#i like the rhythm game aspect

[cptnghoulowl]

I had a weird moral dilemma thing going for a minute where I was feeling weird about writing prsk fanfiction, but then I remembered I write stories about people in school all the time (unfortunately, because there's not enough media out there that I like that has college/adult leads that I actively want to write fanfiction for).

And then I also remember that nothing matters and aging up characters exists so anyway who likes AnHane I'm writing AnHane they are very gay and cute and I'm a little obsessed

[wavetapper]

propaganda

[faunabel]

i finally got around to playing project sekai yesterday (which ive had on my phone for like. over a year and never got properly into) and its kind of confusing 😭 why are there so many different currencies. why are there fifty million things i can hit on the ui? why r there so many things i can buy. WHO ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE THE GAME EXPECTS ME TO ALREADY BE ACQUAINTED WITH.

im sure ill figure it out eventually. probably very slowly. im just here to tap buttons ok. the amount of stuff is overwhelming. there r so many characters?? with alternate forms?? and so many character stats?? i already maxed out the group i got to level 20 somehow too so ig i have to do something to fix that

[quirkle2]

as a huge spyro year of the dragon fan i Hate the reignited trilogy they took all the charm and nostalgia out of it BUT ... spyro's walking/running animation ? they perfected that.

[transsweet]

some fuckers from last night . i promise i was gonna draw them all together in love but i was eepy .

[gifti3]

Nightbringer should have completely changed the mechanics of the game

[knightzp]

so today i went to an arcade and there was this kind of rhythm game machine and i of Course had to try it. turns out playing enstars everyday for more than a year now actually pays off bc i was easily the one who better did it from my friends and my result even got into the top 10 of the game

[rhythmgamer]

I'm sorry mutuals objectively i like Phigros more than Enstars do you still like me

(sort of explanation in tags? (aka me just talking about rhythm games))

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

games in megamix that are way too strict scoring-wise (as far as the number you get): glee club (esp the prequel). exhibition match. tongue lashing. sneaky spirits. ninja bodyguard. freeze frame. bouncy road. i do not like star land-

[rubyrhythmposts-archive]

What in the world...

Okay so for context: I was playing Pretty U to clear daily missions. And I had like 3 Goods and 1 Miss. And I figured "yeah, par for the course" and obviously didn't take a screenshot of those results (because why would I unless it's a full combo).

BUT. Apparently that still counted as Perfect Hits??? I guess it's a bug considering that that definitely shouldn't happen. But I recently had this happen with Fear too. Even though I tried fc-ing Fear for ages and just 1 Good would screw me over. And a long time ago that happened with Hot too.

I mean I guess I can't complain considering I did kind of get those shiny gold badges handed to me for free. But it just doesn't sit right with me that I didn't genuinely get a full combo on those songs.

[wavetapper]

slay

[ji-lixie]

what happened in the new update??

so basically while i saw a few people say rhythm hive used to be integrated group-wise (i cant confirm/deny that, so i'm taking them at their word--i only started playing when svt was added), it went from being the four separate groups to being like... All Of Them together. no switching between groups (which imo wasnt even tht big of a hassle as someone who started playing for txt alongside svt a few months ago), they're just all together and also you can pull cards for literally All Groups now. so you could literally be playing for like... only bts, and pull an XR for enhypen, and so forth. like, i popped back in to check and there's no way to Only pull cards for a single group now--the card shop states you can only pull for all groups. if you're a multi fan, then i guess that part of the update isnt so bad, but i've seen So many people who only play for one group that don't want cards for other groups since they have no intention of playing those songs.

aside from that, they did a complete overhaul of how songs play. i'm not a game designer, so my knowledge is limited to just what i know as a person who, yknow, plays games, but i feel like the game doesn't give you any kind of time to react when you play? even when you slow down the rate that notes come at you, it feels like they speed up once they get to where you're supposed to hit them. it makes it kinda harder to hit them if ur like me and prefer the harder modes (like i stopped playing easy/normal within months of playing bc i like the challenge of hard mode + max speed). they've also implemented something i've seen in the superstar games where you only have so many notes you can miss before you fail. i think it works better in the superstar games because you don't play the full song in those, just short segments--whereas rhythm hive gives you the option to toggle between playing a full song or playing a short segment. having a health bar, essentially, basically makes it harder to learn a song all the way through. i used to play the chapters for svt before i hit roadblocks, but being able to play through the entire thing helped me get better and get through the harder chapters, y'know? having only so many hits makes it way more frustrating for someone trying to learn the song. games can be challenging, but they still have to be fun, yknow?

also ik it happened to other ppl but uh. i went from being like... level 50-something (maybe higher--im blanking) to being level 16 after the update. it was super jarring and im not sure if they explained why that is--i'd have to go looking.

UR cards don't rly mean shit anymore imo. i and a lot of other ppl on twt who play also expressed frustration that the scoring system seems way more confusing. ive accumulated a ton of cards over the past year to the point where i've hit all XRs for a couple themes in svt, and uh... i barely made an A rank on a song despite that and playing pretty decently throughout the song? like i didnt miss any notes and i still didn't rank that high when i finished the song. i've other ppl have questioned how you're supposed to score super high when they've got way better cards than me bc they've mixed theirs to get the better ones.

also minor thing because you can turn it off, but they did make it on by default that you hear this annoying sound whenever you hit notes in the game. took me back to when i used to play other games and while not awful, it's not what i rly enjoyed. you can turn that off tho, so minor points for that, and i'll admit that the UI is kinda pretty. i miss the old thing, but it doesn't look awful. cards def looked better in the old version tho, i miss how sparkly they were. they just feel kinda boring now.

tl;dr: you can't pull cards for a single group anymore, the scoring system makes sense + they ruined the gameplay by changing it up & adding a health bar system so you have limited misses before you have to restart entirely (or continue playing by paying gems, fuck that noise) + bad default noise that you Can turn off but why did they even put it in the game.

it doesn't feel like someone play tested it tbh like i'm sure Someone would have said "this feels bad to play" in some form. ive only seen a single person enjoy the update, and its purely bc they can trade in cards n whatnot. everyone else i've seen has been pissed to the point of either just saying "i'm done unless they revert it back" or calling other ppl to fully boycott it since its like... a major downgrade in quality.

