#i think that's their name i can't remember
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shoepixie · 2 days ago
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HI! So I'm a human example of this! No, not the *result* of eugenics, but definitely the sort of person eugenics assholes got excited about, and something they probably would create if they got their way. See, a lot of eugenics-obsessed assholes in the 80s got excited about brains like mine in and had a variety of names for them and I don't remember a *lot* about that time but there were lots of tests and poking at me and a few really boring clubs that were supposed to be prestigious only they didn't even have a damn soda machine so how cool could they honestly have been? Turns out you gotta have a better metric for 'paragon human' than 'BRAIN GO VROOM' cos, guess what, that doesn't actually make a realiably excellent human! Turns out brains aren't actually computers, and one that's overclocked just overheats, and yes it goes *faster* but it doesn't actually think *better* without training it to do that, also. That's education. And it still makes decisions based on emotion, because that's what they do. Also being smart doesn't actually get you far if you happen to be in a culture that's suspicious of intellect, and being really creative doesn't do you a lot of good if you happen to be in a culture that doesn't value creativity, and neither does you any good if you don't have good support and a stable environment and good medical access and...you know, all the things that let ANY person make the most of themselves. And maybe, like maybe, people are just like animals, and having some really exceptional trait also makes you sort of weird and fragile in really weird and unpredictable and often debilitating ways. It's so so so hard to live this way. I can't imagine why anyone would want to do that on purpose.
I think sometimes people think eugenics is bad but its still true, like thinking that if people with certain traits have children it will change society for better or worse based upon what traits are promoted. I think its important to emphasize that eugenics is not only wrong morally it's also fake and stupid bullshit
Like eugenics was supposed to be based on the idea that "If it works with animals to select only the best ones to breed, why wouldn't it work with humans?"
well it doesn't work with animals, that's the thing. applying the eugenics ideas to domestic breeds of animals hasn't made better animals it's just made animals with more extreme expression of certain traits. turns out that when you decide which traits are the "best" and become obsessed with the genetic purity of the animals that have the "best" traits, you might well end up with some sad suffering creature like a Pug, or the Persian cats with the smashed faces that are in constant pain because their teeth and airways and brains are getting crushed by their skulls, or those meat chickens that grow so fast they can hardly even stand up after a few weeks old, or inbred race horses with tiny feet and fragile toothpick legs
like almost all traits are neither "good" or "bad" they're way more complex than that. a long tail or a long snout or a stubborn, independent personality can be good or bad depending on the situation. Who gets to decide what is a "good" trait or a "bad" trait? It's arbitrary and selecting for traits that are "good" in your opinion will often have both "good" and "bad" outcomes because the "good" and "bad" are part of each other and not separate its just part of being alive
Obviously oversimplifying everything but you get it. we did eugenics with dogs and how did that go? not very well
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kyri45 · 3 days ago
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I'm making this post since there's an italian idiom "a Natale, siamo tutti più buoni" (during Christmas, we are all more good) and while I prefer to keep this blog for only my art, today is a day where most of us can do something good, even if small.
If you, just like me and many lucky others, are able to spend this Christmas at home, with warm food and a place to call home, please take a moment to help, spread awareness, or even just think about those who can't.
These are some sources I wish just to spread, because I know it can be overwhelming to wanting to help in some ways, but don't know how or who, or even if the source asking is attendible.
el-shab-hussein and nabulsi's spreadsheet is, I think the most known one for vetted fundraisers.
gazafunds.com has one highlighted campaign you can donate to if you don't know which one you should or want donate to.
Operation Olive Branch’s spreadsheet also has other links with alternative ways to help, including donating directly to the municipality, to family shops, and other resources as well.
Here's some of the people (listed) that you can help today:
@suad-khaled (line 279) gofund
"Can you imagine being stripped of safety at the happiest moment of your life? I’m Suad, a young mother from Gaza, where I gave birth to my son Khaled amidst the chaos of w@r. I urgently need your support to secure shelter and medical care for Khaled. You can be part of our story, as every bit of help makes a real difference."
Suad Alkurdi (line 55) gofund
"My name is Souad Al-Kurdi, I am 32 years old, from northern Gaza. I have three children, Wissam, Karim, and Adam. My husband is diabetic and does not take insulin doses and treatment due to their lack of availability in Gaza. My children suffer from diseases due to pollution and malnutrition. We need money to travel to Egypt and build the future of our children there. Travel requires $9,000 per person, and this needs your support."
Jehad Abuhamda's relatives (line 137) gofund
Hello, my name is Jehad Abuhamda. I’m an American/ Palestinian who is seeking for your support in helping me get my close relatives out into safety. My relative lived a hard life after having is right hand amputated from the remnants of Israeli explosives in a previous war. Despite that, it did not hinder him from working in order to provide for his family. But now that he has lost his home, and with the worsening living conditions, He has decided that it is best to leave for the sake of his children.
Of course, be sure to check your local organizations to help those in need of shelter and food, especially if you live in a very cold area!
And remember that if you can't donate, you can always share AND boycott!
Also if I need to edit anything in this post, just let me know.
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cherryxbooo · 22 hours ago
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You’re my ideal type
Summary: A video from a year ago of Oscar talking about his ideal type went viral, making his fans wonder why he chose his girlfriend. This leaves y/n with a lot of questions herself .
Note: First time writing for Oscar! I kinda went with the flow. Let me know what you think! 😌
Reader x Oscar Piastri
Genre: fluff/angst
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It was a beautiful, sunny day in Monaco. I was out with two of my friends, enjoying brunch together and soaking up the good vibes.
We spent hours talking, laughing, and joking around—overall, it was a fantastic time.
Afterward, we decided to go for a stroll. That’s when we stumbled upon a gorgeous spot with an incredible view. For girls, that can only mean one thing: a photo session. And, of course, we took full advantage.
We snapped countless pictures of each other—exactly what I needed. I’d been wanting to update my Instagram feed, and I knew Oscar would appreciate a few of these too. A win-win situation if you ask me.
Hours later, we decided to head home. Parting ways was bittersweet, but we all had things to do.
When I finally arrived at the place Oscar and I shared, I immediately went inside, feeling my social battery completely drained.
I glanced at the clock and sighed. There were still a few hours to go before Oscar would be home. Feeling a little bored, I decided to tackle some household chores to pass the time.
Eventually, I finished everything and switched to full-on "bed rotting" mode. As I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, I remembered the stunning photos we’d taken earlier.
Sitting up, I started going through them, carefully picking out the best ones to upload to Instagram.
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yourusername posted on Instagram!
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yourusername Days like these ☀️💐
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oscarpiastri Pretties girl ❤️ by author
alexandrasaintmleux Gorgeous ❣️
yourusername Says you 💋
f1_dailylvr81 She's so girly coded love it 💅
fashionistaformula I can't be the only one thinking about that one interview of Oscar?
paistryln481 You're not alone, every time I see her I keep thinking about it
foryoutt16 Wait what? I'm lost, what happened?
cocosainzyy55 @foryoutt16 An old interview of Oscar when he was still in F2 resurfaced and he was talking about his ideal type and the description he gave matches nothing to his current girlfriend. People are suddenly bringing this up again, wondering why he didn't choose his ideal type.
foryoutt16 Oh damn that's rough...
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The comments and likes flooded in, as they always did. Sometimes, I forgot that I was dating an F1 driver—it came with its own kind of spotlight.
But as I scrolled through the comments under my post, a few things caught my attention.
One comment in particular stood out: something about an old interview of Oscar.
Confused and curious, I decided to look it up. Little did I know, I was about to regret it...
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My stomach twisted into knots as I watched the video, realization sinking in. Oscar described his ideal woman, and her characteristics were unlike ones I possessed. I felt a wave of insecurities and doubts wash over me, each word a reminder of how I didn't fit the bill for his ideal partner.
My heart sank with every word he spoke, describing his ideal woman's qualities - and every one felt like another reminder of how far off the mark I was.
I couldn't help but wonder, "Why did he choose me?" His words stung, and I questioned whether he settled for less than his ideal because he didn't have better options.
On cue, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Oscar returned home and called out my name. His voice echoed through the hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. I hesitated, a mix of fear and confusion gripping me, as I debated whether to face him with this newfound knowledge.
He entered the room with a warm smile, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. He greeted me with a gentle kiss on the forehead before starting to speak in sweet words.
"Hey babe, how was your day?" he asked, completely unaware of the recent discovery I made.
I forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside as I replied, "It was fine," my voice trying to mask the disappointment and insecurity that bubbled up.
The words left my lips, sounding hollow compared to the usual warmth in my tone.
Oscar sensed the hint of falsity in my fake smile. His observant nature picked up on the subtle cues of my distress, and he recognized that something was off. Yet, instead of immediately asking about it, he chose to hold off, observing to see if I would bring it up.
Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. He kissed my temple gently, his touch providing a temporary sense of comfort.
He knew something was bothering me and chose not to press, offering a moment of respite instead. "Do you want takeout?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.
I replied softly, trying to match his tenderness, "Sounds good." Despite my conflicting emotions, I didn't want to dampen the mood by revealing my insecurities.
"Takeout sounds great," I said, attempting to sound cheerful.
Oscar reluctantly let go of me, reaching for the phone to place the takeout order. In his absence, I seized the opportunity to sneak a look in the mirror, as well as to search for pictures of Oscar's ideal type.
I scoured the internet, comparing every aspect of my appearance to the images of his ideal woman. The comparison fueled my insecurities, amplifying the feeling of not measuring up.
My tears threatened to spill as I stood there, comparing myself to Oscar's ideal, but before they could, I heard Oscar's voice calling out.
"Y/n baby, the food will be here in twenty minutes," he informed me. I swiftly wiped away the tears before responding, attempting to hide the vulnerability in my voice, "Okay, thanks for letting me know."
Splashing my face with water to compose myself, hoping to hide any traces of my tears and distress. With determination, I dried my face and returned to the room where Oscar was, trying to mask my vulnerability.
After the food came, we ate together. I was quiet, it was mainly Oscar talking which was odd because normally it was always me talking and he would listen. We were currently cuddled up together after eating
Despite our cozy cuddle on the couch, my mind was preoccupied with worries. Thoughts like "What if he leaves me?" and "What if I'm not good enough?" consumed me.
Oscar noticed my distraction and asked if I was alright, concern in his voice. I replied, "Just tired," and although he didn't fully believe it, he decided not to push further.
Oscar spoke up once more, his voice soft and reassuring. "Y/n?" he began, his eyes searching mine.
"You know I love you, right? If there's anything bothering you, you know you can tell me," he emphasized, his tone filled with patience and support.
I nodded, attempting to hide the depth of my worries and insecurities. "Yeah, I know. I love you too," I responded, trying to sound reassuring.
The words felt heavy, knowing the weight of my unspoken fears.
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A few weeks had passed since that moment of insecurity, and I had been avoiding Oscar, even though we lived together. I had made excuses to skip every Grand Prix , claiming I was too busy with work.
Yet, here I was, facing the mirror on the morning of a home race, feeling utterly unprepared. The interview weighed heavily on my mind, and I wasn't in the right state to face it.
Standing in front of my reflection, I looked at myself, thoughts of my inadequacy resurfacing.
Oscar entered the room, his gaze settling on me. He positioned himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head.
His presence brought both comfort and nerves as I stood in front of the mirror, still grappling with my insecurities.
He spoke softly, his compliment genuine and sweet. "I didn't know it was possible to be this pretty. You look amazing love," he murmured, his voice filled with affection.
I stepped away from him, the compliment not offering the comfort it usually would. My actions were distant, as if I was subconsciously putting up a barrier.
"Thanks," I responded distantly, my tone devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied my words.
The fear of his departure and my sense of inadequacy still lingered in my heart, casting a shadow over the moment.
Oscar seemed puzzled by my distant behavior, his confusion evident. Seeing right through my attempt to avoid him, he asked gently,
"Baby, did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?"
His voice was tinged with concern, his eyes filled with hurt at my distance.
I quickly responded, trying to change the subject. "No, you did nothing wrong. Uhm, shouldn't you leave for the race?"
Oscar looked at me, his gaze lingering on me before reluctantly letting it go.
"Wait, weren't you coming with me?" he questioned, his tone hinting at his confusion.
I responded with a slightly busted attitude, "Oh, uhm, I'm not done getting ready yet. I'll come later, though."
It was a lie, and Oscar seemed to sense that something was off.
Despite the passing time, he decided to focus on his own preparations while stealing a moment to kiss my forehead before leaving.
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I took a moment to muster my courage, realizing that Oscar didn't deserve being pushed away because of my insecurities.
With a deep breath, I prepared myself to face the day and attend the race, pushing through the weight of my doubts.
As the hours flew by, I found myself standing in the garage, watching from afar, torn between my worries and the desire to support him.
After awhile I decided to go to the restroom since I still had some time before the race started.
