#i hope this was a good first try of a longer format!

[pinkpenguin12401]

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

April 27th, 2024:

Today I went to Montclair NJ with some family friends. I ended up not spending a lot of time with them directly, I ended up walking around on my own doing a lot of exploring and learning about myself. I learned that I want to start setting more long-term goals. ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)  I'm going to be 26 next month, I am SO NOT ready for that!

I also drew a lot today, I did mostly observational sketches of random women I saw while sitting on a bench. I also drew my point of view from the back seat on the way to Montclair. I also doodled my baby, Ivan, if I don't draw him at least once a day, something is very wrong. LOL.

૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა☆⋆｡

I did go out to lunch alone during the day trip! My dad was super nice and gave me lunch money for when I go out. (Thanks Dad!). I went to a very small ramen restaurant. I tried shouyu ramen for the first time. WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME TO TRY THAT SOONER??? I HAVE BEEN MISSING OUT. ‎𐂐◯𓇋

At one point I was in the like circle of churches. And I sat down on a bench and I was relaxing, and some little curly-haired dog ran up to me and started snuggling my legs. And his owners were like "Bentley, Bentley stop it!"

Fun fact, my dog's name is Bentley. ૮ ˆﻌˆ ა When I looked up he finally listened to his owners, and I saw a congregation of my faith directly across the street from me. My one friend said it was God intervening. What a strange coincidence though. I don't know what to make of it yet. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Not much else happened, I came home around 6 and my mom and I had a huge discussion on random things while tidying up the kitchen together. We managed to get along. Which is rare. ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

Alright, now it is time for me to go do my Duolingo, some math, and some journaling. (And maybe buy the Sims 3 since it's on sale- we'll see!).

Have a good night! Oh, here are some photos I took!

ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[sickwhispers]

helloo!! could i request a twisted astro x a very sleepy toon reader? :3 like they just have habits of falling asleep everywhere no matter what even during chases with other twisted?

of course no pressure with writing! ^_^ have a good day or night !

Don't worry it's no pressure at all! You astro fans understand me deeply. (Also dw I got your other ask as well, the standard format for x reader requests are headcanons unless someone specifically asks for something else like a one-shot)

BEDTIME ROUTINE

Pairing: (Twisted) Astro x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warning: he might sound a little stalker-ish, reader isn't fully comfortable with his twisted form yet

Type: headcanons + drabble

Twisted Astro no longer wears that same signature cornflower blue blanket anymore

It's not that he doesn't like it or that the ichor had ruined its quality beyond repair

It's just that he was better things to use it for now

He always kept it wrapped around your figure, practically covering every aspect of your body besides a little pocket that allowed you to breathe comfortably

he always made sure to keep you hidden

he knew how dangerous the other twisted could be, and because of that, it had become his number one priority to keep you safe and sound

although before he had gotten used to your sleepy nature, there was a lot of concern surrounding how many times he had found you passed out somewhere on the floor

at first, he had debated if you had some kind of sleeping disorder like narcolepsy

but after a while, he had found out it was just how you were

that didn't reassure his worries completely, though

part of him was thankful you were always sleeping

despite how guilty he felt about that tiny little pleasure

he knew he was scary

he's seen the fear in your eyes

it had been so long since you've smiled his way

but when you were asleep, it was almost like you trusted him again

he's no longer the same Astro you've known all those years

a voice in the back of his head keeps trying to convince him that if you just see how much he cares for you

how many times he's wrapped you up in a blanket and shielded you from the world outside your dreams

that you'd realize just how much he truly loves you

you'd finally realize that he'd rather face a brutal death than ever allow anything to harm you

maybe he's just too shy to outright say that

but part of him can't help but hope that he wouldn't have to

that everything would fall into place, and you'd come to that realization yourself

It didn't take too long before the twisted had lost their interest in you. The blaring sound of an airhorn had captured its attention quick enough to leave your resting body unharmed. And, with the sound fading into nothing, he made sure to be gentle when holding you close. You had been lucky enough to run into a twisted with a low attention span, and he had been lucky enough to get to you in time before your death could become a possibility.

Your chest rose and fell in an almost rhythmic motion, and if his mind still hadn't been panicking from the idea of losing you this floor, he would've taken the time to admire just how soft your snores were. But, there were still threats on this floor. As much as he would have loved to sit there and watch you sleep, he knew it was only a matter of time before another twisted came along and threatened your safety.

So, in the gentlest fashion, he wrapped your body up in the cornflower colored blanket he always did and wisked you off. He didn't know when you'd wake up from this little nap of yours, and despite how guilty it made it him, he wished it wouldn't be until a few hours. He found comfort in holding you close to him. A comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.

It was cute with how tired you always were, and he was thankful it gave him an opportunity to hold you do tenderly in his two upper arms. He knew if you woke up you'd be terrified. It's happened before. It hurt him having to watch the way your eyes widened, the sound of your hasty breathing had been almost deafening as you tried to bite back a scream.

But for now, he'd have to take it slow. He'd have to ease you into this new form of his. He'd have to teach you that despite how grotesque the view of ichor dripping down from his eyes was, he could be gentle. He could be the same Astro you had loved before. You just needed time, He'd tell himself over and over. You just needed time.

And, until that time came, he'd continue to stay a silent savior. One unbeknownst to you as you slept soundly against him. You could sleep as long as you wanted on these floors. As long as he was with you, he'd protect you. He'd keep you safe.

He's almost too shy to give away the possibility of you knowing how you managed to survive so many floors for this long

With how many times you had just dropped to the floor mid-chase, the others would have assumed you'd be long gone

And yet, you continue to stay alive

[httpsserene]

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆�� | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

2k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @mindless-rock @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @riveristhebest1 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-random @multi-fandom-rando @dreamingofautopia @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @userlandonorris @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari @dark-night-sky-99 @svinzlec @angelfreckless @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25

© httpsserene2024

[astonmartingf]

THIS IS NOT OUT OF THE BLUE ; YT22

yuki tsunoda x gasly!reader . . . in big brother fashion, pierre wants you to go on a date with yuki to convince him to move closer to milan. however, yuki already lives in milan, and pierre is still not putting the pieces together

amgf see this is what yuki brainrot gets you, i love this omg one of my best works yet, i might come back to this type of format because i am not writing pt2s anymore!!!!!! (lovingly ofc) just like always, enjoy 👍 @viennakarma it's done 🫡

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and 12 others

yourusername i get why my brother likes him so much now. he's a fucking child! feels like another day spent with pierre.

view comments...

francisca.cgomes awww they're bonding look pierregasly

pierregasly you had me in the first half, wym a child he's older than you

yourusername doesn't seem like it, seeing how you act, understandable

charles_leclerc oh chérie, what is your brother up to?

yourusername he's up to no good as usual, but if he's constantly yapping to you then you must know what he's up to

charles_leclerc i'm more surprised that you agreed to this?

yourusername he threatened to throw me back to university for a master's degree this time FFS

charles_leclerc well, if it's a master's degree or a date... understandable

yourusername control him please, i can't be the victim of his antics no more

pierregasly he said he had fun!!!

pierregasly now go on another date with him 🫣

yourusername ???? what is actually wrong with you

pierregasly you're acting like you didn't have fun, you even posted it for the whole family to see

yourusername get off my back pierre, my account my rules

pierregasly yeah you constantly yapping to your 20 followers which half are our family members

yourusername i'm blocking you next

pierregasly try me bitch

yourusername oh i will, you are no longer welcome in my account, get out

yourusername uploaded a new story

[he's taking me somewhere... i hope i come out alive 😀]

pierregasly replied to your story

oh my gosh, is this progress?

apparently he's in milan, and now we're on the coast so... i guess

wym he's in milan?

he's here?

he's with me atm but yeah

i saw him earlier and he asked if i was free

did he say ask about me?

sorry pierre 😐

non no, it's fine

i'm a bit sad he didn't contact me but i'm glad you're together

francisca.cgomes replied to your story

a boat date 🥰

it's not a date...

we're just hanging out

uh huh... cool

that's it?

wym?

that's it? you're just letting me off the hook like that? no teasing about being yuki's future lover or smth?

you want me to tease you about it?

non, not really i was just thinking about it

you're thinking about being yuki's future lover?

shut up kika, you know i didn't mean it that way

yeah yeah, sure 😏

you're absolutely telling this to pierre huh?

you know, i'm on your side for this one

your secret's safe with me 😉

what secret?

oh yn, for someone older than me you're a bit out of it but it's okay you'll get it one day 😊

get what?

kika?

what are you talking about?

yukitsunoda511 replied to your story

wow, you don't trust me one bit

i thought we had something going on

yeah right, shut up yuki

am i your boyfriend?

🥺🥹😭

yes

good girl 😊

yourusername uploaded a new story

[it's him again... annoying asf]

yukitsunoda0511 replied to your story

why would you lie to your audience like that?

because it's way more fun this way

duh???

everyday i'm reminded that you are pierre's sister when you pull shit like this

excuse me?

are you calling my soft launching methods shit 😕

i'm just kidding

you totally aren't

you're right, i am not

it's just i didn't think he'd be that dense about it

i'm sure i told him we were dating

he's forgetful like that

don't start talking, you didn't even tell him about us

i did!

uh huh....

well, it's funny to me because look, he's so desperately trying to get us together because we're so perfect for each other (ikr) and if he would've just listened like a year ago he would've known about us already

i mean, even alex knows what's up and she's seen us like twice already

alex has seen us a couple of times, even kika but pierre...

he'll figure it out, it's like he's been waiting so long for us to date, i don't know when he'll realize it

let's pray for him

praying for pierre 🙏

yourusername

liked by yukitsunoda0511, charles_leclerc, and 13 others

yourusername road trip with 💋 + we met alex on her field trip, it's a win 😊

view comments...

alexandrasaintmleux it's nice to see you two ❤️ have fun on your road trip

yourusername ahhhh thank you, we'll see you soonest 😠

charles_leclerc come visit us next time ^^

pierregasly are you in monaco? hello? who is that person 🤨 where are you going? you said to update me? where are my updates?

yourusername i told you where we're going dumbass, check your messages be for fucking real

pierregasly oh you did send me updates

yourusername 🙄

pierregasly OWAH? YUKI IN THE LIKES? liked by yukitsunoda0511!!!!! we're winning today

yourusername what is actually wrong with you?

