, his confused face turns to a masked smile, “And I'm so glad we are!” His eyes catch mine again, making me smile softly. He looks good, like really good.
In a suit, his shirt unbuttoned, and his hair perfectly curled, he looks like a disney prince. One that’s smiling at me in that slow easy way he does.
“You got questions for me, little miss reporter, or are you just gonna stare?” He’s such an idiot for saying that live, the media will eat him alive, but I'll kiss him until he can’t breathe so he’ll ignore it.
“I would say I'm surprised you’re here but we all know you love an opportunity to dress up.” I hold my microphone tight in my hand.
He tilts it towards him to answer, “Well, I heard you were gonna be here and had to look my best.” Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. It makes me smile anyway.
“Stop flirting with the reporter, Lando!” A voice calls out from the red carpet, we both turn to see Lando’s other half and his girlfriend.
Oscar Piastri is quiet, but never around us.
Lando tries to lean into me but I push him away gently, “You want me to ask you the real questions or would you like to greet your twin?”
He turns back to me, his hands in his pockets, “I’d like to keep talking to you.”
⋆༺
He finds me again in the hallway. I've been searching for the entrance after going to the restroom and getting completely lost.
“You look edible.” Is what the romantic and heartthrob, Lando Norris, says to me just as his hand meets my waist and he pulls me in.
“That is not earning you a kiss.” I put my hand on his chest as that same cheeky grin arrives.
He pulls me in a bit tighter, whispering in my ear, “You look fucking beautiful, Y/n. You always do.” That, earns him a kiss.
He pulls away which doesn’t happen often, “I can’t believe you dodged me earlier!” I laugh and push him away, walking ahead as I hear his dress shoes on the tile. “Can’t a guy kiss his girlfriend on live television?”
“Can’t a girl do her job and not get fired?” I look at him and am not at all surprised when I see his soft smile and stunning eyes shimmer.
“I love you.” He slips his hand into mine in such a soft and honest way that it makes me blush. “I love that you love your job and I love that you get to be here with me and I really love that dress on you.”
I roll my eyes at the last bit as if I don’t know he’s going to be the one taking it off of me tonight. “I love you too. Even if I have to be surrounded by orange every day of my life-”
He scoffs, “Hey! It’s-”
“If you say papaya I might slap you.”
“Can’t mess up my face before I go on stage love…” there’s a glint in his eye now, “But you can mark me all you’d like later.”
I kiss him again. Because we’re alone and because I truly love this complete fool of a man.
“Go change, Papaya man.” I drop his hand when I see the entrance, “But make sure to come home in that suit.” I wink as he raises a brow.
He doesn’t let me go until he kisses me one last time, just outside the doors to his whole world, and perfectly private for us.
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telephoniii · 3 days ago
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Do you accept requests? I really loved the Really him thing and was wondering if you could do that but him reacting to reader being in a polyamorous relationship with Malleus and Leona? Srry id u not comfortable with it. I thought id ask cuz there are like no poly fics
I’ve actually been debating whether or not to do requests. That and I was thinking about making a masterlist! If people really want to request stuff/have a masterlist then lmk and I’d be down to do it. My verdict rn is; if you have an idea, feel free to send it. 🤷
Also! It's not exactly polyamorous, but I've got a longer fic in the works abt Leona and Malleus being love rivals for the reader. So if that interests you than stay tuned!!
Anyways, lets get to the fun and whimsical stuff!
I’m not poly myself so I’m really sorry if anything is misrepresented. I did decide to add more than just Malleus and Leona since I thought it’d be fun! I hope you enjoy :>
REALLY…HIM? (Poly Addition)
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malleus and leona
Oh, you’re going to give this man a heart attack. Because what do you mean you’re dating the two most powerful yet reckless students of them all. Malleus and Leona? The two have a heated rivalry, do they not?!Do you have no concern for your safety?!?!The amount of sheer power these two hold together frighten this poor soul. He tells you to keep your distance if they start to fight. As a magicless student, you do NOT want to get involved if a duel were to break out. No, Trein wants you to RUN if that ever happens. Give him some time to get used to it. The sight of you next to Malleus and Leona in the hallways sends panic throughout his nervous system. After a month or so, Trein mellows out. He’ll start asking technical questions that you don’t have answers to. “If you were to marry them both, would all three of you be the rulers of Briars Valley?” ??? No clue, Professor. Can I get back to my test in peace now?
ace and deuce
He’s not surprised in the slightest. Trein always had an inkling that something was going on between you three. He just didn't want to believe it. Why? Because he doesn't like them. Well, scratch that. He doesn't like Ace. Is he supposed to jump for joy at the fact you’re dating the biggest slacker among all the first years? Trein has a habit of nit-picking them both and what they do. However, despite all the smack he talks, deep down he heavily approves of the relationship. He knows the two boys and doesn't doubt their loyalty to you. It's always been the three of you from the start and he views it as an unbreakable bond. So, even though he makes a face when you walk in with Deuce’s sports jacket and says you should take it off because it smells like sweat, he finds himself smiling when he spots you three sitting together at lunch just enjoying each others company. The way you all joke around and laugh together like you’re the only people in the world. He trusts them with your heart more than anyone else.
vil and rook
He actually thinks it's a pretty sweet relationship at first. You all balance each other out. Vil and Rook earned Trein’s seal of approval to date you from day one… and then Rook sends him a creepy letter thanking him for being supportive and— yep. Trein takes back that seal because what the hell. For the senders name on the letter, it was by both Rook and Vil, so Trein pulls both of them aside to talk about HIS boundaries. (He thought he didn't have to explicitly say, “Don’t stalk me before, during, or after school hours” but here we are) Vil is so confused the whole time. What could've possibly prompted this?? Then he remembers his boyfriend next to him who’s blissfully smiling and it all starts to make sense. With a sigh, Vil ends up apologizing to Trein for the whole ordeal and tells you about it as well. Rook gives you a kiss and promises to just watch Trein from afar. You don’t know how much better that is and it seems like Vil is thinking the same thing as he lets out a small groan. Trein is forever unnerved by your relationship— specifically because of Rook.
jamil and azul
Honey, are you being manipulated into this relationship? Which one of them is gaslighting you? Trein knows that they both have deceptive tendencies and is concerned. He’s not actively against it or anything, but he just keeps a close eye on the three of you. Jamil and Azul pick up on this and silently agree to each other that they want to prove themselves to Trein. Expect to get the ultimate royalty treatment everytime the Professor is around. One moment they’re playfully poking fun at you, the next they are cherishing the ground you walk on. (As they should) Unfortunately, it ends up having the opposite effect where Trein is even more suspicious and starts telling you to keep your distance from them. Jamil lets out a tired sigh an decides to do the mature thing by actually talking to Trein about their relationship with you. He drags Azul along with him and makes sure to keep him in check during the discussion. Jamil’s honesty takes Trein by surprise. Usually he wasn't one to make himself notable like that. Azul, reluctantly, ends up being honest about his feelings and relationship regarding you after Jamil. Afterward, Trein doesn’t say anything the next time he sees the three of you together. Instead, he just gives you a small nod and smile. Wow. Ultimate approval. Jamil and Azul high-five each other under the table.
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goldfades · 2 days ago
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could u write joe burrow and a young gf :3
ouuuu i lowkey love this!!! i forget joe is literally almost 30 sometimes cause he's been my baby since 2020 :(
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The thing about loving Joe Burrow is that it never quite feels real.
Not in the way people would assume—Oh my God, you’re dating Joe Burrow—but in the quieter, trickier ways. Like how surreal it is to be brushing your teeth while he’s flopped across the bed scrolling through film, mumbling something about coverages.
Or how it feels when his name echoes from TV screens and sports talk shows, but the same voice that commands huddles and stadiums turns soft when he asks, “You good, babe?” after long days.
