#like he legally has to wear this shirt at some point but he would wear a suit coat over it but

[sqlmn]

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Brent doesn't understand the concept of being bought a joke, like, why would someone SPEND MONEY on a joke? Since Karen's his friend and bought him a shirt, he's like. Legally obligated to wear it at least once... ? Probably?

So while he suffers over the idea of wearing it and not wanting to wear it at work he eventually would wear it and Karen would suffer the fact she needs to actually not try to joke too much in a teasing way if it's gonna be Treated Seriously. Right suffering from being gay because oh, Brent looks nice in color. (Chris would find out about it at work that he missed Brent in color and just stares at Karen because she is an absolute menace how did she manage that.)

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Sass & Suspenders

Legal AU: Prosecutor!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

You and Bucky are both professionals in a long term relationship, but you like to mix things up once in a while despite the humdrum of life.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, minors please leave

Word Count: 2,953

A/N: Because I have a thing for men in suspenders and I've thought about this for far too long.

Bucky groaned. But not one iota of the deep articulation of the sound that escaped his lips was rooted in any form of pleasure. You shared the sentiment. Taxes - who ever enjoyed doing those?

"Do we have to?" he whined.

"You promised!" you admonished, knowing full well that if he persisted in his protests, you would succumb to his point of view. 

The pout you received in response was almost as good as his closing arguments. It was 9pm and you had both left your busy jobs to spend an evening together completing your tax returns. Your relationship had most certainly reached the pinnacle of excitement. 

Heaving a sigh of resignation, you nudged your boyfriend towards the study you shared. The two of you had been putting off the chore for several weeks and you had finally laid down the law to your handsome attorney.

"I'm tired."

"So am I, but it has to be done. Come on."

Despite the fact that your crazy careers that kept you busy until ridiculous hours, the two of you found a way to do something together, even if it was only sleeping. Early in your relationship, there had been a number of rescheduled or incomplete dates, but the offending party would make it up to the other with their favorite cupcake the following day. In all honesty you were surprised that you hadn't gained a tonne of weight because of the quantity of cake you had consumed.

It wasn't long before you knew that Bucky was the one for you and you apprehensively admitted your feelings to him. To your immense relief, he reciprocated those feelings and in no time at all you'd moved in together and were filling out tax returns like an old married couple. It was incredible how well you synced with each other, in spite of your differences. A difference that was evident on this auspicious evening.

When carrying out a task that needed concentration and an arduous undertaking, you liked to be comfortable, meaning you immediately changed into one of your chemise nightgowns. Bucky on the other hand felt the only way to concentrate was to roll up his shirt sleeves and dig in in full professional garb. He often said that staying in ‘character’ helped him focus.

Neither of you objected particularly to the other's choices, particularly when Bucky was wearing suspenders with his suits. You would never dare admit it, but you had developed an overwhelming fondness for seeing your sweetheart in suspenders. One might even describe it as a kink.

Before meeting Bucky, you had never met anyone under the age of 70 wearing suspenders. You considered it to be a quirk of many of your elderly patients. But for some reason, Bucky made it look like the height of fashion. Many a time you found yourself wondering what it would be like to grab a hold of the elasticated straps and pull him into your arms. Today happened to be one of those many distracting occasions that left you dazed and very much aroused. It was several moments before you acknowledged the fact that Bucky was leaning across the table in an attempt to meet your gaze.

"Hey there, doll," he gave you that lopsided grin that drove you nuts. "What happened to 'we must focus' and 'get this done tonight'?"

The flush on your face deepened. 

"What's going on in that brain of yours? You're kinda quiet."

You bit your lip, treating him to a coy smile. "I just have other things on my mind."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Just admiring how handsome my boyfriend looks."

"You looked like you were looking straight through me, not at me."

"Bucky, let's get back to this paperwork."

"No."

"No?"

"I want you to tell me what you were thinking about." His tone was low and commanding. Almost as though he already knew the dirty thoughts that had crossed your mind. 

You felt your pulse quicken. "May I plead the fifth, counselor?"

"No, doll. You're under my jurisdiction now. You're under oath to speak the truth."

"The whole truth?"

"Nothing but the truth."

"So help me God?"

"I'll be the only one here that can help you. Now tell me what you were thinking."

"How about I show you?" Rising from your chair, you sauntered over to Bucky's side of the large oak desk.

Sliding into his lap, you ran your fingers along the elastic straps of his suspenders, tracing the small grooves and indentations of the springy material.

"See something you like, doll?"

The groan that escaped your lips was nothing short of sinful. You wrapped one strap in each of your empty fists and tugged at them forcefully, pulling Bucky towards you until his mouth was barely an inch from yours. All words were forgotten on your part.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice so low you could barely make out his words through the carnal desire in his voice.

His lips were so close, you could practically taste a whiff of that last cup of coffee he had swallowed before leaving work. You watched the steely blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils expanded with arousal. Bucky's hands settled on either side of your face, his skin was on fire, or maybe it was yours, it was impossible to tell.

His lips brushed against yours lightly, so soft and it sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you said nothing, he pressed his lips on yours a little harder, leaving a slightly sloppy kiss on your mouth. “How about now?” he asked. He traced a solitary finger along the line of your cheekbone. “Or now-”

The rest of his words were lost against your mouth. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness you wanted, not now, not when it had been so long, and you knotted your fists tighter around his suspenders, pulling him harder against you. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and his arms circled you, gathering you against him.

All you wanted was Bucky, you wanted to feel him, all of him, pressing into you. You inhaled, breathing in his shaving cream, his cologne, that extra scent that was just...Bucky. The aroma was intoxicating and you were dizzy with desire to take him in. Parting your lips, you invited him. His tongue deftly entered your mouth, forcefully searching every possible crevice, teasing, tantalizing, tasting your unique flavor.

His hands slipped under the hem of your chemise, gently gliding his long digits across your sensitive abdomen, before moving them to your bountiful breasts, enjoying the way you whimpered and writhed every time he flicked one of your perky nipples. The electrifying sensations traveled through your body culminating in your arousal pooling in the meager piece of material covering your leaking lips. Before you had time to object, Bucky’s hands were splayed across the inside of your thigh, fingers creeping ever closer to your clothed clit.

"Mmm, objection," you hummed into his mouth.

Bucky unlocked his lips from yours, surprise and disappointment evident on his face. "Ok, I know, we have to get this done," he took his hand off your thigh and waved at the paperwork on the desk.

"Eager much?" your smirk insinuating at your meaning. You laughed and snapped one of his suspenders lightly. With the other hand, you swept your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "I have a counter argument."

"Oh?"

"Let me show you." Seductively, you slipped off his lap and knelt down between his legs. Looking up at his face, you watched the look of comprehension spread across his handsome features.

"Are you sure?" he asked, somewhat apprehensively. 

"Certain." The bulge seemed to be growing before your very eyes, straining at the seams of his pricey pants. "I've missed how you taste."

Bucky sucked in a breath in anticipation of your actions, eyes wide as you unzipped his pants and freed his hardening cock. Gently, you trailed your fingers up and down his shaft. "It's your turn to tell me what you want me to do to you."

"You know what I like, doll."

That you did. "I want to run my tongue over every inch of you." Lowering your head, you took him into your mouth, warm and soft, you took a moment to savor his taste. You hummed with appreciation, your tongue flickered and danced around the tip and instantly you felt him swelling and growing hard for you, his cock filling your mouth with every lick. 

You pulled back slightly as the head of his cock started to push against the back of your throat. "Tell me how good it feels. I want to hear you say it."

He groaned. The sound excited you, his body was coming alive for your mouth. You reached up to his chest, slipping your hand under the suspender strap and pushed down on his nipple.

"Oh doll, nobody has ever fucked me like you do," he cried as you worked your tongue over his frenulum. Bucky responded just as you wanted, the taste of pre-cum seeped into your mouth. He arched his back, eyes rolling backwards with pleasure.

Your free hand curled around his now rock hard member, with a loose grip, you gently moved your hand up and down encouraging the flow of more pre-cum from his tip to lubricate your actions and elicit the most ungodly moans from your boyfriend.

Hearing Bucky groaning so obscenely sent a tingle through your clit. After a pause, you tilted your head to take him further into your mouth, bobbing up and down with ease. His fingers mingled with your luscious locks as he guided your head gently as he tried not to trust too deeply into your throat. Bucky knew you often struggled to take him in completely and that he had to take care to not get too carried away in his bliss. 

It wasn't until he started cursing quietly under his breath in a way that made you come undone. You removed your mouth from his cock, "Buck, I can’t wait any longer… please I need you to fuck me."

"Doll, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow." He stood suddenly and pulled you to your feet effortlessly.

"Buck-" you whined. "Please, I need you. Touch me."

"Turn around."

You obeyed. His erection pressed against you was more than you could bear.

"Buck, fuck me like you mean it."

"I always mean it," he growled into your ear. He pushed you forward onto the desk, forcing you onto your elbows. Your chemise rose up as you bent over the thick table, exposing your ass. His cock rested comfortably between your thighs, eagerly twitching, ready for action. Your dripping wet pussy literally begged for it.

Bucky tugged at the strip of material that was the only thing keeping him from entering you. "Is this ok?"

"Oh God, yes," you exclaimed. At any other time, you may have been ashamed of your wanton cries, but right now you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel Bucky pushing into you, filling you up, making you pulse with pleasure around him in that way that no one else could compare.

"Not God, just me," he smirked.

At what felt like an excruciating slow pace, Bucky stroked your slit with his tip, collecting the succulent elixir that you had made, just for him. As he touched your clit, you shuddered deeply and gasped. You closed your eyes and focused on the ecstatic sensations that shot through your body as your opening stretched in receipt of his cock.

It was a good thing you were half sprawled across the sturdy table because your legs felt like jelly and would give way at any moment. As if Bucky could hear your thoughts, he curled his fingers around your hips, the tips pressed into your flesh salaciously.

"Oh Buck! I want you all the way inside me, give me all of you."

"Is that what you like, doll?"

"Yes, you know that’s what I like."

"I hope you're ready for this, because I know I am," Bucky purred.

He certainly was. He didn't hesitate in plunging himself further into you like sheathing a sword to its hilt. The force made you gasp with pain and surprise and the grimace on your face didn't go unnoticed. Bucky bent forwards, his abdomen pressed against your back and asked, "too much?"

"Tad too fast," you answered. "I may have been a little too hasty about what I asked for."

His new position had relieved some of the pressure and you felt a lot more comfortable and ready for him to try again. Bucky's breath was hot on your back and the wave of pain was now ebbing away, replaced by your impatient longing.

"Let's try something different, shall we?"

His fingers crept around you until he found your clit. Bucky encouraged you to spread your legs by nudging your knees apart. Slowly, his digits struck up a steady pace rhythm of slow movements, starting below and dragging up again and again, until your the bundle of nerves was flushed and firm under his fingers and your juices started leaking out around him. Not until your hips start undulating did Bucky try pushing back inside you. You had to admire his self control as he made you unravel with the smallest flick of his finger.

"Buck-"

"Doll?"

"If you keep fingering me like that, this is going to be over before you get the chance to have any fun."

"Watching you cum is extremely fun for me."

"You feel so delicious inside me, but I need you to fuck me with your cock."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige. Proceeding with caution, he pushed slowly until he was fully inside you. A burning sensation radiated through you as you stretched to let him in.

"How does that feel?" he asked slightly apprehensively.

"Exquisite!" you sighed. 

You shifted to make yourself comfortable before Bucky pulled out slowly, leaving you feeling empty inside. But you didn't have to wait long before he was thrusting back half inside you, making you gasp and moan. It was almost too much for Bucky, he was already struggling to control himself but he held back, wanting to give you as much pleasure as possible for as long as possible. In and out, he moved further with each thrust until he was sliding all the way into you, hands roaming over your exposed back.

“Bucky. Buck...” you murmured.

“Doll, a little louder for those of us in the back.”

“Does it turn you on?” you smiled.

“You’ll be screaming my name by the end of the night.” He rutted against you sharply in an unexpected rhythm. 

“Haha, you’re going to have to do better than tha-ahh,” you struggled to complete your answer as he slipped one hand between your 

thighs.

"Come on," he coaxed you by edging his fingers up your leg.

"Make me cum, counselor."

"On one condition."

"Name. It."

"You know what I want doll. Let me give you a taste of what you want." Devilishly, your boyfriend slipped his hand between your folds and gave your throbbing clit a few small flicks.

"Buck-uhhhh."

"That's right doll, just a little more," he grunted, starting to come undone himself. "Oh fuck, just a little more."

"Just a little more, Bucky!"

You pushed down against the hand he had clamped over your clit as he pounded against you mercilessly, all speech forgotten. Both of you panted and pumped away each chasing your release. There is was, that all too familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach. It spread through you like lightening, permeating every fiber of your being. "Bucky, oh Bucky, I'm-" you cried out.

Your walls fluttered around him pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. His thrusts became more and more erratic as you tightened around him.  Your whole body shook with pleasure. "Bucky!"

The sound of you screaming his name in euphoria was what made him pulse inside you. Arching his back, Bucky spilled his hot milky load while chanting your name under his breath. 

Neither of you moved for the longest time, you sprawled across the table with Bucky bent over your limp form.

"Buck," you finally worked up the energy to speak. 

"Mmmm?"

"I wish you could be inside me forever."

"Wouldn't that be nice," he smirked at the very thought.

