#they sent it to the groupchat the three of them share

[i-eat-mold]

I am eating your sketch refs of teen skk

they are yummy and very scrumptious

apologies they are GONE now but nom nom nom

NO MY CHILDREN

i had to draw this so quickly on my phone but you don’t understand i HAD to. so here’s a snack for you my guy

they sent this to mori

[morningmask27]

Love being the one who has to be responsible for all the organization bs in a group work </3

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Sweetheart' ༄࿔ B.C. & Y.J.

⤷ Spit Roasting | Brat Taming  |  Manhandling

♱ word count: ~4k (i dont wanna talk about it.)

♱ warnings: *inhales* fem!reader, threesome, frat leader! Chan and frat boy! Jeongin, reader is a teeny bit of a brat, brat taming, some fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex, light system mentioned but not used, spit roasting/eiffel towering, manhandling, mention of deepthroating, 2 "good girl"s, choking, impact play (1 face slap and like 1 spank), big cock channie AND soft-hard dom channie? (hard to explain but act surprised.), squirting, mention of sharing with other members of the frat (its only the rest of skz in the frat but specifically mean dom minho is named), jeongin films you with his phone and says hes gonna send it to the frat groupchat lol… i think thats it? Idk this was a fever dream

♱ notes: pov: sian getting carried away when she enjoys writing something. also the urge to make this a series is so strong...

mostly proofread, but may be some mistakes/inconsistencies

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Y/N… Can you uh…” Jeongin clears his throat and rubs his face with both hands as if trying to keep his composure. “Can I have a cup of water?” You smile and nod, standing on your feet and walking out of your room to get him some water. Once you closed the door behind you, after telling them you’d bring some snacks too, Jeongin looked over to his friend desperately.

“Hyung. I am… not your strongest soldier.” The comment in itself was enough to make Chan burst out laughing, but he tried not to grab too much attention so he chose to snicker into his arm instead.

“Breathe man.” Chan laughed and leaned back on his arms, stretching and taking some breaths himself. “I’m not fairing that well either haha… I don’t think she even realizes what she’s doing.”

The most popular frat’s leader, Chan, and his youngest junior, Jeongin, are in your bedroom. And you, unfortunately, had agreed to tutor them after one long day in the library. They had the other 6 members with them and you were particularly stressed from preparing for a final later that day, so you arguably weren’t very clear-minded when you agreed to it.

Nonetheless, you kept your word and, after exchanging numbers with Chan, you sent them your address as well as a list of what days and times were best. It surprisingly wasn’t hard to find a time that worked for all three of you, and the study date was quickly decided. When the day came and you got a knock on your door and you opened it still in your pajamas, both sides were shocked at what they saw.

They had never seen any skin other than your arms, and sometimes your legs on the rare occasion that you wore a skirt. So when they were met with you in a crop top tank top and short shorts, they felt something awaken in them. Jeongin even more so, considering he had a secret little crush on you that only his frat knew about.

And you were surprised because you had completely forgotten that you agreed to tutor them. But considering they had already seen your outfit, you hadn’t bothered to change out of it. Which ultimately led to your current situation: your notebooks and their textbooks spread across your floor alongside them, with their painful bulges hidden underneath their hoodies.

You return only 15 minutes later with 4 bottles of water and a big plate of bagel bites. Both men drop everything instantly and lunge for the plate, taking it from you to “help” you carry everything, but in reality just so they can demolish the food. You smile and shake your head endearingly, a little too entertained by the childish action.

Through their fiending, Chan still offers you the plate many times and makes sure they leave enough for you to eat as well. Then, once both are satisfied and calmed down a little bit, they allow you to continue the lesson. Everything goes well for another 30 minutes until a slip-up happens with your wardrobe.

Chan notices first, and he feels his fingers twitching when you lean forward to point out something to Jeongin. You slightly lean over him in the process and the hand to hold yourself up rests right beside his thigh. The size difference between his thigh and your hand is enough to make his mind wander, but then he watches very closely as the strap of your tank top slowly falls down your shoulder from the new position.

Jeongin himself feels his own composure completely break at his sight. You leaning close to his face was enough to get him flustered, but the sight of your tank top strap slowly falling makes his cock twitch. Then, as if to add insult to injury, you shift just the slightest amount and your tank top loosens around your torso until it now hovers below your chest, giving him a good view of your tits, and a very slight view of your nipple.

Jeongin’s breath catches in his throat and he snaps his head to his eldest brother. “Hyung..” You hear it and look up at them curiously. The redness in their faces gives away that something happened, but it doesn’t hit you until Chan calls your name breathlessly and tugs at your fallen strap. Both men look at you with dark eyes and you feel your heart skip a beat when you realize that you just flashed 2 members of the most popular frat in the fucking state.

“Uh… Sorry… I didn’t realize-” You quickly fix your posture and your strap, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to hide it from them. Chan chuckles and looks you up and down, making your face flush even harder.

“It’s ok, baby. But I think we’ve done enough studying today. I think you should help us with something else now.” He leans forward and grabs your arms, tearing them away from your chest and helping you to your feet. He leads you to the bed, leaving Jeongin in awe on the floor left to do nothing but watch the situation unfold.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N-nie…” He starts once he softly pushes you to sit down. He brings one of his veiny hands to your cheek, rubbing his thumb against it soothingly as he talks, “You’ve helped us so much already, but there’s one more thing we both need from you if that’s ok?” His gaze is strong but comforting as he checks for consent, and you find yourself nodding quietly despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Jeongin rises to his feet eagerly, taking a seat next to you and immediately leaning into you, resting his hand on your lower back. He leans into your neck and breathes in the scent of your body wash, sighing into your ear at the way it makes his cock twitch. Chan laughs and uses the hand on your cheek to lean your head to the side for the younger man.

“Help us and we’ll help you, okay baby?” You nod and look up at him under your lashes, moaning quietly from the lips that latch themselves on your neck. “You gotta tell us what you like and don’t like though, yeah?”

��Mkay…” Your eyes flutter shut and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Jeongin bites down on your neck, his other hand now resting on your inner thigh and squeezing it.

“Can we be rough with you?” You nod. “Haha… Yeah? Can we smack you around a little too?” Your eyes snap open and you nod eagerly when your eyes meet. He smirks and bites his lip, the hand on your cheek sneaking its thumb into your mouth. He opens his mouth to tell you to suck but moans quietly when you do it on your own.

“Good girl…” His eyes flicker down to Jeongin, and the smile on his face widens when he asks the next question. “Wanna get Eiffel Towered? Jeonginnie here is a bit eager with it, he might fuck you silly, but I’m a little too big for you to take this soon. Don’t wanna hurt you just yet.” He winks at the last sentence and pushes his thumb against your tongue.

When you nod, his body visibly bristles and he removes his finger in favor of tugging at the hem of your shorts, silently asking if he can take them off. You don’t bother replying and just lift your hips, just enough for him to pull them off along with your panties. You gasp when Jeongin’s hand immediately returns to your thigh, this time kneading the fat just an inch or two from where you need them the most.

Chan takes a seat opposite of Jeongin, on the other side of you, and rests his hand on the inner thigh of your other leg. He pulls it apart from the one Jeongin was squeezing and the younger man, despite being distracted with your neck, catches on and spreads you open.

You’re exposed to them both and, for the first time since he sat down, Jeongin releases your neck to take in the sight of your pussy. He sighs to himself and rests his forehead against your temple as he finally trails his fingers higher, ghosting them through your wet folds.

Your legs kick and Chan tightens his grip on your leg when Jeongin immediately sinks two long fingers into your hole, curling them off the bat and overwhelming you in all the right ways. Chan’s hand hooks your leg over his lap and moves to roughly play with your clit as Jeongin starts fingering you. He even leans down, craning his neck to land kisses all over your chest.

He lets up on your clit for just a second so he can tug your tank top under both of your tits, giving him better access. Then, he goes back to rubbing rough circles as his mouth ventures lower to your nipple. Your jaw drops and you lean back on your hands as you let them play with you freely, thoroughly enjoying all the attention.

Your moans are quiet and shaky, egging them on further as they work your body towards an orgasm. Chan is busy harshly sucking your left nipple as Jeongin speaks up for the first time in a while, his breath fanning your neck and making you shiver.

“You look so hot… Does this feel good, honey?” He curls his fingers up, digging his fingertips on the very edge of your g-spot.

“Jeongin… up more please-“ You whine and look at him desperately. He listens and shoves his fingers deeper, now angling them perfectly into your g-spot. You respond by furrowing your eyebrows and throwing your head back with a loud moan.

“Haha. There?”

“Uh-huh…” Chan laughs at your response and removes his fingers from your clit, nudging Jeongin away at the same time. You whine at the loss and fix your neck to look between them. “W-Why?”

Chan doesn’t answer and pulls you to your feet, yanking your tank top over your head. He places a kiss on each of your tits before kissing his way up to your neck, then stopping at your lips where he pushes his onto yours. You start to wrap your hands around his neck only to be spun around and held in place by Jeongin.

Jeongin pulls you into him and bites down on the opposite side of your neck that he had marked earlier as you faintly hear Chan undressing behind you. It’s only then that you notice the hardness pushing against your thigh and the bareness of the man in front of you. You wrap your hand around his dick and stroke him eagerly while he sucks more hickies into your skin.

Once Chan undresses fully, he crawls up your bed and rests on his knees near your pillows. Jeongin glances over at the older man and reluctantly pulls away, turning you back around and shoving you onto your hands and knees on your bed.

You grunt at the roughness but are given no time to react further as Chan drags you up the bed. You come face to face with his cock; hard, veiny, and an angry red. Your jaw drops and you look up at him to see a smirk plastered on his face. Yeah… you need him in you.

“Told you I was big, baby girl.” You whine and wrap your hand around him, placing a kiss on his tip as you revel in the sheer weight of him. “‘M not trying to break you today. Maybe next time, yeah?” You nod and his thumb pulls at your bottom lip. He doesn’t need to say anything else because you obey his command before it even leaves his lips.

Your lips wrap around him as the bed dips behind you, but you’re too enamored by his cock to pay the other man any mind. Chan moans loudly and tangles his fingers in your hair as Jeongin, now kneeling behind you, slides his tip through your folds a few times. “Ready?” He huffs out impatiently, but not wanting to force anything. He gets what he wants as soon as the question leaves his mouth because you push your hips back and grind against him.

The action causes his tip to slip into you for a split second and it’s all it takes for him to lose his composure. He curses and digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as he shoves his entire length into you at once. You moan around Chan, making him also moan out at the vibrations of your throat. The hand in your hair tightens as Jeongin finds a frantic pace that also fucks you onto Chan’s cock simultaneously.

It's almost brutal the way Jeongin’s hips slam against yours. Even his balls find a way to smack against your folds and it brings your orgasm even closer than before. Your body is still wound up from them playing with your pussy, and you can’t control the constant clenching it provides to the younger of the two. He moans loudly and his hips stutter at a particularly tight hold from you.

“Shit. You’re clenching me like crazy, honey. Gonna cum already?” Your hand tightens around Chan’s base and you moan around him, nodding as best as you can with him half down your throat.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Your eyes snap up to meet Chan’s and he stares back sternly, eyes narrowing. A whine leaves your throat subconsciously and he immediately shakes his head, standing his ground. The hand in your hair loosens slightly as you pull off of him, and you have to plead through your moans to get your point across.

“Please! I can’t hold it…” His hand leaves your hair completely and grabs onto your chin instead, roughly pulling you up to sit upright.

“I said no, so you’re not allowed to cum yet.”

He squeezes your cheeks and holds you in place as Jeongin’s thrusts speed up. He’s desperate to chase his own orgasm, and he doesn’t spare a thought to your struggle. He’s fucking into you so fast that your eyes flutter open and closed almost constantly. Chan’s eyes stay on your face the whole time, and the second he sees you go slack-jawed, he growls.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” The eager cock constantly pummeling your insides was too much, especially at this new angle, but the sheer anger in his voice made some sick part of you happy, inadvertently cursing you to cum. Quiet grunts follow loud moans as you cum, and Jeongin fucks you through it, using your tightness to milk himself dry.