As I was walking, I heard voices behind me, and my name being mentioned caught my attention.
I stopped to listen—not that I meant to eavesdrop, but hearing my name made it impossible not to.
From what I could tell, these girls were likely McLaren fangirls. Well duh after all, they were dressed in papaya colors.
Girl 1: "It's crazy that Oscar is still dating y/n. She doesn't even fit his ideal type."
Girl 2: "I know, right? Like, she's not even close."
Girl 3: "Yeah, he must be leading her on or something."
Girl 4: "Or maybe she's in it for the fame and money."
Girl 5: "Oh, definitely. There's no other reason she would be with him."
The girls' laughter echoed in my ears, each comment like a punch to my heart.
Girl 2: "Seriously, you'd think he could do better than her."
Girl 1: "Yeah, she's not even that attractive compared to the other girls he's dated before."
Girl 3: "I bet he'll realize soon that he could get someone way better."
Girl 4: "Well, if the fame and money aren't enough, then he's definitely settling."
I couldn't bear to listen any longer, my tears streaming as I fled to the restroom, seeking solace to hide my distress.
Time slipped away as I stayed there, isolated, wrestling with my tormenting thoughts and self-doubts.
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Meanwhile, the McLaren garage buzzed with pre-race energy, but Oscar couldn’t focus. His eyes darted around the paddock, scanning for any sign of you.
Anxiety churned in his gut as he spotted his teammate leaning casually against a workbench.
“Lando!” Oscar called, walking over briskly.
Lando glanced up, eyebrows raised. “What’s up, mate?”
Oscar hesitated before blurting out, “Have you seen Y/N anywhere?”
Lando frowned, clearly puzzled. “No, mate, haven’t seen her. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen her around for the last few races. Is everything okay?”
Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, mate. She’s been so distant lately, and I have no idea what I’ve done to upset her.”
Lando’s expression softened, a mix of pity and thoughtfulness. “Could it maybe have to do with that video that went viral again?”
Oscar blinked, confused. “What video? That old F2 interview of mine? That was years ago! I was just joking in most of it anyway.”
Lando shrugged, giving him a pointed look. “Mate, you might want to check the comments under her recent Instagram post. I think that’s your answer.”
With a sympathetic pat on the back, Lando turned and walked off, leaving Oscar alone with his thoughts.
He pulled out his phone, his fingers quickly navigating to your profile. The comments under your latest post hit him like a brick.
“Oh no,” Oscar muttered, his stomach sinking. “No wonder she’s been distant…”
He mentally kicked himself, remembering that dumb interview where he’d been too cocky for his own good.
“I didn’t even mean half the stuff I said,” he whispered to himself, cringing at the memory.
Before he could search for you and explain himself, a crew member called his name, dragging him toward the car for pre-race preparations.
“Great timing,” he muttered under his breath. But he made a promise to himself: as soon as this race was over, he’d find you and make things right.
Meanwhile, back to you, the restroom break had taken longer than expected. The initial plan to kill time before the race started had backfired; now, a dull ache was forming in my head, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping up on me.
I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, but the discomfort wasn’t going away.
Deciding it was best not to push myself, I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a message to Oscar:
Not feeling great. Heading back home. Don’t worry about me.
I hesitated before hitting send. He’d probably be confused or even concerned, but the last thing I wanted was to worry him.
With a sigh, I hit send and slipped my phone back into my bag.
As I stepped out of the restroom and headed for the exit, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.
On the way, I also let Oscar's manager know I left, just in case he didn't check his phone.
I knew Oscar would notice my absence, but today, it felt easier to retreat than to stay and face everything swirling in my mind.
Little did I know, Oscar was already worrying.
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The race had ended, with Oscar clinching a solid P4, just behind Lando. Though pleased with his result, his mind was elsewhere.
He wanted nothing more than to see you, to feel your arms around him, and hear you tell him how proud you were—just like old times.
But as he scanned the crowd, his hope began to waver. You weren’t there.
His manager noticed Oscar’s distracted gaze and approached him. “Looking for Y/N?” the manager asked gently.
“She left you a message. Said she wasn’t feeling well and headed home.”
Oscar’s jaw tightened, his heart sinking. You hadn’t told him the truth.
A mix of frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface. Without a word, he decided to skip the team celebrations and headed straight home.
When Oscar arrived, he didn’t waste a second. Dropping his bag by the door, he called out loudly—his voice sharper than usual.
“Y/N!”
You were downstairs in no time, a soft smile on your face.
“Oh, hey, Osc! You’re back early. How was the race?” I asked sweetly, trying to act normal.
But Oscar wasn’t having it. His expression was hard as he stared at you.
“You would’ve known if you didn’t leave,” he said, his voice laced with frustration.
Guilt washed over me, and you stammered, “I’m sorry, Osc. I wasn’t feeling well—”
“Cut the crap, Y/N!” he interrupted, startling you. His voice was raised, something he rarely did.
“When are you going to finally admit the real reason you’ve been like this? Tell me! I’m sick of it!”
I flinched but couldn’t blame him. He deserved an explanation. At the same time, I’d had enough, too. My emotions spilled out, my voice breaking.
“How would you feel if people kept telling you that your partner is too good for you? That you’re not good enough, that you’re too ugly, not their type, only with them for the money?!”
Tears streamed down my face as you continued.
“And yes, it’s about that stupid interview of yours! I can’t help it, okay? Call me dumb, call me a crybaby, but this is too much!”
By now, I was full-on sobbing, unable to meet his gaze. But before I could crumble further, I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me close.
His voice was soft now, gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me, baby? I could’ve helped. We’re a team, remember?”
I sniffled, my voice trembling as I replied, “Those were your words, Oscar. I can’t take them back or change them.”
He sighed, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “Babe, that interview was years ago. I was joking around the entire time. If you’d watched the whole thing, you’d see that.”
I shook my head, unsure, but he leaned back just enough to look at me.
“Since when is my favorite color pink?” he teased, a small laugh escaping him.
Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, too.
“That's better,” he said, smiling.
“Listen to me. Everything I said in that interview wasn’t true. I was 18, tired, and didn’t even want to be there. I was just trolling to get it over with.”
I laughed again at his confession, finally meeting his eyes.
“There’s that pretty smile,” he said, his tone softer now. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but next time, talk to me, okay?”
I nodded, wiping your tears. “I will. I’m sorry for doubting you… for pushing you away.”
He smiled warmly, leaning in to peck your lips a few times.
“It’s okay, love. I get why you did it. But don’t you ever doubt yourself again, yeah? You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me. How did I get so lucky, huh?”
He cupped your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before pulling you into a long, passionate kiss. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“Don’t you ever doubt yourself,” he whispered. “You’re my ideal type. Always.”
I laughed softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”
Suddenly, Oscar scooped me up into his arms, bridal style, making me squeal.
“Osc! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”
He grinned, shaking his head as he headed toward the bedroom.
“Nope. Let me show my gorgeous girl how much I love her.”
And let’s just say, the night ended perfectly. From that moment on, I never doubted his love for me ever again.
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oscarpiastri posted on Instagram!
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oscarpiastri An amazing race to finish off the week. A big thank you to the entire team and the fans. Also a big thank you to my beautiful girlfriend for being the best support.
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yourusername So so proud of you Osc!!! Love you! 🩷
oscarpiastri Love you too pretty!
landonorris Well done mate 🙌 extra support is always great!
oscarpiastri Thanks man! You're right especially if she's just my type 😉
yourusername 🤭 ❤️ by author
lalalandnorris4you Oscar really gagged all of you haters purr 💅
frvrformulaonestan1 This is the cutest thing ever brb I'm going to cry 🥹
notyourfan481 Bro Oscar you don't have to lie we all know this ain't you
osclvy/n Girl stfu he isn't going to notice you ffs 🙄
lovelypeachlan4 You thought you did sum? Get out 👉🚪
yourusername posted on Instagram!
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yourusername A little recap of last week 🤍
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yourbffuser Looking like a snack 😋😍🥵
yourusername Love ya 💋🫦
oscarpiastri Gorgeous 😍
yourusername Love youu Osc 🥰
alexandrasaintmleux So so so pretty 😘
yourusername Says you beautiful 😉💕
lv4motorsports81 She's so pretty omd
manyyynorriz She's gorgeous, don't know what people were on about 🤨
banananorrispiastry81 🤢
nothingthelessnorris4 And you did this for what ☠️
piastrybakerlvr Move on he isn't going to notice you 🥱
lvlynorrisss4 Yet your comment didn't make any change to this world... Grow up 🤦‍♀️
The end
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ram-one · 3 days ago
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THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS - CANDY CANYON... CAPTURE?
for this illustration, i had a fun episode idea (i am not a writer, bear with me):
somehow, caine decides to have the group return to the candy canyon kingdom for a new adventure, probably having something to do with helping princess loolilalu again. pomni believes that, by being in gummigoo's origin location, he might magically remember about the events of episode 2! While the others are busy, she sneaks away from the group to find the alligator bandits...
after navigating in the desert for what feels like forever, she finally finds them! as expected, gummigoo does not remember pomni. being in his home habitat however makes him VERY hostile. he gets alarmed by this random woman knowing his name and, thinking of her as a potential threat, he does what bandits do best: tie damsels in distress to train tracks... except there are no train models, she can't be ran over.
caine is aware of what's happening, but chooses to instead turn this change of events into the new adventure's objective: save pomni! with no trucks to divide them this time, the group is forced into some CQC action! who fight bandits in stereotypical western movies? cowboys!!! yeehaw! with a new look and set of tools, the gang is set to go into the horizon.
ragatha is the first one to notice pomni missing, she makes it her mission to bring her back safe and sound: she's the leader, even if she doesn't like bossing around others. zooble partakes this time, they're not messing around with that gun-arm! gangle gets absorbed into the role by sticking a moustache onto her mask and... the boys aren't particularly interested in the rescue mission: while jax is jax, kinger is trying his best to be useful but keeps getting distracted! this time, he found a cotton candy unicorn (i forgot the gummy elephant was a thing, but i really wanted to design a cotton candy unicorn).
i have not thought of a way this episode would end, but pomni is definitely going to get her happy ending... in a way. sure, she still can't get gummigoo to remember her, but she had the whole circus coming to her rescue. she didn't think of herself as being in danger, but that's something she's going to hold on to.
uhhhh yeah that's it byyyeeeee
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timkontheunsure · 13 hours ago
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comfort object
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I was a bit unsure about this, till the artist released the baby photos they worked on. Go and look at them all. 🙂
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Look at how cute wee Via was!!!
So don't think Via's star pillow is quite as special as Max was to a wee Stolas. (There's a star pillow next to Max here, and now wondering if Stolas passed it down to his daughter).
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But I'll explain why that's a good thing.
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With Stolas Max had to be on his bed all the way up till his 11th birthday. Along with a whole fluffle of other teddies.
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But Via at a much younger age is put to bed without any teddies.
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Even when she's had a nightmare
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She's put back to bed without a teddy to keep her safe. And that because she doesn't need one!
Via has a loving parent, Stolas; who she has secure attached to.
Stolas didn't have that.
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He has a butler who'd police his emotions, to make he easier to deal with. And Paimon, and guy who visits so infrequently he can't remember the little feather dusters name.
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But it's really telling that as soon as Octavia's in her mum's sole custody; Via needs her baby toy to help soothe.
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Kid doesn't feel safe with Stella and Andrealphus, even if she doesn't fully understand why yet.
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jensthwa · 3 days ago
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a very show & tell christmas (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
It's been a few months since you and Mingi got together. It's your first Christmas as a couple but not your first one together. As he watches you re-organize the tree in his living room, he can't help but reminisce on the key moments that made him realize you're his person.
PAIRING: mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: stablished relationship, holidays special!
WORD COUNT: 7k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI), mingi's pov, a loooot of fluff and love talk, pet names (love, my love, babe), mistletoe kisses, heart felt gifts, messy kisses, mingi and reader briefly discuss something that i've come to learn is called sweater fetish but i don't know if the scene counts as that but just letting you know, oral sex (f receiving), reader asks mingi to 'use' her, hard but romantic sex, unprotected sex (booo, wrap it up please), marriage discussion at the end omg?
NOTES: happy holidays everyone! I've been wanting to write mingi's perspective of everything that went down in s&t for a while so I took the chance to write it for the holidays because what better time to reminisce about everything you've ever lived than december am I right? [nervous chuckle]. I hope you're having a wonderful month and i hope next year treats you even better! THIS IS PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH SERIES BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: december 25th 2024.
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Mingi remembers the first time he saw you like it was yesterday. It's an image so vivid, so impactful in his life that there's no way he could ever, ever forget. 
He was playing soccer on the street, with two friends who moved away that same year and he doesn't really remember them all that well now. He kicked the ball so hard it landed in your yard as you were doing something else. Playing with dirt? He doesn't really remember, you might've been but it didn't matter because it was also the first time he realized he could fall in love.