For a few more moments, neither of you moved. 

"Buck?"

"Mmmm?"

"I think my arm fell asleep."

You could feel the rumble of his laughter flow into you. He slowly extricated himself from you, now you were only connected by the thin trail of his creamy elixir.

Bucky gripped your waist as you clumsily lowered yourself off the desk. "Looks like we made a mess of this." He waved his hand at the scattered receipts that were now strewn all over the table top.

"Next time don't wear suspenders if you want to avoid interruptions," you admonished him playfully while pulling your chemise back down to a comfortable position.

"Seriously, that's what turns you on?" Bucky wiped himself off and tucked himself back into his pants.

"They make you look distinguished!" You sighed and wrapped your hands around the offending article of clothing.

"So how would you feel if I put on some plaid pajamas?" Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you should hold me responsible for what happens to you." Smiling, you pulled at the straps and led your bemused boyfriend to bed.

[s0uth3park]

Some of my random SP headcanons:

This is a long one.

Pt 2

Cartman just will never learn how to drive. Ever. He knows he has other people to ferry him around.

In a similar vein, when that time rolls around (teenhood), Kenny legally can’t drive but he can drive. He just doesn’t have a licence. This persists until much later in life when he can financially support himself.

Stan begged/bribed Cartman to not harass Red for being a daywalker to keep the peace in his and Wendy’s relationship.

Whenever Wendy and Cartman need to sit down to talk out some sort of dispute, they do it over a pack of Oreo’s. They call this Oreo Time.

Kenny and Cartman play GTA together a lot.

Heidi is part Jewish on her mother’s side.

Cartman’s natural eye colour is brown. He has blue eyes, now.

Cartman is short by the time he’s fully grown (probably because of his weight), and has naturally brown hair and blue eyes. Kenny is the opposite, with blond hair and blue eyes, and is naturally Cartman’s favourite.

Cartman’s coat is plain red flannel (it’s the closest thing to fuzzy felt we can get), Stan’s is canvas, Kyle’s is tarpoon cloth, and Kenny’s is synthetic material (it’s like that smooth thin material that makes a high pitched whirry noise when you scratch it?? Cannot find the specific name for the life of me).

Tweek and Butters are cousins. Either through both of their mothers or through Butters’ dad and Tweek’s mom. Let me know which one you prefer.

Craig and Cartman’s hats are from the same store / brand.

Cartman and Kyle wear opposite colours on opposite pieces of clothing (is this a headcanon or observation? Who knows, I just want to point it out). Kyle has a green hat, contrasting Cartman’s red coat. Cartman has a (primarily) blue hat, contrasting Kyle’s orange coat. Kyle’s original gold-yellow t-shirt also compliments Cartman’s blue t-shirt, and pairs with Cartman’s yellow puff, brim, and gloves.

Cartman sometimes hums the Dreidal song to himself. Rarely will he sing it.

Carol and Stuart put Kenny in a separate room to Kevin because they didn’t anticipate a third kid. When Karen came along, they didn’t bother to displace one of them, so just stuck her in with one of them (Kevin) at random.

Kenny carries the gene for red hair.

Either (or both) Laura and Thomas have brown eyes. This is why Craig has black hair. (Relying on a quick google search for this one).

If Stan looks a lot like Randy as he gets older, right down to the eyes, Shelley looks like Sharon, but with Randy’s eyes.

Stan sometimes feels like the outsider in the group because not only do the other three hold biological keepsakes of the others (Kenny’s eyes –> Cartman; Cartman’s kidney –> Kyle), Kyle and Kenny (K’s) both wear the same shade of orange, and all three are called by unvoiced guttural (“kuh”) vocatives. He’s just Stan. He and Kenny have the same last initial, though.

Out of all the moms, Mrs. Tweek has the biggest tits. I’m sorry I don’t make these rules.

She and Richard fuck like rabbits too I think

While there’s a massive gap between how Stan is viewed and how Cartman is viewed, but out of Stan’s Gang, Stan is held in the lowest esteem just after Cartman. Wendy and his looks boost his popularity a bit, but it’s still rather low.

Kenny is held in the highest esteem by the way, because people know he just joins the guys and doesn’t really instigate.

Craig has alexithymia.

Clyde picked up some mannerisms, like speaking with little affect, from Craig.

Clyde was a mommy’s boy, but Betsy was always rather eccentric and pedantic.

I’m not sold on this but I have thought about Betsy having PCOS.

Maybe I’m biased but I like to think that if Clyde outright said the words “I don’t like Janice and I don’t want her in this house” / “I’m not ready for a stepmom”, I think Roger would adhere. Probably just me being biased.

Sharon hates being filmed, and if she sees either a video or photo of her she will immediately pat her hair and say “oh look at my hair there” or touch her face and go “oh my, I look godawful in that”.

Cartman flexes his ability to eat bacon on Kyle a lot.

Craig has a fear of dressing Stripe up in costumes. Tweek has suggested it, but Craig shot it down immediately.

Wonder Tweek’s costume is from Craig’s closet, and the reason his is shit is because he was too busy helping Tweek’s with his because Tweek found organising his own costume too stressful.

Randy taught Kenny how to swim in Kyle’s backyard blow up paddling pool.

Cartman is a weak ass swimmer.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Pretty Goddamn Metal

Day #11 - Prompt: Jeff | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Piercings/Needles, Language | POV: Jeff | Pairing: None | Tags: Jeff & Goodie: Best Friends, Goodie's At Home Piercing Palace, No, No, No, Yes?, Don't Try This At Home Kids, Eddie Munson is a Bit of Freak, In Case Anyone's Forgotten

"Are you sure?" Goodie asks, and Jeff nods. He's sure. 

Well, ninety percent sure. 

Eight-five, maybe. 

He is sure about the piercing, but way less sure about Goodie being the one to do it. Maybe they should get Eddie to at least supervise.

But it's too late for that now. Goodie has the needle, a huge thing that looks like it's probably gonna hurt. 

"That's a big needle." 

"It's a cannula." 

Jeff doesn't know what the difference is. It still looks vicious. 

"Don't worry. I did my ear. And I was an apprentice under my uncle last summer," Goodie says, and Jeff's still gonna worry. 

Especially since he's pretty sure the only experience Goodie has is a two week vacation staying with his uncle in L.A., where he might have watched him work in his tattoo and piercing parlor, but where he definitely hadn't been allowed to help.

And a nipple isn't an ear. It's a hole being pressed through his skin, his very sensitive skin, by his best friend. Who is most definitely not a professional. Or an apprentice. 

Or, even an adult. 

His mom is gonna kill him. 

That's just a given. 

He won't be able to hide it for very long. Especially if Goodie gives him some sort of deadly infection and his nipple falls off. 

As if he can read his mind, Goodie wipes him, the needle, and the jewelry down with rubbing alcohol. 

He's even found sterile gloves. 

Which is all better than nothing, Jeff supposes, if they're gonna do this in the bathroom with no experience or good sense. 

Goodie moves to the ground, slotting between Jeff's knees, and even in the cramped bathroom, he's deceptively spry. Jeff's seen him move through tight spaces where it didn't look like even Gareth would fit. 

Jeff takes a deep breath. 

Goodie very assuredly grabs Jeff's nipple, and then says, "Okay. One. Two," and Goodie shoves it through, not giving him until three. 

It hurts less than he'd anticipated, and it's almost a disappointment that it wasn't somehow more. But, Goodie's already pulling out the cannula, and screwing on the other end of the jewelry. 

Fast, efficient, and with a confidence that Jeff finds alarming. Goodie's definitely a freak.

At least it's over and done with.

And now there's a bar through his nipple that looks like a screw. 

It's pretty goddamn metal. 

"Ready for the other one? Or are you a little bitch?" Goodie asks, already unwrapping the second bar. 

Okay. Apparently he's getting both done. 

And the second one? That motherfucker hurt. Goddamn adrenaline wearing off. 

They don't get infected. Somehow. It's a heavy metal miracle. They are fucking tender for a good week, but then, that's that. 

He's just a guy with pierced nipples now, and only Goodie knows. 

His mom doesn't find out, and neither does Eddie or Gareth. 

Well, not until he doesn't think about it during band practice and pulls his t-shirt up to wipe his face. It's hot as balls in the garage. They really need to upgrade and get the fuck out of this hot box. 

"Jeff's nipples are pierced!" Gareth yells, pointing a drumstick right at his chest. "Guys, Eddie, look! Did we know this?!" 

"I did," Goodie says, unphased by Gareth's over-excited outburst.

And then Eddie has his shirttail in his hand, yanking it back upwards, so he can look closer. 

They're healed, so when Eddie flicks one, it doesn't hurt. But it does feel kinda good, and that isn't something that he wants to associate with Eddie. 

"Stop it," Jeff says, batting Eddie's hand away. 

"Where'd you go to have this done?" Eddie asks, and Jeff gets it. Just like tattoos, piercings aren't exactly legal in Indiana. 

If you don't get them done at the kitchen table, you probably aren't getting them done, period. 

"I have a guy," Jeff says, cryptically. 

"You think he'd do mine?" Gareth asks, looking hopeful. 

"Absolutely not," Goodie answers. 

"Nobody asked you, Goods," Gareth snaps. "I want both done, too," Gareth says. Lifting his layers of shirts, looking at his own nipples. "Maybe barbells. So we don't match."

"Why would you need pierced nipples? Nobody will ever see them," Goodie asks, taunting Gareth. 

"You don't know what my sex life looks like!" Gareth yells, bristling, dropping his shirts and balling up his fists. 

"Uh, yeah, I do. You're still a virgin."

"So are you!" Gareth shouts back. 

This is gonna devolve into name calling and hair pulling sooner rather than later, if Jeff doesn't cool them both down. 

"Easy, both of you," Jeff says. "None of us are drowning in pussy." 

Eddie clears his throat. 

"Or cock," Jeff amends. 

"That's more like it," Eddie says, still eyeing the screw through his left nipple. 

Jeff looks at him, not sure what's going through Eddie's mind, "What?" 

"Can I bite it?" Eddie asks, pantomiming tugging on it with his teeth. 

"No!" Jeff says, "You can't bite my nipple. But thanks for asking first." 

Eddie usually bites without warning, so this is definitely some personal growth. Jeff's proud of him. 

Still not gonna let him, or his teeth, anywhere near it. But at least he asked, and didn't just go for it. That definitely wouldn't have been out of the realm of possibility.

"I'd let you bite mine," Gareth says, petulant, like this is an unreasonable stance for Jeff to take. 

Eddie whips around, hair flying, "Thanks, Gare."

"If Jeff would just tell us who did it. We could all get them done." 

"Mama Jones would have your ass," Goodie says, and Jeff isn't even sure that's true. Gareth is a mama's boy and can do no wrong. His mom might let him do it.

But still. 

They can't all get them done, and become the pierced nipple band. 

"You get something else."

"What're the odds your guy would pierce my dick?" Eddie asks.

"I'd say slim to none, just like the size of your dick," Goodie sasses, and Eddie launches at him, laughing.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: A quick google search led me to believe that body piercings (outside of ears) was also illegal in Indiana until the late 90s. So that's what I went with here. If that's not true, well, just go with it, lol.

[zorosbeau33]

Courting Gifts~ One Piece Omegaverse Headcanon Part 2!

Starring: Zoro and Law! x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff, sfw AU: Omegaverse, Omega Reader Wc: 1480 TW: Mentions of battle All Characters here are legal age or older in my au~ Masterlist~ Part 1~

He gives laid-back alpha vibes. He kinda has to be in order to keep up with Luffy and stand up beside him as right hand.

He was super subtle, SUPER Subtle! He didn’t want anything to change, but at the same time he wanted you to know he’s there and he cares.

It's small things because he’s fine loving you without the return. Just stay healthy and safe for him thats all he wants…and to see your smile sometimes aimed his way

It started at first with small things, handing you a cold drink when it's a scorching day outside. 

Gently tying your hair up for you with a hair tye thats the color of his haramaki/or slipping a beanie over your head in that color if your hair is short to take care of you in cold weather

Offering you to try his precious Sake, yes you alone have that privilege 

You want sword fighting lessons? He offers them quietly one night while the others are busy. He is barely suppressing the purrs as he gets to hold you, adjust your grip and teach you the motions by holding you within his very muscled arms.

Quality time is huge for him, that's his way of spoiling you

He gets you a cute dangly earring in his shades of green, maybe a tassel, maybe a teardrop on a thin chain, maybe a carved jade flower whatever it is. He spent weeks searching for it as he wanted to ensure it’d be something you’d like

There are the other things though. A pair of his gloves on a winter island end up in your possession. 

You have so many of his shirts when did this start? You don’t know but he always has a tiny smirky smile when he sees you wear one.

If he happens upon a snack he think you’d like he buys it while lost. Gives it to you like its nothing but his ears are red. “Here for you.” And then tries to walk away. He doesn’t want or need you to say thank you, he actually gets a bit (very) flustered and tries to leave quickly if you do try to thank him and gets defensive and pouty if you try to tease him about it 

The bookmark you had looked at in the store when you were getting him unlost? Suddenly appears in your book on a bench in the Thousand Sunny with his scent lingering all around

Zoro isn’t into extravagant things, especially not presents. He just doesn’t see the point (unless you want a sword that he is gungho for). He does buy you any nesting things if you say you need them.