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, yukitsunoda0511, and 22 others

yourusername milan. my man.

view comments...

pierregasly can't believe i'm finding out through an instagram post and not IRL, fake sister 👎

yourusername is it our fault if you didn't listen?

pierregasly i was already shipping you in my head with yuki, i thought of it first

yourusername okay and? doesn't change the fact that we've been mentioning it for a long time already

yukitsunoda0511 i mean yn is right, i did tell you as well

pierregasly okay everyone is ganging up on pierre for not knowing blah blah blah

francisca.cgomes i mean babe, you are the only one who didn't catch up

alexandrasaintmleux it was clear as daylight, they're not only dating but they're clearly fucking you're so dumb in your own delusions to see

pierregasly okay wow, i'm going to ignore the last few texts but first it was my sister, next my teammate, then my girlfriend, next my friend's girlfriend okay charles i know you're with me here buddy defend me please 🙏

charles_leclerc do you want me to add more salt to the wound? because i agree with all of them...

yourusername see? this didn't just happen out of nowhere, it was already happening and you were just too invested to see the truth

yukitsunoda0511 i look good there, next time i'm posting 😊

yourusername noooo i want to gatekeep you 😠 no no non

yukitsunoda0511 okay, whatever you say goes 🫡

yukitsunoda0511 can i soft launch?

yourusername yes 🥰

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

~~

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

~

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

~

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

~~

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

Series' masterlist | Tamaki's masterlist | Navigation

Tips <3

Reblogs help spread and support my work, therefore they help me immensely but any support is appreciated <33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way minus reblogging.

[domoriu]

thinking about jaehyun… who just needs to be filled up all the time like the whore he is.

cw. smut mdni ! sub!jaehyun gn!reader, anal play & toys used on jaehyun

the boy was so cockdrunk, no matter what you did he’d somehow always want more. your lubed up fingers stretching his hole out while he trembles under your touch.

“more, more” he pokes his ass out as a way to convince you, you’re already three fingers deep and you know at this rate he’d probably want all of your fingers.

sliding your fingers out of the boy, you decide he’s prepped enough for the dildo you had bought just for him. he whimpers at the loss of contact, burying his face into the pillows while he waits for you to lube up the silicone before pressing it against his hole.

jaehyun loves being filled up. ever since the first time he tried it with you he just knew he’d want to be filled up all the time. and then he started getting greedy, needing more and more — longer, thicker, harder, he doesn’t even need to touch his cock in order to cum when you fuck him, abusing his prostate until he’s making a mess all over the sheets, your hands, and his tummy.

like now, tears fill jaehyuns waterline as he squirms. he can’t move much with the way you have him tied to a chair, stuffed to the hilt with a dildo suctioned to the seat. every time he moves the silicone moves in him, rubbing against his walls so deliciously. the pleasure he was feeling is only amplified with the vibrating cock ring you put on him, bucking his hips into the air. he cant tell where his last orgasm ends and his next one starts, but he can’t complain when it feels so good.

“be a good boy and fuck my hand, hyunnie” your words ring through his ears and he barely hears you, but he’s still attentive even when he’s so overstimulated. he looks down and sees your hand so close to his cock, tip red and leaking and practically begging for your touch. he does what he’s told, raising his hips so his cock fits into the O shape you have your hand in, sliding against the skin before moving back down.

he can barely handle all the stimulation, the drag of his cock against your hand with each raise of his hips mixed with the way he sinks back down onto the cock inside of him, stretching him out so good and deep, and then the low vibrations from the cock ring were just so much for him. he wouldn’t be able to last much longer, and you coo at his dazed state.

“mmph, cum- gonna cum-“ jaehyun bites his lip, trying to distract himself from the way you stare at him and how he can hear the sounds from his skin making contact with the bottom of the chair.

“that’s it, cum all over my hand baby… make a mess for me” and with a tight squeeze around his cock he’s cumming, bottoming out around the silicone toy as he drips all down your hand. he grinds his hips as he rides his orgasm out, slowly coming back to reality through his blurred vision. you tsk when his hips come to a stop, using your free hand to pinch his outer thigh and he yelps.

“ah ah, dont slow down. i know you can take some more, cant you? my little slut can take all that i give him, right?”

for @zynz0 …. im feeling evil rn 🙂‍↕️ this is kinda formatted weird sorry i hope its still good <3 🤓

also !!! do you guys fw gn!reader… i feel like if its focused on the idol mainly then adding fem reader isnt too important :3

[yuoimia]

DAY 5: KEEP THINKING OF ME ❅⋆⍋

summary: when you ‘forget’ to kiss him goodbye.

characters: alhaitham, lyney, neuvillette, xiao.

notes: i have this weird thing of progressively making the paragraphs longer than the previous, wanted to try a different format, gn! reader. wc: 160 - 200 per character.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

alhaitham

Let’s be honest, he’d remind you.

Alhaitham is attentive to detail, fairly organised when it comes to routine, and certainly notices when something that ties his hasty mornings together is forgotten. He likes to say the work of a scribe is so endlessly dreary that he should be at least deserving of some reward. Preferably, though not outwardly stated, affection in the form of a tender kiss of your silken lips, brisk, energetic or longing, he’s not fussy.

Alhaitham believes that your affection is one of the only divine cures that could possibly be the remedy to the multitude of poisons inflicting his sanity. You find it a little funny; who knew the Akedemiya’s renowned scribe and former Acting Grand Sage could be so dramatic?

So, when you do forget to kiss him before he exits the door, he makes sure to mention it, makes sure that you won’t forget the next morning, because otherwise, the Akedemiya would have to deal with a missing employee.

lyney

The thing with Lyney is…he probably had more than plenty before he even reached this dilemma.

Throughout the day, from the first sunbeams to the final streaks of moonlight, he was quite bold when it came to the showers of love he craved most frequently. In truth, Lyney considers a day terribly incomplete if he hasn’t been exposed to the warm feelings of your beloved affection. He sincerely promises you that the simple regret doesn’t leave his mind, despite all the distractions he hopes to divert his thoughts revolving madly around you. Something that beautiful should never go overlooked.

Depending on the cruciality of the situation, he’d turn back and come knocking on your door with such a solemn expression that you’d assume that someone had died. The question would arise, his voice uncertain and curious, “Did you forget something important this morning?”

The best option would be to just give him that precious kiss. You don’t want him to do anything too extreme for it, do you?

neuvillette

Did he upset you the night before?

Neuvillette’s knowledge of the complexities of human emotions and responses was, in comparison to anyone else, a little rusty, he admits. That, of course, does not stop him from trying. The often ‘lost in his thoughts’ face the people of Fontaine regularly noticed about him was merely Neuvillette grasping in the elements of human nature, for to deeply understand them was essential if he ever planned on living alongside them.

The lighthearted experiment was just to see how he would react—a small prank, you convince yourself—but perhaps, just maybe, the chief justice had sincerely thought you were mad at him.

You haven’t seen him all day.

Neuvillette seems to have abandoned the customary meeting spots you’d typically bump into him, and that’s when you know.

The idea of putting the blame on himself, making up some complicated scenario that was certainly not true, elicits a newfound determination to make it up to him, to apologise with the compensation of the truth.

That evening, you wait for the door to open, and when it does, you ensure the person entering is gifted the sincere caress of your lips—a few more than what he expects.

xiao

Xiao would continue on with his day. He’s fine, thank you for asking. So what if you forgot to kiss him goodbye?

However, it would be a downright lie to assume that he was 100% veritably unaffected. Xiao was never particularly good at masking emotions, but rather more skilled at intensifying them.

He’ll ponder and wonder; the same question answered with the same reply, repeating like a lament, carving into the inconsolable space of his mind. In other words, Xiao is sulking and in brutal denial of it.

You observe him from the distance, standing on the tip of a faraway mountain, and there’s a strong feeling that he’s gazing at you, too.

Call out my name, he almost begs, a foolish excuse to inexplicably confront you.

The sound of your voice summons him instantly; it breaks him out of his trance, and what you say next cuts through all the tragic thoughts he ever contemplated beforehand.

“I forgot to kiss you this morning,” you smile, playfully apologetic. “Did you realise?”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, there’s nothing to be said, but his actions prove all that needs to be said—how the corners of his lips tug just the bit upwards as he leans into you.

[hyewka]

Omg for your game beomgyu + hybrid ! Except he’s a bear hybrid since I don’t actually see it often despite him being a bear and though I love puppy hybrid gyu I want to see some bear gyu appreciation 😭🤭🤔

⭑ warnings; hybrid!au, switch!beomgyu, wolf!reader, mean femdom, dubcon, fwb, predator x prey, creampie, use of whore and bitch in demeaning ways, not proofread

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

you don't exactly know what the dumb cub's obsession with you comes from. you've never looked at him different than any other predator, and yet he has this weird big crush on you. does he know what's good for him or do all preys really just lack critical thinking?

"you're pretty," he babbles in answer of your question as you purposefully clamp down on his itty bitty thing. all it really has is girth. as expected of a bear.

"no duh. but i'm not the prettiest wolf out there so again, why do you like me so much?"

your eyes shoot open when beomgyu unexpectantly starts bucking his hips into your cunt, without permission. who the hell does he think he is?! you're about to curse him out, but as you lose your composure the faster he humps into your heat, he starts talking again.

"but y-you're the prettiest to me."

it's embarrassing how much those words have an effect on you. the heat that rushes up your cheeks is embarrassing, all of it is embarrassing, you're the one who's supposed to have him blushing and yet the dumb cub is the one having you so flustered. you manage to recover, quickly collecting yourself. you huff, taking it upon yourself to hold his wrists together over his head then using your right hand to trail under his shirt, pinching his nipples. that ought to teach him.

"ow! fuck! that hurt!" he shrieks, tears shooting to water his eyes.

"ill do it again if you act out little grizzly, sit there pliant or ill rip your little teddy ears off." he looks angry, frowning at you with his bottom lip stuck out like the baby he is, but really who is he to act like this? you're the one riding him and exerting all the effort while he sits against a tree. he should be grateful that you aren't a bigger bitch.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he keeps it in as his frown transforms to ecstasy, mouth agape as his brows knit together and god, his facial expression really has you horny, hoping you could at least cum from this too.

then he rips it away from you. again.

"gonna cum, keep going you're sooogood at this--h-ha fuckkk"

you blink dumbfounded, does he really think you'll let his dirty litter in your belly? god what a dumbass.

almost immediately you stop and his glossy eyes fly open, he really looks like the most precious thing as he tries and fails to hump you. "no--no fuck!"

you tsk, letting go of his wrists and getting off his dick, dusting off your top. "hoped you'd last a little longer," you murmur pulling your panties up, indifferent to the fact that you just ruined an orgasm for him and he's squirming to try and get his high back with his hand. you could tell he's failing.

it's almost like a power trip leaving the bear on his ass, ruined to shreds against the tree, hiccuping and panting, legs still spread like a whore-- you're satisfied with your work if anything. so you didn't expect to be hurled with your back against the tree, everything going so fast and seemingly out of nowhere, the light switch terrifying with how dangerously close beomgyus face is to yours, with your wrists pinned.

"god you're such a bitch," he growls lowly, and you shiver, for the first time seeing his canines in a more predatory light. "want me to treat you like one? throw you around and give it to you rough like all the asshole predators?"

you don't let your weakness show, trying to bury down your fear. "let me go if you know what's good for you beomgyu." you warn trying to stare him down with the same intense look. it's not as effective as it usually is because he doesn't stop, tightening his hold.