Granted, he didn't fall in love immediately. He was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy and he didn't understand those feelings just yet. It was that transitional period of a kid’s life where the desire to connect with someone else was strong but definitely not a priority. 
Besides, he didn't realize, until many years had gone by, that the first time that he saw you and he felt time stop, he also saw a life with you: the five seconds it took for the ball to roll over to your feet after almost punching you in the face and he sort of assumed you were going to be in his life forever. 
And you are going to be in his life forever. In one way or another, but he promised you that forever a while ago, in his head, in his dreams and in the way he cares about you, for you. In the way his heart hurts when you're not around, when you two fight. In the way his heart sings when he kisses you, the way it dances and beats against his chest when you smile at him, because of him, around him. 
And when he hears you laugh? Pfft. He melts at the sound. 
He's melting even now, after being officially together a little over a year, as you laugh with your mom and his mom while decorating the Christmas tree at his house. 
Well, not decorating it exactly. You three went shopping earlier today and somehow your mom convinced his mom that the old ornaments did not go with the living room aesthetic anymore and she bought new ones for them. 
The only ones that are old now, that the redecorating party is finishing with the tree, are the ones you and him have shared over the years. 
The one you got at fifteen, that resembles a snow globe with two snowmans inside of it, holding hands and with your names engraved in wood underneath it. The one he got at seventeen that's a little simpler but you say it's your favorite: two gingerbread cookies holding a heart sign with your initials in it, one of the cookies kissing the other’s cheek. 
You two have been alternating years of getting each other ornaments and deciding which house they're staying at. This year, however, you went for a different approach to the tradition. Each of you painted an ornament, a traditional one, with something festive that alludes to one another. 
He, seeing that you've been talking snoopy for half a year, tried his best to paint the character on top of his dog house, decorated by Christmas lights and with a red ribbon to tie it to the tree that illuminates your living room up the street. 
Now, he watches carefully as you hang near the other ornaments, the one you hand painted to look like a chicken. Initially, you tried to convince him it was a penguin but it can't possibly be. It's more yellow than black or white and even if you tried to tell him it's a specific type of penguin you saw in happy feet there's nothing that indicates that it's not a chicken.
“Oh, well, it fits him.” His mother says at your explanation, hugging your mother tightly as she fondly watches you hang the ornament up. You turn around when you finish, tongue out at him childishly. 
He pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up to playfully tug at the tongue you're sticking out to him still “Mom, you're supposed to be on my side.” 
“I am!” She defends herself, smiling like she's totally not on his side. “It does look a little bit like you, dear. Even your little mole here.” 
You take the opportunity to press on your tippy toes and kiss the mole his mom is pointing out, only to get more aws from them. 
“I win.” You whisper to him, proud of yourself and he can't help but smile at you as you pull away. 
Mingi remembers the first time he realized he was in love with you. It was the first time he called you by his favorite endearment: love. 
He remembers the ice cream shop you both were at, he remembers the conversation being more of a confession that you had a crush on a friend of his, he remembers the guy serving the ice cream complaining about the fridge hardly working and he remembers the blush on your cheeks as you admitted to want to be called love because…
“That's what good boyfriend's do,” you said, ice cream on your fingers that you quickly wipe away with an already sticky napkin, “So we're going to get together and I'm going to be called love from that moment on.” 
He knew you were talking about his friend but his heart skipped a beat anyway. He had to focus on what you were telling him, not on the pretty smile you gave him or the relief he felt when he realized the one thing that would lead you straight (or not so straight) to disappointment. 
His friend was a very proud but not that  out gay man. 
But Mingi decided to not mess with it, he always let you fight your battles alone if those battles ended up with you learning a lesson and without a scratch, anyway. 
“Good luck with that, love.” 
“Ugh, no, you don't get to call me that!” 
The nickname stuck either way. Even if, at the time, he pushed those feelings down deep inside of him. 
Because you were his love, but you were also his best friend ever and he was just a dude. A boy, even. 
He didn't know better and so, eventually, you got a boyfriend. Great dude, worshipped you like you deserved and all.
Mingi remembers the way he felt when you told him you loved Han. He hated the guy, hated the way he made you smile, hated the fact that he trusted him of all people because, well, there was and there will never be someone who loves you more than Mingi. 
Han thought he was the one, you didn't. But even after breaking up with Han, Mingi stood still. He understood his feelings, his protectiveness over you, as something platonic. But he didn't really have time to think about it with your head on his chest, on his bed, over the sheets and with the door wide open because it was a school night after all. 
School night meant no sleepovers, but his mom didn't ask you to leave when she saw you with tears in your eyes at their front door. Mingi didn't ask you to leave as you soaked his sweatshirt with said tears, either. 
“I don't know why I did it, Mingi. I don't… He did nothing wrong.” 
“You said you felt he was not the one.” 
Your regretful eyes looked up at him “But what if he was?” 
“He's not,” he whispered back to you and, at the time, he didn't know why. He had no reason to tell you Han wasn't the one for you, but his subconscious knew things he didn't accept back then. “You wouldn't be doubting it at all if he was, love.” 
You ended up sleeping over that night, door wide open still, your mom texting him when she couldn't reach you on the phone. 
He helped you through that breakup, just like you helped him with his first breakup as well. 
He helped you mend your own wounds, he saw you grow stronger after the pain went away, he felt proud of you when you started showing up to your first uni parties without him having to convince you to go. 
Mingi remembers the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. You two were laying under the stars, a little hazy and on a rooftop you definitely shouldn't be up in. 
That probably wasn't the actual first time he wanted to kiss you, just the first time he admitted it to himself. Your friends were on the rooftop as well, dancing around, yelling, being silly, just as drunk as you two were or worse but, for a moment, it was quiet. Now that he thinks back to it, he probably imagined it. 
The noise quieting down, that is. 
Mingi remembers that he had turned to you to ask what you thought was going on but your eyes were closed. He remembers the breath he took in as he traced the side of your face with his eyes, carefully, like the staring alone would get you out of whatever peace you were enjoying at the moment.
Have your lips always been so perfect and inviting? He answered himself immediately: Yes, of course they are perfect, she's perfect. 
He doesn't really know how he didn't realize it right then and there. When his heart soared at the thought of it, of disturbing your peace only to kiss you. 
And then the noise came back, laughing and screeching and something alarming came out of Jongho’s mouth. 
“Shit, shit. Security!”
You opened our eyes and found him already staring at you. He should've felt embarrassed to be caught, but you smiled at him before rushing to your feet, offering your hand and shaking it for him to take it. 
“Can you get up or should I stay and be escorted out with you?” 
No one got caught that night except, maybe, his heart. 
Because he realized he loved you around a week after that, as he saw you do the most mundane task ever: washing your teeth in front of your bathroom sink, still trying to rant about something that pissed you off in one of your classes. He remembers pressing his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at your and your frown through the mirror. He also remembers the frantic beat of his heart as he realized he wanted to do just this with you every day of his life. 
Going to bed together, waking up next to you and listening to you rant about things you're going to forget the next day. He never wanted that with anyone else, only you. 
You, you, you. He got so lovesick the next year after that he tried desperately to cover it up. With different activities, with people kissing his neck at parties after dancing for a while, with anything and everything that could distract him from the fact that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you. 
Not because he didn't want to explore but because every single time he tried to say something, the words would die down under the weight of years of friendship and loyal companionship. 
He couldn't lose you, he didn't even know how to make sure you liked him back! 
And so the yearning got unbearable enough for everyone in your friend group to notice it, except for, well, you. 
“At some point you have to tell her about it, right?” 
No one in the group presses on things. Woo and Gyuri (Woo’s ex girlfriend who, somehow, is still his friend and everyone's friend as well) maybe, but when it comes to matters of the heart, they let everyone be. So it surprised him when Seonghwa, of all people, spoke on it. 
“You can't keep looking at her like that from a distance and waiting for it to pass, Mingi. It's not going to pass.” 
He remembers sighing and then giving you one more glance before turning to his friend.
“She probably doesn't feel the same.” 
“Who cares? You're never going to find out keeping it to yourself.” Seonghwa gave him a tiny smile before bumping his shoulder against his, both teasingly and reassuring. “Besides, she loves you too much to allow some romantic feelings to get in the way. Just… Think about it, yeah? Not forcing you here,” he shrugged, “but we all do, kind of, maybe, want you two to kiss.” 
Snorting a laugh, Mingi remembers shaking his head no and then thinking about it for, at least, three months after that before actually making a move. 
He remembers feeling humiliated by one of his attempts to put his feelings for you to rest, he remembers confiding in you and your friends, he remembers when you agreed to tell him how to make it right the next time he slept with anyone else. He doesn't really remember asking you to show him. 
His mind disconnected after he saw the blush painting your cheeks beautifully, his heart took over him when he kneeled in front of you to kiss you that first time, when he allowed himself to give in and touch you like he had wanted to for so long. 
And then the days and the months blended so gracefully after that summer that he doesn't really recall when the weather started getting cold, just that the color of the snow contrasts against your winter coat when you both go outside after having Christmas dinner at his house, with both your parents and his present. 
They were friends before, but now? They see each other more than you two. 
Well, that's a lie, but almost. And, like all best friends do when spending the holidays together, they get lost in good conversation and company, in a bubble made out of wine and laughter, cozy enough that it allows you and Mingi to slip out of his house hand in hand easily. 
You have a little smile as you look around the street like you don't know the houses you pass on the way to yours. He wants to indulge you, but the words slip out his mouth without even thinking about it. 
“Am I walking you home because you wanted to change into something more comfortable or because you want to give me an additional Christmas gift, love?” 
“Stop ruining it! You know I'm not good at hiding things,” you click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed and kick the snow with your boot when you stop and pull him close, “We haven't got alone time in forever.” 
“Two days,” he says with a nod, arms going around you and head going down to kiss your lips tenderly for a quick second, “Three, if we count today.” 
You pout “That's like… A lifetime.” 
“I know,” he gives in, chuckling against your lips, “I'm going through withdrawal symptoms and all.” 
He watches as you close your eyes and lean in. He gets ready for it, inhaling cold air that hits his lungs as a reminder where you two are, what he's allowed to enjoy in public, and closes his eyes as he waits for your kiss that never comes. 
Instead, your nose nuzzles his softly, barely nudging the skin and you take a step back, taking his gloved hand and intertwining it with yours “I also may or may not have a gift for you.” 
Smiling in victory, Mingi fakes an annoyed gasp “I knew it.” 
“Yeah, yeah, you're so smart,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and entering your front yard without letting go of him. “Hurry, I'm freezing!” 
“This was your idea, love.” He deadpans but hurries anyways and afterwards, as the warmth of the foyer allows him to shrug off his coat and leave it in its designated spot by the door, he laughs at your clear enthusiasm. 
You're already shoeless, coatless, gloveless and scarfless and waiting at the third step of the stairs, impatiently blinking at him as a signal to hurry up, again. And when goes upstairs with you, you make him promise to keep his eyes closed as he walks towards your room. 
“You're too tall, I can't cover them with my hands so promise, Song Mingi.” 
“My eyes are literally closed!” 
He hears a door open. It has that creaking sound the door to your room has and when the smell of your perfume hits him as you press your hands to his chest to stop him, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know where he is. He knows his way around these halls anyway. 
You turn him, so that his back is probably facing your room, and then instruct: 
“Look up and open your eyes.” 
Mistletoe. That's what he sees when he opens his eyes: mistletoe that is badly tape to your door frame, just above him. It makes him smile and then the best friend in him takes over when he looks down at you and your blushed cheeks. 
“Love… That's so chees—” 
“Just kiss me, you idiot.” 
And he does. He lifts you up from the floor and you bury your fingers in his hair before securing your legs around his waist and he walks the room he knows like the back of his hand until he reaches the bed. He doesn't sit down or puts you down yet, lazily opening your mouth with his tongue when you sigh against him. 
“Wait— Mm,” you speak against his mouth, words silenced by his eager tongue a second later. He has to physically throw his head back to stop himself from kissing you further, but when his eyes return to his face, his will almost falters. “That was not the gift.” 
“Okay.” He breathes out, smiling. 
“Sit on the floor.”
He does and the carpet is soft under his fidgeting hands as he watches you move around the room. You go into your closet (literally, you disappear behind the closed doors) and when you come back with a large box he blinks a few times in astonishment.
Huge box, really. It almost doesn't fit the space between you when you sit down in front of him and glance at him excitedly, a shy color to your voice when you speak again “Open it!” 
There's no way he can help the smile that curves his lips when he opens the box and finds an assortment of handmade things. Yes, the ornament that you made may have looked like something else entirely, but he starts to believe you made it on purpose when he pulls out the first gift: a bouquet made out of candy, his favorite sweets. 
“This is beautiful, love…” 
He lets out a chuckle when you steal one immediately and he promises to dig into it once he goes through all the gifts. 