Personally however he would prefer to be your nest. He loves taking naps so to have you biscuit his chest and the blanket he’d scented for you, while you both take a well deserved rest? He is all for this, both before and after you get together. Warning though you will always have at least one of his arms wrapped around you. Even in his sleep he’s watchful when it comes to you, ready to draw a sword and protect you

He has a small book that he has sketched some drawings of your face with painstaking detail. 

Once he’s over you knowing about his top secret hobby, he would be honored and flustered to design you a tattoo if you wanted. It's in his traditional style very Japanese traditional painting style but he’d work so hard on it for you.

Is a sucker for anything with your scent. He doesn’t mind wether you smell of him too much. But he is always secretly longing to have your touch, your taste, your scent burned into his soul. It makes him miss you less, and it keeps him calm.

Would be the crew member to bring home a little kitten for you if you were ever down (he had to beg Nami for permission, and promised to clean up after it). Just one, only ever the one kitten. But he makes sure its taken care of best he can to his knowledge including getting Chopper to check its health over before he gifts the sweet and goofy thing to you.

The kitten like him has a scar and recalling how gentle you were with him he decides out of all the lucious cats, this scrappy little kitten would be the perfect first child for you both to raise.

Not super attached to it at first. Honestly he often gets frustrated while ship breaking the kitten but over time and with your help to learn how to understand its actions. He is almost as protective over that fluff ball as he is you.

Heres a secret follow the cat and you’ll find Zoro, any island any time follow the cat. It knows how to find him everytime

Zoro courting gifts may not be numerous but each of them had meaning and its clear to anyone just how much thought he puts into each one

THIS MAN RIGHT HERE-He’s an alpha, a broody secretly unsure alpha

Absolutely finds the concept of courting gifts to be blown out of proportion. Why are they spending thousands (or in Do Flamingos case Billions) of Berry’s on gifts that have little practical use.

He’s to methodical and detached sometimes for his own good. So his first few gifts to you may have actually been from Bepo/Schachi/Penguin…And boy was he mad.

After they explained they couldnt stand watching him pine without acting on it, and that he was disrespecting you as an alpha and as a Super Nova by not taking care of your courting needs at least. Law relents 

His gifts are never tacky, or wasteful though he is drawing a firm line from the start, the submarine is not a hoarding zone and he’s going to keep it that way and take care of you at the same time.

The first few gifts that are actually from him he hands to you himself “You need these for your nest ya?” 

Law put hours, upon hours of research into the best pillows to use for an omega nest. He wanted to ensure they’d support you properly and not cause any muscle or bone strain. Silly but endearing 

The blankets are thick fluffy and super soft, yes they have the Jolly Roger on it, or are the same pattern as his hat, but it is because he internally wants to lay a little bit of his claim on you even in a place he feels he can’t go (until you invite him, he respects your nest as sacred and has protected it from others even before this. No Penguin pranks allowed to your nest)

He is not hug on giving you his clothes, mainly because he feels he is working hard to supply you with nice clothes to wear and he can scent those (and you in the process) so why do you need his things?

This does not apply and goes right out the window when he’s feeling possessive.

He’s jealous by nature and hugely distrustful. Someone’s flirting with you? Suddenly his jacket is wrapped around your shoulder and he is GLARING. Or during soft cuddle times with him and Bepo he puts his jacket/blanket/hat on you and holds you close to his heart. Yes he likes to pretend you moved into him, but he does pull you in 

Other “practical gifts” are any book he thinks you’d enjoy. Literature (even to his own chagrin fantasy) is never a waste…not of Berries and not of space on the ship. 

He makes space on his bookshelf for you to have your own row, even if you are not a big reader it's just one of the ways he makes space for you in his life to show you he’s ready for you to be in it even more

If he wants to be a brat (of course it's to piss off Cap’n Kidd) he would then buy you flashy presents. Not too many just enough to tell the other Supernova to fuck off and that he knows you better because while they are baubles they still have practical use! And they are things you instantly love! He’s so smug about your happiness and just the biggest broody tsundere alpha mate. 

If you ever did want something not practical but didn’t ask him because you know his rule, he might relent on his decision if he is there at the time you see it. The look of longing on your face and how you are respecting his wishes and self-set guidelines…he might just buy it to surprise you. 

Leaving it on the pillow beside you when he gets up in the morning to go to work. He can't help it, he loves you 

[galaxymagitech]

What Makes Robin Magic?

For @jasontoddweek2025 Day 7:

Return | Outsider POV | Crime Alley

Summary: Jason shows Damian around Crime Alley and explains his own interpretation of Robin's magic.

Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne

Warnings: Shockingly, none this time!

You can read it here or on AO3!

When Damian steps outside of prison—sorry, school—he expects to see Alfred’s sleek black car waiting for him. Instead, he sees the standard line of flashy cars and, near the front, a beat-up red Honda Odessey that looks like it has seen far better days. For a moment, Damian thinks he can get away with ignoring the abomination and call an Uber home, but then Todd waves at him from the window.

Grudgingly, Damian marches over to Todd’s dubiously-safe car and slides into the passenger seat. He notices that, instead of Red Hood garb, Todd seems to be wearing a simple leather jacket, a Green Lantern T-shirt, and jeans. “You,” Todd says, “are eleven. You need to be thirteen to sit in the front.” Damian glares at him and does not move. Todd raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, it’s just the law.”

Todd does not care about Damian’s safety. No, he simply wants to humiliate Damian, for the sole crime of having obtained fewer years of age. “Tt. Need I remind you that murder is also against the law?”

“Went cold-turkey—try again.” As usual, Todd is making no sense.

“Why is this turkey cold?” Damian asks, tilting his head.

“Cold—it means I quit immediately,” Todd explains. “Eleven means backseat.”

“I am not a child,” Damian insists. “I am a highly-trained agent of justice.” Todd will not convince him to concede on this point. He is no doubt gathering blackmail—perhaps even giving it to Drake.

“Legally,” Todd says, “you’re eleven.”

Damian sniffs. “Legally, Todd, you are a corpse.” Satisfied that he has won the argument, Damian leans back in his seat. “And corpses cannot drive.”

Todd chuckles. “Fine then, brat. But the seatbelt’s going on at least.”

Damian buckles his seatbelt with the distinct feeling that he fell for some sort of trick. “Where are we going?” Damian asks as Todd pulls out of the line of cars.

“You’ll see.”

“Are you holding me for ransom, as you did Drake?”

Todd chuckles. “No. But if you wanna consider this a kidnapping, feel free.”

“If this is a kidnapping,” Damian says, “I will activate my emergency beacon.”

“Kidnapping is a…loose term. You’re being detained for a fun afternoon outing.”

“Is this how you got Drake too?” Damian asks.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Todd says, leaning slightly towards Damian. “Tim didn’t even realize he was kidnapped.”

“How?” Damian is aware that Drake is often lacking in common sense and survival skills, but Red Robin is still a detective. Failing to realize you’ve been kidnapped while your enemy ransoms you back to your…guardian, because Father is not Drake’s father…seems to require uncharacteristic idiocy.

“Well, he just showed up at my safehouse because he thought I might be plotting something, and then fell asleep in the middle of said investigation. I managed to ransom Tim back to Bruce before he even woke up. Kid was shocked when B showed up, all worried. It was hilarious.”

“…I suppose,” Damian agrees. He will need to speak to his ally about this, as he has also noticed Drake’s tendency to fall asleep in bizarre locations. It could be dangerous, in the field. Although, he supposes it would be Father or Richard’s role in that case, as he has been repeatedly informed that he does not, in any way, outrank Drake. “Where are we going, then?” Damian asks.

“Home,” Todd says.

Damian arches an eyebrow. “This is not the way to Wayne Manor.”

Todd raises a hand towards Damian’s head. Damian stares Todd down, daring him to finish whatever patronizing gesture he was intending. Todd retracts his hand. Wise move. “Not your home, Demon Brat. Mine.”

“Crime Alley,” Damian surmises.

“Yeah,” Todd says. “Now shut up. My driving skills are for high speed car chases, not local traffic laws.”

It is foolish of Todd to admit such a weakness, but as Damian desires to keep his life and limbs intact, he remains silent until Todd pulls the car to a stop in a dirty alleyway. “You wanted to show me…cigarette butts?”

Todd rolls his eyes. “C’mon, demon.” Warily, Damian follows Todd out of the car. This is looking like more and more of a trap. He thought Todd was on decent terms with Father at the moment—primarily due to what Todd had called a ‘cold turkey’—but perhaps Todd needs leverage. Or, worse, he has regained his vendetta and is going after the current Robin. Perhaps Damian should have returned the mantle to Drake, if it is a target for Todd’s wrath… “Calm down,” Todd says, ruffling Damian’s hair and then dodging out of the way of his punch with a laugh.

“Why are we here?” Damian asks, composing himself.

“Well, I wanted to show you something.” Damian follows Todd as the man leads him through the Alleyway and down a street. They turn into a second alleyway, and Damian immediately sees what Todd wanted to show him.

The first thing that Damian notices is the color. The alleyway’s concrete walls are covered in a rainbow of bold, striking colors. Mostly reds, yellows, and greens, but there are accents in multiple shades of orange, pink, blue, purple, and white. The paint consumes the walls, eating away at the darkness and transporting Damian and Todd to a dimension of color.

The second thing Damian notices is the recurring image of boy in a leotard, tunic, and cape, leaping into action with a grin on his face. Although Robin’s likeness features red, yellow, and green, the unrealistic colors complement these and bring the mural to life.

Damian allows his gaze to drift around the alleyway. Behind the Robins, Damian sees various settings and objects: bubble-letter names, renditions of storefronts…even a spray-painted basketball. Each one, painted in its own unique style, seems to hold a story of its own.

“Isn’t this vain?” Damian asks, once he regains his voice. The murals are beautiful, but it’s just like Todd to make this about himself. “These are you, aren’t they?”

Todd shakes his head. “Nah. They’re Robin.” Damian steps forwards, reaching out to touch the painted wall. He traces the lines of Robin’s cape, taking in every color that appears within the yellow.

“Robin,” Damian echoes.

“And right now,” Todd says, “Robin is you.”

Damian doesn’t know how long he stands there, his hand resting against the wall. But eventually, he rips his gaze away from the art and steps back. “I didn’t know this was here.”

“Yeah,” Todd says. “I happened upon it when I was—I was in a bad place. It helped, a bit. To know that someone missed me. Even if they didn’t know who I was.”

“Who painted this?” Damian asks. The background is in a variety of styles, but the Robins all seem to have been painted by the same person.

“Olivia Medina. Do you want to meet her?”

Slowly, Damian nods.

As they walk, Todd explains their destination. It’s apparently a restaurant known as a “Diner.” Specifically, it is called “Livie’s Diner.” The owner has lived in Crime Alley her entire life and is nearing retirement. All of her children have moved out of Gotham, but she’s made up for it with a horde of honorary grandchildren. Apparently, her tendency to acquire children is somehow even worse than Father’s. Todd calls her “Livie,” but apparently, most of her own waiters and waitresses, several of the street children, and one very embarrassed cook call her “Grandma Livie.”

When they enter the diner, a bubbly woman with blue hair—grey at the roots—greets them. She kisses Todd on the cheek, and Damian watches in shock as Todd accepts it with a smile. “Is this the little brother you talked about, Peter?” Mrs. Medina asks.

“Yeah, this is little Billy.” Billy, Damian mouths in horror. What sort of name is Billy? He glares at Todd and swears he can see the man smirk. Nevertheless, he gives Mrs. Medina a nod of acknowledgement. “You know, Billy was admiring your work on Doyers Street.”

“Oh, that old thing?” Mrs. Medina asks.

“It was…” Damian searches for the right words. It was not particularly technical art, in the way that he saw in the art museums Richard took him to. But somehow, it seemed so alive, like Robin was really there. Like—as ridiculous as it is—the paint held magic. “It was visually striking.” That feels inadequate, though. “The energy…it felt very real.”

Mrs. Medina smiles. “Thank you. Are you a Robin fan?”

“Yes,” Damian says. He is Robin, so he supposes he could be considered a ‘Robin fan,’ as demeaning as the term is.

“Well,” Mrs. Medina says, “he saved this diner, you know? Mr. Freeze was right there and had frozen half my customers. He said he was going to turn on the permafrost section and was about to kill us all, when Robin leapt in from that window over there. And he said, ‘Freeze right there!’ and dropkicked him through the door. And one of my customers, she was frozen to the floor, but she had this baby and the baby was just bawling her eyes out, poor dear. So, Robin went over and picked up the baby and bounced her until she stopped crying. And then he defrosted all my patrons.”

Todd grins. “You tell that story to everyone, Livie.”

“Well, it’s a good story,” Mrs. Medina says, waving her hand. “Now, you boys go sit down.”

Todd leads Damian over to a booth. “Was that you?” Damian asks, once they’re seated.

“Nah, it was Dick,” Todd says softly enough to hide their words from prying ears. “I, on the other hand, saved the diner from Croc, but that’s not as fun of a story.”

Damian can imagine. If Freeze is in a decent-enough mood and caught early, much of the damage is reversable. Killer Croc, on the other hand…

“You’re vegetarian, not vegan, right?” Damian nods. “You’ll get an omelet,” Todd decides. “Livie refuses to tell me her secret recipe, but they’re amazing here. Want anything else?”

