#stuck in the past music taste LOL

[hyuckmov]

rockstar hyuck playlist #1 - for hyuck → feat. lana del rey, cigarettes after sex & others → the playlist for the vibe/feel of the fic

rockstar hyuck playlist #2 - for reader → feat. niki, ariana grande, & others → playlist for our lovely backburner reader <3

fic | preview #1 , preview #2

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 1: I'LL SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

rb sebastian vettel x gf!reader

word count: 4095

summary: seb's gf finds out she's pregnant, and she decides that hiding her pregnancy is the best she could do due to seb's career

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of cheating, curse words, angst, fighting. set on may 2013. for a bit of background: reader and seb have been friends since they were literal babies, but growing up their feelings changed and started dating on 2006.

a/n: this is actually the first chapter of the very first series, Infinity, i posted here! i had to cancel it because i had some problems with wattpad people telling me through indirects i copied their work and i got very, very unmotivated with this story i absolutely love (when actually this was a draft I had of a tom holland fic back in 2017 lol), but i'd love to post the following parts if you like this one! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

You pulled the flush and got up, being careful not to get dizzy. You took some paper and wiped the corners of your mouth to remove any possible traces of vomit. You headed to the sink automatically, quickly pulling out the toothbrush you’ve gotten used to carrying since nausea became part of your daily routine. You really tried to get rid of the acidity in your throat and the bad taste in your mouth, but as you expected, and knowing you've been experiencing this more times than you'd like in the past month and a half, it was impossible.

"Y/N, are you still there? Are you okay?" Britta's voice, accompanied by a few knocks on the door, snapped you out of your trance. You startled and forced yourself to answer, even though it was the last thing you feel like doing.

"Yes, I’m coming. Just a sec!"

"Don’t take too long," she replied. "Not that I don’t want you to take your time, but Seb is worried."

Panic-stricken, you suppressed a laugh that almost escaped.

If only he knew what you were about to do…

"Don’t worry, I’ll be right out," you answered.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating your own reflection longer than you’d like. Minutes passed, and you almost completely lost track of time, aware that you needed to put an end to the intrusive thought that was telling you that what you were about to do was, wrong but inevitably the best thing.

You were going to break away from everything you’ve wanted since you were a child just because things hadn't turned out "right." Seb was at the peak of his professional career, constantly surpassing himself in every race, making history, while you remained stuck in your hometown, working at a bar, dealing with drunks and immature kids pretending to be adults daily, because you didn’t have the luck, or perhaps the financial means, to study what you had dreamed of since you were a child who just wanted to make music.

You leaned on the sink, feeling the cold starting to penetrate your body. A great tremor shook you, and it became increasingly difficult to stay on your feet. Your eyes filled with tears as you confronted the reality of what you were about to do, of the decision you'd made.

Since your boyfriend began not only achieving his dreams but making a name for himself, you thought you didn’t deserve him because you were heading in the opposite direction. Now that you’ve gotten pregnant by him, possibly because the birth control pills you were taking failed for some unknown reason, you felt like this even more.

Despite the love you still felt and possibly always will feel for Sebastian, since you took the pregnancy test with Hanna at one of the most secluded malls in Heppenheim, you knew that letting him know he was going to be a father was never part of your plans.

"Come on, Y/N…" you told yourself, still staring at your reflection. "This is for Seb. You're doing this for him and his career."

You took a deep breath a couple more times, feeling the knot in your throat choking you. You looked at the girl full of insecurities you were one more time. Her eyes reflected doubt and, above all, fear, and you sadly sensed that it will continue to be this way from now on.

Trying to control yourself, you slowly opened the bathroom door, as if wanting to torture yourself. Britta was sitting in one of the chairs, reviewing something in a notebook until you closed the door a bit harder than you meant to.

"Are you really okay?" she asked again, giving you an uncertain look. "I've been hearing you vomit for several weeks now. Don’t you think you should go to the doctor?"

The knot in your throat seemed to tighten even more. See a doctor… Of course you’d been to the doctor! Four weeks and, as of today, four days pregnant was the answer, but no one beyond your parents and your best friend could know.

"Yes, I’m fine," you replied quickly, trying to fake your answer as best as you could. "Don’t worry. It’s probably just a bit of stress," you added, praying she believed you. "I haven't had time to see a doctor, but I assure you, with all my heart, that everything is fine."

And that's why you're leaving the love of your life today.

Britta seemed to hesitate for a moment. Her lips remained slightly open, as if she wanted to say something. Her look gave you the feeling that she didn't quite believe what you were saying.

"Whatever you say, Y/N," she finally said, standing up from her seat. "But seriously, if you need to talk or anything, I’m here for you."

"I know."

"Well, seeing that you're as calm as a lake, we’d better hurry up," she told you. "The last free practice session is about to start, and Seb is probably worried why we haven’t come back yet."

You prepared to leave the room with her. You were more than sure to go with her, but as you were almost out the room, you realize it was now or never.

You stopped before going from the driver’s room to the garage, watching Britta hurry down the stairs, probably aware that you were running late even though there were still about forty-five minutes before the session started.

"Wait, Britta. Just a sec!"

You were convinced your shout from the top of the stairs was heard by more people than you’d like. You wished you could turn invisible as you saw some eyes on you, including Britta’s, which made it hard to speak, and not to mention the variety of emotions you were feeling inside you.

You needed to calm down and act a bit better, or everything you’d been mulling over will end up falling apart.

"I’d like to talk to Seb… alone," you finally said.

"Y/N Y/L/N," she said your name much more seriously now. "You’ve told me that everything is fine, but… are you sure it really is? Are you sure nothing’s wrong?"

No, everything is wrong, and yes, more things are happening than I’d like.

You knew you could trust Britta completely. You were sure that if you told her the news before you did to Seb, she wouldn’t say anything, at least not right away. You wanted to do it; in fact, you’d love to do it because she was like a second mother to you, but you knew you couldn't because, once you left, there’s a really high chance she might end up telling him everything in a moment of weakness.

"Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s nothing serious, don’t worry," you replied with a sigh, trying to console the PR woman and yourself. "I just need to talk to him about… well, a minor issue."

"Of course. Go get him, I’ll wait here. He’s probably talking to Rocky or Horner about who knows what. He hasn’t gone far, especially considering how eager he was to see you."

"Can you get him for me?" you let it out casually.

You ignored her last comment because now, your nerves were eating you alive. Britta seemed to notice your anxiety, so you were grateful she ignored it and acted as if nothing is wrong.

You sighed in relief when you saw her nod, and you couldn't stop thanking her out loud for what she just did for you.

"Lie down on the physio’s couch and try to rest a bit, you look a bit pale," she insisted. Reluctantly, and after repeating it a couple more times, you finally listened to her. "Seb will be here soon. You know he’ll drop everything when it comes to you."

And it was true. Once she left, you remained lying down, drawing small shapes on your stomach with your index finger. As you whispered things to what would supposedly be your child, a whirlwind of varied thoughts flooded your mind.

A small pressure settled in your chest as you became aware that the idea of breaking up with Sebastian was becoming a reality. You didn't want to face it and largely refused to, but you knew that for both of you, especially him, it was actually the best.

Hiding the truth from the guy you’d loved longer than you’d like to admit is exactly the opposite of what you should do, but because he was the most important person in your life, and you knew him almost as well as yourself, you knew he'd have time to play moms and dads in real life.

This year, the only thing he should focus on was winning his fourth Formula 1 World Championship, not learning how to change diapers or feed a baby.

Your thoughts vanished when the door opened abruptly, startling you. Seb appeared with his suit hanging at his waist, hair completely tousled, and a face revealing worry matching the situation you haven’t told him about yet.

"Sunshine! Britta told me you’re not well. What happened? Do you want to go to the doctor? I don’t care about missing the free practice: you’re the most important thing."

The German quickly took your cheeks in his hands. You hadn’t even sat up, and he was already trying to warm your face with his palms, moving it from side to side and examining you as if he was a doctor with the solution to your problems.

"I’m fine, love, relax," you said, breaking free from his grip.

"I know you better than I’d like, Y/N. You’re pale," he pointed out. "You rarely get pale. The last time I saw you like this was when the police chased us after they caught you doing an illegal concert in the school square."

Your anxiety grew more at his perception. You couldn't hide the lie you concocted with Hanna for much longer.

"Seb, really, I’m fine," you insisted, swallowing hard as you tried to find the right words.

He didn't seem to agree with your answer once again, and he didn't seem willing to let it go easily.

For a moment, you were tempted to tell him the truth, especially when you noticed his eyes fixed on you, not intending to look away until he found out what you really wanted to say… As if he wants to know that he was going to be a father next January if your gynecologist’s calculations and the latest technology were correct.

You mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. His concern overwhelmed you completely. When he made a move to hug you and you fell into his arms, you knew you couldn't keep dodging the truth.

"Seb…" you started to say, slowly pulling away from him, "the truth is that... well, there's something wrong."

He clenched his jaw and got very serious.

"Tell me, Y/N. Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."

"I know, love. I want to tell you everything, but…" you began calmly, your voice breaking. "This is different, and it’s going to be a bit difficult."

"What do you mean by different and difficult? Y/N, what’s going on?"

Your hands fidgeted nervously as you tried to find the best way to cause him the least harm possible. You noticed that the German's nervous and worried tone had dissipated, and now it was anger that seemed to be consuming him.

"I want to tell you, but I don’t know how to do it without hurting you," you admitted in a whisper.

There it was, you had let it slip.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you decided to wait for Sebastian’s response. Anguish had taken hold of him, and you knew he was waiting for your words as much as you were waiting for his.

His behavior wasn’t helping you; on the contrary, the feeling of guilt was consuming you, as you had foreseen, but there was no turning back now.

It was impossible for you to even think coherently enough to say something that made sense.

You watched as your boyfriend’s gaze turned into pure pain, a pleading search for answers that you didn’t dare to give him.

"Seb…" you spoke again, struggling to maintain your composure and reaching for his hand at the same time. "I need you to listen to me, please."

"I just want you to tell me the truth, Y/N," he called you by your full name. That was the indicator that things weren’t going well and wouldn’t be again. "Whatever it is, I’ll be able to deal with it."

"I don’t want us to be together anymore," you declared. "I’m not in love with you anymore. I haven’t been for about a month or so."

The silence that flooded the room after your false confession was too uncomfortable. His eyes filled with tears; yours did too, but for a different reason than his.

He thought you had stopped loving him when, in fact, you loved him more than ever, especially now.

"Why are you telling me this? Why, Y/N?" he wanted to know. "I thought we were great… I really believed we were better than ever."

"I don’t know, Seb," you murmured between sobs, trying to hide your face so he wouldn’t see how truly affected you were. "There are… there are couples that stop loving each other, and that’s what I think has happened with me. With us."

"What can I do to make you fall in love with me again? I can’t lose you. I can’t lose the sunshine of my life, not when we promised each other a life together."

"You can’t do anything, Seb, and I’m really sorry," you falsely admitted with sadness, trying not to succumb to his desperate plea.

"Sometimes things stop being what they were in the beginning, and, well… ours is no longer what it used to be."

"Of course, it’s not what it used to be! Everything was getting better until you decided to drop this on me, Y/N!" Sebastian yelled at you.

"I was even going to ask you if you wanted us to get…"

"And that’s why I feel it’s better if we move on, but each on our own path!" you interrupted with another shout.

It’s not real, Y/N. Everything you’re saying is a lie.

You inhaled and exhaled more times than you would have liked, but it felt necessary. This charade to try to make Seb’s life a little better was not only costing you your relationship but also your mental health in the long run.

"Is there someone else, Y/N?"

Vettel's voice denoted anger. Rage consumed him at the possibility that there was an answer he didn’t want to hear. His fists, clenched tightly and turning his knuckles white, were proof of it.

"No, not exactly."

And once again, the camouflaged truth.

"What are you saying?" he spat at you, getting closer and closer, consumed by anguish.

"I mean not exactly, but… yes. There is someone else, Seb," you admitted.

The shouts, full of reproaches, insults, and slurs, flooded the room.

You tried to turn a deaf ear. You thought this was all part of a performance and tried to convince yourself that in the future, everything would be fine when you knew it would be the opposite.

"How could you do this to me, Y/N?! How could you cheat on me after almost seven fucking years together?!" Sebastian shouted, taking out his anger on a vase on his desk, throwing it to the ground, spilling the water and the flowers he had given you just a day ago.

"We’ve been through so many things together. We’ve grown up together and fulfilled our dreams together, and now you’re leaving me for some guy you must have slept with on a whim?!"

"Do you think this is easy for me, Sebastian?" you replied, your words true for once. "Stop lying, okay? The only person who has fulfilled their dreams here is you," you said, showing your disagreement on that topic that you knew hurt you and that he had mentioned to hurt you. "While you’ve been living your life as a driver and being the center of attention, I’ve kept working in the same disgusting bar full of creepy old men I’ve been working at since I finished high school," you shouted, furious. You knew this kind of stress wasn’t good for the baby, but right now you didn’t care. "I’ve been saving as much as I could to build a prosperous future even though my salary was a pittance, composing songs and singing them with the hope that they’ll reach someone someday and not be forgotten."

"I’ve told you a million times that you don’t need to work in that fucking bar full of drunk old men who fuck you with their eyes to have a good life," he protested, now much calmer. "With what they pay me we can live comfortably. It's more than enough for both of us."

"I know," you responded calmly, though you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, "but I also know that I can achieve things on my own without anyone’s help."

The blonde let out an ironic laugh. Immediately, he crossed his arms, lifted his head, and looked at you.

