#this is the kind of reaction channel i love

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 oscar piastri x girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . Oscar Piastri can't help but gush about his girlfriend in every interview, effortlessly weaving you into his conversations with pride and admiration

( main naster list | more of oscar piastri ) ( requests )

Oscar Piastri had a habit—one that everyone in the paddock noticed almost immediately. He couldn’t stop talking about his girlfriend. And not just in the offhand, casual way people might expect, like a passing mention here or there. No, when Oscar talked about you, it was like flipping a switch. His entire demeanor softened, his eyes lit up, and his words came tumbling out with an earnestness that left no room for doubt: he was absolutely, irrevocably smitten, and he made sure the world knew it.

It started innocently enough during an interview early in his rookie season. The journalist had asked about his study habits for learning new tracks, expecting a typical response about simulator hours or reviewing footage. But Oscar, with that easy grin of his, took a completely different direction. “I mean, I’ve seen how my girlfriend studies for her exams, so this should be pretty easy,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he added, “She’s top of her class, by the way.” The pride in his voice was palpable, his expression glowing with admiration. The journalist couldn’t help but chuckle, already mentally jotting down notes to find out more about this mysterious academic powerhouse who clearly had Oscar wrapped around her finger.

And that was just the beginning.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

During a fan stage Q&A, he managed to take things up a notch. A young fan asked how he stays calm under pressure, and Oscar didn’t even need a moment to think. He leaned into the mic, his face lighting up in that boyish, unfiltered way of his. “Oh, that’s easy. The other night, my girlfriend—she’s a top athlete, by the way—was prepping for this big event she had. Watching her manage everything so smoothly kind of puts my little race stress into perspective.”

The crowd’s reaction was immediate: a mix of cheers, laughter, and a collective ‘aww’ that made Oscar’s cheeks flush faintly. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, like he hadn’t just melted half the audience’s hearts with a single sentence. The sincerity in his tone was undeniable, and the moment was all the more charming because it was clear Oscar didn’t think he was doing anything out of the ordinary. He was just telling the truth, proud and in awe of you as always.

But even then, he wasn’t done. “Honestly,” he added with a laugh, “if I handled pressure half as well as she does, I’d be unstoppable.” It was a line delivered with such casual reverence that it didn’t just make the fans smile—it left them convinced that Oscar Piastri wasn’t just a rising star in Formula 1; he was also a contender for the title of world’s best boyfriend.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then there was the time he was caught on McLaren’s YouTube channel, unabashedly gushing about how much he loved going shopping with you. It started as a casual behind-the-scenes segment—just Oscar and Lando killing time between commitments. But when the topic of hobbies came up, Oscar’s eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“No, seriously,” he began, animatedly waving his hands as Lando looked at him like he’d lost the plot. “She’s got this incredible eye for things. Like, we’ll walk into a store, and she’ll just pick something up and instantly know it’s perfect. I don’t even know how she does it.”

Lando, ever the mischief-maker, raised an eyebrow. “And what’s your contribution to this magical shopping experience?”

Oscar didn’t miss a beat. “I…carry the bags,” he said with a proud grin. “It’s a good system.”

Lando snorted, muttering, “Golden retriever boyfriend,” under his breath, fully expecting Oscar to deny it. But Oscar, in his usual laid-back way, just shrugged and smiled wider. “I mean, if the shoe fits.” The clip went viral almost instantly, with fans agreeing that if there were ever a category for Boyfriend of the Year, Oscar was already a shoo-in.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then, there was the time during a press junket when a reporter asked him about his organization skills. The question was meant to highlight how drivers juggle their packed schedules, but Oscar’s response was anything but rehearsed.

He laughed, a warm, self-deprecating sound that filled the room. “Honestly, I would’ve been doomed yesterday if my girlfriend hadn’t reminded me about something I forgot. She’s the organized one in the relationship. I just…drive cars fast and hope for the best.”

The room burst into laughter, a few reporters exchanging amused glances at his candidness. But Oscar just grinned, his expression softening with the unmistakable fondness that always seemed to creep into his voice when he talked about you.

“It’s true,” he added with a shrug, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to openly admit just how much he relied on you. And that was the magic of Oscar Piastri—his genuine, unabashed love for you turned even the simplest of conversations into something that felt warm and unforgettable.

Even in the most casual conversations with fans, you always managed to find your way into the spotlight through Oscar’s words. Like the time a fan brought him a book about racing during an autograph session. He accepted it with a warm smile, flipping through the pages for a moment before looking up. “Oh, my girlfriend loves reading,” he said, almost absentmindedly but with so much fondness it felt deliberate. “She’ll probably finish this before I do and then give me all the highlights. Saves me time.”

The fan giggled, clearly charmed, while the rest of the queue exchanged knowing smiles. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it, like mentioning you was the most natural thing in the world. And for Oscar, it was.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then there was the post-race interview after one of his toughest performances. He’d started the race in a dismal qualifying position, clawing his way through the pack to secure points in a way that left commentators breathless. By the time he reached the interview pen, his suit was damp with sweat, and exhaustion painted his features. But even then, the familiar warmth of his smile made an appearance as he approached the mic.

“You know,” he began, his voice still catching its breath but steady, “I think a big part of getting through today was remembering something my girlfriend told me.” His words were met with curious expressions from the reporters, who leaned in just a little closer. “She’s amazing at staying positive no matter what, and she’s always reminding me to focus on what I can control.”

He paused for a second, his gaze drifting toward the camera as if he was speaking directly to you. “So, yeah, this one’s for her.”

The sincerity in his voice left no room for doubt. This wasn’t just an offhand mention or a fleeting thought. You weren’t just his girlfriend in name or title—you were his anchor. The way he spoke of you wasn’t just endearing; it was grounding, a reflection of how much you truly meant to him. 

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One of the sweetest displays of Oscar’s affection unfolded during a behind-the-scenes McLaren vlog. The team had been filming some candid moments during a break, and the camera panned to Oscar sitting in a corner, scrolling through his phone. His expression was soft, his lips curved into a barely-there smile. Then, as if remembering something, he nudged Lando, who was lounging next to him.

“Oh, look, my girlfriend,” Oscar said, holding up his phone. His voice was tinged with a quiet kind of excitement, like he’d discovered a hidden treasure he couldn’t wait to share. The camera zoomed in just enough to catch the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at the photo. “She sent me this earlier. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Lando let out an exaggerated groan, flopping dramatically against the couch. “Mate, you’re insufferable,” he muttered, though the amused grin on his face betrayed him. “Do you ever stop?”

“Not when it comes to her,” Oscar replied without missing a beat, his smile growing wider as he looked at the picture one more time before carefully locking his phone.

The clip went viral within hours of the vlog’s release. Fans couldn’t get over how sweet—and utterly smitten—Oscar was. Comments flooded in, praising his open adoration and dubbing him the “ultimate golden retriever boyfriend.”

But for those who knew him, this was just Oscar being himself. No matter where he was or what he was doing, you were always on his mind. And he made sure everyone around him knew just how proud he was to call you his. Whether it was your achievements, your quirks, or simply the way you lit up his life, Oscar never stopped finding ways to weave you into the conversation.

It wasn’t just about the words he said, though. It was the way he said them—with genuine admiration, unwavering pride, and a love so pure it could light up the entire paddock. His tone softened when he spoke about you, his expression grew warmer, and his smile turned just a little brighter.

If Oscar Piastri was the golden retriever boyfriend the world had come to adore, then you were undoubtedly his favorite human, his everything, the one who made all his happiest stories worth telling.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The atmosphere was electric at the Yas Marina Circuit, the tension so palpable it could’ve powered the floodlights. It was the last Grand Prix of the season, and everything was on the line for McLaren—the Constructors' Championship title hung in the balance. Among the sea of orange and black, you stood out—not just because you were there to support Oscar Piastri, but because you radiated an energy that seemed to magnetize the young driver to your side.

From the moment you both arrived on Thursday for media day, fans couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast in your personalities. Oscar, always reserved and thoughtful, seemed content to let you take the lead, his quiet confidence complimented by your vibrant presence. When a fan asked how you two had met, you lit up with a mischievous smile.

“I adopted him when we were in school,” you said, glancing fondly at Oscar, who was shyly smiling at the ground. “I guess he just stuck to my side.”

Oscar, standing beside you, squeezed your hand in his as he chuckled. “Well, it’s hard not to stick to you. You kind of pull people in.”

Throughout the weekend, Oscar was a picture of quiet affection. Whether it was holding your hand, wrapping an arm around you, or resting his chin on your head during quieter moments, his touch was constant. Fans caught glimpses of him whispering things to you that made you laugh, your bubbly personality clearly rubbing off on him in the best ways.

When race day arrived, the stakes were high, and Oscar’s nerves were evident. But even after a dramatic first-lap collision with Max Verstappen that caused him to spin out and drop down the grid, you were still cheering for him like he’d just secured pole position.

By the time the checkered flag waved, McLaren had done it—they’d secured the Constructors' Championship. Despite Oscar’s rocky race, you were beaming with pride as he pulled into the pit lane. Seeing your smile waiting for him made every frustration of the day vanish from his mind.

After the podium celebrations for the team, a surprising transformation unfolded. Your extroverted energy seemed to seep into Oscar as if he’d caught your enthusiasm like a contagious laugh. Gone was the usual quiet and composed Oscar. In his place was a driver buzzing with excitement, grinning from ear to ear as he darted around the paddock.

He didn’t just take pictures with the team; he orchestrated them like a director at a photo shoot. “Lando, get over here! And grab that trophy!” he called, dragging his teammate into a chaotic group photo. When Lando least expected it, Oscar grabbed a bottle of leftover champagne and sprayed him without mercy, laughing so hard he had to lean on you for balance.

“You’re ridiculous!” you teased, wiping the champagne splatter off your face.

Oscar grinned wickedly. “Oh, am I now?” Before you could react, he turned the champagne on you, spraying it in a gleeful arc. You squealed, half-laughing, half-shouting as the fizzy liquid soaked your hair and clothes.

“Oscar!”

He set the bottle down and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your cheek as if that would make up for it. “You look even better drenched in champagne,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. His giggles, boyish and utterly unguarded, filled the space between you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile as you ruffled his hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The two of you stood there in the middle of the celebration, drenched in champagne and surrounded by the joyous chaos of the team. Oscar looked at you, his face softening. “I couldn’t have done this without you, you know. Even when it’s rough, you make it all worth it.”

You smiled up at him, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. “And I’ll always be here, no matter what.”

[dominarava]

Angel

Ghostface × Female!Reader

CW: Dub/Non-Con, Blood, Stalking, Breaking & Entering, usual fucked up GF stuff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: The quiet guy in your discord server decides to chat you up in the general vc, and as expected, has a lot more to unpack than you ever expected.

Notes: I was lazy and just posted the ugly default AO3 link when I first posted this, so I'm coming back and making it look nicer with new and improved tags lol

This piece doesn't specify who is really behind the mask, so whoever you want is up to you~

I had fun with this and left light references to the movies, Dead By Daylight, and Mortal Kombat to honor some of my favorite appearances of him-- hopefully it doesn't ruin the immersion lol

I don't usually leave notes, but it's been a while and I've adored all the comments and kudos I've gotten in my absence, cause at the end of the day, that's what will always bring me back. I love all your support and time reading this and hopefully I have more soon to come for you all!

Thank you again so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! 🔪💕✨️

AO3 Link

This had become the nightly habit: get off work, make dinner, chill with the lads in a Discord call until bedtime. Mindlessly playing a game, you weren't surprised by the sound of someone joining the call, however you were surprised by who it was. He was a rando that had joined a while back, was nice enough, but didn't have much to say as he relegated himself to really only short replies or emoji reactions. You could have sworn he posted a thirst trap without his face in the #selfies channel, but you weren't 100% sure. When he would join calls he would always stay muted, opting to reply in the text chat or not at all, merely listening to and enjoying just being around the good times happening. All the same, you felt it rude to not say at least a little hello. 

“Hey! How’re you doin’ tonight?” 

“Hey there~” 

The voice on the other side was low, having a bit of a flirtatious twang in the sigh of his greeting. Your heart skipped a beat, you weren't sure if he had ever spoken to you, much less anyone else in the server. And if you were being honest, he sounded kind of hot. Letting the giddy feeling ride, you tried to keep him talking since it was just the two of you. 

“Woah–” You poked cheekily, “I dunno if I've heard you say anything before.” 

“I'm more of a one-on-one kind of guy,” He offered smoothly, “But I enjoy listening to everyone having a good time.” 

“Fair–” 

The air fell dead as you wondered what to talk about next, letting him cut into the silence with a question, “So.. what's your favorite scary movie?” 

Having just finished a server horror movie night not too long ago, the question felt like a natural segway into your interests, “Hmmnn that's actually a good question– I think if we're just talkin’ horror in general my first and favorite would have to be Silence Of The Lambs. The back and forth relationship between Clarice and Dr. Lecter was probably one of the most challenging to my mind at the ripe age of twelve, since then I've loved horror that has a female protagonist that is put under pressure by the killer to make difficult choices and solve the puzzle he left for her.

“But– that's not to say pieces like Substance or Midsommer aren't incredible mentally challenging works of art to me, I love both, along with movies like The Empty Man, Smile, It Follows, The VVitch, The Void, V/H/S–”

He cut your train with a light chuckle, “I definitely want to know which you thought was better, Smile or It Follows, but I meant to ask, what’s your favorite slasher movie?” 

You gave this one a lot more consideration as your heart swelled with a damning excitement at the thought of your favorite killers, “That's such a hard choice! Of course Micheal Myers from <i>Halloween</i> is like everyone's big daddy– but I think if I had to choose it would have to be Stab! Ghostface is just a lot more fun, playful, and let's be honest– horny.” 

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, “Why's that?” 

How his tone seemed to curl at the end of his words made your chest tighten and a heat rise to your cheeks, “I mean, at the heart of it.. the voice actor responsible for his voice changer in the movie said that his tone is flirtatious, beyond that– between the fact that the first Ghostface seemed to get off on the idea of causing his object of obsession, Sidney, the most pain possible by the mocking of her mother being the town bicycle and it's even pointed to at the end of the movie that the two who were behind the Ghostface killings were the same two that brutalized Sidney's mother–” 

“Goddamn–” Nearly groaning his words as he cut you off, he cleared his throat and pressed, “Good girl~ You sure do know your stuff.” Praising you with words that melted like chocolate over your tongue, your mind tilted at his words, ‘Good girl’. 

Good girl?!

“Excu–”

“I fuckin’ love girls like you–” He went on, swearing you could hear the ache of him through the call, “Your type always knows how really appreciate us..” 

‘Us’?

Before you could get a word in, he went on, “Buuut it looks like that's my cue– I hope you're ready for some fun this evening.” Leaving the conversation with the disconnect sound chiming through your ears in silence to process what just happened. 

The sound of him leaving the call let a wash of relief run over you, only lasting for a moment as the floor creaking caught your attention with arms wrapping you in a winding embrace. Having your arms pinned at your sides, your hands flailed looking for any sort of way out. Only, the way your grip seemed to find his length caged behind his pants before skirting over to the long hunting knife strapped to his leg, making your struggle against him stop with a gasp.

“Yeah.. that's all for you Babe, whatever you need– so.. let's behave.. alright..?” The same voice that was lingering in your headset only moments ago was in high definition against your back. 

Firmly pressing his hand over your mouth, you froze as someone else joined the empty call with you, “Hey you there?” 

Your headphones loud enough for him to hear, an uneasy pause passed between you two as his hold over your lips lessened, “Yeah-” He let you breathe through his nitrile gloved fingers.

“Good, kinda glad he's gone, he's chill and all, but it kinda bugs me that he's just in here just dead-ass silent all the time. Fuckin’ weird.” 

Looking over your shoulder a bit to get any sort of a look at him, you were only met with the deep black drooping eyes framed by a gasping bone white mask. Familiarity of the visage made your heart drop into your stomach, forcing you to chew on the harsh fact that that same familiarity you knew to fear, also brought the flutter of butterflies in with it.  

A rough bump of his hips to your back-end snapped you out of your own mind and made you bark out, “Uh– Same– he is kinda weird, I've– talked to him a little bit and he just– seems like a bit of a creep..”

“Oooh shit whaddaya mean?” 

He peered over your shoulder to look at you, curious to see how you would pull this along as his other hand pushed at the elastic of your pajama bottoms, “He uh– waited for everyone to leave– and then started hella chatting me up–” 

“Are you good? It sounds like you're doing something.” 

Eyeing him, the slight nod of his head coaxed you to keep talking while his fingers made their home in exploring your heat, “Yeah I'm fine– I think I pulled a muscle and I–”

“Oh shit– sorry, one sec– groceries are here, I'll be back in a minute!”

At the sound of her disconnection he lifted you up with a near effortless toss onto the bed, wasting no time crawling on top of you to get at what little clothing was left with his blade. Watching the fabric dance away from your frame, he gripped your wrist as you tried to switch your mic off.

“Go on.. stay in that call.. let ‘em all know what a stagy little whore you are.” He pushed, lifting the hem of his hoodie above the glimmer of the silver button hiding his length behind the black denim. 

No time was wasted getting into you, making himself at home between your legs with a few rough thrusts and shivering grunts that made your mind twist. Squirming under him the grit falling off his boots into your blankets made you buck against him in frustration, earning a low sigh from him as his beat picked up. 

“Mmn if you keep fighting me.. I'll gut you like a fucking pig.” Groaning into your ear, the delicate touch of his knife teased itself between your breasts. 

Defiance sparked in you to bite back, “If we're– oh god– following the rules, you'll just do it anyway–” 

The blade pulled its edge against your skin, splitting you like a ripe peach under its cut, “True.. but the killer's favorite little slut never dies.. she's gotta make it to the sequel, the trilogy, hell! Maybe a whole fuckin’ saga..”

Suddenly ringing in your ear the sound of the bluetooth assistant chimed,

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

You held your lips tight as the length of him pushed to the hilt over and over, letting the air in the call stay dead as your friend and others passed through, thinking you were away from your keyboard. 

“What’s wrong? Suddenly have nothing to say? I thought you liked the idea of being yanked around by a big man with a knife? Little different than on the big screen, ain't it Babe?” 