It is not lunchtime, but Damian decides not to argue. He could always use a snack anyway, with the physical exertion required for the vigilante lifestyle. When the waiter arrives, Jason chats with him for a couple minutes in French before ordering their food. He’s mostly silent, then, until the omelets get to their table. Todd was right—the omelets are strangely good. Not better than Alfred’s cooking, but…different enough, that they’re not strictly comparable.

“Why did you bring me here?” Damian asks, once he has taken a few bites of the omelet. He sees why Todd might prize this place—a strangely cozy restaurant in the middle of his crime-ridden territory, run by a talented woman who painted a beautiful mural to honor Robin. But, why would Jason take Todd to this place—to his ‘home’?

“Robin,” Todd says simply.

Damian doesn’t understand, but he certainly doesn’t want to admit it. So, he remains quiet and allows Todd to ramble about the de facto homeless shelter he set up a block away with money from his criminal activities. Damian is uncertain if he is supposed to be impressed or not—Todd is a criminal flaunting his crimes to a sworn crimefighter. And yet, Todd seems proud as he talks about how he bribed the police to leave the place alone.

When they finish the omelets, Todd walks over to the nearby booth and has a brief conversation with the shifty-looking boy sitting there. The man writes down a few notes in a notebook he pulls out of his jacket, nods somberly, and walks back. Damian doesn’t ask. Todd pays for the meal and they leave, walking back out onto the Gotham streets.

Damian trails behind Todd, but this time he looks out at the streets in a way he hadn’t before. Instead of simply scanning for threats and noting the presence of graffiti and cracked pavement, he starts to register each one—the face spray-painted on the pavement beside a bench some Boy Scout troop installed, the dandelion growing out of the cracks in the road, the circle with an X carved into the wooden façade of a bakery that indicates the possibility of food for the needy.

“You know,” Todd says, “when I left the League, I missed the baklava. We could get some from that bakery.”

Damian wrinkles his nose. The baklava he has eaten in America is very different from the Leagues. He says as much.

“Yeah, ‘cos there are different variations. The guy who owns this bakery moved here from Iran, and that’s where the head League chef in Nanda Parbat came from. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

So, they get baklava and walk back to eat the sweet and sticky dessert while sitting on the hood of Todd’s battered car. “Why do you own a mini-van?” Damian asks. “It’s…unbefitting of you.”

“No one suspects the mini-van,” Todd says with a laugh. “Really, there’s just more room to carry guns and dead bodies. Not that I’m transporting any dead bodies, anymore, but…you know. If I needed to.”

“Why did you bring me here, Todd?” Damian asks. Because this was surprisingly enjoyable, but Todd is simply an ally, not a friend or a brother. He has no reason to take Damian around the streets where he grew up and introduce him to the people he knows. This has to be some sort of trick or manipulation, some dastardly ploy to gain Damian’s trust.

Todd frowns, then pulls his legs up onto the hood of the car to sit cross-legged. “Because Bruce doesn’t get it. This is—this is why I’m Hood, why I was Robin. Bruce will tell you all about how this is a Mission, but he won’t show you why it matters. Robin has to…care. That's what makes him magic.” Magic. What a silly word. And yet Damian can't bring himself to disagree.

“I care about being Robin,” Damian says. Of course he does. The position is an honor. He is able to bring justice to the world and fight by his father’s side.

“You have to care about the people too, Damian,” Todd says.

Damian bristles. “I am the best Robin! Except, perhaps, for Richard.”

“I’m not trying to insult you,” Todd says, raising his hands. “Just—you care about your animals, right? You’re not just faking that or something?”

“Of course I am not ‘faking that’!” Damian slides off the hood of the car and crosses his arms. “How dare you imply such a thing?”

“Sorry, sorry. You care about your animals. And you know about what they like—I bet you get a special cat food for Alfred, yeah?”

“Only the best,” Damian says. “He deserves it.”

“’course. And you’d do anything to protect them.”

Damian nods. Is this an attempt to control Damian through his animals? Because Damian may follow Father’s code, but if Todd harms Alfred or Titus or Batcow, Damian will make him wish he was dead.

Todd steps onto the pavement and places a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Damian surprises himself by not trying to shake the hand off. “And that makes you strong, Damian. In a way you can’t get just from having a Mission.”

“But Father does care,” he says.

“Okay, Damian.”

“I mean it!” Damian protests. He remembers a time on patrol when Father found a child sitting outside alone. He knelt down and talked to her while Damian waited impatiently on a nearby rooftop. Father spent nearly ten valuable minutes just listening to the child tell him about her dolls. And then, he lifted her onto his shoulders and escorted her home. Father cares, even if Todd can’t see it through his haze of anger.

Damian hadn’t understood why Father had wasted so much time that night. But now, Damian stares at the brick walls of the alleyway and imagines the Robin murals, with their bright colors and secret stories and magic. He thinks of the taste of baklava still on his tongue, this remnant of his childhood tucked away in an area that no one ever gives a second glance. And he remembers the story of Robin comforting that crying baby in the diner.

He thinks he might understand, now.

“Thank you,” Damian says quietly, too proud to let his voice go above a whisper.

Todd pats him on the shoulder. “I’ve got people to maim and you’ve got homework to do, so let’s get you back to the manor. But—” He gives Damian a smile. “Let’s do this again sometime, alright?”

 “I would be amenable to that,” Damian agrees, with the barest hint of a smile.

[estrellami-1]

Forgotten Valentine’s

Robin walks into the break room, where Steve’s trying to get through an article in a magazine he picked up because even on break he’s bored. “Steve? Eddie came to drop this off for you.”

Steve perks up. “Eddie’s here?”

Robin snorts. “No, he popped in for literally like eight seconds, threw this at me with instructions to give it to you, and ran out again.”

Steve grins. “Did he run into the door?”

Robin grins back. “And cursed at it on his way out.”

Steve sighs happily as he takes the note.

Stevie,

Wear something nice tomorrow, big boy. I’m picking you up at 11am sharp.

E

Robin judges him with her eyebrows. “You two are the bane of my existence.”

“Uh-huh. And Nancy?”

“An angel and the light of my life and can do no wrong, shut up, Steve.” She sighs happily, the exact sound Steve had made less than a minute earlier.

He decides not to point it out.

———————

He does, actually, wear something nice the next day. Eddie does pick him up at 11am, Springsteen playing on the radio, which makes Steve grin at Eddie and lean in for a quick kiss.

“Okay, yes, I love you too, but I’ve got plans, sweetheart, and those plans do not involve getting sidetracked by those lips of yours. Which should be legally classified as a weapon, ‘cause damn, baby.”

Steve just laughs, so in love. “You’re so weird.” He means I love you, and they both know it, so Eddie just shoots him a toothy grin in response.

He takes Steve to a wildflower field. “I considered just getting you flowers, but then I figured this would mean even more, right? So. Tell me what you want. Or pick them yourself, even.” He grins and stretches to grab actual gardening shears and twine from the backseat.

“I’m in love with you,” Steve informs him. Eddie does the thing with his eyebrows where his expression gets all melty.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he says softly, then grins again and shoves the shears into Steve’s hands. “Start pickin’, sweetheart.”

Steve laughs, grabs the shears, and runs out of the car.

After they’ve collected almost a full bouquet—and run for their lives from a bee from an ill-picked flower—they tumble back into the car, love-drunk and giggly, before Eddie manages to collect himself.

“Okay, wow, I’m starting to think buying the flowers would’ve been worth it,” he teases, and Steve just laughs at him. “Anyways. Um. How does a movie sound? I know it’s not necessarily super romantic or whatever but I feel like we could use some down time.”

“Sure,” Steve laughs. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine work for you?”

“Always,” Steve promises, and Eddie’s eyebrows do the thing again, so he reaches to grab Eddie’s right hand and run his thumb over the knuckles.

They head back to the trailer, find a vase for the flowers, and cuddle in closer than absolutely necessary for the movie.

Eddie sneaks away halfway through, citing bathroom. Steve catches on the first time he drops something in the kitchen, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move, just keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the TV.

Dinner is delicious, and romantic as hell, because Eddie somehow found candles somewhere, and they don’t match but that isn’t the point, not when he’s looking at Steve with his heart in his eyes and on his sleeve.

They have spaghetti, and Eddie references that one scene from The Lady and the Tramp, and now Steve’s got his heart in his eyes, and on his sleeve, and they laugh like kids as they try—and fail miserably—to recreate the scene.

It ends with spaghetti sauce splattered on their faces and shirts and the table and somehow the wall. Steve immediately blames Eddie. Eddie just kisses him, which works really well to shut him up.

“Not that I don’t love all this,” Steve starts, surveying the table with a grin, “but is there an occasion or is this just ‘cause? Because this feels like an occasion type of thing.”

An expression flickers across Eddie’s face, there and gone before Steve has time to study it, to figure out what it means. “Just ‘cause, sweetheart, what, I can’t dote on my boy every now and again?”

Steve laughs, pulling him in by the neck to place a sweet kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I’ll never say no to that.”

———————

“Oh my god, Steve,” Robin says the next day. “You’re not gonna believe what Nancy did for me yesterday.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, slightly surprised that they’d both gone on dates, then immediately thinks weirder has happened and puts it out of his mind. “Tell me.”

“Okay, so I get home and there’s a note, and oh my god why are she and Eddie the same, or maybe we’re the same, which we are, but anyways. There’s just a place and time. So I get ready, because I might not know what she’s planning but I know she’s planning something, and I drive over, and it’s the Quarry, and she made me an entire fucking picnic.” She stares at him, wide-eyed, palms flat on the counter as she leans forward. “So we eat, and she has flowers, of course, it’s Valentine’s, and she was so fucking sweet, and then-”

Steve feels like an entire bucket of ice water has been poured on his head. “Wait,” he says, and oh, God, how could he forget, and that’s what the face was about yesterday- “Robs, oh my God, I’m the worst boyfriend in the history of the world, fuck.” He grips his hair with both hands, feels hot tears pricking in his eyes. Shuts them and hisses out again, “fuck.”

“Whoa,” Robin says, “okay, that’s… quite the generalization, bud, and also if it has to do with Eddie, he’s, like, ass over tits for you, I seriously doubt you could fuck up that bad-”

“I forgot,” he whispers, and she shuts up. “I forgot yesterday was Valentine’s. I- fuck, Robs, I gotta go, I gotta-”

“Steve,” Robin says, stopping his spiraling with two firm hands on his shoulders. “Calm down, or I’m stealing your keys. You can’t drive like this. Take a breath. Eddie’s not gonna hate you, okay?”

Steve takes a breath. Another. “But I forgot-”

“I know. And I’m willing to bet Eddie knows. Did he act at all different yesterday?”

“No… no, I mean, he made a face when I asked what everything was for, but then it was gone so quickly I thought I imagined it, and Robs, holy fuck, I don’t deserve him.”

Robin chuckles. “I think you two dinguses exactly deserve each other, actually. Take a breath and go talk to him. If Keith asks I’ll make something up, you know I’m good at that. Clock out, actually, don’t come back, I’ll tell him food poisoning or something. Take your boy on a date, Steve.”

“Okay,” he breathes, then nods. “Okay. I will. Thanks, Robbie.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and runs out.

———————

“You fucker,” Steve says loudly as soon as he’s in the trailer, accusing finger pointing at Eddie, who raises his hands like a kid with a cookie jar and crumbs on their face.

“I don’t know what I did, but I apologize.”

“No, shut up, you don’t get to do that, you don’t get to plan a Valentine’s date for me and then not tell me! Fuck! Eds, I’m so sorry.” He deflates, hand coming down and shoulders slumping. “I wish I could tell you I had something planned, but I didn’t. And I know there’s ways for me to remember, there’s calendars and sticky notes and shit, and I didn’t do any of that and I have no one to blame but myself and I’m sorry.”

Eddie stands, walking over to Steve to pull him into a hug. “Darling, I need you to listen to me on this, okay?” He asks seriously, pushing Steve’s head back to drop a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t care.” He waits until Steve’s brow begins to furrow before continuing. “I don’t care that you forgot. I don’t care that there might be ways to help you remember. I like you for you, not for whatever mask you wore in high school, even if I did have an embarrassing crush on you back then. Point is I’m here for you now, and the you that I’m in love with sometimes forgets some things. Who cares? Not me. I’ll never care. Every day with you is an adventure, Stevie. All the big dramatic love confessions in those romance movies you like so much are basically wedding vows, I know you know this, and there’s a reason sickness and health are in there. Sickness is as low as a person can get. Once you’ve seen them sick, you’ve seen them hurt and upset. If you can love them then, you can love them. And I’ve seen you in sickness, sweets. There’s nothing you can do to make me love you any less. There’s nothing you can do to make me regret going all out for something that made you happy, even if the reason behind it has to shift.”

Steve blinks back tears. “I hate you.”

“Mhm. Love you too. Give me a kiss, sweetheart.”

He does, pressing in close, keeping it closed-mouth but pouring in all his devotion until Eddie feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Whoa,” he murmurs when they pull back, then grins at Steve, keeping him close. “What’d I tell you, about your lips, they’re dangerous, sweets.”

“Shuddup,” Steve says, and buries his face in Eddie’s chest. “I love you so much.” He pulls back suddenly. “Robin gave me the rest of the day off, because she’s the best platonic soulmate ever, and if you’re not busy, can I take you on a date?”

“Steve,” Eddie starts, and Steve will never get over the way that Eddie just says his name. He’s so whooped. “Is this to make up for yesterday?”