"want me to use you as a body rag? thats what you want right? will that get you to treat me better than a fucking second class citizen? fuck your pussy and breed you with my cubs?"

with every word, it's like venom, your nose flaring, you're pissed. but yet the last bit stirs something deep in you, it's all confusing. why're you into this? you like toys you can control, not someone so unpredictable. who is he to think he could speak to you like that anyway? just because you haven't killed him the first chance you got and kept him around your circle he's acting out like he's better than you, like you've wronged him. you sneer at him.

"i could brush my knee against your dick and you'd buckle to your knees gyu, that's how weak you are. you wouldn't know a thing about fucking me like a bitch." you whisper, keeping the demeaning smile on your face, trying to ignore the feeling of his nails digging into your skin further and further, no doubt bruising.

you expect it, him attaching himself to you again. no matter how much you get a little mean, his lips still crash onto yours, rough and greedy and grossly passionate, like he's trying to convince you of something. it's different this time, he's not holding back, slipping his hand down your pants not wasting any time to rub at your clit, not waiting for any instructions and your body is reacting.

"so wet." he sighs into the feeling of your pussy, squeezing in a second, then a third. "what a whore."

he's fast, he's experienced with his fingers, he knows exactly what you like and it's all your fault for instructing him this entire time. he always had a glint to his eyes, like he'd snap and take you himself. and you guess today was his last straw.

"fuck, beomgyu, i-i'm gonna cum.." it's humiliating, but your pussy clenches around his slender fingers, and you could hear him whimpering, like this gets him off too. even when he's the one in control, he's still as desperate.

suddenly, like your warning is the call he's been waiting for, he turns you back to have your body against the tree, and you know he wants to go along his promise to breed you. suddenly you feel the emptiness of his fingers, and you're about to complain before he takes both your wrists in his hand, having them behind your back, his dick proding your entrance. "ready bitch?"

"beomgyu i swear if you cum inside of me-"

he doesn't listen, of course he doesn't. your tits bounce with each and every thrust and you just hope to the gods that nobody finds you like this. he's totally gone savage, trying to drill his cock deep into your pussy, whispering all sorts of filthy words. if everything before wasn't a big whiplash this was it.

even when you orgasm around his dick, he isn't satisfied. "beomgyu-fuck! stop please it h-hurts-"

"im not stopping until i have your tummy filled. ill make you have my babies." he says with so much conviction, his breath staggering.

"for the last time we can't breed dumb cub!" is what you wish you could say but all you're capable of with the mush state of your mind is intelligible moans. he's as fast and ruthless, playing with your tits when he can, not missing a second to kiss all over your neck.

you've lost to beomgyu of all people, how humiliating.

note; I haven't read over this but hopefully it's okay, crossing my fingers 😭

[twig-tea]

GL odds and ends 6 October 2024

I haven't been as good at posting about shows as I wanted to be, so I'm trying a round-up format instead because it feels like a lot of GLs skirt under the radar. It's exciting that we're in a time when there's enough GL airing that it's worth doing a round-up! This was a great week for the lesbians to figure themselves out, so it feels like a good week to start. No idea how regularly I'll do this, need to figure out a cadence that makes sense.

Currently airing (with thoughts up to Oct 6):

Reverse 4 U 5/8 (Thai, Tuesdays 1:00 PM EDT, Netflix / YouTube) This week the girls finally sorted themselves and we got set up for the main plot to start next week. I was initially really stoked about this one and then a little bummed that it's not taking it's very cool premise and the stakes it establishes as seriously as it could be, but I'm still hoping it will start to have real stakes in the main plot stretch.

The Two of Us s2 ep 6/6 END (Thai, 29 Aug-3 Oct 2024, YouTube) It was so great seeing women in their 40s being romantic together but I did not love the plot of this one; I find their romantic conflicts too juvenile (lots of easily-triggered jealousy). The moments they're being sweet are great though.

Unlock Your Love ep 4/8 (Thai, Wednesdays, GagaOOLala / YouTube [cut version]) This is the first episode that this series felt a little more assured; I liked the series this production company produced with a short run time, it feels like this series has been worse off for its longer episodes. That being said, when these couples get to do their thing like in this episode, they have good chemistry.

Chaser Game W s2 ep 3/8 (Japanese, Thursdays 12:30 PM EDT, GagaOOLala) @lurkingshan is already doing a great summary of this week to week in her JQL weekly round-up!

Affair the series ep 6/8 (Thai, Fridays 11:15 AM EDT, iQIYI/ YouTube) Finally! I liked that it was Ek pointing out that Wan was unhappy the entire time she was gone that finally got Pleng to give in to her desire to be with Wan. This show is so melodramatic but the emotional threads follow and the character motivations are clear and consistent; I'm enjoying it in spite of not loving melodramatic storylines in general. It helps that the acting in this one is excellent.

The Loyal Pin ep 10/16 (Thai, Sundays 12:15 PM EDT, YouTube) Glad we finally got confirmation of Patt's history! And I'm relieved Anin knows she has an ally, though I feel like it's given her false confidence that worries me. These two are stressing me out by how bad they are at being careful but I do love how desperate they are for each other, as well as how beautiful this show is.

Red Whisper ep 2/8 (Korea, Wednesdays and Sundays, YouTube) Starting with cheating is not my fave but is par for the course with these SukFilm short series; my fave so far has been their first GL so if you haven't seen that yet I'd honestly recommend that instead.

Recent One-offs

Out of Breath (re-release in a bingeable version; Korean, YouTube) Highly recommended! Also the creator, Soo not Sue, announced she's working on another series to hopefully air before the end of the year, which I am super stoked about.

The Suffering of Xiqing Mountain (Chinese (censored), YouTube)

Sastra film app YouTube channel has several short Cambodian GL series that come out weekly Honestly they are not to my taste but I don't like gatekeeping GL especially from smaller markets. I check in on these time to time and if there are any that I think are great I'll give them a shout-out

Ditto above with JPC media YouTube channel for Thai GL shorts if there are any that stand out to me I'll say so

Recently ended that I haven't had the wherewithal to write about:

Hoshikuzu Telepath (fansub) Thank you to @yuiyuihan for your hard work making it possible to watch this series! I I haven't read the original manga but I do know they changed the kiss communication to a forehead rest; Unsurprised that this adaptation, starring idols in the same group, would be left ambiguous in terms of whether their feelings are friendly or romantic. I liked what this series was trying to say, but in all honestly didn't love the execution. It's too bad because I absolutely love the concept of an alien being helped by girls obsessed with building rockets.

The Secret of Us 8 eps [complete] (24 Jun-15 Aug 2024, YouTube) I first included this in my recommendations from the summer and then retracted, but I ended up liking this series and then never updated again. So to set the record straight: Though it lost me in the middle, the ending on this series won be back over. I really appreciated the way this series handled filial piety and balancing that against personal happiness. I appreciated SO MUCH that the main characters decided together how to handle Lada's situation with her mother. I finally understood too late that Earn believed the lies Lada's mother told her in ep1, and that affected some of their decisions in the middle of the series. I still think the execution was wobbly, but the acting and chemistry between the two leads carries this series through. This has some of the best domestic fluff in any GL, as well as my favourite GL counter lift to date. And it's gorgeous. Tentatively recommended with the caveat that you do have to either enjoy or power through the melodrama in the middle.

Starting soon:

Apple My Love, Thai, 12 October, GagaOOLala

Pluto, Thai, 19 October, VIU

The Nipple Talk, Taiwanese, 1 November GagaOOLala

My Ex's Wedding [in theatres in Thailand 14 November]

Petrichor, Thai, 23 November, TBD

[mercillery]

Hi, I read your Frederick/Reader and absolutely fell in love with your writing style. Was kicking my feet type shi😭 If you’re willing to, could you write for Victor Grantz in the same format ? If you do my world genuinely will be complete.

Thanks and have a good one!

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: The way you worded your request was hilarious thank u so much and sorry this took super duper long…consider this my early Christmas gift to you. I hope this is the format you wanted 🥹❤️❤️❤️

Meeting Victor is like trying to pet a stray cat: approach too quickly, and he’s gone before you even say “hello.” He’s a master of the subtle retreat—one second there, the next, poof, like smoke in the wind. Victor’s shy, wary nature doesn’t just make him skittish; it’s practically an Olympic sport. He’s the reigning champion of Avoidance 101.

But don’t worry—if you come at him gently, with no sudden movements and a kind heart, he might cautiously peer out from behind the metaphorical couch. It’s a process though, so buckle up for the long haul. Winning Victor’s trust is less about grand gestures and more about the quiet, unspoken ones.

Want to impress him? Forget the flashy declarations of friendship and instead offer to help him feed the strays or—better yet—silently leave him a little note of encouragement. He’ll find it later, blush like a tomato, and spend three days overthinking how to say “thank you.”

Victor values people who respect his boundaries like they’re sacred artifacts in a museum—look, but don’t touch, unless invited. The tiniest, most understated acts of care leave the biggest impression on him.

Did you pick up a letter he dropped without making a big deal about it? Congratulations, you’re now a recurring character in the cinema of Victor’s mind. He’ll replay that scene like it’s Oscar-worthy, analyzing it frame by frame. “Were they just being kind, or did they pity me?” he’ll wonder at 3 a.m., sandwiched between anxiety and the hope that maybe—just maybe—you actually like him for who he is.

Spoiler alert: Victor is going to assume pity at first. That’s just his brand.

Victor’s idea of initiating a conversation is basically an international diplomatic incident. He’s not one to start talking, because, let’s be honest, that requires bravery, and he’s still working up to being brave enough to ask for extra ketchup at the fast food drive-thru. But once he trusts you and that’s a long journey involving more emotional hoops than the Olympics, he’ll let slip little nuggets of his inner world.

He’ll drop these tiny little gems about himself like it’s a treasure hunt, but you’ve got to be quick, because they’re easy to miss. One day, he might casually mention how a certain flower takes him back to his childhood—cue the mental image of him as a tiny, awkward version of himself, surrounded by daisies.

Another time, he might comment on how people’s faces light up when they get letters, like he’s some sort of professional mail therapist who knows the emotional impact of a good envelope. When Victor opens up, it’s like witnessing a rare bird in the wild—blink and you might miss it.

Victor is not one for blatant hints, because he’s too busy trying to avoid direct confrontation (his skill at this could be rivaled only by the world’s most skilled diplomats). So, no, he’ll never explicitly ask for your company, because that would require him to open his mouth and risk exposing his soft, squishy emotional side.

Instead, his actions do the talking—though they might need a bit of interpretation, so keep your detective hat on. Victor might subtly adjust his delivery route so it conveniently passes by places you frequent. It's almost as if he’s carefully plotting to get within a five-foot radius of you, and hey, who could blame him? Maybe he’s just really into the whole “unexpectedly running into people you know” thing.