"You’ve always been too stubborn, Y/N. Now I see what your future expectations are. After all, I understand: if you never got into the Berlin Art Academy on your own, and you’re still working at the same place after so long…"

You stood still, not knowing what to say or do because you knew exactly what he meant with every word that came out of his mouth. It felt like your feet were cemented to the ground; his words continuously hitting you, wanting to hurt you more and more.

"How dare you to say that to me?"

If you were already shaken and almost broken after this whole conversation, now you were completely sunk. Seeing your reaction, tears streaming down your cheeks non-stop, he seemed to regret it.

Quickly, he approached you, opening his arms intending for you to bury yourself in them. You, as stubborn as he said you were, refused not only the hug but any physical and non-physical contact he wanted to have with you.

"Y/N, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to say that," yes, that was clear, but it had already been said, and the damage was done. "I was wrong. Please forgive me."

No matter how much he kept talking, trying to apologize and make amends, there was nothing else to do.

Without saying anything else, you began to gather all your belongings from the driver’s room of who could now be considered your ex-boyfriend. You didn’t want to do it; you didn’t want to start the zero-contact phase with the boy you had loved since you were ten years old, the one who had loved you like no one ever had before and like no one ever would.

You were saying goodbye to the father of your child to venture into raising her alone so he could pursue his dream in peace and achieve all the successes he so longed for.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

“Packing. I’m leaving.”

Your eyes were fixed on the floor, your hands fumbling with the few belongings left to pack in the small backpack you usually took to the paddock. Now, you would have to return to your hotel room and quickly pack everything into the suitcase, rush to the airport, and pray you didn’t miss the flight.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” the blonde frowned, incredulous. “It’s Friday, Y/N, we have the whole weekend ahead of us.”

“Well, from now on, you’ll have all the weekends to yourself,” you shook your head, unable to bear his comments trying to make you stay. “From now on, you won’t have me here on weekends, nor in your life. I’m leaving your life, and I’m not coming back,” you repeated, emphasizing the finality of your words.

Vettel was speechless at your declaration. He kept shaking his head, approaching you, trying to take your belongings, but you stopped him.

No matter how much you wanted to, you weren’t going to stay.

“What do you mean by ‘leaving my life and not coming back’?”

“It means I’m going back to Heppenheim, Sebastian,” you turned to him, trying to maintain composure. “I’m going back, you’ll also end up going back even though we live… you live in Switzerland,” you immediately corrected yourself, “but I hope we never see each other again.”

The firmness behind your words scared you. Everything was a lie that, as the conversation progressed, had grown until you doubted what was real and what wasn’t.

“I really hope you achieve everything you are working hard for,” you continued, insisting to yourself not to break down right there. “I hope you win the championship this year and get the four consecutive ones you’ve wanted for. You, more than anyone, deserve all of it, and I know you’re capable of that and much more.”

You said nothing more because you had stopped being strong. You left, without looking back, the room where you had spent much more time than imaginable, and one of the many places that made up the story starring Sebastian Vettel and you.

You carefully descended the stairs. You walked with a false sense of security through the RedBull garage, dodging any questions about why you were crying, where you were going, and if you had argued with the team’s golden boy, including the endless questions from Britta Roeske that you were trying to ignore at all costs.

You felt curious eyes following you wherever you went, but you didn’t care in the slightest. It was all done.

Now, it was just you and the little pea, or whatever size the baby was.

“Y/N, wait!”

Sebastian’s desperate shouts echoed behind you, getting closer.

You stopped dead, clutching the only strap of the backpack hanging over your shoulder. You slowly turned toward the direction the voices seemed to be coming from and saw the driver running to you, almost choking, as he wiped tears from his cheeks and even those still falling from his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

His voice was choked, and his hands acted on their own. Still, it didn’t stop him from taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, where you tasted each other’s tears as you had done many times in your relationship. Where you silently said millions of I love yous that only you and he knew perfectly.

“Please, don’t go, sunshine,” the German expressed. “Whatever it is, we can work on it, but please, don’t let us end.”

“I love you too, Seb, but there’s someone else.”

You finally confessed… not in the most ideal way, but in the right one, especially considering what your goal was after all this trail of lies.

“There’s a new person in my life, and I’m afraid to say that no matter how much I love you, I love them more than I love you, and I always will,” you continued, knowing that every word you were saying about your baby was true. “I love you, Sebastian Vettel, and I’ll never stop loving you, but that person is my main priority right now.”

“Have you been unfaithful?”

Sometimes silence is worth more than a thousand words. In this case, it was the exact opposite.

You stood in front of him for a few seconds, debating internally whether to answer or leave as calmly as possible, without attracting more attention than you already had. You decided on the latter because you couldn’t speak, and the tears wouldn’t let you see clearly; not to mention your judgment was so clouded that you couldn’t think clearly about the next step to end this nightmare.

You finally directed one last look at Seb; whispered that you loved him and always would, even though it was over between you.

All it took was for you to lower your head, turn around, and continue walking, fighting not to look back, to realize that you had made the biggest mistake of your life and would never, for anything in the world, be able to forgive yourself.

And you knew perfectly well that Seb wouldn’t either.

[lieutenantselnia]

Thank you for the tag! <3

5 songs I (currently) like to listen to:

Sabaton - Dreadnought

Powerwolf - Demons Are A Girl's Best Friend

Hans Zimmer - One Day

SIX - Get Down

Hamilton - Guns and Ships

Tagging @assortedvillainvault, @leibi97 and @selenestrickler (no pressure though!) and anyone else who wants to :)

I was tagged by @swannposting to post 5 songs that I like to listen to. ♡

HUNTER - SiedeM

Rob Zombie - The Ballad Of Resurrection Joe And Rosa Whore

KAT - Odi Profanum Vulgus

Plaga - Śmierć Cieplna Wszechświata

Deftones - The Chauffeur (2005 Remaster)

No pressure tags: @youremyfriend-youremymission, @penniesxdimes, @lieutenantselnia, @barbossas-wench , @ellena-asg & anyone else who wants to join!

[allthekingssmut]

She's Rough And Coarse And Gets Everywhere

Jeon Heejin - Male Reader Word Count - 7.5k (2.2K) Tags: Rough Sex, Coarse Language and only trace amounts of sand... hopefully.

A/N: Welcome to Sandstorm 2: Electric Boogaloo, aka the reboot but not really since the original didn't happen. Which unfortunately means you're stuck with me. All joke's aside, this started as a anniversary present for Flint, which looking at the date... is pretty fucking late lol. Anyway, super big thanks to @nsfwflint for helping my rookie ass out and just being a cool dude all-round.

God, it is hot, a thought you trace as you find yourself nestled in the dark, dingy corner of Chalmun's Cantina. Even over the roar of crashing glasses and seedy elements, it always feels like your home away from home.

It helps that the music is decent.

Still, you can pick out a familiar guttural bark through the swells of liquor and hazy smoke.

"Shouldn't you be at work, kid?"

Chalmun.

His fingers flex and tug at his grey handlebar mustache... Can Wookiees even have mustaches? A lie pulls at the edge of your lips, tempting as it might be, but you know better.

"I-Uh, yeah," your teeth chew at the inside of your cheek. "Yeah, I should be."

"Do I need to remind you of the deal?"

You roll your eyes, something you hope he doesn't quite see or understand. "I get to freeload as much as I want as long as I help out Heejin."

"Which you are..."

"Not doing," a resigned sigh whispers past your lips. "I get it, I get it, it's just really hot in the garage."

Not a complete lie.

There's a flicker of an annoyed snarl that plays across his features, a hint of worry lingers in your gut. A deep inhale sets him at ease, a smile tickles across his lips.

"One would think you're not used to the twin suns of Tatooine," you feel his firm grip against your shoulder, raw and brutishly animalistic. "Odd, considering you've lived here your whole life."

A thumb bounces against his lip almost playfully in thought.

"Or perhaps something else is making it hard to focus and unbearably hot?"

He is right, there is no point doing it. Fight as you must, your brain lingers where it shouldn't. Her taut, sweat-soaked abs, the swell of her hips barely hidden by her jumpsuit.

You feel the greeting of cold glass against your skin, a bottle of liquor offered to your hand.

"Maybe this will help with the heat."

-

Despite your claims, the garage provides a welcome respite from familiar heats. The squelch of sand gives way to rigid metal.

"Is that you, Gogglehead?" Her voice echoes from deeper within, no doubt immersed in your work.

Pop the bottle, take a swig, cool off.

Focus up if you can.

The liquor saunters through every nerve, syrupy and sweet.

Kowakian rum. 

Maybe it will help, if only to make you regret your existence tomorrow.

"Yeah, stopped off at Chalmun's for a drink," your feet dot around a corner, seeking her familiar tortuous figure. "Do you want some?"

You catch the faintest outline of her voice, her feet dangling out of the chassis, a tangled mess of wires and cords, the wiggle of her ass taunts you with an enticing sway.

Her back arches back with the swivel of her gaze. A furrowed crease lingers on her brow.

"I can't seem to get the pod to start."

You press two firm fingers into your temple, as it seems you now have two reasons to drink today.

Your tongue tastes the edge of your teeth with a stinging annoyance. "That's because I removed the thrust coil."

There's a flare of annoyance dotting each step towards you, the dance of a scoff against her lips. "I thought I told you the thrust coil was fine."

Her pointed finger prods at your chest, still, it's hard to ignore the slight hint of cleavage in her tube top.

Wait, were those your goggles?

The briefest touch sparks in your brain with a subtle intoxication, a want for more.

Her voice lingers in the air, the low huskiness is captivating even in spite of her irritated parlance.

A slow release of air is all you can manage.

Focus.

"Yeah, technically. Except it wasn't fitted properly for the cooling pump."

All this talk of thrusts and pumps isn't helping.

"Which, as you know, would make the engine blow."

A stressed huff is all that escapes her lips, fingers dancing across her temples as her eyes crawl shut.

There's a slightly forced smile that splinters across her lips, "What were you asking about again?"

Her lips soften as her eyes adjust over you, reinforced with a proper smile.

The glass bottle almost seems foreign and forgotten at that moment, "Uh, Kowakian Rum."

Her nostrils flare ever so slightly, her lips roil and dance with the idea before an exasperated sigh joins the fray with knotted eyebrows like tangled cablework.

"I'd love some, but I can't."

Huh?

"Excuse me, what?" The words sound more surprised and scornful than you anticipated, dancing in the simmering heat. You offer an arched eyebrow as a consolation. "Could you repeat that?"

Her lips flatten, curving into the tiniest frown.

"I said I'd love to, but I can't."

She stresses the word once again, you catch the flash of an almost cringe-induced grimace.

There's an almost troubled weight to her brow. A far cry from the Heejin you knew with a liquor tab nine pages deep.

You take another swig, almost habitual as the bottle rests in your hand.

"Do I even want to know?"

There's the lingering whispers of embarrassment that echo through her body onto her features, a dejected huff.

"Well, the Boonta Eve Classic is soon."

Your eyebrows knit together in a handshake of confusion.

"Yeah, next week. What's that got to do with today?"

There's the briefest flicker of her tongue against her lips before her teeth bite taut.

Her fingers pinch at the bridge of her nose as she paces.

"It's dumb, but my old coach would make us cut out all our vices before a race."

You offer her an understanding nod before taking another swig.

More for you.

Sweet rum trickles through your lips as a question cradles at the edge of your brow, before placing the bottle against the ground.

"So, like boxers before a fight?"

It would explain why you've been able to find moments away from her at the cantina.

"Yeah, exactly the same."

It's habitual the way your hands work and coast through wires and machinery, a habit you picked up from your father.

"Is that why you've been a bit…" Your hands struggle through the mess wrought by Heejin's handiwork, locked seals and knotted wires.

"Of a bitch?" She scoffs, a scowl burns across her face.

"Not the words I would've used," your eyes dance across the sandy brown ceiling. "Passionate, maybe?"

You catch the edge of a laugh, hidden by the roll of her eyes. Her laughter ripples with a melodic spring that dances and bounces against the tension that once hung thick in the air.

Still, there's something else that crinkles against your skin, a scintillating static that teases thoughts best left unsaid.

They're unprofessional, to say the least.

Yet, your eyes linger against Heejin, leaving the task at hand forgotten and abandoned. You swear she feels it too, if only for a second.

"Passionate, huh?" There's a flash of amusement that twinkles in her eyes. It twists slowly under your gaze before her eyes narrow, her voice drops lower with its husky richness, almost tauntingly. "Chalmun said you had a mouth on you."

There's something about the way that word rolls off her tongue, the coy dance as she moves closer.

Yet, she says nothing of it, of the deeper insinuation that lingers against your brain. Instead, her hands move with practiced precision, deftly manipulating wires and connectors, untangling the mess she'd left you with.

It's a practice you're used to with other clients. Why should you undo their missteps? Yet, there's a sensual grace to her movements, a fluidity that reminds you that she isn't a slouch in the mechanic department.

Yet, your brain lingers on the other applications such grace could be used for.

She pauses, taken by a sudden thought. There's the flicker of a smirk as she turns to you. "Being a little rough, or even bold, is more my style."

You lean against the nearby workbench, watching her continue to work in silence for a moment. You quickly find the rum in your hand once again, the cool liquid soothes your parched throat, but it does nothing for the simmering heat that lingers in your mind.

Your eyes never leave her taunting sweat-soaked figure, the lingering taste of rum on your tongue only intensifies your imagination and longing.

The question bites at your lips before you can even stop it.

"So, cutting out vices, huh?" You finally respond, your voice rich and huskier than you intended, betraying the thoughts that lingered. "Does that mean no late-night�� indulgences of any kind?"