It started somewhere simple. It always does.
Before all the noise, before the headlines, before the whispers about her being too young or him settling down so soon. You were just you, balancing college classes and internships, while he was—well, Joe Burrow. Quarterback. Face of a franchise. The golden boy with ice in his veins and Ohio stitched into his heart.
The age thing? People love to talk.
"She's barely legal," Twitter said. "He's almost thirty—what could they possibly have in common?"
But nobody saw late nights where he quizzed you for exams between reps of watching film. No one heard him tease you about your Starbucks order or watched the way his whole face softened when you walked into a room.
You weren’t high school sweethearts or some college love story. You met after his star had already risen. He was 26 then, fresh off another playoff run. You were 20, still figuring out your major and how to parallel park. It wasn’t supposed to be anything. But somehow, between weekend flights to Cincinnati, cheap takeout, and late-night phone calls that stretched till sunrise, it became everything.
Now?
Now, he’s 28. And you’re counting down the weeks until your 22nd birthday.
It’s different now. The stakes are higher. His window is now, and yours is still unfolding. People don’t get that. They think he should be with someone who has it all figured out. Someone closer to his stage in life. But Joe? Joe never seemed interested in the version of you that had all the answers.
He likes you exactly as you are.
And maybe that’s what makes this all so dangerous. Because you love him like you have all the time in the world. But what if you don’t?
What if time, distance, and expectations catch up?
The thing about loving Joe Burrow is that it never feels real.
And maybe that’s what scares you the most.
It started in the most unremarkable way, which, in hindsight, made it all the more impossible.
You weren’t supposed to be there that night.
It was late spring—warm air clinging to skin, cicadas humming like background noise. A friend dragged you out, promising “something low-key” that turned out to be anything but. A rooftop bar downtown, lights strung across beams, music low enough for conversation but loud enough to fill silences. The kind of place where everyone seemed to know someone.
You felt out of place almost immediately—twenty, still figuring things out, surrounded by people who seemed to have their lives together. People with jobs, plans, confidence. You clutched your drink like a lifeline, nodding along to conversations you weren’t part of.
And then—him.
Joe Burrow.
You knew of him, obviously. Everyone did. The city’s golden boy. LSU’s champion turned Cincinnati’s hope. The one with the calm stare and colder game. But seeing him there, in a soft gray hoodie and jeans that looked too casual for someone like him, was jarring.
He wasn’t surrounded by a crowd like you expected. No loud entourage, no flashy bravado. Just him, leaning against the railing, a glass of something in his hand, looking out at the skyline like he wasn’t the biggest deal in the room.
You tried not to stare. Failed miserably.
And he caught you.
But here’s the thing—you looked away first. You didn’t smile or wave or give him that Oh my God, it’s Joe Burrow look he was probably used to. You just turned back to your group, back to your half-finished drink, back to your uncomfortable corner.
But he noticed.
It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Just a glance. A flicker of interest, easily forgotten. But when you shifted places an hour later, needing air and space, there he was—somehow always there. Close enough to talk to, if you were brave enough.
You weren’t.
He was.
"Not your scene?"
His voice caught you off guard—low, almost shy. He wasn’t cocky about it, didn’t lead with who he was. Just a simple question. You glanced over, squinting against the fading light.
"Not really," you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yours?"
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Not really."
And that was it. A conversation that began with mutual disinterest in the place you both stood.
No cheesy pickup lines. No starstruck reactions. Just two people, sharing a quiet pocket of space in a loud world.
It started slow after that.
Joe wasn’t the type to rush things. He didn’t blow up your phone the next day. There were no grand gestures. Just texts that came at odd hours—memes, random thoughts, “this reminded me of you” photos. Late-night conversations that started light and ended heavy.
"What do you wanna do after school?" "Not sure yet. Still figuring it out." "That’s cool. You got time."
And he meant it.
He liked listening. That was the first thing you noticed. Everyone assumed he’d be the one with stories to tell, but Joe preferred hearing yours. He wanted to know about your classes, your friends, your opinions on movies you half-watched.
He didn’t treat you like you were younger. He didn’t make you feel like you had something to prove.
And maybe that’s why you fell for him first.
Not that you said it. Not for a while.
You didn’t know it, but Joe liked that you didn’t treat him like Joe Burrow. You talked to him like he was just a guy—messy, complicated, figuring things out. And he wanted that.
For months, things stayed undefined. Texts. Calls. Occasional meetups when he was in the neighborhood. You told yourself it wasn’t serious. Couldn’t be. He had an NFL career; you had classes and part-time jobs.
But then came that night.
It was after a tough loss—one of those games where the city buzzed with disappointment. You shot him a simple text: “Tough one. Hope you’re good.”
Didn’t expect a reply. But he did.
"Come over?"
It wasn’t a question. And when you showed up, hair still damp from a rushed shower, no makeup, heart racing—he looked at you like you were the best thing he’d seen all week.
"You’re here," he said softly, like he didn’t quite believe it.
"Of course I am."
That night, there were no cameras, no expectations. Just Joe—quiet, vulnerable—and you, sitting beside him on a worn-out couch.
He kissed you first.
Soft, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he should. Like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.
You never wanted to.
So how have you lasted this long?
Patience.
It wasn’t always easy. The age gap made things complicated. He was settling into his prime years—face of a franchise, pressure mounting. You were still growing, still becoming.
But Joe never expected you to catch up. He let you take your time. He liked that you weren’t rushing.
You learned his rhythms—when he needed space, when he needed reassurance. He learned your moods—when you were overwhelmed, when you needed grounding.
You made room for each other.
Not because it was easy. But because it mattered.
And somehow, almost two years later, here you still are.
Joe’s turning 28. You’re on the edge of 22.
Everyone still talks. But neither of you have ever cared much about what they say.
--
The apartment was quiet in that late-afternoon, honey-gold kind of way. The kind of light that stretched long shadows across hardwood floors and made everything feel softer, slower. The game was on mute—highlights from last week’s win looping on ESPN—while you sat cross-legged on the couch, flipping through your laptop.
Joe was in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing a faded Ohio State tee and gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was still damp from a shower, curling slightly at the edges. He moved with that same unhurried calm he always had off the field, focused on slicing up an apple with alarming precision for someone who could launch a 60-yard pass without blinking.
"You want some?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"No thanks," you mumbled, eyes still on the screen.
"Liar," he said, grinning. "You’re gonna steal a piece anyway."
He wasn’t wrong.
Joe crossed the room, dropping onto the couch beside you with a quiet oof. The plate balanced on his knee, and sure enough, when he popped a slice into his mouth, he held another out for you without looking.
"Told you," he muttered around a bite.
"Whatever," you said, accepting it anyway.
This was what you two were like—easy.
No big gestures or loud declarations. Just knowing. He knew you’d take the apple slice even when you said you wouldn’t. You knew he’d watch you more than the TV. The spaces between you were always filled with things left unsaid but understood.
"Whatcha working on?" he asked after a moment, nodding toward your laptop.
"Paper. Boring. You wouldn’t care."
"I always care," he said, leaning back. His arm stretched along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder lightly. "Tell me."
You gave him a look, skeptical.
"You literally fell asleep last time I explained this class to you."
"Nah," he grinned, slow and lazy. "Just resting my eyes. You were doing great."
"Uh-huh."
Joe bumped your knee with his. "Tell me."
So you did. Stumbling through half-formed thoughts about your topic, tapping at the trackpad, rambling. You knew you were probably losing him—this wasn’t exactly thrilling stuff—but Joe kept his gaze steady on you. Not nodding along just to be polite. Actually listening.
That’s what always got you. He listened.
Even when he didn’t get it, even when he was tired or distracted—he paid attention because it was you.
When you finally trailed off with a shrug, mumbling, "See? Boring," Joe shook his head.