Chan allowed Jeongin to use you to ride out his orgasm up until the second he pulled out. Then he snatched you from under him and flipped you onto your back under himself. Jeongin laughed somewhere behind you at the aggressiveness and you swore you could hear your heart beating out your ass.

“Something tells me you know about the light system.”

Chan’s face was painted with anger, and you could feel that anger seep into the way he slapped his cock onto your used folds. You stayed quiet, a part of you wondering how far you could push him, and you got the reaction you wanted when his hand came down on your thigh when you still didn’t answer. You gasp and clench around nothing. Then, he waits only a few more seconds until you nod your head repeatedly, giving him the answer he wanted. You try to rise slightly to rest on your elbows, but Chan shoves you backward with a tsk.

“Good. Use it, yeah?”

He sinks himself into you before he can finish his own sentence, and you both hiss at the intrusion. He’s definitely bigger than Jeongin, maybe just as long, but the girth of him is enough to have your head spinning already. Your nails dig into the sheets as he shoves inch by inch into you, not slow enough to let you stretch properly, but slow enough to make you grow impatient. He’s not even bottomed out all the way before he’s stopping. Part of you is thankful because you can already feel him in your stomach, but the other side of you wants it all.

“Baby. Give it a second.” You whine and thrash your head around, doing everything in your power to push yourself back onto him. Chan sighs annoyedly and digs his fingertips into your hips to hold you still. Before he has to move another muscle the bed dips and a set of long fingers tightly squeeze your throat.

“Play nice for Channie, Y/N. It’s one thing to piss him off, but it’s another to piss us both off.” Jeongin leans down to whisper in your ear, but Chan still catches onto it. He also catches onto the way your walls flutter around his cock at the implication, and he realizes what the two of them have gotten into.

“Who would’ve thought the school’s resident good girl is a fucking brat.” He chuckles and talks under his breath. Jeongin snickers to himself and backs his face away to watch Chan plant his hands on either side of your waist in order to lean forward. 

“Aren’t I right? Your little pussy really liked the thought of pissing us both off.”

Your lips turn into a fine line and you look at him incredulously, lips slightly downturned. Then, as if to dig your own grave, your gaze drops from him and you stare off to the right. He follows your gaze curiously and he can feel the vein in his forehead pop out when you find more interest in your ceiling fan. His tongue pokes into his cheek and he digs his hands farther into your mattress.

“Yeah, nah. That’s fine.” His hips reel back and slam forward again, this time forcing the rest of his length into you. Your demeanor falters and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to try and keep quiet. You’re bad at hiding it though, and the way your eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper with each thrust gives you away. Both men laugh at the sight of you struggling to stay defiant, and Jeongin finally loosens his hold on your neck in favor of sneaking that hand down to pinch your nipple.

Chan’s hips are bruising, more so than Jeongin’s, as he doesn’t hesitate to hold back. Now that he has a better idea of what you like, he’s not afraid to give you everything. His movements prove that further as he pulls out almost all the way just to sink in fully, and repeating the action constantly all while going fast enough to render you brainless. 

When that stubbornness finally gives out and your gaze falls between your legs, your whole body shakes at the sight of his thick cock entering your body. Your eyes slowly trail up, taking in the sweat dripping from his stomach and then the redness that has taken over his chest and his neck. Your eyes finally reach his and he smiles at you sinisterly. “You done?” He tilts his head playfully and rolls his hips deeply, making your eyes squeeze closed for a moment.

“Ff… Fuck you.”

His hips come to a stop and you swear you can see his lips twitch.

“Yeah…?” It comes out quiet and alongside a breathy, in disbelief, laugh. Your lips part to say another snarky comment and his hand comes down on your cheek, rendering you speechless. Your body tenses up and you clench tightly around him. He definitely didn’t miss the way you moaned at it either.

“C’mon, pretty. Be good for me.” His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes it tightly, cutting off some of your airflow. It makes your head spin, especially when his hips start moving again. He’s trying to convince you to play nice before he forces you to. But he realizes real quick that it just isn’t working. And you, instead, just furrow your eyebrows and dig your nails into the forearm of the hand that’s choking you. He grunts and releases your neck, this time wrapping both his hands around the underside of your knees. He pushes them up until you’re folded in half and your knees are by your ears.

“Ah! C-Chan!”

“That’s right, baby. Say my name~” Jeongin sits up on his knees and replaces Chan’s hands with his own, using some of his own body weight to hold your legs down. Now that he’s able to use his hands freely, Chan uses the thumb on one of his hands to spread your pussy lips open for him, giving him a better view of his cock splitting you open.

“Shit! Wait you’re- mmmmfuck! You’re too deep, Chan!” Your hands push against his stomach to try and push him out, but he shoves your hands away with his other hand. That same hand comes down on the side of your ass, making Chan sigh dreamily as your walls squeeze him so snuggly.

“This pretty pussy fits me so well baby. Want me to cum inside and make you ours? ‘Wanna be our frat’s pretty little sweetheart?” He moans loudly at the thought, and then once again when you nod and look up at him with teary eyes. Jeongin himself smirks at the thought and hovers his face over yours.

“That bratty little attitude of yours will get fucked out the window, honey. We got a looot of meanies over there. Minho-hyung will have a lot of fun with you.” Your eyes squeeze shut, already knowing who Minho was and hearing stories about how he was in bed. Most girls agree on the same two words: animalistic and straight-up mean.

“I should film Channie-hyung fucking you like this and send it to the group chat. Maybe even tell them we got ourselves a little toy. What do you think, hyung?” You hear the ding of his phone starting a recording and you’re cumming before you realize it; gushing around Chan and causing loud squelching noises to fill the room.

Chan laughs with his chest and his whole body shakes as he cums, his hands squeezing the flesh of your hips as he bottoms out one final time to cum deep inside. He doesn’t need to fuck you through his orgasm thanks to the way your walls continue to clench around him, almost suffocating him with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You squeal when he finally slides out of you, every vein on his cock making you even more overly sensitive. Jeongin giggles and slides next to you on the bed, pulling you into his chest and running his hands down your back. Chan leans forward and places a kiss on your temple before swiftly leaving the room, stating he’s just going to get a washcloth to clean you off.

“You okay?” Jeongin kisses your neck softly and trails his kisses to the corner of your mouth. You hum and let your eyes become lidded, heavy with exhaustion. He can see it in your face and he coos, “You can sleep. Channie and I will take care of everything.” He smiles sweetly and tucks your hair behind your head, trying to wipe some of the sweat off your forehead too.

You hadn’t planned on any of this happening, but his fingers ghosting along your arms and all over your back are all too convincing as they urge your eyes to close. In seconds, you’re falling asleep to the feeling of Jeongin caressing your body and his lips repeatedly pushing against your cheek.

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

@dreamingaboutjisung @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght @4l17h4

@felixsangelicfreckles

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Fourteen

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, jealous lando, protective grid, sexual content

Notes — Welcome to the 2021 Formula One season! (Testing, but still... it counts). Also... hehehehehehehe double update <3

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x

2021

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2021 F1 Grid

Lewis H. A warm welcome to our 2021 rookies! Mick, and Yuki :)

Lando N. Yeah, welcome or whatever More importantly, does anyone know if I can call up the Apple store in Woking and get them to deliver to me? Even though it’s closed rn

Lewis H. What happened? Did her iPad break?

Lando N. Yeah mate, completely toast.

Max V. Shit. I can have one express delivered to your flat, Lando. It is, of course, a work expense.

Yuki T. Uh hey I guess! I thought this was a work only chat? Did I get the wrong briefing?

George R. It usually is, but as admin I allow Amelia-based chat @Yuki

Mick S. Hey! Great to be here. Um, just curious though. Who is Amelia?

Max V. My lead technical engineer.

Lando N. My girlfriend.

Lewis H. Zak Brown’s daughter.

Fernando A. Her iPad is broken? I will bring her one now. Lando, send me your home address.

Mick S. Ohhh, I actually know Amelia Brown!

Lando N. ?????????? @Mick

Fernando A. Lando you have not sent me your address.

Max V. @Fernando I have already purchased the iPad.

Mick S. @Lando we met years ago, mate. She used to ski with her family where mine did in the winter.

Lando N. You heard the part where she’s my girlfriend, yeah @Mick?

Mick S. Yes…

Lando N. Good.

Fernando A. @Max She will need it delivered to her soon.

Charles L. It finally broke? Wow. Lasted far longer than I believed it would.

Lando N. @Charles Not a good time for jokes, mate. She’s devastated

Daniel R. Should I start carrying a spare iPad to races with me just in case? LOL.

Lando N. Wait that’s a good idea Somebody write that down Max write that down

Max V. I purchased three. I will carry the spares

Fernando A. Vamos, Max!

Pierre G. I bet the rookies are so confused lmao. Welcome to the grid group chat. We discuss penalties, race conditions, plane shares, and Amelia Brown.

Carlos S. @Lando How is she? Did she freak out?

Lando N. She’s good now. All chill.

Lewis H. Tell her that I just bought her a new bunny sticker book. I’ll give it to her at testing.

Lance S. If I buy her the entire Apple company, do you think she will come and fix the Aston Martin car?

Max V. NO.

Yuki T. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen in any grid group chat, and the f2 chat used to get weird lol

George R. Welcome to the grid, Yuki. Keep your head on straight, and if you ever find a lost iPad with a bunny sticker on it anywhere in the paddock, make sure it gets back to Amelia asap

Lando N. Thats important for all of the rookies to know @Mick @Yuki 

Mick S. Sure I’ll keep an eye out!

Lando N. Actually I change my mind Mick if you see an iPad just leave it yeah :) 

Mick S. ????

Pierre G. This is going to be a great year. 

Checo P. All of the other drivers have this chat muted, yes?

Kimi R. Yes. 

— 

Amelia was crouched down by Max's car, her hand resting on the tire as she scanned through the data on her iPad. The numbers on the screen felt too slow, almost static, compared to the racing thoughts racing through her head.

Beside her, Jos loomed over her, a red-ink pen poised above her little black notebook. He was taking notes for her. Her mind was moving faster than her hands could keep up, and sometimes, just sometimes, she needed someone like him, methodical, steady, and patient, to help her process it all.

Her fingers flicked over the screen, swiping through the data from Max's morning run, when she paused, eyes flicking to Jos. “You see what I see?” she asked, her voice low, as if speaking any louder might break the delicate focus she’d managed to carve out for herself.

Jos nodded, his eyes scanning the information on the screen before looking back down at the scribbles he’d started in her notebook. “More rear stability in the high-speed corners. We’ll need to adjust the dampers again,” he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact.

Amelia’s eyes tightened slightly as she thought. “We might need to soften the rear more. The front’s too reactive. Max is going to be fighting it in corners three and four, especially.” She tapped the screen lightly, zooming in on the section of the track map. “The car’s settling into a snap too fast, can’t keep up with the rear load in the high-speed sections.”

Jos made a mark in her notebook. “Front end’s still too eager, then?” He sighed. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Amelia made a face. “We soften that just a little bit more. Max needs more confidence in the corners. Less initial bite, more consistency. Maybe tweak the ride height slightly too.” Her words were coming faster now as the solution to their issues fell into place in her brain. 

As the day wore on, Max’s car was fine-tuned with the adjustments, and Amelia watched on with satisfaction as everything came together in perfect harmony. 

They had a plan. The tweaks would work. Max would be happy with the handling.

She turned to Jos when the mechanics started to wheel Max’s car back into the garage for the final time, day one of testing officially over, giving him a small but appreciative smile.

He pulled her notebook out of the pocket of his jeans and handed it over. “I hope you can understand my handwriting.” 

— 

Amelia sat opposite Max at one of the small team tables in the Red Bull hospitality unit. Most of the staff had already filtered out for the night, their voices fading down the hallway as engineers, PR reps, and mechanics headed for shuttles and taxis. But the two of them lingered — Amelia, still editing Jos’ scribbled notes from earlier in the day, and Max, who had quietly gotten into the habit of not leaving until she did.

It was almost sweet. He dropped her off to Lando at her hotel room at the end of every day like she was a preschooler getting passed between divorced parents. She hadn’t said anything about it, partly because it was practical, and partly because she didn’t mind it. It was nice not to have to worry about being alone.