Heejin looks up at you, her gaze meeting yours, a flicker of intrigue glimmering in her eyes. She pauses for a brief moment, as if weighing her response, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

"Well, let's just say that focus and discipline are essential before a race," she says, her voice lower, carrying a sensual edge that carves a shiver down your spine. "But let's just say all this talk of pumps and thrust isn't helping me with my frustrations."

The innuendo in her words hangs heavy in the air, weaving a web of temptation that becomes harder to resist. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the air between you charged with an undeniable chemistry.

Your gaze lingers on her as she continues working, her body moving with a seductive grace that seems to draw you in closer. The image of her sweat-soaked jumpsuit clings to her curves, amplifying the allure she exudes. The desire to reach out and touch her becomes almost overwhelming, but you fight to maintain composure.

As you approach her, your voice is laced with a mixture of desire and restraint. "Tell you what, when we win, I'll buy you as many drinks as you want."

Heejin's eyes darken slightly, her fingers pausing momentarily in their task. A smile plays at the edge of her lips, tossing and turning. She leans closer to you, her breath caressing your ear as she whispers, "Don't let your mouth write checks you can't cash, Gogglehead."

Her fingers play at your collar, a twinkling mischievous glint in her eye.

The suggestive implication hangs in the air, leaving your senses reeling. It takes all your self-control to keep your composure as the sexual tension between you and Heejin becomes nearly palpable.

With a knowing smile, you take a step back, forcing yourself to break away from the electrifying energy that crackles between you. "Let's focus up. We can't win if the pod isn't working in the first place."

Heejin's eyes follow your movement, a mix of longing and frustration flickering in her gaze. She bites her lip, as it falters, pushed back by the need for victory or perhaps something else?

A twitch of a smile lingers.

-

Tension hangs sticky and thick like the sweat that clings desperately to your overalls, there’s an anxious pace to your movements. Each wire, each connector, and every intricate detail weigh heavily on your mind and body, with ache and strain.

One small misstep spells defeat... or perhaps even worse.

As soon as the pod leaves the garage, it’s out of your hand. Heejin is no slouch, unless something catastrophically wrong happens... She can handle it. 

Something you need to remind yourself of.

Yet, even as the days quickly blur together, there is a... weird nonchalance to her. That isn't the right word.

Calm and collected. 

Unnerving. 

At least compared to the itchy stressed friction you have grown accustomed to, though perhaps it is just her storied experience kicking in. 

Even if she has been out of the saddle for a bit. 

Still, it does nothing to settle your own worries.

“You know someone would think you’re the one racing Gogglehead,” her voice dances with a teasing playfulness. Even as you scan over the engine for the umpteenth time, you can practically see the smirk that plays on her soft lips—

Focus up.

“I-” How do you say you worry? That maybe it’s not so bad working with someone who isn’t useless an- “I just don’t want you blaming me if you lose.”

It's cocky the way her teeth flare, as her eyes look you up and down. A scoff echoes from her lips, the thought simply unimaginable. "And here I was thinking you were worrying about me."

Her fingers play at the collar of your jumpsuit, and it's hard to ignore the heat that builds  with her touch. The way electricity hums under your skin as she steps closer, pushing into your space with an ease she only knows.

"Plus..." she whispers, and you feel each syllable brush against your skin, it’s light yet tempting all the same, pushing you with coaxing waves towards the edge.

The worry is almost an afterthought as her hand crests your hip. Her voice dips to a sultry, soft, husky whisper. "I have something of a good luck charm with me."

It creeps in your chest, the sparks that dance with her touch. You know better, as her lips peak with a smile, taunting and teasing. Still, it's hard to ignore the magic hidden in a magician devious yet charismatic trickery.

You hate the part of your brain that accepts she might be referring to you. Her taunts and jabs, a way to ease the tension that builds under her skin without indulgence.

It stings, as you bite your tongue, fighting the pull she has. You roll your eyes, step back, hand grasping a cloth to wipe away sweat and grease that mar your skin.

It's easier to breathe without her held in your gaze, your mind clears against her temptation. Still, you can't help but feel the heat that lingers thick in the air with her mere presence.

"Yeah, and what's this good luck charm?" you bite the bait, it's unwitting and against your character as your eyes stray back towards her plunging back into the thick heat.

Her lips brighten with that beautiful smile that pulls you deep and tugs at your core. 

You almost miss when she is insufferable in a different way.

Still, there's a weird softness that flickers briefly on her lips, burning into her eyes for haunting microseconds. Your brain begs to understand what it means, if there is more under the surface. 

But it quickly fades, a nameless speck of sand lost in an ocean.

She pulls out a familiar object, your eyebrows knit together—when did she?

"Really? My goggles?"

Your keepsake, your namesake, has been an afterthought against the heated hours in the garage. Too focused on the pod as a way to ignore the temptations that linger on the horizon.

She cocks her head to the side, the flare of her teeth with a scrunch of her nose tells you everything. Your reaction is priceless to her. To be fair, you completely forget about them in the ebb and flow of your conversation last week.

Still, there's a flit of actual happiness that plays on her lips, curving into a brief yet genuine smile.

You remember the hazy conversations from weeks long past, held in the drunken allure of the Cantina. A confession of vulnerability on your part, held together with liquor and a rare interest in you.

Your father's goggles.

Your good luck charm.

Yet, it means nothing to her, should mean nothing to her. The contradictions to your thoughts and assumptions linger on the sparks that twinkle in her eyes.

Her words are fuel to the fire.

"Of course~" her voice saunters with a teasing edge., flickering against the embers of something more. "A reminder of all the free drinks you'll owe me."

Her words poke and prod, flecked with a flirtatious taunt. Yet there's something that hums deep at the base of her voice, it twists with words unspoken. 

Perhaps you're putting too much value on yourself in her eyes? 

Yet it bounces and lodges in your brain, her own hushed worry.

The idea that you'd be with her, at least in spirit or a reminder of who to win for.

You catch the hitch of a smirk that scatters across her lips, the wind-up for another remark or jab.

"Plus, I can't wait to see all your winnings disappear on my tab."

A groan leaves your lips before you can stave it off, perhaps you are just her mechanic. A damn good one, mind you. Hell, you'd dare to say one of the best.

At least on Tatooine.

"Yeah, yeah." Your hands are already smoothing out the last details with the Pod, closing hatches and double-checking connectors. Your hands stray and drift, placing your goggles on her head. "Just make sure to bring those back, okay?"

Again, there's that flare of softness that beckons at the edge of her eyes as she looks up at you.

A weird tenderness clings in the air, it's vapid and calming. An entirely different beast to the charged and heated air you often share.

"I'd hate to come up with a different nickname for you after all."

-

The aftermath is a storm of its own kind, a mess of sweltering heat in Mos Espa's Grand Arena, charged with tense excitement.

It's violent and sudden, like a crash of thunder to the chest. Your human eyes aren't able to keep up with the sudden burst of sand that trails through the arena.

The roar of the crowd, akin to a gunshot breaking through the air, is the only evidence the race is over.

There's a hum of worry that lingers in your lungs, shoulders tense with an anxious weight. Your hand grips at Chalmun's shoulder, his fur jitters underneath your touch.

A roar tears through the air, a simple guttural howl, animalistic and excited.

Heejin would've probably asked you what he said.

A cheer of excitement, elation... but also smugness? You watch as his eyes dart towards the Hutt Clan's private box, the lavish adornments are lost on you as you catch a pained, scorned look echo across the Hutt's face.

You don't need to know Huttese to know someone is going to get fired.

Chalmun's energy is infectious as he grips your shoulders, lost in the throes of victory he shakes you violently.

Pain twitches through you as the world becomes a blur, yet even with the pain, your brain is focused only on her, the small speck in the distance putting on a show.

Flared waves of sand make it all the harder to pick her out through her victory laps.

Still, you can imagine her smile all the same.

-

It's unnerving, the chill bustle of the night air that saunters through Mos Eisley. Even through the thick haze of laughter, celebrations, and intoxication.

Chalmun's is your home away from home, normally you'd be in the thick of merriment, a sly attempt at free drinks. But something is missing... and you're hesitant to acknowledge it.

Have you been so caught up in the insinuation, the allure of her words that you've actually fallen for them?

...No, you're just tired.

Probably.

Still, you owe yourself a drink at the very least, a chance to join the revelry. After all, it is a rare thing for the Cantina to be filled with fewer of the more rambunctious and unsavory types you've known all your life.

You wave at Ackmena, two fingers a signal for your usual. She smiles, moving with a comforting warmth. If only she could work day shifts instead of Wuher.

Your drink slides over, punctuated with a wink.

"Thank-" the drink is gone in a flash, snapped up in a blur and returned with a slam.

Empty.

Some of the more usual behavior you're used to. A scowl licks at your teeth, your fist clenches tensed with an eagerness to make amends.

"You mind telling me why?" You ask, twisting around prepared to deck the dumbas-

Heejin or at the very least a beautiful woman in her shape and mannerism. The flare of teeth that takes pleasure in your reaction gives it away.

But fuck is she breath-taking, you mean no slight towards her usual appearance. If anything, there is a unique allure to the messy sweat-soaked and grease-smattered appearance that you've grown used to.

Replaced, draped in a luxurious fur coat that almost mocks Chalmun's usual patrons if it didn't enhance her already enrapturing allure. Her black crop top taunts you with the flare of her abs and soft curves aided by her black shorts and leather boots.

Her skin is no longer a teasing insinuation in your unfocused moments, rather a full-fledged suggestion for desire to latch on to, tooth and claw.

A girl out on the prowl through Coruscant's tempestuous nightlife, if you didn't know any better.

Her grin creases into a smirk, because oh god, you're staring and she knows.

It's hard not to, even with the flare of obnoxious confidence that glitters in her eyes.

Any words you have die in your throat, assailed by her charm.

Her tongue flits across her lips with a seductive grace, how would it feel against you in every sense of the word?

"If I'm not mistaken, someone promised me drinks." It's tantalizing the way she pulls herself close to you, lips hovering against your ear. "I intend to get my fill."

It's paradoxical the way you feel underdressed and yet overdressed for your desires. Heat prickles at the nape of your neck, your body's insinuation for how much you stick out, your jumpsuit mere rags in her company.

You knew you didn't, hoped you didn't. Yet it's hard to focus on logic when she lingers so close to you, her short hair tickling your skin.

Her proximity teeters on the edge of electric and intoxicating.

You're thankful your mind lingers on a memory, brief and fluttering, a passing conversation to ease the heat that settles in your core.

"Why the short hair?" An attempt at idle chit-chat before liquor loosened you up to conversation.

"My coach suggested it, said it'd get in the way." An oddly straightforward answer for the racer, you didn't know better back then.

You still remember the touch of her fingers as she leant closer, eyes focused, her voice dropping low to that tauntingly low husky whisper. "When fighting, racing, or fucking."

The grip of her hand pulls you back, calloused yet soft. You can feel the whisper of a smile, her breath tickling your cheek.

"Show me how you do it," her voice saunters like honey dripping with seductive sweetness, you cling to her words against the overwhelming bustle of a busy cantina. "Teach me."

It's hard to ignore the heat that builds, you know she's talking about slipping an order to Ackmena. But you can't help stiffen under the insinuation that haunts and tempts you.

You can practically see the pleasure that would quiver across her lips, tempting her to aid you.

A dry swallow is all you can manage to fight off the thought, a temporary fix.

She follows your guiding touch, moving with an almost uncharacteristic soft tentativeness. "Just like that?"

You swear you catch her breath hitch when your hand clasps against hers, pushing her fingers into place with unintended roughness.

A rare moment of catching her flat-footed, yet the moment drifts away like sand between your fingers before you can pounce.

A firm hand binds your wrists together.

Tork, Chalmun's bouncer.

"Boss needs the both of you in his office, pronto," his voice booms, despite his overwhelming stature and size, a small dumb animalistic fleck of your brain is tempted with the idea of a brawl.

Thankfully, Heejin moves first, slipping her hand out of his grip with spry ease. "We'll be there right away."

She smiles, the soft disarming smile you almost don't see anymore. Earning her a soft nod from the pale blue bouncer.

She shuffles slightly, straightening out her clothes.

"Wouldn't want to ruin a perfectly good day for him."

Tork only grunts in response before guiding you both through labyrinthine sandstone backrooms, the rooms twist and turn with each step before you find yourself in front of familiar doors.

Familiar is a generous term, only having seen them once when you were a kid. Your heart prickles with anxiety at the thought.

You're surprised when the door opens softly, his familiar brown fur gesturing for you to come inside.

You inch forward, your blood thrumming in your veins. You take in the dimly lit office, a timeless recreation from your youth. Your gaze falls upon the wall of blasters and you can feel their powerful presence.

You can still practically taste the freshly heated air, cooked with blaster fire. A fragment that haunts you from years long since past.

Still you push through, nudging Heejin away from the small inviting coffee table opposite his desk, the plush decorative rug stained with years old coffee hints at its sinister nature.

You didn’t want to see another victim, let alone Heejin of all people.

She falls in line with your touch, trusting your guidance. As Chalmun moves with a frenetic pace, a giddiness that keeps him moving.

Though you doubt Heejin could see the nuances when it comes to the Wookie.

"I wish I'd been alerted to your presence sooner," he smiles through his guttural barks. "My friends should only drink the finest liquor."

He rummages through cabinets and containers with a rough ferocity.

You roll your eyes, a smile twists across your lips. "Here I was thinking it was something bad. You can't get Tork to tell us you want to reward us?"

You catch a sigh of relief from Heejin at your words.

