#maybe i have consumed way too much sugar today

[90sbee]

who the fuck invented wireless headphones. can't you see it is now 1:30am in the middle of the week and i am dancing the whole barbie movie soundtrack.

[maxlarens]

I got a lot to say so it might be long,

starting with, thank you for the Charles smau and the Lando fic <3

it took me time to choose an emoji lol but I've been doing an internship and time goes by way too quickly, but I decided to go for the strawberry one 🍓

and since you said you wanted to write for driver! reader, and that she was very intense about driving, maybe you can write something about her racing while she's sick/not feeling well but she still wins the race

woo hi again!!! literally no big deal! i hope ur internship is going well, it’s awesome that you’re doing one!! but yeah literally real life is always the priority as much as i’d also like to spend all my time on here lol. but anyway yay the strawberry is super cute 🍓🥺

and YES lol driver!reader is consuming my thoughts right now. i have other things i should be writing instead of this but i smashed this out in a few days😭 i decided not to make it a win because i have a thing brewing for driver!readers first win and i didn’t want to use up all my ideas for that. anyway!!! as usual thank u for the ask and pls enjoyyy 🤗

OP: extraordinary machine

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: you push yourself to your limits. (also sorry i simply don't know enough technical terms about racing for this to be fully accurate but i hope it works)

word count: 3.4k+

Here is a fact— you’ve got a fever of 39.4 degrees.

Here is another, indisputable fact— you’re racing in Imola today.

The fever had come on overnight after a persistent tickle in your throat all weekend. A mildly sore throat had turned rapidly to a snotty nose, full body chills and sweat pouring off you like you’d just run a marathon. You’re wearing a puffer jacket over your racing suit and it’s twenty-nine degrees out. You feel freezing, you feel delirious, and you’re eating Sour Patch Kids by the handful to keep the sugar rush going. Your race engineer, Rachel, keeps telling you that it’s okay if you can’t race. George can step in, I promise. You keep telling her I’m fine. I’m fine. I can race. But the expression on her face says she doesn’t believe you.

You’re telling practically everyone who’ll listen that you’re getting in that fucking car today. Rachel, George, your mum who keeps calling. Lewis keeps looking at you like you’re about to keel over and die and you want to scream at him you did this! Brazil 2015. You had a fever. You got on the podium. If I can’t do this and you can, what does that mean? But you don’t because that’s your 39.4-degree fever talking and this isn’t about being better than Lewis. It’s about knowing without a doubt that you can still get in that car and race your ass off.

Your phone keeps buzzing with texts from Susie that reassure you that you’d be disappointing no one at all if you had to let George take over this race. You’re not letting down women everywhere and you’re not letting down the team. I know Susie, you keep saying, but I’m still racing.

You know you’ve got to convince Toto when Rachel starts a hurried conversation with George and he starts grabbing his fireproofs like it’s a sure thing he’ll be driving in your place. Bundled up in your coat like it’s the middle of winter, you stomp over to Toto’s office and barge in.

“I’m racing,” you tell him without any preamble.

His head snaps to look at you, expression only mildly surprised— not that you would even notice if you didn’t spend so much time around him. He gives you a once over, eyes lingering pointedly on your jacket and then he raises his eyebrows, “It is twenty-nine degrees outside.”

You suck your teeth in frustration, “I know. The car will be hot. I can race.”

He frowns.

You plead, “Toto. Do not take me out of that car. I can do this.”

He shakes his head, “I can see you sweating from here. You’re not well.”

You shake your head frantically, ignoring how your vision starts spinning, “Let me race. If I fuck up you can put George in the car for Monaco. If I fuck up you can even replace me. I don’t care. Just let me drive today.”

Toto’s face pinches in the way it does when he’s considering something, you can see cogs turning in his head as he evaluates what you’ve said and decides if he should listen to it.

He sighs, “I am not putting that kind of ultimatum on you,” your heart stutters and stops in your chest, and you hold your breath, “Okay. Against my better judgement, I will let you race today.”

You let out an audible breath, it edges out into a sob that makes your aching body curl into itself. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes for a moment to suppress the urge to give in to your fever. It would be easier to give up, it would be easier to let George take your seat for the race so you could crawl into bed and cry the fever out. But none of this has ever been easy for you. You’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, you won’t forfeit a race and let people say you took the easy way out.

You look up. Toto looks concerned.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You practically stumble onto the asphalt before the national anthem, passing your coat off to Rachel while your trainer wipes your forehead with a towel as if you’ve just finished a full-body workout. Your shoulders feel tense, you can’t stand up straight without shuddering so you’re hunched over awkwardly hoping it doesn’t come off looking too strange.

People are still milling about, setting things up while the drivers assemble. You don’t really notice on account of the fever state you’re in, but you end up standing between the McLaren boys. You must brush against Oscar because he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a line and his eyes wide like a puppy dog. You get lost in them a little— because of the fever. Definitely.

“Dude,” Oscar says to you, “You’re really hot.”

On your other side, Lando breaks into a fit of laughter. You frown, your brain trying the puzzle through the sentence. You feel foggy, your eyes feel heavy. You need more Sour Patch Kids, or a shot of espresso, or five Red Bulls. Max could swing it for you.

Oscar leans past you and swats at Lando’s shoulder, “She’s burning up, stupid.”

Lando’s laughter pauses, and he says seriously, “Oh shit.”

Suddenly, you’re being twisted around and you’re wincing at the contact on your shoulder that makes it ache even more. Lando puts a hand on your forehead and then immediately rips it away.

“Eugh. You’re sweaty.”

The back of Oscar’s hand replaces it. You twist away, brushing it off.

“You’ve got a fever,” he tells you, his voice thick with concern for you, “Have you told anyone? Does Toto know? Lewis?”

Instead of answering you press a hand over your eyes and crack your neck, trying to work through some of the stiffness in your back. You roll your shoulders and stand up as straight as possible, pushing through that aching, sickly feeling that runs through your whole body. When you finally drag your hand from your face— a thin sheen of sweat coming with it— Oscar is staring at you with a deep-set frown on his mouth. At his shoulder, Lando looks at you with a markedly less severe, but still concerned, expression.

“I’m fine, Oscar,” you insist.

You’re not. He knows you’re not. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want to seem weak. Not barely thirty minutes before the race. You can’t have either of them thinking you’d be easy for an overtake or that you’ll back out of a fight first. Off the track, fine— you’ve been vulnerable and honest with both of them at times. On the track is a different story. This is Formula One. You’re not here to make friends. They are not here to make friends.

“Mm,” Oscar hums, “Pretty sure you’re not.”

“You’re sweating bullets,” Lando adds, “Can see it from here.”

Something white-hot and pissed off flares up your spine. Oscar is not this kind of person, even on track; but the suspicion that he’s just trying to eliminate you as competition rises anyway. You think it because if the situation were flipped, you’d be weighing the pros and cons of having a sick driver on the track. Their weaknesses, what it means if they’re distracted. It doesn’t make you a good person, but you’re already pretty sure you aren’t one.

“I am fine,” you bite.

Oscar’s expression drops. Into something not quite offended… accepting, maybe? Resigned? It closes off to you, is what you mean. That’s fine, you’re trying to close yourself off to him. You’re re-drawing a line that you’ve been crossing without a thought for at least two years now. You’re not here to make googly eyes at Oscar and let him put his hand on your fever-ridden forehead and have him reprimand out-of-line, so-called professionals for you. You’re here to get in that car every Sunday and put your life on the line for a shiny trophy and fucking glory. Even if you’ve got a fever. Even if you’ve got a weird crush on Oscar Piastri.

“I’m racing,” you add in a different tone, feeling as if you’ve been a bit harsh on a well-meaning Oscar, even if you mean what you’re thinking.

Oscar nods, and says, “Okay,” in a way that really means, ‘If you say so, then it is’.

In the car, on the tarmac, sitting in your starting grid position, you’re shitting bricks.

Your cheeks are squeezed tight into your helmet, you can feel sweat, slick and soaking through your balaclava. Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, your ass hurts where it’s pressed into the seat. You’re not crying, but your mouth— hidden away by your helmet— is open like you’re about to. Set into a grimace that you breathe raggedly out of. Toto says something over the radio before the lights go out, you don’t hear it. You’re too busy regretting how earnestly you’d begged him to let you race. It would have been better if George had taken over. It might have been better if you’d passed out during the national anthem so you really had no choice but to sit it out. No one could say you weren’t committed to this sport if that had happened. They’d have plenty to say about women and their weak constitutions though.

You’re on autopilot when the lights go out. One second you’re freaking out like it’s your first time in a car, the next second everything is fading into background noise and you’re fighting a Ferrari and a McLaren for your original grid position. Twenty of you tear down the straight to turn two and you find yourself slotting easily into what you think is P4. Ferrari— not the same one— in front of you. Your mirrors reveal the McLaren behind you. It’s Oscar, you’re sure. You can tell by the way he sticks to your ass. Every nudge of the car you make he makes with you.

You press the radio button, “That Piastri behind?”

Crackle, “Yeah.”

“Knew it. He’s up my butt, Rach.”

“Okay. Go faster then. Not sure what to tell you.”

You make a face. You weren’t looking for sarky advice, you were trying to commiserate. You press the button and make a vaguely mocking neh-neh noise that gets a laugh and then radio silence because you’re supposed to be fucking concentrating. Which, okay, fair.

You press the throttle, done with trying to manage your tyres for the moment and taking Rachel’s comment as permission. You tear away from Oscar, stopping his fight to overtake you through the chicane in its tracks. You start slowly gaining on the Ferrari in front of you, its red rear wing growing closer and closer.

“Sainz in front?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Rachel confirms before rattling off some lap times when you ask for them.

By lap thirty-something, you’re on Sainz’s ass like Oscar was on yours. You’re fighting him through every chicane, threatening him on the straights and generally behaving in a way that you know for a fact is putting him on edge. But Carlos isn’t giving up P3 without a fight.

A safety car goes out around lap forty, and you pit. Everyone ahead of you does as well. Oscar doesn’t, Oscar is lucky to have gone in earlier. Rachel tells you he’d made up four places after being forced to box for some tyre issue. You feel a strange mix of pride and jealousy swirl in your chest as you all file into a discordant line behind the safety car.

Verstappen leads the pack, as per usual. Then Oscar, Sainz and you. Leclerc is behind you, then Lando. You’re in P4, right where you started and right where you’ve been fucking sitting the entire race so far. twenty-five laps to at least make it onto the podium. Then you’ll be happy. Or not quite happy, you’d need pole for that. Content. You’d be content.

Max starts weaving. The safety car goes off and Max keeps you all ready and waiting until the exact millisecond that he decides the race can properly begin again. You hate when he does this— you know that’s exactly why. Eventually, finally, he gets going.

You have to run defence like crazy for a few laps to keep Leclerc behind you until everything is warmed up. The gap widens as you drive. At some point, you stop worrying about the Monégasque so much and focus your attention on car fifty-five like your life depends on it. The laps fly by as time ticks on. Twenty-five to go, twenty, fifteen, ten. You’re back on Sainz’s rear wheel, a gap of 0.2 to 0.3 that’s been consistent throughout this last stretch of the race. You’re watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up to take advantage of. Somewhere you can push, somewhere he’s weak. It’s hard— he’s covering all his bases. Not giving you an inch so you can’t take a mile.

