#this made me so happy and i appreciate it a lot :3

[vettelsvee]

letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win

(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm

V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭

WORD COUNT: 3958

WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.  

Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.  

"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"  

Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.  

"Yeah," was all he could say.  

"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.  

"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.  

"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"

Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.  

"Hey… I have something for you."

Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.  

Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.  

"Open it… I hope you like it!"

Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.  

"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.  

Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.  

"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."

You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.  

Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.  

Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.  

"Oscar…" 

"Y/N…"

"I want to do it."

Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.  

"Bebe…" 

"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."  

Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.  

Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.  

"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…" 

"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."

"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.  

You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.  

"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”

"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.  

"I promise, really."

Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.  

Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.  

You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.  

Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.  

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"

"I will, yeah."  

You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…  

*"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.  

"I love you too, Y/N…" 

With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.  

Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.  

Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.

Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.

“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.

“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“So...?”

“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.

“Y/N…”

“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”

You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.

“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”

Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.

“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.

His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.

“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.

That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.

“Y/N…”

His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you. 

“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”

“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”

“Do you promise me, love?”

“I swear.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.

Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.

When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.

“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.

“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.

He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.

You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.

It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.

“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”

And so you did.

Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.

The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.

“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”

“Oscar, don't…”

“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”

After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance. 

You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.

·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”

You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.

He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.

“Y/N…”

“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”

The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.

“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”

“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”

“Never for you, sweetheart.”

Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.

“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”

“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.

·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”

You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.

You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.

“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”

“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you. 

Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths. 

“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”

It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.

“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.

You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.

“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”

“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.

“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”

Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.

“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”

The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.

·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.

“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.

You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.

“You don't have to…”

“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”

Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.

When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.

“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”

“Was it good?”

Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder. 

”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”

You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.

“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”

Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.

“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”

[lokidjarin-7567]

Can you write a fanfic (only if you're comfortable of course) pairing kang dae-ho x f!reader, during the lights out. Basically they've developed a really strong connection since the beggining, and she's sleeping next to him while he's looking out for others (ok he's just basically watching you sleep). But you shift your position while sleeping and he sees sh scars on your wrist, and folds your sleeves and he sees multiple cuts and scars. You wake up from the motions and you see him with teary eyes and then you start to cry a lot, like having a panic attack and he comforts you and it's just a lot of fluff basically. (the reason from your cuts can be because you're deeply depressed and you're coping that way since you're 15 but at 21 you still do it)

But, if you don't feel comfortable writing about sh can you please write one also during the light out when dae-ho is on the look out and the reader is trying to sleep, but she's so scared of what's going to happen that she starts crying, he notices it, she has a panic attack and he pulls her to his lap comforting her (again really fluffy).

I'm almost one year clean so I was craving this kind of comfort, thank you <3

Your wish is my command 🫡 (sorry so cheesy)

Creature Comforts

Kang Dae-ho x reader

CW: mentions of self harm, please please do not read if you’re not comfortable with this!!, fluff and comfort

So happy to get this request - my first one!! Please send any in if you have them, I love writing them <3 And please message me if you’re having thoughts about SH or struggling with it at all, my DMs are always open 🩷

Masterlist | AO3

She looked so peaceful when she slept. She was curled up on the mattress beside where he was keeping guard, her chest rising and falling with each breath. It was mesmerising. Her hair was fanned out across the pillow, some straying into her face, strands lying delicately on her cheek. The lower half of her body was covered with a thin blanket, her top half cuddled into her jumper.

He had never seen her this calm. They had gotten close quickly in these games - the fear and horror acting as a catalyst for friendship - and he found himself getting protective over her fast. They’d first met after the first game, when Thanos and his lackey had approached her to join their little group, and he’d felt the inexplicable urge to tell him she was already spoken for. Surprisingly, she agreed with him quickly, saying she had already made her allies and hurried quickly away from that purple-haired joke. She thanked him wholeheartedly when they were out of earshot, confirming that there was something about him that made her uncomfortable so she appreciated being saved (her words, not his.) They had been inseparable since - sharing meals, sticking together in games, voting together, even bunking next to each other. When Gi-hun said that two people should always be keeping watch tonight, they didn’t even have to say they would take their shift together - it was just assumed.