Or, if he’s really feeling bold, he’ll linger a little longer when dropping off your mail, as if the mailbox suddenly has some profound existential meaning. If you happen to notice this and casually join him (because you are a good person who isn’t going to let Victor spiral into further awkwardness alone, right?), he’ll be overjoyed—but also extremely flustered, because admitting he wants you around would require him to admit he has feelings. And that, my friend, is a level of vulnerability he’s not quite ready for. But don’t worry, his heart’s doing the cha-cha on the inside.

Victor is a masterclass in the actions speak louder than words school of love. He’s not going to serenade you with declarations of affection or wax poetic about how your eyes sparkle like the morning dew—because, frankly, just thinking about that would make him combust.

Instead, he shows he cares in his own quiet, sneaky way. Mention your favorite tea once, and guess what? He’ll remember it for eternity. He’s got a mental file labeled Your Preferences: Highly Classified that’s better organized than the national archives.

You’ll casually say, “Oh, I’ve been meaning to read this one book,” and BAM—next thing you know, it’s magically in your mailbox with a little note that just says, “Thought you might like this.” And if there’s a stray cat you always stop to pet, Victor will casually start carrying an extra biscuit in his satchel for it.

Let’s be honest, though—if you look hungry enough, that biscuit might end up being for you. It’s basically his love language: tea, books, and snacks.

If you want to make his day, just sit next to him quietly and do something peaceful together. He’s like a houseplant—happy just existing in the same space as you, soaking up the shared sunlight.

Whether you’re tending a garden, reading side-by-side, or helping stray animals, those moments make him feel like he’s starring in his own low-budget indie movie (the kind with no dialogue but lots of meaningful glances).

There’s no pressure to talk, and that’s exactly how he likes it. If he had his way, his life would just be a montage of cozy, quiet activities with you, set to the soft plink of piano music.

Of course, Victor’s social anxiety has a habit of pulling pranks on both him and everyone else. One minute, he’s enjoying your company; the next, he’s retreating like a vampire caught in the sunlight. No explanation, no warning—just poof, gone. It’s not you, it’s him—and his brain, which likes to play a cruel game called Let’s Overthink This Until We Die.

If he avoids eye contact or looks like he’s considering tunneling through the nearest wall to escape, it’s not because you’ve done anything wrong. He’s probably just overwhelmed and desperately trying to remember how humans are supposed to behave. Give him some space, and he’ll come back once he’s convinced himself you don’t secretly think he’s the most awkward person alive.

Spoiler: he totally thinks you think that anyway.

Victor wrestles with an Olympic-level sense of unworthiness, like his brain has its own personal commentator constantly reminding him, “And here we have Victor, doubting his ability to be loved again—10 points for consistency!”

He struggles to believe that anyone could genuinely care for someone like him, especially given his arsenal of awkwardness and insecurities. Seriously, if self-deprecation were a sport, he’d have a gold medal and a sponsorship deal.

But here’s the thing: if you’re patient and reassuring, he’ll eventually start peeling back the layers of his fears. He might quietly admit to his scopophobia (fear of being stared at), his doubts about whether he’s even capable of forming meaningful relationships, or—prepare yourself for heartbreak—his lingering sadness over never receiving a letter addressed just to him. (Excuse me while I cry forever.)

When this happens, please, for the love of all that is good, don’t panic and start shouting affirmations at him like you’re his personal life coach. Victor thrives on calm, gentle reassurance, not pressure or raised voices. Your steady, quiet presence is like emotional chamomile tea to his frazzled soul.

Despite all his self-doubt, Victor is ridiculously perceptive about your emotions, even if he doesn’t always know what to do about them. He’s the kind of guy who notices you’re upset before you even realize it yourself.

Did you sigh a little too heavily or stare off into space for three seconds longer than usual? Victor clocked it. And while he might not be the type to launch into a grand speech about feelings, he’ll wordlessly show his care in his own way.

Maybe he’ll leave a single flower on your desk—no note, no explanation, just there, like a little whisper of “I see you.” Or, if he’s feeling extra sneaky, he might nudge Wick in your direction, because let’s be real: nothing cheers a person up like an adorable animal who’s clearly been coerced into playing emotional support.

One thing Victor absolutely loves is writing letters. And by love, I mean obsesses over to an absurd degree. His letters to you are the perfect blend of poetic and adorably clumsy, like he’s trying to pour his heart out but keeps tripping over the words.

One moment, you’ll be reading something surprisingly profound about how much he values your presence, and the next, you’ll find a sentence where he’s clearly panicked mid-thought and gone with something hilariously awkward. (“Your eyes remind me of… uh… really nice things!”)

But what makes these letters so special is how deeply personal they are.

They’re filled with gratitude for the quiet joy you bring into his life, written in a way that’s so uniquely him you can practically hear him fumbling through each line. Honestly, if love languages were mail-based, Victor would be your number-one postman.

Crowds and Victor go together about as well as oil and water—or Victor and social confidence. But if you casually mention liking something, prepare yourself, because this man will brave the seventh circle of hell (the local market) to get it for you.

Picture it: Victor, sweating bullets, weaving through bustling streets like a man on a mission, clutching his satchel like it’s a lifeline. He’ll return flustered but victorious, the prized item wrapped so carefully you’d think it was made of glass.

His face will be a mix of relief and pride, as if he’s just slain a dragon. (To be fair, for Victor, that is the equivalent.) Don’t be surprised if he brushes off your thanks with an awkward, “Oh, it was nothing,” while secretly hoping you’re impressed by his bravery. Spoiler alert: you should be.

Wick, Victor’s trusty dog, isn’t just a pet—he’s practically a third wheel in your relationship. And, honestly? It’s adorable.

Victor sees Wick as an extension of himself, so when Wick curls up in your lap or adorably gnaws at your shoelaces, that’s basically Victor saying, “I trust you with my soul, but, you know, through the dog.”

The moment you start caring for Wick—feeding him, petting him, or playing fetch—Victor’s heart practically bursts into a thousand sparkly pieces. Watching you with Wick is like watching someone hold a tiny, fluffy version of his heart in their hands. Wick’s antics aren’t just cute; they’re a whole bonding experience.

Honestly, at this point, the three of you are a family. Wick’s the child, Victor’s the awkwardly doting dad, and you’re the incredibly patient parent trying to keep them both in line.

Arguments with Victor are about as common as a solar eclipse: rare, slightly uncomfortable, and leaving everyone a bit disoriented afterward. Confrontation isn’t in his wheelhouse—if there’s tension, his first instinct is to retreat like a turtle into its shell.

If he’s hurt, he won’t blow up or yell; instead, he’ll quietly pull away, letting his mind run a marathon of overthinking. By the time you’ve moved on, he’s still replaying the argument on loop like a bad soap opera. But here’s the thing: Victor is ridiculously introspective.

Once he’s processed his emotions a process that may or may not involve pacing, Wick cuddles, and at least one existential crisis, he’ll write you a letter. And not just any letter—a heartfelt, soul-baring essay on what went wrong, why he feels the way he does, and how much he still values you.

Victor’s ultimate dream isn’t flashy—it’s not a yacht, a mansion, or a five-star lifestyle. No, in Victor’s perfect world, it’s just the two of you, Wick happily trotting at your heels, living your best life of ultimate domesticity.

No loud parties, no awkward small talk, just a quiet house with a cozy garden and maybe a suspiciously large collection of rocks Victor has insisted are “artistic.” The joy of daily routines—making tea, feeding stray animals, and Victor nervously handing you love letters he’s rewritten five times—is his idea of pure bliss. If this man ever proposes, it’s going to involve Wick wearing a bowtie and an “I woof you” sign, so brace yourself for maximum wholesome chaos.

One day, Victor might finally muster the courage to show you his favorite quiet spots. Each one has a backstory that’s equal parts sweet and painfully awkward.

There’s the meadow where he feeds stray animals because, of course, he’s secretly the neighborhood Dr. Dolittle. There’s the stream where he collects smooth stones, claiming they “help him think,” even though he’s just really bad at skipping rocks. And then there’s the old tree. Beneath its branches is a hollow stuffed with letters Victor was too shy to deliver as a teenager.

You’ll probably find one addressed to “That Kind Lady at the Bakery Who Smiled Once,” because he’s been like this forever. And if you’re really lucky, he’ll read one out loud, stammering through every word.

Over time, you become more than just his partner—you’re his anchor, his emotional life raft, and occasionally his human shield in crowds. While Victor still breaks into a cold sweat at the thought of socializing (his personal Mount Everest), your presence helps him step outside his comfort zone.

Maybe he’ll start saying “hello” to strangers instead of just nodding and looking at his feet, or—dare we dream—he’ll manage a full conversation without overanalyzing it later.

Knowing you’ll always have his back gives him the courage to face the terrifying world of small talk and eye contact. And when he’s feeling especially brave, he might even join you in a crowd without Wick acting as his emotional chaperone. Just don’t expect miracles—Victor’s still Victor, after all. But you love him either way, shy or not <3

CHRISTMAS BONUS

Yes, it’s his birthday, but it’s also Christmas, and let’s just say the holiday tends to hog the spotlight like a diva at center stage. While everyone’s busy decking the halls and roasting chestnuts, Victor’s birthday barely gets a whisper. Imagine being handed a gift as a kid and hearing, “This counts for Christmas and your birthday!”—traumatizing, honestly.

As an adult, he’s resigned himself to the overshadowed celebrations, but deep down, it still stings a little. But that’s where you come in.

If you acknowledge his birthday with a small, heartfelt gesture—a handwritten card, a bouquet of winter flowers, or even a slightly burnt homemade cookie—he’ll be so touched he might need to sit down. (Emotionally overwhelmed Victor is a sight to behold—think deer in headlights but with more blushing.)

On Christmas morning, Victor isn’t inside unwrapping presents or sipping cocoa by the fire like a normal person. Nope, he’s outside in the frosty dawn, feeding the stray animals, because of course he is.

When you join him, he won’t make a big deal about it, but his face will light up like a Christmas tree—albeit a very understated one. Without a word, he’ll pull out an extra scarf from his satchel and gently wrap it around your neck. If you thank him, he’ll just mumble something about it being cold, all while his ears turn red.

Wick, meanwhile, will be living his best life, barking like a lunatic and spinning around your feet in an uncoordinated display of canine excitement. Between the wagging tail, Victor’s shy smiles, and the soft crunch of snow underfoot, it’ll feel less like a Hallmark movie and more like a quiet, perfect slice of real life—the kind of moment Victor secretly dreams about but never dares to ask for.

Victor’s favorite part of the holidays isn’t the gifts he receives—it’s watching other people open theirs. Specifically, your gift. While you’re tearing into the wrapping paper, Victor is sitting there, looking like a bundle of nerves wrapped in a sweater, his amber eyes fixed on you with a mix of hope and terror.