You could practically hear him purring behind the mask, his pace slowing to deep grind as you felt the rub of his metal pants zipper dig into your skin like a threat.

“Mmmm– remember a couple weeks back– we were all watching that scary movie– when you wouldn't shut the fuck up about how you wanted to ride that slashers cock like a carnival ride– fuck you don't know what that did to me– hearing you get all giddy about bouncing on dick after a kill– goddamn you don't have a fuckin’ clue– how bad I wanted bust through that fuckin’ window and tear you apart–” 

Gripping his palm across your eyes to pin your head to the bed, the unrelenting barrage of what came was less of a kiss and more of a hostile takeover of your senses. You couldn't tell how long you were left to his devices, using you with the excitement of a new sex doll he'd been waiting months for. The fight in you began to fade with the swipe of your tongue to his, earning the zeal of him rutting into you harder. 

“See.. I knew you'd love it..” 

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

Dipping down to your chest to kiss the fresh wound that lay spilling blood around your breasts, taking in the heavy scent of your rubies like a jewel thief making his biggest heist. Slipping his free hand over your chest to the slick of your nipple made you gasp as a perfect distraction before pulling his mask back down. Adorning his usual visage now laid a smeared print of your life in blinding crimson, letting that be the first and only thing you saw as he let you have your vision back in the darkness. Against the blur of your eyes readjusting from the pressure of his weight on them, the dip of his frame dropping against yours with his hands gripping the sides of your head in a vice made you dizzy with a feral beat between your legs. Throughout his treatment you didn't feel that familiar latex rub of a barrier between you, forcing your stomach into a twist as his panting behind the mask got heavier. 

The first grace of the evening came when you finally heard the powering down beeping of your headset giving its last bit of juice before cutting out. Unbound by the fear of being heard, your voice let out a moan that vibrated the silence of the dead air room. Relaxing a little under him, he pushed your rear up, angling himself better to pump deep before running his fingers over the tacky blood joining the fresh on your chest in a macabre mess. Having the dig of his fingertips into the open wound weeping from you was a new kind of violation before he breathed out a shaken manic pleasure from the mask that captivated you. 

“Oh fuck– I'm going to smear your blood over my every  fucking pore!” The bubbling frenzy in his tone gave away his devouring bliss as it promised to swallow you whole. 

Honestly, you weren't long for the session either way as he found just the right spot to rub his tip into the soft warmth of you hugging his length and perfect grind of his mound against your bud aching to come undone. Seeing him watch you in those last moments before you went over the edge was enough to send you there as you trembled and cried out under his grip. Moaning and reaching to touch him in any way you could, you couldn't get enough of him as your body craved the closeness it needed. Expecting swift punishment for the affection, he surprised you by taking your hand in his, slowing his pace. Lacing your fingers as one, the gentle caress of his thumb to your skin had your rose colored glasses as red as they could be. Watching with a affectionately hazed gaze while he pinned you down, your skin when cold as his words dripped from his lips like sweet poison: 

“You think you're getting away that easy? I'm just gonna cum and that be that? No.. I prepared for this all day. You're not goin’ fucking anywhere.”

[lostdemifiend]

We BINGED *RWBY* Volume 5

Let's talk about Sorta Stupid, formerly known as Nani no Anime. A group of friends that sit down and watch different shows as a reaction channel.

I was really worried when I found out that they were going to do RWBY, as they felt like the typical anime watcher. But more and more I could feel something different, and it's this:

Whatever they watch, they're willing to meet the media on its own terms. Much of what they focus on are what makes them feel emotions strongly, which a piece of media should do.

[teplejtrouba]

i have managed to actually do a hobby for the first time in months. yippee

[teenagefeeling]

you know youtube has gone seriously downhill when even people like amazingphil and leena norms are posting reddit videos

[narcissusneverknewme]

a very select portion of personalities trigger my latent tsundere traits.

In reverse of the usual order, this feels all the worse if they are fictional.

[checkeredflagggs]

Three Hearts Left

Pairing: max verstappen x fem!gamer!reader

summary: fans (and friends) are shocked when they find max is married and to who

a/n: I’m only a casual gamer so take it with a grain of salt

a/n 2: sorry it’s a really late - the weather hates me personally (it is actually September and doesn’t need to be 85* 😡) and it drained my creativity also I got hella sick so 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n 3: I know I use the name Twitter when talking about that site. I’ll stop deadnaming it when musk rat does too

a/n 4: still not feeling 100% but I wanted to get this out for max’s bday!!

catpawsgaming

Welcome to the CatTree with the paw prints 🐾 ! I’m just a cat 🐈 mom Lady™ who loves the gaming but not the camera 📷. I’ve been playing games all my life and have been streaming for 3 years — as a hobby, not a full time job. I love my 2 cats, my handsome man, and you 🫵 all my lovely fans. You most definitely make all this worthwhile so mwah mwah 💋💋 (video)

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 6,583,455 others

catpawsgaming: here we go! Baldur’s Gate 3 has been highly highly requested — so I bought it! …yesterday and forgot about it cause curse of capitalism I still have my day job 😭 but away we go!

As always, if you didn’t manage to catch my livestream it’ll be on my page and I’ll be uploading it to my YouTube channel tomorrow! My YouTube will have the 3 usual versions (one unedited with my reactions, one with just the game play, and one with no sound at all but with closed captions)

Next stream date and game tbh announced but will probably be this Sunday with Animal Crossing (fingers crossed 🤞🤞 I finally get a good turnip price 😭😭 Daisy Mae hasn’t been kind to me lately…)

view all comments

user1: guuuurrrrrrrllll it’s about time you got bg3! We been waiting

↳ catpawsgaming: definitely worth the wait though! I had so much fun and it was so hard to stop for the night

↳ user2: for sure it was 🤣 your reactions to shadowheart and astarion were hilarious

↳ catpawsgaming: they clocked my type on point

user3: glad we convinced you to become a bard! You’ll rock it 💙

↳ catpawsgaming: ok but this the closest you will get me to actually performing so enjoy it while it lasts

↳ user3: not gonna sing along?

↳ catpawsgaming: 🤣🤣🤣 🫵 🤡

↳ catpawsgaming: absolutely not.

↳ catpawsgaming: also handsome just bust out laughing at the thought of me singing so…🙄🙄🙄 he’s lucky I love him

↳ handsome: I am very lucky liefje

↳ user3: ahhhh we were so close to her singing but also awwww cause handsome is here!!

handsome: liefje this was amazing

↳ catpawsgaming: thank you 🥰🥰

↳ catpawsgaming: but also you were laughing at me the entire night so…

↳ catpawsgaming: not sure how much I believe you

↳ handsome: well I didn’t say it was good…

↳ catpawsgaming: 🤨😒😔😢

↳ handsome: 🥰🥰🥰

user4: oh to have a man that will spend hours with you doing separate hobbies together…

↳ catpawsgaming: gotta admit it’s the dream

↳ handsome: you’re the dream liefje

↳ user4: ok there handsome, no need to get sappy here on MY comment thread

Private Messages

mv1updates

liked by user, user, user, and 2,833,736 others

mv1updates: Max was streaming today! Just a short one but highly entertaining. Jimmy (or Sassy? I’m honestly baffled and for the life of me can’t tell them apart 😢) caused a small disturbance in the middle of his stream then slept the rest away in Max’s lap 😍

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user5: that was sooooo adorable!! Love seeing more cat dad Max

↳ user6: same! And don’t feel bad admin - I can’t tell them apart either

user7: to be Jimmy…🥵

↳ user8: right? What I wouldn’t give to be sleeping away in his lap…

↳ user9: blessed be. His damn thighs man 😳

user10: ok but am I the only one that heard a female voice in the background?

↳ user11: I THOUGHT I WAS GOING INSANE?? Like there was definitely someone there

↳ user12: wait when?

↳ user10: when max turned the camera to show jimmy on top

Private Messages

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 5,822,944 others

catpawsgaming: and Daisy Mae delivered this week! Sunday I got a price of 90 and today!! Selling price of turnips is 658 this evening!! Woohoo!

I've got my usual set up going to allow visitors to sell and I’ll be playing for about 4 or 5 hours so let’s make some cash today! I just ask you be respectful of my island.

As always, if you didn’t manage to catch my livestream it’ll be on my page and I’ll be uploading it to my YouTube channel tomorrow! My YouTube will have the 3 usual versions (one unedited with my reactions, one with just the game play, and one with no sound at all but with closed captions)

My week is looking pretty busy (a lot of traveling happening) so my next stream will probably be sometime next week and I’ll be playing Horizon: Zero Dawn! Its sequel will be coming out soon and I want to replay the first to refamiliarize myself with the game!

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user13: yeessssss! I’ve been holding out that someone would have some fantastic selling prices this week! New house upgrade here I come!

↳ user14: oh don’t I know it! It’s been a downward slump all week for me — the high was 105 😭😭

↳ user13: ouch 🤕

user15: did anyone else hear the cat meowing in the background!

↳ user16: yes! Catpaws has got a couple of cats — they’re almost never on stream (they don’t like staying in one place for long) but catpaws got them right before they started streaming!

↳ catpawsgaming: 2 of them! They’re my babies! 🐈🐈

↳ user15: awwwww 😍😍

user17: can I say something? Is this a safe place?

↳ user18: it is not but say it anyway

↳ user17: it totally looks like she’s got a wedding ring on in the beginning of this stream

↳ user18: nurse! She’s out again

↳ user19: no no no let her cook. I totally thought the same. It was literally just a glimpse but I swear that she had a ring on

↳ user17: thank you! I knew I wasn’t crazy

↳ user19: but! That does mean our catpaws is married!!!!!

↳ user17: 😱

↳ user18: 😱

↳ user19: 😱

↳ catpawsgaming: 😉

↳ handsome: 💙

↳ user17: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?

catpawsupdates

liked by user, user, user, and 3,126,918 others

catpawsupdates: we’ve had a couple of requests lately asking about catpawsgaming and her cats! These are the first and last photo we’ve gotten — she’s incredibly secretive about them so we don’t know if this is the same cat in both photos or if she has 2 bengals (peep also handsome in the first photo. Catpaws was laughing when she posted that photo cause she’s usually the passenger princess)

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user20: I LOVE THEM

↳ user21: same! Insert that meme. “I’ve only had them for a day but if anything happened to them I kill everyone else then myself”

↳ user22: extreme but agreeable.

user23: that’s sassy - I’d bet money on it

↳ user24: sassy? What? Who?

↳ user23: sassy verstappen! F1 world champion max verstappen’s cat

↳ user24: ummm? This is a page for a small time gamer catpawsgaming

↳ user23: listen. Torture couldn’t get me to admit how long I’ve spent staring at pictures and videos of jimmy and sassy. But that is absolutely sassy!

↳ user17: I’m connecting the dots as I type

↳ user18: you’re not connecting shit

↳ user17: CONNECTING THE DOTS AS I TYPE

Private Messages

Bluesky

Private Messages

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 3,712,222 others

catpawsgaming: tonight’s stream is gonna be a little late — I’m currently being held hostage by the cutest kidnapper ever

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user24: awwww

user25: your right. You simply can’t move!

↳ catpawsgaming: completely pinned down!

↳ user25: I don’t think anyone is gonna have a problem with your steam being late tonight

↳ user26: I’ve spoken to the council and we don’t! In fact we all vote for a stream of literally just the cat

↳ catpawsgaming:…you know that is an idea

↳ user26: omg. OMG. OH MY GOD!!

user23: THATS JIMMY!! I SWEAR ON MY LIFE

↳ user27: ok grandma. Let’s get you back to bed

handsome: so that’s where the little troublemaker is

↳ user28: omg hi handsome! Where’ve you been?

↳ catpawsgaming: ok I love all my fans but plz stop flirting with my man

↳ user28: can I flirt with you instead?

↳ catpawsgaming: 😳

↳ handsome: no

Private Messages

Bluesky

user29: ITS MAX VERSTAPPEN AND CATPAWSGAMING!!!! I TOLD YOU ALL

↳ user30: ok but are we really gonna take a gossip page as the truth?

user31: OH MY GOD THAT CRAZY FAN WAS RIGHT?!?

↳ catpawsgamingfan: I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOOOOUUUUU

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maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 8,345,765 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: liefje I know this is not how we wanted to share our love with the world but a light in the darkness is now I get to talk about how much I love you and how you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. These past 5 years have been a dream come true — and it’s been a dream I never knew I had. Seeing you that first time, you took my breath away. Forget the trophies and the victories, the world championships and titles I’ve won — becoming your husband has topped every single one of them. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore and I wouldn’t ever want to

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yourusername: oh my handsome man…you are the light of my life, the moon in my night, the stars in the sky, the best husband ever and the most loving cat dad I could have ever wanted to spend my life with. Thank you thank you thank you for picking me and staying with me and fighting for me and with me 💋💋

[thedensworld]

Born Superhero | J.Ww

Genre: fluff, parent au!

Summary: Started as clueless father to superhero, watch how Wonwoo grow as a father... And a husband.

The pregnancy wasn’t an accident; it was simply... A little unexpected. Okay, very unexpected. You and Wonwoo had been married for only six months—still in the honeymoon phase, barely used to sharing closet space—when life threw you both a curveball.

Wonwoo was overseas on a business trip when he got the alarming call that you had passed out at work. The reassurances from friends didn’t help; his mind raced with every possibility, from exhaustion to something far worse. Before he knew it, he was on the earliest flight back, heart thudding as if it were trying to make its way home ahead of him.

When he finally walked through the door, ready to scold you for pushing yourself too hard, he was met with news that rendered him speechless: you were pregnant. He’d always imagined having kids... someday. But not when he was still trying to remember which side of the bed was "his."

His lips curled into a smile, the kind meant to comfort you as you nervously searched his face for a reaction. But inside? Oh, inside he was trembling so hard he half-expected an earthquake warning to pop up on the TV. Fatherhood. He was going to be a dad. The idea was thrilling, terrifying, and somehow as surreal as finding socks in the fridge.

"Well," he said, pulling you into his arms and trying not to sound like a man whose life just did a triple somersault, "I guess this explains why you kept craving pickles and ice cream together."

Wonwoo made it his mission to be your unwavering support system, even when a storm brewed behind his calm eyes. He bottled up the anxiety gnawing at him—the nagging questions about whether he’d be a good father, if he could handle the responsibility, or if he would ever stop feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of parenthood. He couldn’t bear the thought of adding his fears to your plate when you were already dealing with morning sickness that had you running to the bathroom at all hours, leg cramps that turned simple walks into wobbly adventures, and sleepless nights that left you both bleary-eyed.

So, he channeled every ounce of that anxious energy into action. He worked harder than ever, managing late nights and early mornings, making sure everything you could possibly need was taken care of—from prenatal vitamins to setting up the nursery with the precision of a man assembling a palace. Wonwoo learned to cook your favorite comfort meals, and when you suddenly decided the smell of his go-to cologne made you queasy, he switched brands without a word of complaint. He’d hold your hand through doctor appointments, his smile steady even as the “dad” word hovered in his mind like a flashing neon sign.

And when the big day came, Wonwoo felt time stop as he watched you, the love of his life, bring a new one into the world. All the fear, the endless late-night overthinking—it all melted away the moment he laid eyes on Jeon Rayi. The boy had his eyes, the same quiet intensity, and as he let out his first tiny wail, Wonwoo realized something: he was already a father, whether he felt ready or not.

As you cradled Rayi, exhausted but beaming, Wonwoo gently took his son into his arms. The weight was different than he expected, lighter but powerful, grounding him in a way he didn’t know he needed.

“Look at him,” you whispered, teary-eyed and smiling. “He’s your little twin.”

Wonwoo’s chest swelled with emotion as he looked down at Rayi, whose eyes were now blinking up at him as if to say, Gotcha, Dad.

One thing Wonwoo couldn’t quite shake from his mind was the moment before he first laid eyes on Rayi—the moment when you, exhausted and trembling, brought him into the world. He'd watched enough viral videos of husbands fainting in the delivery room to think he was prepared for anything. I’ll be fine, he’d told himself. But when it actually happened, when he saw you gripping the sides of the bed, your face etched with pain so raw it made his chest tighten, his whole body turned to stone. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, only stare wide-eyed as you endured each wave of agony.

Seeing you in pain, your body shaking as the delivery was finally declared successful, felt like a blow that rattled every nerve he had. All he wanted was to wrap you in his arms, to kiss away every tear and tell you a thousand times over how much he loved you. But he stood there, stunned and aching, until the first tiny cry of Rayi snapped him back to reality.

When the nurse placed Rayi in your arms, a hush fell over the room, broken only by your relieved sobs and the baby's soft whimpers. Wonwoo’s eyes misted as he took in the sight of you holding their son—this tiny, perfect reflection of him. The joy that filled him was almost overwhelming, a light so bright it nearly erased the memory of everything that had come before.

But later, when the room had quieted and it was just the three of you, Wonwoo sat by your side, gently brushing the hair from your damp forehead. His gaze flicked between you and Rayi, and a pained shadow passed over his eyes.

“Seeing you trembling after giving birth,” he whispered, voice hoarse and unsteady, “I don’t think we need more children. I can’t... I don’t want to see you in pain like that again.”

You looked up at him, exhaustion softening your features as you managed a small, tired smile. “Wonwoo, we’ll be okay. This little one is worth it,” you said, touching Rayi’s tiny fist as it clung to your finger.

He nodded, though the worry didn’t fully leave his expression. Deep inside, he knew you were right. Rayi was worth it. But the memory of your pain would be seared into his heart, a reminder of just how fiercely he loved you, and how deeply it shook him to see you hurt.

Wonwoo's journey as a first-time dad was filled with more surprises than he could have anticipated. In the first few weeks, he was as nervous as he had been the day Rayi was born, startled awake by every whimper and uncertain about every diaper change. He was meticulous to the point of being comical, triple-checking the swaddle and peeking into the crib every half hour to make sure Rayi was still breathing.

But as the months rolled on, something remarkable happened: Wonwoo began to relax into fatherhood. The once-trembling hands that struggled to button up tiny onesies became adept at cradling Rayi while half-asleep. He learned the art of the midnight bottle, perfecting a one-handed technique so he could hold Rayi close while warming up formula with the other. The exhaustion was bone-deep, but the sight of Rayi’s gummy smile each morning made every sleepless night worth it.