There's a box with a card underneath that he goes to pick up but you stop him with a trembling hand “Save that one for last.” And he notices you're a little bit nervous, so he does, his own heart skipping at what might've inside the box, a similar yet smaller one weighing on the pocket of the coat he left downstairs. 
The other things left on the box are a few bills in the shape of hearts and a wooden sphere that he finds out, seconds later, it's a picture museum. 
“I couldn't fit every important picture we took together in a regular shaped box so I had to get this one.” You explain as he looks at the inside of the sphere. It looks like a miniature museum and Mingi feels like crying a little, so he takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss to ground himself “They're in chronological order, too, I had to consult the ancient texts to get them all right!” 
He laughs, confused “The ancient texts?” 
“Yes, my Instagram story archive.” You return, nodding and he gives your hand another kiss before letting it go to set down the museum next to the bills and the bouquet.
You let out a shaky breath when he returns his attention to the box and picks it up. You pick up the card. 
“Before you open it, let me read this to you.” 
“Of course,” he returns softly and takes the trembling hand you're extending in his direction. 
“First of all, look at how cute this is,” you turn the card and inside of it, it's decorated with kisses. Your kisses. Mingi would recognize them anywhere and he tries to take the card from you but you bat his hand away with it. “Later, let me read this to you. Um… 
“Dear Mingi,” he giggles at the formality of your tone and then forces himself to stop at the look you give him. “Dear Mingi,” you start again, “I don't have a way with words and I've re-written this letter a thousand times but I think I have come to terms with the fact that there are no words invented, no language discovered, that can accurately immortalize my feelings for you. The love I hold for you transcends everything and everyone, every concept ever created and every new idea future generations come up with. And, as I try to come up with a joke that can give this overdone confession any lightness, I have also come to terms with the fact that you're it for me. I already knew this, of course,” you laugh and he has to laugh a little, heartbeat on his throat and eyes full of tears and all, “I already knew how much I loved you. Platonically, romantically, it all has just blended into one because it doesn't really matter how I loved you, it just matters that I have the opportunity to do so, my love. I love you.” 
When your eyes catch his, the tears are already wetting his cheeks. 
“And now what didn't fit in the letter, because I chose this tiny ass card,” you laugh again, eyes already wet even though he can see you're telling yourself not to cry. “Our first Christmas together was the time I realized I wanted you in my life forever. It just felt right, like we belonged somehow and we do, Mingi. So I— Open the box.” You quickly say and when he does, the whole thing falls apart. 
Kind of. 
When he pulls the rope tied in a bow at the top and the sides fall he makes a noise of surprise that makes you laugh.
The sides have more pictures of you two and in the middle of the box there's another tiny box that he opens to find a necklace. 
With a ring that could fit him as its charm and a silver chain that's not too delicate but not too rough, just like the one he uses on a daily basis. 
The ring has your initials engraved on the inside and his initials engraved on the outside. He lets out a sob that prompts your tears to flow freely down your face and he catches you wiping them.
“I didn't want to give you this with the rest of your gifts this morning because, well, I'm shy and—” 
“You are not shy.” He speaks over you, wiping his tears. 
“And I didn't want our parents to scream marriage at us. I don't want to scream marriage at you either, my love,” you say before he gets any ideas. And it did cross his mind a second ago, but he's far from terrified of it. “But I wanted you to have something to remember me by, with our initials in it, as a token of how much I love you, Mingi.” 
He doesn't even know what to say. 
“A lot. I love you a lot, if you couldn't tell.” You add and he laughs and manages to scoot around the box of gifts to wrap his arms around your frame. You laugh into the skin of his neck, hugging him back. 
“I love you too,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear and his heart beating fast still. When he pulls back, you try to give him a kiss and he stops you, which prompts a confused look on your side. “You know that they say that overtime couples start to think alike?” 
“Look alike,” you correct with a tilt of your head and he gives you a look, so you backtrack, smiling. “No, yeah, couples start to think alike.” You nod and then let out a noise in protest of him getting up. 
He points his finger at you “Wait here.” 
And then he bolts downstairs, to his coat. 
It really does say something about you two, about the way your minds sync up at most needed time. Because as he enters your room, box in hand and knees hitting the carpet in front of you, he can tell you got his point immediately. 
“I'm not screaming marriage at you yet, love and I also didn't get you a letter or a chain to go with it, but—” He hands you the box and lets you open it, head immediately trying to paint into his memory the way you gasp at the ring, the way you take it delicately into your hands and examine it with care. “But I bought this months ago, in that antique shop you like so much because it reminded me of you and how could it not? Do you see how beautiful it is?”
It sparkles under your bedroom light, but he can see it from a distance: all the delicate details that make it look like there's two hands holding the pearl in the middle. In a way, it looks like two hands holding a heart. 
Just like you hold his heart. 
“As a token of your much I love you, Y/N.” 
You pout as he takes the ring and puts it on your finger. 
“You can't just steal my speech, Song Min—” 
He kisses you again. He can't not kiss you, he can't help but get you into your arms and thank you for choosing the ground to present your gift because he's anything but careful as he stands up, drags you with him, and sits on the bed with you on top of him. 
“Shit, hold on—” 
“Hm?” There's concern in the way your eyebrows crease and Mingi gets briefly distracted by how kissed out and breathless you look for a second before reaching for the floor. 
“My necklace,” he explains, reaching for the box and successfully getting it in his hand without having to take you off his lap. “Put it on for me, love?” 
“So you liked it?” You ask nonchalantly as you take the necklace, legs opening a bit more so that you're sitting further into his lap.
“You literally made me cry, Y/N. Tears,” he says, making a face that you catch before closing the clasp behind his neck. 
“Of joy?” You return in a whisper, eyes so sweet and smile so shy it makes him want to cry all over again. 
“I love you.” He says instead of answering the question, lips touching yours again, softly, wanting, forgetting you don't have a lot of time before your parents wonder where you went. 
There's no way careful thoughts can get through the fog your sighs against him create, in the way your teeth sink into the plush of his bottom lip and pull until he's moaning, the sting of pain passing by as your tongue caresses his. 
You've been getting a little bold lately, the nature of your encounters is always passionate but, somewhat, normal. Mingi loves every second you decide to give yourself to him but he also fucking loves when you do shit you like. 
Like taking control of the kiss, pulling his hair so his head can fall back and you can slowly make it messier, sloppier, even after the sweet moment you two just shared. 
Hands start to roam freely and, by the time you pull on his hair to detach your mouth from his fully, he's already breathless and hard against the fabric of his pants, mouth wet with shared spit. 
He's sure his pupils are blown, he's sure he's red on the face and fucked out already. He knows his expression mirrors yours as you take him, and the necklace, in, eyes scanning his frame before you roll your hips against him. 
He moans pathetically. 
You smile at the sound. 
“Like anything you see?” He tries to tease you to no avail. 
“You look so hot like this…” The hand tangled in his hair moves and he closes his eyes to welcome the feeling of your nails softly digging into his skin as they make their way into his neck, over the necklace and the ring resting against his collarbone. 
“With the necklace on?” 
“And the sweater.” 
He glances at his beige sweater with an arched brown and then he looks at your sweater, a warmer tone of beige than his, the neck a little high but not high enough to be considered a turtle neck, with the same expression. 
He puts the pieces together and then scoffs out an impressed laugh. 
“Where did you learn this kink, love?” 
“It's not a kink,” you defend yourself immediately, laughing when he looks at you like he doesn't believe it and then he leans in again, peppering your jaw with slow, open mouth kisses, “I just saw a video the other day and…” 
“And?” He encourages you with a shift of his hips of his own, gaining a curse that slips past your lips. 
“And then I saw you today in this.” The palm of your hand slips from his neck and into the fabric of the sweater, thumb passing over his nipple with purpose. He hisses in response. “So… We could leave it on, hm? What do you think?” 
He raises an eyebrow, trying to bite his smile back “What did they do in the video, love?”
“Oh,” you giggle into his shoulder as he kisses every inch of skin available to him, “it was a homemade video. I don’t watch anything super produced, you know that. They, uhm… Fuck, babe,” he licks his way up the side of your neck, successfully making you melt against him. “She was looking at her phone and he was eating her out,” you manage to get out. “And then she got on her stomach, legs straight a-and closed while he fucked her. Used her, kinda.” He pulls back at that, both intrigued and wanting to see if that’s what you actually want. 
“Used her to get off?” 
You nod and he leans in, nose brushing yours. 
“Is that what you want me to do with you?” 
“After you get me off,” you whisper back, smiling without any shame at your request “yeah.”
Mingi takes his time to think about it. On purpose, letting the tension linger as he presses both palms against the mattress, leaning back just enough so you can catch him checking you out unapologetically. Truth being told, his dick is twitching in his pants at the thought of helping you explore. This has always been your dynamic in bed: exploring, searching, discovering new things that make you wet, researching new ways of making you come and there’s nothing that gets him off more than the idea of you getting away with what you want. 
Even if that means sweating the fabric of this expensive sweater through. It’s okay, he has a washing machine. The way you wait for an answer, with eyes so bright and expectant, makes him bite his lip in return. 
Yeah, there’s nothing he enjoys more than pleasing you. 
He also knows you enjoy this. 
The anticipation. The teasing, the way his hand returns to your legs and slides the material of the sweater up slightly, only to neglect the idea a second after and, instead, turning his hand and letting his knuckles brush against the fabric of it deliberately, with laced intention into the touch even though his expression remains pensive at the proposal. 
A proposal he accepted, like, the second after you said it outloud. 
“Do you know how much I love your tits, love?” 
You let out a sigh as your answer and one look at you is enough to encourage him to keep going. Knuckles brushing upwards, he catches your firm nipple through the fabric. It's a little hard to do; considering you're probably wearing two layers underneath to shield you from the December cold; but he manages and you let out a needy whine. 
“Do you know how much I love you if I’m going to fuck you without taking one look at them?” 
Damn. He doesn’t really mean for his voice to sound so raspy but it does and the way your lips curve in mischief let’s him know that you catch it for what it really means: He’s so lost in it, in the sensual bickering, that he can’t help but show how affected he is, one way or another. 
And then there’s the urgency of getting on with it because you don’t know how much time you get alone, until someone calls your phone and asks for you or until your parents get tired of the wine and come back home. 
So it really does happen in a flash when you grab the collar of his sweater and smash his lips against yours with need, with a newfound spark that excites him. He practically rushes to take your bottoms off, to slide down until they pool at his ankles, to turn on the bed until you’re laying on your back and his mouth is marking your inner thighs, adding new color to the bruises already lingering there. 
You’re twitching under his touch and he has to press your hips down to keep you still when he takes your panties off and dives into your folds. Usually, he would be prepping you to make a mess. You teached him how to make you squirt months ago, the day before you officially got together and he has had the pleasure of making you see stars since then. 
Today, there’s not enough time. 
So he wastes no time in devouring you like he knows you like it. Your leg thrown over his shoulder, the sweater and the shirt underneath rising just enough for him to thrust his hips against the bed at the image of your skin. 
You try to keep it down, he sees you trying to contain yourself and under any other circumstances, he would scold you for depriving him of the sounds you make. But this time around, the view edges him. He wonders briefly what other scenarios he can propose to have you gulping down your moans, to make you gasp for air after pressing the palm of your own hand over your mouth so no more whines slip out of your lips.
He doubles his efforts, just to see you trying to contain yourself and failing to do so, again. It makes you double your efforts as well, probably just to spite him as you thrust your hips and chase your high, but it doesn't bother him. 
If anything, it makes him harder than ever. The way you ride his face, the tongue that flattens out and then curves around your clit and your conviction falters, hips falling still at the way he sucks into your sensitive nub. Your hand in his hair pulls a little and the sting of pain almost makes him come untouched. 
Chuckling into your heat, Mingi catches the exact moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels your limbs locking, he tastes your release when your orgasm hits you, he helps you ride out the sensation while pleased moans fill the room. 
And, usually, he would kiss his way up to your lips. He could right now too, over the sweater, the idea of the fuzzy material mixing with your orgasm it's tempting but he remembers you have to see people after this as well. 
He remembers he doesn't have much time. 
And your words are ringing on the back of his head when his mouth latches onto yours again, when you moan after tasting yourself on his tongue. 
He pulls away to silently ask the question: Do you want to keep going? 
You nod, nose nuzzling his briefly before he turns you around. Harshly, like he knows you like it. He sees you grasp the comforter and a pillow between your fingers when he sinks himself into your wet heat, he hears the muffled cry when he adjusts a little and when you close your legs to lie flatly on the bed and in-between his, he all but sees stars at the feeling. 
You're not tight. That's good, that's a sign that you're comfortable with him, trusting of him, a sign that you want you. This position makes it a snug fit, though, and when you purposefully squeeze around him he presses on his hands on your lower back with a groan.
“S-stop stalling, baby, we're running out of ti— Fuck, Mingi!” 