You’re closing in on sixty-four laps— with only three to go— when he gives you that fucking inch. It’s in the first chicane. His wheel locks up, and he jerks the car slightly the wrong way, something like that. You get in his space and you push and he backs out first. You press down on the throttle and rocket past him, shouting FUCK! FUCK YES! to yourself.

P3. P3. God, you hope it’s P3.

You press the talk button, “Rach?”

“Yes, P3,” she barks, “Fucking, focus. Three laps to go.”

Those last three laps of Imola are some of the hardest of your life. Defending against Carlos is a task, of course, but it’s not even that. The sickness starts to creep back into your awareness as the adrenaline that had hit its peak during the overtake starts to subside. Two laps to go and you’re remembering the fever again. The sweat soaking your hair and streaking down the back of your neck. Your whole body is on fire and it aches everywhere. It feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to the inside of your skull. You want so badly to close your eyes and drift away to sleep, but the car is flying through the air demanding your attention with the way it thuds against the track. You’ve got one lap to go and Carlos is on you like white on rice. You can’t afford to make a mistake until you’re firmly over that finish line.

So you don’t. You grit your teeth and you refuse.

Carlos is downright reckless in the last chicane, he tries to bait you by moving to one side and pushing but you’re not going to fall for something like that even if you’re near delirious from the 39.4-degree fever. Though surely it’s higher now, the car temp can’t be helping. You hardly realise you’ve crossed the finish line because you’re thinking so hard about how lightheaded you feel. On instinct, you slow down to a safe speed as Oscar’s McLaren enters your vision, but you think your toes have pins and needles and there’s some feeling tingling up into your shoulders. You blink hard and take a long sip of water so you can make it to the pits before your head starts to spin.

Crackle, “Where are you going? That was P3.”

“Huh?” you realise you’re following the other drivers instead of heading into the pits where you’re supposed to go, “Shit. Sorry.”

You edge back as carefully as you can, avoiding other cars that pass by, lucky you’ve not overshot too far so you can turn into the pits and park your car in front of the P3 sign without going around the entire track. That would be embarrassing. Or that would be more embarrassing than how disgusting you’re going to look when you take your helmet and balaclava off.

Toto, Rachel and a few of your engineers are there to meet you at the barricade when you clamber out of the car, unsteady on your feet. Rachel’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries her best to smile at you, trying to put on a brave face even though you can tell she’s concerned you’re going to keel over. You brace yourself with a hand against the gate and tear your helmet off, then your balaclava. You’ve never been so fast to put a cap on your head, trying to cover the sweaty mess that is your hair right now.

“That was phenomenal work,” Rachel says, reaching to put a hand on your burning hot bicep, “You look fucking terrible, though.”

You suck in a ragged breath and you nod in agreement, trying to keep the black tinging your vision from taking over completely. 

“Get her something to drink,” you hear Toto bark, though it comes to your ears, muffled and staticky.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Until you’re not and your sweaty hand is slipping against the guardrail and your vision is fading into darkness and you’re falling face first into a metal railing. And, and, someone’s got their arm around your middle and you’re not on the ground with your face in the asphalt. You blink, hot tears— from what you assume is exhaustion— burning your eyelids. The arm around your middle is covered in something orange and black… Oscar. It’s Oscar who’s got you propped up, held firm into his body so your legs don’t collapse underneath you. The two of you sway and stumble for a second as you gain your footing back, your vision returning to normal, the buzzing in your ears going away.

“You’re good,” he breathes, “I’ve got you.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine, you attribute it to your current state.

You remember the cameras that are on all of you right now. You try not to look panicked as you step away from him. You try to do it calmly and not frantically like you so want to. Toto has some electrolyte drink held out right in your face and you take it, chugging half of it straight away while you swivel around to face Oscar. You nod, feeling slightly better, but gripping the guardrail tight so as not to repeat earlier.

“Thanks,” you try a smile, but it’s just turning into a grimace because you feel like shit.

Oscar shakes his head, “Don’t mention it.”

“Great driving out there.”

His eyebrow goes up, touching the curl of his hair that peeks out from his cap.

“You’re kidding?” he says, tone laced with amusement.

You frown, which is much easier, “No. You drove great.”

He makes a face like ‘yes, obviously’, but somehow does it in a humble and endearing way that you find you like a little too much. It leaves you confused as to his point.

“No,” he scoffs, “Okay, yes. What I mean is that you just got P3 with a raging fever.”

You purse your lips, countering, “You don’t know I have a fever.”

His tongue darts out to wet his top lip, hiding the small smile that threatens on his face.

He shrugs, “Bit obvious, unfortunately.”

You roll your eyes. You think what he means is it’s a bit obvious because you look like absolute death. There’s probably sweat rolling off you in buckets, your cap is jammed on your head and your hair is probably sticking out at crazy angles. There were dark circles under your eyes before you left for the track this morning, they’re probably ten times worse now. He might also mean it’s obvious from the way your skin is burning hot, like touching a radiator in the middle of winter. Or, perhaps, the way you’d passed out into his arms a few minutes earlier.

You suck your teeth, “Well. I told you I was racing today.”

Oscar nods, biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah. You did.”

There’s more that neither of you are saying. A conversation that you’re trying desperately to have with prolonged eye contact, small little smiles and breaths out through the nose. You think it might be ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘You’re very impressive and I’m going a little bit crazy about it’. That’s how you feel at least, somewhere in between the fever chills and the urge you’re suppressing to curl into a ball on the tarmac. This is okay, you think. You don’t have to be Oscar’s sworn enemy just because you’re both chasing the win. You can let him worry about you, but make sure he understands he can’t stop you from taking the things that you want. You can say things that mean other things and Oscar can smile at you like it’s something private for just the two of you.

You can be happy with that. Or not quite happy. Content.

🏎️ song inspo (fiona apple my Beloved) -> https://open.spotify.com/track/5h9Iek7Hp9wayRt7fBp7Ab?si=9PnuH5CDSC-qTurLPGiTwg

💫 fill out this form if you want to be added to my tag list: @clowngirlsstuff @leclercsluvs @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @papayamusha @mvk1ma

[baby-yongbok]

A Feeling

Boyfriend!Bang Chan × Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst with a pinch of sugar at the end

Summary: There's a feeling in your chest that you can't seem to shake.

Warnings: Mentions of betrayal, Themes of cheating, Drinking, Broken Glass, Name calling. (I think this is it, let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: Happy Birthday Dear Chrisssss, Happy Birthday to you! + I've been having some issues with writing due to my health so I hope that this piece is good lol I got approval from my best friend and I trust her so here you go! This is one of the many posts that I'll be making for Our Leaders birthday so be on the look out!

✨Masterlist✨

The sting of bourbon flooded your throat as you threw back yet another shot. What was supposed to be a date night with Chris turned into you ordering a meal for one and him staying late at the company to fix a sudden studio mistake.

It wasn't the fact that your date night got canceled that bothered you, it was something else. It was a feeling that lingered in your chest. A feeling that something was wrong. You couldn't quite put your finger on it and the more you wondered the closer you got to finishing half a bottle of bourbon by yourself.  At this point you might as well wait for Chris to get home. It's about three in the morning now so he should be home any -

"Baby?" Your boyfriend's voice startled you out of your deep thoughts. "What are you still doing up?" 

"I kinda got… stuck. And then I got the bourbon out and ended up a little drunk.. so put the two together and you get this." Motioning towards yourself hunched over in the barstool you sigh.  "I couldn't shake this feeling..." 

"Are you sober enough to talk about it?" Stalking towards you slowly, Chris takes the empty seat next to yours.  

"Maybe it's best if I'm not sober for this? Maybe it'll make it easier to ask you and depending on the answer I wouldn't mind having it be harder to remember."

Confusion consumes his features as he leans forward, crossing both of his arms on the kitchen island "What could possibly be bothering you this much, babygirl?"

"I feel like.. there's something you have to tell me. I feel like today, something happened and you need to tell me but you aren't sure about it." Chris perks up a bit as you explain yourself to him. "If my feelings are correct then I need you to tell me what it is right now. Cause I can't sleep with this in my chest."

Running his hand over his face he covers his mouth for a second as he takes in all that you've said.

"Chris?" He looks up at you, directly into your eyes. "What is it?"

With a heavy sigh Chris squeezes his eyes shut as he prepares to speak. "Your friend… you know how you asked me to get Michelle a job at the company?" You shake your head as you follow his story. " Well ever since she started working there she's been.. suspiciously enthusiastic to see me. I thought that maybe she was just grateful that I got her the job and decided not to read too much into it"

Sighing, Chris runs both of his hands over his face and then looks down at the marble of the island. "Today, she went with us to assist with the Hilfiger shoot, she was just there to help make sure that it all went smoothly. Everything seemed perfectly normal until we were in the vans on our way home. I sat in the back and she made it her mission to sit next to me even though she was supposed to be in the other van. She was quiet for a bit, just listening to me Han and Felix talk until she suddenly tapped me and started talking about fate. She said that she's been waiting for an opportunity to get closer to me and this job has given her that." 

He pauses as he takes a second to read your body language. You couldn't hide how tense you are even if you wanted to. Your first instinct was to explode before he could even finish his story. You wanted to call him a liar for saying that Michelle, your best friend since preschool, would say such a thing to him but sadly you knew he wasn't lying. After being with him for three years you've learned how to tell when he’s hiding something from you. 

"I told her that I didn't understand. I told her that she knows I'm with you and I'm happy in this relationship. I told her that I only got her the job because you asked me to. She proceeded to talk about how much she... how much she liked me and then she told me that watching me during the shoot turned her on... then she, she uh.. she kissed me." 

You urgently sat up in your seat as you imagined just what he said. There's no way that Michelle would do that to you… right?  "And I pushed her away immediately, as soon as I processed the feeling I panicked and Han saw it all."

Quietly, you start to piece together everything that Chris just put out in the open. There’s no way that Michelle would never betray you like that. The two of you are partners in crime, you love each other, you respect each other.  

"Michelle -" You pause, your buzzing thoughts making it more difficult to complete your sentence..  "She wouldn’t -" 

You attempt to process the information over and over, the fuzziness that the bourbon’s caused making it a bit hard to piece it all together clearly but you know that it's true. It’s obvious that Chris isn't lying. He scratches the back of his neck when he's lying and on top of that, he has no reason to tell a lie about Michelle.

 "That fucking skank" Your glass shatters on the kitchen floor as a storm of anger closes in on your senses. You stumble to your feet and go straight for your cell on the kitchen counter.  

"Y/n" Chris swiftly stalks after you, grabbing your waist from behind. 

"Fucking let go of me." You fight his hold but all it does is make him hold onto you tighter. 

"You're drunk, if you're going to call her, do it tomorrow." You continue to fight him, the rage you felt was only enhanced by the bourbon and you knew that, yet you couldn't find it in you to calm the storm in your chest

"How could she do this shit?" 

"Baby, please calm down." He drags you down to the kitchen floor and pulls you into his lap. To you, it felt like you were still fighting but you were still now, being cradled by Chris as you sobbed into his chest. The transition was unbeknownst to you, it was so sudden.  