Steve shakes his head. Eddie gives him a look. Steve hesitantly nods.

Eddie sighs and rests their foreheads together. “You don’t need to do that, baby.” At one point they started swaying together, and now they’re dancing in the kitchen to no music, and Steve could cry with how in love he is.

“But… you did all that, and didn’t even mention it when I forgot, and Robin says we deserve each other but I kinda feel like you’re a better man than I will ever be-”

“Steve,” Eddie says again, punctuating it with a kiss. “I’m serious. I don’t need it. You don’t need it. C’mon, c’mere, we can have a date right here, there’s a pizza in the freezer and I have movies, c’mon, just come sit with me. This is date enough for me.”

“Eds, c’mon, it’s not just a date-”

“Says who?” Eddie asks. He’s grinning like he knows Steve doesn’t have an answer. He’s right, but still.

“Eddie. It’s Valentine’s.”

“Yup. I know you love it, sweetheart, but it kinda goes against the Munson Doctrine.”

“I thought you did away with that when you kissed me.”

“Pretty sure you kissed me,” Eddie says on reflex, like he does every time. “But my point still stands. It’s nothing but a ploy to make people buy overpriced shit to make themselves feel better about themselves and their love life or lack thereof. I refuse to participate.”

Steve pauses. Grins. “Today’s the fifteenth.”

“That’s correct.”

“Candy’s discounted right now.”

“Fuck,” Eddie whispers, then starts laughing. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s go buy me candy. But that’s it. Then we’re coming back and watching a movie, deal?”

Steve grins, bright and happy and in love, as he leans in for a kiss. “Deal.”

[hwadess]

[00:28] stoner!yunho (s)

this is actually my first fic ever on this account and i haven’t really kept up with writing since like 2019??? lol… here goes nothing! i did not fully proof read this so if there are any errors pls let me know 😭 also, i feel like this goes without saying but obviously i know weed is NOT legal in south korea, but this is a work of fiction and i like having fun. i am 100% projecting. yep! anyways,

warnings are underneath the cut!

MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

remember, tumblr’s algorithm works off of reblogs. i love and appreciate likes but please reblog my work as well if you like it ♡ much love!

warnings: reader has female anatomy and is called gendered terms associated primarily with females, !!!usage of marijuana!!!, dom!yunho, some light stoner terms, reader tells yunho to stop but doesnt mean it, size kink, use of nicknames/pet names/titles (baby girl, tiny, angel, doll, good girl, yuyu, sir), obv strong language, unprotected sex (please always stay safe during sex!), creampie, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f receiving), degradation, humiliation. if i forgot any i will add!

word count: idk i edited it in app and lost track (jk update its 3,479!

your friend group was definitely a crazy one, hosting escapades you could never imagine by yourself, making so many memories. all of your firsts were with your friends by your side. hell, you would be with your friends every single second of every day if you could, but today when yunho came home talking about how he had someone in the group find some really good weed, you knew you had to try it alone with him. even though you knew you’d definitely hear from wooyoung about it later. yunho told you that he was sworn to that it would create one of the best highs you had ever faced.

god, you were hoping that his friend was right. you knew how you were when you smoked, you were excited. of course, the two of you could not waste such an opportunity, right?

your head is filled with warmth as your body started feeling floaty, the harsh coughing from the first hit of this third blunt really helping the feeling set in. the drug began to hit you even harder at this point, turning your entire world into a dizzy, yet comfortable daze. you look over at yunho, eyes half lidded from the effects of the bud, bright with the reflection of the led lights that outlined the corners of your bedroom walls.

you took a second to absorb every single detail of his appearance, his hoodie somehow big on him, making you wonder how you’d look wearing it, remembering how big he is already. he was wearing sweatpants, the string on it tightened just enough to hold them loosely around his hips. the weed had the gears in your mind grinding even harder than usual, he looked fucking amazing.

you don’t know if it was the overwhelming urge to be close to him, or what got into you, but before you knew it, your leg was thrown over his lap, and you were there, straddling him on the sofa in the bedroom. taken back by this a bit, yunho breathlessly laughs before cocking a brow at you, head lolling back lazily along the back of the couch from laughing. you take your almost completely cashed blunt, placing it in the ashtray beside the two of you, immediately bringing light kisses to the part of his neck thats barely exposed by the oversized hoodie. fuck, he was so perfect.

that’s all it took, his body began to react what seemed almost instantaneously, his hips subconsciously pressing against you, starting the process of getting hard, as he grabbed your waist for leverage.

“ooh what’s this, pretty girl,” he cooed out, pushing your hair back out of your face, exposing all of your features even more to him. you were so pretty, “some weed got your little pussy wet?”

“no, you did,” you barely managed, the breath barely leaving your lungs. he smirked at you before tapping your side, automatically remembering that’s his sign for wanting you to raise your arms to sneak off your shirt.

“well, i’d better take care of this little problem i created, don’t you think doll?” with large yet gentle hands, he eased you off his lap on the sofa to take you to the opposite side of the room to his bed.

the room was coated in a haze of smoke as the bed creaked ever so quietly underneath the weight of you two. the harsh smell of this particular leaf clung to your senses but you were used to it, the smell didn’t bother you as much as you thought. even if you weren’t used to it, you weren’t sure how much you could even pay attention to the smell of anything when your tall boyfriend was pulling off his sweatpants to reveal his semi-hardened cock. your mind was full, the thoughts mixing in your head, enough to make you fucking dizzy. the effects of what you smoked had long since taken over, you were feeling so much.

“you wanted to start this, so go ahead.” he said, moving back onto the bed with you and then laying down against the bed, head on the pillows, gesturing down with his chin.

you knew better than to act stupid. your whole body shuddered when you looked up at him and saw him wearing the cockiest smirk you swear you had ever seen in your life. he was gonna be the death of you.

you crawled on top of him, taking the same position you had on the bedroom sofa, but this time you took his thick cock in your hand, positioning the tip of him at your entrance.

“wait, angel” he interjected, grabbing your wrist to make you release his cock. your swear your need was about to boil over any second now, mind burning with the thought of how close he was to filling your needy hole up.

“do you think you can take me like this?” he asked, looking at how big his cock looked next to your cunt. you stared back at him, blinking blearily, you were overtaken with confusion and the empty feeling in your chest having the pleasure of his cock that was so tantalizingly close ripped away from you, so hungry for his cock buried in you.

“just a couple more things, doll,” yunho adjusted in his spot, putting pillows underneath the back of his head, so he was laying up a bit more. he brought one large hand to your waist to stabilize you so you stayed still on your knees above him while his other hand slid between your thighs, spreading your folds to run his finger down to find your wet entrance. when he felt the arousal seeping from you just by gliding his fingers through your slit, he hummed softly, sinking two digits inside you which drew a pathetic cry from you.

his fingers were coated in your wetness as he pulled them out, but he still took a moment to tease you by brushing the pads of his fingers along your clit and dip his fingers in just an inch or so a few times until he was satisfied enough with how worked up you were. it wasn’t until yunho retrieved it that you realized he had his unfinished blunt tucked behind his ear, licking off his fingers coated with your juices before grabbing the lighter on the nightstand and lighting it, unexpectedly blowing all the smoke right into your face, making your eyes burn with tears. if they were from the smoke, or from need, that you weren’t too sure of.

“alright pretty baby, you should sink down for me,” he ashed his blunt before looking back at you, cocking an eyebrow at you, making you shiver.

his eyes were on your shaky ones as you eagerly positioned him at your entrance. the moan you let out as every single inch of thick cock grazed against against your walls menacingly slow was absolutely sinful. the neediness in your moan made yunho’s cock twitch inside you as you slowly worked him deeper into your wet cunt.

“now that’s a good girl, huh?,” yunho groaned out, one arm beneath his head on the pillow and the other gripping your waist. between his lips was the blunt, smoke going up in a helix from the burning tip and the corner of his mouth as he panted, feeling your tight walls squeeze him, filling up your little stretched out cunt.

your body was so sensitive to every touch, every single feeling running through your body. you could feel yunho’s cock everywhere. it was so overwhelming. all you could think about was how delicious it felt that his cock was ramming into that one particular spot that made you feel like you were going to pass out right there on his dick splitting you open.

your whole body was so sensitive from the pot, so much so that you found yourself on the edge quickly. your body began to tremble harder than you have before and you gasped out to your boyfriend, hands reaching to bring him closer,

“fuck. i’m gonna cum.” yunho laughs, feeling your cunt clench around his cock, “already, huh?” he mocks you, taking another hit while he watches your trembling fingers leave the grip on his shirt to find your swollen clit to hurl yourself into your crashing orgasm. your hips spasmed uncontrollably and your cunt was squeezing him as you came all around his thick cock, but you continued to ride him, abandoning your clit in favor of going back to grabbing onto his hoodie for leverage.

“fuck, tiny, you’re so good,” he grunted, rutting his cock up into you deeper. “yuyu, y-your c-cock is… s-so g-good,” you barely managed to choke out, bottoming out and grinding your clit against the base of his cock as you felt another orgasm already building in your tummy.

“gonna cum again?” he laughed this time, making your cheeks sting with humilation, but if anything this fueled you working yourself over the edge for him until you were trembling on top of his cock once more.

“fuck!” you yelped out, focusing on your bouncing to aim his cock to brush against the spot that feels the best. you didn’t even give yourself a break, eager to find your next release, eager to make him cum. you just wanted to be so good for him, all you wanted him was for him to fill you up with his cum.

yunho was basically panting, skin glowing shiny under the blue led lights in the room as a light coat of sweat coated his forehead, and he couldn’t deny that you looked so gorgeous right now. he adored when you were so insatiable to the point where you lost your mind on his cock, using him as your toy to make yourself cum. he was more than happy to sit there and let you take what your body needed.

and you, you were a sight for sore eyes. sweat beading over your body with your head thrown back, as you ground down on him with your little cunt filled with his long cock. you had already cum so much already, and you weren’t sure how much or what time it even was. time was a blur at this point, and it was the last thing you were gonna think about. the creases of your thighs, as well as his were both covered in your cum, creating sloppy, loud wet noises every time your skin met.

you were positive you had stained the bed beneath the two of you now, there was no way it hadn’t. it was filthy and you both fucking loved it.

“fuck, yunho!” you pathetically wailed, holding yourself down as deep as possible once you bottomed out, reaching down with a desperate hand to brush against your swollen clit gently enough to initiate the most toe-curling orgasm out of yourself that you think you have ever experienced. yunho groaned, pulling the blunt out of his mouth to blow a lungful of smoke back into your face as you gasped for air from cumming so hard.

“god, i can fucking feel you cum like that doll,” he groaned, tucking the rillo back in his mouth in to grab onto your tits, relentlessly pinching your hardened nipple between his fingers.

“jesus fucking christ,” you groaned, placing your hands behind you on his thighs, using him for leverage as you began to bounce onto him again. you had no idea how the burn of your thighs wasn’t bothering you as much as it should’ve been, but you just equated it to the thc flowing through your system. “you feel so fucking good, yuyu, fuck!”

“what was that?” something shifted in him, watching you through dark and heavy eyes as you lost yourself on his cock. his cock twitched in your cunt so hard, “your tiny cunt’s so fucking sensitive, couldn’t stop cumming even if you wanted to, huh?”

“fuck. yuyu, i’m gonna cum.” the nickname took his breath away, he loved how pathetic and small you looked while hungrily bouncing on his cock, calling him such a cute nickname. he could never admit it but the nickname made him fall apart, but he wasn’t going to admit that. yunho hisses, feeling your cunt clench around his cock that he swears has never been this hard before.

your head went blank, everything was subconscious at this point, digging your nails into the skin of his thighs, grinding your clit against the hilt every time his cock filled you to the brim.

yunho scowled, seemingly unsatisfied that you weren’t answering him. he sat up slightly, tangling a hand into your hair and gripping a fistful tightly to force you to stop bouncing on him, making your eyes meet his worriedly.

your pupils were blown, eyes shining with tears of need. your body was trembling above him as a sign that you were desperately close to another orgasm, and he stole that from you. this was the first time he had really moved since you got onto the bed, and the sight of him taking another long, thick hit, tapping off the ash off the side of the bed carelessly, and then blowing the smoke right into your face with a blank expression had you clenching pathetically around him.

“hmm, i asked you a question, angel,” he cooed, speech a little mumbled as he held the blunt between his lips again to free up both of his hands. wrapping both hands around your waist to shove you onto his cock the deepest it could possibly reach.

“i, i didn’t hear what you asked…” you whimpered, his cock making contact with your cervix from the angle he was sitting at now.

“i know that. poor thing,” he loosened his hold on your hair to move to cup your face almost a confusing amount of gentle, “so fucked out on my cock you can’t even think? is that what’s happening here?”

“y-yes sir,” you whimpered, the attempt to grind down against him unnoticed failed as your clit throbbed so painfully from the neglect.

“sir, huh? cute. sir fucked you dumb?” he smirked, reaching up and taking away the blunt completely now, putting it fully in the ashtray that was at the nightstand.

“y-yes,” it was a small reply, not able to get anything out that was more than that. you just wanted to cum for him again.

“my stupid little baby girl,” he chuckled, his lips against yours. you immediately responded, the pot aftertaste lingering in his mouth. you wrapped your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss as you began to bounce on him again.