His present is always something he’s put way too much thought into: a delicate trinket he made himself, like a pressed flower bookmark or a small wooden carving of you and Wick that probably took him hours. He’ll fidget like crazy as you look at it, practically sweating bullets, and then stammer out something like, “I-I wasn’t sure if you’d like it, but I thought, uh... maybe…”

Here’s the thing: you’d better say you love it. Not just “like it,” but full-on, scream-with-joy love it. Why? Because poor Victor will have spent approximately 400 sleepless nights agonizing over that gift. When you smile and tell him it’s perfect, he’ll just about melt into the couch with relief.

Externally, he’ll nod and mumble, “I’m glad,” like it’s no big deal, but internally, he’s bursting into a fireworks display so sparkly it could rival New Year’s Eve. Wick might sense the mood too and start barking happily, adding to the chaos.

In the evening, as the holiday buzz winds down, you and Victor find yourselves by the fire, sharing a quiet, intimate moment. He’s wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, and his hands are cradling a mug of tea that he’s barely touched because he’s too busy working up the courage to speak.

Finally, he starts recounting a few childhood Christmases. His voice is soft and hesitant, like he’s afraid the words might shatter if he says them too loudly. The stories themselves are simple—a handmade toy from a neighbor, the first time he saw snow—but his eyes glow with such quiet contentment that you can practically see the warmth of those memories written all over his face.

When the fire burns low, the two of you head out for a walk. Snow is falling in soft, lazy flakes, the kind that makes the world feel like it’s holding its breath. Wick, of course, is living it up, bounding ahead and occasionally stopping to sniff a suspicious patch of snow before darting off again.

Meanwhile, Victor stays close to you, his gloved hand brushing yours but never quite daring to hold it unless you make the first move. For once, he doesn’t feel the usual anxiety about being seen. The world could be watching, but with you beside him, it doesn’t matter. He feels safe, as though the snow-covered streets and the warmth of your presence are enough to shield him from everything else.

And if Wick comes barreling back mid-walk, absolutely covered in snow and looking absurdly pleased with himself, Victor might let out the softest laugh you’ve ever heard. It’s rare, like spotting a shooting star, and it fills the quiet evening air with a joy so pure you can’t help but smile.

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam!

I recently purchased a second hand bread machine, and I know you like to bake! (I got King Authur's Flour per your recommendation.) I was wondering if you have any recipes or tips and tricks for bread making? I don't have an oven in my apartment so sadly that's not an option for me 😔

Without an oven, a bread machine is a great acquisition! You can often also make rice, oatmeal, and sometimes even yogurt in a bread machine, depending on the model. If the machine didn't come with a manual, try googling for it, or googling the model name and "recipes" to see what else people have done with theirs. It's great you bought KA flour, because materials really do make the difference -- good flour and yeast are key. Freshness can matter with yeast so buy something with a long expiration date, and keep the yeast somewhere cool, dry, and dark.

For bread making, there are two main things I always think about: you are nurturing yeast, which is a living thing, and you're forming gluten (presumably, if you're not cooking gluten-free). The yeast wants to have food and be warm, so you want to use pretty warm water (most machine recipes say something very specific like 115-125F or similar, but it should be warmer than your skin and not so hot it hurts your skin, that's how I measure it). Sugar helps feed yeast, so often there will be sugar or honey in a recipe even if it's not a "sweet" bread. If you're using older yeast, adding a bit more sugar can help it work. Meanwhile, protein helps support gluten formation, so milk or milk powder are common ingredients often listed as optional but which are very helpful. If you have a stove, you can even make milk bread, which is one of the best, fluffiest kinds -- google "hokkaido milk bread" for recipes. Nearly any bread recipe that doesn't have a super long rise or need to be shaped can be made in a bread machine, but often (especially on the King Arthur site) a recipe will include special tips for adjusting it for a machine.

Specifically for bread machines, the bread can stay warm in the pan for a bit, but the longer it cools in the pan the more likely it is to form condensation, which leads to moisture on the surface of the crust in contact with the metal. That dries out pretty quickly if you leave it out for a bit, but moisture reduces the shelf life of homemade bread a LOT (moisture feeds mold). Your best bet is to remove the bread as soon as it's cool enough to handle -- it used to be the hardest part of making machine bread was getting it out of the damn pan, but they may have gotten better since I had one -- and wrap it in a tea towel or leave it out to cool completely before putting it in a package of some kind. I used to keep mine in the fridge because without preservatives it can mold quickly. These days most breads I bake included a few spoonfuls of King Arthur Bread and Cake Enhancer, which is a mild preservative and worth every penny -- it makes the bread softer, with better crumb, and it stays good for longer. There are other brands you can get cheaper on amazon, probably, but I've only ever used KA so I can't speak to their efficacy. It's generally not sold in stores.

Okay, two last things: one, I always put the bread machine on the floor when I was making bread in it, because it rocks back and forth a bit when kneading and I have had machines "walk" off the counter before. The floor or a wide table are best. Two, bread is difficult and even a machine for making it isn't perfect, so you may fail when you first start out. Even if you don't fail the first time, you may not get a good loaf at some point, and that's the nature of yeasted breads. Don't take it personally -- and don't give up! After a while, you start to notice if something seems "off" but it takes time to learn that sense.

Happy baking! I hope it goes well for you.

[nyxthejinx]

Answering to this desperate cry for help

Maaan this was so much fun fr, i hope I made these bad boys justice. Also, didn't know what kind of format I should be using and especially how to repost the original thing, since copying and pasting on the reblog would be absolute hell rip

𝐓𝐖: people biting each other but in an affectionate way, idk lemme know if there's more

𝐅𝐭.: Dottore, Xiao, Childe - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k (in total)

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: 3rd Made in Abyss soundtrack - Kevin Penkin (yes, it's that good, no comment)

𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

OHOO he's gonna be so intrigued by this weird habit of yours.

We all know he's not big on social interactions and all -he barely values human life- but when you came into the picture he felt invested in someone for the first time. Hence he observes... Normal people, to learn the basics.

He's smart, a quick learner. Will understand in no time your likes and dislikes, but one day you?? Bite him? Chomp like a feral newborn kitten? Oh, his scholar personality spikes through the roof.

Dottore's never seen anyone bite their partner like you do, it confuses him at first, although he won't say anything and just chuckle. He'd rather observe you and come to his own conclusions before asking.

Was it a one time thing? When, how and where do you like to do it? Is there a deeper meaning, a show of intimacy? Need for attention? Affection?

Yeah he'll treat it like a maths equation, that's how he is.

Some days you'd see him without his mask, leaning particularly close to your face. Other times he'd set his gloves aside and let his digits linger on your cheeks and jaw for every little thing. (He knows he’s difficult to bite because of his clothes)

"Oh Dear, look at your lips, they're chapped/full of crumbs/smeared with any other kind of food/every single excuse he can come up with."

It takes you a bit longer than you would've wanted, but you realise his true intentions eventually. If you feel smug you can just chomp on him randomly and see him lose his mind (he thought he'd figured everything out rip dottore.exe).

I advise against it though, he'd repay the torture tenfold. (aka not cuddle with you even if you ask nicely).

Overall, Dottore finds this habit of yours cute. You're a nice little, innocent thing in his eyes and that just adds to your charm.

Yeah you can be a 1.90m tall menace of a person and he'd still tease you, an arrogant, mean jerk >:(

After some time he starts biting you back (ouch shark teeth), not in a painful way ofc. He's so casual with it, most likely to strike when you least expect it just to see your surprised and/or flustered face.

Or to have you chomping in return, even ;)

I'd say 7.5/10, good chomping partner but will "fight" back.

𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨

My guy, poor guy.

He's another social inept, we all know why.

He started to learn about human customs after meeting you, and you've helped him out a lot, but he's still so stiff.

He probably gets a heart attack every time you give him a surprise hug. The day you chomp on him his soul leaves his body.

It's not that he's a scaredy cat, physical touch just overwhelms his senses if he's not prepared :((

Asks you to tell him beforehand next time.

But aside from that he doesn't seem to mind. He finds every human custom weird in a way, this one is no exception, and eventually it becomes routine yeah?

I think he's a perfect subject for chomping, with all the exposed skin he has. I mean, look at his shoulders! The urge to sneak up from behind and just CHOMP.

He's got muscles for days too, won't shatter your teeth on his bones. AND HIS CHEEKS- his baby cheeks, they look so soft how can you not bite those.

But yeah, just give him some time and he'll get used to this.

Xiao's not stupid either, he notices right away that you're the only human partaking in this activity, or in public at least. Lowkey feels happy and proud to have you as a partner, you're so special and unique :( <33

At some point he'll want to try it out as well, but he's sooo shy about it and a bit scared he'll hurt you. You gotta make him confess with bone crushing hugs.

When he eventually chomps back he's UGHH so soft with it. For Xiao it's more about the meaning and the bonding experience than the chomp itself.

9/10 if you're fine with doing all the chomping. 8/10 if you want chomps back, but definetly recommended.

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞

Run. RUN. RUN FOR YOUR CHEEKS' LIFE.

He is THE chomping menace.

Let me tell ya, you're putting your life on the line. It's like a declaration of war and he will not hesitate to respond with all he's got.

We know for a fact that he's always up for a challenge. If you're crazy enough to engage and bite him first, well I hope you have a survival plan for the rest of your life cus he won't stop.

It can and will escalate in a "fight" if you're in a private space (you know the tickle fights where you become a mess of tangled limbs? That.) If you try that in public though? He's gonna look at you like a damn predator.

He'll eat your cheeks once you get home, good luck.

His bites are rough-ish too, unfortunately for you. He’d never hurt you on purpose, and is always careful with his strength, but in the heat of battle he’ll forget; 7 times out of 10 you leave the field with a 32 teeth bite mark. 

I think he is more of a cheek guy than anything. They're always available and easy to reach, regardless of your height, and it's also so intimate because who else touches your face? No one, aside from him.

He's the chosen one.

And don't think it will stop at the first time, no no. You've unlocked a new hobby for him. He'll put so much effort in it, it's terrifying.

If you act surprised or flustered well, bonus points in his opinion. Your face is just priceless and will make a habit to make you react that way.

At that point you either fight back or succumb. His soft spots are his stomach (duh, nibble on the exposed skin when he's in his work clothes, I bet he's ticklish), his nape, collarbones and overall the base of his neck.

The rest of his body is still a good chomping surface, but his instincts kick in and his muscles go taut, it's like biting a rock and has no effect on him.

Childe will definitely give you a hard time. It's up to you to take advantage of the right moment and give him a good revenge chomp.