The two of you grew together as parents, finding comfort in the shared laughter and the quiet chaos of raising a newborn. Wonwoo discovered a new side of himself—one that sang silly songs at 3 a.m. just to keep Rayi from crying, that narrated mundane chores with animated voices as though he were performing on stage. His once measured, serious tone became playful and warm, especially when Rayi would respond with delighted giggles that made his heart swell.

There were moments of doubt, of course. Nights when Rayi was teething and inconsolable, when nothing seemed to work, and Wonwoo would feel the weight of his inadequacies creeping in. During those times, he’d find you both leaning on each other, whispering words of encouragement, your hands clasped in a silent promise that you were in this together. You’d remind him that parenting was messy, imperfect, and filled with trial and error, but that Rayi didn’t need perfection—he just needed love.

As Rayi grew from a newborn into a babbling infant, Wonwoo learned to celebrate the small milestones: the first time Rayi rolled over, the first tooth that peeked through his gums, and the first unsteady steps that had Wonwoo following close behind with arms outstretched, ready to catch him. Each new achievement was a moment of triumph not just for Rayi, but for Wonwoo too. Every smile, every laugh, every moment they shared felt like a victory, a reassurance that he was doing okay, that they were doing okay.

One evening, as the golden light of sunset streamed through the living room, Rayi toddled over with a wobbling gait, his chubby hands reaching out for his father. Wonwoo scooped him up, lifting him into the air and watching as Rayi squealed with joy. For a moment, all his early worries about fatherhood seemed like a distant memory. He met your eyes across the room, sharing a smile that spoke volumes about how far you’d both come.

“We did pretty well, didn’t we?” he said, more to himself, as Rayi wrapped his tiny arms around his neck in a triumphant hug.

“Yes, we did,” you replied, coming over to place a gentle hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, leaning in to kiss Rayi’s soft cheek.

In that moment, as Rayi laughed between the two of you, Wonwoo knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he was ready to face them—not alone, but with you and your little family, growing stronger and more full of love each day.

*

Wonwoo was out of the city for a schedule when his manager hurried toward him, phone in hand, urgency written all over his face. Wonwoo’s chest tightened. It had to be you calling. That was the compromise you both had made—only call when it was urgent. The same rule applied when he was home alone with Rayi, and you were out. If it could be handled without a call, texting was the way. But this was different. His manager wouldn’t rush over for a casual update.

“Y/N…” his manager muttered, handing him the phone. Wonwoo grabbed it immediately, putting it to his ear, his heart pounding.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. He strained to hear past the slight static on the line, but then it hit him—Rayi’s cries, loud and unrelenting in the background.

“Rayi has a fever,” you said, your voice edged with panic. “He’s been crying nonstop for the past hour. I’m on my way to the hospital.”

Wonwoo’s breath hitched. Rayi was rarely sick. The thought of his son, usually so bright and energetic, being unwell made his stomach twist. “Where are you taking him?” he asked, biting his lip to steady his voice.

“Seoul University Hospital,” you replied, and he could hear the tremble in your voice, paired with Rayi’s cries from the backseat. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else...”

“You’re doing a great job,” Wonwoo interrupted gently, his tone firm and reassuring. “I’ll figure out how to leave early. Please, update me when you get there?”

You hummed in acknowledgment, your breaths uneven. “I will.”

“And drive safely,” he added, his voice softening despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

The moment the call ended, Wonwoo sprang into action, explaining the situation to the managers and the members. The moment he mentioned Rayi’s fever, everyone rallied around him with understanding and support, urging him to leave immediately.

His manager didn’t waste a second, getting him into the car for the drive back to Seoul. On the way, Wonwoo stared out the window, fists clenched on his lap, running over every scenario in his head. You had mentioned in a text last night that Rayi was feeling warm, but neither of you had expected it to escalate this quickly.

Wonwoo stepped into the hospital, his pace bordering on a run. He hadn’t had time to change out of his work clothes, though he silently thanked his manager for packing a change of clothes in the car. Right now, none of that mattered. His only focus was reaching you and Rayi.

When he got to the room, his breath hitched. The sight of Rayi, lying pale and fragile in your arms with his tiny arm connected to an IV, shattered him. It was a stark contrast to the lively boy who usually filled the house with laughter. His heart broke into pieces.

“He just fell asleep,” you mouthed softly, careful not to disturb Rayi’s slumber.

Wonwoo nodded and immediately moved to sit beside you. His eyes stayed glued to his son as you gently laid Rayi down on the hospital bed, brushing a stray curl from his forehead before stepping away.

Without a word, Wonwoo stood and pulled you into his arms. His embrace was tight, as though holding you close could somehow erase the weight of the day. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt.

“Thank you for coming,” you murmured back, leaning into him.

He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as his eyes searched yours. He noticed the weariness etched into your features—the sleepless night, the worry, the stress of handling it all alone until he arrived. “How is he now?” he asked gently.

You let out a deep sigh. “The doctor said it’s likely a virus. They’re monitoring him, but his fever has come down.”

Relief flashed across Wonwoo’s face, though the worry in his eyes remained. He nodded, then pulled you into another hug, this one softer, his lips brushing against your hair. “You’re doing such an amazing job, love. Thank you for taking care of him.”

You smiled faintly against his chest, grateful for his words, even though the exhaustion still weighed heavily on you.

“You should rest now,” Wonwoo said, pulling back to look at you again. “I’ll stay with him and take care of everything tonight. You need sleep.”

But you shook your head, stubborn as always. “No, I can’t. I need to be here.”

Wonwoo sighed, but he didn’t push further. He knew better than to argue when you were this determined. Instead, he brought over a chair and sat beside you. That night, the two of you stayed awake together, taking turns checking Rayi’s temperature and watching his small chest rise and fall with each steady breath.

Every so often, Wonwoo would glance at you, catching the way your gaze softened as you looked at Rayi. In those moments, despite the exhaustion and worry, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude—for you, for Rayi, for the family you’d built together.

By the time the early morning light began creeping through the hospital curtains, you leaned your head against his shoulder, both of you too tired to talk but sharing an unspoken bond of love and determination. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.

*

The hospital room was quiet except for the soft hum of medical equipment. After two long days of watching over Rayi, exhaustion had overtaken you and Wonwoo. Neither of you had gone home since that night, surviving on restless naps on the small couch by Rayi's bedside. Wonwoo tried to stay alert, but his body betrayed him, slipping into moments of sleep. Every time he woke, guilt would gnaw at him as he saw you still wide awake, your eyes fixed on Rayi, your motherly instinct unwilling to rest.

That morning, as sunlight filtered through the window, Wonwoo stirred and glanced at you. You were slowly getting up from the couch, your movements unsteady. He sat up quickly, alarmed as you swayed slightly, your hand gripping the armrest for support.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. He moved to your side just as you nearly stumbled. Placing a hand on your forehead, his expression darkened. “You’re burning up. I think you have a fever.”

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, more annoyed with yourself than anything.

Wonwoo's hands gently cupped your face, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Please rest, babe. You’ve been running on fumes, and Rayi wouldn’t want to see his mom pushing herself too hard.” His voice was soft but firm, and the concern in his eyes made your chest tighten.

You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. His words hit too close to home, but you didn’t want to break down. Not now.

Unfortunately, your body didn’t give you much choice. By midday, your fever had worsened, leaving Wonwoo no option but to call his brother to watch over Rayi while he took you to the emergency room.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly as you laid on the hospital bed, waiting for the test result.

“No,” Wonwoo said, shaking his head, his tone gentle but resolute. “I’m sorry. You’re sick because you’ve been taking care of Rayi and pushing yourself beyond your limit. I should’ve been better at taking care of you too.” He reached out, softly patting your head in an attempt to comfort you.

Your head throbbed, and the dizziness didn’t help. You couldn’t help but think about Rayi and how frustrating it must have been for him to endure the same symptoms. “This headache... I think I know why Rayi was so upset,” you murmured faintly, earning a sad chuckle from Wonwoo.

“Still hurts?” he asked, his hand tightening around yours. You nodded weakly, and his expression crumbled. He hated feeling helpless, but right now, all he could do was stay by your side, offering silent support.

When the test results finally came back, the doctor informed you that you were dehydrated and your body was too run-down to fight off the fever. “We’ll need to keep you for observation,” the doctor said.

Wonwoo nodded, his grip on your hand steady. “Do whatever it takes to make her better,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

As the nurses prepared for your moving, he turned to you, brushing hair away from your face. “You’re going to rest now, okay? No arguments,” he whispered with a small, tired smile.

After hours of shuffling between emergency room and paperwork, Wonwoo finally managed to arrange for you and Rayi to share a private room. It was ironic, he thought, as he pushed the wheelchair carrying you to the room—both his loves were now patients, and he was playing the role of a full-time caregiver.

Rayi lay in his hospital bed, still hooked up to the IV, his tiny frame looking so much better than days ago under the blue blanket. You were wheeled to the second bed beside him, visibly exhausted but trying to stay strong.

Wonwoo helped you settle in, adjusting your pillow and tucking the blanket around you like you always did for Rayi. “There. Now I have both of you in my sight,” he said softly, sitting down between your beds with a sigh of relief.

You gave him a weak smile. “Not how I imagined our first family staycation.”

Wonwoo chuckled, though there was a hint of tiredness in his voice. “Yeah, I don’t think this is making it to our family scrapbook.” He reached out, holding your hand in one of his while keeping the other near Rayi’s bedside.

The days that followed were a blur of tending to both of you. Wonwoo quickly fell into a rhythm—feeding Rayi when he woke up crying, gently wiping your face with a cool cloth to keep your fever down, and running back and forth to fetch food or talk to doctors.

At one point, as you watched him juggling everything, you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re really something, Jeon Wonwoo. I didn’t think you had it in you to manage two patients.”

He looked at you, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he smiled back. “Turns out I’m pretty good at this dad-and-husband thing. But don’t get any ideas about a repeat performance.”

“Noted,” you said, laughing softly.

Rayi started to recover quickly, his fever subsiding by the second day. You could see him regaining his usual cheerfulness, even managing to giggle when Wonwoo made silly faces. But that didn’t stop Wonwoo from being extra cautious, checking on both of you every few minutes.

One evening, when Rayi was sound asleep, you watched Wonwoo nodding off in the chair between the two of you, his head tilted awkwardly. “Wonwoo,” you whispered, shaking his hand gently.

“Hm?” He jolted awake, rubbing his eyes and looking around.

“Go to the couch and sleep,” you said softly.

He shook his head. “I’m fine here. What if one of you needs me?”

You smiled, your heart swelling with gratitude. “We’re okay, Wonwoo. You’ve done so much already. Please rest.”

Reluctantly, he agreed, dragging himself to the small couch in the corner. As he lay there, his head resting on a folded jacket, he thought about how much this experience had changed him. He wasn’t just a husband or a dad anymore—he was part of a team, a family that needed him, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

As you drifted off to sleep, with Rayi’s soft breathing filling the room, you glanced at Wonwoo one last time. Despite his exhaustion, there was a peaceful smile on his face, and you knew that in his quiet, unwavering way, he would always take care of both of you.

*

After six long days at the hospital, the "family staycation" was finally over. Wonwoo drove the three of you home, the car filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by Rayi's babbles from the backseat. The little boy had been released two days earlier, and during that time, Wonwoo had asked his parents to take care of him so you could recover without any distractions. Now, as the car pulled into the driveway, Rayi was buzzing with excitement to be home again—and to be with you.

The moment you stepped inside, Rayi nearly leaped into Wonwoo's arms, squealing with delight. “He really missed us,” Wonwoo said, his voice soft with affection.

“I think he missed the house more,” you teased as Rayi wiggled to be put down. The instant his feet touched the floor, he zoomed off on his walker, embarking on a grand tour of the house.

Wonwoo chuckled as he picked up the bags, watching Rayi disappear into the kitchen. “Guess he’s making sure everything’s still here.”

Meanwhile, you sank into the couch with a relieved sigh. Days of lying in a hospital bed had made you sluggish, and even standing for more than a few minutes felt like an Olympic feat. As much as you wanted to jump back into your routine, your body begged for more rest.

Wonwoo joined you on the couch, plopping down beside you with a contented groan. Together, you watched Rayi race around, his walker creating an amusing squeak with every step as he stopped to admire his favorite show playing on the TV.

“You know what…” Wonwoo said suddenly, his voice thoughtful.

“Hm?” you hummed, turning to him.

“The most cliché thing that would happen now is me falling sick,” he joked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as though imagining the scenario.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You? No way. You’re strong. You won’t get sick.”

He nodded, pretending to agree, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed his skepticism. “Let’s hope you’re right,” he said with a grin.

But hope wasn’t enough.

A few days later, the doorbell rang, and you were greeted by a pile of fruit baskets and home-cooked meals from Wonwoo’s bandmates. Word had gotten out that Wonwoo had come down with a fever and couldn’t make it to the schedule.

You peeked into the living room where Wonwoo lay sprawled out on the couch, bundled in a blanket with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. He groaned dramatically when he saw you holding the care packages.

“I told you it was going to happen,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the blanket.

You stifled a laugh as you set the baskets down. “Guess you’re not as strong as I thought.”

“Hey, I fought off a virus and took care of two patients for a week,” he said, sitting up slightly to defend himself. “I deserve some slack.”

“You do,” you agreed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Now let me take care of you for a change.”

From the corner, Rayi giggled, pointing at his dad bundled up like a burrito. “Appa funny!” he chirped, and you couldn’t help but laugh along.

Despite his fever, Wonwoo smiled. Even in his weakened state, he knew moments like these were what made being a parent and a husband so worth it.

[zhongrin]

honey, can you.… commit a crime for me?

© zhongrin | 2024  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc, al haitham, tighnari, wriothesley, neuvillette

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff

✼ a/n ┈ what even are these hsdlkfjlskjdf kinda wanna create a yandere version of this /is bonked

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

zhongli immediately tries to find the core of the problem. “what is it that troubles you, dearest? perhaps we can find a more peaceful solution? violence is not always the answer. this, i know from all the 6000 years i’ve lived—” aaaand there he goes on his lecture. if your goal was to get him to give you a preaching of a lifetime, well, congratulations, you’ve done it. sit back and relax, brew some tea, maybe get some snacks, because you’ll be here for a while.

al haitham, surprisingly, actually humors you. only because he knows you were teasing him and this is his way of teasing you back, but you’ll probably end up staring at him in confusion because he looks dead serious while doing so. “what an interesting offer. i’ll have to ask you to submit a formal proposal through your special submission channel. make sure you have several backup plans in case of emergencies. have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, the latest.”

wriothesley straight up denies you with a roll of his eyes. he knows you’re joking, and honestly speaking he would stain his hands with blood for you, but as much as he loves you, he really didn’t want you to end up at the fortress while under a sentence. although theoretically he could pull some strings to make sure you spent your sentence peacefully if that scenario ever happened, the fact was that such records will follow you for the rest of your life, and he wants you to stay in the sunlight. “what did i always tell you? don’t break the law... but if you really want to, how about you try to steal my breath away with a kiss?”

neuvillette stops writing his reports immediately, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “my dear, come sit, let us converse.” he holds your hand and proceeds to rope you into a heart-to-heart talk. are you being harassed by someone? are you being threatened? the cup of water rippled erratically as he waited for you to answer those particular questions. is there something he could do to help that wouldn’t make either of you getting dragged into a court trial? can he— …. yeah, someone save him, he totally thinks that you’re serious.

childe agrees immediately. is that even a question? “sure! who do you need me to kill?” he asks, with his signature wide boyish grin plastered onto his face and his hand twitching to reach for his hydro blade. look. it’s your ajax. your (man)childe. your tartaglia. i bet you liked his murderous tendencies anyway. are you even surprised?

kaeya makes it a point to gasp and looking like a maiden who caught the sight of two lovers rendezvousing in the garden. when he notices you not buying his act, however, he laughs and switches gear into a teasing smile, “oh? was me stealing your heart not enough?”

diluc stares at you blankly, one eyebrow raised, his voice monotonous — if you hadn’t known how to read his minuscule reactions, you would have missed the spark of mirth dancing in his eyes; a trace of the young ‘luc buried deep inside the scarred heart of a charred phoenix, “…. hmph. did kaeya put you up to this?”

tighnari hums nonchalantly and gives you a knowing smirk, his tail swishing mischievously behind him, “perfect. i do have a rare specimen i’d like to plant. i’m sure it’ll benefit well from the nutrients it’ll absorb from your victim. so, where did you put the body?”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 6 - Round Two. Fight!

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Damn. Your indulgent TV stalking of the Wayne’s really doesn’t hit the same once you technically knew them. And you were hiding inside one of their bedrooms, inside one of their clothes, using their TV subscription. It just didn’t feel right. Morally, of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about. No, you were just pissy your favourite pastime was basically ruined. You shovel another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth, glaring through tired eyes at the screen.

There’s an up-close shot of Dick Grayson’s abs. The presenter ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over his physical form, and you have to agree. You wish you had abs like that. Unfortunately, you did respond to most unwanted experiences with stress eating. As always with these celebrity figures, you can’t really tell if you want to be Dick or be with Dick. Your butt is nowhere near the level his is at.

While you hadn’t really set out today looking for shirtless pictures of the Waynes, it wasn’t like you were going to say no to them. So, when the gossip channel had switched from the reactions of the Waynes to last night’s fiasco to… this… you’d just kept watching.

You wonder if you should stop doing this. It’s definitely kind of creepy, and now you’d technically once been his… step-sister. What a mind fuck. You’ve been crushing on these dudes for a while, and now they were your ex-step siblings. This was like the start of a bad porno, but you knew you were not that lucky. And it wasn’t like you were going to start thinking of him as a brother any time soon. You hadn’t even met the guy. No, he was still firmly in the ‘celebrity crush’ section of your mind. Pretty and untouchable. The way things are supposed to be.

Which was also bad because you would probably have to meet and interact with him at some point. Probably in the near future. God knows you’d absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the fucking Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,. Twice, in fact. You didn’t even want to think about the display you’d shown for Bruce Wayne or Damian Wayne.