"Nah," he said. "You sound smart when you talk about stuff you like."
You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed.
"I always sound smart," you shot back.
"Yeah," he said, grinning wider. "But especially when you’re like this. Focused. All serious."
He reached over, tugging gently at the sleeve of your sweatshirt. "Cute, too."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
You shoved him, and he laughed, warm and low, catching your wrist with a loose grip. Not tight—never tight—just enough to pull you closer until you were half in his lap.
"Say it again," you teased, narrowing your eyes. "Say I sound smart."
Joe’s eyes sparkled with something playful, something soft.
"You sound smart," he murmured, voice dropping.
His thumb brushed slow circles against the inside of your wrist. His gaze flicked down to your mouth, then back up.
"And cute," he added, softer this time.
Your breath hitched, and suddenly the space between you wasn’t so wide anymore.
Joe always did that—brought things back to the quiet. He had this way of looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. Like all the noise—fans, games, expectations—didn’t matter. Just you.
"You gonna kiss me or keep talking?" you whispered.
He didn’t smile this time. Just leaned in, closing the gap, slow and sure.
The kiss wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t some movie-scene, fireworks kind of thing. It was steady. Familiar. Warm. The kind of kiss that said, I know you. I’ve got you.
When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. Neither of you said anything for a beat.
Then—
"Told you I’d make you forget about that boring paper."
"You’re the worst."
"Mm. But you love me."
"Unfortunately."
He grinned. "Lucky me."
And that was it. That was you two.
Not always perfect. Not always poetic. But steady.
Because at the end of the day, loving Joe Burrow wasn’t about the headlines or the spotlight. It was this—apples shared on a quiet afternoon, lazy kisses between conversations, and the unshakable certainty that when the world got loud again, you’d both still be right here.
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ari-ana-bel-la · 2 days ago
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Heyy Babes Can you please write Dad!Lewis where he loves to spoil his baby and someone questions him about it in an interview or smth like that. Thank youu
Spoiling her rotten
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The paddock was buzzing with energy as the drivers gathered around, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation before qualifying. The Ferrari garage was unusually lively today, and it wasn't because of strategy discussions or mechanics making last-minute adjustments. No, the source of the excitement was a tiny, giggling little girl currently waiting in the Ferrari hospitality with her grandparents.
Three-year-old Yn, Lewis’ daughter, was a little bundle of energy, and everyone who had met her agreed on one thing—she was the most spoiled child in the world. But no one really minded. How could they? The sight of Lewis, the seven-time world champion, carrying around his daughter like she was the most precious thing in existence was something no one could resist smiling at.
“He spoils her so much,” Max muttered, shaking his head fondly as they all stood near the Ferrari garage, chatting before the session.
“I think it’s adorable,” Carlos admitted, taking a sip from his water bottle. “She’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.”
“You mean the most spoiled?” Lando chimed in. “Have you seen the way he looks at her? If she asked for the moon, I think he’d find a way to get it for her.”
Lewis, who had just approached the group, rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the proud smile on his face. “Of course, I spoil my princess. She deserves it.”
The teasing only increased at his statement, with George dramatically placing a hand on his heart. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Charles, who had been quietly listening, chuckled. “I think it’s nice. She’s only three. It’s good that she has a dad who loves her that much.”
Lewis shot Charles a grateful look before turning his attention back to the rest of the group. “You guys just don’t get it. When you have a little one who looks at you like you’re their whole world, you just want to give them everything.”
Before anyone could respond, a small voice called out, cutting through the noise of the paddock. “Daddy!”
The drivers all turned to see Yn running full speed toward them, her tiny legs moving as fast as they could. Her little Ferrari team shirt looked oversized on her small frame, and her curly hair bounced with each step. But what stood out the most was the stuffed pink bunny she was clutching tightly in her arms.
Lewis crouched down just in time to catch her as she jumped into his arms. He lifted her effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “There’s my princess. Did you have fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”
Yn nodded eagerly before holding out the bunny for everyone to see. “Look! Daddy got me a bunny!”
The drivers all leaned in to admire the toy, but it was Charles who gave the biggest reaction. He gasped dramatically, eyes wide as he gently touched the bunny’s floppy ear. “Wow! That is the cutest bunny I’ve ever seen.”
Yn beamed, clearly pleased with his reaction. “It’s soft!” She pressed the bunny to her cheek before holding it out to Charles. “Feel it!”
Charles obediently ran a hand over the stuffed animal. “Oh, it’s very soft. What’s its name?”
Yn scrunched her nose in thought before shrugging. “Bunny.”
The drivers burst into laughter at her simple but effective choice of name. “A very good name,” Charles approved, nodding seriously.
Lewis kissed the top of her head. “See? I told you Bunny was a great choice.”
Yn giggled before resting her head on Lewis’ shoulder, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Lando, ever the instigator, smirked. “Okay, but let’s be honest, honey—how many stuffed animals do you already have at home?”
Yn lifted her head, thinking hard before holding up four fingers. “This many.”
Lewis sighed. “She has way more than that.”
George grinned. “And yet, you keep buying more.”
Lewis huffed. “Like I said, she deserves it.” He bounced Yn slightly in his arms, making her giggle again. “I’ll spoil her as much as I want.”
Charles shook his head with a small smile, watching the interaction fondly. “I think it’s sweet.”
Yn turned her bright eyes on Charles again. “Do you have a bunny?”
Charles chuckled. “No, but I think I need one now.”
Yn gasped. “You can get one! Daddy will buy you one!”
The group exploded into laughter at her confidence, and Lewis playfully poked her side. “I spoil you, not the other drivers.”
Yn pouted before reaching for Charles’ hand. “I share Bunny with you.”
Charles placed one hand over his heart, the other one on hers. “I’m honored.”
Yn grinned, clearly pleased with herself before snuggling back into Lewis’ arms. The drivers continued to joke and tease, but there was an undeniable warmth in the group. No one doubted for a second that Lewis’ little princess was the most loved child in the paddock.
And if Lewis wanted to spoil her forever, no one would stop him.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey, loves. I hope you enjoy this story. My requests are always open and I'm more than happy to write your story.
-💙🦋
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beloveds-embrace · 11 hours ago
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(poly 141 x recluse reader)
I wrote this in a rush sorry yall 😔
The wind howled through the valley, carrying flurries of ice that bit at your skin as you trudged through the knee-deep snow. This high up in the mountains, winter never truly loosened its grip. It had been a quiet season, with little to disturb the peace of your secluded home.
Until tonight, that is.
You first saw the blood, stark against the pristine white. Then the trail- a jagged, uneven path of someone desperate and wounded.
And then him.
A man, half-buried in the snow, shivering and barely conscious. His beard was flecked with frost, tactical gear dark with blood. You crouched beside him, pressing two fingers to his throat. His pulse was weak but steady.
A survivor.
It wasn’t the first time the wilderness had delivered a lost soul to your doorstep, but at least it wasn’t a dead one. With a sigh, you hoisted his near-dead weight onto your back and carried him home.
It took a week and a half before he finally woke up, time in which you spent tending to him and his injuries.
John awoke to the smell of burning wood and the distant sound of a knife slicing through something firm. His head was still heavy with fever, but the warmth wrapped around him was unlike anything he had felt in what seemed like weeks.
He shifted, and immediately, a voice cut through the quiet.
“Don’t.”
His eyes flickered open.
You stood over a table, back turned to him, methodically cutting strips of dried venison. You didn’t look at him, but your tone was firm, yet still kind.
“You’re not strong enough to get up.”
John blinked, sluggishly taking in his surroundings. The cabin was small but sturdy, the stone fireplace crackling with warmth. Fur-lined blankets weighed down his aching body. He had been stripped of his heavy gear, left in a thick knit sweater that was definitely not his. It smelled faintly of vanilla.