"How could she do that to me? She knows…" Chris shushes you as he strokes your hair. His thumb softly rubbing soothing circles into the exposed skin of your thigh. 

"She knows you're mine." 

"I'm sorry, I was never going to keep this from you. I just didn't know.. I didn't know how to tell you. I was going to give it till the morning." 

"Did you like it.."

"What?" Looking down at you with furrowed brows Chris’ grip on you loosens just for it to tighten again.  "No, no I didn't. I pushed her away. I immediately felt… dirty and scared.. scared that she'd cost me your trust, scared that you'd freak out so badly that you'd hate me for even saying anything. I hated every second of it and I hate every second of this feeling that it left me with. I love you, Y/n. I've never wanted anything with anyone else and that includes Michelle."

Silence envelopes the two of you as he holds you and you him.  The situation at hand was looming slowly around the two of you. You're almost positive that Chris will call Han in the morning to confirm everything that he told you. And you'll call Michelle and ask her why the fuck she thought this was okay.  

"We should get you some water then into bed, it’s late" Slowly you nod your head to agree with him but before you can stand Chris scoops you up in his arms bridal style and stands. " I don't want you hurting yourself on the glass." 

You look down at the shattered shot glass on the kitchen floor then back up at Chris. He’s watching you with soft eyes, a weak smile pulling at his lips. A surge of desire washes over you and you can't help what happens next. Grabbing his face with both of your hands you kiss him hard and passionate. He kisses you back with the same hunger allowing your energies to mix in a delicious and raw display of passion. As his lips tangle with yours he takes a couple steps back, away from the mess on the kitchen floor. You can hear the crack beneath his shoe as he steps on a piece of stray glass. 

You comb your fingers through his hair, grabbing some of it and pull slightly at the roots. A moan slips from his lips and it drives you over the edge.  

"Please." You both are panting as you pull away and plead for him. " Please, I need you."

"You're drunk." He looks down at you with sad yet lust flooded eyes.  You can tell it's killing him to deny you of your desire. "Trust me, I want to but you're wasted and not even two minutes ago you were angry and crying...Right now you only want me to prove that she can’t, ask me again tomorrow and I won't hesitate" 

"Okay." The Silence comes back to hug you both as he carries you into your shared bedroom and sits you onto the bed.  

"I'm gonna get you some water and clean up that glass. You should shower and change into something for bed." He kisses you on your cheek and you watch him as he walks away. His black t-shirt and joggers fit him beautifully and you couldn't help but resent him for it just a bit. You don’t move, your thoughts are running too wild for you to think about doing anything else besides calling Michelle and yelling every profanity that you can think of at her. You almost don’t notice Chris come back into the room with a bottle of water in hand and confusion written on his features.

“Are you going to shower?” You look up at him with your glazed eyes, searching his features for the right answer but it’s no use. 

“I don’t know.” You whisper and Chris takes a step towards you, Standing in front of you and gently guiding your head to rest on his stomach. You sigh at the contact, taking in his gentle touch.

“Maybe we’ll just call it a night? Shower in the morning.” You nod your head lazily as a tear runs down your cheek and soaks into the cotton of his shirt.

“You’re mine, right?” He pulls back from you a bit to see your face. He cups your cheeks in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. 

“All yours, only yours.” His eyes stay on yours, a soft and loving gaze that you know holds nothing but the truth. You shake your head slightly, grinning a bit. 

“You promise?” He returns your grin before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“I promise.”

[holybibly]

Hongjoong playing rough and losing control with biting and scratching is so mf HOT ‼️‼️‼️‼️ His bunny sinking her nails into his hair and tugging his face to her pussy after he threatened to bite her, then he realises she actually WANTS it.. wants him to bite her weeping pussy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 his dick would actually genuinely hurt the way it hardened even MORE, maybe his knot would swell up so much more this time round too.

And his eyes rolling back into his head when he sinks his teeth onto the sweet mound oof...

All right, I'm definitely in the mood for a bit of rough and tumble today. Sorry to keep you waiting bunny 💓

Hongjoong is a lover of the hunt, perhaps a little too much for your tastes. But what could make a bunny sweeter than sugar then a good primal game? Absolutely nothing, especially with the approach of the full moon. As a result, it has become a tradition for you to venture into the forest at night, when the moon is at its brightest and the excitement is palpable. Your whole body was usually wrapped in Seonghwa's luxurious furs, which made moving around uncomfortable and slow. However, being in this wolf clan's house, you had little choice but to comply with your mommy's wishes.  It was natural for wolves to have a desire for wild hunting and a sense of chase. God, they go mad thinking about cornering you and sinking their teeth into your delicious, fertile body. You were an irresistible temptation; they simply couldn't resist you.  It was your third full moon, and once again, you found yourself exactly where you were meant to be at this time of the month. In reality, you are in no danger at all; it's just a game you're playing with them. The game starts when you're instructed to run and hide deep in the forest. You're given thirty minutes to find a spot, and then one of the wolves must find you, their sweet little prey, and ravage you. He will consume your body as his reward, knot you up, and fuck you madly.  Today was Hongjoong's turn to be your hunter through the forest, and he was determined to catch you. With the full moon bringing out his darkest carnal instincts, he relished the challenge of pursuing you. You cried out, whimpered, and squealed in his arms as he caught you, but he was relentless. You cried out, whimpered, and squealed in his arms as he caught you, but he was relentless. Your little cotton tail twitched with pleasure as you both succumbed to your primal desires. Today, he was bursting with excitement because of the tantalisingly fertile scent that you emitted, as if you were begging to be bred and filled. Hongjoong ran through the trees, following the trace of your fragrance—a mixture of peaches and cream, along with the heavy, intoxicating aroma of bitter almond and black cherry—Seonghwa. It didn't take him long to find you. Soon, his hot, hoarse breath will be tickling your neck, and your whole body will be frozen in an instant with fear and lust. As always, it has an effect on you! You obediently throw your head to the side and allow Hongjoong's long tongue to lick the bite marks on your own body. The skin there is still raw and inflamed, despite the fact that several months have passed since then. But Hongjoong sucks and bites at the area like a man possessed as soon as you fall into his hands. "I found you, my little bunny." The sound of his sombre laughter is a shudder through your body. "D-daddy…" "You played amazingly well for daddy, my little angel." Alpha purred, his fingers greedily tracing along your sides. He then firmly grasped your flesh, eliciting a gasp of both fear and pleasure from you. You couldn't help but notice viscous moisture beginning to collect between the folds of your pussy.

Hongjoong takes his time to fucking you, prolonging his anticipation, becoming more aggressive and greedy, all to make you the perfect meal for his feast.

First he has to taste you.

The air around you is cold, but your body is burning under his touch, under the luxurious fur soaked with intoxicating with sweet alpha pheromones. Your head begins to spin with the knowledge of what is about to happen as Hongjoong pushes you against the tree. Seonghwa and Yeosang went different ways before they fucked you to within an inch of your life. But you know exactly where Hongjoong will start. First he will bite and scratch you until you bleed and bruise, then he will greedily devour your pussy, slobbering and licking every available spot, and only then he will tie you up with his knot and keep you on his dick all night until dawn. Until Seonghwa takes you to the mandatory morning bath, and even then you can't be sure that Hongjoong will let you go.

"Oh my God, Alpha!" You let out a loud squeal as Hongjoong slides down your body, leaving angry, swollen lines from his sharp claws in his wake. His fingers immediately dig into your hips to hold you in place as he kneels in front of you, aggressively opening the sides of your gorgeous fur coat. He will probably hurt your thighs with the force he exerts, though there is no need; one look from those wolfish, hungry eyes was enough to make you not want to run away from him.

He looks depraved and wild, like a true predator: swollen red lips curled into a devilish grin, feverishly glittering eyes reflecting the moon and the lust hidden deep within, his silky hair dishevelled, and you can see his whole body trembling slightly with excess energy.

"I'm so hungry for you, bunny." Hongjoong growls in a deep, dangerous voice. He is more wolf than man now, but you, you like it in a strange way. And it cannot stop the wave of lust in your body, despite the natural fear of the predator whose sharp teeth are only a millimetre away from your neck. Bunnies are horrible whores.

You squirm in his grip as you feel his hot, ragged breath on your clit.

"I beg you, Alpha. I'm so ready for you…"

The Alpha rests his face between your legs, inhaling noisily your smel, his snow-white tail whipping behind his back like a whip. 

As soon as his mouth touches your cunt, honey slime begins to flow from your hole, and Hongjun moans. His tongue pushes the soft, wet folds of your pussy with brutal, animal insistence; he licks you shamelessly, noisily sucking all your juices as if he can't get enough of them, and you wriggle in his clawed hands. The sharp tips of his fangs lightly scratch your sensitive labia. And God, it does something to you. How can you explain it? You felt needy and hungry for something unexplored—a sensation unlike anything you've ever felt before, much stronger than you could have imagined.

"Don't fucking move, pet." Honjun growled, and the vibration of his voice sent a new wave of slime rushing out of you. "Or do you want me to bite this lecherous little cunt?" His teeth lightly bit down on your tender mound. 

You squeal into his arms, your fur slipping off your shoulders and your nipples instantly hardening as the cold night air licks at your naked breasts. 

This is it; this is exactly what you want. You want him to bite you. Bite you on your slutty little pussy. 

The realisation of this was a source of even greater despair for you. This would hurt. But you were in need of that pain anyway. He sucks the tender folds of your pussy hard into his devilishly beautiful mouth, and a loud moan escapes from your lips. Your hips unconsciously start to rub against Hongjoong's face. 

"Please … please, daddy bite me. Bite my pussy." That's what suddenly bursts out of you. Your little hands get tangled up in the silky strands of the Alpha's hair, and you dig your nails lightly into the skin of his head, which only makes him get more excited. 

The moment that Hongjoong hears your desperate plea, his mouth opens wide to reveal sharp fangs, which a second later are closing in on your tender flesh. 

The cry of your pleasure is so loud and so deafening that you could swear that all the wolves in the house would be able to hear it very clearly. Your eyes are wide open, and hot tears are streaming down your face, like the tears of the moon itself that shine in this night.  Honjun growls, his claws digging deeper and deeper into your thighs, and warm liquid begins to seep out from beneath them. He has made you bleed. The Alpha lifts his eyes to you, and for you, it's impossible to look away from his eyes as Honjun stares at you through his long lashes. His eyes, shimmering with scarlet—not a mesmerising ruby like Songhwa's eyes, but dark and bloody—seemed to penetrate your very soul. They made you flinch and squeal involuntarily. 

He pulled his mouth away from your сunt, only to lick greedily at the blood that ran down your thighs, his face smeared with your juices and the scarlet liquid that looked almost black in the moonlight.

"I've always known that behind that sweet, angelic facade, there was a real bitch in there. What are we going to do with you now, Fluffy?" Alpha bites you lightly on the thigh, and you throw your head back in a strange, painful pleasure, your eyes rolling back into the back of your head. It's all so horrible, so vicious. But you… you love it. Where is the sweet little bunny that you used to be just a few short months ago?

"I think daddy just has to punish you well. Don't you? Because I don't like bad girls, bunny, and you've behaved so badly."