You didn’t really know what to do with your slightly obsessive crushes. And you could see it definitely being a problem in the near future.

…You decide that what you do in your private time is absolutely nobody but your business, and keep watching. It’s a mix of bitter spite and genuine mental breakdown levels of desperation that leads you to that decision. You feel like you’re a child with their toy being taken away, and it’s making you mad. And sad too. Even if you shouldn’t do this anymore, you still want to keep the habit. You’d mentioned before your creature comforts were one of the few things that kept you going. And while you were mostly very good at not being the jealous, heinous creature you really are, you knew you wouldn’t be giving this up.

They’d have to tear your gossip channels from your cold dead palms. You weren’t giving them up, not without a fight at least. Unfortunately for you, the universe seemed determined to wrestle away literally everything you loved.

Guilt’s for tomorrow. Today is for ice cream and purposefully ignoring everything. Speaking of which, you can not remember the last time you had a good Ben & Jerry’s. They were so expensive these days, as all groceries were. You simply couldn’t afford it. The Waynes, of course, had multiple tubs in multiple different options. Alfred had seemed delighted that you’d taken the ice cream, for which reasons you could not perceive.

Oh, yeah! His name was Alfred. Very butler-y. You’d remember it this time, he was a very nice man. And he called you ‘young miss’ which earned him points. He also didn’t seem to hate you on sight or treat you like a two-headed freak, like some of the other people in this household. Not naming names. Yeah, fuck that noise, Damian Wayne obviously has issues and it’s much less attractive in real life.

The woman drones on, and your eyes flick to your phone. Yup, she’s still yapping. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Dick’s abs or anything, it’s just that you think she might’ve been talking about this one specific photo for over half an hour now. Lady should get a hobby. Wait, wait, this is her job. Maybe you should start a podcast where you rant about the Wayne’s exercise regimes. It seems to be quite a lucrative field.

You shriek when the door slams open, nearly tumbling backwards off the bed. Hands manage to grip the bedcovers before you tip over, not making a complete fool of yourself. As it goes, you lose your spoon to the carpet. Bits of cookie dough spread over the floor in a divine sacrifice. And you lose your sanity to the man standing in the doorway. To be fair, he looks just as confused as you feel.

You blink at the physically perfect form of Dick Grayson and then turn your head to the TV to look at the other physically perfect form of Dick Grayson.

…You really wish you had a good explanation for this.

He mutters out your name, lips parted. Dick Grayson seems absolutely shocked to find you here. His eyes flick around the room and eventually land on the TV. Said baby blues widen to the size of saucers when the reporter makes a really, really unnecessary comment.

“And in news that broke the hearts of both ladies and gentlemen everywhere in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson has announced he will be returning to Gotham to assist his family in this difficult time. My cousin in the Blud is probably crying right now. There’s no ass out there quite like his, and there’s no replacement for Bludhaven’s favourite young rich bachelor,” she winks at the camera, and then the shot of his toned stomach phases forward to take up the entire screen.

Well, there’s a lot to say about that. First of all, fuck. Second of all, shit. Third of all, she really couldn’t have said that part about Dick coming back to Gotham sooner? Perchance, before you’d found yourself in this situation?

You said you weren’t that lucky, you meant it.

“But still, ain’t that lucky for us Gothamites? I myself have spent a lot of time on Dick’s Tiktok and Instagram, and his acrobatic videos have been used in a lot of my personal-”

You snatch the remote from the sheets and pause it right there. The silence is tense. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares at you. Completely stunned, mouth-catching flies. You want to pull the covers up and hide under them, but you don’t think that’d make him leave.

“I couldn’t find my room,” you finally manage to say. It’s the worst excuse you’ve ever heard, sounds like a complete lie. And yet, unfortunately, it is the truth.

Dick’s eyes drift to the TV, which you still haven’t unpaused. You can’t tell if it would be worth it, just to get rid of his golden brown abs staring at you judgementally, even if you’d have to deal with the extra embarrassment of the dialogue over them. Maybe if you muted the TV? It wouldn’t make up for the insult of his paparazzi photos on a widescreen.

It takes you even longer to come up with an excuse for… that.

“I was checking the news about last night,” you continue, the panic in you rising like a tea kettle left on the stove for too long. You might start shrieking like one too.

You don’t think he believes you. He looks down at the Beatles shirt you’re wearing. You know what he’s going to say before he does, but you still dread it.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” he mutters, his voice awed.

You want to say, ‘Nooo! No, no, no! Don’t do this to me, damn it! Not anymore! No more, please! It’s enough, enough suffering! This is genuinely ridiculous, damn you!’ but instead you reply with a shaky, “…Didn’t have any of mine.”

Also, you’ve been huffing Eau de Dick Grayson? That’s definitely in character for you. You want to beat your own head in with a stick.

“And I couldn’t find my room, and uh, thought this one wasn’t being used,” you continue, daring a glance back at him. He still looks completely stumped.

“It wasn’t,” he answers, but it sounds like he’s a thousand miles away.

You know, Dick Grayson was supposed to be a lot more charming than this. You’re almost proud you managed to stun the man into near speechlessness. Almost, almost. Almost not going to kill yourself once he leaves.

If he leaves. He doesn’t look like he’s getting up. You eye the gap between you and the door. Your animal brain is telling you to just run for it. But Dick has Olympic level athletics, and you don’t doubt he could catch you if you ran. Would he try though? That’s the deciding factor here.

He doesn’t seem like he’s actually going to fucking do anything though. He just keeps staring, like if he looks for long enough, it’ll all start to make sense. Which, you wish.

“Do you know where my room is? I couldn’t… remember…”

He nods, instead staring at his own abs on the TV.

“Can you take me to my room?”

He nods again. Still doesn’t look back at you.

“…Mr. Grayson?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. ‘You’ wouldn’t have used his last name, even though you might’ve. ‘You’ had been a casual person, as far as you could tell. That was the kindest way you could say it, at least.

His head snaps to you. He somehow looks more confused. You wonder if you should pinch him or something, god knows you’ve done your fair share of pinching yourself recently.

“Yes, right, sorry. Let’s… go,” he gives you a cheery smile, shaking his head, but it seems quite strained. You’re probably matching. This is the most humiliating moment of your life, and of course, it’s with the most beautiful man on earth right beside you.

A break. You want a break.

The two of you quietly shuffle out of the room, and when he guides you forward, you follow him obediently. Your head naturally bows, shame making it hard to look at him. You stare at the wooden floors as you walk. Watching it shine in the morning light that filters through the windows.

Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of a door that has obviously been avoided. Though it’s as clean as every other inch of this house, there are no marks in the rug from the door opening and closing. And even then, it seems… well, it sounds silly, but the door seems sad to you. Too many things seem sad to you these days.

Your thoughts must show on your face because Dick clears his throat and gives you a worried look. Is it rude to say you’re sick of those sorts of looks? That they just make you feel sick and burdened these days? It’s not like you could bring your family back from the dead, or convince your cheating boyfriend to not be a piece of shit. It was out of your hands.

“…Are you alright?” he asks you, blue eyes sincere. You tilt your head to the side.

“No?” you say, but it sounds more like a question. No, you are not alright. Yes, you will be okay. It’s the only option. It’s one of your rules. You have to be okay. You just have to.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost laugh.

“No,” this time your voice is firm, confident. Dick seems like he’s going to push it, but something in your eyes makes him stop. You give him a forced smile and say goodbye, closing the door gently in his face. Once you do, you crouch down and once again, press your face to your knees. Then you press your hands to your mouth and let out a scream that had been bubbling up for a while. After that, you feel you can live with the humiliation that is your existence without jumping out the three-story-height window.

You stand up, turning to the room. The first thing you notice about it is that there’s dust in here. Same as Dick’s old room. Now that you think about it, Alfred doesn’t seem the type who’d randomly leave certain rooms uncleaned, so it must be something he does out of respect for the tenants of Wayne Manor. Or maybe the old you requested it? God knows.

Sitting down on the old bed, your eyes rove around the room. It’s well decorated, as the rest of the manor is, but you can’t see anything that would make it your room. There’s none of the novels you’d collected from the used books store, no dorky little items you impulse bought, no pictures of your family. The apartment hadn’t had those either.

‘You’- she- seemed like a ghost to you. While you’d often felt like you’d barely been alive, simply going through the motions, this girl seemed like she hadn’t even been conscious half the time she was doing it. It made your stomach swim, your face pulls taught.

While you’d had few things holding you afloat, it’d been enough to keep you alive. Molly, your co-workers, the need to work so as to not starve to death. She hadn’t had anything like that. No liferaft. You’d been sputtering and gasping your way through life, and she’d been drowning. Maybe already dead, at the bottom of the sea, hair tangling with the seaweed.

This room feels like a coffin, and this manor like a cemetery. It makes you physically sick.

Showing off your fickle-mindedness, you realise that despite this being the Wayne manor filled with all your idols, you actually don’t want to fucking be here. You need space to clear your head, and the creaking floorboards that echo down the creepy hallways just don’t offer that. The atmosphere at your too-modern, too-minimalist apartment is leagues better than the atmosphere at this gorgeous old house which you’d usually love spending hours getting lost in.

Usually. Unfortunately, this place was more suffocating than the workplace when you knew you were about to get fired again. And you weren’t getting paid to stay here, so why the fuck would you?

Once you realise you’ve decided to run, you’re quick to pack up your shit. There’s not much in the room you need. A pair of sneakers, because you would rather die than put those heels on again. And you’ll grab some shirts because they’re comfy and remind you of home. Hopefully, it’ll make everything… grate… a little less. All of this is thrown in an old ratty backpack, which is then tossed over your shoulder. Shoes slipped on, and tapped against the floor so they’re on comfortably. And then you’re ready. Ready as you’ll ever be. With one hand on your phone, you take a peek outside the door. Coast is clear.

You press call for ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’. Jeanine picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, Jeanine Ryans here,” she says, her voice all business.

“Jeanine, I need an evac, stat,” you whisper to her, creeping down the hallway of the manor. The floor is unbelievably creeky, so it’s pretty fucking difficult to be stealthy about it.

“…What?”

“Get me out of this fucking manor, please,” you beg, now going down the stairs. Almost out, almost out.

“Right, on it. I’ll have a car outside in ten minutes if that’s alright?” Jeanine replies, immediately on the case. It almost makes you cry. You know she’s being paid for this, and very desperate for the job for some reason, but it’s still a hail mary that you are so grateful for.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you say, turning a corner and-

Oh, fuck. Damian Wayne glares down at you, green eyes cataloguing every single guilty piece of you in existence. He sees your hand tighten around your backpack, hears Jeanine telling you not to worry through your phone, and probably notices the way your eyes desperately flicker behind him to the door. To your goal, to the exit to this labyrinth.

You can practically hear the wind blowing, see the tumbleweed drift by.

And then, he moves past you, twisting his body so no part of it touches you. There’s a moment where your brain freezes, something spicy smelling (cinnamon, maybe?) flowing past you, and by the time you turn around, he’s gone. Your deer-in-headlights tensed-shoulders look falls, leaving you confused in the foyer. He didn’t even say a word to you. You felt like you just got passed over by a boss from a Dark Souls game.

…Well, you’ll take the wins where you can find them! Quickly, you hurry out the front door, skittering down the steps like some sort of rat. It’s a long walk to the gates, and you don’t really know how to open them to let the car in, so you decide to take your time and enjoy the walk. The early morning dew apon the clean-cut blades of grass glint and sparkle, the gravel on the road crunches under your technically-not-stolen sneakers, and even if it’s a miserable life, it’s a pretty day. From the hill the manor lives upon, you can see Gotham’s tall skyline, cloaked in its characteristic fog.

Eventually, you find yourself in front of the gate, where you can see Jeanine waiting with a black car on the otherside. There’s a big green button next to the side gate, which you press, and it clicks open. There’s a moment where your neck tingles, and you glance up at the camera pointed down at you. The red flickering light beside it holds your attention. You can see your bedraggled reflection in its lense.

Shaking your head, you move on, greeting Jeanine. She gives you a quick bow of the head and opens the door for you. You hike the bag over your shoulder, give the Wayne manor one final, lingering look and then you step into the car. Jeanine starts speaking to you about some future appointments you have, and you’re too tired to understand a word of what she says. She realises you’re not processing anything she says, and hands you a pair of headphones with a wire adapter.

You could kiss her right then and there. You don’t because that’d be weird, but you definitely think about it. Headphones on, you watch the rolling hills and luxurious manors turn into highways and honking traffic, to finally the upside part of town which was now apparently where you lived.

Eventually you find yourself being delivered in front of your swanky new apartment. With a passing goodbye, Jeanine tells you that she’ll be busy for the rest fo the day so if you need anything to call the number on the card she hands you. You tuck it in your pocket, certain you’ll lose it like every other business card you’ve ever been handed.

The elevator ride up to your room is contemplative. The music is boring, your reflection is bedraggled and tired, and the gentle feeling of gravity under your feet tugs at you. You rock slightly when you finally reach your floor. The doors open, but you don’t make any move to leave. They shut again, and you’re left staring daggers at your mirrored self.

You’d woken up, still here. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality. And more than that, it seemed more and more like you’d be staying in this reality. You didn’t think you could go home. Sure you were rich but… but your home. Your few things you’d managed to save. Your meagre group of friends and your hard-sought job. It made you nauseous. Where had you lost it all? Why were you here now? Why did you keep having to lose everything?

You manage to snap yourself out of it before someone else calls the elevator. Striding out of the space, you look to the right where you remember your apartment coming from. It’s not hard to find the unit, as there are only three on the entire floor. Rich people.

The door closes with a satisfying thud behind you, and you nearly melt with exhaustion.

This apartment is the ninth circle of hell for you. Scrambling around on your knees, you’re desperate to find the damn phone that won’t stop ringing. You can’t understand where the sound is coming from.

Under your bed? You shine your other’s phone’s light under it. Nope. Behind the dresser? Nada. You search inside the drawers and then peek inside the fancy lamp. Absolutely nothing. You’re ready to tear your hair out when you spot something… odd.

There’s… You think there’s something stuck in your floorboards. You dig at the space with your fingernails and the piece of wood pops open. Inside is… a cardboard box. An awfully familiar cardboard box, actually. The sight of your Mum’s old keepsake box makes you cry out with joy, lifting it from its little enclave. You’d lost a lot in the past few days but at least the old you knew how to keep your family’s stuff safe.

This apartment looks brand new. And apparently the past you dug into it to hide her stuff. You can’t really judge, you have a hidey-hole back at your apartment. It was a brick that had already been loose in the wall, so it didn’t feel quite as criminal as this.

The ringing is coming from inside the box. When you pull the lid up, you find a keepsake box a little different from yours. While yours only ever had your family’s old passports and photo albums, this one had a sleek phone sitting on top of all the mementos. It’s an exact copy of the phone on your bed- or well, it would be, if you hadn’t dropped it.

Two phones? This bitch was greedy. And so are you, eagerly sweeping the expensive item into your gremlin hands. Your thieving high is instantly quashed when you see who’s calling.

Of all fucking… George.

You roll your eyes before hanging up, tossing the phone to the side as you start rifling through the old keepsake box. You flip through family photo albums and lovingly cradle old stuffies. The phone buzzes. You ignore it. You find one of your mother’s old necklaces, and because you’re desperate for anything that can ground you, slip it over your head. The cool heart locket rests just under your collarbone, and you clutch it with one hand as you keep exploring. The phone keeps buzzing. It’s only almost half an hour later when you realise something about this is strange.

Why is George… not blocked? You glance down at the vibrating object like it’s radioactive, a despairing frown pulling at your face. Cautiously, you pick it up, making sure not to open the notifications lest it tell George you read any of his messages.

He’s… apologising for not being there for your birthday. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. And it’s not even a proper apology, it’s one of those ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings’ bullcrap. He keeps spamming you, and eventually, you realise that he’s not going to just stop.

You decide to nip this in the bud quickly because even remembering his cheating face makes you feel like throwing up.

‘You’: Why are you contacting me?

‘George <3’: Seriously? Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I was busy, you know that.

Stupidly, you reply:

‘You’: ‘No, seriously, why are you contacting me? I’m done with you.’

You wonder how you ever loved this jackass. Even if he was obviously more of a jackass here, than where you’d come from. He was just better at pretending there. You keep scrolling, ignoring the new texts that pop up. Your stomach sours at the number of texts he himself had ignored, of the amount of ‘sorry baby, can’t come tonight’, the begging, the pleading.

No, he wasn’t worse at pretending. He just didn’t care.

You wonder if this could have been you, further along down the line. Abuse happens slowly, right? Like a frog in a pot. You’d have forgiven and forgotten, written away his worse behaviours till you couldn’t anymore. Till you couldn’t leave, till you were trapped.

You think George Lancaster would’ve tried to. He would’ve isolated you from everyone you had left if he hadn’t screwed up and got caught.

You realise now there were a lot of red flags in your relationship with George. Molly always hated him and he hated her. He’d constantly complain about how much time you spent with her, spamming you with texts when you went out.

You were only… only two days since you’d actually broken up with him. Which was sort of crazy to think about. You feel like you’ve lived eons since then. Like that one traumatic incident aged you thirty years. Anyway, you still hadn’t processed the whole George thing. You’d been sort of busy fighting for your life.

‘George’: I’m here, can you at least open the door so we can talk face to face?

Freeze. A knock sounds, and your head snaps up to the front door. You don’t move. You just wish it away. The knocking only gets louder and louder.

You feel like a dumb girl in a horror movie as you walk towards the door, unlocking it and creaking the knob open. George Lancaster stands on the other side, and before you can slam it in his face, he grabs you by the arm and yanks you out of the door. And then he’s pulling you to the elevator, even as you try and get your bearings, get yourself away from him.

“You can’t just ignore me like this,” George says, pissed off to high hell, “We’re going to miss the reservation I booked specifically for you. I told you it was happening today and-”

There’s white noise between your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Told you? It wasn’t in any of the texts. He’s still talking even as the elevator dings, even as he shoves you in a white sports car that’s half parked on the curb. Even as he drives his way through Gotham’s streets, he won’t fucking shut up.