“fuck,” you cried, feeling close as you ground your clit against his pelvic bone every time you sunk down onto him. yunho lowered himself back down against the pillows again, but this time, he wasn’t letting you take control in any sort of way this time. he started to fuck up into your dripping cunt instead of leaving the work to you completely.

“rub that clit tiny, cum on my cock again,” he panted out, grabbing your free hand, which had been busy playing with your nipples, to press your fingers against flush your clit. “fuck that’s it,” he praised when he felt your pussy flutter around him, watching you gently circle the bud as you rode him to your high.

the sight of you just using his body for your own pleasure while feeling your warm cunt wrapped around his throbbing cock was beginning to become too much, he could feel the heat of his own orgasm beginning to sneak up on him. the amount of self control he’s able to show after all this time was still astounding to you, and you just wanted to break that and let him paint your insides with his cum.

“fuck, fuck, i’m cumming again,” you got out in between broken words and gasps for air, thighs trembling as your high washed over you so hard it almost hurt. this time, the force from the orgasm was so intense you were unable to hold yourself up and you leaned down to rest your face against his chest as you panted and trembled through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

everything happened way too fast, and suddenly you found yourself on your back with yunho towering above you. his cock slipped out of you in the process, making your hole clench pathetically when you realized you weren’t full anymore.

“what are you doing…” you whined, arching your hips in a lazy attempt to get him back inside you.

“im gonna eat you out,” he mumbled, instantly lowering on the bed until his head was between your thighs. “oh fuck, you’re soaking,” he used his thumbs to spread your folds apart, exposing your entrance and swollen clit to the chilly air in the room. “how many times have you cum?”

“i don’t remember,” you muttered almost lifelessly. it felt so nice to be lying on your back again and giving your legs a break. you were so gone at this point, how could you remember?

“what a slut,” he growled, dragging the flat of his tongue against the tip of your clit, before shoving his tongue into your hole, coating his tongue in your delicious juices. your hands shuffling to yank at his hair when he used the tip of his tongue to graze your clit gently.

“holy fuck, that feels so good,” you whined out, arching your hips to grind against his tongue, making him chuckle.

it was unfair, how fucking good yunho’s cock felt in you, and how he had a sinfully good mouth. the feeling of his tongue licking over your swollen bud and you remembering how good his cock felt filling you up just minutes ago had you you cumming so much, spiraling into another screaming orgasm. this time, however, as your eyes rolled back and you let out a shriek of his nickname that he loved so much, you felt yourself utterly gush against his tongue.

“fuuuck,” yunho growled, sitting back on his heels before immediately sliding into your embarrassingly wet cunt without a second thought. the noises that came when he sunk into you would have embarrassed you if you not for the weed and the adrenaline pumping through your system.

“c-can’t anymore, yuyu, please stop,” you whined, but made no attempts to halt him as he began pounding into your sopping wet cunt.

“fuck. i. got. you. babygirl,” he whispered through grunts, attempting to give your lips little pecks although his deep and rough thrusts offset them a bit. “can you cum once more for me?” he panted out, eyes scanning over your fucked out, dumb expression.

“if you cum in me,” you compromised, drawing a dark change in his eyes from him as he nodded.

“anything you want, tiny,” the two of you fell into relative silence aside from your whines and moans mixing with his grunts and the wet sound of his cock fucking so deeply your cunt. he licked his pretty fingers before reaching down to spread your lips open and found your swollen clit, brushing against your bud softly as he knew how sensitive it would be and it felt like someone was shooting electricity down your nerves.

he continued to fuck you until you reached your last high, thighs clamping and trembling around his waist and your hand ripping his away from your throbbing clit. with a handful of powerful, deep thrusts, ropes of his thick cum were filling you up, and a long drawn-out groan came from his sweet lips.

the both of you were still for a minute, just sharing a moment to take a few deep breaths as his cock softened inside you before he pulled out, making you gasp from the realization of how spent your hole was. his cum leaked out of you, dripping down onto his blue comforter. he sighed, before catching it with his fingers. he brought his wet and soiled fingers to your lips, and you eagerly took them into your mouth with a small whimper; the bitter flavor of his cum spreading over your tongue.

watching yunho sink his exhausted body down to force your thighs apart wasn’t an uncommon occurrence when the two of you were done. you were tired but you sighed, letting your eyes gently shut as his tongue slid between your folds to catch the mixture of both of your cum thats leaking out of you profusely at this rate, while being gentle enough to not even brush against your clit anymore tonight.

“i love you,” yunho pets your head, fingers combing gently through your hair, “so good for me.”

“i love you, yuyu,” you hum. you don’t think you’re ever smoking with any of your friends present ever again.

[tangerinesgirl]

can i request some hcs for what kind of underwear the dan characters wear

oooh I liked this one! I just did the Kinktober men but would love to hear inboxes or replies for other Dan peeps!

Warnings: smut, 18+, GN!Reader

König

König prioritises comfort and warmth over style. His underwear of choice would be long johns, especially thermal ones for the winter. When reader first finds out he wears these, they giggle realising he's showing his age, but you find it quite sexy as it meant you're dating an older and mature man. bonus points if reader has a (legal) age gap.

Frank

I can absolutely see him as a boxer briefs person, stylish and cool. Post vampirism, I can see him going fully commando for that maximum power trip. Especially when reader and him are on a mission or a date, he loves seeing your reaction when you find out. After all, it's easier access to get to you to release his frustrations after a particular tasking mission.

Alexander Lemtov

Extra and sexy, Lemtov is definitely a thong or bikini brief. He wants to look and feel hot at all times. Does not care for comfort, only cares for how his dick looks, but still needs that bit of support when performing so his "large cock doesn't spill out" (his words not mine). With his tight pants he wears on stage, he needs some short underwear so no lines are visible through them. He also likes wearing them to impress you, of course, even if he is quite vein and wears them for himself first and foremost.

Trapper

Trapper has some very cool patterned boxers. He has a bit of a collection, you borrowed a few occasionally, wearing them around the house with a long shirt. He found it super attractive. Your personal favourite ones were these neon bright flowers, pink yellow and blue on a black background. Reminiscent of the hawaiian shirts he would wear.

David Haller

Bog standard boxers, he doesn't think much about his underwear. He doesn't see the point of having fancy ones, they just come off during sex anyways. It's also not like reader pays attention to them, David is too busy making you think about other things, like how many times you'll cum without him touching you.

Matthew Crawley

I feel like he keeps up with the latest fashion while at Downton, thanks to the servants when he reluctantly agrees for them to dress him. He starts out wearing the all in one underwear union suit, then is quick to try the snug briefs. Even though the suit really exentuates his curves and he pulls it off marvellously, reader prefers the briefs as they could touch his chest more. Unfortunately, boxers weren't popular until the late 20s. So...RIP Matthew, you would have loved boxers.

David Collins

Absolutely a boxer briefs man, comfy and sexy. Calvin Klein waistband peaking out the top of his jeans to make people go crazy, making them easier to manipulate to get what he wants. Sorry reader, that includes you. He's not opposed to objectifying himself if that means being closer to his mission goal.

[baby--charchar]

Baby Vaggie and Autism!

Cw: description of a meltdown, based on my own experiences having them. Absolutely okay if anyone needs to skip this.

So it goes without saying that Vaggie is straight up autistic, not just autistic when she's regressed. However, Big Vaggie had been trained to SEVERELY mask as an exorcist, where there was no tolerance for burnout, sensory issues, or social fatigue. It probably crossed the lines into straight up abuse multiple times.

In Hell, she still tries to keep up that mask. Her urge to protect Charlie and her team leads her to giving herself no leeway to accommodate herself. I think that while she overall thrives with her newfound family, her constant masking is still tearing her apart. She likely had many shut-downs that others misinterpreted as her just being moody.

Learning to unmask probably began as it's own process apart from regression. But I feel that they likely converged after one major meltdown. Vaggie felt like a pressure cooker about to explode with everything going on, then something relatively small happened to break the camel's back so to speak. One minute she's silent on the couch in the lobby, filling out legal paperwork, then the next she's screaming her lungs out and flipping the table.

I imagine her meltdowns as rare but SEVERE. Lots of screaming, hyperventilating, pacing around the room, banging her head, and biting herself. Months and months of that pressure releasing in one instantaneous explosion.

Charlie would be so scared and wouldn't know what to do. She just wants to hold Vaggie, but every time she tries, Vaggie just panics more.

Lucifer doesn't REALLY have experience with this, but he has strong "papa bear" instincts for both of his girls. He lets Vaggie ride it out just until she's no longer being unsafe. After which he places his hands on her shoulders and gently guides her towards the elevator. He keeps repeating, "You're safe, you're okay. We're going to your room. We're gonna rest." She's still sobbing, but she starts to untense the more he assures her.

Once they're home, Vaggie is still overwhelmed but is doing better. She wants Charlie's touch and is squeezing her HARD, mustering up as much deep pressure as she can. Lucifer gets her some water in a sippy cup (sensing where Vaggie is headed) and it helps.

By the time she's recovered, she is VERY deep into baby space. Enough to where she's struggling to sit up and walk on her own. Lucifer gets her changed and into her favorite pajamas. It's not long before she slips into sleep.

Moving forward, Charlie and Lucifer try encouraging Vaggie to unmask: find stims she likes, rest more, whatever that means for her to make herself more comfortable. Big Vaggie is naturally resistant, always pushing herself to do more, to BE more for the hotel. But Baby Vaggie? You don't have to tell her twice.

Baby Vaggie feels safe with Charlie and Lucifer. She's finally relaxed enough to follow her own instincts, whether that be how she moves her body, how she gets her point across, or just how she entertains herself.

Vaggie is completely nonverbal, but finds other ways to communicate. She knows that if she screams long enough, someone will come pay attention to her. She really likes that system, so there is LOTS of screaming. They get good at recognizing what different screams mean, like "I want food," "I need to be changed," or just, "I want to spend time with someone."

Charlie makes her a small communication card and keeps it clipped to a lanyard that Vaggie can wear. It has all her favorite foods, toys, and people, for when she really needs to be specific.

She also keeps a large chewie on that lanyard. Without it, Vaggie's prone to putting nearly anything in her mouth, be it her clothes, blankets, crayons, whatever. All her shirts have tiny little holes from her gnawing.

Vaggie has lots of sensory needs. Some of them, like food and smells, she's very restrictive about. She has very few foods she'll eat in her headspace, and abhors any lotions or powders on her skin.

For other senses, she just can't get enough of them. As a former soldier who was VERY active, her body's used to heavy input to her muscular and balance systems (proprioception and vestibular). This honestly scared Lucifer at first because she would do some very unsafe things to soothe her body, like running into walls at full speed or climbing up on the kitchen counters. It took him a long time to realize what the hell she was doing, let alone how he could help her.

But once he got it, he got it. He set up so many "sensory stations" for her in both his room as well as Vaggie's. She's got trampolines, a crash pad, a swing attached to the ceiling, and a baby bouncer custom built for her. She can have SO much energy and often ends up running between all four of these when she's regressed.

It's important to note that she's on trampoline #4. Numbers 1-3 were just no match for her boundless energy.

Side note: that boundless energy may also come at night, as Vaggie has a hard time regulating her sleep. Lucifer is such a Bewildered Dad over her, but their late nights have made way for good bonding time. Vaggie honestly feels just as safe with Lucifer as she does Charlie. Her little family.

Vaggie can be very repetitive with what she enjoys, especially TV or music. She can play the same 3-second clip over and over again and bust out laughing every time.

Vaggie also loves COLORS. Her blocks are her favorite toy because of just how many beautiful colors they come in. Pastels, primaries, jewel tones, you name it. She loves sorting them by color, shade, tones, etc.

Baby Vaggie is a huge fan of messy play. Charlie loves playing in the sandbox or pool with her, and splashing is so mesmerizing to her. She also loves just getting into things, like makeup, slime, food, shower gels, whatever. She can absolutely DEMOLISH a room.

But that comes with the stipulation that she gets to be clean after! The jetted tub in their room is her favorite place to be after a long day being big or little! She just has to be watched very closely by someone so she can stay safe (and of course, NOT destroy the bathroom).

Because being little is the only time Vaggie seems to not want to suppress herself, Charlie encourages her to regress often. She loves Baby Vaggie! And Vaggie always seems so much more content after a couple of hours in babyspace. It's just a good balance, and it's a system that works for them!

[jikjinz]

❝ [where is my mind] ¡! ❞

CONTAINS: treasure legal line (without mashi & yedam) x reader, separately; perverted behavior & thoughts, panty-stealing; suggestive themes, let me know if i should add something !!

TAGLIST: @he4rtsforjihoon @yedamies-blackswan @ahncosette

a/n: gotta repost some stuff ehe

✧.* CHOI HYUNSUK !!

a shy baby, definitely flustered by his own thoughts! But on the other hand, he just can’t resist it; his mind almost automatically wanders toward such things. definitely the type of guy who gets nervous and stiff every time you hug him because omg !!! you’re so close to him !!! He likes to watch your hands and lips, but he focuses on these parts purely mindlessly. though when he does, he can’t help but think. think hard. think hard to not think about how your hands would look in his, how your hands would look around his length, or how your lips would feel on his neck. when he catches himself thinking so, all he wants is to disappear; there’s no way you’re interested in him, right? right?

more under the cut !!