Across from her, Max was hunched low in his chair, arms folded tight across his chest, mouth set in a hard line. His gaze flicked from the tabletop to her notebook and back again, a rhythm she’d seen a hundred times before. It meant he was thinking. Hard. Or more likely, overthinking.

She didn’t bother looking up. “Just say it.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been fidgeting with your straw for six minutes. It’s starting to irritate me.”

Max exhaled through his nose, leaning back into the bench with a groan. “You are very annoying.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, finally meeting his eyes. “Max, tell me.”

He hesitated, then shifted forward, resting his elbows on the table. There was a pause, a rare, tentative kind, and then, quieter than usual, he said, “I’m nervous.”

That made her put the pen down.

“For the season?” she asked, although she already suspected the answer.

Max nodded. “Everyone keeps saying 2021 is my year. Like it’s inevitable. Like this is it. And I want it — Fuck, I want it so bad. I’ve worked for it my whole life. But now that it’s here, I don’t know…” He rubbed a hand down his face. “What if it doesn’t happen?”

“It might not,” Amelia said plainly.

Max looked like he wanted to argue, but stopped short, blinking at her. “Comforting.”

“You’re not asking for comfort,” she said. “You’re asking if you’re good enough. And yes, you are. But this sport doesn’t always care about that.”

He let that sit for a moment. Nodded.

Then, quieter still, “There’s something else.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“I met someone. Over the break.”

She made a face. “Someone?”

He groaned. “Don’t do the eyebrow thing.”

She relaxed her face. “Who did you meet?”

Max scratched at the edge of the table. “I met her in Monaco. She’s nice. A lawyer . She thinks I’m just… Max. I didn’t tell her about the racing. About… everything. She doesn’t follow F1.”

Amelia leaned forward slightly. “So she doesn’t know who you are.”

He shrugged helplessly. “She knows who I am. Just not… what I do.”

Amelia tilted her head. “And you like that?”

“I think so,” he said. “It’s peaceful. She talks to me like a normal person. No hero-worship, no pressure. Just… calm.”

“You’re lying to her, essentially,” she said bluntly. “Not a good foundation for a relationship.”

He shot her a withering look. “Jesus. You’re worse than my dad.”

“I take that as a compliment. We have the same goal.”

“I know.”

She looked down at her notebook, flipping a page and skimming it for a second. “You think you can manage both? A relationship and a championship battle?”

He hesitated. “Is that selfish?”

“No,” she said, then looked back at him. “But it might be a bit stupid.”

Max chuckled dryly. “Thanks.”

“I’m not saying you can’t have both,” Amelia added. “I’m just saying that it probably won’t work.” 

He frowned, nodded slowly, then said, “But you’re managing your relationship and my championship.”

“I’m not the one driving the car, Max.” She argued. 

“Still,” he muttered. “You’re making it work. I could make it work.”

She shrugged. “Okay. Is she nice?”

Max nodded, “I almost ran her over.”

She blinked at him. “Oh. That’s… romantic?” She tried. 

He laughed shortly. “She was in a rush, didn’t look properly. I apologised and gave her a ride to work. She— she, uh, thinks that I’m just some wealthy businessman’s son, or something.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, anxiety curling in the pit of her stomach. “You should stop lying to her. I would… I would not like it if I was in that situation and I found out that I was being lied to.” 

Max sighed. Nodded. 

Then he stood, grabbed both their jackets, and slung hers over the back of her chair. “Come on. Let’s get you to your boyfriend before he starts texting me again asking where you are.”

She gave him a flat look. “He has a GPS tracker on my phone.” 

Max rolled his eyes. “Of course he does. Typical Norris.”

She shrugged. “It’s sweet. Sometimes I get lost and he has to come and find me.” 

Max laughed, and for the first time all day, some of the tightness left his posture. “Yeah,” he said, holding the door open for her. “Probably good that he has it, then.” 

— 

The lights of Manama twinkled in the distance, warm and hazy against the desert night. From the balcony of their hotel suite, the city looked like it belonged to another world; quiet and golden and slow in a way the paddock never was. The hum of the air conditioning inside was replaced by the occasional distant honk of a car, or the hush of wind weaving through the palm trees below.

Amelia was seated cross-legged on one of the outdoor chairs, wrapped in a white robe, her hair still damp from her shower. Lando, in a t-shirt and joggers, was fiddling with a tiny bottle opener, attempting to open a bottle of some obscure sparkling drink he’d insisted was “romantic, okay baby? Trust me.”

Their room service tray sat between them on the small table. Grilled flatbreads, mezze, roasted lamb. Lando had ordered for them and he’d gotten everything right.

“I don’t know how you always remember this stuff,” she said, dipping a piece of bread into a tangy yogurt sauce.

Lando grinned, finally getting the bottle open with a victorious pop. “Because I listen when you talk. I know the face you make when you think something tastes bad or has a yucky texture. I have eyes. Shocking, I know.”

Amelia gave him a pointed look. “Last week, you kissed my eyeball because you were being lazy and tried to kiss me with your eyes closed.”

“Shut up.” He huffed. 

She laughed quietly, curling into him, giving him a bit of the blanket. “I think Max might be in love,” she said suddenly.

Lando blinked. “Max? Verstappen?”

“Mm,” she nodded, chewing. “He told me today that he met someone over the winter. She doesn’t know who he is. Like, really doesn’t know. Thinks he’s just some rich guy named Max.”

Lando made a face. “That… feels impossible.”

“She’s apparently very disconnected. Doesn’t follow the sport. Max likes it.”

Lando nodded slowly. “Weird. But kind of sweet, I guess.”

She frowned at him. “I told him he shouldn’t be dating during a title fight.”

“Very romantic of you.” Lando teased. 

She shrugged. “I never said I was romantic.”

“No,” he said. “But you are.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t disagree. Instead, she reached for his hand where it rested on the table, her fingers brushing over his lightly. “I hope you do very well this year, Lan.” She told him, earnest and hopeful. “You deserve it.” 

Lando turned his hand over to lace their fingers together. “So do you. Deserve to do well, I mean. You’ve worked so hard this past year. You deserve to see it pay off.”

Amelia didn’t say anything right away. She just leaned over and kissed him; soft, sweet, clinging. It wasn’t meant to lead anywhere at first, just a thank you. But she didn’t pull away. And he didn’t let her go.

She ended up in his lap, her legs curled against his chest, her robe brushing his knees. His hands slid instinctively around her back, fingers splaying wide against the thin fabric, grounding her. Grounding himself.

They stayed like that for a long time. The balcony lights dimmed behind them. The city hummed faintly in the distance, the last remnants of dinner cooling on the table, the silence between them easy.

Then, gently, she climbed off of him and stood. Her bare feet whispered against the tile as she stepped forward, and she stopped just in front of where he sat, between his knees. Her eyes searched his face for a beat, then she reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

“Come inside with me?”

Lando’s breath caught slightly. He looked up at her, her expression steady, soft, open, and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Inside, the hotel room was cast in warm light, golden from a low bedside lamp. The curtains were drawn against the city, muffling the world outside. The bed was turned down, sheets crisp, pillows fluffed. A quiet kind of invitation.

She tugged him by the hand toward the bed, and he followed without a word, heart thudding in his chest.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t awkward.

There was a kind of reverence to the way they undressed, slow, curious. Amelia’s robe slipped from her shoulders, caught briefly on her elbows before pooling at her feet. Lando’s hands hovered just for a second before brushing up her arms, like he was making sure she wouldn’t vanish if he touched her too quickly.

Their kisses deepened, still hesitant but filled with intent, with the weight of everything they’d been building toward for over a year. Every laugh, every shared moment of delicate intimacy, every time they’d caught each other’s eyes across a garage or a hotel lobby, it all settled into the space between them.

Lando’s mouth trailed across her skin with an almost startled sort of wonder, like he was learning a language he’d been waiting to speak. Her fingers threaded through his curls, tugging gently when his lips brushed the hollow of her throat. They moved together with quiet urgency, limbs tangled, breath catching against skin.

At one point, Lando paused, hovering just above her, his eyes sweeping across her face, flushed, focused, real.

“You’re so... fuck,” he whispered, barely audible.

Amelia blinked, lips curling faintly. “Not sure that’s a compliment.”

He kissed the curve of her shoulder, then her collarbone. “It is,” he murmured. “It really is.”

And when they finally settled under the covers, tangled together with her head tucked beneath his chin, Lando let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

She didn’t say much, but her fingers curled into his shirt like she wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon, and that was enough. 

— 

The sunlight was already creeping through the sliver of the curtains when Lando stirred, warmth pooling low in his stomach before he was even fully awake. For a moment, he didn’t move, just blinked up at the ceiling, trying to remember if he’d dreamt the night before, or if it had really happened.

Then she shifted against him.

Amelia was tucked beneath his arm, hair a little wild against his chest, one bare leg tangled over his. Her cheek was pressed just below his collarbone, lips slightly parted, her breath steady and warm against his skin.

Definitely not a dream.

He smiled, slow, stupid, unbelievably content.

She felt it too, maybe, his laugh or the way his fingers brushed along her back, because she mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a complaint and burrowed closer, clearly not ready to be awake yet.

Lando tilted his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Morning, baby.”

She made a noise that was more sigh than word. “Mm. No.”

“No what?”

“No talking,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “Too early.”

He laughed quietly, the sound muffled by her hair. “It’s almost seven.”

“Too early for you to be this cheerful.” She grumbled.

Lando shifted just enough to look down at her, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “I’m not cheerful.”

“You’re smiling.”

He smiled wider. “Can you blame me?”

She cracked an eye open, blinking up at him. Her face was still soft from sleep, a little puffy and makeup-free, but to him, she looked... ridiculously beautiful.

“What?” she asked, because he was staring.

“Nothing,” he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “I just really like waking up next to you.”

Her expression shifted slightly. And then, a second later, she exhaled and said quietly, “I like it, too.”

Lando kissed her, just a little one, lazy and warm.

They lay tangled in the sheets, the morning light spilling gently across the room. For a while, neither of them moved, perfectly content to exist in the quiet, wrapped up in warmth and each other.

Eventually, Amelia stirred, shifting just enough to reach over to the nightstand. She blinked blearily at her phone and then sighed and glanced across the room.

“Shit,” she muttered. “I forgot to charge my iPad.”

Lando, still half-asleep, pressed a slow kiss to her bare shoulder. “I plugged it in when I got up in the middle of the night to go for a piss.”

She turned to look at him, her expression soft, a little surprised. Her voice came quiet. “You did?”

He nodded, eyes still heavy with sleep. “Didn’t want you waking up to it dead.”

A pause. Then she gave him the smallest pout, sleepy and affectionate and so purely her. “I love you.”

He broke into a grin, one of those quiet, full-body smiles that lived in his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured, brushing her hair back. “I love you too.”

—

The McLaren motorhome was buzzing with early morning energy, the consistent hum of coffee machines working overtime. Amelia slipped through the front doors with her badge swinging around her neck, hair still damp from a rushed shower, and Lando trailing behind her, half-yawning into a croissant.

Zak spotted them first, already seated at one of the corner tables with Daniel, who was halfway through a heaping plate of scrambled eggs and talking animatedly about something.

“There’s my girl,” Zak called, waving them over.

Amelia dropped into the seat beside her dad with a tired sigh. “Morning, dad.” She kissed his cheek. 

“You sound tired,” he frowned at her, sipping his coffee.

Lando slid into the chair beside her, nudging her with his knee under the table. She handed him a napkin in response, gesturing for him to wipe the crumbs away from his face, and he smiled. 

Daniel looked between them, eyebrows raised. “You must be Amelia. I’m Daniel. Can’t actually believe we’ve not met properly before now.” 

“I know.” Amelia agreed, already reaching across the table for a muffin.

Daniel leaned in a little, grinning. “Lando talks about you all the damn time. In debriefs, pre-race meetings, on his radio—”

“Please stop talking,” Lando glared at his new teammate, clearly embarrassed.

“She’s worth talking about,” Zak laughed, patting Amelia on the shoulder with a fond smile.

Daniel smirked at Lando, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. Lando just narrowed his eyes at him, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Amelia took another bite of her muffin, savouring her food. But before she could finish, her phone buzzed violently against the table. It was from Max.

iMessage — 7:33am

Max Verstappen Are you here, sister? I want to talk about my steering set-up

Amelia On my way to you now.