(also ive seen ppl missing superstar bts and yknow what, cant blame em. superstar games are solid. i have my own gripes with certain aspects of them, but its exclusive to a single game out of the two i play haha)

smaller text bc this got long sorry!!

[revasserium]

to win and to lose

kenma, tsukki, hinata, kageyama; 3,200 words; fluff, lapslock, no "y/n", kissing, slightly!suggestive content, but mostly just tooth-rotting fluff, domestic bliss, post!timeskip characters, pro-streamer!kenma, olympics athlete!hinata, pouty!tsukki, and needy!kageyama

summary: you win some, you lose some, right?

a/n: truly just a few drabbles that came to my mind when i was sitting in a bath the other day; so pls enjoy some hq-flavored domesticity

kenma

“— alright chat, that’s it for today — i’ve got uh —” kenma glances over at the top of his collection of monitors at where you’re standing, holding two beers, a sly grin twisting the corner of your mouth. even in the strange blue light of his monitors, you can see his cheeks darken.

“— some stuff to do. see ya!” he ends the stream just as you round the massive table to set a beer down in front of him. he chuckles and reaches out to pull you into his lap, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a sigh.

“hey there, mr. ceo.” you smirk, twisting round to run your fingers through his hair, tugging out the loosening hair tie and cocking your head. kenma huffs, crinkling his nose, shaking his head as you continue to comb through his hair with your fingers.

“i hate it when you call me that.”

“mm, then… what would you prefer? mr… streamer boy? mr. stock trader? oh — i’ve got it! mr. simp-man.”

kenma scoffs, jerking forward so that you’re trapped against the hard edge of his gaming desk, his arms locking you to him. he’s grown since high school, but even so, his lithe build betrays the strength still hidden within his limbs from the endless hours of training, of playing.

“there’s no winning against you, is there?” he asks, his voice muffled by your skin, and you bite back a groan at the way he’s trailing his lips along the hard ridge of your collarbones. he peers up at you, a sharp, feline glint to his eyes, a hand reaching out to set your half-drunk beer on his table before hoisting you up with one arm. you squeak, the gesture taking you by surprise even as he carries you to the futon set up in strategically in the corner of the game room, put there for the nights when you’d lie there and watch him stream, when you’d close your eyes and let the rgb lights flicker across the backs of your eyelids like the northern lights, like so many midnight rainbows.

“well… seeing as you’re winning in so many other aspects in life,” you say, your voice nothing more than a sigh as he lays you down, fingers already tugging at the thin straps of your dress, “a little losing here and there might do you good, hm?”

“mm…” kenma hums, contemplative, even as he leans back and runs an appraising eye down the length of your body, “i mean… i did let kuroo talk me into joining the volleyball club back in highschool so… i guess you can say… in my own way… i’m sort of a sucker for punishment.”

tsukki.

“ah… that looked like a brutal practice,” you say, peering around the bathroom door. the sound of water splattering down skin echoes wetly through the enclosed space.

“aren’t they all?” tsukishima drawls, setting down the large wooden bath ladle to squint at you through the hazy mist. his glasses lie fogged and forgotten, set to the side.

you smile, slipping into the room with a fresh towel.

“i’ve got miso soup being warmed on the stove and an icepack in the freezer. take your time though — o-oh!”

a pair of arms reaches out to pull you down, and you barely catch yourself on the edge of the large wooden bath.

“t-tsukki! what —”

“it was a brutal practice.”

you barely hear the smirk in his voice as he sighs and props his chin on your thigh, the water from the bath staining you thin dress in seconds. you fight the urge the roll your eyes, reaching down to run your fingers through his damp hair, absently massaging at his scalp.

its rare to see him like this — rarer, even, to see him so openly vulnerable, even if there’s still the barest hint of a tease lurking beneath the tired rhythm of his voice, his breathing. like this, his long lashes are daggered into points by the steam, his normally pale skin made even more so by the bright bathroom lights.

through the water, you can see the new bruises blossoming along his thin legs, the old ones barely fading. thoughtlessly, you lean in and dip your hand in the water to trace a finger along one particularly large one at his right knee.

“what happened?” you ask, though you basically already know the answer — practice for a v2 league team happened. still, tsukishima glances down at the bruise with an oddly disembodied gaze and shrugs.

“dunno. dove to save a ball a few times.”

you laugh, tilting your head to one side as he leans back to press his cheek to your now damp thigh.

“wow, in practice? other team must’ve really pissed you off.”

at this, tsukishima crinkles his nose and scoffs. you hike an expectant eyebrow and wait.

“the jackals were over for a practice match.” his voice is clipped, but you feel your own laughter bubbling up in seconds. of course.

you bite back a giggle, “and… did you guys win?”

he glares up at you, eyes narrowed, “they’re a division one team. what do you think?”