He tried to sit up anyway. As a result, sharp pain lanced through his ribs, and he bit back a curse.
“See?” you said dryly, finally turning to look at him fully. “Told you.”
John exhaled roughly, running a hand over his face. “Where- ?”
“Somewhere safe.”
That was all you offered.
John studied you in the firelight, his tactical mind still sluggish but observant. You weren’t military- your clothes were practical, but not issued. You moved with practiced efficiency, your cabin well-kept, stocked with supplies only someone used to self-sufficiency would have.
A recluse.
He had met people like you before. Ones who chose to live outside the world. And your cabin reminded him of an emergency hut that belonged to Nikolai, though yours was definitely far more lived in.
But what struck him was the quiet steadiness in which you handled him. Not fearful. Not overly kind. Just… there.
And that, more than anything, settled something deep in his bones. Warm and deep- and far better than the fever plaguing him at the moment.
Said fever that when broke, the first thing he asked for was his team.
You hesitated, watching him from where you stirred a pot over the fire.
“Did they know where you were?” you asked.
John exhaled through his nose. “They knew we were in the mountains. We got separated when the things went sideways.” His jaw clenched. “They’ll be looking.”
You nodded once. “Then they’ll find you- I have a flare gun that can be used.”
And true to your words, they did.
It started with footprints. You noticed them even before John did, your senses tuned to the quiet of the land.
Then the feeling. A weight in the air. Something watching, watching, watching- until they decided you were not a threat.
John was already moving- slower than he would have liked, but determined. He stepped onto the porch, breath misting in the cold. His sharp eyes scanned the tree line.
Then-
“Price!”
A flash of movement.
The first one to break from the trees was- as he-d later introduce himself- Soap. He moved fast, determined, boots crunching through the snow.
Price barely had time to brace himself before the Scot barreled into him, gripping his shoulders in an almost bruising hold.
“Steamin’ Jesus, Cap,” Soap breathed, eyes scanning over him, searching for injuries. “You- bloody hell- we thought-“
The others emerged next, more controlled but no less frantic. Gaz exhaled sharply, tension visibly draining from his shoulders. Ghost had an unmistakable tightness in his jaw as he stopped beside them.
(Strange military callsigns, you’ll think to yourself later).
Price huffed, patting Soap’s arm. “I’m alright, Johnny.”
Soap didn’t look convinced. Neither did the others, and that’s when their attention finally shifted- to you, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching the reunion silently.
The weight of their collective scrutiny settled heavily, and John noticed the way their stances changed- protective, defensive. And then, realization.
It wasn’t just that they had found him. It was where they had found him. With you.
“You took care of him.” Gaz finally said.
It wasn’t quite a question.
You met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “He was half-dead on my doorstep.” A pause, to give them just enough time to understand that you weren’t a threat. “Seemed wasteful to let him die.”
A muscle in Ghost’s jaw twitched. Soap was still looking at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle, and then coming up empty-handed when he realized there were lost pieces.
Then John chuckled, low and warm, and that shifted the tension. “She’s got a point.”
Their Captain was alive. That was what mattered.
For now.
You thought they would leave, truthfully.
You had done your part; John was healed. He had his pack again. The logical thing would be for them to disappear back into whatever world they had come from, far away from your life of safe, quiet solitude. The snow would cover their footprints and their presence eventually.
But they didn’t.
At first, it was excuses. John still needed time to fully recover. The blizzard made travel dangerous. They needed a place to regroup fully.
Then, it was something else.
John started reinforcing your cabin’s defenses- setting up more tripwires than the ones they’d ruined in their pursuit of finding John, repositioning the perimeter to make it more secure. “Just in case, lass. Ya can never be too sure.” He’d said with a grin.
Gaz took to handling supply runs. He was always attentive, always watching. He learned your habits, how you did your things, quicker than you expected, somehow always anticipating what you might need before you asked.
Ghost was quieter, but his presence was constant. He lingered. Observed. You often caught his gaze on you, sharp and unreadable beneath his mask. And then he’d silently picked up the duty of hunting.
And John acted like he had always been here.
He had an ease about him that made it hard to argue. He helped where it was needed, spoke when he had something worth saying, and settled into your space like he belonged. And simultaneously had such command about him that you’d find yourself tongue-tied when you’d truly attempt to argue and kick them out.
It was unsettling.
Because you knew what this was; they weren’t just staying.
They were claiming- even if they’d have to leave for their military job, eventually. Claiming your time, your space, your presence.
You saw it in the way they positioned themselves- between you and the outside world. The way their sharp gazes tracked any movement that wasn’t theirs. The way they subtly adjusted to your routines, not forcing their presence, but weaving into your life as if it was inevitable.
You weren’t stupid. You knew how wolves like them worked.
John was the leader. Their Captain. And where he went, the others followed.
And now, they had set their sights on you.
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bywons · 1 day ago
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WHAT'S MINE 𖥔 YJW
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─────𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬, 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇
【 𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑 】 。 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 & 𝖿!𝗋 760w 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ━━━━ 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 ❛ 愛 ❜
스루 ܃ a quick jungwon drabble cause we love him sm ^_^ !!!
reb𝑙ogs ꪆৎ 𝑓eedbacks 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾
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jungwon has been quiet ever since you both left the party.
all the way from the party to your home, he hasn't uttered a single word, just stealing quiet glances at you. his hand resting lightly against the small of your back as he walked beside you. his silence wasn’t cold, but thoughtful—heavy with something unspoken. his fingers occasionally flexed, as if restraining the urge to hold you tighter.
when you reach your apartment, he follows you inside, shutting the door behind him with a slow, deliberate motion. His eyes lingers on you, dark and unreadable, but the tension in his posture is unmistakable.
a soft sigh leaves your mouth, as you lean against the wall, “are you still thinking about that guy, ‘won?”
jungwon’s lips press into a thin line before he exhales through his nose, stepping closer, “thinking about him? not at all,” he murmurs, his voice smoother now with a teasing undertone, he smirks, “i always only think about you, princess.”
you cross your arms, as if it will cover up for your beating heart. “that guy was just being friendly, jungwon.”
jungwon’s muscles visibly flex under his black shirt as he grits his jaw. his brows lift slightly, amusement flickering across his face, yet a distinct sharpness behind it. “really, what is that? i think he was clearly trying to cross boundaries,” he tilts his head, taking a step closer to you, “did you like it?”
you breathe hitches from the intensity of his gaze and the drunken loveliness of his eyes, “jungwon—”
he is swift enough to cut you short in your incoherent sentence, by placing his hands on either side of your head against the walls. and that’s when you realise your back has met the cold wall.
he isn’t angry or jealous, not exactly. but there is a quiet intensity in the way he looks at you, like he needs to remind you—remind himself—that this thing between you is real, raw, undeniable. jungwon knew the consequences of having a pretty girlfriend, of course boys were going to hit on her and flirt with her, trying to steal you away. but he didn’t mind any of it, his confidence in your loyalty stayed strong.
although tonight was different. the way that guy invaded your proximity ticked a radar off in yang jungwon— until he couldn’t take it anymore.
you’re only his to touch.
“hmm?” he hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing past your cheeks, “jungwon what?”
“you don’t have to be jealous, you know,” you sigh, your breath hitching once again.
jungwon finally leans in, until his cologne hits stronger in the air, mingled with his hot breath falling over your neck.
his fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your chin up with a touch so gentle it sends a shiver down your spine. “i know you,” he murmurs, voice low, intimate. “you weren’t interested in him. but still, seeing someone else act like they could have you?” his thumb traces the corner of your lip, lingering, before his fingers slid lower, ghosting over your pulse. “i didn’t like that.”
your lips part slightly, and that’s all it takes.
jungwon immediately leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was unhurried and intense. it isn’t rough or rushed—just deep, deliberate. his hands find your waist, fingers spread over the fabric of your shirt before slipping beneath, palms warm against your skin. he kisses you like he has all the time in the world, savoring, making sure you feel every bit of his presence, his need.
you melt into him, fingers sliding into his hair, and the quiet sigh you let out had him pressing closer, his body molding against yours. he deepens the kiss, his lips brushing against yours in a way that sends warmth pooling in your stomach. when he pulls back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, he lets out a soft chuckle, his breath warm against your skin.