"Please, boy, where is the fun in that?" He beams a well-placed smile as he produces two familiar bottles. "I deserve some fun despite your efforts."

"I doubt you brought us here just for two bottles of Kowakian rum... even for a little bit of fun on your end."

"Of course not, make yourself at home, away from the riff-raff and her adoring fans." Mischief dances in his eyes as he steps closer, twisting the flare of a smirk against his lips. "I have a Sabacc game to get to, an attempt by the slugs to regain their honor."

"Alright, boss." Your eyebrows twitch, unsure of what he's playing at or for. He moves with confidence, shuffling past you towards the door.

There's a moment of hesitance as he turns back to you for the briefest second. "Just don't make too much of a mess."

"What was that about?" She asks, head tilting to the side with less than subtle curiosity. The Wookie becomes nothing but an afterthought, a fading ember in your isolated presence with Heejin.

"Oh," you turn to her, biting your lip. "He just wanted us to make ourselves comfortable and enjoy his private stock."

Even in the dim light born from the single illumination panel behind the desk, you can pick out the way her eyes narrow. Her lips purse, teasing on the edge of a question. "What about that last thing? It seemed pointed at you."

Her voice hums with something foreign, at least to your interactions.

Worry?... No, that doesn't seem right. Her nature, her confidence forbids the very idea. No, it's something else that dances tauntingly at the tip of your tongue.

"Relax, it was nothing, Heej," the nickname rolls off your tongue before you can even stop it, you watch as it lingers in the air, moving with a sauntering slowness. Your brain jostles with awkward apologies that die in your thoughts before finally it lands.

Square in her chest, judging from the swell of her smile.

"You don't have to call me that, you know?" there's a warmth that's strange on her lips, a flicker of softness as her eyes linger on you. "It's nice, though."

Her feet shuffle, shifting under the weight of vulnerability. She develops a sudden interest in everything, except for you. Unable to build up the courage to look you in the eye.

To speak plainly too, apparently. A rare silence fills the void in conversation.

A smile bubbles to your lips, you should cut her some slack, offer her a life ring. "We were gonna drink, weren't we?"

Your words cobble together the version of Heejin you're used to, fluttering eyelashes and teasing smirks.

She preens under your gaze with a sultry swipe of her tongue across her lips. Each movement is enticing, weighed heavy with calculated seduction.

The sway of her ass buzzes with a tantalizing edge, pushing into your space with a graceful twirl. "Yes, we were."

Your baser instincts beg for permission, to indulge her in her attempts. To feel your hands carve into her taut, firm ass as you take her. 

It's hard to ignore the stiffening desire that stirs in your loins, her hand traces your chest pushing you back into the hardwood desk.

A smirk blooms across her lips, dancing with the often-times obnoxious confidence you'd grown to love to hate. It's hard to resist the tug, the control she has over you. 

The only defense, the only respite you can manage is found in a bottle of Kowakian rum. 

Syrupy sweet indulgence.

Her hand brushes over your bottle-held grasp, coaxing it out of your grasp into the embrace of her lips. She's less than subtle, as the liquor spills from her lips, trickling in enticing rivulets down her chin.

A knowing wink, pulls you deeper as she continues to imbibe; desperate to get her fill. Awe and admiration bubbles underneath your skin as she throws back the bottle and all of its contents.

The bottle slams against the desk, a devilish grin burns across her lips. She looks up at you, cheeks flushed with liquor that lingers on her every breath.

Her tongue plays against her lips, her eyes sparkle with a flash of insight, a realization.

Her teeth tense against her bottom lip, as the air cackles with tension, heavy and sweltering.

A flash of resignation, as words leave her lips.

"So," her voice drips with a hungry, ravenous need that you didn't need to hear, you could already feel it. The soft ministration of her hand against your clothed cock. "Are we gonna fuck or what?"

Gone is the pretense, replaced with a desperate gnawing need for her fill. It's intoxicating the way her lips quiver and crack against raw primal hunger.

Your hands crest her hair, soft and delicate as a wry smirk bounces across her lips. Her eyes settle on yours, beaming with anticipation and an unmistakable craving that eagerly awaits your command.

Her head tilts back, her silky locks spilling around her face in waves of delight.

A gasp shatters with a moan as your calloused hand tugs her hair, pulling her closer into your embrace. Her breath hitches and floats on the edge of another moan as you press against her contours.

You take your time savoring each sensation, the heat searing through the air as though it were tangible. Your mouth burns against her neck, leaving bruises that smolder in your wake. Each cinder pushes a smile against her, each ember pulls a purr into her throat.

Your cock is an afterthought against the hazy pleasure that twists and churns in the back of your skull. It aches and yearns, an animalistic need to consume her in your roaring flames, reduce her to an ash that knows only your name.

It's instinctual, the way your hands wander and rove over her body, teasing and taunting in equal measure as you whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

"You weren't kidding," a smirk hangs on your lips between flame-licked bruises. You lock your fingers through her hair, hungrily drawing her tight, clawing a soft whimper from her throat. Your hand trickles down her back with playful fingertips, haunting the edge of her hip before finally carving into her ass with a voracious slap. "Rough is definitely your style."

A flash of shock sparks against her features, eyes wide and mouth jar before it shifts into a hungry, carnal smile as her eyes latch tight to yours. She had no escape, but you doubt she'd want to.

You catch the turn of gears, a witty comeback in the making. Yet, you're too focused on the way her supple, taut ass feels against your hand. Your fingers teeter on the edges of her hips, creeping along the divot of her abs, plucking at the button of her short with a teasing flare.

Her words are shaky, barely discernible against the soft moans that escape her lips, blooming into a whiney drawn out fuck, as your fingers snake through her shorts and past her underwear.

Holy fuck is she wet.

A desperate quiver ripples across her lips strengthened with each passionate caress, her throat hums begging for more as your fingers slide into her slick heat, a flooded river of anticipation.

Your mouth clashes with hers, hot and frenzied as the air sizzles with passion. Her tongue crashes against yours, a carnal dance that leaves you gasping for more.

A tug of her hair earns a breathy honeyed moan as a smile twists across her lips, cocky and headstrong. Slowly it fades shifting with the guidance of your pleasure soaked fingers bucking against her sweet spot.

Any thoughts, any words jumble and die in her throat, replaced with a whispered please. Ecstasy ignites like a wildfire across her face tightening into a low whine as you hold her just shy of the precipice.

Her hips buck with a desperate plea, begging for release in the hazy mist of pleasure.

Yet, something fights within her at the edge of her lips, a small defiant fragmented shard.

Her hand caresses your cock, no longer a forgotten afterthought in your pursuit. She purrs as she strokes at your clothed length.

"I think someone deserves some attention," her voice dripping with seduction, a husky warmth. A veiled attempt to regain some semblance of control. "Let's see if it was worth all the anticipation~"

Her movements are smooth and focused, still you notice the weak wobble of her knees as she peels away your jumpsuit by the zip. Her fingers dance with an electric spark-filled tension slowly creeping to your boxers.

It's intoxicating the way her tongue flits across her lips as she drops to her knees. Raw hunger bounces across her lips, quivering in anticipation.

Her hands tremble and shake, a small crack in her veneer of confidence.

Her eyes linger and smolder burning with an intensity that threatens to swallow you whole. Her lips part with the slightest breath, her teeth clench tight against her bottom lip, her gaze unflinching as she slowly and deliberately peels away your boxers.

It's delicious and succulent, the surprise that echoes across her features, punctuated with a gasp as your cock smacks against her soft, dewy lips like a thunderclap of passion. The shock sends ripples all the way across her face as it curves around the bridge of her nose and plunges off the edge of her forehead.

A warm hum blooms in her throat, cresting into a pleasure drunk giggle as she nuzzles against your shaft.

"Oh fuck," she whispers her eyes dance along your shaft, the glint of held back fantasies glimmer in her eyes. Her hand pumps and twists across your length, extraditing a moan from your lips with her eagerness. Her breath hitches with a hungry excitement, tickling your shaft in between lovingly pressed kisses. "You should've told me, you had such a... fat cock."

She continues, lost in her ministrations, slowly and tantalizingly drawing out your pleasure as you groan against her soft touch. Yet, you can pluck out the fine line edge she balances on, the sound of slick wetness indulged as she pants heavily slapping her face with your cock. "You could've had me anyway you wanted you know?"

It's a feverish, lavish dance of her tongue around your cock, strung together with a primal and wild urgency, as if she would die if she didn't taste you against her tongue. Her lathered spit slowly christens every inch of your shaft, marking it as her territory.

Her gaze is a siren’s call, inviting you to dive into her depths. Her lips akin to silk as they tease the head of your cock

Her hands guide your own cresting through her hair, a silent encouragement to ravage her without restraint.

The sensation is inescapable, as your throbbing cock slipping past her dewy soft lips, plunging into her depths. You can feel the hum of a depraved smile as she gags and chokes against the sheer length of your cock, unable to fully take you.

It's a sputtering cough that echoes from her lips, hazed with watery eyes as she clutches for air.

"Come on, I can take it," there's a flare of a scowl against her teeth. "Don't be a bitch."

She asked for it.

Your hands tighten in her hair as she sucks and pulls in surprise, sending waves of pleasure shooting to your core. She looks up at you through heavy lidded eyes, smoldering with desire. Her fingers grip tightly around your shaft as her muscles contract around you - a gentle reminder that she will never let you go.

You push further into her until you bottom out, her nose pressed to your navel.

You're fully engulfed in heat and wetness as she begins to moan around you - softly at first, but quickly growing louder with each stroke that bulges at her throat.

Her eyes water, brim and swell against the ravaging pressure. She hums, smiles under your assault as the cascade begins, her own twisted badge of pride.

The sensation is overwhelming; a perfect balance of tightness and wetness as she sucks and gags around you.

The echoing sound of ministrations against her own slick heated desire becomes your guiding rhythm, the tempo only increasing with each gag and choke.

Her knees quiver and tremble as you ravage her throat without restraint, a mere tool in the pursuit of your own pleasure.

It only takes one final thrust, deep and hard to send her careening over the edge into a carnal pleasure-filled abyss. She screams into your lap, her body twitching in clear pleasure as wave after wave of her orgasmic bliss crashes against your shaft.

It's a desperate fight to stay afloat, to ignore the call to unload deep within her throat against the crashing waves of her orgasm, but you're after a sweeter prize.

"Holy fuck," she gasps, a hazy smile etched into her lips, she swipes at the stray messy strands of spit. "That was hot as fuck."

You found it hard to disagree, "You're..."

"Kind of a slut?" she adds, a dulcet whisper against your ear. It's hard to ignore the brimming smile.

"I was gonna say intense."

It's a soft genuine chuckle that saunters through the air. "Thanks, I'll take it."

Her eyes drift over you, her warm gaze a caress. She licks her lips and smirks as she looks at your cock. "A shame you didn't cum, the thought of you plastering my face or swallowing all your cum was so fucking hot."

Her delicate fingers entwined around your cock, massaging it with a gentle rhythm as your heart pounded in anticipation. Her eyes roamed yours before she spoke, her voice husky and full of desire. "I can't wait to feel this inside me."

All it takes is one swift move, as you grip her waist pulling her so intoxicatingly close to you, pressing her hips against the edge of the desk. A surprised giggle bounces from her lips as you pull her shorts and panties down her legs. The air crackles with electricity, you catch her rugged eagerness, as her clothes flutter and splay around Chalmun's office.

She's barely able to pull herself up the edge of the Chalmun's desk as your thick cock brushes against her drenched folds. You can see the sparks of pleasure as her eyes flutter shut, arms snaking around you, pulling you closer into her electric gravity.

Her legs shudder and quake as you push deep into her, her breath frozen in her throat as you push harder and harder, deeper and deeper into her.

The desk creaks-you swear it splinters-as you feel her cunt finally take the full might of your cock. It's in her wordless, breathless moments as her eyes roll back with 

half-lidded desire, that you actually feel it, even through the torrential storm that is her she's-

"-So fucking tight."

Her fingers dig into your shoulders as her nails scrape against your skin, any words she has die, caught in clutched needy gasps. But you can see it in the flickering fire in her eyes, the twist of her devilish smile.

Make a mess, break the desk.

It's a feverish dance, the slow build to a crescendo that threatens to drown you in pure bliss. Each stroke punctuated with a resounding slap, a jiggle of her chest pushing against you as she moans in a guttural tone.

"Fuck me, fuck me," she chants softly, her eyes glued to your cock, a needy slut to your pleasure. Your hand grips tight against her locks pulling her into a messy torrid kiss.

She nuzzles into you, her lips are sloppy against yours as you plunge further and further. Her muscles clench tight against you, a fire burning with each pull, each thrust and soft moan. Her nails bite into your shoulders, drawing blood as she pants heavily against your lips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chants against your lips. 

A strangled moan escapes her throat, the intensity of your thrusts increasing as the pressure builds within you, threatening to burst forth. She cries out with each thrust, the sound of your cock diving into her depths, a melody to her ears.

Her lips part with the slightest of breaths, her tongue darts across her bottom lip, a silent invitation to dive deeper. The feeling is visceral as she clenches every inch of her muscles tight against you, a searing rapture that threatens to swallow you whole.

The feeling is overwhelming; a soft and wet embrace as you plunge deep into her. The tightness of her walls around you, as they pulse and constrict around you.

She's barely holding onto her consciousness, her eyes glued to the way her breasts shake and jiggle as you fuck her senseless.

You find it hard to resist the incessant call to cum, burning with an intensity that threatens to swallow your mind whole. Her moans fall into a steady rhythm as you plunge into her harder and harder.