“hm… but i thought hinata’s been off with a rolled ankle so…”

again, he scoffs, “that team’s plenty of other players who are just as annoying.”

you clamp down on your bottom lip, “wow. high praise.”

he whacks at the surface of the bath, splattering your dress even as you break into a bright peal of laughter. you reach down to flick him with a bit of water as well but he catches you wrist in his, fingers wrapping around your arm, the warm bath water slicking down your skin in thin rivulets, dripping off your elbow. you gasp, heart suddenly thrumming behind your eardrums.

the lopsided, slightly sadistic smile that slits his lips is stomach-twistingly familiar.

“tsukki… there’s miso soup —”

“mm. think i want something else for dinner instead.”

the low murmur of words is the only warning you get before you’re pulled bodily into the warm bath, the water soaking your dress, making the material cling to your skin in seconds. you squeak against his lips, rough and insistent and just a little pleading. you know it’s futile to struggle, so you let him kiss you, his teeth digging into your bottom lip as you groan, your fingers finally finding purchase along the slick skin of his shoulder.

“you — you’ve ruined my — my favorite dress…”

“hn.”

tsukishima doesn’t look at all bothered by your admonishment, shrugging, “it’ll dry.”

water sloshes over the side of the bathtub, now dangerously full with the both of you soaking in it’s steaming depths.

“was it really that bad?” you ask, affecting your voice into a soft coo, trailing wet fingers over the soft of his cheeks.

“if i say yes,” he asks, peering down at you as a lepidopterist might study a new specimen of rare, and newly captured butterfly, “would you try to make me feel better?”

you lick your lips, feeling your mouth go dry, despite being literally submerged in water.

“depends,” you say, “on if you’ll let me go turn off the stove first — wouldn’t want the miso soup to burn.”

tsukishima rolls his eyes, fingers tightening around your wrists, pulling you closer. there’s a dangerous light flickering behind his eyes; a dull ache pulses at the base of your stomach, singeing up your spine as you tip forward for another long kiss.

“thought i said already… i don’t think i really want miso soup for dinner anymore.”

hinata.

there’s a certain magic in watching him play — the way he treats every win like his first, or his last. the way the world seems brighter right around his edges, as if his own shimmer and shine might infect the universe if it would only let him.

he is incandescent with joy after the olympic qualifier games — scoring a ticket is no mean feat, and it’s not every day that you see bokuto cry.

“congrats, shouyou!” you’re one of the first to greet him after the press stint (and a shower), but you can still see the brilliant, glazed look to his eyes that tells you he’s still riding his high. his smile is wide enough to split the sky as he spots you, jogging over to hoist you up into his arms, spinning you round with almost comical ease.

“haha — thanks!”

he leans up for a kiss, one that’s sweet as it is heady. when you pull apart, you are still weightless, and his smile shines like a smile on pause — it makes you want to unpause it, and watch it unfurl.

you trace the pads of your thumbs along the tiny freckles dotting his cheekbones — souvenirs from his time in brazil.

“so! are you gonna come watch us?” he asks, making to walk down the decidedly not deserted hallway with you still in his arms. you blush at the thought, giving his shoulders a slight squeeze.

“shouyou… you can put me down now — and of course i’ll come! it’s not everyday that your boyfriend makes it to the olympics.”

several people chuckle as they watch him parade passed, you still firmly held aloft, your elbows propped on his shoulders to give you some semblance of balance. your cheeks burn as hinata hums, waving at a fellow teammate, reaching out for a fist bump.

“shou…” you fight the urge to bury your face in his shoulder as he finally rounds a corner into a much more private hallway. he grins, completely unabashed, as he pushes through an unmarked door to a what seems to be an empty locker room. it’s sparse, but well-lit and quiet.

“hm?”

he sets you down on one of the benches and drops a quick kiss onto your shoulder.

“i could’ve walked…”

“didn’t feel like putting you down,” he says, his voice dropping in register and taking on that darker, baser veneer — you hear the frayed edges, the sandstone texture, a tell-tale sign of a deep-seated hunger. a very specific brand of shouyou-flavored want.

“n-ngh —” you make a soft noise as he dips down to nuzzle into the dip of your collarbone, a tiny groan festering up the back of his throat as he sighs.

“been thinking about this…” his fingers dance up your sides, light enough to tease, but solid enough to remind you of just how close you both are to a ruthless press and the oogling public.

“sh-shou let’s wait —”

hinata whines, shaking his head, his hair tickling at the skin of your neck, “don’t wanna.”

and you sigh, weighing the option of pushing back or giving in. each has dangers and merits, but you know better than most that when hinata gets like this, indulgence is usually the only answer that will satisfy.

“plus… i just won a ticket to the olympics! don’t you think that deserves some kind of —” he casts around for a good enough word, pulling back with a smile that, in the right kind of slanted, locker room light, might just look like a smirk, “reward?”

you cock your head and blink up at him, letting your fingers tangle in the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, “what? the olympics ticket wasn’t enough of a reward for you?”

at this, hinata pouts, pushing his bottom lip out far enough for you to lean forward and bite it. the movement makes him groan, his whole body tipping forward to cage you back against the row of cool, metal lockers.

“you shouldn’t do that if you don’t think you can finish the job,” he says, pulling back just far enough for the heat of his breath to fan across your spit-slick lips. you lave your tongue across them, shifting beneath him as he cocks his head to stare down at you, his eyes wide and dark and misty.

“and… what job might that be?” you ask, breathless even as he dips down again to catch your lips in his, reaching down to tug you bodily up the length of the lockers before pinning you in place. once upon a time, it was easy to forget how strong he is — but now, it’s even easier to spot the stretch and flex of muscle beneath his sun-kissed skin, feel the strength of them as he holds you still with a single hand, the other tugging down the neckline of your top.