[thoughtswithbbg]

Chapter 1

 “Have a nice day!” You sighed as the last costumer left before you went to the door and flipped the sign to ‘Sorry! We’re Closed!’. You were so tired and done after the long day you had, it was filled of Karen’s, and weird old men trying to flirt with you. 

     You headed to the back room, taking off the apron with your name on it and went to cleaning up the store. There wasn’t much to do, you didn’t have any overly extreme customers today. As you were cleaning, you grabbed a few things to make a good meal for dinner. You left some money on the counter and began to make your way home.

     You had to stop at your favorite book store though, the new chapter of the Jujutsu Kaisen manga was out! You were so excited to see where the story would go, even though you’ve cried for hours in your room because of Nanami, and all the other characters. You wish you could change the plot, but you can’t. Maybe this next chapter won’t be as angsty as the last one. 

     You also looked at some of the romance books, you’ve read all the ones on your TBR so you’re looking for a new romantic read, you always want to escape reality and have an excuse to not actually go out and experience the romance yourself. You picked up a couple new romance books and the new Jujutsu Kaisen manga before you left the store, you can’t afford too many new books. ‘ I seriously need a a sugar daddy…’ You thought to yourself. 

    You opened the door to your apartment, your fluffy orange cat coming to greet you. “Hi Butternut baby, i’ll feed you, just let me sit everything down.” You went to your room and sat the books on your bed and you put your dinner on the kitchen counter. You poured Butternut some food and went to make your own dinner. 

    The doorbell suddenly rang and you glanced at your door in question. You haven’t ordered anything recently, nothing that should be arriving this soon anyways. You walked to your door and opened it, seeing no one there but a small package that you didn’t recognize. You brought it inside and sat it down on the table, you could open it after some well deserved dinner. 

    Your food smelled so good, even if it was something simple, Mac and cheese was always delicious, especially when it’s homemade. You ate at your dining table, looking at the box that arrived at your door. You had absolutely no clue what it was but you really were curious. But you’d wait till after dinner to open it, you’ll even grab your baseball bat just in case.

    You were almost done washing the dishes when a thud in your dining room where the box was. You rushed in there and stared at the box as it shifted around the table. ‘what the fuck is in there?’ You carefully grabbed your box opener and walked over to the box, slicing it open. You backed away from the box and prepared yourself for whatever will pop out of it.

   “Finally!” A voice came from the box as little hands lifted themselves out of the box and you could not believe your eyes. ‘WHY IS THERE A MINI GOJO SATORU IN MY DINING ROOM?!’ You screamed at the tiny anime character and he screamed back. You had no clue how this  tiny character got to you but it scared the ever living shit outa you.

   “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” You pointed at the tiny guy, he was no bigger than a baby bunny, which was kinda funny cause he was the strongest sorcerer in his world and now he’s teeny tiny.

    “I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME QUESTION!” Gojo couldn’t even believe his eyes, you were huge! It was impossible to be that big if you were human, so you had to be a curse. Unless…he shrunk in size? He looked down at his body and realized that he had, indeed, shrunk. He was dressed in the same outfit he wore when he was fighting Sukuna. His blue eyes were still just as bright as they would be if he was his normal size. You were wondering how in the hell Gojo MF Satoru was on your kitchen table. Last you checked, you hadn’t consumed any edibles in the last 24 hours (that’s a personal record), so how is one of your favorite anime characters in your world? 

    Gojo on the other hand, was wondering why he was so small. Last he remembered, he was fixing to fight Sukuna in his full form, but now he was in your kitchen. You looked kinda stupid, he thought, your mouth was hanging wide open like you couldn’t believe he was real. And you couldn’t. 

    You turned away from him and took a couple of deep breaths before calming down and facing him. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?” You screamed at him, which he ignored you and kept looking into the plastic bag where your brand new Jujutsu Kaisen manga was sitting in. You couldn’t stop him from looking at it as he dipped through the pages, only looking at the photos until he stopped on a page. You knew which page it was by his reaction. It was him on the page and he looked lifeless, probably because he was dead. You flinched as he turned around and glared at you like he did Jogo and Hanami in that one episode in the series.

   “What the fuck is this?”

    You had spent most of your evening explaining to Gojo MF Satoru that he was in another world, where his world was just a manga series turned ‘anime’ for a bunch of humans entertainment. You could practically feel the tiny version of him becoming more and more angry. You just hoped he wouldn’t Purple Hallow your house. Gojo couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his suffering, his students suffering, Sugurus suffering, was all for entertainment? He really was about to Purple Hallow your house in a rage, but decided that he shouldn’t. You seemed guilty enough already, you didn’t want to break the news to him but you had to after he read the manga. “I’m sorry, um, Gojo…” 

    Your apology meant almost nothing to him, but he could tell you meant it, so he just nodded his head. “I just, I didn’t think this would ever happen…” His thoughts immediately went to the battle with Sukuna that he was now not apart of. He wanted to believe that his students and friends would be able to beat Sukuna but he found it highly unlikely. Though, there wasn’t much he could do to get back into his world. He looked up at the women in front of him, she was still trying to figure out if he was real, which was understandable considering her circumstances. “Well, I guess i’m stuck here then.” He shrugged and sat down at the table, he wasn’t fully relaxed but things were out of his control.

    “so, is this world basically the same as ours? Just no curses?” He figured he might as well as you questions about your world instead. “Does that mean you have sweets?” You nodded and tossed him a bag of your (f/c) that you picked up at the convenience store. His tiny hands opened the bad and he took out one candy before he took a tiny bite. You had to admit, a tiny Gojo Satoru eating (f/c) was adorable. You wondered if he would ever go back to his full size though, which if he did, you might actually be the luckiest woman on the planet. 

   “So,” He looked up at you, having a lot of questions still on his mind but he decided he would ask later. “What’s your name? I figured that’s the most important question to ask even though I have so many more.” This whole situation was weird as hell, but hey, it’s the nothing the great Gojo Satoru can’t handle. He is the strongest, after all. Maybe not in this world though. 

    “It’s (y/n). Nice to meet you, Gojo Satoru..” You gave him a smile, and he smiled back. This situation may suck, and he might never be able to go back to his world, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, right? You were nice enough to let him stay with you, even though you knew possibly everything about him and his past and probably his future. But you didn’t care, you knew all of the horrible shit he’s done and didn’t care. Maybe this was his reward for suffering so much in his past. 

   Like this was his new safe haven..

   Like it was his new home..

[pumpkinsy0]

Adding onto your curly and pony holiday hcs, I personally hc that pony would have a really hard time around the holidays without his parents so do you possibly have any hcs for how curly might help pony feel better about celebrating and helping him get through the holidays? Fun idea I had about this could also be darry and soda kinda chilling out about curly being around during the holidays because they see how much he's helping pony

ponyboy w seasonal depression??? awe yea i can work w this,,,

domestic papercut will be here as well they need to take a break sometimes and just chill

•pony tends to kinda distance himself without rlly knowing, its not that he doesnt want to hang out its just he feels bad when he does, bc he feels like something is missing

•and thats when curlys jolly ass steps in, hes like santa clause for pony but if santa was a broke black teenage kid w way too much time on his hands

•curlys favorite holiday is actually christmas i can feel it, right up there w halloween, so to have ponyboy sad on this fine holiday??? something MUST be done

•curly showed pony his ugly ass fucking christmas sweater he was wearing to make pony happy

•he did sneak through a window, BUT he did brink over some akasan (this cornmeal drink in haiti u can drink it warm it taste great i promise) AND it was somehow still warm, he knows how pony like warm drinks brah

•he also brought over pain mais (its like cornbread but made w banana, sugar, vanilla, milk, yada yada), pony liked it this one time and tim made some earlier so he brought some over

•they had a lil snack sesh, which pony needed SO bad bc he wouldnt eat a good chunk of the food tim was making before

•he actually also bought pony his own ugly christmas sweater but pony was NOT wearing that bs (he’s def wearing it later)

•after that happened, curly wanted to go out and just fuck around in the snow but pony wouldnt budge so curly went outside and was playing around in the snow (by playing around i mean throwing snow at literally any innocent passerby and at ponys window) to make pony laugh, also threw some at ponys window

•pony DID come outside, WHAT a happy day, and he jsut, laid in the snow, making snow angels

•curly just plopped down into the snow w him and curly just let pony talk about whatever he wanted, he looked like he needed it

• pony felt bad for even telling curly that he just felt down but curly said “shared happiness is double the happiness, shared sadness is half the sadness, or whatever that one nigga from ur book said idfk” curly ezekiel shepard everyone, our king

•while they were talking, darry and soda came home and saw them on the lawn and for the first time, they didnt say anything and just let them be bc pony was smiling for the first time in a while and thats all they wanted so papercut lives to see another day,,,for now,,,

•and yknow what???pony DID feel less upset today!! however he did feel like every singular one of his limbs were about to fall off bc they were so numb so they had to go inside

•they walked in, were surprised to see darry and sodabc they dudnt even know they came home and maybe it was that holiday spirit consuming them, but they made hot cocoa for everyone!! including curly!! what a happy day

[tako-cafe]

Azul ED HCs

Idia's post for part 1

As the title says this is dealing with eating disorders so read at your own risk. This is also my own interpretation of the game content. You could and might read these lines in a different light, but this is how I see him.

Start with what I think he has: Anorexia. Through the events, card and homescreen voice lines, and main story it is clear he limits his calories and types of food he consumes. He has a unnamed calorie limit, exercises a certain amount daily, and does so for the sake of keeping in a certain weight he deems correct based around childhood bullying around his weight. Key reasons other than his obsession with his figure and weight are his calorie tracking to remain within a strict limit to a point of not eating even if hungry, A focus on healthy eating to a point he skips joining school events fully like halloween parties,and a limited diet ie he cut out his favorite foods deeming them unhealthy (his being listed as fried chicken). This post will go through and showcase everything I could find to back this up from game. note-will only add enough for context, look up or read game content for full stories, and of course spoilers if you haven't read these yet.

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Jade mentioning Azul used to be an eater, Azul trying to hide why he isn't eating

Event: Terror is Trending

 Azul-get heartburn just watching Ruggie eat. Jade-Oh? I believe you could put him to shame if you felt so inclined Azul-Not another word. Jamil-For as little as you're eating, you've been going around eyeing everything. Is there a scheme in the works I should know about? Azul-Can't an honest businessman scope out the catering without being painted as some kind of villain? Jamil-You can't even relax on Halloween, huh?

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Floyd noticing his lack of eating

Azul's Dorm card-

Jade- Ugh, what a waste. And the carpaccio we had that day was so delicious, too. In any case, I imagine that growing up in a restaurant allowed him to try many different foods and keenly develop his sense of taste. He is a true gourmet.

Floyd-Then he should eat more. He only ever picks at his food these days.

example of his calorie limit being mentioned

Floyd-Hey, I'm thirsty. Can I have one of those drinks? We're up to our dorsal fins in the stuff.

Jade-A splendid idea. We should toast to Azul's success.

Azul-I've already hit my nutritional threshold for today, so I will pass.

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Birthday Boy-

Remembering eating as a slight negative memory

..They'd tell me,"Eat some of this,eat some of that!" In Hindsight, I wish I had complained about how excessive it all was...