Why are you letting this happen to you? Why aren't you fighting back, wrenching yourself from his grasp? He takes you into a restaurant, one so upscale that normally you wouldn’t be able to get in for months, and your head snaps from staring socialites to watching politicians to gawking celebrities. You have the eyes of the world on you right now, and they’re all watching George yell at you.

And you can’t find your voice.

It's like a scab you can't stop picking at. Like you think this is what you deserve or something. And it's not. You know it's not. And yet you follow obediently, chastised and embarrassed, as he pulls you through the restaurant. When he picks a table in the centre of the room, you don’t protest. When he chooses your meal for you, even though it’s not to your taste, you don’t protest.

Looking at George, scrolling lazily on his phone, your hands clench against the table. They’re sweating, shaking, nails digging into your palms.

You… you didn’t have to break up with him again, did you? You realised it earlier, but you didn’t- it didn’t really sink in. Your first breakup with George Lancaster was a miserable traumatic experience, and it had been in the solitary streets of Gotham’s Narrows. This one, this one would be seen by literally everyone.

Nauseous. You feel so damn nauseous, your mouth dry as you swallow down bile. This was ridiculous. You couldn’t stand seeing his face. Was he texting her right now? God, did she even know? You’d just stormed out that night, running from what you’d seen.

George had chased after you. Had he left her there? Your stomach churned at the idea. You had to hate her on principle but, well, you also had to sympathise with her. Contradictions, that was the average you. You didn’t want to help this random girl. Didn’t want to have to ever think of her again.

…Staring at George, a definitively awful person, you can’t do it. Can’t just leave her to it.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you say.

“What?” George replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“I’m breaking up with you!” you shout. It’s not even intentional, just a result of being pushed too far, of breaking too easily.

The restaurant goes quiet. Guess you’re up for another scandal then. Whatever, it wasn’t like you would’ve lasted much longer anyway. This was all too complicated for your recently traumatised mind to handle. And it was just too damn stupid to bother with anyway. All of this was fucking stupid.

You included.

Just pull the bandaid off, right? You could already see how this version of you had so many scandals to her name. You probably should start giving a shit. Or at least trying to. You don’t think you want to, though.

George puts his phone down face down on the tablecloth, giving you a calm look. That slightly pitying stare activates something in your brain you didn’t really know was there. It’s a type of rage you haven’t known since you were a kindergartner and one of the other girls said you couldn’t play princesses. Since your first service job where your manager felt you up. Just pure, petty, anger. The type of anger ready to burn the world down as long as it burns whoever pissed you off as well. He opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, and your hand whips out and snatches his phone.

“Hey!” George says instead, his eyes widening.

You turn the phone back on. Hm, passcode. You flip it around and use facial recognition to open it. Despite the fact that George wears the most comically shocked expression, with saucer-wide eyes and a mouth open to catch flies, it unlocks. Nice.

“Hey! What are you doing?” George demands, reaching over the table for his phone.

You twist away from his reach. Password. You flip the phone, and despite George’s comically shocked expression, it still unlocks. He shouts again when it does, probably realising that you might be taking this seriously. That he might actually be in trouble. That his sugar mummy might not take too kindly to the numerous texts to other women on his phone.

…You really can’t believe you’re a sugar mummy. And for George of all people. What a horrendous waste of money, it’s fucking tragic.

He’s got the texts with someone known as ‘Pizza Hut’ pulled up, with some very flirtatious messages. You scroll up furiously, ducking under George as he gets up from the table and tries to get the phone. Still, backing up, the sight of a very poorly shot dick pic of George’s has you grimacing. Your focus on the picture, trying to decide whether his penis looked so unappealing before you’d learnt of his betrayal, has you distracted when one of the servers come around.

And, well, shirt, meet soup. Very, very hot soup. Everyone? Meet a screeching, klutzy moron.

George takes the chance to advance on you, snatching his phone from you. He doesn’t even seem to care you’re currently getting third-degree burns. The sting scorches through the thin fabric of your dress shirt, burning your skin. George grabs you again, his grip harsh enough this time you know it will bruise, and you can’t really say why you do what you do at that moment.

Your aunt used to have a chihuahua. It was an ugly, grumpy thing. She’d rescued it late into its life, and it had been treated poorly beforehand. It didn’t like to be touched at all and used to run from anyone who tried. And if you tried to touch it? Cornered it?

Well, of course, it started biting.

George’s howl is the most satisfying thing you’ve ever heard. His squeal of “bitch!” might be even more so. He slaps you away from him, and the sound echoes in the restaurant. Your face stings. When you land ass first in the puddle of still-too-hot soup, you wonder if you might try and bite him again. You don’t think you even broke the skin, considering you can’t taste blood. The other patrons stare on in genuine horror, like they’ve never seen a messy breakup before. One woman raises a hand to her mouth, and gasps-

You find yourself staring up at a furious George, one with a menace in his eyes you’ve never seen before. You wonder, idly, if he’s ever hit you before. Well, not you, but ‘you’. You realise now that he has the capacity for it, that he probably always did.

“What the fuck!?” he hisses, angry eyes darting from side to side, “Biting me?! In fucking public?! Have you lost it, you crazy bitch?! And you got my phone fucking soaked in soup!”

“Did you buy it?” you ask, wiping your mouth with your sleeve to get George’s dirty taste out of your mouth.

He blinks, confused, thrown off by your question, “Huh?”

“Did you buy that phone?” you repeat, your staring starting to turn into a furious glare.

You don’t think he did. Your George had never been able to afford those sorts of things, he’d been as broke as you were. Of course, you’d seen him lust over those items, but you’d always managed to convince him not to go into debt over silly things like sports cars and fancy phones. And even then, you’d been the one to buy him a PS5.

He looks down at the phone and back at you, and you can see his jaw tick.

“I bought it. That’s mine.”

“It was a gift. You’re going to be such a bitter bitch to take back everything you gave me? Gonna leave me out on the fucking street?” he says, spittle flying with angry words.

This was escalating fast. Maybe before you’d have been cowed by his words, but you were genuinely off your rocker by now and were very much willing to tango with this bastard. Like yes, he did terrify you, but so did everything else. You could handle this much at least. You weren’t ready to back down.

“And if I did? What then George? What could you even fucking do?” you throw back, voice rising to match his.

“It’s not your money either, it’s theirs, you little leech!” says the pot.

“Does it matter?” replies the kettle.

Pushing to your feet, you find George without another answer. He stands between you and the exit. With the plain murderous rage on his face, you think he’ll try to grab you again if you run past. He wouldn’t bite you back, but he might slap you or something. So instead, like any good coward does, you run straight to the girl’s bathroom. It hasn’t failed you yet, and you doubt it will today.

You shove into the bathroom, past a woman doing her makeup. Her head bobs up and down as she takes in your seemingly infamous face, and your stained shirt. You stride as far away from her as possible, darting into the last bathroom stall and sitting on the closed toilet lid. You pull your knees to your chest and hiss out a sound of frustration when that presses the sticky liquid against your chest and pants. Not your brightest idea, but you were sort of running on fumes right now.

The bathroom stall is extremely clean. One thing you were quickly realising about rich people is they didn’t have to suffer shitty public bathrooms. You didn’t think they deserved it. Like customer service jobs, and traffic, they built character.

What were you doing? Right, trying not to cry. You’re doing much better than yesterday. Still, sitting on top of the toilet’s closed lid, your phone pressed to your face, you wouldn’t say you’re doing ‘good’.

But because you knew George was too much of a pussy to ever enter the woman’s bathrooms, you refuse to move a single inch. You don’t want to go out there. At all. At all, at all. You’d tried to call Jeanine, but she hadn’t answered. Some P.A. she was. You still weren’t going to fire her. Then you remember that she told you she was going out later, and that she’d left a card with you. Digging through your pocket, you decide it’s finally time to die when you realise you lost the card somewhere along the line.

So, she wasn’t going to come save you as your knight in shining armour.

You can’t remember Molly’s number. Who did these days? That was your phone’s job. So you were left with… this. You were left with this. Four blocked numbers and a third had sent an automatic reply because he was driving. Alfred was probably busy. Weren’t butlers always very busy?

…Rich people weren’t often very busy. They had butlers and assistants to do all their chores. You unblock all four of the Waynes that you have on your phone.

The first thing you notice is the amount of texts between ‘you’ and Dick. Scrolling and scrolling, you find most of them are him checking up on you and one-word replies from the old you. He’s friendly and accepting, even when you respond in cruel and aggressive tones. The further back you scroll, the kinder your replies are. At one point it seems like the two of you had a good relationship.

You check the other chats. Tim’s message log is filled with coffee requests sent back and forth between you, Damian’s is completely empty, and Bruce’s has had no response from your phone in years. But eventually, you scroll back far enough that you find an actual conversation instead of just ‘Call Alfred’ repeated every few days.

‘You’: I miss them.

‘Bruce Wayne’: I know. I miss them too.

You press the back button, sighing. That felt like you’d seen something you shouldn’t have, like you’d peeked into someone’s diary. Which was unbelievably stupid. All of this is unbelievably stupid. You should just leave, you should just be brave. Two days ago you faced off against one of your worst fears, but today you couldn’t even handle George Lancaster.

You want someone to rescue you. You know no one will unless you ask. It makes you choke on your own self-disgust. This is the second time in one day. God, maybe you should just do it yourself. It’s not like you couldn’t pay for your own Uber.

And still, you find yourself clicking on a name and begging. Skin crawling, you type and retype the text probably a hundred times. You go from long apologies to begging to rants you never intended to send in the first place. Tap, tap, tap, and then you delete, delete, delete.

What you settle on is simple.

‘You’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

Maybe a bit too simple. You cross your arms and tuck yourself in the good ol’ fetal position. You feel like you’ve spent half your time holding yourself like this the past three days.

‘Dick Grayson’: I’ll be there in five.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[fishnapple]

Channelled message: The moment they fall in love with you

(lover/partner/future spouse)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. Carnelian

I have to admit that I look like a human being but sometimes I feel like an oyster. I wish I could have their shell, hiding myself behind a sturdy, protective barrier that no one can touch me. I would feel invincible in my weakness, in the darkness that my shell provided, taking a peek only now and then. You must be getting tired of this hide and seek game that I subjected you to, to be an unwilling gamer.

But even then, you excelled at that game, just like in everything you do. How did you beat the game? You ignored the rules, of course. You didn't let me hide, and what is there to be sought if there was no hiding.

You were a magician, transformed the most dire thing into the most hopeful thing. A magician with an X-ray machine, you peered into my inner most thoughts and feelings without opening my shell.

I felt scared and rage at first, who are you to dare to do that to me? I flipped out, of course, natural reaction of someone who had been in hiding for who knows how long. I got angry, I shouted, I cried, I held my breath, and I looked at you, begging you to stop seeing me, knowing me, accepting me. I must look like a clown to you back then.

But you just smiled. A triumphant smile, the smile that someone has after searching for something for so long and finally found it. I could feel you saying this to me: "I'm not an oyster and I'm not the kind to fall in love with an oyster, stop role-playing and sit with me side by side."

And that was how I turned into a proper human and learnt to love properly. Before, it felt like I was a story teller, someone looking from afar, at a safe distance, through the telescope, peered into life. I saw myself being with you, but I didn't really know the me who was being with you, how did they feel. And you reached out your hand, pulled the telescope aside, let me become the one that I had been watching all along and let me feel what they had felt.

I want to confess, sometimes I couldn't shake this dissociated feeling about everything. Sometimes, it feels like I was dangling between two worlds. But I have something new with me, a hope, a faith, that you would be there for me at that time, pull me back to you or accompany me in whatever that world I'm in.

Note: The moment your person falls in love with you would be when they feel seen by you, for all their light and darkness, the beautiful and the ugly parts of them. They're scared of this feeling, it makes them vulnerable. You unmask them, make them come out of their shell and be their real self, no more hiding. The way you do it is gentle and considerate, but the feeling they have will be devastating. They probably are someone who is more detached and isn't too involved with everything for fear of getting hurt. But after falling in love with you, even though the feeling of detachment about the world sometimes still lingers but they will also have the faith that there's someone who can see and understand them, who they can just be and come closer.

2. Aventurine

Sometimes, I feel like a bottle floating in this vast ocean of life. People around me, they seem to float right past me. If I could find a companion, then they would just stay for a fleeting moment and then ready to move on, leaving me behind to swim alone again. It never occurred to me that I might have looked at the wrong place.

Call me childish or sentimental, but whenever I looked at you, I felt like Ariel, the little mermaid, hiding behind the rocks to sneak a glance at the prince. You seemed so sure, so fine, so stable, so fixed, so opposite of me.

While I needed to hold on to something to keep me in one place and safe, you were just there, magnificent like the sun, without a care of the world. My soul was transfixed.

Many came to me with their offers, but their light paled in comparison to you, the true light. They were like the moon while you were the sun, and even though I'm a coward, I still dare to be ambitious and aim for the sun. It's like a moth to a flame.

Your smiles were and still are the warmest. They made the cold creature in me surrender and crawled out of the dark to actually stand in the light before you. Was it a kind of reverence? I dare not to use such a heavy word. And I dared not to impose my heavy feelings on you.

The moment I saw your light, I had already become speechless. I wanted to tell you many things, the good, the bad, the silly but I couldn't find the words. And that was fine, really. I found love in the silence of our existence together.

You taught me that life was not just about constantly swimming and floating but it can also be about being still and taking in all the things around us, and taking out all the things inside us. To lay them out on a table and let the other pick what they like, making a trade. You keep something of mine, and I keep something of yours.

Note: Before meeting you, falling in love with you, this person just floated through life with several superficial connections that, at the end of the day, made them feel even more lonely than before. There is a feeling of being lost in the dark, forever grasping for something. Then the moment they see you, your composure, your stillness and your stability will draw them in, probably a moment where you will display a sense of responsibility and confidence, being there for them, being their rock. They will feel a sense of finally being able to rest, to stand still and enjoy life.

Their temperament and yours are probably opposite of each other. Opposite attracts.

The moment they fall in love will also be the moment they put you on a pedestal, a fixed place for them to look up to. And at the same time, they will want to fuse with you, to possess some of your traits while you are taking in their influences. The feeling, the desire for belonging will be the spark that ignite their love for you.

3. Agate

You want me to tell you the moment that I fell in love with you? Can I be greedy and tell you many moments instead?

I don't have a love switch in me that can switch on and off suddenly. The concept of love at first sight perplexed me.

To me, loving you feels like the spread of the ink, the water that flows slowly, the trail that we keep walking on. I felt like a piece of paper with a corner touched by the tip of your pen absentmindedly. The ink just spread slowly, but everywhere, until the piece of paper turned completely into your colour. A natural progression, the inevitable.

We debated, we laughed, we played, we dreamed, we ran, we feared. All of those moments, together, made the ink soaked deeper and deeper still, forming indelible marks on me.

I had put a lot of thoughts into this subject, believe me, about why did I fall in love with you and I had no answer, to this day still don't. I'm afraid, actually, to find the answer. What if the moment I put a definition to it, the moment the answer materialise in my head, it becomes a checklist? If the things in that checklist become untrue, will I just fall out of love with you? I'm scared of my mind sometimes, it kills the magic. Yes, I believe in magic. Even if I know that the magic trick in the show is all about the sleight of hand, but in some corners of my heart, I still believe in the real magic of the act. A part of me refuses to see the logic, the reality. Let me dream a little and don't ask me to define the indefinable, that is our love. Let things stay inexplicable sometimes.

Note: This person refused to define any moment as the moment they fell in love with you. It's a gradual progress for them. Everything you guys did together is another drop of ink (their word) making the love deeper.

They couldn't tell the beginning of it, and they are afraid of thinking about it, actually. It makes them dread the possible ending.

To this person, love is a journey, stretched through the span of their life, there is no start point nor an end point. They are highly rational and in their head a lot. Notice that they used the word "think" and "head". But they are aware that a part of them, their heart, yearn for something magical, the inexplicable and they want their love to be that way, to escape the scrutiny of their head, to leave out the logic.

4. Citrine

I had a belief that life is supposed to be an endless journey. We constantly have to keep moving, never stop. Whatever we are doing, whoever we are meeting, one day, they will all go away, leaving us, alone, on our journey. And I had been living with that belief for a very long time. Until you.

Being with you made me question if it was really necessary to be always on the move, to be alone on my journey. Yes, it's necessary to be always on the move, but it's not necessary to be alone. Just like a ship, they stop, the passengers step out, new passengers step in, and the ship goes on. But the captain and the crews won't change, they are together with the ship. And I wanted you to be the captain of my ship.

Changes are good, but having someone going along with you through all of those changes is even better, or best. I moved a lot, I travelled a lot, constantly seeking, constantly reaching. It wore my soul down. Some days, I just arrived home then threw myself on the bed, exhausted, trying to sleep to save the energy for the next day. It went on and on, the motion. I had all these experiences, all these wonderful stories along my travels that I didn't know whom to share with. I didn't have someone to hold me when I felt shaken, to whisper that everything would be okay. Until you.

Maybe the path I need to travel wasn't just to some faraway places but also to you all along. For the first time, I wanted to hang on dearly to something, someone, to you and to our relationship. To have a real home, to see myself so connected to you that the thought of leaving would be immediately banished out of my mind, to imagine myself being a parent to our children. I contemplated all of these and I saw all of these in my mind, clear as day.

Note: Before being in a relationship with you, this person had been travelling alone, constantly on the move, never had concrete, long-lasting connections with anyone. Could be due to their job and environment that they had to move a lot. It made them exhausted and didn't have enough energy for anything else.

But by meeting you, being in a relationship with you, their belief has changed. They want a companion, someone whom they can commit to and build a stable life with. Even with all the travelling, they can still feel the sense of being anchored. That's when this person falls in love with you. Now they have someone whom they can offer their love, their stories to, whom they can imagine a future home life with, who can hold them close without holding them down.

5. Labradorite

I have always yearned to be a part of a romantic fairy tale since I was a kid. Keep this a secret for me, okay? I dream of the two characters meeting at the most fateful moment, going through many hardships, longing for each other, and finally, at the end of the tale, pulling each other into an eternal kiss. And guess what, I actually have that with you! Minus the ending part and eternal kiss, we don't end, and an eternal kiss will make us out of breath. But you get the gist of it.