“i don’t have to be jealous,” he whispers, eyes never leaving yours, “i already know you’re mine.”
your chest rose and fell with the weight of his words, his touch. “you sound so sure.”
his smile is slow, confident. “i don’t have to sound sure.” his lips ghost over yours again, teasing, coaxing. “i just know.”
he giggles into another kiss as your hand flies to cup his cheeks, well you back, you squeeze them together, cooing, “jealousy does look cute on you, love.”
and now it was time for him to be flustered.
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zyafics · 2 days ago
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GIRL OF THE SEA | Rafe Cameron
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MASTERLIST (Blurb)
Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader
Summary — After leaving the Island Club, Rafe hadn't expected to find a mermaid on the beach.
Word Count — 1.0K
Content — fluff, mentions of nakedness.
Dedication — to @erwinsvow whom I talked about this concept months ago, and to The Little Mermaid (2023) movie that's currently playing at the corner of my screen as I write this.
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Rafe hadn’t expect to find you.
Half-past eleven, he was leaving the Island Club and found intrigue in the distance. A glimmer against the harsh currents, banging against the coastline. He hadn’t given it much thought—until it looked like the sea was glowing like stardusts had fallen into the ocean.
Drunk, he trekked down the valleys of the beach, slipped against the coarse sand, and made his way to the shoreline. He hadn’t expected much—perhaps it was a mirage, a trick of his sight—but what he found was completely out of his realm of predictions.
It was you.
Naked.
Your legs stretched across the wet sand, your body bare of any fabric, saved for seashells covering your breasts. Your hair was damp, freshly pulled from the ocean, and your fingers traced the skin of your thighs, mesmerized, as if you had never seen such a thing.
Because you hadn’t.
You were a mermaid, sworn to keep away from the surface world, to stay off humans. But you were fascinated—you saw the Island Club’s fireworks, the twinkles in the sky, and the bare beach, voided of humans, voided of predators, that you just wanted a taste for it yourself.
Somehow, you pulled to the coast, dragged your tail against the sand, pulled your weight till it found dry land. Afterward, with permission of a secret potion, you digested the ingredients and shifted into legs. Human legs. You gasped at the fascination of it being attached to your own, that they were yours to control.
Rafe followed the trail. He saw the thick tail outlined against the sodden sand, before being transformed into a pair of legs. It looked odd, but he wasn’t going to assume mermaids; he always thought they were a myth, a folktale.
He just thought you were crazy.
“Hello?” Rafe asks with a slur of his words, blinking in surprise at your lack of modesty. You look up, eyes twinkling, and a smile curves at your lips. You don’t have a sense of danger, a sense of fear for the humans everyone warned you about.
Instead, you were intrigued, your eyes trailing down the length of Rafe’s body, the way he held the bottle of beer in his hands. You don’t have that back in the ocean.
“Legs,” you point at him, and for a second, Rafe grows self-conscious.
“What?” He gapes.
“You have legs,” you repeat, a grin broadening your face with childlike wonder. Your fingers shifts, pointing at yourself. “Me too! Isn’t it wonderful?”
Rafe assumes you’re high. That you’ve taken something from the Pogues, and you’re here, in the middle of the beach, alone, naked, with no consideration other than the fact that you had legs. Whatever you took, he wants a taste of it himself.
But it’s also odd. Because you didn’t look intoxicated. Your eyes are a little wild, but that’s from enthusiasm, from curiosity, not from narcotics. They’re clear, they’re wide, and they’re wrinkled with this spark of joy Rafe had never seen in a human before.
“Yeah,” Rafe drawls slowly, “Yeah, they’re good.”
You beam, your hands propping your upper body on the sand as you attempt to pull yourself up. On the first try, you fell miserably, landing harshly against the coarse grains, and an oomph leaves your throat. Rafe winces at the sight, at the pain you must endure, but all you do is laugh.
You’re laughing because you never done this before.
You try again, but your knees buckle under your weight. Gravity, it seems, is against you. But you’re resilient. You pull yourself up, several times if necessary, so you can finally use the opportunity to walk on land as you always dreamed of.
You fall again.
“Alright, alright,” Rafe steps forward, and wraps his arm around your waist, helping to your feet. “Come on, Bambi, it ain’t that hard,” he says in a light tone, and you smile.
“It’s new,” you confess in a soft, sirened whisper.
“Yeah?” He asks, turning to you, your face centimeters from his. The glow of your expression is enchanting, like all the right proportions, all the right features that Rafe had always seen in a woman. It steals his breath away. “This your first time walkin’?”
You grin, “Isn’t it amazing?”
“Yeah, yeah, amazing,” he shakes his head, holding you upright, as you slowly find your footing. Your feet touch the sand, and it sinks under your weight, grains trickling between your toes. Toes, things you’ve never had before, and you wiggle them. Oh, it feels glorious.
“Good?” Rafe asks, recognizing now that it’s not going to be easy helping you out of this beach. He isn’t sure if you’re not drunk, if you’re not doped up, but he is sure that there’s absolutely no way you’re in the right state of mind to tell him which direction is your home.
He has to take you back to Tannyhill.
But he can’t if you’re completely naked, hidden modesty behind two shells that look like they were strung together from a costume.
He has to help.
He doesn’t know why he wants to.
Shrugging off his jacket, Rafe steadily lets you go to cover you up. Thankfully, the jacket falls mid-thigh, covering up the essentials so that you won’t get arrested for public indecency.
You feel the weight of the fabrics on your shoulders, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. It’s a luxury to receive items like these, to cover yourself up, and it’s only done in the case of mating.
You turn to him, loose strands of hair falling over your face, delicately dancing over your eyes, in a way that makes you have this innocence, natural beauty. “Where I come from, this is considered a marriage proposal,” you declare, using your arms to wrap around his bicep, using Rafe as a walking crunch.
The corner of his mouth lifts, amused. “Yeah?”
You nod. “Yes.”
“Let’s get you covered up first, and we can talk about that later.”
You nod, agreeing, and as you plant a small kiss on his cheek, Rafe pulls you inland, across his beach, to his car, and back to Tannyhill.
He’ll figure out everything later.
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internet-sentences · 2 days ago
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I have this cursed sword that I formed a contract with that lives by my side and whispers to me and I like it, because I like cursed swords generally, and because I think we have a good contract, which is essentially that I get to do whatever I want at all times and it gets to hang out at my side. It gets to listen in, and whisper advice, and have an owner, or maybe a host, which is very important to a cursed sword. It gets to be the first line of defense when things get nasty, if I let it, which I largely don’t because I honestly do not have that many problems requiring a cursed sword. I mostly tell my cursed sword to sing me to sleep and it does, happily. It says everything is going to be just fine. Sleep, sweetie. I’ve seen terrible things, and I can tell you that nothing bad is happening. Everything bad in the world is a lie intended to distract you from the truth, which is that the world is beautiful, and life is beautiful, as long as you focus on yourself and don’t care too much what happens to other people. I tell my friends I love my cursed sword, I think it’s a pretty good one as far as they go, but I don’t really believe anything that it says. I think my cursed sword is ideologically compromised. My friends say uhh, yeah.
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chaekii · 2 days ago
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ACCiDENTALLY YOURS
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. . . SCENE ─── close enough to touch , too late to pretend it's nothing.
bestfriend!ni-ki & fem!reader 𓂃 Fluff , slice of life ✶ skinship , kissing , mutual pining
Like & reblog !