Pulling out and then slamming his hips back down with measured force, he marvels in the feeling of you genuinely squeezing around him, out of pleasure and not to tease him. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, forehead connecting with the soft material of the sweater when he leans over you, on your shoulder and smiles when you moan at the way he picks up the pace. 
“Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck,” you mumble in response, head turning and breath fawning on his cheek that you attempt to kiss a second later, so he complies and turns his head to kiss you sweetly, a complete contrast of the way he's thrusting into you.
He falters when he notices just how hard he is going but your hand shoots back, attempts to grab his hip and your head shakes in disapproval. 
“Don't stop,” you ask, breathless, eyes scanning his face to see if he's not into this but he assumes you don't find that because he is into it, “use me, my love. That's what I want.” 
You don’t have to repeat yourself. He leans back up, hands finding a secure spot on your hips and uses you like you asked. He’s hardly the one to seek his own relief so soon. He likes to take his time with you, even when you don’t have much, and that means making you come undone at least twice before he even allows his dick to be touched, but now? 
With how turned on he is? With how full of love he is for you? 
He remembers the time, the years he didn’t allow himself to see you in nothing but platonic light. He remembers the feeling of your lips on his for the first time, he remembers the love you professed to him today and the way you make him feel so wanted, so adored, so—
“Oh— fuck.” 
His pace falters, his orgasm so close he’s unable to keep chasing for it with the same measured force he was using before. 
“Yes, Mingi,” you encourage, somehow managing to move your body upwards, meeting his own, “don’t stop, baby, please, I want to feel you inside of me.” 
He vaguely registers himself moaning, babbling nonsense as his movements pick back up. He hears your voice distantly, like he’s underwater, like the way you tell him to come inside of him and that you love him it’s what’s pulling him back up. 
And when he releases inside of you, his ears ring slightly and his forehead meets your back, eyes closed and chest heaving. He feels his heartbeat on his throat, he feels your heartbeat on your back and its rhythm matches his beautifully. 
No one says anything for a few minutes where you both try and recover from the intensity of what you just did. Something new, something that leaves you both exhausted and he can see it on your sleepy and content smile when he pulls out and you turn around, not giving a fuck that you’re bedding is probably going to get sticky with his cum. 
He throws himself besides you and your nose touches his cheek immediately. 
“That was…” 
“So good,” you say and he hugs you close, breath still ragged, “and we should definitely look into sweater fetish or whatever it’s called. I think you enjoyed it more than me.” 
He gasps in feign offense. 
“Stop projecting, love.” 
“Am not—”
“Yes, you are,” he sing-songs back and you weakly hit his arm with your fist. You don’t say anything afterwards and Mingi stops staring at the stars in your ceiling to look at you. 
You’re staring at your ring. He smiles, all the emotions that your words brought to him coming right back. 
“I want to marry you, Y/N.” 
He says it without really thinking it through. He doesn’t regret it even when you look up at him with a little panic behind your eyes. 
“Now?” 
He laughs “Someday,” shrugging, his lips connect with your hairline and you sigh, snuggling up to him a bit more “There’s going to be two more rings that I’m going to give to you and only you.” 
“Good thing you got my ring size right.” 
Your joke makes him laugh and you lean up against his chest a bit to look at him. 
“I’m going to say yes, Mingi,” you whisper and he melts against the pillow, his hand on your cheek a second later. He sees your eyes go down to the ring on his necklace and the smile that brings to your lips makes his heart pick up again.  “And then I’m going to show off my ring to everyone and I’m going to be insufferable as a wife. I hope you’re ready.” 
You fall back down on his chest, cheek just above the beating of his heart and eyes closed. The smile lingers on your lips and, as he brushes your hair back with his hand and smooths his hand under your sweater, he can’t help but smile back.
“I don’t want it any other way, love.” 
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH and happy holidays! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
© jensthwa, 2024.
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acid-ixx · 1 day ago
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— masterlist !
every time i think about my series (again &. again), and the reader's fear towards the color green (or anything associated with damian, their half brother), i think about just how more painful it would be if you share the same features with him that he shares with bruce that amps up the angst element.
it doesn't have to be any major features, it could be small, but noticeable. something that has you reeling in yourself.
maybe it's the shape of your fingers or your brows, the plump of your cheeks, or maybe how your skin flushes the same way his does. maybe it's the way your eyebrows furrow like him, or the quirk of your lips whenever you smile a shadow of his smirk.
it doesn't matter because the more you look, the more you notice.
and the more you remember his glinting, green eyes standing by the arch of your doorway, menacingly watching over your shifting, paranoid body; ready to strike at you like you're prey, ready to eliminate your undeserving presence in the manor.
and of course, it's not a big deal, but for an overthinker like you, someone who's always trying to overcorrect, forcing yourself to not be associated by your family��� cutting off every interest, or object, any damn thing that reminds you of them; sharing similarities with appearances, something so intimate, something that could've been just yours, with your youngest brother no less, your tormentor, just makes you want to rip that part of your body to seams.
it inadvertently makes you wish you were never bruce's child, too.
just so you could never see damian in yourself, just so your heart doesn't hasten every time you look in the mirror and find yourself staring at those features for hours. until the image of yourself twists into him, until you're the exact copy of the assassin, of the demon child, of the boy you have to unfortunately call your brother.
and every time you do so, there's a haze fogging inside your head, there's this sickening urge to hurt yourself, to change your appearance even if it's a part of your that cherishes the image of your mother too— if it means taking away the unwanted stems that remind yourself too much of him.
the truth is, you don't hate him, or rather you can't bring yourself to, out of pure, convoluted fear.
you despise the way he makes it feel like there's spiders crawling in the back of your throat, or how your body automatically locks up at the slight mention of his name.
even if you see him as just that, a young boy raised to be corrupted; his youth doesn't disregard the fact that he is the incarnate of danger, the same boy who threatened to end your life at first meeting. whose words cut sharper than blades, whose sword is perched on his back; an unspoken promise to cut more than the skin of your neck if you dare try to fight back.
that even though he's significantly younger, he still holds too much power, enough to destroy your life for something you couldn't even control— your inability to be like them.
you don't hate him, you can't.
but it's easier to hate yourself for it instead.
because if it's so hard to despise him, then it's better to blame yourself for your shortcomings. if you fear looking at yourself, the shadow of your features distorting into damian, then you deserve to feel it.
if your hands find themselves ripping at your hair (the strands, god, the ends of your hair reminds you of the spikes of his, you want to die), then let it hurt you, let it destroy your being until you're nothing but dim, sunken eyes and blood-soaked clothes. let the hatred fester to the point your body transforms into an alien-like appearance just to forget him.
it doesn't register within you just how much you're subjecting yourself to the same tortures you were forced upon in that putrid manor.
the same way you let the torment living in that cage repeat like a cycle, again and again, never truly moving on from your past; a sick narrative you're never escaping from.
after all, you can never run away from the past. it bites you back, with the same, or even stronger force, until all that controls you is fear.
fear that forces you to look in the mirror, stare at yourself, nitpicking every notable feature in your face, in your body, that reminds you of them. fear that's enough to turn you emotional in all your good days, that ruins a happiness you haven't felt for a decade, even more.
fear will always control.
damian will always have control over you, he'll always have the upper-hand.
sometimes, the innocent, young boy you try to find behind the exterior of hatred turns out to be a hideous monster all throughout.
unfortunately, you see that monster in you, too.
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a/n: we love complicated relationship dynamics!!! i just woke up and was like, "wait, i have an idea." LMAO. idk half of what i wrote, did i eat with this drabble? maybe. ignore my sudden disappearance sometimes, in another life i'm a hermit crab who hides in its shell probably.
— if i wrote damian here to be too "evil," it's because it's written in the perspective of the reader and their trauma. i don't want him to be this one-dimensional character, he's one of my favorites after all, but i need to establish the relationships and writing drabbles like these help a lot in portraying how they see each other. damian sees you in a different light (you make him weak), and you do too— but both see each other in some twisted perspective of loving each other because you're both still siblings at the end of the day (i'm gonna write more about this too).
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kurooangel · 15 hours ago
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❝ HAVING FUN? ❞
ᯓsynopsis: walking in while you're touching yourself.
ᯓwarnings: smut. f!reader. fingering. pet names (pretty girl, baby). sakusa and suna call reader slut. english isn't my first language, sorry if there's any mistake!! masterlist.
ᯓfeaturing: miya atsumu ⊹ ࣪ ˖ kuroo tetsuro ⊹ ࣪ ˖ sakusa kiyomi ⊹ ࣪ ˖ suna rintaro !
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★ miya atsumu .ᐟ
he leans against the door frame as he watches you. you're arching your back, your walls hugging your digits. they're too small to please you as your boyfriend does, but you're so needy since atsumu has been out for a week because an out of country tournament and you have missed him so, so much. but when you hear a chuckle, you freeze. you turn around to see him with a grin on his stupidly handsome face. "need some help, pretty girl?"
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★ kuroo tetsuro .ᐟ
you wake up alone on your bed and feeling overheated. your nipples are hard and you have a thin layer of sweat all over your body, and you curse the damn japanese volleyball association for keeping your man too busy. your hand go down your body and you start playing with your clit, just as tetsuro does. it's not as good as when he does it, but it's enough to make you moan. when you're about to sink your fingers in your core, the bedroom door opens. shit, today is his free day, you remember. "you just had to go to the kitchen if you needed me, baby. now tell me how much you want it and I may help you"
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★ sakusa kiyoomi .ᐟ
you're laying on your bed using your dildo while omi is — or at least you think so — at practice. your back arches off the mattress as you sink it further in your dripping cunt and you grab the sheets beneath you with your free hand. you speed up the dildo and your grip on it and on the covers tightens, a loud moan leaves your mouth, eyes shut as you imagine that is sakusa's dick making you feel good, even if he is quite bigger. "s-sshit, omi!" you whine, and you gulp when you hear a very familiar voice answering with a husky tone. "yes?" your eyes are wide opened and you pull out the dildo. you try to speak, but he does before you can say a word, his stern tone leaving no room for a reply. "you're just a needy slut, raise that pretty ass f'me and let me show you what a real dick is"
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★ suna rintaro .ᐟ
his green eyes are fixed on your body, you're on four on your king sized bed as your fingers bury deep inside your gummy walls. he can't help but feel jealous of it, that's his pussy you're touching, he should be the one feeling how you clench around him, not your stupid fingers. so you gasp when a hard spank lands on your ass. his fingers tangle in your hair and he pulls you up, your back flush against his chest and you can feel his breath against your ear. "I don't know why you keep acting like you can cum when you know perfectly fine that you need my cock for that"
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hopelesslydevoted2paige · 2 days ago
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010. bet u wanna
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pairings: paige bueckers x fem singer!reader
word count: 434
warnings: loving another while in a relationship
su's notes: happy holidays!! guess whos back... im so sorry for not updating at all ive been losing motivation but the fact that people still read this and want more pushes me to write 🥹 thank u guys for the support even if i havent been updating..
series masterlist
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i bet you miss me, i bet you're reminiscing
a week later
Paige groaned, rolling around the bed with her hands on her head, pounding from another hangover.
She turned towards the open door, facing her girlfriend who had knocked twice.
"Hey, you okay?"
The blonde sniffled. "Yeah."
Amaia nodded. "Okay. I'll be outside if you need me."
"Okay, thanks."
'She would've stayed with me.' Paige thought about you for the millionth time this week.
She remembered everything that happened that night. All she could think about were the possibilities, would you have gotten back with her if she wasn't drunk? If you guys were in a better setting?
She ran her hand through her long hair, missing the feeling of your touch as she opened her TV.
The moment she opened YouTube, she immediately recognized your face from one of the recent interviews you did for your new album.
She heard your voice introducing yourself, not even realizing she had clicked on the video and placed the remote down.
"-And i'm here to do the Wired autocomplete interview!" You grinned, making Paige's face warm up.
"When does the new album come out." You said outloud as you peeled the paper off. "It's already out! Go check it out on Spotify, Apple Music or any listening platform!"
"Does-" You read your name outloud as you peeled another strip paper off. "-watch basketball? Yes! I love supporting my friend, Azzi Fudd who is on the UCONN women's basketball team and-" You stopped yourself. "And yeah!"
The blonde girl frowned, feeling the jealousy pit at the bottom of her stomach.
"Who is the song 'nonsense' about?" You chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. "That's for me to know, and for you guys to find out." You winked and grabbed another board of questions.
Paige paused the video, rushing to type the song on the search bar and clicking the first result that popped up.
Millions of thoughts raced through her head as she listened to the lyrics. Were you seeing someone else?