The first time you had to go away, I thought I would be fine, it's not like you went away forever, it was just a trip. And then, with each day, I found myself growing more restless. Constantly asking in my head, "Hey, where are you now? What are you doing?" Talking with you through the phone wasn't enough, I wished we had a telepathic line constantly connected to each other. Oh wait, maybe we do, I even saw you in my dreams.

And then you came back. That moment when I saw you, I felt something bursting inside me, like a balloon kept getting bigger and bigger inside me, pressed and stretched my outside taut. It hit me like lightning, I was a tree rooted in one place and lightning just strike down. I burst open and revealed my thumping heart inside. Was I overreacting?

I wished the place that you and I met on that day were our home so that I could play the longing character and finally welcome their lover home. Your familiar face is the face I want to see whenever I open the door. Your laughter is the one I want to hear whenever I say something funny (in my mind) or ridiculous. And your embrace is the one I want to be in whenever I realise I have someone by my side.

Note: This person might develops feeling for you for a long time but won't realise it themselves. Until you have to go away someday, it won't be a true separation. Might just be a business trip or some long vacation.

Your absence will make them feel a longing for you that they can't really explain because the situation won't be dire and serious, just a normal, temporary separation.

When they finally get to see you, all those longing feelings will come bursting out, and that's when they will realise they love you. You guys will actually do many things that they fantasise about when they were a kid. It will feel like a truly magical thing for them.

6. Amethyst

Ah yes, we can always tell our children and our grandchildren how we felt in love at a party, making them jealous of our boldness. Now I'm getting ahead of myself.

What better way to celebrate than to have someone with you to share the joy with. You're always like that to me. Whatever joy I have, whatever joy you have, we've never failed to share it with each other. And I'm honoured.

My wish had finally come true. I have achieved many of my ambitions. I can confidently say that I had been working hard and I earned it.

And that's when I saw you. I can also confidently say that you looked stunning at that party. You looked happy and I could feel that somehow our happiness was on a similar wavelength.

I have to admit, the afterglow feeling of my success made me a lot more bold and optimistic than normal. If it was the past me, I would probably have swept the attraction under many layers of insecurities and nervousness. Trying to convince myself that it was just a delusion.

But here I was. I dared to look for love. I mean, I had achieved success in different areas, there's no way I couldn't be successful in love, right? Logical, you can't argue with that (of course you will)

Deep inside me, I probably had felt that love would be the biggest achievement I could get. And I was willing to set out again, to put my effort into achieving that dream, with you.

Note: This group is strangely short. This is a person that hides a lot of their thought to themselves and they find expressing what they feel through words is difficult. They are more actions oriented. Prefer to set out milestones and goals to achieve. They consider everything good in their life is their achievement.

You guys probably meet at a celebration party, maybe you won't be there to attend the party but just coincidentally in the same space, maybe a restaurant, an open space.

They will have achieved some big milestones that make them proud and more confident, they put in their effort and now they can reap the reward.

The feeling of joy will be heightened. And amidst that celebration, they will see you and fall in love, very likely a love at first sight situation. And they will believe that they can achieve happiness with you.

[ingydar-phan]

Ok I do want to chime in on the convo but actually this is gonna be really long because I’ve been planning to make a huge post about this since the tour trailer came out. Like genuinely I messaged some people asking for tips on how to make a big conversation post weeks ago and then just never did it. So here goes I guess.

I am a firm believer they are going to hard launch soon. In some way shape or form. Before tour starts. That is a stance I have held ever since I watched pizza mukbang 2. And I have explanations.

My main points come from the coming out parallel surrounding Dans internalized homophobia and trauma responses and fear of rejection (more on that later), and also my hypothesized “3 stages” of the gaming channel revival.

I believe that when the gaming channel was revived, starting with the Heartthrob video, they entered stage 1: experimenting with audiences desire for a return to content. This was a phase they themselves discussed in Dans Birthday Stream and in Pizza Mukbang 2. The first few months were experimenting with what a new audience would look like and how much they were wanted, in what contexts, and what kind of content. I also think this wraps into the dynamic difference between Dan and Phil as people. Note, I love them both dearly and want nothing but the best for them both. It has been made clear that they did very different things during the hiatus, with Phil initiating the gaming channel comeback. Before Dan came out, he was under an immense feeling of guilt and pressure, even by his own mind. He had the option of leaving the internet forever, and he certainly considered it. Finish off the gaming channel, go on one last tour, and leave. Never having to adress anything again. But he didn’t do that. He came back. He came out. And he was greeted with the kindest, warmest, most accepting response. And he did work! He wrote a book! He went on a solo tour! And to echo both Dan himself and all of the community, he needed this. He needed this time of healing and this era of self discovery. He wouldn’t be who he is today without it, and I’m so proud of him.

But Phil? Oh Phil was just cruising along. That’s not at all to discredit any form of hardship Phil went through, but it certainly wasn’t the same. Phil was making content before Dan was, back in 2006. In uni, Phil was comfortable in his sexuality (or some form of queerness). But he waited. He waited to come out until Dan was ready. Because he’s a wonderful partner. He was happy continuing Amazingphil regardless of hiatus, of Dans needs, because he knew he didn’t have to pressure Dan into anything he didn’t want or wasn’t ready for. And then, presumably when Dan was ready, Phil proposed a gaming channel comeback. Just try it out, just see how it feels, low commitment. And what happened? Once again, they were showered with love and adoration and support and acceptance. Was the fandom different than how it used to be? Absolutely. But it was beautiful and loving. So that’s stage 1. Experimenting with content and viewership and re-entering the branding of Dan and Phil (Games).

Then, I believe after stage 1 came stage 2. Experimenting with audience reaction to Dan and Phil as a couple. I want to stake my claim here that everything they do is meticulously curated. Sure, Phil’s toe popping out of his sock wasn’t purposeful, but it was certainly handled intentionally. They’re extremely seasoned creators, and everything they do is for a reason. (That’s why I love rpf hehe). This, my “stage 2”, is when they were dipping their toes more into phan stuff. The orange heart. The “gay” community tab. Using the “ph-“ prefix THEMSELVES a lot more. Dab and Evan comparisons. This was the middle ground. How would people react? Would they turn away because it’s too much? Would they begin stalking and creeping all over again? Or would they accept these people for what they are. As much as people like to think Dan and Phil are just silly whimsical guys who are perfect no matter what they do (which is accurate as well tbf), they also know what they’re doing. They do these things on purpose to gauge audience reaction, to see how people feel about it. As others have said, what we see publicly is just a tiny sliver of their real life. Yea, even the domestic videos. It’s curated. And it’s wonderful. It’s so endearing they choose to share these things. Even in times of uncertainty. But that uncertainty was met with absolute acceptance.

Which is how we get into stage 3. I think “stage 3” started developing around the time of Dans Birthday Stream, but really actually started when the tour trailer was posted, and then all the videos after that (pizza mukbang, dressing each other, chained together, tiktoks, etc etc). So, very recently. But something shifted. Maybe it’s in the air, maybe it’s just me, maybe we all need to go outside. But something shifted. Dan and Phil, but especially Dan, saw how they were being accepted and took that as an affirmation. An affirmation that everything is going to be okay. They can commit now. They can go full on. Full hard launch.

I think everyone has a different definition of hard launch, and even I think it varies by context. But what I mean here is not necessarily them making some video called “Dan and Phil are romantically together” and staring at the camera with a gun to their head. It doesn’t, and shouldn’t, have to be that.

Straight people get this privilege of being assumed straight without having to “come out”. They get this comfort of having relationships without having to scream it in everyone’s faces.

And I do indeed agree with what people mean when they say they have already hard launched. They’re husbands, soulmates, 4000 year old tortoises, “basically any other gay couple”, more than just romantic, yea. I get it. But people are fucking stupid. Non-queer people don’t understand nuance, and need everything handed to them on a silver platter. Dan and Phil are together. People who try to twist and turn to try and “prove” they’re anything but a committed romantic and sexual relationship are ignorant at best, but mainly using homophobic wishful thinking. However, there’s more to go. There’s a reason we’re all “terrified” for what is to come. Because everything, the past 15 years of all of our lives, of their life, is coming together. It’s genuinely beautiful.

So what do I mean by hard launch then? Well, I mean a lack of censorship (besides what’s reasonable. Though we’d all love to see them fuck on YouTube, I’m not sure that’s happening any time soon). I mean a lack of shame. A lack of hiding. And it’s already begun. That’s what I feel stage 3 to be and have been. In pizza mukbang 2, they say things such as “cheers dear”, which is intentional. The “gay uncles” and the “kneeing” is all intentional. It’s not just throwaway jokes, it’s them looking us in the eyes and saying “we see you”. I have a whole list of stage 3 things. The intentional Incohearant cards. The “my face hurts from smiling” comments. THE HANDS ON THE SHOULDER TO THE HAND ON THE KNEE. Them being so open about their secluded romantic holiday. The relentless Phil bottom jokes. The yaoi day tweet from the outfits video. The “who would jump for you like that dog jumped for that man” “you”. It’s all there. It’s all intentional. And I’m so grateful for it.

One of my mutuals who I talked about this with (not gonna name cuz idk if they want me to) talked about their theory that DNP have given barely any info about tour because it requires some form of hard launch to preface it. And honestly? I didn’t even realize that was a theory. I sort of already accepted that as fact. How open IS the door gonna be?

So yea, I hope this makes sense. Please feel free to respond with or send asks of any nuances or questions or theories you’d like to add. I don’t intend this to be shaming anyone who thinks differently. Even if I may vehemently disagree with someone in my head, I don’t think these people are evil or malicious or objectively bad or deserving of hate. These are just my thoughts. I’ll likely be adding more. Thanks for reading.

[rangerbarbz]

First Time

Author’s Note: Y’all i am so sorry it’s been so long since i posted a fic. I am a junior in college and i have two jobs so i have been so busy. However expect some more stories now that it’s winter break! Hope everyone is having some happy holidays 🫶🏼

Summary: Reader and Ford go all the way for the first time together

It was a chilly night in Gravity Falls, Oregon when Stanford Pines and you decided to make some cookies. It was the perfect atmosphere for baking: comfy clothes, the temperature had dropped down, and the sun dipped behind the woods surrounding the Mystery Shack. The rest of the Pines family had went on an excursion to break into the theatre for a free movie, so you can’t imagine they would be back anytime soon.

Ford and you were in the kitchen trying to figure out what to make with the few ingredients you had available.

“Hmmm… So I’m seeing cinnamon here,” you said, looking into a cabinet next to the fridge. “I’m not seeing much else. What do you think about Snickerdoodles?” You grinned excitedly and faced Ford who was already smiling.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice resonating in you. God, his voice was so attractive. You remember hearing him talk for the first time in the library where you worked and your heart just melting.

He was in the fantasty section talking to himself when you walked by the aisle to reshelf a book. He was in the same area where the book needed to be relocated. Turns out you were holding the novella he was wanting to read, and you two struck up a conversation. He was kind and smelled delightful. You were too shy to ask him for his number, but a young girl who came into the library once a week for a crocheting club set you up on a date. You were unaware at the time this young girl was his great niece. The rest is history.

“Do you think everyone else will like them? I want to make sure these won’t go to waste,” you asked, scrunching your eyebrows together.

Ford scoffed as he was scraping flour from a measuring cup back into the bag. “Please, those things will be devoured. You have nothing to worry about.”

You laughed softly, standing up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Glad to hear that.” A small smile spread across his face.

While you two prepared the ingredients and mixed everything together, you filled Ford in on the workplace drama. He would never admit it, but he loved to gossip with you.

“I can’t believe Denise would do that,” he said in disbelief, shaking his head. “I mean who does she think she is?” You rolled the last ball of cookie dough in cinnamon and sugar before pressing it into the pan.

“Right?! Like come on, now. I thought we were civilized.” Ford chuckled at your comment and put the cookies in the oven.

“Some people just never learn.” He snaked his arm around your waist and put a hand on your hip, bringing you closer to him. You placed your hand on his broad back and leaned your head on his chest.

“We got about 25 minutes until these are done. Wanna see what’s on TV?” you suggested, looking up at him. He cocked his head to the side.

“Sure. I think that’s enough time to get through half an episode of ‘Ghost Harassers.’”

“Ah, man. Dipper’s got you hooked doesn’t he?” You giggled and began to walk into the living room, him following suit.

Ford sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I know it’s fake, but their reactions to these so-called ghosts are so funny.” He sat down on the recliner while you fiddled with the TV antenna to get it to the right channel.

It finally flickered to a group of men with flashlights running through an abandoned house screaming. “Ah! Got it!” you exclaimed. You ran over to Ford and sat on his lap. Your legs draped over his, feet hanging over the armrest. This time he kissed your cheek, his stubble tickling your face.

“Good job, dear,” he murmured in your ear. Butterflies formed in your stomach from hearing his low voice.

“Thanks, baby.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as one of his arms cradled you. He was so strong; you always felt protected by him. One hand was splayed across your stomach while the other was on your knee.

You were so engrossed in the show you didn’t notice Ford wasn’t paying a lick of attention. You were wearing loose shorts which exposed much of your legs, and he was entranced.

You lifted your head up to look at him, eyes drifting over your thighs. His hand remained still on your knee, however.

“Stanford?” You had a mischievous smile on your face.

He quickly looked over at you like he had just been caught doing something wrong. Since the lights were still on, you could see the blush spread across his face.

“Something catch your eye?” you teased, inching your face closer to his.

“I-uh. My apologies. I was distracted.” He cleared his throat and returned his eyes to the TV. Oh, so he was going to play dumb? You were going to drag it out of him.

“M-hmm. What was distracting you?” You egged on. He glanced over at you and back to the TV.

“Your, um, legs. They just looked very nice.” Ford answered quietly, avoiding eye contact with you. It was so cute to see Ford get flustered.

You had kissed and hugged, but never went much further than that. It was hard to find alone time, and Ford could be hesitant about showing affection. This didn’t bother you, though. You were willing to wait how ever long you needed to for him. He had been through a lot, so it’s reasonable for him to want to take things slow and gain trust.

“Ford, you can touch my legs if you want,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his. “Do whatever you want. I don’t mind.” You gave him soft kiss on his lips and cupped his face in your hands. Your fingers slid through his silver hair and down the nape of his neck.

He sighed into your mouth and you felt his hand slowly creep up your leg. His other was on the small of your back. His hand began to slowly travel up and down your leg, stopping to squeeze every now and then as you continued the kiss.

God, he was being so gentle with you and all you can think about is ripping his clothes off.

You shifted your body so you were straddling him without breaking contact with his lips. His hands started to squeeze your thighs a little harder, his thumbs rubbing your inner thighs.

You whined a little against his lips. You could feel his lips turn into a smile. You decided to deepen the kiss by opening your mouth and sliding your tongue along his lips. You felt him shiver as he welcomed you. What started as an innocent kiss began to turn into a make-out sesh. His hands had moved to your hips and were gripping them. Not tightly enough to hurt you, but enough to feel oh so good.

You broke away from the kiss when you heard the oven timer go off. “Dammit, cookies,” you joked, getting up from Ford’s lap. “Don’t move. I’ll be back for you, handsome.” You quickly pecked his nose and made your way into the kitchen. The Snickerdoodles smelled delicious as you pulled them out of the oven. You placed the pan on the stove top not wanting to damage the kitchen table from the heat. You removed your oven mitts from your hand and placed them back in the drawer where they came from.

“Cookies are done! Just-“ You were cut off by Ford scooping you into his arms and carrying you to his room. You were giggling uncontrollably all the way there feeling like a bride on her honeymoon.

He pushed open his bedroom door and gently placed you on his bed. He sat beside you, his eyes staring earnestly into yours. He took your hands into his, fingers intertwining perfectly together.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he started. “I am tired of dancing around these feelings I have for you. I want to be completely vulnerable.”

You were a little worried as to what he was about to tell you.

“I’m in love with you. I love everything about you, and I know in my heart this is deeper than surface level admiration. And…if you’ll let me. I want to show you just how much I love you.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes. You lifted your hand into his and began to plant kisses on each of his knuckles. “Oh, Stanford. I would be honoured, but are you sure you want to move forward like that? I know you like to take things slow.”

He shook his head and smiled at you while using his thumb to wipe away the tear falling down your cheek. “I’m totally sure. I was holding back my affections for you because I was scared. I’ve never felt this strongly for someone before, and I didn’t want to make careless mistakes. Now all I want is you. If you’ll have me, that is.”

You grinned and nodded your head eagerly. “Yes, please.” His face was pink perhaps from the whirlwind of emotions you both were experiencing.

He leaned forward his hands holding your face now. His movements were more sure than they had ever been before. You laid on your back, letting him take charge.

Your innocent kiss quickly turned rampant, exploring each other’s mouths. Your hands gripping his broad shoulders and moving through his hair once again. His elbows were on either side of your head, his breath becoming more ragged. His lips moved from yours to kiss down your neck. You moaned into his ear as sucked on a spot in the dip of your collarbones. There was sure to be a hickey there in the morning, but you didn’t mind. There was something erotic about having a mark from him.

Ford kissed down the other side of your neck, leaving yet another sign he was there on your collarbone. His mouth went to your ear to whisper, “May I take off your shirt?”

“Yes,” you hissed. That was all he needed. His fingers tugged the hem of your oversized shirt and pulled it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra which had Ford somewhat short-circuiting. His eyes drank you in, eyes trying to capture your beauty permanently in his mind. He stared for so long you had become a tad insecure, so you crossed your arms over your breasts.

“No, no,” he moved your arms away quickly. “I’m sorry, dear. You’re just so…beautiful.” You felt your face heat up. His eyes were just so full of adoration, and it made you nervous.

“Thank you,” you replied softly. He smiled gently and started to kiss down your chest. They were as soft as feathers. He then kneaded at your breasts, letting out a sharp exhale. His calloused hands felt wonderful against you. His thumb caressed your nipple before he put it in his mouth. You yelped at the contact. His tongue swirled around your aerola as his other hand pinched your hard nipple between his fingers.