“mm… the job —” he skims his teeth across your skin; you gasp, eliciting a small, satisfied chuckle from him, “of being an olympic athlete’s girlfriend, of course!”

kageyama.

it is never the losing, and always the aftermath, and by now, you know the shades and slivers of all his specific kinds of silences so intimately that you know without him having to say how the practice match had gone.

“hey.”

you greet him by the door with a soft, placatory kiss. he grunts, toeing off his shoes before dipping down to wrap both his arms around you and pull you close. you let out a breathy laugh as you feel his nose digging into the curve of your shoulder.

“want some dinner?” you ask, reaching up to stroke his sweat-soaked hair even though you already know the answer.

“later,” he says, making no sign of wanting to let you go. instead, when you try to pull away, he leans down and scoops you up to place you on top of the kitchen island, slotting himself between your knees, and re-burying his face in your shoulder.

“then…” you let your voice trail off, feeling the exhaustion pour off him in waves. you dig your fingers into the tense line of his shoulders and feel them tighten up before they fall slack again. for a few minutes, he contents himself with letting you massage the worst of the knots from his shoulders.

“hn.” he lifts his head only to lean forward and find your lips with his. the kiss is slow and just a bit tired — as sweet as it is thorough. in the beginning, you’d worried that dating someone like kageyama would end up being the kind of short-lived thing that all the tabloids and magazines had warned you about — that he might grow bored after a week, a month, maybe half a year. after all, someone like him, with that insatiable need for more wouldn’t be suited for the kind of so-called ‘domestic bliss’ as it’s prescribed of most long-term relationships. but he’d surprised you, in more ways than one. he’d not only not grown bored, but had seemingly become ever more… entranced.

the pair of you had grown into each other, each day steadily getting closer. until the space the two of you shared became so inextricably linked there’s no telling who’s breath was caught in each of your lungs, of who’s scent it was that lingered in the fine linen lining of all your pillows and sheets. it’s become your’s. in the most cliche way possible.

kageyama contents himself with kissing you, breaking for small breath, and then kissing you some more. one kiss falling into another, and another, and another. till you’re breathless in just way he likes, till he’s breathless, in the way that he gets sometimes during a particularly intense rally. he knows he’s sweat-sticky and probably stinks of the gym, but the way you smile up at him when he pulls away makes his whole body go soft.

“let’s take a shower before dinner,” you say, tracing a finger along the shell of his ear. he bites back a frown.

“not a bath?”

you laugh, shrugging, “we could — but the food’ll go cold.”

“we’ve got a microwave.”

you smile, a smile that inspires — no, demands — another kiss. and so he does. you make a tiny, exasperated noise but don’t make to pull away. kageyama reaches down to pick you up, settling your thighs on either side of his hips as he maneuvers the pair of you towards the bathroom.

“food’ll be there when we’re done,” he mutters, gently placing you down on the side of the bathtub and reaching over to turn on the hot water. the steam rises in thick sheets from the surface of the water, and already, kageyama can feel his limbs loosening at the thought of a nice, long soak. he catches you watching as he strips off his practice clothes.

“see something interesting?” his voice is so measured you’d never know he’s teasing, save for the tiniest hint of mischief in his eyes. you blush and look away, tugging off your own clothes in an attempt to distract yourself. the water sloshes around his ankles as he steps into the bath, and you join him a second later, curling up against his chest as he winds his arms around you, the pair of you settling against each other like nesting spoons, cut perfectly for each other’s every bend and curve. or perhaps like russian dolls, one encasing the other — wholly and completely.

“when’s practice tomorrow?” you ask, turning to watch him lean back, his eyes falling shut to the soft trickle of water over skin. you know the answer, and so does he. but he shifts and answers you anyway.

“not till noon.”

“good,” you say, turning back to rest your head on his shoulder, “we can have a proper breakfast.”

“we always have a proper breakfast.”

you laugh, absently walking your fingers up the length of his bent leg, drawing tiny circles on his exposed knee, poking out of the water like a pale island amidst the green-tinted water.

“i can grill mackerel tomorrow — i’ll have the time.”

outside, the moon is white and full with love, the sky bloated with countless shimmering stars. inside the gentle quiet of your home, kageyama leans forward to trail a kiss to the bend of your bare shoulder; you reach back to cup his cheek. when he turns your face for yet another kiss, it is sleepy and happy, long and lazy. full, weighted, soaked through with the kind of surrender only known to those who love and are in love.

“the food’ll really be cold —” you gasp, twisting away from kageyama’s growingly insistent lips, “if we keep going like this.”

he makes a slightly irked noise before caging you back against him with a deep frown, “you said so yourself — we’ve got time tomorrow. so —” he leans in to bump his nose against yours, waiting for permission. you chew on your lips for a second longer before conceding. and he’s right — isn’t that what microwaves are for?

[hyukalyptus]

nsfw alphabet - hueningkai ! - cw. some mention of spanking (paddles/whips) in k, r, and t.