"Cum," her voice a husky whisper, yet tinged with something more, a tempered unexpected softness. It's real and vibrant even in the haze of pleasure. "I want to feel you."

It's needy and desperate.

The feeling is inescapable, the sensation of her tight and wet around you. She screams in pleasure, a shrill moan that pierces the air around her.

The desperation in her eyes and on her lips as you're pressed together was unmistakable; a clash of teeth and tongue full of longing. You feel the urgent desire that emanates from her, radiating into your lungs with each clawed breath.

It was more than just sex at that moment, as her lips nip at yours and her legs clutch and locked around your waist. You can feel the raw emotion radiating off of her, a feral passion that throbs through your veins.

You can feel every part of her body tremble with pleasure as each kiss deepens further.

Your hands caress her neck, exploring every inch of her skin as she shudders beneath you. You feel like you're losing control, giving into the sensations coursing through both your bodies.

The sounds of pleasure that escape her lips become heavy and desperate as the sensation builds inside of you both, an explosion of heat that threatens to consume you.

She claws at your back, gasping for air between breaths as each thrust sends jolts of pleasure through both your bodies.

Her hips grind against yours, pushing herself further and further towards the brink of insanity. Her voice catches in her throat as she cries out for more, begging for release from the overwhelming sensation within.

"Cum for me," she whispers into your ear, her voice dripping with lust, tarnished by desperate and undeniable need.

It's all you need.

A crash of pleasure rocks your core, electric shocks race up and down your spine as you finish inside of her, launching rope after feverish rope into her depths. A moan catches in her throat, hitching with each decadent spurt as she truly gets her fill. 

"Wow," she opens her misty eyes, her lips curled into a hazy smile. "That was... intense."

The warm air around you is a heavy blanket that settles around you both, a contented and satiated silence that settles against her skin.

"Hey," she nudges you, languid in the afterglow. Still, you catch embers of a teasing smile. "I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"Is this our first date?"

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

How would you rank the characters living under Jack's reign in the bad future from who's having the "best" time vs who's having the worst? (excluding Jack himself obv he's having a good time lol)

6-Hannibal Roy Bean

Being stuck in this undersized, undignified cage and blown up to a size where you can't even move, and labeled as "The Musical Fruit" are all humiliating.

But Hannibal's been locked up for centuries before, so this is hardly going to break his spirit, especially Jack is mortal and getting very old, so it feels like the immortals in the dungeon have this mindset that they can sort of just wait it out.

Granted, Hannibal does look weirdly mishappen and... mushy? So I wonder what exactly Jack has done to his body to make him end up like this.

With how distended and full his lower body looks now, and with the suspicious absence of Hannibal's only companion, I sort of suspect that Jack somehow forcefed Ying-Ying to Hannibal...? But even if that's not the case, the absence of Ying-Ying is another form of torture for him, since that's the only other being who he truly likes.

5-Master Fung

Master Fung is as skilled and untouchable as ever. Moreso in fact, because he seems like he doesn't really get winded by battles anymore. His mind may have dulled somewhat, but his physical form and skill has sharpened with age during the time skip.

The gladiator shows they're forced to put on are miserable for everyone, but none of Jack's bots are able to even scratch Master Fung, and he beats them without a sweat.

He has an easier time against Jack's lion-bots than he did against the real jungle cats, who he also handily beat.

And Master Fung's confusion and memory problems seem to stave off despair, at least. Though he's still having an awful time here.

4-Wuya

Hers is mostly another humiliation thing, but unlike Hannibal's, Wuya's also has this visceral, creepy factor to it. Jack apparently forcibly changed her clothes and did up her hair in accordance to his own taste for cheerleaders, complete with pigtails and his initial.

In addition to that, she's also suspended over a pit of boiled lava. The rising heat from that is probably the physical torture, along with just how uncomfortable the chains are.

But the worst part for Wuya is probably that Jack has somehow stolen the powers that were sealed away from her and is in control of her stone golems now, to add insult to injury. That probably stings more than any aspect of this setup.

3-Le Mime

Also in this gladiatorial thing, but Le Mime's never really been shown to be able to fight and he can't even take a hit from his own scrawny arm. And since he's just cowering here, the lion bots apparently have some way of getting past his Miming, so he can't protect himself behind his invisible walls.

He's got nothing he can do but weather the humiliations and pain of these losing battles.

2- Chase Young

His torture devices is definitely the most intricate.

Water drop torture, stripped of his clothes (including his underwear because those boxers notably aren't Chase's), suspended in this metal contraption with a paintbrush spreading something over his abdomen.

Chase's is also the only torture device that is surrounded by bloodstains.

And he's in a dungeon with Wuya and Hannibal, the people who he'd least want to be trapped with. None of them are gagged, so they both could at least take as many pot-shots at Chase as they wanted to. Those two are better at getting under Chase skin than anyone else, and even though Chase probably shot insults back, it was 2-against-1 there.

And the first and only line we get from Chase implies that he's been on the edge of hope waiting to see Omi again after all this time with no word on his fate. Despite everything that's been happening, Omi's still been on his mind this whole time with no answers for 80 years.

So he had quite a bit of both physical and psychological torture to deal with.

1-The Monks

They have frequent gladiatorial matches and an awful living situation. Old age has definitely slowed them down, so their matches probably don't end without injury like Master Fung's do.

And they still never found out what happened to Omi and Dojo, after all this time. They're all mentally beating themselves up over that, and over the state of the world. They're crushed by this feeling that they've failed in their duty towards it, and they don't know if their friends are dead or alive.

And the end, minutes after they find their first spark of hope in decades, where they're all brutally murdered. They're extremely painful deaths, too. Clay is shot by lasers, Raimundo is crushed, Kimiko is pulled apart limb-from-limb.

Taking that into consideration definitely makes them number one on this list. Can't have a much worse time than that.

Honorable Mention: Omi

He was only there for a little bit, so I can't really rank him anywhere on the list. But watching all his friends be brutally murdered in front of him certainly left an impression.

And Omi's the only one who will have any impression of all this at all. Whether you think the space-time merging of the alternate timeline left ripples of memories in the others or not, this is just a bad future of the main timeline, so no one's actually experienced it. Omi's the only one who'll remember this nightmare. It's seared into his memory for good.

[berylcups]

Abbacchio x Reader :drabbles

“Just Friends”

Cw: drinking, dubious consent? (It’s like tipsy consenting but imma tag it as dubious just in case. Drink wisely lovelies 🍷) also this is OOC AF but for it’s myself indulgence lol MINOR DNI

Notes: here’s some drabbles from my storage. Hopefully this will keep y’all full until I got my other work completed. Let’s just say there’s some cuck fuckery going on mwahaha 💜 Beryl

Y/N was the 2nd to last addition to Bucciaratis' team. They were quiet,and reserved. They didn’t like to talk much so it was a breath of fresh air for Abbacchio. The last thing he needed was another talkative brat to annoy him. He did find them to be a little suspicious…of course it turned out they just had social anxiety.

The rowdy boys would scare Y/N back into their shell and they’d stop opening up for a while. Much to bucciaratis dismay he would have to scold the others into behaving properly so Y/N felt comfortable enough to open up and bond with the rest of the team.

What’s a way for Y/N to loosen up? Alcohol of course. Specifically wine. The team was celebrating another win for taking down a rivaling group in their territory. It was past hours at the restaurant so they all drank and ate as much as their hearts desired. Now all that’s left is Abbacchio and Y/N. Y/N is much more relaxed and talkative when they are tipsy. They 're pretty fun to be around!

“Prosecco? Pfft you’re a lightweight and a wine newbie.” Abbacchio teased.

“I only like what tastes sweet. The dry stuff makes my face pucker and upsets my stomach.” Y/N stuck their tongue out.

“Of course it upsets your stomach. You’re drinking it way too fast. You’re supposed to sip it.” He snickered. “ Here, try some of mine with the dark chocolate since you like sweet things so much.” He offered his glass to them and they took a sip and ate a piece of chocolate.

“Hmm…tastes better this time .” Y/N said concentrating on the flavors lingering in their mouth.

“See? I told you it’s better when you drink it slowly. Now you don’t have to rely on those cheap newbie wines anymore.” He said acting smug.

“Yeah but… I still like the sweeter one better .” Y/N teased.

“ You uncultured brat.” He chuckled.

Abbacchio was surprised to find someone that he could genuinely get along with. This was the first time Y/N truly bonded with any of the team. When sober, Y/N was still a little shy and pretty reserved but around Abbacchio they felt completely at ease. They were low key about it but they became close friends.

When Y/Ns CD player stopped working they were pretty frustrated. He offered one of his ear buds to listen to his music. This raised a few eyebrows, abbacchio never shared his music before.

You two had an evening ritual that just seemed to develop on its own where you would be the last ones up at night. You both enjoyed each other’s company and the comforting silence that came with it. Just drinking wine and listening to music. An occasional conversation would eventually pop up whenever he felt the need to say something.

“You should really stop biting your nails Y/N. It’s a bad habit and can cause nail damage.” Abbacchio would gently scold. “ Let me paint your nails. That will help you curb your habit. I think this color would look good on you.” He held your hands and filed your nails to an even length. Feeling how soft and small your hands are compared to his larger ones made him feel some sort of way… he never felt a feeling like this before. Is this what love is? No way, you wouldn’t like someone like him. Better suppress those feelings. He doesn’t realize how his low confidence is blinding what he’s seeing in front of them. He can’t see that you like him just as much but lack the confidence yourself as well.

————————————-

When Giorno joined he saw how quickly you went back into your shell again. Great- we made all this progress and this brat waltzes in and fucks everything up. You always clam up around new people and get shaky. He’ll gently place his hand over yours under the privacy of the table to calm you down. He’s gonna put you at ease by doing an old party trick…perfect for tea parties. You completely forgot about your anxiety seeing him put his back to you and hear him pissing into the teapot.

“You gotta be shitting me…” You thought in shock.

“Here… I hope you enjoy it. I made it myself.” He said deadpan to the newbie.

“?!” They clasped a hand over their mouth to keep themselves from bursting out laughing. They could feel the tears beginning to prick their eyes.

Of course your laughter would turn to horror when you see the young blonde down the “special tea” like it was his first drink he’s had in days.

Giorno would be a hindrance to your peace of mind but if it wasn’t for him, Abbacchio wouldn’t feel the desperate need to hold onto you tighter.

—————————————

“Eggplant parmigiana again Y/N? You don’t wanna try anything new? Here, try my Pasta alla Genovese. You’ll like it I promise.” He knew you were afraid of trying new things in case you didn’t like it and end up offending someone. He didn’t really understand the fear of offending someone but he knew it was just how your personality is. You were considerate of everyone and he thought that endearing but could also be a hindrance to you.

He pushed his plate closer to you so you could get a forkful, and you hesitantly put it in your mouth. He was right! It was delicious, you kinda regret not getting it.

“Wow you were right. That is good. It’s super meaty.” You said covering your full mouth while talking.

“I’ll give you half of mine if you give me half of yours.” He offered.

“Yessssss” You said excitedly.

“But you can only drink Chianti.” He smirked

“ fine— you wine snob.” You huffed pretending to be annoyed.

“Hey- how about sharing with us huh? Give me half of half your Genovese and you can have half of half of my fagioli!” Narancia complained.

“Shut u-“Abbacchio says before getting cut off by a fuming Fugo.

“Half of half?! Don’t you mean a QUARTER?! Have you LEARNED NOTHING?! you STUPID BASTARDO!.”Fugo blew a gasket and stabbed Narancias with a fork…again.

———————————————————————

You have a habit of falling asleep during long travels and you always somehow end up with your head on Abbacchios shoulder knocked out like a log. The smell of his shampoo and his cologne blend together perfectly and listening to the music he shares just puts you into another world where you forget about being crammed in a van with a bunch of rowdy boys.

“Aww aren’t you sweet letting Y/N sleep on you like that!” Mista teased. “You both look adorable ~”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re gonna wake them up and we’re just friends.” He gave Mista and the rest of the giggling crew the middle finger.

“…just friends…” you repeated in your sleep.

“Suuuuurrrreee buddy.” Mista teased as he gave him the finger guns and a cheesy ass wink.

“Get bent.” Abbacchio proceeded to throw an empty water bottle at him for that.

“…Are we there yet..?” You yawn, squinting your eyes as you adjust to the light.

“Not even close…” he growls. “ just go back to sleep. Y/N.”

Abbacchio gives Mista a scornful look that could kill him.

“H-hey don’t look at me like that! You throwing shit is what woke them up!” Mista said, trying not to fuel Abbacchios anger further.

———————————————————————

It was another night of you two drinking together but you decided to take it up into his bedroom for some privacy since a couple were still up playing video games in the living room. You were admiring the amount of makeup he has.

“You always know how to look so nice. I don’t even know how to put the stuff on other than foundation and mascara.” You sheepishly confessed .

“You have a nice natural look. But if you’d like I can show you how to use some of mine to change it up a bit. I have a few lipstick colors that would look amazing on you” he said getting some makeup off his makeup vanity.

His hand was gentle when he held your face, his ametrine eyes felt like they were staring directly into your soul as he applied the eyeliner on your face. You could feel your face getting red from the intense eye contact, his eyes were so gorgeous. You have never seen a 2 toned eye color before.

“If your eyes are hooded it’s best to go with a thinner line so it doesn’t smudge…” he said, focusing on the other eye now. “You can go thicker if you want but you need to wait a little bit to make sure it dries.”

“Okay…” was all you could mutter out. Him being so close made you get a little shy again like when you first met.

He wanted to keep staring into your pretty eyes, they were hypnotizing up close but he had to break contact to get out the lipstick.