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The first time it happens, you don’t even process it. Like it doesn’t even register in your brain at first bc why would it???
You’re on Ni-ki’s couch, half-buried under a shared blanket, a half-eaten bag of popcorn in your lap. Some movie is playing—something he picked, so obviously, he’s really into it, while you just sit there pretending to care. But the thing is. He’s close. Like, weirdly close.
His knee keeps bumping against yours, and normally, okay, whatever. But he doesn’t move away. Not even a little. Then he reaches for the popcorn and just… leaves his arm there. Right against yours. Warm and solid and so, so there.
And okay. Fine. Maybe you’re overthinking it. Maybe you’re just hyper-aware bc it’s late and you’re sleep-deprived and Ni-ki is Ni-ki. But the second time? Yeah, no. That one you definitely notice.
Bc it’s 2AM now, and somehow, at some point, you both ended up on the floor. There’s pillows and blankets everywhere, and Ni-ki’s stretched out on his side, way too comfy for someone who’s literally lying on the ground. And the worst part? His head is right there. Like, right next to yours.
You blink. Try to ignore it. But then—
“You’re warm,” he mumbles, and before you can even begin to unpack that, he just leans in and rests his head on your shoulder. Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Your brain just fully malfunctions. Like. You actually forget how to breathe for a sec.
“Uh—”
“You smell nice.”
“Ni-ki, what are you doing??” You try to sound normal, but your voice comes out all wobbly and embarrassing.
He just hums, shifting a little, nose barely brushing against your collarbone before he sighs. “i dont know. Just feels nice.”
You should push him off. Say something. Tease him. Anything. But you don’t. You just sit there, your body betraying you by leaning into it, his warmth sinking into your skin like it belongs there.
And the third time? Yeah. You don’t even have the chance to question it.
Bc you wake up with his arm around your waist. His face tucked into the back of your neck. His entire body curled around yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe… maybe it is.
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Text
It continues to get worse
Goon#2: I’m so sorry boss! I didn’t know they were a teenager when I sold to them!
Red hood, sighing: atp im not even angry anymore
Goon#3:thank goodness!
Red Hood: I’m just dissapointed. I thought after all these years…
Goon#2: OH GOD THATS WORSE BOSS! EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!
Red Hood: Do better
The goons: Yes, sir!
*after Red Hood leaves*
Goon#1: the dad levels are so strong!!!!
-
Some child: *in danger and scared*
Jason, seeing his child self in the kid (canon btw): hey, hey it’s okay *acts like what his kid self needed because the levels of projection and need for therapy are so strong on this one*
Goon#5: his dad insticts… they’re kicking in…
-
Red hood, walking in to see his ‘organization’ messed up: What are you doing?!?
Goon#3, whose desperatly trying to fix it: uhhhh
Goon#5: Goon 3 tripped over your copy of pride and prejudice while carrying stuff
Goon#3: I’ll kill you
Goon#5: :P
Red Hood: *distraughtly trying to find his book*
Goon#1: Heres your book boss! Saved it while everyone was panicking
Jason, who was borrowing it from Alfred because they do book swaps: your my favorite goon now
Goon#1: *victory dance as all the other goons glare*
-
Batman: I am-
Red Hood: not supposed to be in crime alley
Batman, giving big kicked puppy (???) vibes: the kids want to see you at dinner :( Agent A requested it
Red Hood: the ‘kids’ ruined my case
Batman: Agent A made cookies
Red Hood: …
Red hood: yeah okay i’ll wrap up and go home
Vengence in the night, the scourage of the villain, Batman: *pleased vibes*
Goon#6, already texting the gc: Red Hood dadded the BATMAN!!
Goon#2, replying: Can’t believe Red Hood was so mad he almost missed Dinner with his Kids…
Oracle, who can hack gcs and thinks this is hysterical: im about to do something really funny *discreetly sends more evidence of Red Hood being ‘Batman’s Dad’*
-
*Red Hood, about to order something when the tiniest Robin bursts into the warehouse during the middle of the day*
Red Hood, frantic: what are you doing here?!? It’s a school day!!! (Jason loves school)
Robin: tch… it was dumb anyways… just some dumb kids… they don’t even know how to fight
Red Hood: Do you want me to text B or cover for you?
Robin: … I do not want to go back right now
Red Hood: okay, okay… why don’t we go back to my apartment and drink some vegan hot chocolate
Robin: i’d like that
(Jason, in his head: man im a great big brother- i remember when dick would take me out during school hours)
Goon#4: Oh my god, how many kids does this guy have?!?
Goon#5: who even gave birth to that many?!?
Goon#3: maybe theyre adopted?
Goon#4: no thats stupid they all have the same black hair and blue eyed features
Goon#5: …
Goon#3: you can’t think like that about our boss!
Goon#5: I didn’t say anything
Goon#3: I could hear your thoughts
Goon#4: I thought metas werent allowed in gotham?
Goon#3: no thats just a rumor- wait i meant metaphorically
Goon#5: …
Goon#4: …
Goon#3: can’t believe all of you misunderstood my one sentence I bet boss never went through people horribly misconstruing him!
-
Red hood: *visibly tired that morning*
Goon#4: Rough Night?
Red Hood: nah, just my uh… family broke into my apartment to watch movies last night because I ‘missed movie night’
Goon#5: *nods sagely* children amirite?
Red Hood: *snorts* they definitely act like children
-
*Black Bat kicks Red Hood in the face*
Red Hood, writhing in agony on the floor: ow owww what was that forrr
Goon#1, sympathetically patting his back: daughters, amirite?
Jason, thinking about Lady Shiva: I guess?
-
Goon#2: Boss!!!
Red Hood: ?
Goon#2: I… joined a knitting club some time back after you told me to quit being high and get a hobby… and uh…
Goon#2: *shoves a knit scarf that says ‘worlds okayest Boss’ but the B looks a bit messy like it was supposed to be a D but the B was hastily changed later from somethinng starting with D(ad) to Boss* okaythatsitbye *runs away*
Red Hood: what was that all about???
Red Hood, staring at the scarf and tearing up: I’m so glad I’m having a good effect on the community
The goon squad, from afar: *wiping tears as they watch Red Hood’s reaction*
-
Red Hood: *sighs* so I’m experimenting with different recipes to surprise my uhhh greatest inspiration (alfred)
The goons: *listening intently*
Red Hood: And I have extras.
Goon squad: *cheering*
Red Hood, embarrassed: shut up or I’m giving them all to the alley kids and not you!
Goon squad: *rush to grab it*
Goon#2: oooh i love the peppermint one! Very christmassy
Red Hood: *snorts at christmasussy like the immature 19 year old his is that no one pays heed to*
Goon#3: Is there coffee in this one?
Red Hood: just to bring out the chocolate flavor- one of the robi- uh younger ones is addicted to coffee and I’m not trying to give him an avenue
Goon#1: You’re so responsible boss!
Red Hood: *shocked and happy as this is the first time anyones ever called post mortem Jason responsible*
-
*finally at the reveal*
Red Hood: I have… something to show you *takes off his helmet*
goons: *open staring*
goon#5: wow you look… young for your age!
goon#4: drop the skin care routine
Jason, in his head: wow they must mean the six months I was in the ground for I didn’t realize it was that obvious!
Jason, out loud: Lazarus water
Goon#3, been hired for some weird stuff before: *gasps* no wonder old men are so obsessed with it!
Jason: *snorts*
Will Jason ever realize his goons think hes some kind of immortal old aged man with a great skin care routine (goon#5)/vampire (goon#2) /wereworlf (goon#3) / cryptid old man (goon#1) /gotham pollution gone well (goon#4 who got booed out)
find out next time in- what do you mean i dont get to make a show out of Red Hood goons?!?