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Home screen Lines-

school uniform- I wish they'd label how many calories are in each dish in the cafeteria. It makes keeping count so difficult.

outdoor wear- You think I've eaten too much? Oh, no, there should be no qualms with that today, since I've burned more calories than usual.

Ceremonial robes- Maybe I should tighten my belt a little...I prefer having a tight figure.

Halloween- I'll hold back on the treats, thank you. Accepting more and more of them will only increase my calorie intake for the day.

Birthday boy- heheh For my birthday, I decided that I will eat as I please without worrying about the calories.

You brought me food again? ...Is that your way of saying I look like I eat a lot?

Tsum- This Tsum...its roundness and plushness may be cute, but it gives me mixed feelings whenever I look at it.

GloMas- The aromas of butter and sugar permeates the air...The City of Flowers is overflowing with temptation. I must be more strict with myself than usual.

Homescreen lines have a mix talk about calorie counting, restriction, and body image talk in them.

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While I didn't go and collect the lines as screenshots like the Idia post this HC was more straightforward and went over a more well known disorder than his did. Everything listed above is what I remember being in game and are examples why I think he has Anorexia.

[newvegascowboy]

Proposal based on your food post and some things in Fallout.

:readmore:

Homemade sodas and sweet drinks are incredibly common based on home recipes passed down through the generations.

In Fallout new Vegas, and in Fallout 4 you can make drinks such as Nuka-Cola.

Filtering water and making it drinkable will be a big priority wherever you go. But making it palatable will also be a big goal.

Local settlements will probably mix sweeteners like syrup, juices, or even honey to mix it in the water.

Tea will be very popular too with all kinds of local teas made from local plants, sweetened with local sweeteners, and traded or even sold to each other.

Tea has the advantage of being boiled, filtered, and flavored making it a popular drink with massive variants between region to region and even settlement to settlement.

Brahmin milk will have a lot of nutrients and apparently good for treating radiation so odds are its also used as a medicine and a big part of a lot of diets.

Some rare drinks may still be possible but take a lot of work such as coffee, and ice cream.

Coffee needs specific growth and a lot of space to grow. So maybe it'll grow in small quantities.

There's ways to make ice cream without machines but it takes a lot of salt, ice, and milk. So you'd have to be very wealthy or very well located to have it

Shaved ice with simple syrups and fruits may make good treats in areas where there's a lot of ice

I fully agree with all of this! Not including it was probably a bit of an oversight on my part, but this is exactly the kind of extrapolation and worldbuilding I was aiming for.

Soda was invented in the mid 1800s, so I don't think it's beyond the realm of possibility for people to have reinvented soft drinks. Originally, the water was taken from springs that were naturally carbonated and today, we can do it at home with compressed CO2. Even if the drinks aren't carbonated, I totally believe and agree with the idea that they're making sweet drinks.

I was going to mention in the original post and forgot, but lemons? Those things totally still exist. Citrus is too much of a botanical freak not to have survived. It might not be lemons (or limes, or oranges) as we know them, but they are OUT THERE and that means lemonade is real.

Tea is canon within the realm of fallout because you can brew several different varieties in 76. Also, hot drinks are comforting, especially in the winter and I think it's totally reasonable to think that new brews have popped up with the addition Coffee grows in Mexico at a similar latitude to Florida and parts of the southern united states, so I think you could claim that certain strains have been cultivated and grown in those areas, though it might be rare and extremely expensive.

Ice cream's origins are known to reach back as far as the second century B.C., although no specific date of origin nor inventor has been undisputably credited with its discovery. We know that Alexander the Great enjoyed snow and ice flavored with honey and nectar. Biblical references also show that King Solomon was fond of iced drinks during harvesting. During the Roman Empire, Nero Claudius Caesar (A.D. 54-86) frequently sent runners into the mountains for snow, which was then flavored with fruits and juices.

Ice cream is one HUNDRED percent a thing in the wasteland. The milk and cream is easy to source from Brahmin milk. Cane sugar can be grown in Florida and Louisiana, so it's not unreasonable to think that that's another rare and expensive import. It would be easier and cheaper to get your sugar from tree sap or malt grain or reduced fruits, but cane sugar is out there. Making ice cream is a pretty popular thing for kids to do -- put some rock salt and ice in a bag with cream, sugar, and vanilla, and shake it until it freezes. On the coast, salt is probably pretty abundant, even if it's time consuming to harvest, but vanilla is probably one spice that nobody has access to in the wasteland.

Ice houses and cold cellars are probably pretty common in the wasteland, so ice could be available all year round. Plus, refrigeration is useful in the process of preserving foods rather than canning or bottling.

I think it's important to keep in mind that people are smart, and just because the bombs dropped, we didn't revert back to the stone age. The knowledge of canning, bottling, making jams and preserves, cold storage, curing meat, making cheese -- all that knowledge is old. Just because modern technology makes it easier doesn't mean people couldn't do it two hundred years ago. If the knowledge is lost, logic and human ingenuity will rediscover it eventually.

[sky-berrie]

Heartbreak - the batboys

Summary: How the boys (Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian) react (platonic) when you're broken hearted.

A/N: If you're going through heartbreak over a breakup or rejection I'm so sorry that you're hurting right now. I wish I could take your pain away. Although we don’t know each other, I can say with 100% certainty that you have so much to offer, way too much to waste it on someone who can’t/won’t appreciate you.

If you’re suffering right now, please don't give up. You got through yesterday which means you can do it again today. People often say that every day will get easier, but I know that it doesn't always feel like it; there may be good days and bad days and that's okay. Use that as a reminder that feelings, even negative feelings, don't last forever. But on the bad days, please stay strong. You've worked so hard to heal, don't let it go in vain. Progress may be slow and imperceptible from day to day, but progress is progress and I am proud of you.

You deserve all the love and happiness in the world. You deserve someone who will treat you the way you want to be treated. You deserve better and there is much better out there. If you need to hear it from someone else, take it from our BatBoys. Without further ado, here is how the boys react when you’re going through heartbreak.

Dick

If you’re hurting, Dick is hurting. He’ll do anything to help you feel better. He’ll ask you what you need from him, whether that’s someone to talk to or someone to sit in silence with, someone to wallow and eat junk food with, or someone to hit the gym with.

If you want to talk, he’s a great listener. He's patient and lets you vent and circle around and around as many times as you need, but he never lets you put yourself down. He’ll gently challenge your self-deprecating thoughts.

“Why am I not good enough?”

“Y/N,” he says firmly as he turns your shoulders to face him and leans down to connect with your eyes. “You are more than good enough.”

“Then why don't they want me?” you ask as tears pool in your eyes.

Dick shakes his head. His brows knit together in sorrow. “I don't know and we'll never know. Maybe they're going through something difficult that has nothing to do with you. Maybe they're confused. Maybe they're hung up on their ex. Maybe they think you’re too good for them and they got scared. Maybe they're looking for something different at this point in their life. There are so many possibilities but none of them matter because whatever is going through their head doesn't change anything about who you are. You are still the same amazing person that you have always been.”

"If I was so amazing then they would want me."

Dick shakes his head again. "That's like expecting every person in the world to love the same book, movie, song, food, you name it. Who's that comic book character that you're obsessed with? You're always raving about your hot take on why they're the best and how everyone's sleeping on them. Most people don't see their appeal but that doesn't make you love them any less, does it?"

Dick has a point. It's only a select group of people who share your adoration for your favorite character and that has never bothered you. In fact, that makes the character even more special to you.

If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, too. If you'd rather consume an unreasonable amount of junk food, then Dick will clear out the local convenience store and be at your place in five minutes. He won't let you make it a habit because he cares about your health, but sometimes you just need a day to drown your sorrows in sugar.

You’re both in your comfiest clothes sitting on the couch under a fluffy blanket, even if it's 100 degrees outside. You'll just turn on the AC so you can be cozy and snug. You lean against him with your head resting on his shoulder as you eat your favorite snack in dejection. If you want physical comfort, then he'll put an arm around you and hold you close until you've eaten yourself into a sugar coma and fall asleep on him.

Dick worries about you and can't bear the thought of you suffering alone. If you laugh together, you cry together. He will be by your side as much as possible unless you genuinely want/need alone time. Eventually you might start to feel like a burden for taking up his time and disrupting his life, but don't bother pretending to be fine just so he'll stop worrying about you.

You put on your best smile, though you feel it faltering. You hope Dick doesn't notice. "I think I'm good now," you tell him. "That was the last of the tears."

Dick doesn't say anything. He just eyes you, a mixture of concern and contemplation on his face as he evaluates the veracity of your statement.

You try to hold it together just a little longer, but you crack and break down in tears again. Dick pulls you in for another hug. "I'm sorry," you mumble against his chest.

"What for?"

"For being so annoying. You must feel like my babysitter."

"You are not annoying, Y/N. You know I love hanging out with you and I know you'd do the same for me, so please, don't be a hypocrite and just let me be here for you."

Jason

Jason is best at supporting you through the anger stage of your grief. In fact, he will perpetually be in the anger stage on your behalf. If you were cheated on, you best believe that Jason will pay said slimy cheater a special visit. He won’t ever tell you about it because you’re probably going to object, but when your friend tells you that your ex was randomly beaten up the day following your break up, you can make an educated guess as to what happened. Jason knows you don’t approve of violence or revenge but it helps him sleep at night. He hates seeing you cry and if you’re crying, he’s damn well going to make sure they’re crying too.

If you’re ready to talk shit about your ex, Jason is your boy. He has a slew of creative insults to call the person who broke your heart and this man does not hold back. “Y/N, you are way too good for that assmonkey bitchface douchebag. They were lucky you even gave them the fucking time of day. Seriously, you are so fucking far out of their league."

If that weasel has the audacity to beg you to take them back? Over Jason's dead body. You are not wasting a second more on that asshole and Jason will make sure of that. If they call or text, he will not hesitate to colorfully tell them off. If they are brave (read: stupid) enough to show up at your place and unlucky enough that Jason happens to be there, Jason is absolutely going to go berserk on them.

Even if your ex didn't cheat on you, Jason won't want you to take them back. He refuses to let you be someone's convenient option. Jason wants you to be with someone who values you so much that the thought of letting you go never crosses their mind.

If you start missing that person and wanting to contact them, Jason will give you some tough love. He will physically stop you by confiscating your phone or having Tim rig it so that it can't call/text or receive from that number.

“Fuck them, Y/N. They’re trash and you dodged a bullet. Don’t tempt fate now.”

You might be craving the feeling of being wanted and chased and you probably have all sorts of wild fantasies of you and your ex rekindling the relationship. It clouds your judgement and makes you forget about all their many negative qualities.

"But maybe they've changed. What if they really love me and I'm reading it all wrong? What if I'm throwing away something special?" you object.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind? First of all, they're a moron who took you for granted. Unfortunately being moronic is an incurable and terminal illness so it's all downhill from here. Second of all, there's a thousand more just like them. If you really want to waste your time on a jackass, at least pick a new one."

Your head says Jason's right but your heart says otherwise and it's written all over your face.

"Y/N," says Jason, a little softer now. He stands directly in front of you with a serious expression. "I know you're going through hell but I've been there and back. I promise everything will be okay. Walk away with your head held high. Let go of them." Jason offers his hand for you to take. "I've got you."