But when the time came, he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up. She looked ethereal in the dim light of the room, her hair like a halo, the sound of her breathing a symphony to his ears. Soothing. He could watch her for hours, totally enthralled and at peace. His hand moved to brush a piece of hair from her face, feeling the softness of the lock between his fingers, fingertips lingering just a moment too long on the soft skin of her cheek. So he just sat beside her. He wasn’t tired yet; he could take her shift. Anything to protect her really. A few extra hours can be the difference between life and death here.

The rise and fall of her body suddenly changed rhythm, a deep sigh escaping her lips. She rolled over in her sleep to face him, and he held his breath, scared that the smallest shift might wake her. She settled back in quickly though, and he watched with a soft smile as her arms fell beside her body, head snuggling into the pillow.

He wanted to wake up like this every morning, hearing her gentle sighs and soft snores, to see the peace on her face before she woke. He had only known her a few days, but it felt like a lifetime when they spent every minute fearing for their life. He felt so unbelievably protective of her so fast. He didn’t think she was incapable of handling herself - she’d proven the opposite through this ordeal. But he didn’t want her to have to worry about that ever again. As soon as they were out of there, he would do anything to make sure she wasn’t scared ever again.

Her hair had fallen across her face again, and in the dim light, he worked carefully to move it, tucking it gently behind her ear. Then he noticed her blankets falling down a little, pooling around her waist, so he pulled it up to her shoulders. Then the cuff of her jacket was slipping, so he gently grabbed the fabric, moving to fix her sleeve, when he noticed something. There were a few scars there, barely noticeable in the dim light of the room, so he allowed his curiosity and protective nature get the better of him. Ever so cautiously, he slipped her sleeve down just a little, just enough to see the scars that littered her forearms. Some were newer than others, others long since healed, but they were unmistakable.

His heart hurt for her. Life in these games was hard enough, but he could only imagine what awaited her outside to have to…

He wasn’t sure what to do. If he addressed it, he might lose her trust. She might get embarrassed that he knew and withdraw. If he didn’t, and she somehow worked out that he knew, she would think he didn’t care.

It wasn’t something he understood completely - a few of his friends from the military struggled with self-harm, but he didn’t tend to ask them too many questions. They had PTSD, so maybe she had that too? Or something else that was making her hurt badly enough to… all he really knew was that she didn’t have any healthy avenues to alleviate her stress and emotion. He wanted to help, to hold her and tell her everything would always be okay around him, that she shouldn’t ever hurt herself again… but he knew that was condescending and naive. What he really needed to do was let her talk to him if he wanted, listen, and if there was anyway she wanted him to help, he would…

His plans were foiled though, as she woke slowly, eyes blinking open. He was lost in thought, fingers still hooked around her cuff, and he was frozen as her eyes widened, locking on her arms and where his skin was against her. She started to back away, shuffling quickly as she adjusted, fear taking over her features.

“What’re you…” she muttered quietly, pulling her sleeves back to her hands as tears started to form in her eyes.

“I’m sorry…” he blurted out quickly, face turning red. “You turned over and I saw something so I was curious, I didn’t mean to wake you I… I’m so sorry.” She had pulled her knees to her chest, shaking slightly. “Hey, listen to me, it’s ok, it’s all ok, I…” he slowed down when he realised she was crying, her whole body heaving with deep, pained breaths, her hands fisting the blankets around her. He muttered her name quietly, but she didn’t respond, her legs falling down as her breathing got more and more erratic.

Oh God, he’d ruined everything.