She shoved the rest of her muffin into her mouth and stood up in one swift motion. “Okay. I gotta go.”

Lando looked up, surprised. “Already?”

Amelia kissed him quickly on the cheek, her lips lingering for just a second longer than expected. She gave her dad a quick shoulder squeeze before smiling at Daniel, her usual bluntness softened by a bit of shyness she wasn’t used to showing in front of him. “Max wants my advice.”

Zak called after her with a grin. “Tell Jos I want my daughter back for lunch.”

“No promises,” she replied with a glance over her shoulder, already speed-walking toward the exit. Her hair bounced with each step, and her phone was pressed to her ear before she even made it out of the motorhome.

Daniel leaned toward Lando as she disappeared down the hallway. “You’re screwed, brother.”

Lando shot him a look, kicking him under the table. “Shut up.”

— 

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2021 F1 Grid

Yuki T. I have Amelia’s iPad in AlphaTauri garage

Lewis H. Yeah, this has to be a new record.

Lando N. Lol she’s just been rly busy. Probably hasn’t noticed she hasn’t got it yet

Max V. She just noticed and started freaking out. @Yuki I’m on my way to get it.

Lando N. She okay @Max?

Max V. Yes mate, no need to worry.

Mick S. @Max Can I pop by your garage and say hi to her? It’s been years!

Lando N. @Max Say no. Max, say no. Max, say no.

Max V. @Mick No, she is too busy for friends.

Lando N. LMAO, REKT @Mick.

Mick S. Bro????? I really don’t want to steal your girlfriend 😭

Fernando A. You do not believe my Amelia is good enough for you, Schumacher?

Max V. What the fuck Mick

Charles L. Uh oh 😬😬

Pierre G. Bro that was NOT the right thing to say 😭

Max V. @Mick She wouldn’t even look your way. 

Lando N. Wild angle, mate @Mick

George R. We are witnessing a man dig his own grave live in chat

Daniel R. *shovels faster* Keep going, Mick. Say you think she’s boring next.

Sebastian V. This feels like bullying.

Yuki T. I think it is  

Carlos S. @Mick Just lie down. Accept it. The storm will pass.

Mick S. I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT 😭😭😭 I literally just meant she’s your girlfriend and I respect that! @Lando

Lando N. Sure you did. 

Fernando A. In my country we have a saying — "Schumacher has placed his own foot in his own mouth."

Lewis H. Pick your words better next time yeah? @Mick

Lance S. This is why rookies don’t get access to Amelia.

Esteban O. Wait does that mean I have access to Amelia?

Max V. No.

Fernando A. Absolutely not.

Lando N. You do not.

Valtteri B. I do not speak much in this chat but I just want to say: Mick, this is very funny.

Antonio G. +1

Nicholas L. same 😭

Sebastian V. Let it be a lesson to all of us. Never try to be polite in here. It will be weaponised.

Charles L. I miss when this chat was about tyre pressures and strategy.

George R. That’s adorable. It’s never been that.

NEXT CHAPTER

[holyblonded]

Had a funny thought that Michelle kang is lurking to get chickie , estrella, azulita to her lyon team. Every transfer season barca and arsenal has had to reject offer from lyon and leah has personally threatened chickie's manager not to talk to lyon and well for estrella and azulita, alexia is personally keeping a close tab

michelle kang has a whole folder labeled “future lyon stars” and right at the top, highlighted, bookmarked, probably bedazzled, are three names: chickie, estrella, and azulita.

every transfer window like clockwork, lyon sends a fresh, shiny offer to barça and arsenal. the emails are practically love letters. “we believe in your talent. lyon is the perfect environment. imagine the legacy.”

barça just auto-replies with “no.”

arsenal once replied with a meme of sam kerr holding chickie like a football.

leah has taken it personally. after the first offer came in, she cornered chickie’s agent at a press event. no smile, no banter. just whispered, “if you so much as forward another email from lyon, you’re done.”

the agent hasn’t recovered. in fact, leah did everything in her power to switch chickie’s agent to leah’s agent… it worked.

michelle tried a soft approach with estrella. sent a bouquet of red and blue roses to the training ground with a card that read “imagine what you could do in france.”

estrella read it out loud and then used the bouquet as a free kick target. she said “cute flowers though” before launching it into the sky.

azulita didn’t even respond. she just looked at the scout and said “tell kang i said no.”

the scout blinked. azulita added, “and if she asks again, i’ll say it in person.”

she didn’t smile….

alexia has entered full mom-mode. she has a “no transfer talk” rule in the house and monitors their phones like an fbi agent. estrella once tried to prank her by pretending lyon made her an offer she was considering.

alexia didn’t speak to her for three days.

olga had to step in and bribe her with chocolate just to end the silent treatment.

every time transfer season hits, the groupchat gets renamed.

this winter it was called “MICHELLE KANG STAY AWAY”

last summer it was “not today, OL”

chickie thinks it’s hilarious and dramatic. she joked once about visiting lyon “just for the free snacks and ellie.”

leah looked her dead in the eye and said, “we don’t joke about that.” someone had to physically restrain leah from grabbing the phone.

michelle kang still sends offers. she believes one day, one day, she’ll get one of them.

meanwhile, barça and arsenal are in a secret alliance, quietly sharing scouting notes and subtly threatening mutual agents.

there’s a picture of alexia and leah shaking hands in a dim hallway. the caption reads: “united against lyon.”

michelle kang framed it. she hung it in her office as motivation. the war is ongoing.

[alchemistc]

too many toasters | bucktommy 1/1

Tommy contemplates asking Buck to move in with him.

read on ao3

He's reorganizing a cupboard to make room for the massive crockpot he'd found for a steal at an estate sale (thinking of the stew he wants to make for Evan the next time the Santa Ana's are chasing at their heels) when he notices.

Evan's protein powder, still balanced on top of the fridge because he's hesitant to claim the spot Tommy had cleared for him weeks ago.

Evan's spare immersion blender, brought over because he'd seen Tommy's old-school espresso maker and wanted to try his hand at foam art. Unsuccessfully, considering both of them were avoiding cows milk at the moment.

The spare set of Jeep keys looped next to the garage door, which Evan hadn't asked him to return after Tommy changed his oil, and Tommy had taken to touching on his way out of the house like a wife stroking a token of her husband far off in a foreign country fighting a war.

In the living room, the blanket over the couch is tucked and folded in a way Tommy can never replicate and doesn't try, because he likes the look of it, hanging neatly over the arm of the loveseat.

In the garden, a second set of gloves, too unwieldy for anything but pulling thick weeds.

In the bathroom, the mouthwash Evan swears by tucked next to Tommy's aftershave in the medicine cabinet.

In the bedroom, two hoodies Tommy has stolen and stretched out the shoulders of - a flavored lube in the bedside table drawer that they'd both laughed themselves silly about after one use and Tommy hadn't had the heart to toss in the trash the next morning - three department issue tee's folded neatly in his wardrobe that Evan outgrew years ago and has retrofitted for sleepwear - a book on the bloody history of the potato on top of the ancient PS4 setup Tommy still hasn't moved to the living room.

And more - Tommy can picture them all in his mind clear as day, and his heart lurches fondly, warningly, in his chest.

They’ve settled somewhere between normal and warp speed, now that the early relationship milestones have all been blown clean out of the water. Spare keys exchanged, controversial sexual fantasies shared, shovel talks mostly avoided by the sheer power of dry wit and matching bitchiness, I love you’s exchanged beneath a hazy crescent moon with half a bottle of Merlot drunk between them and the wisteria hanging off his pergola tickling their noses. Tommy counts the time Evan had let him throw the Jeep up on the lift so he could do a full diagnostic rundown, and Evan counts the time Tommy let him Facetime with his nephew in Reno. Milestones, common and uncommon, that Tommy had stumbled through with a hand clenched in Evan’s, absolutely prepared to match both speed and psychosis.

He’s met the parents, at more than just a passing glance with his face covered in the same soot that painted a radius around Evan’s mouth. He’s fully integrated into the 118’s groupchats - every iteration, though he’s fond of the Maddie-Karen-Athena combo that never fails to go for the throat where station fuckery is involved.

They’ve done the stupid zodiac quizzes Tommy’s sister had sent him, Evan curled into the circle of his arms and ignoring the barrage of texts he’d gotten from Maddie after he’d asked her what time of day he’d been born, grinning into the skin of Tommy’s pec at the readout and then promptly reminding Tommy that neither one of them believed in that shit, anyway.

They’ve talked about the future — for themselves, individually, for the possibility with a partner. For each other, if (when, Tommy’s heart whispers) they make a good run of things.

Evan’s lease is up in a month.

They haven’t talked about it.

He only knows because Eddie had mentioned it, about as subtle as a bullhorn, before Tommy had to stop him from gossiping about all the missteps Evan’s had with living with significant others in the past.

(”There are things about Evan I should hear from Evan first,” Tommy had told him, a little more stern than he’d been going for, enough to make Eddie visibly swallow down a barrage of thinly veiled disdain for Evan’s exes.)

Evan hasn’t brought it up, but Tommy knows a little , enough to piece together why he might be reluctant to broach the subject.

But as Tommy shifts the popcorn maker into a corner and removes the toaster he’s been tinkering with to no avail for six months now, crockpot sliding in without so much as a rustle from the other kitchenware stuffed in there, he thinks about the recent quiet that has swallowed him whole on nights when they just can’t quite make the revolving door of their disparate schedules work. He thinks of the times he’s pushed through the door to Evan’s loft, dead on his feet and world-weary after a patient arrived at the helipad DOA — of the sound of his voice falling into a tangent easing something inside Tommy even though his joints and his heart were both still aching.

He thinks of the way Evan looks, toothpaste on the corners of his lips because he’s had a thought halfway through brushing that couldn’t wait the extra forty-five seconds to be heard. He thinks of the way he hates washing his sheets between visits, now, because he doesn’t like losing the faint scent of Evan’s shampoo on the pillowcase.

Tommy closes the cabinet and makes a beeline for the jug of protein powder sitting on top of his fridge. Opens the cabinet door above it and shifts the jug back into the spot he’d assigned it weeks ago.

“Right,” he says, out loud, into the silence of the house.

The house sighs back at him.

---

Tommy is incredibly good at stifling the part of himself that enjoys rom-coms more than any other genre of fiction. He’s had years, decades, to push his soft sighs down below his diaphragm where they can’t hurt him.

Evan appreciates how little fanfare there’s been to most of their firsts. The lack of pressure, the ease with which they’ve approached things that they’d both previously considered watershed moments.

He considers texting Eddie to ask him if Evan has mentioned anything about re-upping his lease. Tosses that thought aside almost immediately, because he can already see the snarky response: There are things about Buck you should hear from Buck first.

He nearly reaches out to Bobby, before he remembers Bobby’s soft smile, a month and a half ago, while Evan carted a squealing Jee-Yun around Hen and Karen’s backyard, his gentle smile when Tommy had handed him a club soda and lime. (”You know, I never thought I’d see Buck settle in to something he doesn’t need a pep talk about,” Bobby had said, and something had unfurled in Tommy like a delicate flower reaching for the sun.) He could. It’s stupid to think Bobby wouldn’t be happy to talk to Tommy about something like this — but there’s a quiet voice in the back of his mind telling him this is something he needs to figure out for himself.

In the end, he keeps it simple. Just enough romance to maybe give Evan a heads up. Two nights after shoving Evan’s protein power where it belongs, Tommy tells him to dress slightly more than casual, picks him up in the Nova he’s been fixing up for three months, drives him up the PCH until the sun is low on the horizon. They watch the clouds spark up in pinks and purples, the sea reflecting colors back, and then Tommy gets them burgers and beers, and they walk them off in the twilight, shoes in their hands as they drift along the sun-warm sand.

Evan points out a cloud that he swears looks like the tree in the front yard of the house he grew up in, and Tommy seizes the moment, shifts the slim box from his back pocket while Evan is turned away. It’s nearly too dark, and they should probably have turned back for the car twenty minutes ago, but Evan has a step count he likes to meet when he won’t be at the gym for a few days, and they’ve got plans for a long weekend.