And with his encouragement, you decide to move on. To help you get through this tough time, his go-to tactic is to distract you with all sorts of activities. It’s 3am and you’re feeling sad? Jason’s over at your place in a heartbeat and you’re going for a drive to get your favorite comfort food in your pajamas. You want Jason to get all dressed up and take you to a gala? Under normal circumstances, he'd rather die again. However, Jason will gladly do that if it means you aren't talking to your ex.

Tim

When you're heartbroken, people invariably tell you don't be sad because everything happens for a reason, be glad that you didn’t waste even more time on them, forget about them and find someone who cares about you. Gee, what splendid ideas; why didn't you think of those before? You know they mean well, but feelings don't go away just because you think they should. As a result, you might act optimistic and upbeat around others to spare yourself the well intended lecture.

However, keeping up the facade gets exhausting. Being social or being around high energy people can become an emotional drain. Sometimes you might want to avoid the entire world, save for Tim. It’s easy to be vulnerable with him because he doesn’t tell you how you should feel. Of course, he doesn't want you to be upset, but he understands that you need to grieve and it's okay to feel sad. Similar to how some people can sit in comfortable silence, Tim can sit in comfortable sadness.

"Did you want to do something today?" asks Tim from the driver's seat.

You shake your head wordlessly. You barely had the energy to leave your home today. Anything else would be too difficult.

"That's fine. We can chill at the manor," he says without judgement. He doesn't make you feel bad for wanting to be a hermit and he doesn't try to force you to get back out there before you're ready.

You follow Tim up to his room and you plop down on his bed. If you want some comfy clothes, Tim will toss you something from his drawers or he’ll grab some of his brothers' or sisters' old clothes.

Tim pulls back the covers for you to crawl under. He tucks you in like a child and kisses your forehead affectionately. It makes you feel loved and for a fleeting moment, the pain is gone.

If you want company, Tim will jump in on the other side and you’ll both be idly scrolling on your phones for a while. However, if you're on your phone, there's a good chance that you'll see something that reminds you of the person who broke your heart. If you don't want to talk about it, Tim won't pry. He'll open his arms in case you want a warm safe place to rest. He might rub soft circles on your back if you don’t mind.

If you do want to talk about it, Tim offers a different perspective. Maybe you're plagued by a million "if only" and "what if" scenarios. Maybe you're stuck on things you did or didn't do.

"I screwed everything up. What if that was my once chance at happiness? I wish I could go back in time and do it differently."

Some people like to focus on the positives. "On the bright side, now you have more time for your hobby." Or, "at least you'll save money on expensive dates and gifts."

They might gravitate to the old cliches, "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," and "there are plenty of fish in the sea." Unfortunately, none of that makes the pain any more bearable.

Instead, Tim focuses on the negatives. He recognizes that you're always going to find something to dwell on but you can use that to your advantage.

“You are the king/queen/champion of pessimism, Y/N. Even if you did exactly what you think you wish you had done, I have full confidence in your pessimistic powers that you would still find something to regret.”

Maybe something about that resonates with you. Maybe you've always struggled with indecisiveness because you're afraid to make the wrong choice. Maybe you've always felt like you're damned if you do and damned if you don't, so picking one seemed impossible. Now you realize if you're damned either way, then there's nothing to worry about.

“You did exactly what you needed to do at the time,” he assures you. "You are exactly where you need to be right now."

Even though you're understandably still sad, something in your heart tells you he's right. Being here with Tim is exactly where you're supposed to be.

Damian

Damian isn't particularly adept at providing physical or emotional comfort. It's not that he doesn't care, it's just that it’s hard for him to empathize. He sincerely wants to be helpful and tries his best but he can be unintentionally blunt and may come across as insensitive sometimes.

“Why do you want to be with someone who does not want to be with you?” he asks. Ouch. That stings. Did he have to phrase it like that?

“I don’t,” you answer, almost defensively.

“Then for what reason are you sad?”

“Because they don’t want me.”

“But you do not want them either,” he points out, not understanding the issue.

“Yeah, I know. It just hurts, okay?” you bite, irritation creeping into your voice.

"I am sorry you are upset but I am not sorry they broke up with you, Y/N."

You're stunned into silence. How could be he so cruel? To kick you when you were already down?

Then he continues. "You are genuine, thoughtful, generous, strong, and brilliant. You are a once in a lifetime soul. And them? They were nothing but a lowly simpleton who lacked the capacity to offer you the rich and meaningful life you deserve. They were foolish to let you go - likely too foolish to ever comprehend what they have lost - but I am relieved that you will not be condemned to an unfulfilling life with such a halfwit. They were merely an albatross around your neck, preventing you from achieving and experiencing far superior things in life."

That might have been the kindest thing he’s ever expressed to you or anyone else. Given how much pain you are going through, it’s probably hard to believe him right now, but you have to admit that he made you feel at least fractionally better.

“Come now, Y/N,” Damian says, tugging on your hand. “Let’s go play with Titus.”

The two of you are sitting on the couch with Titus in between. Titus is keen and quickly picks up on your emotions. He cuddles and nuzzles into your side as you gently stroke his fur. The warmth of his body grounds you and brings you some peace.

If you need a change of scenery, you and Damian take Titus for a walk. During your walk, you might come across something that reminds you of your ex. Maybe you see a cafe that you used to go to with that person. Your eyes linger on the storefront longingly and your whole body deflates at the reminder.

Damian notices your shift in body language. “What is the matter, Y/N?” Damian asks.

You sigh. “Nothing, I just - Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“I will be the judge of that,” he says, a little teasingly. “Tell me,” he demands.

You take a deep breath. “That was my favorite cafe. I introduced them to it and now it's their favorite place, too. I can't go there without thinking of them or worrying that I'll run into them."

"For once you are right. That is stupid."

"Thanks, Damian," you mutter sarcastically.

"Shall we?" He cocks his head at the cafe.

"Shall we what?" you ask in confusion.

"Go in."

You stare blankly at him. Did he not hear what you just said?

Damian explains, "you can introduce me to this cafe and then you can think of me whenever you come across it. Look, they even have a Puppuccino for Titus."

You give him a hesitant expression.

"Come," Damian encourages. He doesn't want your ex to have any bearing on your life anymore. He wants you to reclaim the things you enjoy. "Even Titus is excited to try it." Titus takes his cue and barks enthusiastically.

You take a deep breath and bravely follow them inside. You look around nervously as Damian peruses the menu hanging above the coffee bar. If Damian can sense that you are uneasy, he doesn't acknowledge it. He casually asks you what you recommend as if this coffee run was as mundane as any other coffee run. His calm demeanor eases your nerves and you start to feel more comfortable. You realize that it wasn't nearly as tough as your brain anticipated. Day by day you make new happy memories with Damian and Titus. Little by little the happy memories outshine the sad memories.

[ahyperactivehero]

maybe the boys and girls (plus monty if his presence works or makes sense) having a snowball fight??

hello anon! i hope this quick little fic is enough to satisfy your request!

(and an extra hug for the dbda cancellation tonight)

XXX

It was the first snowfall of the year, and Charles was bouncing around like a little kid who’d consumed too much sugar in one sitting.

“C’mon, mate, please? Let’s actually walk there. No mirror travel,” he practically begged, although Edwin knew that if he pointed that out to him he would likely pout.

“Yeah, Edwin,” Crystal said, lifting her face up from her phone as if she cared either way. “Why do we have to walk in the cold while you two always get to take the shortcut?”

There were lots of reasons why, which Edwin had pointed out before. Because neither Niko, Monty, nor Crystal could travel via mirror. Because they often insisted on side-tracking them with random “side quests” as Niko liked to label them and stop for things like coffee or scones or ‘changing clothes’ when it should just be a quick trip to the library. 

Because Edwin did take the long way with them frequently enough that he was sure his ghostly footprints would somehow embed themselves into the sidewalk outside. 

But none of that mattered. Not when Charles was insisting on giving him those puppy dog eyes as Crystal liked to call them, and Niko was doing her level best to do the same. The only one not currently trying to get him to walk through the snow was Monty, and Edwin was fairly certain that was because he wasn’t listening to any of them.

He sighed, surrendering to the peer pressure of his friends. It would be easier to do it this way than to try and get them to focus later.

“Fine,” he said, holding up his hands. “We can take the long way.”

“Yay!” Niko cheered. She jumped up from her spot on the couch next to Crystal and threw her arms around Edwin. “We are going to make the best snow angels.”

“We are not making snow angels. We are going to the library,” Edwin said. 

Crystal rolled her eyes as she plucked Monty’s book from his hands. “Come on, we’re going to the library,” she said.

His eyes widened as he scrambled up to follow the girls out. “Why are we going?” he asked. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to just let Edwin and Charles go get the books?” His voice trailed off as the door closed behind him.

Charles grinned at Edwin, seeming amused that he and Monty were on the same page. “Come on, mate, it’s just a bit of snow. Won’t even feel it, will ya?” He clapped him on the shoulder and quickly filed out with everyone else.

Edwin had the distinct feeling that they were not going to make it to the library today.

XXX

If you asked whose idea it was they would all blame a different person. Crystal said it must have been Charles, because he was clearly the one who liked to throw things. Charles said it was Niko, because she had mentioned how much she’d missed playing in the snow just moments before the first snowball flew through the air. Niko said it was Monty, because clearly he was being too sneaky and quiet about it. And Monty claimed it was Crystal, because she was the first one to accuse any of them. No one even thought about Edwin.

It wasn’t any of them, of course. Edwin was a damn good detective, which is why he knew that they would never realize it had been he who’d thrown the first snowball.

He’d never played much in the snow as a child. One, his parents would simply never have allowed it, said it was too messy and rambunctious to play around like that. And two, he’d been a rather sickly child and cold, wet weather only exasperated it.

He’d never even made a snowball until after his death. The first time he’d ever participated in a snowball fight had been the year after Charles died, when the other boy had decided he needed to “lighten up” a bit and had promptly nailed him upside the head with a snowball. Of course it hadn’t hurt, but the cold, wet ball of snow smacking against him had been enough to startle him and allowed Charles to get in a few more good shots before he’d retaliated.

This time he’d been prepared. While everyone walked in front of him either complaining about the weather or sprouting its virtues he’d reached down, packed the snow lightly together, and tossed the ball up in the air until it landed somewhere in between Charles and Crystal.

It had only taken moments for the accusations to fly. Niko and Monty promptly split off together, their hands clutching each other as they tried to pull the other one to the safety that was behind a bench. Crystal immediately threw her hands in the air, more amusement than true annoyance coloring her tone as she rolled her eyes and grabbed some snow from the top of a nearby car.

“You wanna throw snowballs, huh?” she asked, looking at Charles. 

“I didn’t do it!” Charles said, holding his hands up. He only waited a moment before turning and running back in Edwin’s direction. A moment later and the two of them were crouched behind a trashcan together, their faces so close Edwin almost couldn’t see straight.

A grin split Charles’s face. “Wanna do the old toss and split?” he asked. Already his hands were working on the snow under their feet, trying to get the perfect snowball size.

Edwin reached down, moving his hands so they were slightly closer together. Charles always made them too big; they always fell apart right before they found their intended target.