She grabbed her phone from her side table and pulled up her messages with Azzi.
paige: azzi
azzi: what
paige: does she still live with you?
azzi: no hi, no how are you doing?
azzi: yes she does
paige: is she seeing someone?
azzi: not that i know of.
azzi: not that i would tell you
paige: i know i messed up, okay?
paige: i still love her.
azzi: then prove it
paige: how?
paige: she won't listen to me
azzi: cause you were drunk
azzi: obviously she wouldve thought you didnt mean it
azzi: make it up to her before its too late.
i bet you hate the way that you said goodbye and you still can't even tell me why
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ohmykinks · 3 days ago
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Papai
Noel !
Sum :: Santa in portuguese is "papai noel" ; that has the word daddy introduced in the first word, christmas has arrived and they want to make a special gift to their girlfriend
Warnings: MINOR Writing (Anti's DNI) + Proceed with caution + Semi public sex + Hold the moan + Daddy kink + Breeding kink ( Toji, Geto ) + Degradation ( Toji, Gojo, Sukuna ) + Oral ( M - Geto ) + Cowgirl (Toji) + Fingering ( Gojo ) + Petnames ( babe, love, princess ) + Rough sex ( Sukuna, Toji ) + Soft mdom ( Geto, Gojo) + Praise + Jjk x Fem reader
A/n: A Christmas special! Happy holidays to y'all! remembering, I'm a minor so if you don't like it just don't interact
Gojo + Geto + Toji + Sukuna
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Satoru ::
“What a nasty girl huh? Arching so good for me...” - He whispered fixing his hands, pushing deeper and deeper into his girlfriend tight hole; which tried to expel his fingers squeezing against it
“My family is in the living room! Slowly please..! ~ Mmm-” — moaned needily against the palm of your own hand, feeling your spongy walls squeeze his fingers tightly
“I guess da princess should stop moaning like a whore then, fragile girl” — He said speeding up the movements, and with his thumb, making circular movements on your clit, making you arch your back just like a cat
“That's the way I like, a obedient good girl, you're so warm inside... Y'know that babe?” He spoke as he searched for your g-spot, curling his fingers, rubbing them on your insides
“I usually don't go that hard on ya, but you look so adorable and palpable on this dress! I can barely... A-ah.. Resist”
He could barely contain his own noises, his eyes charged with desire and lust, which made your skin shiver, a shiver rising up your spine as you felt something rising in your insides; the world melted completely as the heat of the moment increased
“Betcha you been thinking of daddy's fingers fucking you senseless while you cant even remember you own name huh?”
You could barely think straight, sweat running down your face, your dress already crumpled, occasionally being pulled up from your waist; Satoru hates being distracted while fucking his girl
“Like t-that daddy! Ri... Right there- Dont..”
“Stop? Chill... I wont” Satoru speed up the movements of his fingers, you felt that at any moment Satoru would reach the entrance of your womb, his fingers were so long that the only reaction you could have was to moan like a little bitch and roll eyes back to your head
Your orgasm already was almost dripping out of you, when a warm wave hit your body, you put your head back, releasing all your juices out, soaking Satoru hand completely
He pulls his fingers out with a loud, wet “pop!” and brings his two digits to his slightly pink lips, tasting your juices
“Could you squirt on my cock too?”
Suguru ::
He held the back of your neck, bringing you closer to him, your nose brushing against his crotch
Every time the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, you heard soft frustrated moans from Geto, there was a slight blush on his cheeks; Christmas dinner was almost ready, and the two of you in the room, while anyone suspected what might be going on inside
“Greedy girl... Betcha can't even put me whole in your-- A-aah!” — Your throat swallowed him whole, with small and light gags, which went unnoticed by Suguru
He held your hair tight, guiding your movements back and forth, while you held his thighs, nails gripping his skin, leaving red marks
“Atta girl” — Suguru said, giving a little caress to your hair, running his fingers between them, stopping to look at your beautiful face - “Squeezing daddy so tight... If ya continue at this pace, I'll end up painting your cute pink lips white”
“When I cum... Swallow it all babe, you're lucky I won't cum inside your cunt”
“Y-yeeaahh d-... d-daddy...” — You spoke between his cock, your voice muffled, rolling your eyes, choking more intensely
You huge and hungry eyes looking at him from below made Suguru horny, very very horny, he bit his lower lip gently, trapped on the feeling of your tight throat around his cock
“Gosh, I wish this was your wet pussy love... Fuck! Make me cum princess... Make daddy fucking cum...”
Your muffled moans echoed through the room, Geto's sounds forming a contrast between yours, his grip on your hair losing strength, his body getting softer, while a drop of sweat ran down his forehead
“gonna... Ngh!~... C-cumming!” — His seed hit the back of your throat, making you gag, your cheeks full of Suguru's cum, swallowing it all and then licking your lips
“Now... Lets have a creampie, shall we?”
Toji ::
“fuck!~ Jus' like tha!-” — He held your hips, pulling you down on his cock, which drew a moan from your lips
“Bounce on my dick just like da desperate whore you are..” — The bed hit the wall, you could barely move, Toji helped you, slapping your ass
“Pathetic! Ya barely sat on me and already need help” — Grumbled, Toji had no idea how big he was, and how much he stretch the entrance of his girlfriend pussy when penetrating
“t-too... B-big..” — You answered him, trying to get used to his size, starting to move without help, with slight movements up and down
Toji grabbed your breasts, pinching the nipples, drawing moans from you lips, you writhed against his cock, putting your head back; trying to cover your mouth, but he held you wrists so tight, you can barely move
“What nice tits... 'Come here” - You came closer, while he grabbed you, licking your nipples, running his tongue between them, while with the other hand, he squeezed the other so hard as to leave a mark
“D-daddy... Slow down plea- mmmmm~” - You could barely finish your sentences without interrupting them with a satisfied moan; in response to Toji's taunts, you rolled your waist, as you went up and down on his cock; like an elevator
“C'mon, you can take it, It's not like ya haven't swallowed daddy's cock with tha tight little pussy before” — Toji encouraged you, with his face still on your breasts, the bed making noises as loud as the two of you made sure everyone was listening
The encouragement motivated you to go harder, you went up and down with more intensity, each thrust made you turn your eyes back to your head, it was all driving you crazy; Toji grabbed your ass, nails sinking into your soft skin, making you not even 1 centimeter away from his balls when bouncing
“that's riiiight... Cum for me bitch, make this pussy drip all over my cock” — Toji said amidst grunts, rubbing your rounded clit with his thumb
“gonna make you a fucking mommy-” — It wasn't the first time and not even the last he came inside, and you loved to cum along with him
“Make me pregnant please daddy! Ngh! ~... Aaaaaaah~ Toji~” - You moaned needily, gently grabbing Toji's hair, breasts swaying deliciously
You both felt tight feelings inside you, heavy breaths, warm and passionate kisses, you both could feel that at any moment you were going to explode
“c-cumming...!” — You gave a last hoarse moan, feeling his cum run down your thighs, you fell with your head against his shoulder, sweaty and breathing unregulated, his thick hot seed spreading inside you; and as soon as you got off him, it was dripping out of your entrance
“I think she had more fun than the two of us babe...” — Toji said pulling you into his arms
“Next Christmas, I'm going to buy a toy as a gift for our son... It's going to be a boy”
Sukuna ::
“what a nasty bitch huh? Begging me to fuck ya while your parents are preparing dinner for Christmas when i told you to wait” — He thrust into her pussy while one of his hands covered her face
"Youre such a tease"
“Be very quiet for daddy, and maybe I'll let you cum, disgusting little thing...” — Sukuna cursed you while slapping your pussy, making you moan against his palm
“Shameless girl... Don't you feel sorry for being such a slut? Tell me youre sorry” — He increased his speed and thrust deeper, waiting for an answer
“I-im sorry, I-im sorry, Please forgive me... A-aaaaaaahhh... Just like that 'Kuna”
“Are you sorry about what nasty girl?” — 'Kuna tested you, wanted to see you lose control, wanted you to moan his name loudly for everyone to hear
“For being a bitch who doesn't know how to wait...” — He felt satisfied with the answer, going faster, hitting your sweet spot with the head of his cock; he circulated with two digits on your fat and rounded clit from excitement
“That's more like it” — He held your neck as a support for every thrust he gave to your tight pussy
“Squeezing me soooooo good... You are so hot, your tits shaking.. make me want to just kiss them” — Sukuna squeezed your soft globes, drawing murmurs from your lips
“I-i want to cum...” — You said needy, your eyes hungry for your own peak, hands squeezing the sheets
Sukuna increased speed and pressure, pinning you to the bed by the neck, squeezing moderately
“i wanna cum- i-i wanna cum- please let me cum! L-let me cummmm-” — Begged to cum, while you felt your head spinning, Sukuna cock making you see stars
“Pretty please, where's your manners greddy girl?” — He smirked, teasing you once more
“pretty please pretty please pretty please pretty please pretty please prett- O-ooooh~ Fuck!” — And when you least expected it, you already squirted on his cock, his thumb still on your clit, rubbing slowly circles; he went down, sticking his tongue in you entrance, penetrating two fingers, and then, looking directly into your eyes
“i guess you'll get punished for cumming early”
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seat-safety-switch · 3 days ago
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Whenever there's a crime in the town that has to deal with old Japanese cars, I'm the guy they call to solve it. My name is Detective Archibald Shitpope, and this is not one of those cases. Once in awhile, and I know it's hard to believe, something happens that's not about vintage Nipponese iron.
I was hand-washing my manual-swapped '92 Sera in the parking lot of the station when I heard a loud sigh from the next car over. It was my sometimes-lunch-buddy, sometimes-drinking-buddy Investigator Lionel Tout. He came from England, as part of a "detective transfer" that involved us finally getting rid of Detective Giorgio Mustang, who I genuinely hated. Dude would sit in the detective's bullpen and make idling-cammed-V8 noises the entire time he was thinking. I hope he enjoys Luxembourg and never wants to come back.
Tout, though, was a special case. His fixation? Trains. You've got three guesses what mode of transportation we don't have in our city. Hell, a few years back, the mayor then ordered the removal of the federal cargo train lines, convinced that A) he could sell the tracks for quick cash to a metal scrapper, and B) self-driving cars would soon deliver all of our stuff. Zero for two there, hoss, which is why he was literally crucified during an elementary-school Christmas play. That wasn't on the kids. It was the janitor trying to use it as a convenient way to dispose of a body. I got the call, because he had a 4Runner, but the responding officers figured it out real fast before I got there.
Tout came to town after that. Every day, he got a little more depressed that he wasn't able to solve crimes anymore. Back in Europe, he told me, he once solved a locked-room murder mystery. An heiress (or countess, I can't remember which) had lost her crown jewels and a man died to cover it up. Big deal in all the news, but Tout made the mistake of fixating too much on the train and not enough on the press. Solved the case, but his rival on the force got the promotion to Inspector First Class and the rest is history. Now he's here, drowning his sorrows in a mug full of rum shaped like Thomas the Tank Engine. And that gave me an idea.
That night, I phoned Tout at home. "Inspector," I tried to sound as much like a frightened old dispatch-desk lady as possible, "they've found a body at Uncle Steamy's Good-Time Hobby Emporium. You better get over there right away!"
The rest was all a detective's dream: a murder scene amongst a jealous swarm of model train hobbyists. Tons of passionate suspects, all with inconvenient alibis. A spiral of clues easily missed by lesser mortals. No security camera footage. And at the end of it, a perfect accusation and a tearful confession.
As he carried a perp (Jimmy One-Shoe, formerly arrested for foot crimes at the Payless) to the squad car, he noticed something sitting on the back seat. A little scale model of a Japanese Odakyu Limited Express "Romancecar."
Merry Christmas, Inspector. If the chief asks where I've been for the last two weeks, you tell him I was doing some detective shit, alright?
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singemall-stayallnight · 2 days ago
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The history of the song Lana is quoting:
“He Hit Me (and It Felt Like a Kiss),” The Crystals (1962)
In light of her later reputation as a beacon of female empowerment, it's jarring to realize that (Carole) King had a hand in creating this notorious paean to abuse, which makes "Chains" scan like a feminist anthem by comparison. Even more troubling is that the song has its roots in reality. Eva Boyd arrived at Goffin and King's home one night covered in bruises after a visit with her boyfriend. The concerned couple questioned her, but, as King remembered in her 2012 memoir, "she sort of smiled before she went to her room, and she said, 'He really loves me.'" Boyd and her boyfriend would reportedly marry by the end of the year.
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Eva Boyd with Carole King and Gerry Goffin.
Disturbed and dumbfounded by Boyd's response, Goffin attempted to write lyrics that gave voice to a problem that didn't yet have a name.
"He was like, 'Really?' King explained in a 2012 interview with NPR. "It wasn't speaking for me, but it was something that Gerry wanted to write because he felt the same and [this] was his way of getting it out there. Maybe he had a little irony going in his mind because he was really intelligent. … So maybe that's why it got written."