✧.* PARK JIHOON !!

he is cocky indeed, though there’s one exception: you. every time you’re around, he either gets quiet or too loud and angry. it seems like he doesn’t like you that much, at least that’s what everyone thinks. in reality, he likes you way too much. sometimes it even physically hurts. especially when he’s trying to get off, but his hand is not enough. he needs you. neither your panties he’s stolen nor the images he has in mind with you can help. all he needs is your pretty hole and your shaky pleading voice. At this point, he’s sure you are provoking him, although he has brought this upon himself while stealing your first pair of panties. since then, you try to test his limits and see how fast he breaks.

✧.* KANEMOTO YOSHINORI !!

“don’t test me, i will cry at you” type of guy. another shy and flustered baby. he tries to justify himself thinking that you’re doing this all on purpose. it looks like you want to make him so dirty, don’t you??? and all he can do about it is just scream into his pillow because there’s no way he can make it happen !!! he gets so blushy every time you talk to him; most of the time it’s you who do the talking since yoshi is too focused on keeping his burning desires solely for him. there is NO way he’s confessing to you. not at all. definitely not. nu-uh. though when you look at him with those doe eyes… he might break… keep it up!!!

✧.* KIM JUNKYU !!

the scared screamer type. every time he has a dirty thought about you, he will hit those high notes, scaring you off as well. will try to keep you as far away as possible, so maybe he’ll forget about you. forget about you and about what he would want to do with you. he tends to daydream about you a lot, like A LOT. doesn’t matter what he’s doing or where he is, his mind tends to go back to your body nicely hugged by the tightest dress he’s ever seen you in. then a loud scream occurs because poor boy scared himself with such thoughts :(((

✧.* YOON JAEHYUK !!

he is on the edge. he is being tested, he knows that. he also knows he is about to break. break his composure and the bed he’s gonna fuck you on if you’re gonna keep testing him like that. at this point, it looks like some kind of competition. the tension is strong between you both, but neither of you wants to admit it. since you are so obvious, he’s taking few advantages of certain situations. every time you wear a nice shirt with few buttons undone, he will stare at your cleavage shamelessly. probably will leave a comment about how your boobs would look better with his marks all over them.

✧.* HAMADA ASAHI !!

he is way too cool for his own good. he’s pushing all these lewd thoughts for way too long!!! he is about to combust with them !!! even though he often says that he’s ok, he is not. definitely not. not at all especially when its summer and you’re eating popsicles. or when you’re too hungry to care about how you look while eating a banana. it’s not like you ever cared, though. you’re too innocent to even think someone else would think lewdly about such a mundane thing, right? either too innocent or too blind to notice how asahi is turning his strawberry-red face away, covering it up with his hand. nah, he’s ok.

| TREASURE MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST |

@ jikjinz / @ ness-iness 2022-2023, do not copy, do not translate or paste on other sites without permission !!

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Smash or Pass!

Thanks for tagging me @the-golden-comet (here)! Imma give y'all a tough choice with this one (:

Dylan Millihan

Info/facts:

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Age: 23

Occupation: Medical school dropout (had to quit college to take legal guardianship of his sister after their toxic grandmother died of a heart attack and left nothing but debt in their name), now works 3 jobs - security guard at a lake resort, delivery driver and warehouse loader.

Personality Type: ISTP, Introvert, 6w5

Appearance: Tall and handsome, Dylan is very athletic and works out a lot. He has medium to long hazel hair that usually frames his face in soft waves, and has tan white skin. His eyes are dark brown, and he doesn't smile often, being a really serious person, but when he does smile, he really means it. He usually wears long-sleeved button-up shirts, usually not buttoned up fully and usually in dark grey or graphite black, simple jeans and converse sneakers. He is 5'10'', or around 180cm.

Pronouns: He/Him

Pros:

Very loyal and protective, ride-or-die even to a fault - he always makes sure his loved ones are okay before even thinking about himself. While his cold or gruff exterior may lead some to think he doesn't care at all about anyone other than himself, that couldn't be farther from the actual truth. Dylan cares a lot, even if in a "hey, take care of yourself, you damn idiot" way - he usually expresses his care in actions rather than in words, and may have a hard time verbally expressing his true feelings.

Calm, practical, and efficient. Dylan knows how to handle high-pressure situations really well and can navigate dangers with ease without batting an eye. He tends to be rather unflappable when it comes to most trials and tends to face problems head-on rather than avoid them, so he is definitely a go-to person if you are in trouble or need some kind of help.

Responsible and hardworking, will always make sure things are going smoothly and knows how to make the best out of a situation despite his outwardly pessimistic outlook.

Loves music, especially folk-pop, and always has a playlist playing in the background, be it on a speaker, on the radio or on headphones. This means that the environment around him tends to be lively despite the fact that he is really quiet.

Is actually a really good listener and despite his often harsh or distant attitude, actually gives some pretty good advice when he wants to, and knows when to just stay quiet and let someone vent.

Loves cuddles but precious few people are close enough in his emotional circle to warrant that level of trust. You'd probably need to spend a lot of time developing your relationship but it would be 100% worth it.

Gives the best gifts, actually.

Cons:

Dylan tends to be very aloof and guarded, typically keeping others at arm's length because he assumes everyone is already judging him and/or has a hidden agenda. This also makes him someone who is very reserved and feels awkward at social gatherings, making him quite a bit difficult to get close to.

Can be strong-willed to the point of board-headed stubbornness, especially when something causes his emotional wounds to cloud his judgment. When angry has a rather pessimistic outlook, especially about himself and how his life is going.

Has a rather blunt personality and while this has a good side, as he says things as they truthfully are and doesn't mince words in a time of need, this can also make him unintentionally sound more callous or come off sharper than he intended to.

Tends to bottle up his feelings behind a "Yeah, I'm fine," and "I said I would handle it!" facade because he thinks he needs to handle everything himself but that just means he shoves his emotions into a box like a pressure cooker and that isn't a really healthy way to handle problems. Still thinks vulnerability is a threat to his and his loved ones' safety and thinks he needs to act accordingly.

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @wyked-ao3, @topazadine @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@cherrychiplip @thecomfywriter @thelovelymachinery @bookwormclover

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

[carpememes]

10 Minute Power Hour Starters

"You gotta warn me because I was just about to yell 'Remember who made you cum?' and how embarrassing would that shit have been?"

"We've got ____ here. Can you believe it?"

"Alright, shut the fuck up, everybody."

"No, not the stegosaurus!"

"Oh! We're giving samples. I've done this before."

"Can you Urkel your way to a win?"

"I don't love this."

"Glug glug glug, now I'm drunk."

"WOO! Show us how it's done, baby!"

"It's what all the kids on youtube are doing."

"Where is this piece? Did you steal my piece?"

"Bro, I'm killing it."

"Am I right, the youth?"

"You didn't even savor the peelies."

"You just ripped it off like a barbarian."

"Sizzle sizzle, baby bitch."

"It's gonna be really dramatic and cool!"

"I don't want a pumpkin growing in my belly."

"What a fool he is, to get wood confused with food items."

"I told my mom to help me clean it up and she said 'no thank you'."

"___ said I look like the floor of an arcade."

"My heart is beating so fast right now."

"Spin the wheel, you bitch."

"We're visible to lots of people, but it feels great to be truly seen by someone special."

"Well, not like my BEST best friend but he's definitely in that class."

"That's too much plastic crap."

"You look like something they'd serve at 2 in the morning at iHop."

"I feel like i just came back from a mythical creature bukake."

"This is what the ladies are into. A big ol brain horn of goo."

"I'm an ex-man. Which means I used to be a man."

"Yeah you won. Everyone's great. Three people need to go to the hospital but hooray you won."

"Thanks for invalidating my win, dude. I worked hard for this."

"You popped which means you are legally obligated to not stop."

"Please. No laughter."

"I feel you should've said something."

"I has bro! Do you has bro??"

"Well, I think you get double points for that."

"You got a serious buttchin and you need to admit it and use it!"

"YOU DID THIS!"

"We're losin it. We're losin it! ___, we're losin it!"

"This shirt's better now."

"No don't! ___, fucking, god damn it!"

"That was the most legit anger I've heard out of you in so long."

"Why is it filled with chestnuts?! And a lemon!"

"Thanks for celebrating my birthday. This was really fun and not depressing."

"Hold on! I have to do some research."

"Jesus. Reginald. Christ."

"You did it! It's a nightmare."

"What do you think? You think i look sexy?"

"Am i out kissin vandals and vagrants?!"

"Imagine I'm rubbing your thighs."

"I'm going to open a tube of goo now."

"You're a sucky friend!"

"I'm doing all of the colors, you fuck!"

"I know what makes green! Magic and jesus!"

"Oh cool! It looks not that great!"

"It looks like somebody's pancreas exploded over here."

"Anyone wanna be on camera?"

"Drink it, you armadillo."

"Have you witnessed me?"

"Ew, ewww- EEEWWW!"

"Nooo, I don't wanna be the hulk anymore."

"There we go. That's a big boy."

"Are you gonna attack or are you too scared?"

"Admittedly you wield a lot of power that I was not aware of."

"It makes magic fun!"

"That's not what I wanted at all."

"I feel like a cat that just fell in the bathtub."

"YES! Eat the worms!"

"Early 2000s is retro?"

"What is the best time of day to shake a baby?"

"Oh no! It's making the connection that I'm it's mother!"

"We dont have all day. Im becoming sterile wearing these jock straps."

"So you can stick your little emoji faces in here when you write your diary about how much God has betrayed you."

"That is one of the worst shirts I've seen in my life. Put it on."

"What? Oh, I suppose you want to KISS about it?!"

"I dunno. I guess cuz I'm an asshole."

"What do you mean 'is that really what it looks like'? It looks magical!"

"In this world we must all tilt.... But we also a-whirl."

"Look around you. All you see is death and chaos... Here is a kirby."

"Every birthday is like the grim reaper moving one peg on the abacus of your life."

"Everytime I try to solve it i'm just making things worse. Which is just an analogy for my life."

"I was brewin' in the nutsack of an older man."

"It was like having Chuck-e-cheese right in your house."

"The ooze doesn't smell great."

"Parents killed each other to get this thing."

"I threw up a lot more in the 90s than I do now."

"It's about to erase your memory."

"____, Im so sorry, but there's something your mother and I have to tell you."

"It's not your fault! Don't ever think it's your fault!"

[planet-crait]

Okay so I lied I uh can’t find episode 6. Of anyone has help for that I would appreciate it. Anyways episode 7 does not have the intro and once again I am devastated.

It should be illegal to be that perked up on a Monday. Mondays are evil I have decided. Wait Hazel made a new friend? Dang it curse missing episode 6. Oh Jasmine uh she struggles to sing oh no. At least she’s proud to sing.

Oh Hazel. Fame is uh not what it’s cracked up to be. Is this technically cheating in a contest? Wait didn’t Timmy wish to be popular not involve Father Time? And Hazel being confused about the 15 minutes being literal is strange since that wasn’t her wish it was to be famous.

But also what’s the cost? If he offered a deal…what’s the cost? Fairy’s don’t usually have a cost or even a deal aspect it’s just wish then granted. Also we can clearly see their is hardly any sand in the top while their is quiet a bit on the bottom.

And I’m pretty sure later the watch looks the same despite have some 22 hours left so it’s a very odd choice to do this.

Also side note uh I had to break out a calculator to do that math and Hazel did it in her head? It I’m afraid of her power.

Wait is that squirrel supposed to be Timmy? Was he a squirrel at one point?

Wasn’t this guy a movie star before? Are they just reusing the not Timmy model or does he have two jobs and is working the grind? Not important at all I wouldn’t be surprised if they had to reuse models for stuff given the right budget but also it could be a commentary on the massive wage gaps for movie stars.

Hazel wears hand me downs. I appreciate that as someone with an older sister I always had those. Interesting she wears her older brothers clothes or is it just his shirt because she likes it and wants to feel close to him or she has to? Not important at all but interesting character thing depending on which it is.

Huh why did Cosmo become the interviewing girls mug?

I was wondering when the principle would appear again. Funny it’s this episode. I do like the show showing the haters side of fame even if it’s more over the top to get the point across. The more in the spotlight you are the more jerks come out of the woodworks. The kids all booing her is kind of hilarious though.

Wait they have a separate school for “famous” kids? What state is Dimedelphia in? Cuz Hollywood could potentially be in another state? I’m not sure how legal that is. But I’m also not sure if the legality of forcing all students to repeat a year if one student fails so I suppose that’s on track. I get they need to raise the stakes and give Hazel motive to undo the wish but it’s just. Well weirdly done for me.

Father Time has a boss? Wait Nick of time? Is she his boss? That doesn’t make much sense but who is the boss? I thought the point was Father Time was the ultimate timekeeper? How does New York minutes move faster than regular? I’m so confused about this.

Most head of her time? And mean. Not sure where that one came from lolz.

To help tighten up the script a little and to more organically bring in Father Time I would have had Hazel right off the bat with for her fifteen minutes of fame instead of Cosmo and Wanda changing it on their own. They’ve dealt with Father Time before and should know he’d get involved so having Hazel right off the bat wish for the fifteen minutes herself would fix that issue. Again I appreciate taking a different spin on Timmy’s wishes but for me I think the minor changes would help a lot to make it flow better.

Still not a deal breaker though just something to help out. I also really still don’t get the New York Minute thing. Is it a commentary on the fast pace of New York? Cuz other places are like that too LA coming to mind. Unless I’m missing something which isn’t entirely out of the question. The song was fun though. Onto episode 7!