Imagine in the beginning, before Red Hood's goons figure out that he is a baby, they think he is a single dad of a bunch of kids, instead. And it is not like they are wrong, since he does parent all kids of Crime Alley, but they mean not them. They mean Bats, instead.
No one is sure how old Red Hood is. But they saw a single white streak of the hair once, so he is... old, right? And these Batkids, they always hang around him, whining and asking for something - surely, it is his kids? Right? That gotta be it.
Red Hood: Now, back to- Sorry, I need to take a call. Goons: Sure, sir. Red Hood: What... Oh my god, Red. What do you mean, you don't know how to wash the carpet without- Spoiled brat. Okay, listen to me, you first need to get a really hot water... Goons: That's definitely his son being in troubles.
(It was Tim, who accidentally ruined Alfred's favourite carpet. He was in big troubles that day.)
Robin, appearing on the doorstep of Red Hood's den: Scram. I am here to see Hood. Goons, staring at little Damian: Hm-m. Red Hood, pushing them away: Bad day? (Damian wordlessly raising his arms to be picked up by Jason) Okay. It is fine. Goons: Hm-m-M.
Nightwing, whining: You are so boring. Why don't you want to play Twister with us this Sunday? Red Hood, rolling his eyes: Shut up. Goons, overhearing the conversation: Kids, am I right? Red Hood: Huh?
Goons, watching Batman and Red Hood shouting on each other on the rooftop: Hey, do we think Batman is also his kid?.. Goons: (thoughtful pause) Red Hood, completely pissed off by his dad in the meanwhile: I am TIRED of you. Go back to your stupid ass CAVE and think about your behaviour. I don't want to see you AGAIN. Batman: But- Red Hood: OUT OF MY TURF. NOW!!! Goons, staring at Batman, who walks away sulkily: ...HM-M.
Red Hood, staring at the "Best Dad" merch, given him by his goons on his birthday: I am confused. Do they mean kids from Alley, or they view themselves as my kids... What does it mean? Uh. Whatever. It is kinda sweet. Red Hood, on the next day: Thanks, guys. Very thoughtful of you! Goons, high-fiving each other: Sure, boss!
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just1cefor4ll · 2 days ago
Text
—squid game characters w/ a s/o who got SA’d
Characters: Hwang Jun-ho, Hwang In-ho, Kang Dae-ho, Kim Jun-hee, Choi Su-bong/Thanos, Cho Sang-woo
warning: mentions of SA, not proof read, could be inaccurate/OOC
A/N. I’m sorry to whoever had to endure this and i sincerely hope you’re all doing well out there 🤍
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—Hwang Jun-ho
notices almost immediately—you’re quieter, jumpier, and flinch when touched
doesn’t push you to talk but makes sure you know he’s there
if you let him, he sits next to you in silence, just to remind you you’re not alone
the first time you recoil from his touch, his heart sinks, but he doesn’t take it personally
becomes extra patient, only touching you when you initiate
if you open up, he listens without interrupting, his jaw clenched in anger—not at you, but at whoever did this
starts walking you home, checking in constantly, making sure you’re never alone in unsafe places
encourages therapy but doesn’t force it, instead leading by example by opening up about his own struggles
quietly puts protective measures in place—changes his routine to match yours, subtly watches out for you in public
no matter how long it takes, he’s staying
—Hwang In-ho
he’s not one to ask, but he knows. your avoidance, the way you tense up—he doesn’t need to hear it to understand
doesn’t touch you unless you make the first move, but his presence alone is grounding
you don’t notice, but he starts keeping track of where you go, making sure you’re never unsafe
if you tell him what happened, he listens without a word. when you’re done, he just says, “I see.”
but after that? he’s handling it—whether you know it or not
if you don’t want therapy, fine— but he’s making sure you eat, sleep, and don’t shut yourself away
keeps himself calm, but the second he’s alone, he grips the nearest object tight until his knuckles turn white
the man who did this to you? he’s already found out who they are
won’t let you see his anger—he’s here to make you feel safe, not scare you further
but he will make sure it never happens again
—Choi Su-bong
you stop laughing at his dumb jokes. that’s how he knows something’s seriously wrong
the first time you flinch away from his touch, he goes quiet— that’s how shaken he is
doesn’t know how to talk about this kind of thing, so he just sticks by your side
constantly checking on you—“You good?” “Need anything?” “You eat yet?”
his anger is dangerous—but not toward you. he has to physically stop himself from breaking something
if you do tell him, he listens for once, no jokes, no interruptions—just pure focus on you
after that? He’s never letting you go anywhere alone again. not happening
tries to make you feel normal again—not by ignoring it, but by treating you with the same love as before, just more careful
if touch is too much, he backs off instantly. but if you ever reach for him, even just a sleeve tug? he melts
mo matter how long it takes, he’s there—loud when you need a distraction, quiet when you need peace
—Kang Dae-ho
notices immediately—you’re not as talkative, your shoulders stay tense, and you flinch at the smallest touch
doesn’t say anything at first, just makes sure you know he’s there
the first time you push his hand away, his chest aches, but he doesn’t take it personall
moves slower around you, gives you space, but never makes you feel alone
when you finally tell him, his whole body stiffens—he takes a deep breath before responding
“You’re safe now. I promise.” and he means it
suggests therapy but doesn’t push—he just reminds you that healing isn’t something you have to do alone
the kind of guy who would just sit with you, letting you exist without expectations
buys you a weighted blanket, calming teas, and a self-defense keychain or something like that because he needs to do something to help
won’t let you shut yourself away from the world, but he’ll never force you into anything before you’re ready
—Kim Jun-hee
she doesn’t need to ask, she already knows.
she’s seen this happen before—to friends, to women who suddenly stop smiling the way they used to
the way you shrink away from touch, the way your voice gets softer, the way your eyes dart away—it tells her everything
she doesn’t push you to talk. instead, she adapts. Stops touching you unless you initiate. makes sure you feel safe without making a big deal of it.
when you’re ready to tell her, she just listens. tears well up in her eyes while you’re talking about it but she doesn’t let then slip— because this is about you, not her
but later, when she’s alone? she clenches her fists so hard her nails dig into her palm
starts subtly adding small comforts into your life—extra blankets, soft lights, grounding activities
reminds you every day that this wasn’t your fault. That you are still you
would 100% walk you home, make sure you’re safe, and never let you feel alone in this
she will never let anyone make you feel powerless again
—Cho Sang-woo
at first, he doesn’t catch on. he’s busy, stressed, always thinking a hundred steps ahead. but after a few days, he realizes—something’s off
you don’t meet his eyes as much. you hesitate before speaking. you flinch when he reaches for you, and that’s when it clicks
he doesn’t ask right away. he just watches, no ticing every little thing. the way you shrink into yourself, the way you stop laughing as much. it eats at him
when you finally tell him, he goes completely still. no outburst, no immediate reaction—just clenched fists and a tight jaw as he processes
he hates feeling helpless. hates that this happened to you and he couldn’t stop it. but he won’t let his emotions get in the way. you come first
starts making little adjustments without drawing attention to them. making sure you always feel safe, never pushing but always there
doesn’t touch you unless you initiate it. but the first time you lean into him, even just a little, his heart aches in a way he can’t explain
he’s not the best with words, but he’s steady. reliable. you don’t have to question if he’s staying
he’s proud of every little achievement you make and silently celebrates them, giving you the love and support you deserve
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plutoslastwords · 1 day ago
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can we get more babynorris!reader pleaseee i loved those they're soo cutee
stream sniper
lando norris x daughter!reader
summary: lando makes a surprise return to streaming, baby norris makes a surprise appearance on said stream
warnings: none!
w/c: 1.1k
a/n: this is short and terrible, i'm sorry, but i wanted to get something out before work starts to pile up on monday! tysm for requesting!!!! 🤍
~~~
“Goodnight my darling… sleep well baby.” Lando placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as he tucked you into bed and your eyes fought to stay open. “Daddy’ll come wake you up in the morning okay? There we go, good girl.” He smiled as you snuggled up with your favourite bunny toy and drifted off to sleep. 