Whatever irony might have been intended was lost in the song's chilling arrangement. In a macabre twist, "He Hit Me (and It Felt Like a Kiss)" was produced by future convicted murderer Phil Spector, who insisted the Crystals sing the song with utmost sincerity. The women had a hard time summoning the emotion. "That was weird for us," confirms La La Brooks of the Crystals in a 2011 issue of Mojo. "We were thrown aback by the song. I'm a teenager at the time. [Crystals singer] Barbara [Alston] was a little uneasy doing it. And I was trying to figure out the song and why Phil would record something like this. Barbara was so turned off because she was singing the lyrics and can't feel anything. So in the studio Phil was telling her, 'Don't be so relaxed on it.'"
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The Crystals, 1962. From left to right, they are Patricia Wright, Dolores 'La La' Brooks, Barbara Alston and Dee Dee Kenniebrew.
"He Hit Me (and It Felt Like a Kiss)" was met with an immediate outcry when it was released that July. Few bought it, and many radio stations refused to play it after fielding angry calls from listeners. Spector, rarely one to back down, ultimately withdrew the single. Even as an album track on the Crystal's 1963 LP He's a Rebel, the song remained infamous.
Half a century later, King has an uneasy relationship with the title. "I wrote the music to 'He Hit Me (and It Felt Like A Kiss).' Obviously, I'm complicit in having written that song. I kind of wish I hadn't written any part of that song, but Gerry wrote that lyric. … And I think in some ways – I'm only speculating – that for some women that may be the only manifestation of what they perceive as love. And that's certainly true for the woman in that song. And you know, that's all wrong. So, again, that's one song I kind of wish I hadn't had any part of writing."
He Hit Me and It Felt Like a Kiss - In popular culture
Lana Del Rey uses the line "He hit me and it felt like a kiss" in her 2014 song "Ultraviolence" from the album of the same name. Prior to this, she used it in her unreleased song "Beautiful Player."
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rillils · 2 days ago
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RILS!!! RILS RILS RILS RILS.
bucky in the new what if episode. red guardian told him to close his eyes, and guess what bucky saw? his first memory?
guess?
CONEY ISLAND
LITERALLY THEM ^^^
Oh my gosh 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
fuck fuck fuck
I haven't watched the episode, but I keep seeing this everywhere and it's doing things to my heart 😭 oh my gosh honey, honeyyyyy 😭😭 To think that the first thing he could remember about his past was this!! Going to Coney Island!! With Steve!!!! This is the first menory that comes back to him? I'MA CRY
I need to know more about this 😭 like how did it happen and what did he see and how did he feel and and and this is going to be all I can think about for the next week 😭😭
THAT SONG THOUGH 🥺🥺🥺 With all the raw longing and the heartache and the memories-- oh fuck, it really IS them, it's basically their anthem!! HONEY I AM A MESS OF EMOTIONS, WHAT DO I DOOOOOO
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pillowspace · 8 hours ago
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Hihi!! Could I have some ISAT fic recs? Hurt/comfort is my fav but anything good is good~ Thank you!
I've read 200 ISAT fics, I'm gonna really have to think on which ones to put
Okay, here's your recs from my 200 fic scroll in no particular order <3 There's so many fics I like that I didn't put here, but I had to be picky about it so I didn't just put down everything I had
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victim of your own creation by dysphoriahighschool
Siffrin has craved blood for as long as they can remember. After so many years of wandering, he's come to Vaugarde in hope of finding answers, just as the King's Curse begins freezing the country in time. He's quickly losing hope, but when they come across a small group determined to save Vaugarde from the King, Siffrin decides to join them. They can't get the answers they want if the country gets frozen in time, after all. They'd never traveled with other people before. Siffrin doesn't expect to grow attached to any of them, but as time goes on, the thought of leaving them hurts more and more. Worse yet, they refuse to even entertain the thought of one of them discovering what he is and what he's done. They just know that if they find out, they'll hate them.
Words: 192,175 | Chapters: 32/?
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Stagger on Backwards by entryn17
[Ha… Ah?]
The fist opens. Hand turns. Fingers twirl. Again. And Again. You watch with mounting horror as your hand moves on its own, the actions becoming more frantic, more jittery, your chest starts to heave, stomach muscles spasming.
(Loop–)
[Stardust–]
They’re in your body. They’re in your body.
Or, after experiencing hundreds of grueling loops, Siffrin suddenly wakes up 3 months before they even started, on a bed in an infirmary, bandages wrapped tightly around their newly missing eye. Loop is there with them, too.
Words: 15,213 | Chapters: 3/?
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UNCANNY ALL ALONG by entryn17
You can… you can still fix this. If you can just muster up enough want, you, both of you can come back from this.
“You can’t come back from anything! Hundreds of days spent in stasis, in your own personal handcrafted hell, an ice cold inferno – you think you’re the same person you were before you laid down on that meadow?”
Or, trauma changes you, often in ways that leave you unrecognizable to even yourself. Now freshly out of the loops and rough around the edges, Siffrin with the help of their friends has to navigate not being the person they remember.
Words: 33,629 | Chapters: 8/?
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Even in my fantasy, I can't commit to believing by Loafabun
You’re not sure what to think of Loop.
So far, you’ve come to two rather obvious conclusions during your time around them.
1) They’re… a star.
2) You don’t think they like you that much.
Words: 18,275 | Chapters: 3/3
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Human After All by dunkalfredo
Isabeau, freshly recovered from burnout after rushing through graduate school, stumbles across an ad for a lab position at the research institute where his idol, Dr. Odile Yamamoto, conducts her work. Willing to risk another bout of burnout to potentially work with the Dr. Yamamoto, he applies for the position and gets the job. However, in the process of applying, it quickly becomes clear that something sinister is happening at this institute. He decides to go forward and accept the offer—only to find himself in way over his head in a conspiracy far bigger than himself.
(Or: Modern AU/Sci-fi. Isabeau goes back into the world of science after swearing it off only to end up in the Vaugarde equivalent of Area 51 and finds Siffrin, a shapeshifter of unknown origins, trapped deep underground in a padded cell. Unfortunately, he falls in love. Is their romance doomed? Could Siffrin ever escape? What is Siffrin, anyway? And, importantly—how does Odile factor into all of this?)
Words: 33,697 | Chapters: 3/8
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The Funeral of Siffrin No Last Name by Kamary (SERIES of fics about ghost Siffrin)
"Ha, like, cut your ashes in equal parts like a pizza?"
(In a timeline that can not and will not take place, Siffrin dies. Unlike other times, he stays dead. Sort of.)
Words: 18,969 | Works: 3
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Inutile by blueshine
Mirabelle doesn't know what to do. Not with her life, not with her faith, not with her own memory. Why does it feel like she's always forgetting something important?
Mirabelle is the Housemaiden. Isabeau is the Fighter. Odile is the Researcher. Bonnie is the Kid. And that's everyone!
It's raining in Dormont. If clouds cover the stars, are they still there?
Separate Sifloops-
Words: 173,378 | Chapters: 23/34
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What became of you? by goldviola (Note: this one can get dark. I'm including it because I like it, but only read it if you're in that kind of mood)
After the world returned to normal, and everyone was safe and together once again, Isabeau noticed Siffrin's state. He knows they endured far beyond what he could ever hope to understand.
So a vague, earnest wish, mostly symbolic, was made, folded into a star shaped leaf gifted by a little girl.
I wish I could truly understand Siffrin, and always be there to help and love him.
Isabeau had no way of knowing The Universe would listen.
Or: Isabeau gets stuck in his own time loop, and does everything in his power to change it.
Words: 27,746 | Chapters: 1/1
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Of Stars and Longing by Raaj
Months after saving Vaugarde together, Isabeau spots Siffrin lingering outside the window of his clothing shop. Naturally, he's excited! The Universe granted his wish!
...It still feels a little bad he had to wish for it, though. And something seems off with Siffrin.
Words: 4,979 | Chapters: 2/2
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The love persists through it all. (The love persists through time.) by Pixxyofice
You are standing in front of a building. Nothing else is around- just a building. The building has a sign above a single door in big letters: TIME LOOP SURVIVORS SUPPORT GROUP. Hanging from that sign is a smaller sign reading Multidimensional!
... What the....
[...]
You let go of the door and look up as it clicks shut behind you.
You see
your family.
---
siffrin meets up with versions of his family who have suffered like he did. is this a blessing or a curse?
Words: 12,015 | Chapters: 1/?
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Follow the stars back home by Loafabun (note: I haven't actually finished this fic, but I'd like to!)
There's an island north of Vaugarde. You were never able to remember its name. So why now? Why after all this time?
It's so close. You can see it now.
You want to go home.
Inspired by a post on Tumblr by @/auncyen!
Words: 77,781 | Chapters: 16/16
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Thank you, kind wizard. For making me a frog. by Spinning_Planet_of_Love
With Siffrin's timelooping journey at an end, he walks away with a LOT of new information and trauma to process. Moving forward is a difficult feat, even with his family by his side.
Mirabelle suggests that, perhaps, keeping a journal to organize these thoughts and communicate his feelings to the others may help, so he decides to give it a try.
-
Contains spoilers for ALL content in ISAT, including achievements and quests dialogue, and eventually the epilogue too.
Words: 74,662 | Chapters: 18/?
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Bleeding in Monochrome by JustSalPals
You're the first one to notice.
(After the events of the game, red stayed in this world of black and white.)
Words: 3,061 | Chapters: 1/1
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And if I were not myself, would this be easier? by rabbit_soup
Siffrin and his party's journey to Bambouche, and how he needs to learn to deal with what happened to him during the loops. Between nightmares, regaining his humanity, and his new-found PTSD, Siffrin is sure he's being a burden to his family. They, however, think otherwise.
Hopefully they'll make it to Bambouche in one piece.
Or
Siffrin is traumatized and his friends love him a whole lot.
Words: 63,086 | Chapters: 13/?
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Natural Satellite by dirtbagtrashcat
After a hundred miserable loops, Siffrin makes a wish. Isabeau gets caught in the crossfire.
(…yes, it’s another Isa Loops AU. but hear me out! rock might beat scissors, but there’s no stone in the cosmos that can resist the gravitational pull of a star.)
Words: 55,043 | Chapters: 14/14
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Bloom by Level99Eevee
After breaking free of the loops, Siffrin is more than ready to move on and enjoy life again. They’re with their family—their friends—for another journey, one without the King’s Curse nipping at their heels, and everyone will be together for the foreseeable future. So Siffrin is fine. Great, even! The others don’t need to know that the aftermath of their experience in Dormont still hangs heavy as a noose around their neck.
They just need to get over it.
-
Or: Siffrin has trauma, learning to open up is a process, and the others realize the loops left deeper scars than previously thought.
Words: 41,445 | Chapters: 7/7
To Cut You Open With a Knife and Find Your Sacred Heart by Hexea_Art
They didn't know how they remembered but they both knew that there are legends about these fae doppelgangers, that they wish for nothing more than to steal the heart of the person whose face they stole, for power, for acceptance, to trick more people, to lessen how uncanny they could be.
Either way, it's a death wish to be around someone who shares the same face.
So of course Siffrin and Loop decided to travel together.
(Aka an ISAT changeling AU)
Words: 73,358 | Chapters: 19/21
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raconte-moi qu’on puisse crier tout bas by bibliomaniac
After everything, Loop is struggling to find their place in the world. Siffrin is struggling to adjust to life outside the loops. Isabeau is struggling to balance his love for Siffrin with his need to keep them safe, alongside his own worries about Changing. Politely, things could be better!
But when Loop joins the party on their journey, things tilt even more drastically off course. They'll all need to reconcile their past with their present growing feelings and with the future they're beginning to want. Maybe they'll even do it, too.
It will just blinding suck along the way.
Words: 100,632 | Chapters: 17/?
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ghostlight by Kittenixie
ghostlight - a single lamp placed on stage to keep the theatre from being in total darkness after everyone’s gone.
After trying and failing to kill Siffrin to take his place, Loop tries to disappear. Siffrin makes them stay. They figure things out together.
Staying with Siffrin's party in Dormont's House of Change, Loop starts down the long, winding path towards recovery, carefully trying to navigate the complicated knot of trauma and grief that the loops have left behind.
Words: 86,075 | Chapters: 24/24
Sequel is back to one | Words: 71,525 | Chapters: 14/?