Tommy takes a deep breath when Evan turns back to look at him. His breath tumbles out in a rush when he catches sight of the box. “It’s not a ring,” Tommy tells him, cringing, hyperaware all of the sudden that Evan would absolutely know that just by the size and shape of the box.

Evan tilts back on his heels. There is a gentle grin on his face — the one he had five seconds before Tommy told him he loved him, the one he wore the first time Tommy threw one of his hoodies on in the chill of the loft and raised the cuffs surreptitiously to his nose, the one Tommy sees every time he presses a kiss to the pink mark over Evan’s brow.

Like he knows.

Like he’s been waiting on Tommy to catch up.

“You could have just said something yourself,” Tommy notes, with a hint of sass, as the picture comes into focus. “You didn’t have to send Eddie in to drop hints.”

Evan bites his lip. “Is that for me?” That cloud looks like the tree outside my childhood home, my ass.

Cheeky. God, Tommy loves him. “Could be.”

Evan crab-hands his way forward, and Tommy shifts his weight back just enough that he misses, in the growing dark. There’s a little helicopter on the keyring he’d bought, no key attached because Evan already has that, and it’s so sappy he’s bound to get half a dozen teasing texts about it the very first time someone at the 118 clocks it. Tommy doesn’t care.

Evan shifts his weight back, drops his hands to his sides. Tommy can see the moon reflecting off the water in the sparkle of his eyes. “Ask me,” Evan says, and Tommy leans in to kiss him, instead.

---

Tommy finds no less than six of his henley’s in the depths of Evan’s closet while they’re paring down the parts of his wardrobe he doesn’t wear anymore. Rather than comment on it, he folds them neatly and adds them to the keep pile.

The Buckley’s, always deciding to be overbearing at the worst of times, try to buy them a new mattress when they hear through the grapevine that Evan is moving.

Chimney spends a week giving Tommy shit about the keyring, and Tommy retaliates by buying Jee a toy copter that lights up, makes noise, and can manage to hover off the ground just at ankle height.

---

“We have four toasters,” Evan comments. They’ve spent an entire three days off unpacking, the both of them unsettled by the idea of leaving boxes stacked around the house, or in the spare room (Thank you, Eddie, for that shared trauma response).

He’s shirtless, rubbing a serum into his skin as Tommy settles in on his side of the bed, soft pink lips parted, favoring his good leg a little. Tommy’s already reaching for the massage oil by the time Evan has finished his thankfully simple skincare routine. Tommy needs to upgrade his stock medicine cabinet, if Evan is going to continue stockpiling a backup of both of their respective skin and hair products.

He waves the bottle of massage oil at Evan when he moves towards the bed, and something eases in Evan’s expression — the reminder that Tommy pays such close attention to him always enough to turn him a bit gooey, and Tommy has never used it for evil, but he could, if he wanted to. “Do you want to get comfortable to sleep, or is this going to make you horny again?”

Evan grins, bright and wide, a little mischievous as he tilts his head and cocks a hip. Down to his briefs, there’s not much left to Tommy’s imagination.

“Not my fault you’ve got magic hands.”

“I’m merely trying to perform a service for my partner who has been moving boxes up and down stairs for a week and a half.”

“I’ll perform a service on you,” Evan rebuttals, tongue between his teeth, and the muscles in Tommy’s groin tighten on instinct, more than anything else.

“Three out of ten for cheesiness. I’ll give you six overall for sticking the landing.”

“That’s at least an eight and you know it,” Evan argues, the side-sleeper knee pillow already out from under the bed and propping up his leg as he shifts to get comfortable.

Tommy doesn’t warm the dollop of oil in his hand before he slides his palm up Evan’s thigh, and Evan makes a noise halfway between a squeak and a snort. He shoots Tommy a bratty look that Tommy wants to devour, but —

He warms a much more generous pour of oil between his palms before he slowly searches out the deepest knots with gentle fingers, and Evan sighs, eyes tipping closed as Tommy works. His dick twitches in his briefs, but Tommy ignores it, for the time being.

They’ll have time for it later.

[archangeldyke-all]

Hey Angel :D I'm not dead 😋!!

For my ask; what about modern sev with a little shit that couldn't give a damn about consequences Like imagine after like idk they play soccer or some shit and before they get in the car they yell at a kid like "YOUR AIM WAS ASS AND YOUR MOM'S A BITCH!" and immediately just scurry over to sev like "hi ma :)"

micron!!! welcome back!! this idea is SOOOO perfect i love it

men and minors dni

little fucker wasn't always called little fucker.

when she was a baby, still too tiny to talk or walk, you and sevika referred to her with much more traditional nicknames.

'peanut' when she was still a newborn, tiny enough to fit in one of your arms.

'sweet girl' when she was being cute, cuddling against sevika's chest or wrapping her entire hand around your pointer finger.

'baby' most commonly-- usually with an adjective in front. 'stinky baby' when she's got a full diaper, 'sleepy baby' when she's yawning and cranky, 'beautiful baby' when you're rocking her to sleep, humming lullabies to her.

but as she grew and her personality developed, 'little fucker' quickly became the most frequently used nickname for your baby.

she's a mischievous, impulsive, goofball.

at two years old, she watches sevika flip someone off in heavy traffic, and despite that her tiny hands can't figure out a simple peace sign, she manages to figure out the middle finger.

she shoots it at anyone and everyone. the mailman, the old man standing behind the three of you in line at the grocery store, the neighbor's dog-- nobody's safe from little fucker's middle finger. luckily, she's cute enough for people to just laugh when she does it.

when she figures out what money is, and that money can buy candy, your little girl starts stealing.

she'll harass anyone who enters your home. 'gimmie a dollar,' or 'show me your wallet,' only to steal the cash and run to her room, hiding it in a shoebox under her bed.

again-- people think it's cute, and they never bother telling you or sevika that your daughter's just robbed them (especially since she only robs them a dollar at a time.) you find out what's been happening when you're cleaning her room and find around a hundred crumbled up one dollar bills under her bed. sevika thinks it's the funniest thing she's ever seen.

when she's old enough to start going to pre-school, you and sevika get texts from her teachers on a daily basis. she never goes far enough to get in any real trouble-- but she's just so fucking funny all her teachers need to tell another adult about how goofy your baby is. you, sevika, and the three women who run the day-care are all in a groupchat titled 'little fucker chronicles.'

a lot of it's just pictures of her covered in mud or dirt or paint.

some of it's stories about her handing out her own form of justice to kids who don't share toys-- putting worms in their hair or ignoring them in a round of hide and seek, making them stay cramped and hidden for an hour.

and of course, all the crazy shit she says to other kids sent back to you and sevika: 'my mommy could beat your dad up. he looks wimpy.' or, 'do you know what b-i-t-c-h spells? no? well, it's something that you are.' and, your personal favorite, 'no i don't have any brothers or sisters, i'm already a handful.'

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

[kozmicmizuu]

at this point expect random lil senecios and headcanons just popping up 😔🫶

also is it obvious i have a favorite trio????

(a lil uzuigiyuu, rengiyuu, uzuren, actually just put three together uzurengiyuu)

————————————————————————

Kyojuro: Tengen doesn’t deserve you.

Kyojuro: If they don't treat you right by now, you're gone.

Giyuu: I'm gone.

Kyojuro: Now go chop their dick off!

Kyojuro: sapnu puaS.

Tengen : What??

Giyuu: What language is that.

Kyojuro: Turn your phone 180 degrees.

*Kyojuro was removed from the groupchat*

Giyuu: Kyojuro, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right?

Kyojuro, naked in Giyuu's bed: No, I absolutely do not.

Giyuu, already taking off their clothes: ... Me neither.

Tengen : There are 20 letters in the alphabet, right?

Giyuu: Nope, there's 26.

Tengen : Ah, I must have forgotten U, R, A, Q, T.

Giyuu: Aww, that's cute, but you're still missing one.

Tengen : You'll get the D later ;).

Giyuu: No.

Giyuu: I’m the sexiest bitch in this therapy waiting room.

Kyojuro: Don’t preach to me about romance, Giyuu. I had a three-way in a hot-air balloon.

Giyuu: I know, i was there and so was Tengen.

Kyojuro: Oh yeah.

Kyojuro: What are you in the mood for?

Giyuu: World domination.

Kyojuro: That's a bit ambitious.

Giyuu: You are my world.

Kyojuro: Aww...

Giyuu:

Kyojuro:

Giyuu:

Kyojuro: OH.

Giyuu: My bad…

Giyuu: We need a diversion. I say Kyojuro gets naked.

Tengen : No.

Giyuu: I could get naked.

The squad: NO!!!

Tengen: I mean… if you really want to-

Kyojuro: NO DONT THATS ONLY FOR US TO SEE

Giyuu: WHAT

Kyojuro: There. How do I look?

Giyuu: Like a cheap French harlot.

Kyojuro: French?!

Tengen: If we were in prison you guys would be like my bitches.

Kyojuro: Of course we would, right Giyuu?

Giyuu: Yeah, i mean we already kinda are.

Kyojuro: What’s your body count?

Giyuu: Do you mean sex or murder?

Kyojuro: I hate the fact that i have to specify which one im taking about.

Kyojuro: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Giyuu: What’s up your ass this morning??

Tengen : *walks in* ...Hey.

Giyuu: Hmm… nevermind.

Kyojuro: WAIT NO

Giyuu: *sucking on a popsicle*

Kyojuro: Pfft, you practicing for when Tengen gets here?

Giyuu: *takes a huge ass bite out of the popsicle*

Kyojuro: *Concern*

Giyuu: don’t worry he’s into that.

Kyojuro: Oh ok- WAIT WHAT

Giyuu: look Tengen , I'm not slut shaming you but...

Giyuu: Actually yeah, I'm TOTALLY slut shaming you.

Tengen: SHUT THE FUCK UP

Giyuu: What did Tengen do this time?

Kyojuro: More like WHO did Tengen do this time?

Giyuu: *Nodding in agreement*

Tengen : I like your top, Kyojuro!

Giyuu: I have a name, you know.

Kyojuro: *sighs* Why. Why are you like this.

Giyuu: I thought is was funny ngl.

Tengen : Sorry, I'm late to the party. I've been doing things.

Kyojuro, entering in an unbuttoned shirt: I got caught up doing things too.

Giyuu: Wow, Tengen was late too! What a coincidence!

Giyuu: I committed all 7 deadly sins in 30 minutes.

Tengen : Wow, I've gotta hear this.

Giyuu: I was angry and envious of my neighbor so I lazily seduced his wife and ate all his groceries and didn't share.

Tengen : You forgot pride.

Giyuu: No, I'm pretty proud of this.

Giyuu: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed.

Tengen :

Tengen : I'm gonna tell them.

Kyojuro: Don't you dare.

Tengen : Who do we know that has handcuffs?

Giyuu: Well Kyojuro and I-

Kyojuro: *elbows Giyuu*

Giyuu: ...wouldn't know.

Tengen: Damn i didn’t think you’d be kinky Kyo!

Kyojuro: Why single me out!?

Tengen: Quiet people are always kinky.

Giyuu: Nuh uh

Kyojuro: Bonjour, Giyuu. Voulez–vous coucher avec moi?

Giyuu: No, I don't want to sleep with you.

Kyojuro: Is that what that means? Oh, man, I had a really gross tennis instructor.

Giyuu: Know why I called you in here?

Tengen : Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.

Giyuu: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

Tengen , with a headache: Advil me up, daddy.

Giyuu: I will short out the language centre of your brain if you say anything like that ever again.

Kyojuro, bursting into the room: You two are having sex!

Tengen , not looking up from their book: Really? Giyuu, why didn’t you tell me? I would have put my book down.

Giyuu: I thought we were having a sleepover..

Kyojuro, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe?

Giyuu: Yeah, sure.

*A few minutes later*

Giyuu: Here you go.

Kyojuro:

Giyuu:

Tengen : Why am I here?

Giyuu: I’m so funny.

*At a speed dating event*

Tengen : Oh wow, people are really shallow.

Giyuu: Consider it a background check. For example: Do you have a death certificate?

Tengen : *Checks their pulse* Sorry, not yet.

Giyuu: Good, I'm not fucking a ghost again.

Tengen: Again?

Giyuu: Being a medium is an experience.

Giyuu: Do you think sex without love is a sin?

Tengen : If it is, I’ll see you in hell.