“F-Ford,” you breathed, your hands gripping his hair. He had began to suck at your nipple and repeated the same actions to your other breast.

He continued to move down your body, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He got to your loose shorts and looked at you as to ask for permission. You nodded, your face becoming hotter.

Ford’s eyes glinted with lust as he looked into your eyes. “You know, I loved the way you said my name. Can’t wait to hear you say it more.” You could barely register how smooth that line was before he was removing your pajama bottoms. You didn’t wear underwear to bed so you were now completely exposed.

Ford sat up to look you up and down. His lips were parted slightly, and his hands gently rubbed your thighs. He looked at you in disbelief.

“Y/N, you are the most heavenly sight I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Ford murmured. “You look like art.” His eyes had gazed down back to your now dripping core, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. He sure knew how to worship his woman.

“But frankly, my dear, I’m about to be very disrespectful to you,” he mumbled, his lips kissing your inner thighs.

“Oh God,” you moaned. He was making his way to your center but taking his sweet time. Ford was a loving man. However, you could tell a primal part of him had been awakened.

His placed sweet kisses along your folds before flicking his tongue along your clit to tease you. You cried out in pleasure as he dove into you. He licked a stripe inside you and moved his tongue back and forth. You heard him moan deeply as he tasted you. Your brain was becoming foggy from how good everything felt and how he enjoyed pleasing you. Your thighs pressed against the side of his head; his hands were massaging your hips.

“Stanford, please. I want to feel you.” You needed him so bad. He lifted his head up from your thighs, slick covering his chin and lips. His hair was a ruffled mess. God, he looked good.

“Of course, sweetheart.” His finger rubbed along your entrance. He breathed heavy as he slid a finger into you. You let out a sharp inhale as you adjusted to him.

“Ford…”

“You feel so, so good.” Ford pumped his finger back and forth in you. Your eyes were closed and your legs had started to shake. “Fuck,” he said under his breath. Seeing you come apart underneath him was almost too much for Ford.

You had decided that he had done enough for you. It was time to return the favor. “Baby, baby. I wanna ride you.” Ford stopped and slowly removed himself from you.

“Are you sure?” he asked. I don’t mind-“ You pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him. You grabbed his face and kissed him passionately.

You separated from the kiss to see his eyes wide and a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Take off your shirt,” you demanded. He quickly removed his loose red shirt to reveal a toned, yet scarred body. You had actually seen him shirtless before accidentally when he came out of the shower in just a towel so this wasn’t a shock. You found it incredibly attractive. Although, it took lots of convincing for him to believe you.

You ran your hands over his chest and kissed him once more. “You’re so sexy, Stanford,” you whispered to him before biting his earlobe. You spastically kissed him all over his body, letting your hands now roam over his muscular arms. You couldn’t tell it by looking at him, but he was packing some heat under those sweaters. You were also grinding down on his painfully erect dick which caused him to whimper.

Ford sat up and held you close to him as you fumbled with pulling down his sweatpants. He sprang free and you lowered yourself onto him. He let out a guttural moan as he felt your walls tighten around him. His forehead was against your shoulder while you bounced up and down on him. His strong hands had grabbed onto your ass, his fingers pressing into the tended flesh.

“Y/N…Oh my…” You held his face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes while you fucked him. He had a loving look; you had an animalistic one.

“I’m… Not going to last much longer, darling,” he said between breaths.

“Me neither baby.” It was the truth. He already almost had you with his finger, but now that his length was inside you, you didn’t stand a chance. Your legs had started twitching and you threw your head back, allowing Ford to assault your neck further. His arms were now wrapped around you as you came insanely hard. You thought you were gonna see stars. It only took a couple more seconds for him to fill you up. His chest heaved up and down as he collapsed on his bed with you on top of him.

“That was…wonderful,” he sighed, placing a kiss against your temple.

“Agreed, but I think we need a shower after that,” you suggested.

Ford raised one of his eyebrows at you. “Round two?”

You laughed and smacked his shoulder. “Oh you bet.”

P.S. I didn’t look over this so if you see a typo or bad grammar no you didn’t

[burdenandacrop]

˗ˏˋ ❝ italian leather sofa. ❞ ˎˊ˗

thank u to the wonderful @thecourtjester-e for being the reason this is being written, ur MIIIIND. this goes hand in hand with my cake AND schlatt obsession so ... does a twirl.

HEAVILY based on the song italian leather sofa by CAKE !

summary : for a schlatt & co video, your [ secret ] boyfriend decides to take you out shopping. showing off his douche-bag internet persona, unbeknownst to him; that was actually quite the turn on. with a little fashion show back at home, he shows you just how hungry he's been.

⋮ ⌗ ┆established relationship, secret relationship, schlatt is mean in this one, you're also decently famous!, dabbles in a bit of spoiling, power difference k!nk, degrading mixed with some praising, rough smut.

the bright luminescent lights were beaming across the designer store, your hands gently trailing through the racks of numerous dresses. you weren't used to this sort of environment, but it was very quickly becoming second nature to you. to the internet's eye, you were schlatt's acquaintance who was mostly just known for your face. the running joke was that you were his personal thumbnail over-user, considering every video the two of you did got millions of views. almost the amount that his reaction videos got, and this was on his second channel. surprisingly, not a whole lot of people suspected you to be a pair. rather just an unconventional duo, which kind of worked on your end.

he brought the camera back up to your face, making you smile and droop your shoulders with a grin. "these good enough for you miss socialite?" schlatt sneers out, you wished the viewers could see just how cocky he looked in the moment. "brought her here to the most expensive mall in new york, nothing too smancy." he adds on, turning the camera to his face to wink and smile, "cause you know, i can afford that." god he was so insufferable, in a good way surprisingly. he brings the camera back to you, anticipating for you to say something. "i just need a dress for my event." you snicker out, rolling your eyes and searching the racks yet again.

"and of course you had to come here for it, didn't ya?" he teases, you just shake your head and continue to search the racks. eventually pulling out a red silk dress. schlatt was hoping to god the microphone wouldn't pick up how his breath hitched when he saw it. his mind already reeling on how it'd look on you. "this one?" you ask, looking at the camera with a smile. shaking the hanger and awaiting for schlatt to do anything but gawk. a part of you almost wanting to turn the camera right around just to show the viewers how down bad he was. "yeah get the red, brings out your rosacea real nice." he bites back with a chuckle.

you scoff at him and rub your cheek, worried that it was visible to the camera how aggravated your skin might've been. "yeah, get a purple tux to match your eyebags, dickhead." you groan out, hoping to one up him. you knew the viewers loved the bickering, especially with your one liners. "i'll get a ralph lauren one and call it a day, can't say you can do that." he replies with a smile, he knew you had your own money but he liked to occasionally throw in that he was a smidge more successful.

"yeah i can't wear a tux, no shit schlatt." you roll your eyes and stow the dress back on the rack. almost sending him into a panic, "editor, cut this." he stammers before leaning the camera down for a moment. "keep it, i'm buying it." he practically chokes out. your head whipping back to him with a smile, nodding and stowing the dress in between your arm. you secretly loved how he insisted on things like that, was kind of hot in a way.

he sighs in relief and brings the camera back up with a smile, going right back to his persona. "gonna buy anymore or are you too low on cash for it?" he stated, knowing damn well he'd be leaving this store with a dent in his wallet. "i'll have to look and see." you sigh out, looking to him for a moment before looking back to the racks. "you're no sydney sweeney but i'm sure it'll suffice." he stifles out, making you side eye him as you were just about to pull out another dress.

"and you're not hugh jackman with those chops." you say as you roll your eyes, pulling out another silk dress, except it was black. "now what about this one?" you state as if you didn't just plain insult him, the both of you knew it was just for viewer attention. "it looks like people will only be looking at the dress, saves the trouble of looking at your face." he snickers out, you look at him with a groan. suddenly seeing his lips mouth the words 'keep it. that one too.' it was so hilarious to see the switch, you just wished the rest could see, but of course, they couldn't. "you're truly such a gentleman, mommy must be so proud." you gruffly reply, making him shrug with a smug grin. "that she is." he measly replies.

"see what i put up with for clicks? she's so ungrateful." he adds on, rotating the camera back to his face with a sigh. you shake your head as you eye another dress, the royal blue was catching your eye. "and it seems miss socialite has found yet another dress that's gonna bankrupt her." schlatt chuckles out, panning the camera back over to you as you show off the dress with a smile. "isn't the color so nice?" you ask with the same cavity inducing smile, knowing it'd probably be clipped all over twitter. whatever, as long as it brought money with it. which is almost always did. you watched as schlatt sweetly grinned with a nod, hidden from the view of the lens. "how much is it again?" he says as he reaches for the dress to hang his fingers to the tag.

his eyes widening as he realized it was a $3000 dress, looking back up to you with a grin. he zoomed the lens into the tag, then slowly panned the camera back to his face. his eyes bugging out with his brows furrowed in a comical look, quickly dropping it for a more serious expression, "i spend that in an hour, anyways." he deadpans, making you scoff at him and turn yourself away from him. he looks up from the camera to see your irritated stature and belts out a low laughter, turning the camera right back to you. zooming right into your head, picking up how your head was shaking as you continued to browse the racks. "somebody's sour about that fact." schlatt teases, making you spin your head back to him with narrowed eyes. he was so unserious.

"what's this- event even about anyhow?" he honeyed, at least the question wasn't half bad. you leaned against the rack, twirling the hanger as you thought of how to answer. "it's for this upcoming body-care line, very prestigious." you reply with a grin, feeling a bit prideful that you did get invited to something like that anyhow. "they just don't invite majorly successful people to advertise their products, got it." he pokes, making you nudge his shoulder with a groan. the comments from him were never ending; but so was a lot of other things. "what? you don't think i can be a good representative of smelly goods?" he snickers out, drooping his shoulders at you with a slight pout. "yeah, you totally could." your tone couldn't be any more sarcastic.

he softly pumped a fist in the air and panned the camera back to him, "that's what i thought." he stated, looking back to you with a knowing smile. the little look giving you a good idea of how his ego was far from being bruised. "now if she could go through with this faster- i can get my watch." he sighs out, shaking his head at you as you continued to scroll through the racks. "this is the kind of greed that they talk about in the bible." he adds on, earning a little chuckle from you. his switch off button was no where to be found.

"a lot of talk coming from you, y'know?" you breathily reply, the weight of the dresses getting to you as they restlessly laid on your arm. "i'm allowed to talk." he snapped back, he noticed how the weight of the dresses were getting you as you bobbed your arm up and down to try and balance it. "look, now she's getting all tired. see what internet notoriety does?" he jokes, turning the camera back to your state. "tell that to a mirror." you reply with a chuckle, making him nod. "oh i do, every damn day baby." his tone was unbelievably cocky. though, another part of you was asking; why were you really liking it? now what did that say about YOU?

the camera had already been recording for a good thirty minutes, he followed you around for a short bit more. getting all the funny banter that he would need for the video, he already knew they would eat it up. it was you after all, you were basically an infinite money glitch. yeah, he was mean as shit to you on camera. he just didn't want people to interfere with your relationship, especially when the cameras were gone. he knew if his viewers, particularly his male viewers, knew he bagged such a beautiful girl. he'd never hear the rest of it on twitter, so it seemed it was the smarter decision. plus, what man likes to share? especially not him.

he stowed away his camera with a smile, immediately gripping his hand around your waist as the two of you reached the check-out line. "you're out of your mind if you think you're wearing any of those to that promo event." he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you had a good five dresses in your arms, all together probably the amount that most people pay for a down payment on a bentley. "the black one's my favorite though." you whine out quietly, looking up into his eyes with a smile. "why do you think i don't want you wearing it out then?" he replies, his hands wandering up your back slowly. "just wear the blue one, cmon baby." he pleads. making you sigh and oblige to his request.

you knew exactly why he didn't want you wearing the black one, based on how you saw it was sewn. it'd look damn near painted on your figure, the blue one on the other hand was a lot more 'leave it up to your imagination' sort of deal. the two of you eventually made it up to the cashier, placing your dresses down as he checked the quality and the tag. "find everything to your expectations today, miss?" the cashier says as he begins to scan everything, his eyes a bit narrowed as he noticed the amount that was racking up. you fiddled your hands together in front of you, nodding to the cashier with a soft grin. "everything is to par." you felt so pretentious saying that, but you deserved it in a way.

you watched as the cashier raised his eyebrows to your reply, smiling to himself as he continued to scan the tags. his eyes almost lighting all the way up as the price continued to raise. you saw how his eyes wandered back to you, eyeing how your blouse sat on you. maybe a little too hard too, with a smile plastered on his face as he did so. schlatt let out a deep exhale, knowing it was loud enough to be a signal for him to keep his eyes where he needed them. if he wanted to keep them, that is. the cashier smiled and stood up more straight to eye the total, "$10,034.67, miss." he stated, almost not believing the price. schlatt watched how he was eyeing you, he was one to give second chances but he just blew that on how he was insistent on looking at you like that.

he took a step closer to the counter and leaned down slightly, just to throw it in the little cashier's face that he had a good six inches on him. cocky as ever, maybe some parts of the 'persona' were real after all. your eyes followed to him, noticing how irritated schlatt was getting to be. you knew you had to do something to get out of this, and pronto. you nervously smiled at the cashier before shuffling your hands to your purse, you couldn't imagine he was actually being serious about paying for all of this. that'd just be ridiculous. you felt his hand gently but strictly wrap around your wrist to halt your motion to try and grab your wallet. making you shoot your head back to him, "don't embarrass me like that." he says barely above a whisper. "you know i got it." he adds on with a sigh, pulling his wallet to whip out a black card of all his cards.

he used that card any chance he got, just to be annoying that he did in fact make that much. you watched as he handed it over to the cashier like it was nothing, looking back to you with a soft grin. "what?" he says as if he had no idea why you were looking at him like he had three heads. "douche." you roll your eyes with a smile. he shakes his head and leans his head down to reach you better, "you haven't seen anything yet." he whispers into your ear, you could practically hear the smug grin in his tone. the cashier carefully put all the dresses into the boxes, then slid into the bags. handing over the bag with a smile, "see you next time." he snarkily goodbyes, giving him a soft nod about to open your mouth to save the possibility of embarrassment. "oh you will." schlatt slyly replies before turning with you to leave, making sure to not let go of you for even a second. slightly tilting his head to eye the creep of a cashier, lowering his hand to your behind and nodding. he looked back to you and kissed the top of your head. was it prideful? yeah. did he care? no.

schlatt's head reeled back into the couch's leather, eyes closed as he impatiently waited for your little fashion show. the one that you insisted wasn't going to take long, now having him sit for a good 20 minutes to himself. wasn't your fault though, you were just intensely afraid you would tarnish the dress by putting it on too quickly. okay, and basically gawking at yourself in the mirror for way too long. let a girl live. schlatt opened his eyes and peered them over to the coffee table that had his brand new longiene watch that was sitting in it's neat little box.

"oh, what the hell." he groaned out, leaning over and picking up the small box. smiling to himself as he took it out of the case, draping it around his wrist to snap on. did feel quite nice to have three thousand on his arm, a little ego boost if you will. he twisted it on his wrist, leaning back into the couch with a sigh. "you almost done in there, hon?" he yelled out, spreading his legs out as he fidgeted with the settings on his new watch. you patted down your dress, knowing it was probably best you just escape your little narcissistic moment. for now at least. you took one last look in the mirror, swooshing your hair on your shoulder so you could get one last peak on how nice the backless effect was.

"in there in a sec!" you yelled back from the bathroom, letting go of your hair and smiling to yourself as you opened up the door to walk down the hallway. hoping you were going to get the reaction you were hoping for from him, maybe then the money would seem worth it. he cocked his head to the side as he heard your footsteps, a grin growing on him as he saw the first impressions of the dress. you grazed your hand along your hip as you made your way in front of him. "lil spin for me?" he asked with a smile, leaning back into the couch and crossing his arms. you nodded and twirled yourself around slowly. he licked the roof of his mouth as he watched every movement, deeply stuck almost.

you crossed your hands together behind your back as you stood in front of him, the look on his face alone told you all you needed to know. "it's even backless!" you excitedly state, turning your back towards him to show it off better. "if you don't sit your ass down." schlatt says as he shakes his head, gesturing for you to come over with his finger. you raise an eyebrow and slowly walk over to him, leaning down and letting your palms rest on the leather. purposely not giving him what he wanted right away. looking right into his eyes and titling your head to his just a smidge closer. "i take it you like the dress?" you whisper out, his hands reaching up to your ribs. "do i like the dress, huh?" he mocks back at you with a grin, letting his hands roam around under your breast. his eyes failing him as he looked at how your hips looked poking out.

he leaned his head back and looked up and down at you without shame, almost trying to convey his pleading with his eyes. you leaned your knee onto the leather, cocking your head to the side as you continued to move yourself onto the couch. schlatt's mind reeling as he could see the silk tightening around your hips. "i've already got hypertension, are you trying to make it worse?" he gruffly stated, his hands wandering down right above your hips as he helped you settle on his lap. you roll your eyes as you lean your hands on the edge of the couch, right above his shoulders. "you're so dramatic." you snicker out, adjusting the edges of your dress that were riding up. that little notion not making him the happiest.

his hands went right to your thighs to trail up the fabric, his chest slowly puffing as more and more skin showed. "this is more like it." he muttered, bringing his hands up to your shoulders to toy with the straps as he looked at you. "you don't think?" he added, expecting you to be vocal. he knew exactly what he wanted you to say, which was to admit how needy he was getting you. he could see it by how you gently squirmed under his touch, stroking his ego a little further. you slowly nod and adjust your hips above him, "yes, this is better." you sigh out. which earns him a little chuckle, raising his hand up to cup your chin. "there's the money." he practically seethes out, racing his free hand to your breasts to give them a firm squeeze. it was pretty hard not to.

his hand reaches up so he can gently tug down at the offensive fabric covering you, you arch your back a little to give him a better view. "you trying to say thank you?" he asks, tracing his finger along the silky straps. you softly hum and nudge your shoulders with a smile. "point taken." he adds, pulling down the straps and dropping his hand from your chin to fully engorge his hands to your breasts as the delicate fabric fell onto your stomach. "and no bra? you're just trying to get in trouble." he seethes out, involuntarily bucking his hips up as he looked up into your eyes. watching how the friction was affecting you.