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Text
thanks for tagging me!!
last song: ready 1 by grinspoon
favourite colour: purple!!
last book: the book i'm currently reading is the ministry of time and i think the last one i finished was a collection of aussie short horror stories that i can't remember the name of
last movie: love actually! it was sooo good and i can't believe i hadn't seen it before
last tv show: either house md or black books
sweet/spicy/savoury: sweet :D
relationship status: single :)
last thing i googled duckduckgoed: before sunrise movie
current obsession: house md + dead poets society
looking forward to: catching up with more family for christmas + reading all the books i got :)
tagging (no pressure!!): @halfbakedideas @halfdeadwallfly (don't know if you do tag games but oh well) @unidentifiedlyingobject @charliecow @alien-with-headphones @obsessedobsesser + anyone i've missed or who wants to join <3
people i'd like to know better tag game!
tagged by @endof-vanity thank uuu ^-^
last song: ... everybody wants to rule the world by tears for fears
favourite colour: green!!!! :DD
last book: last book i properly finished was the name of the rose by umberto eco :'] i have my fingers in too many others
last movie: megalopolis! it was shit <3
last tv show: nbc's hannibal in 2021 LMAO but i am watching amc's the terror. or trying to
sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury!! i would say spice if i was better at it </3
relationship status: single >.<
last thing i googled: 50bc attalus. lol. and a directory for a mall at the same time
current obsession: m...my catie,,,, self explanatory i don't have to justify myself. also monks. reading a monklove book,,,
looking forward to: going out with my friends this sunday! maybe going overseas next june! yippee :3
tagging: @quia-nominor--leo @enlitment @monksexualizer @xxmarvelouslifexx @courtjester69420 if you'd like to doooo itttt <3
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elyxir1zz · 1 day ago
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★ — New years party
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CW : Sevika x reader, a tinnnny bit of jayce x reader, making out, no porn, but suggestive dialoge, making out, modern au, vi and sevika are besties, pure fluff, no use of y/n
A/N : this was gonna be a christmas fic but i wasnt able to finish it till today sooo...hope you guys enjoy! oh AND im working on the eneimes to lovers fic, it should be out tommrow night (hopefully)
Sevika was friends with your sister, vi. They had started working together at a mechanic shop and had their lunch breaks together which was code for smoking weed for an hour then coming back to work, handling heavy machinery. Eventually vi invited Sevika to a new years party. Sevika wasn't really one for non rave parties but vi told her that there were cute girls there. So sevika agreed, however there was a ugly christmas sweater contest but no matter how much vi begged so she threw on a pair of baggy jeans and a cropped tank top 
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You and Jinx sat on the couch, you were painting her nails for the party as she watched some hallmark movie ekko put on. Then vi walked in “so i invited a co-worker to the party” vi said sitting next to you and jinx “uh seriously, is it that divorced dad who got drunk at the halloween party?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows “no-” vi began to say before jinx interrupted “ooo maybe it's that frat boy who got caught with that 50 year old professor?” she asked and you nodded looking at her “no its not-” vi ventured “is it-” “LET ME TALK” vi shouted “jeez” jinx rolled her eyes
“It's a woman and her name is Sevika,” Vi exclaimed crossing her arms “is she old?” Jinx asked, “is she hot?” you giggled “oh! Is she a milf?” jinx suggested “you know you will find that out when she gets here” . Vi stood up walking out of the room “was that seriously all she came in here for?” you roll your eyes “i know right just send a text, this isn't the 1850s” jinx grumbled “wait did they have texting then?” she continued “uh i don't think so..maybe?”  you shook your head as jinx pulled out her phone, searching it up “no they didn't” jinx sighed “you know if texting was a thing we would have avoided a lot of wars” you said “probably”
“Hey is something burning?” ekko yelled from the other room, you and jinx exchange looks “the cake!” you yell remembering you and jinx made a cake and put it in the oven like 45 minutes ago “oh shit” jinx can't help but laugh as you both run to the kitchen, jinx opens the oven and a bunch of smoke leaves it, you cough as she took it out, setting it on the counter “it can be saved right?” she asked “uhhh. Probably” you say “let's put some icing and cherries on it” she countered 
Ekko walks in “uh is everything okay?” he asked raising an eyebrow, you and jinx look over “yeah! Just the cakes a little crispy” jinx smiled as ekko approached “i dont think-” ekko touched the cake “this is cement, jinx. This isn't edible” ekko looked back to jinx who was making a very sad face “you know what? Maybe it is salvageable, I'm sure it’ll taste great.” ekko sighed and patted his girlfriends back “i knew you were gonna come around” you smiled, watching him walk out of the kitchen 
“So, is jayce coming to the party tonight?” Jinx asked as she began icing the cake, looking at you “uh..i asked him too, but lately he's been a little…” you look off to the side “a little..?” jinx retorted “distracted? I guess?” you sighed leaning on the counter “what do you mean?” she countered “well he's just like, he's becoming a little soft..the bedroom” you and jinx were comfortable talking about your personal lives, being so close in age and all “like he cant get it up?” jinx bit back a laugh, earning a frown from you “no! He's like, i don't know…I just feel like i have to do everything” 
You sigh holding your forehead “he just doesn't seem interested in me anymore..i mean have i changed? Did I gain weight?” Jinx was appalled that you doubted yourself because of him “no, and even if you did it would be completely normal, humans biologically gain more weight in the winter then the summer and besides, he's not worth it if he sees you like that.” jinx ranted “your right” you say looking at the floor “What if he's gay” Jinx asked. “i don't think so, i mean he looks like he's enjoying it so” you ponder “maybe he's bisexual?” jinx added “maybe…” you cross your arms “lets just..enjoy tonight, okay?” you add the cherries onto the cake “of course” jinx replied softly
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“Do we have to listen to Christmas music when christmas was 5 days ago.” ekko groaned, leaning his head back. Everyone was chatting, drinking, or making out somewhere. Jinx rolled her eyes “yes it's in season.” she scoffed. Vi looked over at the door where she heard the knocking, opening it and seeing sevika “vika!” Vi greeted moving to let her in “vika?” sevika asked looking at vi with a raised eyebrow “sevika? seVIKA? It's a nickname, something you call someone to shorten their name” vi laughed
“I know what a nickname is, vi” sevika rolled her eyes “my question is, why did you give me one?” she asked “i thought it was time id give you one of my famous nicknames” vi snickered, wrapping her arm around sevikas shoulder “i feel so special” sevika said sarcastically, walking into the living room where everyone was “this is my sister jinx, i have another somewhere around here but she's probably making out with her boyfriend.” vi frowned  “That's her boyfriend, Ekko and my fiance, caitlyn.” Vi smiled “and everyone else you can find out for yourself” she continued patting sevika on the back “let's get you a drink.”
You were looking for your boyfriend, knocking on all of the doors before opening them “jayce?” you call out walking down the hallway. You reach the final door, sighing as you open it “jayce?” you flip the light switch on The first thing you see is jayce on top of viktor “TURN THE LIGHT OFF!” jayce yells as you scream, turning the light off and slam the door you turn around running down the hallway and down the stairs. Your hand was resting over your mouth in shock 
Sevika looked at you as you ran past, seeing nothing but beauty in you “who-” sevika coughed “who was that” she looked at vi “that was my sister” vi sipped her champagne. “I'll be right back” jinx looked at ekko “of course..” Ekko muttered quietly, worried about you. Jinx walked out onto the backyard porch. Finding you leaning against the porch “Is everything okay?” jinx closed the back door behind her. You turned to her with a cigarette in your mouth, struggling to light it “I thought you quit.” Jinx said with worry laced in her voice “I'm trying!” you snapped, finally lighting it and breathing the smoke out 
Jinx frowned, she walked over, leaning against the railing next to you. You felt the guilt stab itself into your chest “im- im sorry” you say softly. “It's okay- just- What happened?” Jinx asked as you offered the cigarette to her. She hesitates before taking it and bringing it to her lips “jayce is cheating on me.” you say bluntly earning a cough from jinx “oh my god” she breathed heavily. “Yup.” you sigh “do you know who?” Jinx asked. Viktors face flashed in your mind. “No- i didn't get a good look at them” you lie
You hear footsteps behind you, you turn around. “I thought you quit.” jayce chuckled nervously as you twirl the cigarette in your fingers, shooting him a look as Jinx walks past him and into the house “im…sorry” jayce said looking at the ground “i'm sure you are.” you turn your back on him “i- it's not like i never loved you” jayce pauses “i did.” jayces voice ran down your spine. “But, i started liking viktor and he made me feel different. Like you did when we first met.”
Tears betrayed your eyes, squeezing them shut as you wiped your cheeks “why didn't you break up with me as soon as you felt yourself losing feelings” your voice broke. “Did you invite him here on purpose? Just so i would find you 2?” you muttered. “Do me a favor, get out of my life, including vi’s.” you continued “what? You can't just-” “get out.” you cut jayce off and he scoffs and leaves. You breath, take a deep breath in, going back inside. Luckily nobody questioned you, everyone was still chatting and listening to music as you walked over to the kitchen island where sevika and vi were. you took a bottle of whiskey and started chugging it
Vi smelled the stench of cigarette on you. Sevika did not, since she was used to the smell and just ignored it subconsciously.  “i thought you quit” vi said for the 3rd time “leave me alone!” you snap again “jeez im sorry” vi rolled her eyes. You scrunch your face, mouth full of whiskey as you swallow it. Sevika couldn't stop making glances at you trying to look longer each time “problem in paradise?” claggor walked over, grabbing a beer from the fridge 
“No everythings perfect!” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “Pretty boy seemed pretty upset when he left with that viktor guy” claggor walked over “he's fine” look off to the side “were on a break.” you look down at the counter avoiding all of their gazes, vi exchanges looks with claggor. Sevika couldn't help but feel just a little joy. I mean yeah she felt bad and all but it meant you were up for grabs. “Where's your sweater” you ask looking at sevika, switching the subject “i hate sweaters” sevika was caught off guard at the sudden question 
“Seriously? How boring.” you roll your eyes looking off to the side. “Why are you calling me out when you're not even wearing an ugly sweater?” sevika smirked, looking down at you “i can't help if everything looks good on me” you giggle. Sevikas cheeks turned red as you walked away, she was definitely checking your ass out “dude.” vi pulled sevika out of her daze “uh- what?” She looked around  “That's my little sister.” Vi scoffed, crossing her arms “yeah right sorry.” Sevika looked off to the side. 
You walk over to jinx and ekko “hey pretty lady” jinx smiles as you sit down next to her on the couch “i need to get drunk” you say drinking the bottle of whiskey “you need to? Or want to?” Ekko asked, you shoot him a glare “jinx control your man” you look at jinx as she laughed. “Fine, get drunk, see if I care, ” Ekko jokes. You take another sip of the bottle, setting it on the side table “so, do you need a place to stay tonight?” Jinx asked “I don't know” you rub your forehead “well if you don't want to go back to the apartment, our place is always an option.” ekko said, resting his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you guys.” you smile softly. “Okay enough with the sappy stuff” jinx sighed “Let's do the resolution game!”
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Everyone gathered in the living room sitting in a circle, everyone was given a piece of paper to write down their resolution. Sevika thought for a moment, maybe learn to cook? She just wrote something stupid down. Not really paying attention. You on the other hand wrote down “get more bitches” you snicker as you put it in the bowl. When everyone was done they started passing the bowl around. Caitlyn mixed the bowl up before pulling a paper out, reading it “this just says scissor city..” caitlyn sighed “violet” she turned to her fiance “what- im not all about sex you know” vi said earning an eyebrow raise from caitlyn “but i did write that, yes.” vi muttered. Everyone started talking 
You sigh walking away from the circle. You find yourself in the library of the house, of course caitlyn would have a library in her own house. You sigh, closing your eyes, lifting your head. “Are you okay?” you turn to the voice seeing sevika standing there “yeah, i just got lost. I've never been in such a big house.” you laugh. “Me neither, i don't think anybody needs this much space.” she walks forward “where were you trying to go?” she asked, sitting on the couch. You sit next to her 
“The void” you whisper in response “really? Mind if I come with you?” sevika requested. “Maybe, can you drive?” you tilt your head “wait, you don't have your license? How old are you?” Sevika chuckled. You blush in embarrassment “i- um…i just never got around to it” you lie. The truth is, you failed, like, 3 times “oh really?” sevika asked in a certain tone that ran shivers up your back. Fuck that was so hot. “Yes really!” you groaned and rolled your eyes. 
Jinx narrowed her eyes, looking around for you. Vi also noticed sevika was missing “where did sevika and my sister go?” vi asked everyone shrugged, not even noticing. Jinx went upstairs looking for you, and sevika I guess but mainly you. She sighed opening every door
Sevikas mouth clashed with yours. Her hand resting on your lower back. And her mech hand against your cheek. Her tongue fought yours for dominance as your hands rested in sevikas hair. She moans into the kiss. You giggle, pulling away to catch your breath. You lean your head back, holding onto her so you don't fall onto your back. “You're such a dirty dove,” Sevika whispered in your ear. She kissed your jaw and your neck before returning to your lips, she bit your bottom lip. You moan, she chuckled 
“I've barely touched you and yet your coming undone already. I guess the golden boy didnt do a very good job” sevika said seductively, you nod as she laughs. Taking the wonderful view she has of you in “your the most gorgeous girl ive ever seen” she smiled 
There was a crack in the door, jinx picked on seeing you and sevika making out. Her lips pulling into a tight line, she hesitated busting in on the both of you but she stops herself “she needs this.” jinx tells herself. 
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