Honestly, he's my fave ever but I'll give him a 5/10 just because of that. Can't even bite the man in peace anymore 🙄

Do not translate/rewrite/repost/feed to AI ©2025 nyxthejinx

[inkyquince]

Sincerely, Bailey (Commission)

characters. Bailey. (Hinted Briar. And Harper is Bcc'd out of worry)

cw. implied drunken bailey. violence, both physical and sexual. angry emotional bailey. mentions of sex trafficking, Robin slander. dubious consent of treatment of pc.

notes. Letter Commission for PippyLI! Once again, SO sorry how long it took to get out, having to do IRL stuff for a year basically sucked. Hope you enjoyed angry emotional Bailey! Thank you! Sorry i was FIGHTING to get this into an email format but oh my god it wasn't working at all.

From: CaretakersForYourNeeds@ub.com 

To: thorns@ub.com

Subject: 50% off Paneling for your Home, 5 Star Reviews Draft

B, look over this draft before I send it. 

Hello Customer! 

We are having a big sale on our boys coming in and sprucing up your home! Spend over £250 on our service and we shall knock off £20 to a whole new paint job for a whole room! Then £10 off for every third room painted! Spend over £500 on our service and we shall install new radiators for half price! 

Enough of that. If your wife reads further than that paragraph of what’s an obvious spam email, she’s too stupid to to be alive. Get rid of her and stop wasting my time. 

This is more of a courtesy email about your inquiry into one of our selections, number 209. I’ve been the caretaker of numbers 191 to 220 for a long time, and I can personally attest that that product is not suited for what you’ve outlined you wish to do. I know on their file it recommends consumers should enjoy taming, sadism, bondage at most in order to get any use out of them. However, in my professional opinion, they should be taken off the list and left to the gropers and rapists wandering the town, and the customers at the brothel. 

In my personal experience, they would have benefited to be put directly into the brothel  or the farm right away. Give them hands-on experience immediately rather than wasting time making them make money by themselves. They started out very promising in the beginning, very malleable but have proven to be a nuisance to both myself and the people around them. Either that or be put permanently underneath my care to make sure minor annoyances are kept at a minimum. 

They refuse to behave, even under threat of assault or worse. I do not think that anyone other than myself could handle them. Now, before I get a complaint from you, no, it’s not because I’m their caretaker and have paternal feelings towards them. I’ve watched them get their cunt stretched out by strange cocks too much to care about if they have a good time having sex. I would be helping the public by keeping them under lock and key. 

So my counter offer will be to take their friend, #201 in return. A whiny crybaby who reacts well to sadism. Of course, you might have to deal with them trying to save the little shit, but we don’t cover fees to do with losing a product halfway through your paid time. Just a warning. For a price of 30% of your original payment I could keep them busy so there’s no chance of missing out on your full 12 hours of paid time. 

I would be prepared to spend those 12 hours showing them exactly what happens when you don’t listen the first time. I’ve noticed that they become pliant to a rough fuck the longer it goes on, if they’re allowed to bite and get a few scratches in. No better than a mewling beast once all their thoughts go to their clit. They also seem fixated on riling me up enough to drag them down and fuck them. With other’s they bite and scratch and use pepper spray (I have no idea where they keep getting these, the supply in town is very limited), but despite the threats of shipping them off to the brothel or to a close friend, they instead fight. But no, they don’t fight me in a coherent, normal way, no, they’re diving for my cock and trying to make me cum while I’m trying to teach them to pay their rent on time. 

They love it. They love angering me, they love going into my office, they love offering up their body for a “one time” extension, even though they keep doing it, no matter how many times I ruin them against my desk, their cunt gripping me so tightly. Maybe they have a fucked up crush, or maybe they’re just sick in the head. 

But I can’t get rid of them, they bring in so much mney that I can’t kick them out. They bring in rent, they keep the other little shits quiet and they’re so fuckin good at their job that I have insane fuckheads like you asking personally to request them. But who cares, they clamp around a cock disgustingly tight, they suck down cock like it’ll divorce them if they don’t and now I have to write this breakdown on why you can’t experience that at 3am and getting hard while I do it. I never fuck orphans but apparently they live to make my day miserable and start off with a double of vodka with no fuckin mixer. All because some fuck came in after being kicked in the dick by this little shithead and wanted his fucking money back. I have to write fucking disclaimers now. What the fuck. 10 years ago we didn’t have to do this shit. What do you mean I have to spend 12 hours of my day fucking this Bin Baby so that they won’t wander away and save the most annoying boy I’ve ever met? What the fuck. The other day I had to fucking jerk off to when they buried their face in my crotch and whined for my dick. If it was anyone else, I’d kick them in the crotch until they would have to go to hospital. 

I have no idea what fucking crack their mother was smoking before throwing them in the dumpster but now I’m stuck with a little asshole who loves my dick and won’t fucking behave. You want to fuck that? Try to and you won’t be fucking found. I will fucking wring that stupid addictive scent of their body, their cunt, out of your skin, and sell it to the nearest freak. You want Morgan wearing your fucking skin for touching them? I’ll take your teeth so no one will ever fucking find you, but who would care, your wife? The one who might read a spam email? And doesn’t care that your dick hasn’t worked except for when she shit out your crotch spawn? You think I won’t fuck you up for the sake of your kids who are older than my fucking orphan? 

Fuck you and your ugly fucking kids. 

Sincerely, 

Blailey

P.S briar should i also add that if you stick your thumb in their asshole they tighten up enough that i can see stars? that the first time i fucked them i fucking said that their body always belonged to me? and it fuckin was and still is. i should break their stupid little boyfriend’s nose for thinking they own that little slut. the smell of their shower wash is fuckin insane but it isnt. makes me want to fuck their thighs and make them walk around all day smelling of cum. briar who even is this stupid fuck. 

From: thorns@ub.com

To: me

Bcc: Harper@nhs.com

Subject: RE: 50% off Paneling for your Home, 5 Star Reviews Draft

An insane person wrote this. No client will buy anything after reading this. Stop it.

-B

P.S. you misspelled money, as well as your own name. How. Are you smoking something that you aren’t sharing with the class? Also have you ever even heard of an oxford comma? Eden was the drop out, not you.

P.P.S. Don’t punch kids. Also stop drinking. 

[levisolace]

cigarettes after dark — suguru geto x reader

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader summary: smoking outside the club, an old friend who drifted away, suguru, finds you and strikes up a conversation. genre: heavy angst. light comfort. modern au. word count: 3.1k warnings: heavily depressive thoughts. mentions a lot of smoking and quitting. mature themes.

note: completely a self-indulgent fic. it’s 2am and i can’t really think of another way to feel better unless to write it out. uploading this raw on my phone before i sleep so i’ll probably edit (maybe even delete) the post and re-format it tomorrow after work. idk if anyone will read this lol but here u go.

There was nothing to sugarcoat. This was it. You’re just another failure.

The puddle on the ground, a remnant of the rain that poured a few hours ago, reflects an image of a person that is foreign. Disgusted, you stare back at her with disdain.

You put the stick in your mouth, inhaling, and taking a long drag. The smoke curls around you like a cloak, shielding you from the chaos of the night. The bass from the club thumps faintly through the alley, vibrating the air but not quite reaching you. You exhale, watching the smoke dissipate into the cold, damp air, and for a fleeting moment, you feel like it could carry away everything you’ve been holding onto. But it doesn’t.

The reflection in the puddle shifts as you move, and you hate the way it looks back at you. Eyes heavy, makeup smudged, shoulders hunched like you’re trying to fold in on yourself. A version of you that you despise.

You take another drag, the heat from the cigarette warming your fingers as the nicotine buzz settles over your nerves. A voice in your head whispers that you should go back inside, but your legs don’t move. You can’t face the stares, the shallow laughs, or the weight of their questions.

“Got a spare?”

The voice is low, almost drowned out by the city noise. You glance up to see a figure standing a few feet away, their face obscured by shadow. For a moment, you’re too tired to answer. Wordlessly, you reach into your pocket and hold out your pack. He takes one, sliding it out with ease.

The man steps closer, just enough for the dim glow of the streetlight to catch their face—a mix of sharp edges softened by something you can’t quite name. They take the lighter you’re holding out from your hand with a quiet “Thanks,” lighting his cigarette with practiced ease.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Just two people standing in the dark, sharing silence and smoke.

“How long has it been?” It’s him who speaks first, staring out into the bright moon.

You don’t answer for a while, contemplating if you’ll answer him or just stay silent and hope that he’ll leave you alone. After almost a minute, you decide on the former.

“Dunno. Like 3 years?”

“Wrong, it’s been four.”

“Four, huh?” you murmur, the words tasting unfamiliar on your tongue, like the cigarette in your hand. You flick the ash off the end, watching it dissolve into the puddle at your feet. “Feels like longer.”

He hums, leaning against the wall beside you. The air between you is thick with unspoken history, but he doesn’t push it—at least, not yet. You risk a glance at him, expecting the same boy you once knew, but what you see makes you pause.

Suguru Geto looks good. Too good. His black hair, once always falling in messy waves across his face, is now neatly tied back. His clothes are clean, tailored even, and the sharp edges of his face, once softened by youthful recklessness, now hold a quiet confidence. He looks like someone who has his life together—like someone who doesn’t spend nights outside clubs, smoking to forget.

The contrast is almost unbearable.

His posture is relaxed, but there’s a tension in his voice when he speaks again. “Didn’t think I’d find you here. Like this.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He looks the same but not quite. Time has softened some of his edges and hardened others. The lines of his face are sharper, his frame broader, but there’s something familiar in the way he stands, hands in his pockets, like he’s trying not to take up too much space.

“And what’s this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you take a drag, trying to ignore how unnatural it still feels.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watches as you exhale a slow stream of smoke, watching it curl into the damp air. “You. Out here. Smoking.”

The words sting more than you care to admit. You glance at the glowing tip of your cigarette, suddenly hating the way it feels between your fingers. “People change,” you say, but your voice lacks conviction.

“Yeah, they do.” He pauses, turning to look at you fully. “But this isn’t you.”

You snort, a humorless sound that feels foreign even to you. “You don’t know me anymore.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his tone quiet but steady. “But I used to. And the girl I knew wouldn’t have touched a cigarette, let alone ended up outside some club at this hour.”

You roll your eyes, the defensiveness bubbling up despite yourself. “Well, the girl you knew is gone. Life happened. People grow up.”

“Ha…”

His reaction hangs in the air, heavy and unavoidable. You don’t answer right away, staring down at the puddle again. The reflection staring back at you is a stranger, a reminder of all the ways you’ve tried to erase the person you used to be.

“You don’t get to judge me,” you say finally, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I’m not judging you,” he replies softly. “I just… I thought you’d have more faith in yourself than this.”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Faith doesn’t get you very far these days.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The sounds of the city fill the silence: the faint bassline from the club, the hum of passing cars, the drip of water from the gutter overhead.

“I thought about calling you,” he says suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. “A lot, actually. But I don’t know why I didn’t. I thought—.”

“Thought what?” you reply, crushing the cigarette under your heel.

He chuckles, though it’s void of humor. “That you’d be better off without me.”