***

It had happened so quickly. One minute you were asleep, the next, you opened your eyes to see Dae-ho beside you. At first, you were happy just to see him, his face and demeanour and everything about him a comfort to you throughout this game. Then you noticed the way he was looking at you. A mixture of pain and confusion and worry was contorted across his face, and then you saw where he was looking.

Your sleeve must had rolled in your sleep, and he was looking at your now bare wrist, his fingers softly brushing against it. You snatched her arm away quickly, fear clouding your mind as you shuffled back.

He had seen.

Oh God, I’ve ruined everything.

There was no questioning that fact. He knew. One of your deepest secrets, one of the things you were most ashamed of. And now, the person you trusted most in here knew. What would he think? Would he view you differently? As weak? As insane? As someone who didn’t deserve to be here around people who wanted to live more than you?

All you had ever wanted was to be seen as normal. And however awful this place was, you finally had that. You had found someone who viewed you as an equal, an ally even. You weren’t the unstable girl who cut herself, or the friend no one could rely on due to unpredictable bouts of depression or anxiety, or the shitty daughter who kept to herself. You were helpful, normal even. But now?

You hadn’t noticed your breathing start to shallow until it was too late. Your vision started to go fuzzy, mind screaming that you’d let someone too close, that they would never see you the same and it was all your fault. Again.

You heard him call your name, but it felt far away, like you were trapped in a bubble and everything outside was muffled. You were paralysed with an inexplicable terror, tears streaming down your face.

Unsurprisingly, given where you were, it wasn’t the first time you’d had a panic attack in front of him. They’d been pretty consistent, after every game, during some, but now, somehow this was the worst. For some reason, someone truly knowing you was scarier than the prospect of looming death.

It took a while for your vision to come back into focus, and when it did, all you could see was his face.

“Hey, look at me, breathe, ok? Here…” he carefully placed his hand on yours, and when you didn’t pull away, picked it up and held it to his chest. “Follow my breaths, ok? In….” You did your best to follow along, stuttering slightly, but he smiled ever so softly even if you weren’t doing it perfectly. “Good, and out..” He repeated the motion a few times, and you followed until your breathing was steady enough to talk. “There we go.” He muttered gently, a hand straying to your face to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

“I’m so sorry, Dae-ho…” it was all you could choke out, already close to tears again, but he shushed you quickly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s none of my business, but I need you to know that I would never judge you… not for anything. Especially not for something that isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is, I…”

“It’s not. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault. You’re doing your best and I’m here for you. As long as you know that, that’s all that matters.” You were crying again, his words a comfort you had never heard before. Not a moment after the first tear fell his arms were around you, pulling you tight to him and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t even speak to thank him, so you squeezed his arm instead, feeling him smile into the top of your head. You had never felt so much kindness before, so much understanding… and maybe it said something about the people around you, but you couldn’t think about that. Right now, all you could think about was the way he was holding you close, the way his breaths aligned with yours, and the way he made you feel like everything was actually going to be ok.

[baksuz-art]

Hi there! I love your blog and wanted to share my feral son! This is Osiris, I found him in my garage a few years ago cold, afraid, and too feral to handle. With lots of love (and snacks) we have become good friends and now he lives with me and my other cats. He loves pets and snuggles and his toys. Keep doing your art! Osiris and I are big fans :)

(bonus pic of Momo contemplating his life while Osiris looms)

🥺 thank you so much for your sweet words! i'm very happy to hear that you and osiris enjoy looking at my blog! i hope it's at least half as much as i enjoyed reading your message and drawing this for you 🥹🖤

that last pic looks like it's taken from a cartoon, i swear 😂 it's a bit blurry tho, so i had to kinda guess mono's fur pattern; i hope i did okay 😅 but i also couldn't just skip that cute blep, so you get two pieces! it's just... too cute, look at that face! 🥺🖤 i'm glad you successfully bought osiris with some snacks hahaha 🖤 he looks so happy now! 😄

this is now one of my favourite drawings :3 but i made a fully b&w and a decluttered version too, just in case:

have a great day! 😄🖤

reblogs are greatly appreciated!🐾

[baepsays]

Birthday Traditions . happy birthday Geto Suguru :3

It is the longest and oldest tradition for Suguru to get soba noodles with his closest people, his loved ones the night before his birthday. And when the clock strikes 12 am, and it is officially 3rd February, they go back to one of their places and celebrate. But in recent years a new tradition has become his favorite birthday tradition. 