[catchyhuh]

Sometimes what people wear as pajamas is a weird indicator of personality so... What’s your opinion on their pajamas?

it took less than a second for me to go “how do pjs indicate personaliOhhh wait yeah that does make sense” as I realized I was folding up multiple adult size cartoon character onesies for my own pajama drawer. let’s get into it BUT UH DISCLAIMER i mostly talk about patterns in canon i’ve noticed with just… tiny personal thoughts in here. less headcanons more breakdown. NOW let’s get into it

lupin:

two modes-- soft, fuzzy button up set, or just his underwear. somewhat depending on weather, DEFINITELY depending on mood. i mean you don't wanna get COLD and he got those nice purple heart pajamas with an actual, legal purchase, so it'd be stupid to waste them ALL the time!

there could be a joke here about how he’d probably just sleep naked if the gang weren’t constantly groaning in annoyance, throwing pillows at him begging him to put on some damn pants, but the reality is… he can’t really sleep like that. it’s uncomfy :( he tried :) but it’s uncomfy :(

jigen:

you aren't ready for this. or you are. you likely are, given i had to choose between like 3 different pictures i have of him in fits like this

and i’m dead serious. big ass ankle length nightgown with matching cap. no, really. these are his actual pajamas. they’re comfy to him. i can’t fathom why, maybe the fabric is just equal parts breathable and warm, maybe he did this once for the bit and realized it was the best sleep he ever had, WHATEVER, these are his pajamas, and no amount of teasing by now will stop him from changing into these before going to bed

i have to respect them for committing to this bit, because you think, oh, he’s the coolest. he wouldn’t have lame pajamas. no he does. very lame. hilariously so. arose such a clatter type shit. nighty night scrooge

fujiko:

now, she would LIKE to say big, fluffy, fancy nightgown… but the texture feels bad scrubbing against your skin all night, so she usually just opts for a simpler nightgown. or, like lupin, just her underwear. obvious fanservice aside she’s clearly comfy bundled up like that so you show em how its done fujiko

no matter how cold it gets, she can never really sleep in pajama pants. shorts, maybe, but anything that reaches past her knees feels restrictive, hence why she normally just goes for the nightgown. she doesn’t even kick in her sleep idk why it’s such a big deal!

goemon:

i had to look through a bunch of stuff because i was like. wtf. what DOES he wear to bed. he can’t just be wearing his usual clothes all day and night, it would be uncomfortable. so i’ve come to the conclusion that these virtually identical clothes here are just made of a softer material, designated as goemon’s jammies

or he just. sleeps in his underwear. it really is comfsorry the mental image of the camera panning across three beds where they’re sleeping in their underwear vs jigen still rocking the victorian fit is killing me a bit

zenigata:

have you noticed he sleeps with his hat on more than jigen does. isn’t that fucked. jigen has a special sleeping hat but the alleged NON-hat-obsessed guy is the one sleeping in it. due to his… hectic routine, he never really has a default type of pjs. either he just sleeps in what he was already wearing (c’mon, man) or he’s packed like, some pajama pants, or (take another shot because this series loves this gag) just hits the hay in the heart print boxers. jigen really is a scientific outlier.

USUALLY if he’s bothering to actually change, it’s just the undershirt he’s already got on and some comfy pants, the kind you can get at like walmart for five bucks, so if he’s forgotten to bring them it’s no biggie. damn anon was right this IS a personality indicator!

BONUS YATA!:

as we have oft discussed, yata is a man we have all met at one point in our lives. so, yata has the basic boring man pajamas. t-shirt that’s too big for him but he forgot to return it, and seasonal pajama pants. the pants always seem to mismatch the season, he wore the snowflake ones during summer, and now he’s wearing the halloween ones in winter?

the shirt itself is also mundanely mysterious. nobody can really place the logo on it, and he doesn’t really remember where he got it from either. it doesn’t bother him too much until it’s pointed out to him

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

55 landoscar 9 sebchal 15 lestappen xx

OKAY ANON, MY DARLING, MY DEAR. You're not getting all three of these at once, unfortunately, however clearly you see my posts so know I WILL write the other two and you'll probably see them at some point.

55 - Landoscar, a kiss out of spite This is roughly based off of the plot creature that ran away in my brain about an age-gap Landoscar teammates fic....and may turn into something more. ANYHOW please appreciate this thing I wrote while listening to Hollywood Undead (yes, I do imagine that a millennial Lando Norris would play Hollywood Undead at the club in a DJ set).

“He’s your teammate, Oscar,” Mark’s voice is patient, “It’s fine for you to be friends, but he’s always going to be your greatest rival,” he’s always so fucking level, and while Oscar knows that Mark knows best, it’s still annoying. 

“It’s not like we’re going to be best friends, anyways, Mark, I just want to get to know him, and he invited me out,” Oscar’s tone is bordering on the edge of petulant, leg jumping under the table as he takes a sip from his water bottle. It’s been hard to get here, he gets it, sometimes he even jokes about it. No friends, only enemies. But it’s not entirely untrue. He’s had to work hard to get here. He’s had to claw his way up, tooth and nail. He’s lucky he’s had someone like Mark on his side, someone like Mark, to put faith in him. 

But it’s been lonely. Especially when he is who he is, stoic, unbothered, everything hidden under the perfect mask that he’s learned how to put in place. He learned that all on his own, before he even met Mark. 

“Besides, he’s what, fuckin’ thirty-two, right? It’s not like we’re going to go off and be besties, braid each other’s hair,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food, and Mark just laughs. “Yeah, okay, Oscar,” he says, shaking his head, “Just be careful,” 

Oscar just grumbles an affirmative, finishes shovelling in the too dry chicken from his pre-made meal into his mouth, swallowing hard before finishing his water. “Now, are you done being overbearing, dad?” He asks, smirk tipping up the corner of his mouth, and then Mark’s choking on a mouthful of water, pounding a palm over his chest. 

Doesn’t know how to say he’s never going to figure his shit out as a rookie if Mark’s constantly protecting him from invisible enemies. 

He gets it. His teammate’s his biggest rival. But his teammate is also Lando Norris, and Oscar hasn’t been able to stop looking since they met. Looking at the way Lando’s neck is thick in the ways Oscar still has to train to achieve, at broad hands and long fingers, perfect curls, and that perfected snarky smirk. Oscar hasn’t been able to stop looking since he joined Mclaren, and honestly, maybe Mark’s right, this is a terrible idea. 

But it doesn’t stop him from showing up anyways.

He doesn’t fucking do clubbing. A combination of being freshly legal, a grid rookie, and a fucking introvert. He spends thirty minutes holding up identical t-shirts in different colour to himself in the mirror, each one cast aside because it’s not quite right. Finally settles on something light blue, knows he’s going to regret it when he shows up and he’s the most underdressed one there. Knows at least, that Max will probably be in a fucking Red Bull shirt, so at least he’s trying. Knows the skinny jeans are probably the wrong choice, but at least he knows that he’s not going to get called out for the drawstring jeans that he wears on occasion. 

He can’t help but want to try and impress Lando at least a little bit. Though he doesn’t know if he needs to, because really, he doesn’t think Lando’s really ever going to look his way. He’s still not grown out of his teen looks, his hair’s a little too floppy, and his skin’s even more acne prone since he’s started in Formula 1, balaclavas and helmets hardly conducive to his skin being able to breathe. So it’s fine. He’ll try his best, and that’s all that really matters. 

Time spools out too slowly, when he’s sitting in the cab, fingers tapping a pattern out on his knee. He keeps flipping his phone screen up, keeps waiting to see if Lando’s texted him, to see if anyone’s texted him, like they’re actually expecting him. 

Can’t help but wonder, with ill-timed thought, if the invitation was a joke, and if he’s going to show up and get laughed out of the joint. 

The music’s loud, thrumming through his chest like a second heartbeat, and the flashing lights make him feel like a headache’s pressing at his temples. He has to pause to take a breath, digs bitten fingernails  into the palm of his hand to give him an anchor, as he glances around the club, tries to find a familiar face, tries to ignore the urge he has to check his phone again, again, again. 

It’s Max who spots him first, slings an arm around his shoulders with a broad smile, presses a double gin and tonic into Oscar’s hands, and drags him to where they have a VIP table. There’s a handful of them, Max, Daniel, Carlos tucked off in the corner. “Charles is on the dance floor, somewhere, I think,” Max says, matter-of-factly, like Oscar asked, and he just nods, slowly, takes a sip of the gin and tonic, and then another, lets the sweetbitter flavour wash over his tongue. 

“How’re you doin’, mate?” Daniel asks, wide smile breaking across his features, and Oscar finds it impossibly endearing, that Daniel asks like he actually cares. Thinks that he might actually care. “Christ, this is awkward,” Oscar manages to spit out, at the expectant gazes of the other three drivers, and they all dissolve into laughter, awkwardness slipping away. 

“Where’s Lando?” He deigns to ask, when he’s two more gin and tonics in, despite not actually liking them, and Max just laughs and shakes his head. “He’s doing a set right now, why do you think he invited you tonight?” says the words like they mean something, and Oscar has to narrow his eyes, to try and parse the meaning, to figure out what Max is saying. 

“You mean like he’s DJ-ing?” Oscar asks, and he has to reconcile this with everything he knows about Lando Norris. Arguably, instead of making him cooler, it actually makes him more endearing, a little more human to Oscar, in a way he doesn’t quite know how to explain. “You didn’t know?” Max asks, and Oscar just shakes his head, tosses back another gin and tonic, feels it now, warm and soft on his sharp corners, hazy. He actually wants to dance now, wants to move, a little restless, leg jumping under the table, fingers tapping across the tabletop. 

It still feels like there’s dots that he’s not connecting. 

It’s easily forgotten, though, when Charles drapes an arm around his shoulder, laughing impossibly loud and high, “You did join us, Oscar,” squeezes the curve of Oscar’s shoulder tightly, “Lando told us he had invited you, but I didn’t think you would show.” 

Oscar likes Charles well enough, but the comment makes him bristle. He knows he’s not the most social out of them, a born and bred introvert, but it feels a little unfair, like there’s a challenge underlying there that he shouldn’t have to live up to. Stiffens under Charles grasp, knows that Charles can feel it as he pulls away a little bit. “Lighten up, Oscar, it is not an insult, I’m teasing,” 

Charles reaches across the table to grab for Max’s gin and tonic, and Oscar just watches as Max gives it up easily, watches as Charles presses the glass to his lips and tilts his head back, swallowing it back in one easy go. Wonders if there’s something there that he’s not been privy to because he’s busy listening to Mark talk about how everyone on the goddamned grid is his rival.

“Would you like to dance?” Charles’ voice is back in his ear, and Oscar nods, before he can even think about it. The smile that spreads across Charles’ face is delighted, and he takes Oscar by the hand, drags him to the dance floor, into the mass of writhing bodies. 

It’s probably a mistake. 

From the dance floor, he can’t look away, once he’s seen Lando in the DJ booth, illuminated by the bright lights. He’s got an over-large pair of headphones over his head, black button up that’s open to reveal a triangle of chest hair, and a pair of dark jeans, and his head’s bobbing to the music, bright smile breaking over his features. He’s just about as in his element here as he is in a Formula 1 car, and Oscar can’t help the way his stomach swoops at the revelation. 

“He is good, no?” Charles yells into his ear, and Oscar just nods. Lets himself be taken away by the thrumming music, and the way it feels under his skin, follows Charles’ lead, the rhythmic sway of his hips. It feels almost heavenly, sharp edges of the world blurred by alcohol and music. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s on the dance floor for, until there’s a pair of hands settling on his hips, someone’s pelvis pressing firmly against the curve of his ass. Tilts his head back with a soft sound, leans his head on the offered shoulder, realizing with a start that it’s Lando. The music’s changed to something a little slower, sexier, and the look on Lando’s face is self-satisfied, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles. “Didn’t think you’d show up tonight, kid,” his voice is warm in Oscar’s ear, and Oscar can’t help the way he shivers in Lando’s arms as he keeps dancing. Glances over at Charles, who has a knowing look in his eyes, slipping away before Oscar can tell him to stay. 

“Don’t call me that,” it’s hard to keep his voice from shaking when Lando’s fingers dig in, possessive, as his hips sway, pressed up against Lando’s. “‘M not a kid anymore,” and he feels the shudder of Lando’s laugh more than he hears it. “Younger than me, sweetheart,” his tone’s self-assured, and Oscar has half a mind to be petulant about it. Twists in Lando’s arms so their face to face. Doesn’t allow himself to think of the implications of it, of the way Lando’s thigh nudges between both of his legs, and Oscar’s practically grinding against it. 

“Just a fuckin’ number,” Oscar’s tone is bratty now, and Lando raises a brow. And quite honestly, fuck Mark Webber’s warnings. Lando might be his biggest rival, but Oscar’s pretty sure Lando’s also his biggest crush. 

He closes his eyes, surges forward before he can overthink it, presses his lips to Lando’s gently, pulls away before Lando even has a chance to reciprocate. “Fuck, sorry,” the words fly from Oscar’s mouth before he can stop them, but Lando’s just rolling his eyes, moving one big hand from where it’s wrapped around Oscar’s waist to the nape of his neck, tangling his fingers in messy blonde strands. “Don’t bloody apologize,” is all Lando says, before leaning in to kiss him again, open mouthed and hot, and all Oscar wants is more.