The words hit harder than you expect. You glance at him again, searching his face for pity, disappointment, anything—but all you see is regret.

“Why now?” you ask the question quieter than you meant it to be.

Why approach me now? is what you wanted to ask. You couldn’t get yourself to ask him directly but as if he knows you like the back of his hand, he answers the question.

“Because I saw you,” he says simply. “And I didn’t want to walk away this time.”

The honesty in his voice disarms you, cutting through the walls you’ve spent so long building. You look away, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze.

“Maybe you should have,” you murmur, but your voice wavers, betraying the truth. And from the way he stays, you think he knows it, too.

He stayed silent as if he’s debating what to say. He looks like he wants to comfort you—or terribly ask what happened to you. Either way, you know that he can’t do it. He can’t get himself to open your wounds up so suddenly when it looks like it’s eating you alive.

For a while, neither of you says anything. The muffled bassline from the club fills the silence, blending with the distant hum of traffic. You sneak another glance at him, and that’s when you notice it—the cigarette in his hand, he hasn’t smoked it once.

The cigarette dangles between his fingers, the faint glow of the ember a stark contrast to the cold night air. He doesn’t bring it to his lips, doesn’t inhale. He just… holds it.

“You’re not smoking,” you say, your voice cutting through the quiet.

He glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s amused. “Nope.”

“Then why the hell did you ask for one?”

He shrugs, twirling the cigarette between his fingers. “Felt like the easiest way to approach you.”

You glare at him, annoyed at his nonchalance. “You’re wasting it.”

“Not really.” He flicks the ash with a practiced motion, his gaze never leaving yours. “I quit years ago.”

The revelation catches you off guard. “Then why light it at all?”

He exhales—not smoke, just a slow breath—and leans back against the wall, looking up at the faint glow of the moon. “I guess…” He pauses, turning the lit cigarette in his hand, his voice softening. “I wanted to remember what it felt like. Holding this. Being here. With you.”

You flinch, the memory hitting like a slap. Back then, Suguru was the wild one—the one who always seemed to have a cigarette tucked in his fingers or a flask hidden in his jacket. You were the good one, the one who didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t step a toe out of line. You used to lecture him about taking care of himself, about how much potential he was wasting. And now? Now you’re the one standing in an alley with a cigarette in hand, trying to feel something other than regret.

“Guess the roles are reversed, huh?” you say with a forced chuckle, gesturing at him with the glowing tip of your cigarette. “Look at you. Clean, polished.”

You glance down at your cigarette, suddenly hating the way it tastes, the way it feels in your hand.

“Why’d you quit?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

He smiles faintly, looking down at the cigarette in his hand. “Mm… I didn’t want it controlling me anymore. Felt like every bad decision I made started with one of these.” He twirls the cigarette between his fingers, a ghost of the habit he once had.

“Good for you,” you mutter, rolling your eyes a little. You can’t help it. You were jealous.

“What about you?” he asks this time, turning to look at you. “When did you start?”

The question makes your stomach twist, but you shrug it off, exhaling a stream of smoke. “A while ago. Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he says, his tone calm but insistent. “You used to give me so much crap for this.” He gestures vaguely with the cigarette, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “What changed?”

You hesitate, the words caught in your throat. What changed? Life? Disappointment? Somewhere along the line, the lines you swore you’d never cross blurred until you didn’t recognize them—or yourself. If Suguru’s bad decision started with the stick in your hand, yours ended with it. Every bad decision you made piled up and up until all you could do was punish yourself in many ways possible. That included this… stupid addiction.

Failure—that’s what you are. And failures… they’re just that.

“Life. Me. You know how it is. One wrong decision after another and next thing you know, you’re exactly the disappointment you fear you’d be.”

“Hm,” he agrees, tilting his head slightly like he doesn’t agree with you.

You roll your eyes, the defensiveness bubbling up. You know what he’s thinking. “You don’t know me anymore, Suguru.”

“No,” he admits, his voice soft but steady. “But I don’t think you’re as far gone as you think.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and unwelcome. You glare at the ground, crushing the cigarette under your heel with more force than necessary.

“Cut the bullshit,” you snap. “I don’t need your words of wisdom.”

Suguru sighs, flicking his own cigarette into the puddle. It hisses softly, the ember extinguished, and he turns to face you fully. “I’m not trying to do anything,” he says quietly. “But I know you don’t need this.”

The honesty in his voice makes something in your chest tighten, and for a moment, you want to tell him to leave. To stop looking at you like you’re someone worth saving.

But he doesn’t push. He just stands there, hands in his pockets, like he’s waiting for you to let him in.

A new cigarette burns low between your fingers, the smoke curling up into the night air like a ghost of something you can’t name. Suguru stands beside you, quiet now, the silence between you stretching long and thin. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, but he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he senses you don’t want him to.

The stillness lets your thoughts slip in, unwelcome and relentless.

You think about her—the girl you used to be. The one who would have hated to see you like this. That girl had big dreams and bigger expectations from herself and everyone around her. She thought she could take on the world, carve out a future she’d be proud of. Back then, it felt possible.

But somewhere along the line, it all unraveled.

One bad decision led to another. You chose the wrong major, convinced yourself it would work out. It didn’t. Classes you thought you could handle became impossible to pass. Graduation came late, dragging with it the weight of disappointment. Every failure piled up until it felt like they were suffocating you. It suffocated you until even doing the smallest tasks took too much of your positive energy.

There was so much anger and hatred for yourself that it was either you pull away from everyone… or you’ll have to see them disappointed in you. You chose the former everytime. And that’s why you failed at every aspect of life. Career, friends, family… love. All you feel now is an emptiness that is both heavy and light. Heavy in emotions. Light in meaningful weight.

Everything that was good about you was taken away from you. It’s like someone’s out to get you. It’s like someone’s punishing you to forever be painfully mediocre. Never good. Never bad. God, you feel like a non-playable character in your own life, watching yourself try and try over and over again but it’s like you’re destined to not be somebody. Not somebody’s best coworker. Not somebody’s best daughter. Not somebody’s best friend. Not somebody’s girlfriend. It’s like you’re cursed to not be able to hold on to something that makes you feel good.

You drag on the cigarette, the bitterness of it filling your lungs, but it doesn’t quiet the ache.

If you could go back, maybe you’d say sorry to her—the little girl who dreamed of being someone better, someone whole. She didn’t deserve this. You’d tell her you tried. You really did. But the truth is, deep down, even back then, there was a voice whispering you’d never make it.

That voice had always been there. Back then, you fought it. You told yourself it was wrong. But it had patience. It waited.

And now it’s winning.

The cigarette trembles in your fingers, the smoke curling upward in erratic spirals. You bite your lip, trying to steady your breathing, but it’s no use. The weight pressing on your chest grows heavier, like it’s trying to crush you entirely.

You exhale slowly, staring at the faint glow of the streetlight reflected in the puddle at your feet. For a moment, it feels like you’re staring at her, that little girl that Suguru knew, looking back at you with all her bright-eyed hope and wonder. You wonder what she’d say if she could see you now.

“You’re quiet,” Suguru says, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

You glance at him, startled, and realize how long the silence has stretched. “Yeah,” you mutter, flicking ash off the cigarette. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important.”

He doesn’t believe you—you can see it in the way his brows knit together, the way he studies you like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. But he doesn’t press.

“You know,” he says softly, “quitting wasn’t easy for me.”

You raise a brow, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking what was left of the cigarette in your hand. “There were a lot of nights I thought about lighting one up. Not because I wanted to, but because it felt like I needed to. Like it was the only thing that made the rest of the world shut up for a bit.”

His words hit closer to home than you’d like. You look away, staring down at your own cigarette, now burned to the filter in his hand. “And what changed?”

Suguru shrugs, his gaze steady. “I realized it wasn’t fixing anything. It was just… giving me an excuse not to.”

You don’t say anything, but his words settle uncomfortably in your chest. He crushes the cigarette under his heel.

“You can still fight it,” he says after a moment, his tone soft but unwavering. “Whatever it is. You don’t have to let it win.”

You scoff, but it lacks conviction. “It’s not that easy.”

“I never said it was.” He shrugs, tucking his hands inside his pockets.

You don’t respond, the weight of his words mingling with the lingering taste of smoke in your mouth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, that voice still whispers, still taunts. But for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t feel quite so loud. Maybe it’s his presence, steady and familiar, or maybe it’s just the faintest flicker of hope. Either way, you don’t feel entirely alone. Not tonight.

You feel it before you even realize it’s happening—a tear slipping down your cheek, warm and unwelcome. You quickly turn your face away from Suguru, staring hard at the ground.

He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his gaze, calm and steady, like he’s waiting for you to say something first.

Another tear falls, then another, and before you know it, your shoulders are trembling as the quiet sobs escape you. You clench your jaw, swallowing hard, trying to hold it in, but it’s like a dam has broken.

Suguru shifts slightly, the faint sound of his shoes scuffing against the wet pavement. “Hey…” he says softly, his voice low and tentative.

You don’t respond. You can’t. If you open your mouth, you’re afraid you’ll break completely.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache even more. “If I said something to—”

“No,” you manage to choke out, cutting him off. Your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Just… no.”

He doesn’t press further. He just stays there, silent and steady, his presence grounding in a way you didn’t expect.

Your tears fall freely now, mixing with the remnants of rain on the ground. You haven’t cried in front of anybody in so long. And yet, here you are, crying to some guy who was practically a stranger to you for four years.

“I ruined everything,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Suguru shifts again, and this time, you feel his hand hover near your shoulder before settling there gently. His touch is warm, reassuring. Without a word, you lean in, wrapping your arms around him. He hugs you back with one arm, his hand on your head as he pulls you into his chest. You haven’t been held in so long. You’ve slept so many sleepless nights alone, wondering if the warmth of another person would make you feel better. It never did, not like Suguru’s.

The weight of his words settles in your chest, heavy but not unbearable. You don’t know exactly how this night came to be, but for the first time in a long while, the thought of waking up another day doesn’t feel entirely impossible.

Suguru stays quiet after that, his hand still caressing your hair, offering silent reassurance. He doesn’t try to push you further or tell you everything will be okay. He just stays, letting you cry, letting you feel.

And for now, that’s enough.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. reblogs, asks, and comments are also greatly appreciated. thank you.

[spicyclover]

In a haze

Summary : In the car, there are millions of thoughts that pass one after the other. The brain accumulates and releases at hundredths of a second all the information we need to be good drivers. However, sometimes it happens that the information never comes back and we are lost in this infinite mist.

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING : mention of crash | lose of consciousness

The humidity is at its peak. Singapore is really one of the most physical races. The overwhelming and stifling heat prevents the brain from accumulating air properly. I already regret leaving the refrigerated hospitality to join the garage. I meet some fans on my way and I stop to take some pictures.