Kyojuro: Why are you two like this?

Tengen : Priest kink is definitely a thing and I am afflicted by it.

Giyuu: Go to church.

Giyuu: WAIT—

Giyuu: Oh look who got laid last night.

Kyojuro: That’s right chumps, missionary accomplished!

Tengen : Heh, Giyuu sneezes like a girl.

Giyuu: How about I pound you like boy?

Giyuu: That didn’t come out right.

————————————————————————

Sigh i’m not well, but i love them sm. They are severely out of character but that makes funny. that’s there dynamic now fr fr. Don’t worry they can wholesome.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Who in the Gotei 13 abuses emojis and how

The Groupchat Crimes of the Gotei-13:

Yamamoto: responds everything with an inscrutable "😎 👍". Announcing your engagement? 😎 👍 Telling him there is a scheduling conflict? 😎 👍 The seireitei is being invaded? 😎 👍 Tonkatasu Tuesday at 6:30 tonight? 😎 👍

Sasakibe: Endlessly persnickety about grammar. Despite having the fact that grammar is fluid and changes with context and what many of the new conventions mean explained to him, a total lack of punctuation to create an informal tone will make him literally foam at the mouth like a rabid boar.

Soi Fon: refuses to relegate fun facts about hornets to the #bugs channel, including unspoilered images of what assorted stings will do to human flesh.

Yoruichi: nudes in the SFW channels

Rose: 🌹❤️🌹 brackets his messages with emoji chains like quotation marks 🌹❤️🌹

Kira: vent posting/generally being a miserable little shit in the general channel

Retsu: consistently forgets to spoiler medical gore, keeps sharing medical "Fun" facts that give people nightmares.

Isane: "Hey guys, I need some advice on how to deal with *insane situation literally nobody that ever experienced before*"

Hanataro: unironically posting scorpions and venomous snakes to the cute animals channel

Shinji: ti xif ton lliw/tonnac dna segassem sih lla desrever wohemoS

Momo: crying for real about how cute the animals in the cute animals chat are

Hiyori: destroying things in rage about how cute the animals in the cute animals chat are.

Byakuya: Signs all his messages, as this is is official Gotei-13 correspondence. -from the desk of Captain Kuchiki Byakuya

Renji: no caps no punctuation no worries

Komamura: spent three *months* pretending to be friends with a pair of rural veterinarians and getting people emotionally involved in the saga of them trying to cure a mystery chicken affliction before finally ending his shaggy dog story with an ATROCIOUS pun.

Iba: unappealing thirst traps.

Shunsui: keeps falling for and linking obviously false clickbait articles.

Nanao: digging up literally decades-old drama

Tousen: setting his text color to match the background color to fuck with people.

Shuuhei: normal messages sent from bizarre locations "-sent from the secret downstairs microwave" "-sent from the captain general's iPhone" "-sent from Massachusetts"

Matsumoto: 💕 Putting ❤️ emoji 💋 between ❤️ every 😘 word ❤️ for 💋 the ❤️ aesthetic 💕

Hitsugaya: 2AM post @ing everyone of a single inscrutable emoji such as "🦆". Claims to have no memory of making this

Kenpachi: ALL CAPS LOCK ALL THE TIME NO PUNCTUATION ALSO FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE THE YELLING BUTTON LOUDER

Ikkaku: figured out how to use image-editing software specifically to make bespoke image macros at astonishing speed so he always has a meme on hand, including the infamous Zaraki Caused Another Bisexual Awakening Counter aka "GOT ANOTHER ONE LADS!!" meme.

Yumichika: ✨ ��� ✨ Worst 💙 possible 🪩 combination 💙 of 🪩 Rose 💙 and 🪩 Matsumoto 💙 quirks ✨🦚✨

Yachiru: Pink Text

Mayuri: immediately silenced all notifications from the Groupchat, forgot it exists

Nemu: Tracks Groupchat statistics and presentation them quarterly like a thesis defense and/or stockholders meeting.

Urahara: keeps finding obviously false clickbait articles to send to Shunsui

Ukitake: you can directly track how much Percocet he's on by how colorful, emoji 🤣 filled and ✨ WhImSiClE 🐟 🐟 hIs 💻 TeXtInG 💻 sTyLe 🐟 🐟 GeTS ✨

Rukia: signs her texts like Byakuya, but "-sent from Lieutenant Rukia 🐰 Kuchiki "

Harmless, until somehow her medical records appear under "Rukia Usagi Kuchiki" like she has a middle name.

[lionb00bfan]

OC Introductions

Jaiime Lunares 

Lmao yall this is basically my lore so its also a get-to-know-me (except the height)

Goal: Neurosurgeon 

Species: Katanga Lion

20, Capricorn, 6’0 (185 cm)

Hormonal imbalance – frequent haircuts to avoid overgrowth 

Introvert who can switch up depending on surroundings 

Grew up lower-middle class, eldest daughter of an immigrant family, second oldest of four siblings.

Being a lioness means she’s always going to be second best to the “King of Beasts.” Although her parents deny it, she was raised to marry, placing all their hopes on her brother, who couldn’t live up to their unrealistic expectations. Although her brother and her never fought over the title, both quietly share the burden of never feeling “enough” in their parents’ eyes. One will never reach the high standards, and the other never stood a chance in the first place. Knows that if a male lion had achieved half the things she has, he’d be praised and celebrated three times as hard.

Attended a well-known high school in the city; earned an almost full ride to college. First in her family to attend university and now aiming for grad school. 

Got spiritual after barely surviving general chemistry first semester. Asked the universe for a sign (it sent her Jason and Elijah). Now reads tarot in her free time and hoards crystals and herbs.

Pretty shy. Struggles making friends because of her height, mane bullying, and being ignored when other (male) lions are around.

Freaky references go crazy – “If the professor passes me, he’s gon’ get the soul sucked out his tip ferocious style” was her first comfortable group chat comment after 4 months of being normal.Now the groupchat, library, and labs are full of Dreamybull references. TAs eavesdrop often.

Only one in the group who knows how to swim, refused to believe that “felines don’t like water” nonsense. Swimming was the only thing she liked as a kid (yes she stank up the locker room LMAO)

Loves to shower

Chlorine led to problems with her mane

Elijah P. 

Goal: Pediatrician 

Species: Congo Lion

Extroverted

21, Virgo, 6’2 (191 cm)

Learned to manage manes at a young age because their adoptive dad didn’t know how. He liked playing with his own hair, so he didn’t mind teaching his dad and twin. The three of them went through lots of trial and error before figuring it out.

Adopted at 3 years old, has no memory of birth parents and doesn’t care to. Views his adoptive dad as blood and is endlessly grateful for being raised without the pressures typical for lion kids.

Had trouble making friends with other lions due to their obsession with hierarchy and competition.

Grew up upper-middle class, and is the older twin by 18 minutes. 

Loves gaming sometimes, but his real passion is hair. Will happily experiment on anyone’s mane/fur if they let him. Works part-time at a barbershop, but does house calls, especially for kids, animals with high-maintenance hair, or folks who can’t afford it. He always tries to help.

Twink death – Had a brief thing with one of the few lion friends he made. It ended when the guy revealed he was keeping Elijah secret because he “wasn’t successful or good enough” to be seen with. It was one of the few times he felt that pressure. The fallout and rumor mill were so bad Elijah switched schools and spent a year getting over the betrayal of what he thought was a good partner and bullying from others. 

Does the Sonic emote 24/7 (the freaky rubbing hands one). Has shoved his hand in Jason’s mouth multiple times mid-haircut.

That one guy who asks all the questions during office hours (THANK YOU TO ALL YOU WHO DO THAT TOO). Can’t keep track of his notes, so he’s always dick-riding Jason or Jaiime’s note-taking skills so they let him see them. 

Jason P.  

Goal: Cardiologist

Species: Congo Lion

Extroverted 

21, Virgo, 6’2 (190 cm)

Again, adopted at three years old, also no memories of their biological parents, but he thinks about them more often and carries more complicated feelings. He suspects they were abandoned and hasn’t fully forgiven them. 

Unlike Elijah, he got caught up in the whole “King of Beasts” narrative at school. He channeled it through fashion snd experimented a lot. He wanted to stand out, be better at something than the others or that made him recognizable. Led him to experiment with alternative styles, street style, a bunch of different ones. He found his own style, he’s always well dressed.

Loved his childhood. If he’s not at school or with friends, he’s spending quality time with his dad. Doesn’t need to work, so he uses his free time to do errands or relax with him.

Tries to make friends with anyone kind. Has a solid sense of intuition thanks to everything he’s seen.

Used to mega sag his pants. Like underwear fully out, but never crack. Dad hated it.

John Pork is his nickname –  It got spammed so hard in the groupchat that, during one sleep-deprived exam (after downing 7 Monsters), he accidentally wrote it as his real name on the test. Didn’t realize until papers got passed back. He’s never recovered.

Robert Jr. P. (Haven’t drawn him yet)

Species: British Shorthair 

45, Taurus, 4’2 (127 cm)

Oldest of 3 siblings

Black cat

No nonsense. Very strict when it comes to the few rules he has.

Grew up near the black market and worked hard to keep kids away from it. Always feared they’d get sucked into gangs like the Shishigumi. Especially after seeing which lions they targeted. Made it his life’s goal to raise kids who wouldn’t be burdened by that “king of beasts” legacy.

Inherited wealth from his absent father, which let him adopt the twins and afford med school for them. Moved far from the black market after adoption.

Cried in his room the day he learned the twins were friends with someone in the Shishigumi. Terrified something would happen to all four of them. Eventually came to terms with it after eavesdropping on their convos with Agata.

Always yelling. Claims, “you kids will handle the blood pressure spikes you give me.”

Unintentionally adopted Jaiime as his third child. 

Wants grandkids bad. Thought Jaiime was a secret girlfriend at first, but when he saw how sibling-like they acted, he was a little heartbroken.

Silly Convos:

This is after their dad sat them down and explained, carefully, what the Shishigumi was and that Agata, their friend, is part of it. They all went to their study room together, sitting in silences.

Three lions. One shared silence.

Jaiime broke it. “Sooo… do we even know what these guys look like? Like, just to avoid them?

Jason shrugged, already pulling out his phone. “We only know Agata, not the rest. There’s probably pictures online.”

All three leaned in, scrolling through mugshots, old news articles, and a few blurry forum posts.

Jason and Elijah gradually frowned the more they saw. Not because of the intimidating, scarred, muscled lions. But because they already knew what was coming. 

Jason side-eyed Jaiime. “Don’t.”

Elijah followed. “Seriously, don’t.”

Jaiime looked up, eyes glinting. “Okay, but—hear me out—”

“NO.” Jason and Elijah snapped in perfect unison

“Bu—” 

“NO” Elijah said louder, “THEYRE LIKE 40, AGATA IS ALMOST 30”

Jaiime raised her hands in defense. “Just because the wrapper’s a little wrinkled doesn’t mean the candy ain’t any less sweeter, PLEASE HEAR ME OUT—”

“NOOOO—DAAAD!” Jason groaned, as if their father might burst through the door at any second

“OKAY, OKAY,I’LL STOP!” Jaiime laughed, practically choking.

[irithnova]

Sakha headcanon post - courtesy of my conversations with @topipaku !! Thank you 🙏

Huge huge film bro he loves discussing films and makes his own

I headcanon that he is very much like a lawyer when it comes to business stuff but this somewhat "strong headed/argumentative" mentality also extends to how he critiques certain films or goes about explaining them

His favorite type of film is comedy/horror and a lot of his own projects involves someone dying in some shape or form

You can blame his love of everything morbid on Even, Evenk and Yukaghir, who often (when he was younger) tell him some pretty spooky stories (such as the Even folk tale of a mother turning into a cuckoo because her children would not give her a helping hand)

In all honesty they probably told him those stories to try and scare him into behaving - well now he's just a huge horror fan

Sakha has told many of these same spooky stories to Dolgan when she was younger

Speaking of Dolgan - whilst she's grateful for the hand Sakha had in raising her, she wants her own identity outside of him. Often Dolgan people are just labelled as being Sakha

Really good friends with Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan because they are #Turkic but also because they like sharing their films/writing together - they screen each other's films in cinemas and in Kazakhstan, operas based on the Sakha "Olonkho" myth are being held.