It was your favorite color and it compliments your skin tone well. Looking at your lips as he put it on you was giving him impulsive thoughts. The way he instructed you to pout your lips made you look so kissable. His mind went into autopilot mode, he moved closer to you and you did the same. He kept staring at your perfectly colored lips and gently brushed his lavender ones against yours.

“Shit!” He realized what he did and jumped back and started apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to do that—I’m kinda drunk so I’m not thinking straight-“

You cut him off by kissing him back.

“?!” If it wasn’t for his full coverage foundation his entire face would be red.

“You’re fine.”you say. “I…uh… kinda always wanted to do that.“ you confessed looking away sheepishly. “I really like you a lot .”

“Oh? And you kept this from me all this time?” He said trying to regain his confidence.

“And you didn’t notice all this time?” You gently teased.

“You brat.” He smirked and roughly pulled you closer to kiss you deeply.

You never did get a good look at how he did with your makeup. Confessing your feelings and making out is much more confidence boosting than a makeover.

———————————————————————

You two decided to be lowkey about your relationship, the last thing you two wanted was to be teased by the others. Also neither of you are a fan of PDA, it just adds unwanted attention and it’s kinda gross having people watch you.

That doesn't mean he doesn’t mean doesn’t make his affection known. Under the privacy of the table he likes to hold your hand. If he’s feeling flirtatious his hand is on your thigh. He'll run his hand up your inner thigh, give a good squeeze and massage it a bit. You have to do everything you can not to blush or just cream yourself.

———————————————————————

At the restaurant he would sneak off with you into the bathroom to have some impromptu alone time. Around you he just gets so needy so easily. He has you against the wall with one of your legs hiked around his hip as he grinds his clothed erection into your crotch. He’s muffling your moans with open mouth kisses and lots of tongue. He always tastes like his favorite wine and with how good he makes you feel it’s like you could get drunk off of his kisses.

He always has to have a handkerchief and an extra tube of lipstick on him to keep both of your little secrets a secret. He’s definitely looking for a transfer proof brand of lipstick for both of you to wear so you don't have to worry about all the smudging. But… seeing his lip prints all over you gets him off hard.

———————————————————————

When you don’t have missions together and you’re spending a few nights apart it’s tough on you both. But distance does make the heart grow stronger, and so does your neediness for him. You both make the best of the situation with what you have. Late night conversations that end up leading to some heavy sexual topics. He texts the lewdest things that you have to go read in private and even touch yourself to due to how graphic he’s being.

“Oh the things I would like to do to you right now... I’d kill just to have you with me.”

“You think you could ride me when I get home? I love watching your cute face as you try to take me all in.”

“ I want to watch your mascara run down your face as I make you cry my name.”

“You think you can take my entire load or do you think it will leak out? The thought of creampie-ing you is making me feral.”

“I can’t wait to get out of this hell hole. These brats are annoying me. The minute I get home I’m going to blow your back out. I swear I’m going to fuck the living hell out of you”

———————————————————————

When you have missions together you make sure to get a room. Bucciarati spares no expense and makes sure that everyone has at least a decent place to stay for the night. You think a nice hotel would have thicker walls but poor Narancia and Fugo did NOT get any sleep that night.

He had you on to your back in a mating press pounding mercilessly into your sopping wet cunt.

“Shit Leone~!”you mewled clinging on to him.

“That’s right bambina. You keep saying my name” he panted while nibbling on your ear.

“Fuck you’re tight… I’m never sharing you. You’re all mine” he growled.

Your feet were hitting the wall as he buried his cock deep into your tight cunt at a brutal pace. He let go of one of your legs and rubbed circles on your clit.

“Oh god~ Leone~ you’re going to make me cum!” You cried as tears ran down your cheeks.

“That’s right- you cum for me. Cum with me!” He grunted.

You felt the warm release inside making you feel pleasantly full. The knot in your belly tightened and legs spasmed, your toes curled, you felt the fire in you intensify and the knot finally snapped.

“Oh fuck~ Leo I’m cumming!” You howled as you arched your back.

You didn’t have time to bask in the afterglow, you both suddenly felt weightless for a brief second and a loud crash. You both broke the hotel bed!

A zip sound came from the door-“ I heard a commotion! Abbacchio are you being attacked?!” Bucciarati burst in and his eyes fell on the both of you and his face went red.

“!!!” You quickly covered your chest with the sheet. “Uh-um….” You couldn’t form any sentences.

“Let me guess…Just friends huh?” Bucciarati teased with a shit eating grin

“Bucciarati…with all due respect-please get the fuck out.” Abbacchio said deadpan trying not to get embarrassed.

“Oh alright… but you’re paying for the damages.” He smirked as he opened the door and left.

So much for keeping everything a secret…

[queenxxraccoon]

Speaking of female characters in The Outsiders, what do you all think their clothing styles and personality would be like? Characters we’ve read about or watched in the movie, what kind of depth do you think their characters have? I’ll try to give an idea of what I think. I also will say I don’t like a decent percent of the female characters bc of things they’ve been described to have done. Although Angela is the MVP we love her. @nexternalknowsthingz @thatonetotaldramaguy weigh in on this in curious.

Cherry: A girl a really tries to please both sides, can come off as arrogant and selfish but is forced to go along with what she is told (Socs forcing her to treat Greacers like trash). She although has a fiery side to her and has a big belief in her moral values (stuck up for Ponyboy at the drive in) she’s not perfect but I think she definitely tries and has good heart. 6/10 (God I hate her a lot though 😭)

Clothes:

Marcia: A genuine girl, shes very shy and polite. She can be sassy but also classy. Definitely also defends her friends like Cherry and is a real girls girl. Definitely also keeps out of trouble, she doesn’t trash Greasers but can believe some can be erratic or spontaneous into doing bad behavior. Doesn’t condone it but doesn’t make you feel bad for it. 8/10

Clothes:

Beverly: Now, forgive on this, but haven’t seen the musical so I don’t her personality at all. But she seems like she would take no shit. Think of Bubbles from the Powerpuff Girls. Very demure, very mindful, but will bust you right up side the head if she thinks you acting up. I can also see her being a bit of a toxic friend who uses people as stepping stones. 3/10

Clothes:

Evie: Steve’s gf. Not much is told about her in both the in the book and movie but let’s be real, she’s dating Steve. (I personally ship Soda and Steve but if we’re going cannon…) I definitely she a loving girl but someone who can PARTYYYY! A friend who would give the most amazing advice, definitely the girl who like knows what you like before you telling her, example:

Evie: “What you want to eat?”

Friend: “Idk I’ve never ate here before.”

Evie: “I bet you’d like (random food and drink combo)

You order it and you fucking love it. She understands ur taste. 10/10

Clothes:

Sylvia: Oooo hold me back I’m gonna beat this girl up. Similar to Beverly but way more toxic and isn’t afraid to show. Bev would work behind backs and in the shadows, but Sylvia would just be a brat and absolutely bitch to your face. She wants to demolish your self esteem. Katy Perry’s song Hot and Cold (idk I don’t listen to Katy Perry lol could be the wrong song name). Like one minute she could be super sweet but then tear you down the next. Constantly keeps you on your toes and gaslights you till you cook

S/O (Prob past Dallas): “Hey I’m leaving to hang out with my friends.”

Sylvia: “You never talked about them, who are they? Where are you going?”

S/O: “I talked about hanging out with them this morning.”

Sylvia: “No you didn’t, stop lying. Maybe you should get your brain checked because you’ve mentioned them before. Are you gonna go cheat on me with them?” Etc. Not a good time, -10/10

Clothes:

Sandy: Well, she’s not good either. Definitely a little spoiled. Would def manipulate Soda into believing he was a bad bf bc he didn’t do one really small thing for her like pull her chair out in a restaurant for her. 😒 Miss literally cheated, got pregnant and left Soda. (Or Soda got her pregnant? Can’t remember lol) But I feel overall she’s very bratty and not fun to be around. 3/10

Clothes:

Angela: This bitch! WE LOVE HER!!!!!!!! Comes in clutch. Someone talking shit about someone she loves, smack to the face. Don’t like the way ur acting, ear gets pulled. She wouldn’t do this unprovoked either, like she would need good reasons. Def a lover to her friends and a fighter to her enemies. I also believe that she’s into exercise or weight lifting. Honestly in my opinion def the energetic on steroids version of Evie. 1000/10

Clothes:

[funky-gobbo-art]

Pretty sloppy refsheet since I haven't made a proper one in a while (don't think I ever did for any past fursonas/furry oc's.).

Bitter-Berry was born into the world sometime in the mid-90's to a white-tailed deer mother and a timber wolf father. His mother named him "Juniper" and raised him away from his father, and while growing up, she demonized every aspects of wolves and any predator type species. B.B was raised to fear wolves and suppress his urges which did not mix well with his own deer instincts.

Growing up, B.B had issues making and keeping friends, if he wasn't quietly keeping to himself he was lashing out, which lead to him becoming isolated.

The wolf instincts became worse as a teenager (raging hormones and all that) and he completely lost himself when he attacked and killed a fellow deer. He couldn't help but to eat the corpse when he took them down. He was ousted from the herd and his mother fully disowned him.

Lost and isolated, he met a human woodsman, who took him in after convincing him he was special and they'd make something great together. B.B became the man's "hunting dog" which satisfied his predator urges and gave him a sense of usefulness and belonging.

This seemingly nice setup didn't last long, after a few years, his domestication training turned into full on torture, the woodsman revealed himself to be some type of sorcerer. He would preform torturous rituals on B.B, making him experience death and resurrection.

The only thing that was a silver lining for Bitter-Berry was the fact the more the woodsman used his magic, it would slowly kill him, though it took B.B awhile to realize it would be an open door to escape. He endured this for a full decade until the woodsman became too weak to overpower B.B and eventually die.

Now Bitter-Berry spends his newfound freedom seeing the limits of his supposed immortality and regenerative abilities. He may be a danger to others but he's not invincible, he can still be knocked down and he's pretty weak overall.

He's not sure if he can live a normal life after everything, but at least there's some things that make him happy; like weed, energy drinks, video games and doing art...and other earthly delights.

Extra notes:

B.B has autism and low self esteem, as the years went on his anxiety got worse and he got major depression along with the trauma.

He discovered he was trans near the end of his time stuck with the woodsman.

His antlers started growing after one of the last rituals he was subjected to, it was a mistake by the woodsman but he decided he can take the antlers for whatever he wanted.

B.B can appear in feral, toony and anthro whenever the mood calls for it.

Because of his shifting forms, his legs in anthro mode are mostly digitigrade but can also be plantigrade depending.

Got top surgery at some point but the scars can appear or disappear depending on how the regeneration process is.

B.B chose the name "Bitter-Berry" as a somewhat similar name to his deadname.

Fashion wise B.B dresses more alternatively, fitting with his music tastes. Mostly settles for what's comfortable and listens to a lot of other things too (polyjamorous lol).

B.B appears sickly due to an unbalanced diet, but default is kinda chubby.

Sometimes his wolf instincts clash with his deer instincts to the point of self destructive behavior.

Despite the dark subject matter, he has the ability to be silly and laugh at dumb things or odd coincidences.

There's a lot of darker stuff and not-safe-for-tumblr subject matter but hopefully that can be gauged with the bio there.

[helvetets-gytter]

Heavy Trip headcanon’s!!

Felt like sharing these cuz why not lol

Most are just stuff I feel like fits in how i see things and how I see them, some are more personal taste and others are just random too, so if u disagree with any that’s totally fine!

I love these guysss

Turo❤️

First of all.. Bi Icon

Therapist friend.. he always wants to leant a listening ear and comfort people around him, yet won’t let others do this with him..

Passiv Suicidal, would never admit to it

Actually had a sorta disliking to his job in the psychiatric institution, but he liked taking care of the people there so he stuck with it

Looking past the music his band makes he also sings as a way to express himself

He’s an ambivert, leaning more to introverted

Often can be really anxious. His anxiety can lead to him vomiting from being overwhelmed, this can also happen randomly..

Turo loves hugs but refuses to ask for them.. generally loves physical touch

Strong habit of playing with his hair or chewing on his nails

He’s close to all of his friends, though he’s really close with Pasi the most

Turo once got corpse paint done by Xytrax

Jynkky💙

HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEART

Always tries to be supportive and optimistic, putting others before himself..

Had a bad nu metal phase before switching to heavy metal-

Probably was the extrovert who adopted all of them and made the friend group they are now

Jynkky is a horrible liar.. poor guy lol

Extremely clumsy.. I can imagine he once accidentally knocked over his whole drum set-

Tries looking at the bright side in every situation

Is very fond of physical touch, loooves hugs!

LOVES the reindeer soup Lotvonen’s mum makes

Him and Lotvonen are closest to each other and share familiarity, as a kid Jynkky often was treated like a second child to his parents

Lotvonen🩵

He might be annoying but he’s just being himself

most likely to have ADHD out of the group

Secretly loves 80s glam metal

Lotvonen IS the gay cousin..

Pretty sure my guy has some anger issues-

Loves taking care of the reindeers at the slaughter house despite knowing their end-

Dislikes the reindeer soup his mum makes but still eats it for her.. griefs the reindeer ngl

General love for animals, was probably the type to beg his parents for a pet as a child or brought random outside animals in the house

He’s very willing to eat inedible things, just give him 20 cents lol

Dude definitely has brainrot and annoys Jynkky with it on daily basis

He’s also definitely obsessed with FNAF and knows the lore by heart

Pasi/Xytrax🖤

Hyperfixation on black metal and other different subcultures / genres in general..