A faint blush spread across Charles's face as he fixed his hands. He allowed Edwin’s hand to rest there for just a moment too long before he continued churning out snowballs. 

“Charles, I think-” 

Before Edwin could finish his sentence a hail of snowballs rained down from above. A moment later and he would have been incorporeal, but the sheer surprise at seeing a literal mountain of snowballs come down on him distracted him long enough to let them hit him.

From the sputtering sounds next to him it seemed as if Charles shared a similar fate.

“Is it cheating to use magic?” Crystal’s voice asked once the snowballs stopped.

“Hmmm, I don’t think so,” Niko said. Edwin could practically hear her tapping her chin. “Use what you’ve got, right Monty?”

Edwin could just barely see his self satisfied smirk. “Yeah. Besides, if I hadn’t they were just going to do the same but then phase through a wall or something.”

“Oi!” Charles said, “We were not.”

They were.

“Besides, one of you started this. It only seems fair we get to go all ghost on you, right?” he asked, looking to Edwin for reassurance. 

Edwin nodded as he tried to look righteous about their accusations. “That does seem fair.”

Crystal cut her arms through the cold air. “We didn’t start it! You did!” 

It was a while before the accusations finally stopped, and only then was it because Crystal had thrown another snowball at them, which only started them up again. 

Nearly an hour later and every living person was soaked through and shivering. 

“I would looove some hot chocolate right about now,” Niko said, clasping her hands in front of her face, her lip jutted out in a pout. 

Monty nodded and gestured for her and Crystal to lead the way. 

Charles stepped up behind Edwin, so close the other boy was practically leaning on him. “Sorry we didn’t make it to the library today,” he said. “Next time we can just take the mirror.”

Edwin smiled softly at his retreating friends. “It is fine, Charles,” he said. “We can count this as an agency bonding moment.”

A similarly soft smile grew on Charles’s face. “Agency bonding moment? Yeah, I like that,” he said. He wrapped an arm around Edwin’s shoulders, his face leaning in close to him. “If we hurry, we could probably get them one more time before they reach the coffee shop.”

At Edwin’s nod Charles reached down and grabbed his hand and pulled him after their friends. Maybe a snow day wasn’t such a terrible thing after all.

[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hi my loves! so here’s chapter 1! i’ll hopefully have chapter 2 out by tonight since this one doesn’t really have any carmy in it but i really hope you like it still! also let me be so real and say that i did use google translate for the spanish parts and realise that i probably should have left this part to actual hispanic/latino authors, so if you’d like to give suggestions or just yell at me if the translations are wrong, please do so. i face claimed alisha boe as my baby camila but feel free to visualise any other person as well! lots of love and light 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; chapter 1

2022

Music, the soft sizzle of pans on the stove and a beautiful, sweet aroma flooded the small home as Camila’s mother rushed into the kitchen while putting on her earrings.

“Mija, what are you making? It smells wonderful.” Tina asked as she peeked over her daughter’s shoulder.

“Raspberry souffle pancakes.” Camila smiled, slapping her mom’s hands from taking one of the berries on her right in a dish. “My little pastry chef,” Tina said as she kissed the brown girl’s curls. “¿Quieres venir conmigo a la tienda hoy?” [Do you want to come with me to the shop today?]

“Mami, I already told you that I-”

“You don’t want to go in yet, I know but Camila, you’re going to have to tell him at some point. The more time goes on, the less understanding he’ll be when he finds out that you’ve been hiding an entire-”

“I know, I know.” Cam sighed.

Rubbing her daughter’s shoulders, Tina attempted to comfort her. “It’s okay, I know you’re not ready. Is she up yet?”

“No, but I'll wake her up soon when I’m done.” Camila said as she flipped over the last pancake.

This caused Tina to immediately perk up, asking “Can I do it? Please please please?”

Before the young mother could even answer, the older of the pair was already quickly shuffling in the direction of the bedrooms. The heartwarming sound of Emelia’s giggles rang through the home as Tina walked in holding the child in her arms before handing her over to her mother.

Emilia Antonia Ivy was born in the late fall of 2019 and was the perfect byproduct of Camila Ivy and Carmen Berzatto alike. Though not even yet reaching the age of three, Emmy already demonstrated having the biggest heart and mind that her mother had ever seen. She was polite, kind, never threw tantrums and was always eager to watch her mother in the kitchen. She enjoyed seeing and mimicking the same focus exhibited on her mom’s face while cooking, characterised by a small pout. However, it only reminded Camila of the toddler’s father more than anything.

Camila and Emelia moved back to Chicago to stay with Cam’s mother and help her deal with the death of her chosen son, Michael who had committed suicide a few months prior. From the moment Camila heard the news, she instantly thought about everyone else who might need her at that moment, completely forgetting her own pain that seemed to be consuming her chest. She was unselfish in that way, or maybe too selfish, rather opting to focus on everyone else than allow herself to hurt. And so she packed their bags and flew straight to Chi-town to take care of her mom, help Sugar with the funeral and even check on The Beef, though making sure to leave the shop before Carmy’s arrival.

It had been about three years since she had seen the man who she once called the love of her life. Granted he was only demoted from that title by his very own child, but Camila still loved him very much. One however could attempt to dispute that statement by the fact that she had still not told him about said child. At first it was understandable, most of her friends and family supported her choice for the first couple of months, but then months turned to years before it just never felt like the right time.

“Morning, Bear.” Camila laughed while smothering the two-year-old’s face with kisses before setting the girl on the kitchen stool and pushing a plate of warm pancakes dripping with white chocolate sauce in front of her.

“Why don’t you two ever eat your pancakes with syrup like normal people?” Tina laughed, watching both girls tear into their respective plates.

“Because of the tartness, Abuela.” Emmy said with her mouth still full.

“What, are you gonna go to the CSI now too? Huh?” The older woman smiled as she tickled the toddler on her sides. Just then, she realised she would be late for work and so she bid her two next of kin goodbye.

“You wanna go to the park today, Bear?” Camila queried excitedly.

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny

[dm me to get on the tag list &lt;3]

[suntreehq]

Victory from the Jaws of Defeat

I learn. I change. I grow ☀️🌴

Food wise today was a strange day.

It started off well - I fasted for 4-5 hours. Was walking home from the coffee shop but decided to get indian snack and chai for a local chai place. I asked them for chai without sugar but for some reason they said they were unable to do that, and assured me it would only have "a little sugar".

My friends, this was the most sugary chai I have had in years.

Needless to say I wont be returning to this establishment in a while. (The vada pav was nice however, but not really something that is going to make sticking to my calorie limit easier).

Then I stopped by at the supermarket, and was having a real brain failure moment. I mean I was going blank on names of friends and famous people and well... it was strange and disconcerting. But I ended up buying a large pizza and chocolate eclairs because I felt I'd be too lazy to cook today and because I guess I wanted them.

Before I had the eclair, I ate some pineapple which was delicious. The eclair itself wasn't that great, and I sensibly decided to get rid of the second one.

Lesson: I'm better off just buying cream and eating it with fruit and maybe some 100% cacoa than buying eclairs or cream cakes.

Then I made the pizza. I was planning on eating the whole thing... but it was really, really mediocre and bland. I mean my low calorie home made pizzas are sooooo much better. So I ate half of it and got rid of the rest.

Lesson: Store bought pizzas are rubbish compared to my home made low calorie pizzas.

How many times do I need to learn this lesson?

After that I ate some boiled and then roasted potatoes with cottage cheese - because I needed something satiating, and the pizza just wasnt going to do that.

Lesson: Satiety is important. Prioritise it especially when you have eaten some food that you know only makes you want to ear more.

And then to close out the day within calorie limits (only 5 calories over), I had a protein shake, followed by fruit and air popped popcorn. I almost went to eat a half a cookie, but in the end chose to go for fruit instead to make sure I stayed within calorie limits AND to feel satiated.

Lesson: Dont be afraid to lean on the protein shakes to get a boost of protein on days where you have under consumed that macro.

Lesson: I am loving fruit more and more. Enjoying it over stuff like chocolate and cookies. The enjoyment is different. More satisfying and nourishing. And infinitely more satiating. Eating fruit leaves me feeling refreshed and full. Eating cookies and chocolate leaves me craving more and sometimes feeling a bit bleh.

So in many ways the behaviours I have chosen today are things I woulndt have done in the past.

I wouldn't have been able to just eat half the pizza, realise it was doing nothing for me and then decided to get rid of the rest.

I wouldn't have chosen to eat fruit over a cookie (or even limit myself to half a cookie).

I wouldn't have made the smarter choices of prioritizing satiating foods I enjoy, over convenient foods that fill some sort of short term gratification and lead to a cycle of bad behaviour.

So I'm putting today down as a big win for:

graceful degradation (not capitulating to some suboptimal decisions)

early stages of a new, healthier way to incorporate less healthy foods into my diet and still stick to the overall plan

making better choices from a place of awareness, enjoyment and self-care, rather than restriction and goal obsession.

I feel like I'm learning, changing, growing.

It's a nice feeling.

[flowerhead-fh]

Pop singer Steve x Rockstar Eddie AU

So I just had a concert earlier today, a big one, and when I got off the stage, I felt this sudden feeling of sadness. Cause I was suddenly just my boring usual self again. . . So I'm gonna project it onto Steve, enjoy (Steve's POV) "Meet me in the hallway For a cup of coffee by the stairs," Steve sang passionately, using every inch of the stage. He was in the zone, and he was having so much fun! "I guess I didn't understand That I fell for you I lost my cool-"

This must be one of his biggest concerts yet, it's funny though. He never feels more or less nervous before any concert, he just feels that initial adrenaline, just as he enters the stage, through the first verse, and then- (BOOM)

"It hit me like a sucker punch! Just one look and I'm out of touch!" It all disappears and is nowhere to be found anymore

"I'm freaking out

'Cause I'm scared this might end bad,

but I still come back

for that sucker punch!"

And it all feels so great, the lights all lighting up to the beat of his song, the mike feeling so light, so right in his hand.

"Sucker punch

Sucker punch

Sucker punch

But I still come back for that

Sucker punch!"

And then before he knows it, it's over.

It's so strange, it felt like it was never gonna end back then. He belonged there. Maybe it was the attention he got from it, or maybe it was the enjoyment he got from just singing what he loved, but he didn't want to leave. Because when he did leave he was just- "Amazing job, Steve! That was awesome!"

He's just Steve, just normal Steve, just a human, a particularly lonely one at that. It's funny, he gets so many compliments after each of his shows, and yet none of them really sink in. He doesn't even know what he did to please so many people, but he doesn't want to know, he just wants to stay up there, on that stage, singing. Is that so much to ask?

"Hey, great job up there." Eddie, whom Steve got to know by accident, because, coincidentally they often end up singing at the same concerts, brought him out of his thoughts. "Thank you so much." Steve sometimes struggles to respond to compliments, and it can come across as unsure when he keeps repeating "Thank you, thank you so much!" especially when they keep going. It gets him to start wondering if he's supposed to be saying something else, but he can't think of any other appropriate response.