Writers from Kazakhstan and Sakha signed a co operation agreement, and in Kyrgyzstan there is a monument dedicated to the Sakha politician and writer Maxim Kirovich

However - despite their love of sharing each other's writing, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan are quite surprised at how often Sakha's stories end in death !

Kazakhstan often jokes to Sakha that he should become independent

I definitely think these three share a groupchat together

He has an inside joke with Buryatia about the both of them being Japanese or secretly being Japanese. This is because both Sakha and Buryat intelligentsia were accused of being spies for the Japanese Empire (by Russia) at the time

Needless to say, Japan is definitely shooting them questionable looks when he overhears them make that joke

I think these days he has a bit of friendly competition with Buryatia over who is the most popular/more relevant group in Siberia

Really likes rap music !!

His relationship with Mongolia is very funny - in Sakha there is something of a myth that the most powerful faction of Genghis Khan's army was comprised of Sakha soldiers.

In reality, Sakha was most likely a child during this time and the Sakha people were most definitely not a part of the Mongol army

I think Sakha and Mongolia are friendly but Sakha has a little bit of a fascination with Mongolia. There are Sakha artists such as Afanasy Osipov who paints scenes of Mongols, and there is a film called "The secret of Genghis Khan", and apparently the Republic of Sakha was the initiator of the filming process ?

Very big into wrestling - in fact he enjoys challenging Mongolia even if Mongolia doesn't really reciprocate. He doesn't care that Mongolia is technically an elder to him, he'll do it regardless !

He is good friends with Chechnya because of their shared love of wrestling

Good relationship with both North and South Korea, though these days he's closer to South Korea

A lot of North Koreans were sent to Sakha under the USSR and mined gold , with some staying to teach farming to the Sakha

There is a Sakha-Korean school in Sakha and there are people in Sakha who refer to themselves as being "Sakha-Koreans" - presumably from the North Koreans who were sent to Sakha

South Korea indulges Sakha on his love for films. There was an exhibition of Sakha films that were held in South Korea, and South Korea was the first to make an article about Sakha films

For a while, there were even direct flights from Yakutsk to a city in South Korea !

Sad that his films aren't really taken seriously on a more global scale :(

I'd say he's also good friends with Tuva as similar to Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan - both are Turkic and Sakha likes talking to people he relates to, especially as Siberia doesn't really have many Turkic groups

[m0onlitmercy]

"in a house full of girls."

percy being one of four brothers in a house full of sisters... send tweet

cw. original characters galore that will be explained in other posts!, allusions to child abuse, gabe ugliano mentioned a few times sorry :/, author's own personal headcanons thank you, absurd number of twins and triplets because i couldn't decide lol, probably doesn't make much sense but fuck it we ball

youngestbrother!percy who's the youngest triplet and the youngest boy in his family, and is therefore not only babied by his mother, but his sisters as well. he complains about his about his sisters, dany and maddy, not getting babied the same way he does, and whines to his brothers that their sisters coddle him too much, only to get teased about his cute little cheeks that haven't lost their baby fat just yet. he's left to fend for himself when eldest sisters cassandra and adrian coo and pinch those same cheeks and only draws the line at such affection when his brothers start in on him, too— basically fighting his way out from under them.

youngestbrother!percy who argues endlessly with his triplet sisters about who was born first out of the three. he's adamant that it's him, swears up and down that the first thing he saw was the doctor holding his sisters in their arms, and heartily claims his authority over the girls as the first triplet of the batch. they go to sally, hoping for resolution to this ongoing debate, and he's borderline heartbroken when her hand is forced, and she has to admit that he was actually the last triplet to be born. he doesn't stop pouting until sally promises him a blue breakfast and homemade tres leches the next morning.

youngestbrother!percy who shares the same dark curls and sea-colored eyes with his brothers and sisters. his, princess and eska's are a shimmering sea-green that they had gotten from their father, while cass, adrian, dany, mikey, andie, dom and maddy all have varying shades of blue, like their mother. it's hard not to see the resemblance when they all stand side by side, though percy swears that he sees more of his mother in his sisters while seeing an empty vision of his father in his own reflection.

youngestbrother!percy whose hair is almost perpetually frizzy, because all his sisters love to stick their hands in it: ruffles, twists, swoops and noogies alike, one of his sisters' hands is always attached to his head. and he claims to hate it, groans every time he feels fingers weaving through his scalp for the umpth time, but his siblings know different from the way his body almost instantly relaxes, a soft, quiet sigh leaving him as the familiar fingers work through the naps and tangles. even all these years later, at eighteen with a load of trauma suited for someone centuries older than him with the worst luck, he swears that he's no longer as affected by it, but five minutes into their weekly movie night, all it takes is for dominique to twirl her hands in his hair and he's passed out, drooling in her lap, underneath the blue shark-themed blanket, snoring to his heart's content. (the girls definitely took pictures, and percy tried to swear them to secrecy. the pictures were sent in the groupchat within the day.)

youngestbrother!percy who thinks the absolute highest of his sisters, no matter how badly they embarrass him sometimes. he always seems to glow a little brighter, stand a little taller, when someone mentions that he's their little brother, especially when it gets him brownie points on the playground. he tries to follow their lead, emulating their confidence and their mannerisms, and he thinks he's extremely subtle when he does. it's adorable, really.

youngestbrother!percy who never fails to go to his sisters for anything. it's kind of jarring how open he is with them, but it's actually really sweet. when he needs advice? he's knocking on his sister's doors or pressing their name on his phone. depending on the advice he needs: if it's girls and he doesn't want to get made fun of, mikey. if he does want to get made fun of, literally everyone else, but especially cass, andie and adrian. if he just wants to talk? they'll put together an entire groupchat so he doesn't have to choose. and in return, percy thrives when they let him sit in on girl-talk and hang out during girls' night. and yes, they put him through skincare— face masks, clay masks, serums, the whole she-bang, and he loves it!

youngestbrother!percy who claims to dislike being affectionate with his sisters because they tease him too much, but is always caught climbing into one of their bunks after another weird dream that he can't fully remember. he's thankful when none of them say anything when he inevitably curls up next to them in the middle of the night; he passes out almost instantly when princess runs her fingers through his shaggy hair, scratching at his scalp. he wordlessly wraps his arms around her, snuggling into her shoulder. the next morning, he unfortunately has to hear his brothers snicker across the table when princess offhandedly mentions that she nearly fell out of her bunk because percy kept hogging the bed.

youngestbrother!percy who never feels crazy around his siblings. he knows there's something different about him, about all of them, because who else can say that they were once stalked by a man in a trench coat with only one eye in third grade. or the time he, his sisters and their entire class took an unplanned swim at the aquarium when the shark tank had inexplicably collapsed. or when the triplets were in pre-school, they had been found napping happily with the corpse of a snake three times their size. yeah, you get the point.

youngestbrother!percy who fights with all his siblings about who gets first plate for dinner ("youngests eat first!" is his favorite phrase, unfortunately). sally made arroz con gandules and the siblings swear that whoever gets the last plate always has less. afterwards, they fight with each other about whose turn it is to wash the dishes and percy is the first to say that it's certainly not his turn 'cause he did them last time!

youngestbrother!percy who takes the fall for his sisters all the time— sometimes unwittingly, sometimes on purpose. he just hates when smelly gabe has the nerve to yell at any one of his siblings; hates that he can only watch as cass, adrian, andromeda, dominique and eska are berated about "carrying their weight around here". sometimes he can't help but say something, even when his siblings tell him to shut his mouth— that they can handle it themselves, but he'll be damned if gabe tells one of them that they "can't afford" to get essential hair products, all so he can have a bigger budget to spend on beer and poker. he may take a beating for it, but it's worth it if continuing to help his sisters with their hair— one of the only times he really gets to be with them anymore— remains a part of their routine.

youngestbrother!percy who, unsurprisingly, is extremely protective of his sisters, full stop. he constantly gets into fights with his brothers all because someone decided to make fun of andie's haircut or dany's hair. fully got suspended for attacking a younger boy because he said something about maddy's bangs— and immediately ran to collect his brothers and jumped some stupid boys a few years older than at the park when they pushed adrian and eska off the swings. it doesn't matter how big, how old and how miniscule it is— percy and his brothers are immediately at their sisters' defense, and the same can be said for the other way around.

youngestbrother!percy who, despite being protective, is surprisingly chill about his sisters' love lives. he trusts that they have good judgement, especially after their own personal experiences, and genuinely makes an effort to get to know his sisters' partners. sometimes, they don't work out, and that's okay, but if he even hears a single tremor in any of their voices, he's about ready to hunt someone down for hurting them.

youngestbrother!percy who struggles even worse at boarding school when they start separating the boys and the girls. he simply feels the most comfortable sharing a dorm room with girls because he shares a room with dany and maddy, and doesn't know anything different. he gets his stuff constantly mixed up with theirs because they don't have their own dressers, but percy doesn't mind wearing a shirt with a shimmering unicorn on it because who is going to tell him what he can and cannot wear besides his mother.

youngestbrother!percy who gets into the standard "girls vs. boys" fights with his siblings but not in the way one would think. he has silly competitions with his brothers about who can do the girls' hair the best, who can find the girliest shirt they own, and who can steal the most hair ties, clips and barrettes for their own hair; and they are swiftly jumped by the girls when they find that their hair tie supply has gone down by at least 50% since they last saw it.

youngestbrother!percy who adores going to their cabin in montauk because that's when he and his siblings can really let their feelings loose with each other without having to fear a certain someone's temper. he loves when they get to be as rowdy to their heart's content because the living room at the apartment was off limits and any "childish" noise after 9pm only worsened gabe's temper. it's a bit morbid, but he likes to pretend that they live there permanently, with the occasional thought of their father returning home from being "lost at sea", finally reuniting their family.

youngestbrother!percy who is obligated to side with his brothers when one (or all) of them gets into with the girls, as one of four boys in a house full of women. he pouts when sally playfully sides with the girls, and grumbles that he should've sided with the girls when they make the boys collect seashells for them on the beach.

youngestbrother!percy who knows how to do hair surprisingly well and essentially becomes his sisters' personal stylist. who tries to remember the twists and braids that his mother puts in the girl's' hair as his tiny, chubby fingers work in their curls. who refuses to let anyone else touch their hair after andie's incident... and besides, nobody else but his mother could make his sisters' hair look better, and with him there, there was no need for them to find anyone else.

youngestbrother!percy who's closest to neither his brothers nor his sisters and refuses to claim that he's closer to any one of them. because after all they'd been through together— the nightmares, the fights, the abuse, the expulsions, and the boarding schools— he couldn't choose just one of his siblings.

youngestbrother!percy who had the typical YCS* phase where he kind of wanted his parents to get back together, but in a really skewered way. because, on one hand, the stories sally regaled him and his siblings with about their father made it clear that despite whatever it was that kept them apart, their father loved her with every breath in his body. but, on the other hand... he left. "lost at sea" or whatever it was that his mother insisted, and instead, sally had to settle for... the likes of gabe ugliano. an ugly rage festered at his father, mixed with confusion, a strange case of idealization, and maybe even the desire to have a father. all he could think about was what could've been: why couldn't his father do more for sally? (even though she herself made it clear that she was more than a little stubborn) why couldn't it just be her, him, his siblings and their dad, like all the other families they had grown up seeing. and then he discovered he and his siblings were demigods— sons and daughters of the god of the sea, poseidon, and suddenly things were finally being put into perspective for him.

youngestbrother!percy who doesn't not like paul, but can't help but a bit awkward with paul for a multitude of reasons: he's not fully healed from his experience with gabe, and he's not too fond of men in general anymore, frankly, and he's still kind of going through that YCS phase. but he trusts his mother to make her own choices, especially now that he knows why she put up with the thing for so long— as long as his mother is happy and being treated as a woman like sally jackson deserves, he's cool.

youngestbrother!percy who becomes one of paul's groomsmen on his and sally's wedding day, alongside his brothers. he fights with said brothers about who gets to be his best man, but paul only insists that if all of them can't be his best men, then there's no need for a best man, and the boys reluctantly agree (but percy secretly thinks he's the best man). during the ceremony, percy is the one to give sally away, and even though he tries to hold it in, he can't help the tear that escapes. even when the tears start flowing like waterfalls and his brothers are snickering at his sides, he doesn't miss the way they're all trying to hide their sniffles.

youngestbrother!percy who is ecstatic when estelle is born, because now he finally has someone to baby just like his siblings! he fights with all of them when they claim he hogs the baby, but he can't help if he's little estelle favorite! he's just a velcro-teenager! it's not his fault that his baby sister is excruciatingly adorable, he simply cannot say no to her. (and yes, this does mean estelle gets away with tons of things; no, he was not afforded this luxury himself.)