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex) - biggest snuggle bug. i think he'd be too lazy to rly clean up even, just reaches for a t-shirt off the ground to clean y'all up a bit, then grabs u to snuggle, either spooning u and rubbing ur ass or ur laying on his chest :3

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) - ooooh ykw, i've never thought about what his favorite body part on himself is. probably his chest? i feel like he's pretty proud of his broad chest, and ofc fave body part on u is ur tummy

c = cum (anything to do with cum) - hm..likes stuffing it back inside u after it drips out

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) - rly wants to beg for a devil's threeway but is way too nervous ><

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) - ykw. i'd say average..? like he's had a few partners, maybe one or two one night stands, but definitely not a ~player~ he knows what he's doin!! very very good at making u feel good. i feel like he's the kind that's hyper aware of what the other person is feeling and is always trying to prioritize them.

f = favorite position - missionary (the jiggle)

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) - oh my god i think he's so fun during sex! i think he doesn't take it too seriously, but still understands the intimacy of it. like he does not get held up by the little things. likes trying new things and giggling at things with u during sex. ugh. so hot.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) - i genuinely think he's a pretty hairy guy and keeps it that way.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) - full on sweepin ya off ur feet. knows all the right buttons to press to turn u on, knows exactly what to say, knows how to say them, etc.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon) - pillow humper.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks) - feel like he loves spanking ya a lil harder than most, like he loves paddles and whips with feathers, etc., and ice.

l = location (favorite places to do the do) - the bed. or shower for hand stuff.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) - what u wear! loves seeing ur body exposed ofc, but loves when you love what ur wearing, just thinks its such a turn on to have someone comfortable in their own skin and clothes lol

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) - i don't think he loves the "please stop" or "no!!" kinda stuff. like if u say no or stop, he gonna stop. doesn't like messin around with that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) - loves receiving :p think he's a whiny mess, especially licking his balls OMG. as far as skill.. he's a munch. gets all slow and sensual with it too.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) - somewhere in the middle (with penetration at least), like he's not overly rough, but likes a nice rhythm to it.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) - not his fave. might have one in a dressing room backstage to get hyped up but that's about it.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) - yes! i think he'd definitely be down to experiment. he'd be a lot more wary of any "painful" stuff but since he loves spanking so much, he'll try them, just super super cautious.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) - i'd say he could last a while if he wanted, but gets kinda impatient. can definitely hold it off until u cum first though.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) - has absolutely no problem with them whatsoever, just doesn't have a lot himself. likes paddles and whips like i said, but doesn't have a ton of the other kinds of toys. would definitely use one if u wanted. and maybe he's got a pocket pussy somewhere around here.... but honestly prefers his hand.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease) - not a tease imo.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) - WHINY WHINY WHINY and grunty .

w = wild card (a random headcanon) - LOVES it when u pull his hair. like literally can't even do it in public or he'll moan.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) - longer than average. kinda veiny.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?) - lower than normal ig ? idk i don't have an incredibly high sex drive myself and i see myself a lot in him so maybe that's where im coming from, but probably cums...once every 3 days at least?

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) - love love loves a good nap right after he cums. like i said, just kinda grabs whatever t-shirt or towel he can find to wipe y'all asap to get to cuddling and napping <3

[lovehypegirl]

DUTIFUL ADEPTUS

synopsis: you're the adeptus created by Morax to watch over Liyue alongside Adeptus Xiao in his absence. When he comes back in his mortal form, he makes sure to tell you to rest  wc: 0.8k warnings!: none

Being an adeptus was nothing to scoff at. Especially if that adeptus was created by Morax himself

He created you in his image; flowing dark hair with golden tips, sharp golden eyes with a dragon-like glow, brown and golden horns, and the strength to subdue a hundred monsters at a time

He had created you from cor lapis for strength, a silk flower for elegance, and a glaze lilly for wisdom

You were created in the adult image and therefore had no childhood

Your days were spent training with Morax as he taught you the ways of martial prowess and of poetry, song, and story

He always taught you to remain sharp in all aspects of life Additionally, he set you to lead the Yakshas as you were the strongest

You spent your days among the other Yakshas and often found yourself receiving gifts of intricately embroidered Hanfu in varying shades of gold from Menogias

In fact, many temples that were erected in Liyue in your honor have art that depicts you wearing a golden Hanfu

Now, when Morax had to fight in the Archon War, you were left behind watching over the people of Liyue and defending them from such harm

This caused the people of Liyue to see you as a protector and they began to erect temples in your honor and give offerings which in turn, made you stronger

When the war ended, Morax went to rule Liyue from afar, visiting once a year on the rite of Descension

Xiao is a different story, after his fellow Yakshas died from their karma, he tended to distance himself and protect Liyue from afar

Your work was hard. You constantly circled the entirety of Liyue like the sun ensuring that no monsters approached the city, the temples dedicated to the adepti were not desecrated, visiting Cloud Retainer, Mountain Shaper, and Moon Carver

You also visited Ganyu on a weekly basis to ensure that she was doing well working among the humans, watching Gaming as he preformed his Wushou dances, looking out for YaoYao whenever you saw her wandering the wilds, bringing gifts for Shenhe, conversing with Ningguang, talking with Beidou at the wharf, and so on

Basically, you never had time for yourself and you became even more busy when the Traveler came to Liyue

When the whole fiasco was settled Morax or Zhongli came to visit you in your abode

It was the first time you had seen your master face to face for a proper cup of tea and a conversation

It felt like reuniting with a father

"My dear, how have you been?" he asked over the steaming cup of tea. The golden sandbearer trees swayed in the wind as Tubby bubbled in the background  "I have been well master, Liyue prospers every day under my protection" you answer in a serious manner   He sighed slightly and placed his gloved hand on top of yours "Have you been taking some time for yourself?"  "I'm afraid I cannot, master. Even now I am restless."   He smiled slightly and squeezed your hand"It is good that you always remain diligent but you must learn to rest"  "As an adeptus I don't need to rest--"   "You do. You will exhibit signs of mental strain, my dear. And you needn't worry. Xiao will always be there to look after Liyue. You do trust him do you not?"   "I do but..."   "Then you will have no problem leaving Liyue in his hands whilst you rest for a moment" he gave you a sincere smile  "...Alright. As you say" 

Zhongli finally convinces you to take some time for yourself and mingle with the people of Liyue in a bit of a disguised form