"Are you gonna sing now?" Eddie nods. "Yeah, but hey. Seriously. You did amazing." Steve looks down and smiles, maybe a bit awkwardly. "Thank you. I- I try." Eddie smiles at him. "Of course! Anyways, wish me luck up there!" Eddie waves at him shortly and heads to the stage. Steve just manages to let out a short "Good luck..." Before Eddie's gone.

Now Steve is on his way home, getting driven there by his chauffeur.

Steve could compare all his concerts to a sugar rush, it all feels so amazing, and you feel so happy. But then it all comes crashing down on you, and the worst part for Steve? He's all alone throughout it, even if he does eventually get to see Robin afterward. She makes his mood a whole lot better, but it doesn't change that feeling of emptiness inside of him. Is it supposed to feel like this?

Steve sighs at his own thoughts. "I wonder if Eddie feels like this..." He thinks to himself.

Eventually, he arrives home, and Robin immediately consumes him in a bear hug. "AAAH! You did so good, Steve!" Steve chuckles. Thank God for Robin. "Thanks, Robs." He smiles softly as he says it. He furrows his brows "Were you there? I didn't see you." Robin shakes her head. "I watched a live stream. That other guy was pretty good too! Did you stay to watch him?" Presuming Robin is referring to Eddie, the answer would be "No I didn't."

It's not like he was tired, nor was he particularly displeased with Eddie's music. But he used to stay to watch all the shows, trying to be the loudest cheerer in the crowd for all of them. But then at a couple of his concerts, Eddie started making eye contact with Steve in the middle of a song, and if Steve saw correctly he winked at him.

And it made Steve feel like he was going crazy because he couldn't tell if he just made that up or whether it actually happened, and if it did happen, was it just Steve? or did he do it for all the fans that happened to be looking in the general direction of his face. Steve didn't know, and he was going crazy trying to find out. So for the sake of his mental and heart health, he stopped going to the shows.

"You should! He's really good, obviously not as good as you, but you know. Good, perhaps even worthy of speaking to you." Steve chuckles at that "Wow, then I might just consider it." He yawns.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed for the night. Are you staying over?" Robin shakes her head "I got a sleepover with Chrissy tonight- SHUT IT." But Steve is already smirking coyly "A sleepover, huh?" Robin shoves his shoulder lightly "I said shut it, dingus." Steve giggles at that. "Let me know how it went~," He says on his way to the bedroom.

"I won't~," Says Robin, copying his tone, and leaving the house. When Steve is finally in bed his mind wanders, "I wonder if Eddie noticed I stopped coming..." It's a silly thought, but it's the one he entertains for however long it took him to fall asleep.

(Please leave a comment if I should continue this, Ik this didn't have a lot of Steddie content, but if you ask, I promise I CAN DO BETTER)

[neciebee]

Ah, secret lovers is a good choice. I can work with that!

So do they meet for secret rendezvous in

Court of Nightmares

OR

Autumn woods (can you say sex cabin?)

OR

Somewhere else (maybe somewhere they shouldn’t be?)

You know what’s the worst part about planning Christmas parties? Convincing the elves to eat anything that isn’t CANDY! You know I love cookies, but those little troublemakers eat way too much sugar and then carol all night! I’m too old for that, and so are they!

I look forward to your answer!

-🧑🏻‍🎄

Hiii Santa! We’ve seen them fuck in Hewn City, we love our Gay Sex Cabins, but let’s stir shit up and have them crash some other pad that’s decidedly NOT purposed for clandestine exchanges of fluids? They see each other on patrol or on a mission or at a meeting and they can’t stay away and they fall into each other (oops) throwing caution to the wind with their need to consume each other. They might have been lovers for a long time, but they’re still mean about it. And they’re punishing themselves and each other but nothing has ever felt so good.

I woke up horny today.

Pro-tip: if you want to keep the elves away from chocolate, tell them it’s reindeer poop you’ve been saving to fertilise the garden. Also, you can get melatonin gummies if you need a night free from carols.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

088 of 2024

Created by brelee

How have you been doing?

Pretty fine, except that I'm a bit tired. I'm having fun preparing for our trip.

Anything you're looking forward to?

Yeah, our vacation in Poland. Only a few days left.

Do you or anyone you know play the violin?

I know my sister can play some violin, but except her, no.

Do you have a nice view out of the closest window?

Nah, just our lame backyard XD

What is one of your favorite breakup songs?

I don't like love songs at all, with a few exceptions, and one would be Nu Wij Niet Meer Praten by Jaap Reesema & Pommelien Thijs.

Do you know anyone named Georgia or George?

Yea my name is a local variant of George if it counts.

What age did you learn how to ride a bike?

I was 3, for real. Never needed supporting wheels either.

Are you currently listening to music or watching TV?

Watching TV, it's one of my favourite TV shows.

What is your morning routine?

Morning meds, shower, food.

Are you someone who gets easily agitated by hearing someone chewing?

If they're obnoxious with it, then yes.

What was the last text you sent?

Something about our cat.

What did you last have to eat?

I just cooked a veggie soup and I'm eating it now.

What's your favorite kind of oatmeal/porridge?

Cooked on milk and flavoured with cinnamon and chocolate.

Have you ever ate a whole pizza in one sitting?

Nah, it's too much.

What are some things you are grateful for?

Having my life saved, being independent despite physical disability, my husband, my cat.

What's the last thing you done while outside?

We went to Melle to leave our teenager at his friend's.

How often do you do laundry?

Every week.

Have you already had your birthday this year?

Yeah, in April.

Last thing you done before this survey?

Cooking a soup.

Do you like sleeping with multiple pillows?

Yeah, I have three.

How many candles do you have in your bedroom?

A few, but not for lighting.

What emojis have you used the most here recently?

Probably the green heart.

What color is your favorite shirt?

Black, and it's a band t-shirt from Vildhjarta.

Do you currently smell food cooking?

Yup, because I just cooked.

If you were given $1,000 to spend at one store. What's your store of choice?

Electronics store, definitely.

How much sugar do you consume on a daily basis?

Not much. I don't like sweet things.

Do you have any ice cream in your freezer?

Yeah, quite a few. I don't even know which ones.

What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word "chaos"?

The Universe.

Do you own anything that has an animated character on it?

Yeah, a t-shirt with Marie from the Aristocats.

Have you used a microwave today?

No, not yet. Maybe after I come back home.

What's the last book you read?

Suicide Notes. Nothing unpredictable, though.

What's something that always makes you cringe?

Public displays of affection.

What's a word or phrase you say a lot?

Oioioi.

What's something that always makes you emotional?

Music. For real.

How many times have you changed clothes today?

Twice.

What's on your mind currently?

Our vacation. I have to do some final shopping.

In what ways have you changed over the past year?

I don't think I've changed much.

Do you really care about others opinions of you?

No, I don't. Life is too short for this.

What's your favorite pasta?

Penne. And two other ones, farfalle and one I don't remember the name of.

Do you currently see anything yellow?

Yeah, some cheese.

What song could you imagine playing in heaven and which one would be playing in hell?

In heaven, any of my favourite songs. In hell, Dance Monkey by Tones and I, because I hate this song.

What did you last try to do and failed?

Reaching for something and dropping it, lol at my hand.

Does your bathroom have a certain theme or color scheme?

Nah, it's just grey and white.

If you have Netflix or any streaming service.. what's your favorite shows to stream?

I have live TV apps, too, and I stream live.

Are you currently wearing anything red?

No, not at the moment.

What was the last thing that caught your eye while shopping?

Apple jenever lol.

What's a social media site you have no interest in?

All of them.

Have you ever tripped and fallen in a public place?

Many times lol. Happens to everyone, I guess.

When did you last buy a dairy product?

Today, we bought eggs and butter.

What's the last song you sang out loud?

I don't remember.

[decoysouled]

all the things i should(n't) have said dialogue prompts // accepting. @galactia // ❝ you shouldn't look at me like that. ❞ (from my Alhaitham, for Kaveh)

THERE IS A MYRIAD OF WAYS KAVEH HAS LOOKED AT ALHAITHAM THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE — with fondness ( that of a close friend who feels nothing but happiness in the company of someone they care for ), with sorrow ( as he walked away from the chasm between them that he couldn't face, hiding the regret of ever saying i regret becoming your friend ), with annoyance ( never anger, because Kaveh has never truly allowed himself that, but with a frustration that was on the edge of anger. )

( the type of frustration that boils over into upset, that leaves him feeling both everything & nothing all at once in a hollowed out place in his heart where fondness used to live. )

Rocky relationship aside, Kaveh had thought that they were doing better. After all, there have been far fewer arguments between them & even a tentative peace at times ( even if that is quick to dissolve some days ) that Kaveh has grown to accept as a shard of what could have been if their argument had never torn them apart. He does not let himself think of that often.

( perhaps if they had never done that group project, they would still be friends rather than acquaintances who have long outgrown each other. )

Kaveh doesn't believe he's looked at Alhaitham any particular way today — he does has yet to feel anything boil over into annoyance nor does sadness ( the grief of all his mistakes ) linger more than usual. The morning has been peaceful ( in contrast to the usual bickering that leaves his day ruined before he has the chance to enjoy it ) & their coexistence much the same, although he's sure it is a fragile type of serenity that won't last.

The peace between them never does. Perhaps that, Kaveh considers, is the issue at hand — the peace that reminds him of the days they were friends, the once-common look of fondness having appeared within his expression for only a moment. It's different, he knows, to the usual disbelief & incredulity & resignation Kaveh looks at him with when frustration is not running rampant & sorrow has not consumed him.

Maybe Alhaitham, too, does not like to remember the days they were friends. Maybe Alhaitham, too, does not enjoy the reminders of their closeness & Kaveh has allowed himself to indulge in the peace between them too much.

Kaveh does not respond at first, instead choosing to turn away & finish making the coffee he typically had on a morning, a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar mixed into it. His fingers wrap around the cup, as if to seek warmth, and he picks it up before turning back to Alhaitham, confusion dancing in his eyes.

❝Then how should I look at you?❞ He asks, uncertainty tainting his words in much the same way mud would change the colour of water & rot tainted the flowers within a vase. ❝Do you like it when I look at you with disdain, Alhaitham? Or sadness? Or annoyance?❞ It is not a genuine question, but he asks it all the same, for Kaveh is nothing if not someone who bites back at Alhaitham's words like a fish on a hook.

( later, he will regret these words. later, he will allow himself sorrow. )

❝Even if we aren't friends anymore, I want-❞ to be your friend again goes unsaid because he cannot allow such words to leave his mouth, the sentence instead being cut-off suddenly, much in the same way anger cuts things apart. ❝I want,❞ Kaveh repeats, ❝there to be some semblance peace between us. I don't want to argue, but it seems you're incapable of letting me indulge in a single moment when we aren't bickering.❞

It seems that Kaveh will never allow himself the peace he craves, either, but he does not mention that to Alhaitham. He doesn't think he ever will.

❝How have I looked at you for you to tell me that, anyway? Archons forbid I show any sign of happiness with you around, but I suppose that serves me right for thinking you'd let me have one good morning.❞ He grips the cup of coffee tighter, if only to keep his hands busy & to ground his mind in what is around himself rather than the spiral of thoughts in his brain.

❝Why can't I look at you the way I want to, for once, rather than the way you wish I would?❞