*YCS — youngest child syndrome LMFAO

is this too long? possibly! :D sorry gang the brainrot took over, and yes, i am projecting because i, too, am a youngest child!

[geese-ball]

I still don't know who you are, I only know that I'm still lonely chap 3

ch.2

Donnie and April have a chat

It had been a few days since Donnie's 'bad night' as they called it and Missie was almost ready to be picked up. Maybe she would make them feel less lonely. Unlikely considering they already lived with three very supportive and loving siblings, and that didn't seem to help.

Maybe they'd talk to April about it.

There was less pressure opening up to her since they didnt live together (even though they spent most of their free time together anyways) so it didn't feel like they'd have to confront it again of they didn't want to.

They were snapped out of their thoughts by a reminder sounding on their wrist brace. They were supposed to pick April up from an after school event tonight. Convenient.

They checked the time, unsurprised to find that it was almost time to leave. Time had been wrong since The Technodrome. Or more likely, she had changed something in them to perceive the flow of time differently. But thinking about that made them want to scream and throw up and cry. So they much preferred the first option.

Streching and shaking that thought out, they left their lab to get changed, making sure anything that needed to be turned off was turned off.

They decided on their comfort hoodie and comfy jogging bottoms over their galaxy compression leggings. Before they leftt, they switched rheir contacts out for their glasses. They were just picking April up and maybw grabbing a drink, so unlikely to be doing any sort of acrobatics where they could lose them.

They exited the lair through the garage and sent a quick text to the groupchat so everyone knew where they were. They turned on their favourite playlist as they bagan the journey there.

~~~

"April!!", they exclaimed, removing one hand from their walker and turning to the side to hug their sister.

Donnie loved being with April. She never acted as if they were fragile or broken. She wss never afraid to play fight or shove them (she was more gentle with it now but that was understandible considering that they would 100% fall over), and she never tried to stop them from doing things under the guise of protection. So they, in turn, felt comfortable being around her, because the mood isnt going to change on a whim when she decides they cant do something anymore. They can decide their own limits.

So they listened while she told them all aboit all the drama and funny anecdotes from her day, and in turn shared their own (like how Leo manages to fall down the stairs and make the most cartoon 'bonk' noise they'd ever heard).

And before they knew it, they were back at April's flat.

They agreed to sit in the living room with Mayhem whilst April got changed.

"Hello little man." they said, cupping Mayhem's little face in their hands and rubbjng the top of his head with their thumbs. In response, Mayhem slow blinked and rested his head more into their palms. "What a sweetie pie, I hope you get along with Missy, it'd be nice for you to have another animal friend, wouldn't it?".

They planted a kiss onto the top of his head just as April walked in and Mayhem wriggled free of their grasp to jump into her arms.

"He HATE me. sad face emoji." They pouted.

"He doesnt, hate you, Dee," she moved Mayhem to press his 'lips' against the side of Donnke's head, "See? he loves you!" Donnie snorted in response, reaching up to scratch behind Mayhem's ear as April sat next to them.

"So, when does Drax reckon you'll be able to pick up Missy?"

"Some time this week, he said." they paused, "I'm not really sure about it T.B.H., like obviously she's gonna be a massive help and it'll make me feel better but also. Change. Y'know?"

"yeah, but we're all here for you and we'll help you adjust, yeah?"

"yeah." They gently knocked their heads together.

They argued over what film to watch for a while after that (as kf they weren't just going to watch the Atomic Lass one for the 4734736th time).

~~~~

When Donnie got back to the lair, they were surprised to see one Barron Draxum standing in the living room.

"Ah. Donatello."

"... Yes?"

"I must inform you that your, uh, service dog, will be ready for pick up tomorrow afternoon."

[constelationprize]

can you tell us about any wips that are kevjean or kerejean?

I loved the snippets for the gothic horror au and I’d love more of your writing about them

I do have a kevjean WIP there's very near and dear to my heart that I haven't talked much about before. Or maybe I have I honestly don't remember and it's two am and I should be looking at trees so bear with me, okay?

quiet out loud is my Raven exposé kevjean fic. I started writing it before TSC was even announced so I had a very specific vision for kevjean's future I still intend to stick to, but there is a planned plot point I suspect the second book will touch on, so I'm waiting to see how that turns out so I can spin it in this AU.

But anyway it's about reuniting with your ex crush/best friend/trauma bonded cat on the absolutely worst circumstances possible. It's also, not exactly my two cents because I'm not that self important, but a exploration of scandals involving famous people (especially when it's around traumatic subjects) and how the public reaction to that can often be Fucking Weird.

Anyway here, have a snippet of Kevin Day taken five seconds before disaster struck:

He remembered looking over his shoulder in the last quarter and seeing one of the PAs whispering something at Coach Marinho’s ear, and how her eyebrows nearly disappeared on her hairline. Kevin had a second to frown, and wondered if maybe Park’s sprain on the first quarter ended up more serious than it looked, but then Celia was rebounding the ball his way and he had to move on. The Dragonflies won, as expected, 8-5. Kevin scored three of those goals, and his shoulder was only faintly aching when they filed out of the court and into the Away locker room. He had gotten a bad check on the first game of the playoffs that had him worried for a minute, there. He was just toweling off his hair when he noticed the uncommon silence around him. His team is usually quite chatty, even if he himself doesn’t participate very often. Seven years out of the Foxes taught Kevin some manners, and he learned to keep his post-game opinions to himself when not directly asked, which mainly meant not talking at all. Still, he liked to listen to the friendly chatter of his teammates as background noise, and its sudden absence was jarring. So was looking up to find them all staring at him. “Can I help you?” No one seemed inclined to talk, and all eyes turned to their captain. Jordan Park, backliner, main draw of the Dragonflies’ strong defense line and one of the only players with seniority over Kevin in the team. In fact, he had been a senior with the Jackals when Kevin was in his freshman year – the Ravens won their match, but Park was a good share of the reason why it was only by a hair. Eleven years was on the longer end of a pro backliner career, and with the frequency which minor checks on Park turned into injuries lately, he likely didn’t have a lot of seasons left in him. Kevin tried not to flex his shoulder. “Uh, Day,” He stammered, and if Kevin was on edge before, the hesitant tone made him want to hurl. “Maybe you should check your phone.” Kevin's first instinct was to think, My dad. He was fishing his phone out of the locker, powering it up and watching with fascinated dread as the notifications poured in. The ‘06 Foxes (and Robin) groupchat was exploding. Nicky had tried to videocall even though it was an ungodly hour in Berlin. Neil had sent him ten messages that were differently worded pleas of “call us when the game is over” and “no matter what you do, DON’T READ IT”. What it meant was left unhelpfully out of the texts. Most damning of all were his top notifications. Andrew had called him twice, five minutes after the bell rang. If Kevin had hit his locker before the showers, he would have catched it exactly. Andrew never called anyone more than once. According to him, if someone didn’t pick up the first time, it was no longer his responsibility. Checking his phone did nothing to answer Kevin’s doubts and he could feel the panic setting in his lungs. And then Andrew called the third time.

[ravenssunshine]

i’ve been retweeting a lot of stuff about the war in israel/gaza today. if you don’t mind, i’m going to share my own thoughts now. i hope you’ll take some time to read.

my background is i went to a jewish day school for five years, speak some level of hebrew, and lived in israel for three months. i still have family and friends there. while i was studying in israel, i encountered a teacher who drove me absolutely nuts. we did not share the same viewpoints. i argued with him with every breath. he was so conservative i almost couldn’t believe it. i ended up leaving his group after he stated that there was no way a jew could marry a nonjew.

this man sent our class groupchat a text linking to an article on february 2nd: https://www.timesofisrael.com/an-open-letter-to-israels-friends-in-north-america/

this nationalistic clown of an american who decided to live in israel begged us to speak out against what netanyahu had done to the israeli government. netanyahu is the israeli nationalistic clown to end all clown. when the others are speaking out AGAINST him, you know there’s something wrong. this article warns of an inevitable disaster if we didn’t do something about netanyahu. we’re living that disaster right now.

the time to call your representatives and to protest the american ties to the israeli government (the GOVERNMENT. not israeli owned businesses. i will never support boycotting israeli businesses. “that israeli business supports israel” likely thing for them to do) was months ago. israelis have been protesting it for months. it’s not right now. right now israel needs its hostages to come home and gaza needs a ceasefire. if you wanted peace in gaza and you wanted to a chance to criticize israel without criticizing those of us who live in the diaspora, that time was months ago. when you ignore relative peacetime middle eastern politics (i say relative because i acknowledge that israel and palestine have not experienced a moment of true peace yet), you are contributing to the ongoing plight of palestinians who live in gaza and the west bank under israeli siege.

those of us with any sort of connection to israel cannot stand with your “free palestine” movement, even when we want exactly what you want. only, you won’t criticize the government. you’ll only criticize the people and you’ll only do it when they are suffering. your antisemitism is poorly masked.

here’s the article. it’s mostly worth the read. it’s also irrelevant now that we didn’t do anything when they asked us to.

[mejaemin]

dafuq? - xu minghao

wc: 0.5k

summary: you try the dafuq trend on your boyfriend, minghao

warnings: crack, nothing else rlly!

an: CONGRATS TO SVT FOR WINNING THEIR DAESANGS !!! seeing them all cry broke me ngl… anyways to celebrate here’s this silly little thing i wrote spontaneously just now, including the main subject of my thoughts (totally not bc im working on a hao oneshot rn…)

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

you sit down with minghao, three sets of mugs in front of you. on the dining table’s centerpiece, your phone rests on it with the camera open. your press a kiss to your boyfriend’s lips before hitting record.

his hand slips around your waist, and you didn’t notice, but future you is so happy you were able to capture the look of pure love on his face. “you know, i never really understood why you felt the need to record everything we do like this, but i looked back on one of the videos and it was actually kind of entertaining.” he says, kissing your hair. he’s referencing the ‘vlogs’ you have a tendency to record when you’re with him. per his request you don’t post them, but your favorite pastime is looking through them and occasionally sending a clip to your shared groupchat.

“i know right? your face is always so funny, like ‘oh this feels so dumb, blah blah blah, but my cute girlfriend enjoys it so okay!’ and it always makes me laugh. dafuq?”

it takes everything in you to not burst out laughing at the way his eyebrow immediately lifts, looking between your face and the camera. you sigh, disguising your giggle as a cough before sliding the three mugs into frame.

“anyways.. me and my boyfriend, say hi.” you gesture to him, and he waves to the camera with his signature :I face. “..are going to be trying three new tea flavors, dafuq?”

this time, his reaction is a little more harsh as he gives you a side eye, a slight grimace pulling on his lips. when you turn to look at him, his eyes squint as if he’s trying to see through your innocent facade. finally, he leans back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “what? go on.” he gestures to the drinks in front of you.

you smile. “okay! so first is this osmanthus one. i’ll try first, dafuq?” bringing the mug to your lips, you take a sip. it’s unfortunate that you’re in the middle of trying to prank your boyfriend because it really does taste good, but the show must go on.

you give the cup to minghao, swallowing before nodding enthusiastically. “good! i really like it, dafuq? what do you think, babe?” you turn to him, tilting your head slightly.

he sighs, putting the cup down on the table before responding. “it would taste better if you stopped saying that. i love you, but you sound stupid.” he deadpans.

that’s all it takes before you break down laughing, folding over in your chair as you bring yourself to tears. he just sits there, with a look that screams ‘i do not associate with such idiocy’. once you finally calm down, you’re wiping tears from your eyes.

“oh my god, hao! i was joking, jeonghan sent me a tiktok of someone doing that and i just had to-“ he cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“and that’s exactly where you went wrong, falling victim to his bullshit.”

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────