Can sing really good but has stage fright and generally doesn’t like singing in front of others.. that’s why he’s the bass player, no one gives a damn about them lol /j

Deep interest in Satanism and Paganism.. most likely reads about Odism too

Definitely likes to bone hunt in the forest

Likes painting his nails black

Close to Turo, appreciates how he can express himself without being judged

Listening to music on his discman/walkman while working, usually no one cares

He doesn’t talk a lot.. but if he does he speaks his mind to the fullest

Professional daydreamer (real af)

He rather suppresses his feelings and acts nonchalant all the time because he just can't express his emotions „correctly“..

Way too much sense of awkwardness

has a constant monotonous voice, even if he doesn’t mean it

Probably autistic

He’s the last one to enter a relationship, either because he simply doesn’t understand the concept, is oblivious to hints or because he knows he can’t express his affection

If he’ll get a partner the gender wouldn’t matter at all, if he loves someone it’s unimportant to him. Although he doesn’t label himself people assume he’s pansexual.

[babstheyaga]

I had an idea and I had to write it down before I forgot...

(Just music and stuff, nothin' serious... Or is it... (I'll go into details unknown yet so FTLM SPOILERS!!!))

Songs that reader relates to some of the characters in Fear To Love Me (A lot of Loveless because they're my favorite band):

Picasso by Loveless for Jazz

"I don't know when, think I started at the ending" Describing how reader's first interaction with Jazz was automatically romantic/sexual.

"Got a pretty little daydream telling me what I need to hear, but I can't let you go" Basically how she feels about Jazz throughout the entire FTLM series. Being pulled between thoughts of dislike towards him because of how he abandons her constantly, yet when he's there, when he's sweet, it's like a daydream. He's telling her exactly what she needs to hear to keep her around.

"My mind keeps slipping further away... Am I wasting my breath? Probably." Self explanatory.

"So damn unfair, bracing, going nowhere (Oh no, it's gone and happened again) I'm spiraling, getting sick of my pretending (You know I think I like it again)" She HATES the fact that she can't get over him, she's sick of pretending she can't stand him, but you know she starting to like it.

Haunting Me by Loveless for BumbleBee

"History has a way of telling me to stay away" She knows BumbleBee's past with her, her history is telling her to stay away from him, but she physically can't get him off her mind.

"How do I say everything catches up to me?" She's supposed to move on from him. She's SUPPOSED to stay away but it's starting to catch up to her. Jazz is getting jealous. Mirage can't stand the thought of her being with him. Bumper isn't trusting of him. She's being torn apart.

"It's a brand new day but I can't even think straight." She thinks of him all the time. She can't think straight because of it.

"Got a taste of the bitter in me, now I keep it just to feel complete." When she's finally able to see him again, he's different. He's loving. He's caring. She feels awkward around him, she needs him to be aggressive again. She needs him to be bitter again.

"Wish that I could just fall asleep and not wake up with you haunting me" Self explanatory.

"I could climb another mountain, I could swim another sea, fall apart if you were next to me" She can try to find him in others. She tries to find him in others. But she will always come right back to him given any chance.

THE DINER by Billie Eilish, early stages of Mirage

Basically the entire song is self explanatory. Lol.

Ecstasy by SUICIDAL-IDOL, late stages of Mirage

Also very self explanatory! LOL

i need to be alone. by girl in red, before the fall with Bumper

"I sometimes think when does life begin" She's starting to get depressed, she's thinking it's totally pointless that Bumper is there, she's only going to die.

"I'm falling out of conversations. I can't pay attention, repeat the question" Bumper is attempting to make friends with her, but she can't focus on anything. She's too busy stuck in her own head to properly hear, or even comprehend anything they're saying to her.

"I need to be alone or I'm gonna lose my shit" She's losing her mind with Bumper never leaving her side. They won't even let her sleep alone. She can't take a shower, she can't go outside, she can't talk to Ratchet, WheelJack, BumbleBee. She needs to be alone.

"I'm waiting for something to change, 'cause everyday just feels the same" Self explanatory.

Heart-Shaped Soul by Loveless, Bumper after the fall

"I lie awake pretending that it's different when you're here with me, I made up my decision you're too good for me, and I honestly wonder why I ever let you close" Bumper's gone. She was warned constantly that it would happen, that they would leave, yet she refused to accept it.

"I know I'm the problem, put it all on me, but honestly, I hate that I ever let you close" She knows she caused it. She knows she was at fault. Jazz won't let her let it down, Mirage will always remind her, and yet she can't handle it.

"What a twisted fate, always ends this way" It should have been her. It should have been her. It should have been her. It should have been her.

"I let you know that I'd let you down" She tried so fucking hard to make them understand that she won't let them down, she'll beg, plead, and barrow with them, but they've already accepted what happened.

"But you still, you still hear me out" Bumper fell for what she was telling them.

"My heart-shaped soul bleeds on the ground" If you know you know.

"I don't really like it, but I think you need to leave" When Bumper returns, she pushes them away to the point she flat out tells them to leave and not come back.

[sitp-recs]

HI Liv, when you have time, could you please recommend fanfics that have the dynamic of Draco not knowing how to deal with his feelings for Harry, moving away from him and self-sabotaging due to his traumas and then him and Harry making it work?I went through something like this recently and I think reading something like this will bring me emotional comfort. Thank you anyway. Take care and have a good week.

Hello friend! I hope you’re taking good care of yourself 💗🫂 of course, I personally find these very comforting so hopefully they will work for you. Sending love! Happy holidays xo

Pride by @writcraft (E, 9k)

Harry and Draco form an unlikely friendship after the war. Even as the friendship becomes more, Draco is quick to push Harry away before they become too deeply involved. As Harry fights to save an iconic wizarding pub and gay safe-haven from being closed down, circumstances force Draco to confront his true feelings head on.

What Real Thing? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 12k)

They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Thickets, Anonymous (E, 17k)

When Draco returns to the UK after two decades of building his career as an internationally-renowned artist to look after his ailing, estranged father, he crosses paths with his former flame, Harry Potter, in the most unexpected way.

Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)

Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (E, 31k)

Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.

Potential Gravity by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 32k)

Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around.

All Roads by @korlaena (M, 36k)

Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out. Draco doesn’t want to face the truth about himself, but he’s stuck between Harry and his duty, and he’s out of options.

(We'll Call This Fixer-Upper) Home by @phdmama (E, 52k)

Draco Malfoy hasn’t set foot on English soil in ten years. After the war, he fled to America, where he found himself in a community, and healed himself through following his heart into music. He’s now the lead singer and songwriter for an internationally known band, who have come back to headline the Wiltshire Music Festival. But as Draco is about to learn, his past isn’t as far away as he might have believed, and his future may hold more than he ever could have dreamed.

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship (E, 135k)

Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. He’d stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals.

[builtbymachine]

let me tell you guys a story. on may 6th of 2022, i decided to DM @tripthelightfandomtastic. it started of normal, me telling her how i loved her work and how i thought she seemed cool and i wanted to be friends. over the next month or so, it of course evolved into a bit of a flirtationship(horny on tumblr, yknow?). we moved from tumblr to texting and snapchatting. we talked pretty much daily. around june or july, we realized we both live im the same state(rare!) and we decided that maybe we should meet and see how things go.

move to september, max comes to visit me. it was the best weekend i had had in years. we hit it off indtantly. we spoke like we had been friends for years. we understood each others jokes, music tastes, memes, thoughts; i mean everything matched up. we were instantly best friends. after max went home, our friendship immediately soared. we spoke constantly, facetimed regularly, knew each others schedules all of it. we very quickly became each others safe space. as the months went by, everything kept getting better and better.

may 2023. we went to shaky knees together with some friends for my birthday. my friends loved her. they all had an instant connection too(they all met in december) that made me incredibly happy. that trip was the best trip of my life and i started to think, "oh fuck, maybe this is more than friendship to me" but i tried to leave it alone. shocker; i couldnt. i had brought it up to max before, but neither of us were ready for anything serious and i was okay with that. i was happy and thats what mattered.

june 2023. i realized i needed help. as happy as i felt, my brain wasnt happy. i needed to talk to a doctor. max not only encouraged me; but she was there to talk to me thru everything. i got on anti depressants(woohoo!) and she stuck by my side through all the weird trials of medication. she believed in me and encouraged me in my lowest moments. i was able to better myself because of her.

september(ish) 2023. i went through one of the toughest friendship breakups of my life. max heard everything i had to say and let me sit and cry for hours about it, making sure i was okay before hesding ti bed. she offered solutions and support. checked on me daily. made sure i was in a good headspace and did her overall best to cheer me up. i went to see max in her hometown and meet her family. i love them. we all got to hangout and just vibe and it was amazing

october 2023. acl. i got to see my all time favorite band with my favorite person. sobbing uncontrollably to Everlong, she held me while i was living the best moment of my life. i didnt want it with anyone else(except my mom). then, we had matching outfits for halloween!!!!! she met more of my friends in the midst of everything and of course, they all love her(how could they not). im pretty sure they like her more than me lol.

december 2023. we met up in austin this past weekend. when she left, i told her i was in love with her. yesterday; she told me she felt the same. i am the happiest ive been. thank you tumblr for bringing her to me.

heres to you, baby. i love you.

[vriskarlmarx]

I was tagged by @tangled-pixel-harpsichord to name 3 songs that have been stuck in my head for the past few days! I'm making a new post because the thread was too long lol thanks for the tag and also your musical taste is 👑 impeccable.

1. La familia, la propiedad privada y el amor - Silvio Rodriguez

2. X ESO BB - Jere Klein and Nicki Nicole

3. Klámstrákur - Hatari

no pressure tags @jeannie-youre-a-tragedy (silvio being on here is your doing btw) @idridian (hatari being on here is your doing) @pseudotsugas @fishmech @blondiest @aristotels @sylvia-on-the-run and whoever else wants to do it :3

[bukvarsbitch]

An unofficial, very personal to my tastes, and unnecessary ranking of all of the songs in Nerdy Prudes Must Die

(typed on my laptop so you know shit's real)

I think it goes without saying this is all my opinion. All of the songs are genuinely good, even the ones I don’t love/like! That being said, here’s my ranking just because I’ve been thinking about this a little bit and I want to put it outside my brain.

15: Dirty Dudes Must Die Look, I get it. It’s a twist, it’s a time for Angela to slay. That’s all good and fine. I just don’t love the placement and it didn’t feel like an ending to me. That being said, “darkness will save my soul” goes HARD.

14: The Best of You People keep putting this high up, which I respect, but I can’t resonate with. Someone said it felt very DCOM to them, and I think that might be why I don’t love it; it just feels really tonally different, and not in the way that Just for Once is that’s a clear differentiation for a whole slew of reasons. It’s a totally fine song, I just don’t love it as a fake-out closer. It just doesn’t work for my brain.

13: Cool as I Think I Am (Reprise) I love a sad reprise as much as anyone else; for some reason, this one just really doesn’t vibe with me. No thoughts about why, I just always skip the last three songs on the soundtrack because I don’t love them.

12: Go Go Nighthawks Okay, so we’ve finally gotten past the songs that I just don’t like lol. I actually really like this song! I think it’s cute tonally and it gets off the really artificial and saccharine world that’s about to come crumbling down. Also, the “squawk squawk” always gets stuck in my head for some reason. It’s only this low because it’s not one that I’d put on repeat.

11: The Summoning Someone’s going to dox me for this, but I really don’t love The Summoning as a whole number. It goes hard, don’t get me wrong; I actually ADORE everything before the Lords of Black come in. Mariah, Angela, and Joey’s vocals blend SO beautifully, and the ensemble whispers are HAUNTING. I love, love, love it. The rest of the song is still awesome and I get why people like it, but I don’t love it until the ensemble comes back in towards the end. I also don’t love the start-and-stop of it; if they were going to do that, I feel like keeping everything singing would’ve worked better? I just feel a bit like the energy falters a little. That being said, I still really really like this song.

10: Just for Once I’m a sucker for this genre of musical; my favorite musicals are almost all from this era, and I really like this song on the soundtrack. I don’t actually love it in the show, but I really appreciate it as a number on the soundtrack. It made me understand Ruth a lot more (I liked her before, but I really GOT her after), but I didn’t love how it fit into the show at first, I think because Lauren’s vocals are a little different on the soundtrack compared to the proshot. A banger!

9: Cool as I Think I Am It’s a solid act one number! I’m actually fairly neutral about it, but I still love the way it sounds so it’s higher just because I’m more likely to put it on repeat. I also just love this occurrence of “I’m not a loser” and its later recurrence.

8: Bury the Bully Everyone seems to not like this and bully the bully??? I really like these songs; I think they’re super catchy and they’re a great comedic song for Angela to really get Grace into our hearts (more than she already was). This one’s only lower because I prefer the way the lyrics flow in bully the bully.

7: Bully the Bully I could listen to this song for literal years. I love it so much. Justice for bully the bully lol.

6: If I Loved You I’ve listened to this song SO MUCH. Firstly, Joey and Mariah’s voices go together SO FUCKING WELL. Secondly, “sure, I’m a sapiosexual, you’re intellectual, but I cut my lover losses when I can” is not only one of my favorite lines in the show but it also SO BEAUTIFUL. I think this song is just a great addition to the second act, and I really love it.

5: Dirty Girl Okay, so I will admit: when I first watched the show, I skipped this song. And then, after I finished the show, I went back and listened. I was so wrong, y’all. This is not only a god tier song, it’s also a great way to establish Grace’s absolute fucking insanity alongside Max’s (also) fucking insanity. Grace’s “I’m a good girl”s are such a good addition to the song and her character. I really, really love this song, and I think it’s a great place to start for my top five lol.