I am quickly escorted out of the crowd. I run to join the others to start the parade. I regroup with the two Ferraris and Max who discuss qualifications. I am P8. I could have had more, but a moment of distraction made me lose seconds in a corner. I smile at Charles and shake Carlos’s hand. I'm sweating in my team gear, it's really the worst. The Ferraris boys are not better, Charles is red as a tomato and Carlos look like he's going faint any second.

In the distance, I see Daniel. He is in a corner, his headphones on his ears. He has his face of concentration. He's cute, makes him look more serious. Since the beginning of the year, he hasn’t smiled as much. He’s not the same as before. He gradually realizes that his days are numbered in this sport and it scares him. I understand that feeling. I am the only woman on the grid and at my first mistake, I have a horde of men wanting to replace me with their macho and sexist criticism. Daniel raises his head and crosses my eyes. A smile expands on my lips and he seems to relax.

With the parade over, I return to the garage for the final preparations. I visualize the race in my head. I review the turns, the areas of acceleration, the areas of deceleration. I calculate the pressure of my tires and I look at the temperature one last time during the race. Filling my brain with all this information helps me not to be overwhelmed by pressure. I relativize and focus on the fact by what can happen.

It’s already time to get in the car. As always, the pressure goes up and I feel like my head is going to explode. I get in the car. I put my helmet on. When the helmet goes on my head, I no longer calculate what’s around me. Everything around me gets foggy and only my car counts. I hear my engineer in my ear and listen to the instructions.

The journalists and the teams leave the track. The crowd is on fire. I allow myself to look around. Oscar is on my right at P7. Lando is P6 ahead of me. Behind me is Daniel P10. The light turns red and the formation round begins. Max starts the pace. I warm up my tires and check my brakes one last time. I barely have time to think that the finish line is in front of me again. I install the single-seater in my starting lines and I prepare myself.

One. My pulse begin to quicken. Two. I'll move faster and faster, the fan roaring beside me. Three. My thoughts begin to wash away in a cloud of wind and dust. Four. The crowd thunders. Five.

My hands release the brake and I press the accelerator. The first corner comes quickly. I find my line among all the cars and I concentrate. The first few cars slow down and I’m right behind. I start turning the wheel. The next few seconds freeze in time. My brain tries to interpret what is happening before my eyes, but I can’t. I feel the back of my car rising in the air. In a straight perpendicular line, all I see is black and white asphalt. I let go of the steering wheel and the barrels start. My body is wandered from left to right in the car and I try to maintain myself. All this happens in seconds before I crash into the security fence.

I hear his laugh. I look up and he is in front of me, his smile bigger than the sun. I chuckle before I tongue him. I get up and start running to the ocean. He rushes after me. I peek behind me and he’s already behind.

"It’s not fair," I said, with a sulky pout. "You’re faster than me." He grabs my face in his gigantic hands and kisses me. I try to resist, but these kisses are magical that I can’t keep acting. I surrender to these lips.

"I am a high performance athlete, athletes speed." I laugh and I push him away a little. He loses balance and leads me to his fall. The fine sand is quickly encountered and my eyes get lost in his. I remove some rebellious streaks from his face. He meddles his fingers between my hair and he passes them behind my ears. "You’re beautiful." I pouffe before I kiss his lips again to silence him.

I’m back in the car. I fainted. Oh no, I lost consciousness. My vision is blurry and my ears are ringing. I try to straighten my head to look around, but I can’t. I feel like my heart is in my brain. It’s pounding and I can barely breathe. I feel a hand on my shoulder, but I can’t react. Gradually my vision darkened again.

"I don’t want us to hide anymore," whispers Daniel.

The night is cool and we’re in our hotel room in Los Angeles. This is the first time that we meet after weeks of meeting at the bend of an evening or a race. We have been living in this secret relationship for a few months now and I must admit that it is happiness. I like to find it even for a few moments, but it is true that with each separation, they become harder. I smile as I relax my head.

"We have no choice." I say, slowly fading away in my sleep.

And it’s true, we are stuck in this spiral of PR. Being the only woman on the track, I have to be attractive to the male fans. A girl in a relationship is not interesting. I hate every day since this phrase came out of my manager’s mouth. What do I give a shit about male fans? I’m not there for them, or thanks to them. I long to make a big finger in all this, but the more I think about the consequence and the more it scares me.

I am transported out of my car, I distinguish the lights of paramedics who check the dilation of my pupils. I blink and red and white flashes pass in front of my eyes. The ambulance. My helmet was removed. I don’t remember much. They talk to me, but I can’t tell the words. Everything is confusing. Yet, this hand I know. It’s his. Daniel. My eyes are frantically searching around me and I finally see him. He too has crashed. I don’t have time to think more than the paramedic pulls it out of my hand and takes me in the ambulance to the nearest hospital.

The hours that follow are a perpetual blur. I get lost in the dozens of exams and questions I am asked. I answer as best I can, but I get tired and I ask him to be beside me. I whisper his name between my lips. Many hours have passed. My senses come back little by little and I hear again the noises that surround me. I hear the beep of the machines, I hear the nurses who pass by the door of my room. I hear the television on, but I can’t understand the words. Most importantly, I hear his voice. He’s there with me. I painfully open my eyes. In the first place, everything is blurred. I can only see the light, but very quickly my vision clears and I can look at his face.

"I am so sorry, my love. I am terribly sorry." He whispers repeatedly, my hand in his.

"Hey, stranger." I say in a hoarse voice. I feel like I’ve been smoking for forty years with that voice.

"Y/n!" He cries while looking up. "You are awake."

"You didn’t think you’d get rid of me like that." I said with a laugh. I try to move to get up, but my body hurts. I moan and Daniel looks at me worried. "What happened?"

"We crashed into each other… I ran into you by accident. The car behind me didn’t brake and I was right in your corner. You rolled, I thought I’d lose you." He chokes a sob before he takes over." You landed in the safety gate and the race was paused for a long time. I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t go on without knowing if you were okay." He caresses my hair tenderly. I feel the pain in his voice and it hurts me.

"You disqualified yourself for me?"

"For you? Always." I smile and reach for him. I grab the top of his neck and our lips meet. Our kiss lasts a few minutes. We enjoy the present moment and the presence of the other. "Just to let you know, but I may have told everyone about our relationship and the media is crazy about it."

"What?" I write to myself as I step aside. What did he do? He didn’t… Oh no!

"We’ll talk later." He kisses me again with a smile. "You need to rest and heal."

"Dan…" I try to argue, but he won’t let me continue.

[furuyalover]

Hello welcome back! I'd like to request relationship headcannons with kuro,oikawa and sugawara (separately) with a male reader who's more quiet and reserved that some people think is mean looking but in reality is just a softy that loves cute things. For the song I'd like to request super shy by new jeans.

super shy ! | mars & her music event

“wait a minute i make you mine, make you mine”

— ft. kuroo tetsurou & oikawa tooru x male!reader

AN: ahh ty for ur request!! this was rlly fun & something new for me since i dont listen to kpop that often :)) hope u enjoy! also im trying this new-ish format out so lmk if u prefer this or my usual longer, drabble styled format :D

kuroo tetsurou

the dynamic between you & kuroo is one that i feel like is awfully similar to kuroo & tsukishima! a semi-obnoxious goofball and a quiet, mean looking guy, who is secretly a lover boy.

“you're on my mind all the time”

needless to say people were very surprised to find out you were dating kuroo

“kuroo’s dating him? i never would’ve thought of pairing, he doesn’t seem like he likes people, even more so relationship sort of guy you know?”

the comments your peers made were bothersome at first but you and kuroo both ignored them

all that really mattered was how much you guys loved each other, so who cares what they think

but knowing kuroo, that won’t stop him from making a snarky comment to shut them up

“obviously im dating him hello? you’re all just jealous that he actually enjoys my company, and not that of a bunch of losers” kuroo was always convinced everyone was jealous that he got to be with you

regardless, you would also roll your eyes and half heartedly apologize for his comments

definitely a huuuuge physical touch and acts of service typa guy

this would always be perfect, since you weren’t the biggest fan of going out, & even just laying together in bed was good enough to be a date for you two

he absolutely loves cuddling with you, and makes it a point to always be touching you when you’re out in public

whether it be having his arm laying atop your shoulder, or rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand while your fingers are intertwined, he always needs you with him.

“i wanna tell you, but im super shy, super shy”

normally you’re quiet around others and kuroo knows this, but you’re more talkative with him and he loves it.

he takes in every word you say and relishes in it.

and one thing about kuroo, he will remember EVERYTHING you talk about or mention

did you briefly mention a new snack you wanna try? you better believe tomorrow you’ll be greated with that on your kitchen counter

that’s just the kind of guy kuroo is. despite his goofy personality, he’s extremely caring and observant. he’ll always do everything in his power to make you feel loved, even the little things. especially the little things really. he believes that these small things are truly what shows how much he cares, without being outwardly affectionate, because he knows how much they make your day. while he won’t hesitate to scream and shout his love for you, he’s a big fan of the quiet type of love that you’re more receptive to. that’s your type of love, with your tetsurou.

oikawa tooru

“find a lil' spot, just sit and talk. looking pretty, follow me”

you honestly found it surprising when you and oikawa started dating, you didn’t think he would be interested in someone like you considering his fan club. but unfortunately the fan club felt the same way.

you really could care less about his fan club though. making sure to constantly roll your eyes at them, and show them your cold attitude

this ofc made them say things like “how could oikawa like him??? he’s actually so mean”

but this didn’t matter !! because behind closed doors you’re a lover boy & oikawa knows that

oikawa is a major quality time and words of affirmation proprietor when it comes to showing his love to you. he’ll do anything with you, as long as it means you guys are together & he gets to be with you

will always always thank you and show his appreciation after every one of his games you go to

if you’re ever feeling down about yourself or his fan club/admirers are giving you a hard time, he won’t hesitate to tell them off & give you reassurance

“you know you’re amazing right? don’t listen to what anyone says, you’re my whole world, and i see every aspect of my life with you” it’s crazy because he’ll can stuff like this so lovingly and casually, like it doesn’t make you choke up

“i'm super shy, super shy. but wait a minute while i make you mine, make you mine

i have a headcanon that oikawa is actually a big poetry fan, and he will send you poems almost daily that remind him of you

tooru looooves to show you off !! even though you’re somewhat stoic and aren’t publicly lovey-dovey with him, he won’t skip a beat to show you off or mention you any chance he gets

you’re the last person he’ll talk to before a game, demanding good luck hugs & kisses, and the first person he runs to after a game. whether he won or lost, it doesn’t matter because he’s just thankful that you were here with him

though he’s aware of his huge club of admirers and how much of a toll they can take on the both of you, he’ll never give them any attention outside of just being polite. because at the end of the day they don’t matter to him, you do. waking up to you every morning, telling you how glad he is to have you in his life, spending hours on end talking about nothing and everything, this is the life you live being in love with tooru oikawa.

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