You retract your horns and change your Hanfu to sometime a little less God-like

You found it rather calming to walk among the people that you spend your days protecting

Both you and Xiao fell into a rhythm where you protect the areas surrounding the cities and villages and he deals with the remaining land

Sometimes you can find him on the roof of Wanshu in and he always sits up a little straighter when you approach with a plate of almond tofu

"Adeptus Xiao, how have you been?" you ask as you hand him a pair of chopsticks "...I've been well" he says shortly as he accepts them "Has Zhongli visited you recently? I've seen him around the harbor often" "He has" Xiao responded as he chewed on the almond tofu, he's never much of a talker "Are you attending this years Lantern Rite? Or will you watch from afar?" "I'll be watching from afar" "Then will you...release a kite with me? I know it may sound stupid...but it makes those little humans so happy...it must be quite enjoyable" you said as you munched on a bite of the almond tofu "...sure" you could've sworn he smiled a little

When you see Xiao outside the city, you take walks with him through the Huaguang Stone Forest or through Dihua Marsh

Sometimes you accompany him on the roof of Wangshu Inn and show him how to take pictures of the sunset with the Kamera

Once a month, Zhongli, Xiao, and You have a dinner together in your abode. Placing your trust in the humans to protect their own kind for the night

© 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙀𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 | modification and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited

[barelytolerabled]

Healing Speed and Soul

daniel ricciardo x fem!physiologistReader

summary: The McLaren team sought the expertise of a skilled physiotherapist, you, to tend to the physical well-being of their drivers. Little did they know, you would soon become more than just a healer, evolving into a vital source of emotional support for the drivers, especially Daniel Ricciardo.

Warnings: body shaming, ed

WC: 2k944

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On your first day at McLaren, you nervously stepped into the bustling atmosphere of the team's headquarters. Team principal Zack Brown warmly welcomed you, introducing you to the dedicated mechanics, engineers, and other essential members of the McLaren family.

As you walked through the high-tech facility, you felt a mix of excitement and anticipation. The air was filled with the hum of activity.

Zack eventually led you to the heart of the team the garage. There, you found yourself face to face with the dynamic duo of McLaren, Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo. Lando, with his infectious enthusiasm, greeted you with a friendly smile, while Daniel, known for his trademark grin, extended a warm handshake.

"Hey there! Welcome to the team," Lando exclaimed, his energy contagious.

Daniel, with a twinkle in his eye, added, "Great to have you on board. We've heard you work wonders, hope you're ready for the challenge!"

You, feeling the warmth of their welcome, couldn't help but reciprocate the positive energy. Little did you know that beyond the world of physiotherapy, you were about to embark on a journey that would intertwine your life with the adrenaline-fueled existence of the McLaren drivers.

A few days into your tenure at McLaren, the intense rhythm of Formula One life began to settle around you. As the physiotherapist, you observed the drivers, Lando and Daniel, pushing themselves to the limits during practice sessions and briefings.

Recognizing the importance of maintaining their peak physical condition, you decided it was time for a comprehensive medical checkup. You approached Lando and Daniel with a plan to ensure their bodies were in optimal shape for the upcoming races.

"Lando, Daniel, I'd like to conduct a thorough medical checkup to ensure you're both physically prepared for the challenges ahead. It's crucial to address any potential issues before they escalate," you explained.

Lando, always eager to improve, nodded in agreement, "Sure thing, doc. Anything to stay at the top of our game!"

Daniel, with a playful grin, added, "I trust you've got the magic touch. Let's do it."

The medical examinations unfolded in the state-of-the-art McLaren facilities, with you meticulously assessing their fitness, flexibility, and overall health. As you worked, conversations flowed, revealing not only physical aspects but also providing insights into the drivers' mindset and emotional well-being.

In those moments, you realized the delicate balance between physical prowess and emotional resilience required in their life. Little did you know that your role would extend beyond the realm of physiotherapy, becoming a crucial pillar of support for Lando and Daniel as they faced the relentless challenges of the racing season.

In the quiet confines of your small office, it became evident during Daniel's medical checkup that he was neglecting his nutritional needs. You, observing the signs of under-eating, decided to address the issue directly.

"Daniel, I've noticed you might be skimping on meals. Nutrition is a crucial part of staying at your peak, especially in this demanding sport," you gently pointed out.

Daniel, usually vibrant, seemed quieter than usual. After a moment of contemplation, he simply nodded in acknowledgment.

Sighing, you grabbed your coat. "Come on, Ricciardo. We're going to fix this. I'm taking you for a proper meal, no excuses."

Leading the way, you and Daniel left the confines of the McLaren headquarters, embarking on a journey to ensure the Australian driver's well, being extended beyond the racetrack. Little did you know that this impromptu outing would mark the beginning of a unique bond, intertwining your role as a physiotherapist with a deeper connection to the personal lives of the McLaren driver.

Navigating the streets in the fading daylight, you led Daniel to your apartment. The confusion on his face was evident as he questioned, "Your place? Why are we here?"

Turning to him with a determined look, you explained, "Daniel, it's not just about making you eat; it's about making sure you eat right. I'll be cooking for you. Trust me, it's time for some proper nourishment."

Once inside your cozy apartment, you set about preparing a wholesome meal, the aroma wafting through the air. Daniel, still a bit perplexed, watched as you skillfully moved around the kitchen.

"You're really going all out. I appreciate it," Daniel admitted, a hint of gratitude in his eyes.

As you sat down to eat, you shared a smile. "Sometimes, a good meal can make all the difference, especially when the pressures of racing start taking a toll. Consider it part of my job to keep you fueled and ready for the season ahead."