4: Hatchet Town SOMEONE’S GOT THEIR HAND ON THE HATCHET HANDLE SWINGING ON THE YOUTH IT’S A HATCHET SCANDAL CAREFUL OR YOUR FOLKS WILL END UP A CANNIBAL’S PLATE IT AIN’T GREAT YOU’RE BETTER ON THE RUN THAN YOU ARE HIDING SUDDENLY THIS QUIET TOWN’S EXCITING

God tier lyricism genuinely and it sounds sO GOOD. I love a “and here’s what the town thinks” song, and this is a great one that goes SO HARD. The chorus sets the tone so well. As I told my friend, it’s like if the Riverdale adults got a musical number, and I LOVE that.

3: High School is Killing Me This, to me, is an example of a genuinely perfect modern musical opening number. It sets the mood of the show so well, and it comes back to haunt you as the show slowly kills off its characters in a way that’s so satisfying. Of course, Mariah and Joey are hitting it out of the park; for me, though, the real star of this song is the ensemble. In any show, my favorite character is the ensemble, and this song is a great example of why. Lauren and Jon do a great job introducing us to the world (and their voices together are beautiful, GOD), and the ensemble makes it feel lived in and sets you up for the whirlwind you’re about to go on. Also, the harmonies. MWAH. (Also, “a cesspool faux democracy, it’s one hell of a normal abnormality” has been stuck in my head since I heard it; one of my favorite lyrics in the show).

2: Nerdy Prudes Must Die Love when the bully comes to kill you but it’s camp! Firstly, Will’s voice is GORGEOUS. Genuinely, I want him to play every single high school bad guy in a musical; he does such a good job. I just adore this song’s placement, tone, lyrics, sound, everything. I really love the way that “I could give two shits that you buried and left me, defiled my body, you pushed me off the edge” sounds, plus obviously the entire will you pray for me bit, ESPECIALLY WHEN THE ENSEMBLE COMES IN. Also, Jon’s absolutely fucking stuNNING “I’M NOT A LOSER.” God, it’s just so good. 100000/10.

1: Literal Monster I feel like this might be unpopular? But, I LOVE this song. It’s another one of those “and here’s what the town thinks” songs (in a way), the harmonies are beautiful, the GUITAR RIFFS, Will’s voice, the way it sets up Max’s entire being and everyone’s relationship to him. I already liked the song before Will comes in, but his voice adds such a wonderful tonal shift to the song with the HUH HUHs and then he just really goes for it, and I love him for it. His “a predator of my size, cross your heart hope to die, you can watch as I rise, I will claim what is mine” is genuinely one of my favorite sounds of the year. MWAH, chefs kiss.

[littlemisspessimist]

Just wanted to say I’ve been following life on mars for 2 years now and I gasped in excitement when I got the update notification it’s one of my favorite works :) glad to hear you’re doing better!

As for promts- Steddie hugs from behind perhaps? 🤔

thank you so much! I'm so shocked that people have continued to read my fic even though I've been so incredibly inconsistent these past 2 years. But everyone has been so patient, and I promise I read every single comment left on my fics--even when I haven't updated in almost a year. Thank you so much for continuing to suffer with me torturing these characters lol

.......................................................

Prompt: Hugs from behind. This one got away from me so quickly lol

Sure, Eddie had always been touchy. He’d always been in your face, in your space, and in the way.

With his childhood friends, he was the one reaching to hold their hand on the playground. He was the one who gave the goodbye hugs, the noogies, and cheek-squeezing, bone crushing embraces that left them out of breath but full of love. As time passed, as the world around him grew less accepting of his black shirts and music taste, suddenly being touched by him was met with a flinch or a shove.

A push against the lockers in freshmen year.

A gut punch behind the bleachers in junior year.

Because what other way was there to touch the town queer. The town freak.

But the few friends he was able to find—the few who stuck around through each insult thrown their way for even standing next to him—they were lucky to get his affection. To feel him press against their side, a cheeky smile on his face.

When Spring Break of ’86 changed everything, no one was allowed to touch him.

“Don’t risk infection,” and “Don’t open your stitches,” was crammed into his brain as doctors and nurses forced distance between him and the Party as they huddled around him, cataloging every breath he took and making sure no exhale was his last. Dustin would stand on his right, hands clenched and his lip stiff as he kept his body from crumbling into Eddie’s side. That first day in the hospital, after Eddie was fully awake and allowed visitors, he reached for Dustin, uncurling his fingers and letting them grasp his.

Because he couldn’t imagine the last time this kid—this brother—ever touched him was holding his dead body.

The others came as well, each one giving his hand a firm, steady embrace. Hopper even gave his shoulder a gentle pat, the kindest touch ever exchanged between the two.

The most surprising visitor was Steve Harrington. Steve usually stood in the back of the Party, letting the kids provide updates and gush at Eddie, giving them all the space they needed with their metal-head idol. In the background, Steve watched, almost standing guard among the group, looking over everyone’s shoulders and holding his breath when anyone got too close. He was the police of “take a step back, you little shits,” and they all groaned under his command. But they still followed.

Only when he was there by himself did he sit next to Eddie, his voice forced casual and his eyes darting. “You doing okay?” he asked.

“I mean, I’ve been better,” Eddie responded, and Steve gave a quick breathy laugh before gasping, leaning forward as his hands shoved into his hair and his elbows rested on his knees. Eddie watched, his mouth gaping as Steve’s hands fisted his hair, his eyes shut and his back curling into himself.

“Y-you were dead. You were dead and I carried you out of there,” Steve panted, his shoulders hunching as the pace of his breath was increasing speed, catching roughly in his throat. And Eddie could only lay there, his body frozen as the figure of strength throughout the past week fell apart. This pillar of protection, watching over the group, always standing in the front lines. So he did the only thing he could think of that moment, doctors be fucking damned. He grasped Steve’s arm and dragged him forward, and Steve sunk into him, his face pressed against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie pulled his arm around his neck, letting Steve nearly lay on top of him as hushed words spilled from his lips.

“I’m still here, Stevie—we’re all safe,” Eddie mumbled, awkwardly patting Steve’s head before running his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve huffed into his shoulder, pressing his forehead into the floral hospital gown and struggling to take deep breaths. Eddie let his eyes close for a moment, his attempts at deep breathing impeded by the pain in his sides. Eddie let out a mild grunt and said, “Jesus, calm down Steve—I’m the one who got eaten here,” and Steve gave a muffled groan in between aborted laughter. Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Wait wait wait wait— fuck you got eaten too shit,” Eddie pulled Steve back so he could see his face, scanning his face for marks and bruises but finding only red rimmed eyes and scrunched brows. He pulled at Steve’s shirt, seeing if he could bring it up to examine any wounds, but Steve shoved it down, his face reddening as he winced at the movement.

“Shit, Eddie,” he grumbled, trying to push Eddie back, but he retaliated, grasping the collar of Steve’s shirt and steadying them both. When he took a breath, Eddie’s eyes darted around Steve, but Steve kept his gaze firm on the man in front of him, his own hand coming up to grasp the crook of his neck and holding on. Like he was confirming that this was real. That they were both still here and still breathing. Still two beating hearts.

Eddie noted the familiarity of the position. Of how the last time he was this close to Steve, he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, his life chaos. Eddie brought his eyes back to Steve’s and they shared a simple inhale and exhale together, their hands still grasping each other. Steve held Eddie’s gaze and a small smile twitched at the corners of his lips. Eddie smiled back.

“We made it,” he said.

…………………………………………………

“What did you make?” Steve asked through a yawn years later. He stumbled, still sleepy, toward the mop of curly hair in front of him on that rare morning where he was allowed to sleep in. Eddie furrowed his brow at the coffee maker in front of him, second guessing his ratio of ground coffee to water as he tapped on the countertop to an unfamiliar beat.

“How much of this instant shit should I put in?” Eddie asked in response, holding the can up in the air for Steve to reference without turning around. He tried reading the directions on the can, but the text was too tiny and despite Steve’s suggestion, he refused to entertain the idea that he just maybe might need to get some reading glasses. Eddie grumbled to himself, squinting at the directions when a pair of arms wrapped around his middle and a body pressed against his back. Steve closed his eyes, taking a breath of Eddie’s sticky, morning-sweat scent as he pressed is face into Eddie’s neck. Eddie leaned back into the embrace, lacing his fingers into Steve’s as he rubbed against old matching scars and kissed behind Eddie’s ear. Eddie took a slow breath, bumping his head into Steve’s as they rocked together in their kitchen, listening to the blood in their veins pumping. And Eddie turned around, his own arms settling on Steve’s shoulders, their faces inches from each other and their breath settling into a familiar inhale and exhale.

“Stevie, you’re so touchy,” he said with a smile.

[nuclearjacks]

12 for the fandom ask game !!

What's the funniest or craziest AU idea you've ever come up with?

Apologies for taking a bit to get around to this- had a very busy weekend and needed a day or two to recoup jdjdjddj

But Ouughghghgh you’re making me think here cause I’ve got so many in my head that have never seen the light of day djhfdjdjdj

It’ll all be under the cut cause I *will* be unapologetically neurodiverse about this vvv

A bit suggestive but nothing explicit - and not one of mine but is far more entertaining than anything I’ve come up with since I’m an angst whore™️ jdhdhdhr was probably a silly strip club au that an old mutual of mine back in 2020 brainstormed. If I remember correctly it was something like the autobots and deceptions ran competing strip clubs and of course the deceptions wore bedazzled and glittery speedos and booty shorts and were slay as fuck sjdhdhdh

There wasn’t much to it other than that, the deceptions slayed and that’s what I cared about most iedniencein

Otherwise-

My craziest (crazy in the sense that, this-is-the-thing-I’ve-thought-most-about-and-put-the-most-effort-in-because-holy-shit-everything-fits-so-perfectly-and-you-can-tell-this-is-peak-fandom-crossover-indulgence djnfjeehbd) is my TarnMaRat Phantom of the Opera inspired AU. Spoilers ahead for mtmte and Lost light just in case too.

I’m not the first person to see the parallels between the Phantom and Tarn absolutely not (there’s actually a gorgeous Tarn print I’ve found on eBay of him as Phantom that I will put the link to here), but I *might* be the first (still highly unlikely with how old this fan base is sjchdjdj) to see the parallels between Christine and Pharma and Raoul and Ratchet (and many other characters who I’ve found a way to weave them into for the sake of this AU jdjxjd)

For example, Christine is stuck in a ‘no-good-way-out’ situation due to the manipulation of a man who threatens those she loves if his terms aren’t obeyed. Very easy to see the parallels between Pharma’s situation on Delphi and how he had to steal t-cogs in order to keep him and his staff safe from the DJD. But even Christine’s deteriorating mental state throughout the musical is very similar to Pharma’s through out the Delphi arc. She’s a fairly isolated individual whose mainly only known the Opera for most of her life, she’s been trained to be the next big star by the Phantom and is pretty suddenly thrust into said position to the point she becomes very overwhelmed when things begin to get more and more complicated and terrifying with her understanding of her ‘angel of music’ and the world in turn. Just like how Pharma suddenly found the DJD on his doorstep one day and was suddenly a t-cog supplier to one of the most deadly decepticons and had to start managing how to keep supplies coming in, keep his staff safe AND possibly find a way out of said situation that might get him and the others out as safely as possible. Which causes him to isolate the Delphi station from everyone until First Aid calls for Ratchet. Also very similar to Christine, they both latched onto people from their past who they felt safe with, possibly thinking they could protect them or help them.

That’s only a taste of the analysis I’ve done of these characters cause I didn’t even get onto Ratchet and Raouls ego complex’s or Tarn’s obsessive behaviours over Megatron, that, for the sake of the AU, I switched up to an obsession over Pharma to better suit the parrells between Phantoms obsession with Christine eunceicheuhc

Instead of this au being a ‘I just put these characters in the other characters place so yay! The robots do opera now lol’, I instead took the same storyline and applied it to the Delphi arc and mish mashed things in from the Lost Light comics too. Honestly this would probably make a really good psychological thriller fic the more I think about it iendiencein

Some of this is still pretty wibbly-wobbly but the basic gist is that Pharma is still running the Delphi site but for a much longer indeterminate amount of time so he’s kinda known as the Doctor who runs Delphi. He was thrust into the position straight after graduating med school (cybertronians still have to go to med school for this shit right??? DJXJDJDJ) to match the overwhelming nature of Christine’s position as Diva. Delphi is also a much larger hospital in this AU with a reputation for 50% of its patients going missing/dying/etc, causing it to be severely underfunded, but somehow still able to run and operate. Which later when Ratchet pops around (since I’d like to think this whole AU would be from Ratchet’s perspective, again, very similarly to the Delphi arc in the comics, to increase the level of horror and mystique around Delphi) learns it’s due to the DJD’s involvement who have been uncharacteristically generous to the hospital. Which later Ratchet learns is because Pharma treated a mech by the name of Damus back in the day when the hospital’s mortality rate was much lower. A mech who mysteriously keeps appearing in hospital records for coming in for treatment of seemingly superficial injuries, notes specifying that he’d always request for Pharma, until these appearances just stop one day out of the blue. And the mortality suddenly spikes a few months later.

The rest of the AU is basically ratchet figuring out the mysterys of Delphi while also trying to find a way to get Pharma and co out of this situation as more and more important characters (sorry, Ambulon doesn’t make it in this universe either jcjdjdjd) are killed off by Tarn. With background Pharat and a one-sided Tarnma.

I’d love to do more with this AU in the future whenever my next bout of creativity is, I have so many feelings about them all🥺🥺🥺💞💞💞