he reaches his hand up to the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss, gently groaning as your lips meet. his other hand still grabbing a selfish amount of your breast into it. you grind in with his hips, making him deeply exhale and drop his hand to your ass to give a sharp slap. you knew exactly what he wanted, and you knew exactly how you were going to do it. he gently pulled back from your lips after a moment, looking up at you. "i'm kinda exhausted from today, baby." he states, letting his hand grip along your ass again. that didn't mean he didn't want to do it, just meant he wanted you to do all the work. perhaps as a thank you.

you softly nod and lean down to your knees, feeling his hands leave you as you felt your knees hit the hard wood. you could see his smile above you as you began fiddling with his belt, his jeans practically making a tent. unbuckling the belt and pulling it off slowly, knowing damn well he wasn't in the mood for anything that slow. it was just fun to be a bit of a tease sometimes. he trailed his hand to the top of your scalp, ruffling your hair gently as he looked down at you. "cmon baby." his voice cooed, you sigh and unbutton his jeans. letting the zipper come undone as you pulled down at them. being met with a rather aggressive hard on from him.

you looked up to him, his fingertips running through your hair as he smiled down at you. then dropping his hand down the side of your face, shaking his head as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip. "so pretty." he whispered, letting his hand drop to your chin as your hands fiddled with his boxers. his anticipation only growing further, but he wasn't satisfied just yet. he fluttered his eyes shut as he felt your mouth wrap around him, his hand shooting right back to your hair to grab a fistful. you paced yourself as you listened to his grunts coming from his stubbornly closed lips. he wanted so badly to just slam your head down, but right now; it felt way too good to mess anything up. he could afford the patience.

he kept his grip on your hair, his mouth gaping open as he looked down to the saliva mess you were creating from your tongue. he wasn't usually the biggest fan of messy sex, but today would just have to be an exception. bucking his hips slightly, causing you to accidentally slam your mouth around his base. even the gagging sound beginning to excite him a little too much. he liked the sound of struggle, knowing it was hard to keep up. he leaned his head into the leather and looked down to see your eyes glaring at him, even the gloss over your eyes made him want to bite back. "keep it up with your mouth and i'll give you what your hips are begging for." he choked out, his stomach twitching from underneath his shirt. he knew was cusping at the edge.

you felt your body warm up at his words, only making you give him a real show with your mouth. his grunts becoming incredibly obvious now, he wanted the real thing. he let you pump him for a few more moments before pulling your hair to unlatch your lips from him. watching as the saliva slowly dripped from your gaping mouth, snickering to himself. "uh-uh, i want you up here baby." he breathily stated, releasing your hair from his fist. he watched as you crawled back onto his lap with a shit eating grin. "hike it up for me." he added on, trailing his hands on your thighs as you curled up the fabric around your hips. he looked down to your underwear and shook his head, "off." he demanded, making you quickly pull of the couch for a moment to toss them off of you. quickly plopping back onto his lap, his eyes zoned on the new sight.

his fingers quickly moved under you to rub along your clit, smiling to himself as it immediately made an effect on you. "you like me spending all that money on you?" he asked, continuing his pace. you shakily nod, only able to respond in needy whimpers. "come on, answer me baby. or i'll have to stop rubbing on you like this." he snickered out, knowing he was going get the exact answer he wanted. "y-yes!" you choke out, bucking your hips with the movement of his fingers. "and you just love paying back, don't you?" he sighs out, looking down to his fingers. your hands grip along the edge of the couch, almost about to fall back. "you just get whatever you want, huh?" he adds on, biting down on his tongue as he fastened his pace along you.

his kept his eyes down, slowly trailing his fingers from your clit to your slit with a grin. "you want this, don't you baby?" he groaned out as he teased the tip of his finger on your slit. you looked at him and leaned forward, almost trying to push it inside yourself. "mm-mm, don't get shy now- if you don't say what you want, i can't give it to you baby. tell me." he seethed out, shaking his head softly at your impatience. "please- give it to me." you whimper out, progressively just getting more and more needy. with that, and a click of his tongue, he shoved one finger inside you. your eyes shutting as it reached fully inside. "already two?" you groan out, earning him a little chuckle. "it's just one for now, baby." your hips immediately pressing down into his legs as he curled his finger. it really was unbelievable just how nice the one felt.

he watched as your head flailed back to his motions, his free hand reaching up your chest. letting his fingers grip along your neck gently, making you fix your head back down. "show me that you want more, baby. i know a sweet- sweet whore like you can." he sneered out, letting his grip tighten along your throat slightly. your noises only growing more desperate as he curled his fingers right where it needed to be, your hips switching along him. he watched how your hips moved with ease, knowing how good it feel right on his dick; but he could be patient. this was more than worth it. "god- you fucking slut." he seethed out, popping another finger in as he smoothed out his pacing. "you deserved another one for that." he added on, pumping his fingers in and out.

you lean down and press your palm into his chest to stabilize yourself, huffing for air as he continued. he snickered to himself as he could see how quickly you were just giving in, bringing his free hand to cup your face as he kept his finger's pacing. "it's a miracle you can take my cock when you act like this with my damn fingers." he muttered, keeping his grip tight on your face. your eyes fluttering open and shut as he kept on, unsure on how much longer he could go with this before you would completely unravel. "got you in the palm of my hand, don't i?" he adds on, swallowing deeply and waiting for you to do anything but whine out. your hips begin to whine on his fingers, making him look down at the mess you were creating with yourself. "fucking yourself back with my fingers? show me how you really feel, hm?" he grunted out, smiling as he noticed how close you were to coming right on him.

slowly nodding with a grin as he noticed the immense relief that washed on your face, feeling your hips slowly come to a stop. he groaned and pulled out his fingers of you, settling both his hands now on your hips as he raised your body up. "my turn, yeah? only fair right?" he seethed out, your body was already so exhausted. you knew it'd be worth it though, adjusting the fabric of the dress before settling yourself on his dick. schlatt's hands gripping tightly into your hips as you pushed all the way down, a bit surprised you did it so quickly. no questions. just how he wanted you. you kept your hand on his chest as you bounced yourself, his eyes transfixed on how your breasts were bouncing with you. a part of him wanting to just completely take over.

he slapped his hand along your back, causing you to fall right where he wanted you. running his fingertips into your back as he latched his lips onto your breast, lapping his tongue the best he could with your rapid bouncing. his eyes closed as he focused on sucking down on you, enjoying every last moment. roaming his hand along your back as he pulled you in close, smashing every inch of your flesh against his face. his other hand giving a sharp slap on your ass as you were reeling him in more and more. choking out a yell, only encouraging you to keep your vigorous pacing on his cock. your arms wrapping along his shoulders as you wailed out, schlatt's body stiffening as he felt your insides tighten around him. unable to control himself, his lips letting go of your breasts. his head falling to the back of the couch, all he could do was look at you and pant. it couldn't be more perfect.

you were so drowned in the pleasure, you didn't even realize how intense you were going. oh but he knew, letting out a low groan as you continued. his eyes failing to keep open, but he needed them open so he could see how good your tits looked while you bounced so desperately. almost like your life depended on it. his hand trailed up your sides, the dress had basically became a hip cover at this point. the only thing you could hear from him was a few 'fucks' and 'shit's underneath his breath, watching him beneath you as he struggled to keep himself together. "god- don't let me stop you now." he groaned out, bucking his hips to meet with yours as your pacing began to lessen. looking up into your eyes as he noticed how tired and shaky your legs were getting.

finally having enough, just wanting to rummage every bit inside of you. grabbing onto your sides and bucking his hips up and down, a pace you couldn't do if you tried. he smiled as he watched your lips fall agape, you really were just letting go. just for him. he'd be lying if he said that's not what he wanted. "come on. let go." he stifles out through his grunts, giving you another rash slap to the ass. "this is exactly what you wanted, hm?" he adds, looking up to you and expecting an immediate answer. he noticed the side of your ass reddening, only exciting him further to do it again. "answer me." he grunts out, practically branding your ass with his palm. you yelp out and grip onto the edge of the couch to not complete fall over, "g-god yes!" you shakily whimper out, huffing in and out.

he flails his head back and continues to mindlessly pump into you, almost choking on his breath as he climaxes. slowing down his pacing as he lets it fill inside, rubbing his hands around the raised up skin on your hip. the heat radiating off his palms. "you wanna show me the other dresses?" he snickers out, trying to catch up with his breaths. running a hand through his hair with a smile, you groan and pull yourself off of him. almost stumbling on your own movements, "if that's what you want." you huff out, watching as he began to pull up his boxers. "what? scared of round two?" he stifles out, sitting up more upright as he watched you fix yourself back up. you roll your eyes with a grin as you pull up the straps of the dress, his grin growing as he's reminded just how good you look.

you peel up the fabric up to cover up your breasts, wincing as you try to move your hips. the silk pairing perfectly with your dampened skin, and he was well aware of how beautiful it looked. "yeah. i'm taking you back to that store soon." he mutters, eyeing you up and down. "you've made it clear it's worth it."

author's note : i think this was the most excited i've gotten off a one shot idea, maybe Ever. perhaps it's because it's based on one of my favorite CAKE song, but none the less @thecourtjester-e is a mastermind and i appreciate the patience and creativity that was helped put into this. so PLEASE check them out !! 💌 their new series is one of my personal favs and i'm sure it will be yours too :,))

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hiyaa!! i LOVE!!! your poly!maraduers x reader fics. i was wondering if you could make a fic where the reader has had an absolute horrid week and just got their period and our sweet boys comfort us bc of how good boyfriends they are 🥹🙏

-🌻

thanks for requesting! I hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: period cramps/symptoms, hurt/comfort

1k words

Your eyes were pinched tightly as you clutched your stomach, easing and tightening your hold as the pain ebbed and flowed. You had been feeling crummy all week with no explanation until you were getting ready to take a shower last night and saw the red rorschach stains on your thighs. Thankfully, you hadn’t bled on anything, but you still took extra care to check everywhere you had been sitting. After your panic had subsided, the previous few days had made sense. There had been a grating brick in the bottom of your stomach and a slimy feeling you couldn’t scrub from your skin. Either in addition to or because of these physical feelings, you had been particularly fragile. Your boyfriends had noticed your state, but you never confessed your emotions since there was no clear source, at least, until now. 

You were curled into yourself on the couch, as if the more condensed you were the less pain you would feel. You were nauseous to the point of not being able to stomach pain medicine. You had showered last night but still felt disgustingly greasy. There was a book open on the arm of the couch that you had been pretending to read, but eventually had no energy to continue. Remus was in the armchair next to you with his own book, while James mindlessly flicked through the television channels and Sirius sat in front of the coffee table with an array of snacks before him. They were leaving you mostly alone, probably assuming you were trying to sleep. Another cramp fizzed through your body and you winced, a small whimper escaping. Nearly silent, but Remus’ sharp hearing picked it up. He looked at you, clearly expecting some kind of obvious injury. 

“What’s wrong, dovey?” He looked like he was in pain himself. Remus was all too familiar with pain, but the idea of any of his loved ones hurting was enough to cause instant panic within him. 

“Nothing, I’m fine-” You almost had the sentence out when another cramp hit, making you screw your face up and inhale sharply. Sirius spun around at your reaction. You curled in on yourself further, tensing your stomach. 

“What’s going on with you?” Sirius had his rare no-nonsense tone. When you didn’t give a response he tried to pry your arms away from your torso, but you whined and scooted away. 

“I said it’s nothing.” You wanted to snap but you sounded too pitiful to have your desired effect.

“Hey. I’m not fucking around.” Sirius kept trying to inspect you, his brain clearly already at the worst case scenario. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Pads, calm down.” James scolded before turning his attention to you. “Let us help you, sweetheart.” He coaxed. You huffed, abandoning your hopes of being modest. 

“It’s really nothing serious. Just some uh, cramping. From… you know.” You tried to smile. The boys confused, and then quickly relieved but they still didn’t go back for their previous activities like you hoped they would.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Sirius slumped. “I thought you had fucking appendicitis or something.” 

“I think if I had appendicitis it would be a lot worse.”

“I don’t know, lovely girl.” Remus reached over both the arms of his chair and the couch to pet your head. “It looks like you’re hurting pretty badly.” He cooed a sad sound when you winced in pain again. 

“Have you taken anything?” James stood up, already heading to the bathroom medicine cabinet. 

“Not yet.” You said, feeling Remus’ wordless chiding. You could already hear what he wanted to say. ‘You have to get ahead of the pain, dovey.’ You took the pill bottle from James. 

“Have you eaten yet? You can’t take those on an empty stomach.” Remus reminded you. You sighed again, not from cramps this time. 

“No.” You said shamefully. Now you were being judged by the other two boys. 

“Baby,” James groaned, walking towards the kitchen now. Sirius was already shoving a package of mini muffins towards you. “Why?”

“My stomach hurt too much. I couldn’t get up.” You pouted, slowly chewing a muffin. 

“That was when you should’ve asked one of us.” Remus’ gentle bossy tone came out, the way it does when he’s feeling especially protective. 

“I would’ve been fine.” You reasoned. “I get this every month, it’s nothing out of the norm.” 

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. Do you think it doesn’t hurt for Remus every month?” Sirius had a charcoal-drawn brow raised. 

“That’s different!” You floundered. “Of course it hurts for him.” You got instantly emotional. “I wasn’t saying that.” 

“Pads,” Remus huffed before turning back to you. “I know you weren’t. But you see the point. It still hurts for you.” 

“ And we still wanna look after you.” James appeared with a glass of water and a hot water bottle for your stomach. You took the medicine while he fixed the heat over your abdomen. When he was done he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled. 

“Don’t thank me, darling.” He said, stroking your hair from your face. You jumped again when Sirius climbed on top of you without warning. 

“Siri! What are you doing?” You squealed as he settled his face into your neck.

“Lovin’ on you.” He said as it was the obvious answer.

“I’m disgusting right now.” You groaned, pushing his shoulders to shove him off. He just dead weighted and pulled you in closer. 

“Not possible, you’re mine.” He argued. James scoffed. 

“Oi! Not just yours!” James shoved Sirius away so he could kiss all over your scrunched face. You all but shrieked before he stopped, turning his attention to the TV remote. Sirius turned the two of you so you were on your sides, your back to his front facing the television. His hand was holding the hot water bottle to your stomach. Remus closed his book and laid on his side. His tall frame was folded in a way that was probably aching, but he still held it. He settled his head on the arm of his chair, nearly touching yours and Sirius’. 

“Are you feeling better, sweet thing?” Sirius asked quietly. 

“I do. Thank you.” You sounded awfully sleepy. 

“Wow. You two just shamelessly took advantage of the situation to turn us into the napping house.” James was trying to sound scolding but it just came out as affection. 

“It’s called being supportive, Prongs.” Sirius sassed, but you and Remus were already out. 

[haikyu-mp4]

Sponsored

word count; 742 – gn!reader who likes makeup

“Sugarpill… what is this?” Kenma mumbled as he opened another PR package. This one was a bright pink box, on the smaller side. He scrunched his nose as he opened it, finding a little flyer and something square with a pixelated cat on the front. “Fun size… eyeshadow palette?” he read off the label and looked up as the chat suddenly went crazy.

kozuluvr: omg its makeup

kenkenspudding: will we finally get beauty guru kodzuken?

raginggamergirl: I dont even use makeup n I want this palette

Kenma hummed under his breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why they would send me this,” he said honestly, twisting and turning the palette in his hands before opening it and showing the bright colours to the livestream, also doing his best to read off the names, which were all gaming related.

urfavkuroo: makeup tutorial for your next follower special?

He looked down at the palette, seemingly studying it. “The names are cool.”

When you came home from work, you kicked your shoes off and sighed loudly as you strolled into the kitchen. You knew Kenma was playing on livestream, so you picked up two juice boxes from the fridge and went to his office.

“Hey, baby,” you cooed, waving at the camera as you stepped up beside Kenma and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You two announced your relationship a long time ago, and after getting through the short period of intense hate comments, most of his fans seemed to get over it. They realised that you were kind of awesome.

“Hi, how was work?” Kenma asked, taking the juice box from you with a small thanks after pausing the game.

“Same old, same old.” You glanced at the screen and then back to him. “And yours?” you asked back with a teasing tone. “Looks tough.” Kenma scoffed and pinched your thigh, making you giggle. He ignored your question in favour of leaning across his desk to pick up the pink package.

“Look what I got in my sponsored mail,” was all he said, handing it to you and watching for your reaction with a small smile on his face. He really likes it when you get home.

People started posting suggested makeup looks with his name on Twitter and you even responded to a couple of them from your account, agreeing with what would suit him and what would not.

That’s why you two agreed that you would do the makeup on him, announcing on Kodzuken’s channels that if they got him to his next follower milestone, they would get a makeup special.

And what do you know, Kenma got a follower boost from all the posts his fans made about him and the palette.

You happily helped him set up to film in your living room, so you could sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch where the lighting was a bit nicer. In preparation, you cleaned your eyeshadow brushes and put Kenma’s hair in a nicer bun so the camera could properly catch whatever you did.

He raised a brow as you held up the eyeshadow palette to the camera and put your hand behind it, explaining the product. “What are you even doing?” he asked you, pointer finger drawing stars on your knee while he watched you affectionately.

“This is what us beauty gurus do,” you said in a jokingly posh voice, also telling him “You wouldn’t understand.”

“This is my channel, you know,” he teased, using his other hand to tap your cheek. If he focused more on you, he didn’t think too much about how much more exposed he was to his viewers in a video like this compared to what he was used to.

“Shh, I’m talking to my devoted followers,” you said before laughing, picking up the next colour on a new brush and putting a quick kiss on his lips before you continued with the makeup. “We’re all Kodzuken fans here.”

Kenma knew some people expected him to act annoyed, but he also knew there was no way to hide how much he loved your soft touches and the concentrated look on your face as your brushes ticked his skin to give him a (supposedly trendy) “rainbow blush”.

There were even more mentions of him online after the video was posted. Now the fans shared screenshots and video clips of him and his partner, discussing how adorable you were together. Couple goals.

masterlist