As you shared the meal in your apartment, a comfortable silence enveloped you. Suddenly, breaking the quietude, you looked at Daniel and asked, "Who?"

Daniel, with a mouthful of food, raised an eyebrow, "Who what?"

Softly, you persisted, "Who made you think you shouldn't eat? There's something deeper here, Daniel. I can see it."

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Daniel hesitated for a moment. A mix of surprise and vulnerability flickered in his eyes before he finally spoke, "Well, it's just... the constant pressure, expectations, you know? Sometimes, it feels like I don't deserve a break, even for a decent meal."

You nodded in understanding, recognizing the weight of the expectations that came with Formula One. "It's crucial to remember that taking care of yourself isn't a sign of weakness. If anything, it's a strength. You're not alone in this, Daniel. We're a team, on and off the track."

You, sensing there was more to Daniel's struggle, looked at him with a discerning gaze. "Are you sure you're telling me everything about that? Because Norris doesn't seem to have this issue."

Daniel hesitated for a few moments, glancing away before finally admitting, "Well, some people think I should be careful with food, that my weight isn't the best for racing. But yeah, little norris isn’t a problem like me for them."

A dry chuckle escaped your lips. "What a load of nonsense. Your performance on the track speaks for itself. You don't need to conform to anyone's unrealistic standards. It's about being healthy and fit, not fitting into someone else's idea of what a racer should look like."

Clearing the plates from the table, you took a decisive stance. "From now on, I'll bring you lunch, Daniel."

Daniel, trying to be polite, protested, "No, no, you don't have to do that, really."

You turned to him with a determined look, "Daniel, my role is to take care of you. Of course, I'm doing it, and you have no choice."

Concern crept into Daniel's expression, "But Zack makes me follow a strict regime. He can't know."

A disbelieving shake of the head, you retorted, "Zack agreed to this nonsense? Well, then it'll be our secret. Meet me in my office at lunch tomorrow. We'll eat together."

As the weeks passed, you continued your routine of preparing and bringing lunches for Daniel, meeting him in your office during race weekends. The aroma of home-cooked meals became a familiar presence, and whispers of camaraderie between you and Daniel began to circulate.

People couldn't help but notice the positive changes in Daniel, he seemed healthier, more energized, and perhaps even a bit happier. The bond that had formed between you and him extended beyond professional duties, creating a ripple effect in the team dynamics.

Colleagues started to see the genuine care and support you provided, not just in terms of physical well-being but also as a source of emotional strength for Daniel.

In the bustling atmosphere of the McLaren team lunch area, Daniel found himself with no choice but to join his teammates while eating the lunch you had prepared for him. Sitting across from Lando Norris, one of the team members jokingly teased, "Didn't know you knew how to cook, Daniel."

Daniel, taking a bite, replied honestly, "I'm not the one making it."

The teasing took an unexpected turn when the team member quipped, "What, you got a wife at home or something making you these?"

Daniel chuckled dryly, playing along, "Something like that, actually, yeah."

The laughter subsided when Lando, with a curious expression, raised an eyebrow, "And you think I could ask your 'wife' for one too? I've got a appointment with her this afternoon, pain in my back you know."

Daniel's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and realization dawning on him. "How do you know who's making me those lunchboxes?"

Lando leaned in, a knowing smile on his face. "She has the exact same lunchbox, mate. But don't worry, your and your "wifey" secret is safe with me. I'm aware of how tough the team can be on you."

Arriving home late, you were taken aback to find Daniel in your apartment, busy preparing dinner. "Daniel, what are you doing?" you asked, a mix of surprise and gratitude.

He gently helped you off with your shoes and coat, replying with a smile, "You've been doing so much for me, so I wanted to return the favor. Not promising a meal as good as yours, though." He chuckled and guided you to the dining table, ensuring you were comfortably seated.

"Daniel, it's actually my job to take care of you," you reminded him.

He sighed, placing your plates on the table, and took a seat in front of you. "And as your friend, it's my job too. Let's forget work, mmh?"

You smiled at him, grateful for the unexpected gesture. "Thank you, Daniel. This means a lot."

Mid-dinner, Daniel suddenly got up, exclaiming, "I almost forgot." He returned to the table with two glasses and a bottle of wine.

"Daniel, we work tomorrow," you reminded him.

He playfully interrupted, "Ah ah ah, what did I say? We forget work tonight, okay?"

You sighed, smiling, "Anything you want, Daniel."

With that, you clicked your glasses. The shared laughter and genuine connection over dinner marked a brief escape from the intense world you navigated together.

Relaxing on the couch after dinner, you and Daniel found yourselves immersed in easy conversation about anything and everything. As the night unfolded, Daniel slyly mentioned, "You know, I may have indirectly told the guys it was my 'wife' who prepared my lunchbox."

You raised an eyebrow with a playful grin. "Oh, is that so, Daniel? Well, get ready. I'll start leaving lovey notes on those lunchboxes of yours. Always dreamt of being a good wife to my husband."

They both burst into laughter, the shared humor lightening the atmosphere. In that moment, amidst the jokes and banter, you and Daniel found solace in each other's company.

Days later, on a day when you couldn't eat with Daniel, you slipped a small note into his lunchbox. It read: "Fuel for the race, but don't forget to savor the moments off the track too. You've got this! - Your wifey."

When Daniel opened his lunchbox and discovered the note, a wide grin spread across his face. During the team's lunch break, Lando noticed Daniel's amused expression and couldn't resist asking, "What's got you all smiles, mate?"

Daniel, holding up the note, chuckled, "Looks like I've got a secret admirer, leaving lovey notes in my lunchbox."

Lando leaned in, feigning surprise. "Oh, a secret admirer, huh? Got any idea who it might be?"