He quietly creeped out of your bedroom, and into his office where he had a message from Max (Fewtrell):
Max
you wanna join my stream?
Read the message, which Lando pondered on for a minute, before reaching a different conclusion.
You
only if you join mine
After a much too long hiatus, Lando was ready to return to his streaming days and with you sound asleep in bed, there was no better time than the present.
He struggles with setting up the stream, having to be retaught by Max, god, it’s really been way too long..
However, soon enough he was back in the familiar rhythm, gaming, cracking jokes with his friends and generally entertaining his stream. He’d missed streaming, between being a dad, F1 driver and all of his other duties he had not had much time to just enjoy some gaming with his friends with the rest of the world. 
Him and his friends were just messing around for about 20 minutes when, silently, the door to his office slowly creaked open, which went unnoticed by him, but definitely not his stream.
You toddle in, holding your rabbit toy with messy bed hair and bunny pyjamas. 
“Daddy..” you try calling, you couldn’t fall asleep and you needed him to give you another cuddle and tuck you in better. However, your call falls on deaf ears, Lando too engrossed in his game with his friends.
The chat is going insane, you’re very rarely shown to the public, Lando wanted to keep your life relatively normal, you’re only 3 after all, so therefore whenever his fans get a glimpse of you, chaos ensues. 
Lando’s mods are desperately trying to get his attention that his daughter was in the background, knowing he’s anxious about how much of you should be shown to the public, however his game is much more interesting than any discord message from his team. 
You pout when he ignores you yet again, the chat going crazy over your adorable scrunched up face. You know your daddy doesn’t really like it when you interrupt him when he’s working, but you chose to forget that, waddling over to where he sits and tugging on his shirt.
Lando jumps in surprise, having completely missed the fact that you had wandered into his office, and now were being shown in front of 15 thousand people. He quickly mutes his mic and turns his camera off, pulling you into his lap.
“Babygirl, why’re you here, huh? I thought you were meant to be in bed? Daddy’s working sweet thing…” he says softly.
“Couldn’t sleep daddy… wanna be with you…” He can hear his friends asking what’s wrong through his headset, he doesn’t want to upset you, but he also doesn’t want to stop the game, he very rarely gets chances like this to spend with his friends.
He pauses for a moment, going through his options, before eventually relenting. “Why don’t you stay here whilst daddy plays angel? Sit on my lap and you can fall asleep if you get tired, okay?” He coos at you.
In response, you nod, that sounds nice, getting to spend time with your daddy, especially when it’s past your bedtime. He smiles at you, “good girl, sweetheart..”
He turns his mic and camera back on, your little form now on view to the stream.
“We gotta new guest, chat, someone didn’t wanna fall asleep hm? Say hi to chat, my love” He strokes your hair gently.
“Hi chat…” You say shyly, waving, but you’re not really sure at who, there is no one there?
The chat immediately fills up with love for you, all of Lando’s fans adore you, who doesn’t? Lando smiles as he reads the messages of greeting, he loves how much everyone loves you, how much joy you bring to people, especially him.
Lando continues to play his game whilst you sit quietly, drifting off into a sleepy state from time to time. Occasionally you point out something that you could see on his screen, to which he would respond with a beaming grin and a ‘yeah baby, that’s right, clever clever girl!’, to which his chat would go even more insane.
Overtime, however, sitting watching your daddy’s strange game becomes a bit too much for you, and you are struggling to fight your heavy eyes. Before you know it, you are sound asleep on your daddy’s lap, head buried into his chest.
Noticing this, Lando smiles, “Gotta be quiet now, chat, the princess has gone to sleep..” he whispers, gently rubbing your back in order to make sure you are having as peaceful a sleep as possible. He grabs your bunny from where you had left it on his desk, placing it gently into your hold, knowing there’d be tears if you were to wake up without it. 
The stream continues on for about another hour, but everyone can tell that it is no longer Lando’s main focus, too busy watching your peaceful little body on his lap. He finishes up the steam swiftly, having bigger priorities to focus on.
“Hey, baby, daddy’s finished now, we gotta get you back to bed, yeah?” He whispers softly, as to not startle you, gently rubbing your shoulder to wake you up.
You just rub your head into his chest in response, still groggy and half asleep, but awake enough to get your thoughts across, “I stay with daddy.” You mumble firmly.
“No, baby, daddy’s gotta go to bed too, we gotta get up, okay?” He chuckles at your insistence.
“No!” You say, firmer this time, “I go to bed with daddy!”
Lando sighs, but there is no real malice, he would love nothing more than to have you with him, he sleeps the best he ever does when you’re right there, but he knows that it’s a bad habit to continually let you sleep in his bed.
He quickly shuts those thoughts down when he looks into your pleading, big, sweet, sleepy eyes, and all resolve cracks.
“Oh, of course, my darling, anytime, you know that..” He coos, standing up with you in his arms and heading towards his bedroom. “Daddy loves you more than anything, little monkey…”
~~~
a/n: sorry this isn't very good :( thank you sm for all of the love 😁 and pls keep on requesting anything about baby norris or anything else you'd like to see!
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deerspherestudios · 2 days ago
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AAAA I’m always too shy to come off anon, but because I don’t have to for the moment, I just wanted to say that I love Mushroom Oasis so much!!!! Mycheal is just such a well fleshed out character - he isn’t the embodiment of a trope or presented as solely good or evil, but is both consistent and contradictory in a way that feels (ironically) very human. He is shown to act in accordance with a deeper set of core values rather than just the surface level opinions or feelings which might present themselves more obviously. He also has multiple of these core values that inform his decisions, which is shown very well in how he fights with himself and comes to conclusions in order to remedy those internal (and external) conflicts. He lies, he’s aware and unaware of certain aspects of himself, and he responds differently based on his current state but is always loyal to his underlying motivations and character traits. He’s good at certain things and bad at others, even within the same field, but has core strengths that inform these proficiencies. It’s hard to describe in words what all I’m referring to, but if I had to summarize it: Mycheal has a set of core, largely static values and capabilities shaped by his experiences that inform all of his decisions and behaviors. He also has temporary states of being, informed by his interpretations of past experiences and core values. You are able to keep these core values stable (while changing them, which is even harder to accomplish convincingly) as he responds differently to different situations, which is something I don’t think I see often in most characters. Mycheal is just so layered and his complexity is written beautifully!
Hopefully at least some of that made sense akdjdjs - ultimately, I just wanted to share the sentiment that your writing is phenomenal and that I explode every time I think of your mushroom man! He is beautiful both as a specimen for character study and as an individual to simp for, so thank you for sharing him with the world!
A shorter, but no less earnest, comment on Astronought: I ADORE how subversive it is! I never thought I’d see a VN where the love interest turned out to be multiple entities. Well. Kind of?They’re a Hivemind, so they’re only multiple entities in a sense. Gah, Atom is so cool! I can’t wait to hear more about them, even if only in asks every once in a while.
Genuinely, thank you so much for sharing your games with the community - I think I speak for all of us when I say that I really, really enjoy them. Have a wonderful rest of your day :)
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Anon where are yuo anon come off anon so i can hold ur hand and thank you peersonally anon
Also, as I double check the queue I just realized today (22nd Feb) is the 2nd year anniversary for Mushroom Oasis!! So it's only fitting that it's my turn to thank the community alongside this person, for being here as I continue working on this project!
You're all wonderful people and I can't express enough how much the support means to me! ❤️🍄🎉
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