Daniel playfully rolled his eyes, "Come on, Lando, you know exactly who it is. She's making sure I eat well and stay in high spirits."

Lando, joining in the light-hearted banter, teased, "Well, aren't you lucky to have your 'wife' looking out for you? I hope she leaves some notes for me too."

Daniel, with a smirk, responded to Lando's teasing, "Keep dreaming, mate. It's my 'wife' making them laugh." The banter continued, and laughter echoed through the lunch area.

However, as Daniel glanced at your note and the warmth it brought, a subtle longing lingered. A part of him wished the playful joke about a secret admirer and a lunch-making 'wife' could transcend the realm of humor. Little did he realize that within the confines of the jokes, a deeper connection was slowly taking root, sparking emotions that stretched beyond the boundaries of mere camaraderie.

The 'wifey' joke continued to weave itself into the fabric of Daniel and your dynamic. Whenever Daniel passed by your office, he'd playfully inquire, "How's wifey doing?" Lando, ever the instigator, joined in, making insinuations that left the two of them chuckling.

Before crucial races, their banter took a unique turn. Daniel, often discussing strategy with Lando, would hear remarks like, "If I win, your wife better make me that famous lunchbox for me too." The playful commentary even spilled into interviews, with Lando winking at Daniel when asked about their favorite meals.

In one interview, when the interviewer queried about the drivers' preferred dishes, Lando slyly responded, "Well, it depends on who's making it, right, mate?" He wiggled his brows at Daniel, leaving the audience in stitches.

During a casual night in with your friends at your place, you packed two lunchboxes of the same meal you had prepared. Observing your actions, one friend raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Two? Planning to feed a small army or something?"

You chuckled shyly, "It's just for one of my patients."

Another friend, noticing the little notes signed 'wifey,' couldn't resist poking fun. "And those little notes signed 'wifey' are also for your patient?"

Laughing, you playfully scolded, "Hey! Put that down!" The room erupted in laughter, the friends enjoying the playful banter. Your lunchbox antics had become a source of amusement not just within the Mclaren garage but also among your close circle of friends.

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Searching for Daniel in the garage, you found him with Lando. "Wifey," they both cooed simultaneously, earning a punch in the shoulder from Daniel to Lando. "Not you," Daniel clarified, prompting laughter.

"Be gentle, Daniel," you teased, handing him his lunchbox with a little note as usual. "Need to be taking care of an engineer during lunch, sorry." You side-hugged Daniel before turning to Lando, "Pole position, right, little Norris?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lando replied with a smirk.

You chuckled and handed him a lunchbox, saying, "Well earned. Keep going like that, Lando. I'm proud of you." Lando happily hugged you, expressing his gratitude. He then turned to Daniel with a mischievous grin, "Guess I also got a wife now, loser."

"Hell no, you don't, little mosquito," you laughed, playfully shutting down Lando's claim. With a quick exchange, you got back to work, leaving the two drivers with smiles on their faces.

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The usual lunch hour arrived, but Daniel didn't show up at your office. Growing worried, you decided to search for him in the garage. Passing by Zack's office, you overheard Zack's cold reprimand, focusing on Daniel's weight.

Unable to bear it, you entered the office with determination. "It's my fault," Daniel began, looking at you with concern. "No, no, it's not her fault," he continued, addressing Zack, "You're right, Zack. I haven't been careful recently, and I'll change that."

You, however, halted Daniel with a stern gaze. "No, you won't."

Turning to Zack, you asserted, "Zack, as Daniel's physiologist, I took the liberty to ensure he's properly nourished because apparently he hasn't been before my arrival here. His well-being is my responsibility, and I won't let him compromise that for any unrealistic standards."

Zack's anger flared as he confronted you, "You knew about his strict regime, and you went against my orders!"

"Yeah, I did! I did, and if I had to, I'll do it again," you asserted, standing your ground.

Zack, visibly angered, sat up. "You know what you'll do? Pack your things, you're fired."

Daniel, attempting to mediate, approached Zack, "Zack, it's not her fault. She didn't mean to—"

Stopping Daniel with a raised hand, you interjected, "Stop, Daniel. I don't want to work for someone like him anymore anyway."

With those words, you turned away and headed to your office to pack your things. The air in the room hung heavy with tension, marking the end of your tenure at McLaren.

While you were packing, your focus interrupted by the sound of the door, you instinctively responded, "My office is closed, sorry."

"It's me," Daniel's voice cut through, and you turned around to see him standing there.

"Oh," you uttered, and without a word, Daniel opened his arms. You hurriedly approached, burying your head in his chest. "I'm so sorry wifey," he whispered.

"It's not your fault, Daniel," you mumbled into his embrace, finding solace in the midst of the tumultuous situation.

“What am I supposed to do without you at the garage now?" Daniel thought out loud, his worry palpable.

You chuckled sadly, "You could always still come to mine for lunch."

He couldn't believe it. Pushing you away a bit, Daniel questioned, "You just lost your job because of me, but you continue. Who are you?"

"Honestly? Just a girl who grew too close to her patient," you admitted.

Raising an eyebrow in confusion, Daniel looked at you with wide eyes as if connecting the dots. "You're too important for me to let people treat you like shit, especially when it's putting your health in danger," you explained.

His eyes widened, and it seemed like realization struck him. "Do you mean that—"

"Yeah, I love you, Daniel," you confessed.

For a moment, silence hung in the air, and doubt crept into your mind. Yet, before you could dwell on it, Daniel stopped your doubts. "Then it's good you got fired, else I couldn't have been able to do this."

He grabbed your face and kissed you. "Would your dreams be fulfilled with me as your husband?"