His favorite tradition is relatively new; it is comparably more recent than getting soba with his friends, and to have Satoru try to steal noodles from his portions as Nanami scolds Satoru, while everyone laughs at the ordeal. 

He liked traditions, rituals and habits. Patterns he could comfortably fall back into, people he could rely on without hesitation— but it is not that he is the most keen on new things. Though it was an entirely different story when he celebrated his 22nd birthday with you, it was the first birthday he spent with you. Back then you two had just met, in fact it was particularly that day he first met you. Now he thinks it was a birthday gift from the universe itself (he deserved it after all the shit universe has put him through.)

Suguru did not have plans for that particular birthday, except for the soba plans, which also fell through when no one could make it because of finals, and then also Satoru's mother got sick so he had a lot on his plate. He was not even expecting them to reschedule, but they did somehow visit him with a surprise birthday cake at the end of the day. But before that when he was mulling over the fact he had to spend his birthday all by himself, it just added onto the waves of despair he has been going through recently. So despite it all, he decided to go out and get soba my himself that night before it was officially his birthday. 

And after paying for his meal on his way out of the shop, he saw a person drop their wallet by the door while walking out—that's when he met you. He ran after you, and like any normal person you got spooked by a 6 feet tall man running after you with some sort of urgency and made a run for you safety. Took him a while, and a lot of explaining to make you realize he is not some creep, but actually just trying to return your wallet. 

As hilarious the entire interaction was to him, he understood when you profusely apologized to him, evidently embarrassed. So he didn't deny you when you offered to repay him back for his generosity. 

“How about you accompany me to the park and get some ice cream with me? I'd call it even then.” 

And that's how Suguru's favorite birthday tradition started. Going on a stroll when the clock strikes 12.00 AM on the third of February, when it is officially his birthday, and have you buy him ice cream. The one and only time he does not fight you to his death to not let you pay, or manhandles you into being unable to reach for the bill— is when you two go out to get him his birthday ice cream.

Which is definitely his favorite birthday tradition, though as sweet as the ice cream may be, it's the little whispers of  ‘happy birthday baby’ and little pecks throughout the day which are sweetest to him.

a/n: dividers by @/omi-resources. AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS WITH DISORDER <3

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

FEEL FREE TO SEND ASKS ABOUT ANYTHING AND LEAVE A COMMENT WITHIN MY BOUNDARIES I WOULD MUCH APPRECIATE THEM <3

tag list: @madamechrissy @cuntphoric @moonlitwitchdaisy @rriwyu @arcanarix @lover-lyn @suuguchan

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

Ask game here!!! ^^^ (I’m on IPad so it looks like this unfortunately 😭)

(Oh gosh three asks asking me about the same character (I’ll just put them together and answer it as a singular post!))

(Also this turned out way longer than I’ve expected so I’m gonna put a cut here!! To save scrolling time!!)

FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

Probably how open Smitten is with his emotions!!! He feels so so much with his whole heart and I really love how he’s not afraid to share them! He is a really honest and earnest character and I don’t really see him lying in any way (and if he does, he’d probably do a really terrible job at it because of how he wears his heart on his sleeve andnsjsm). I can’t help but feel that his earnestness is something worth admiring!

Oh! And of course of how gentle he can be! Despite his bravado he really knows how to lift someone up with his soft words. He can see how someone is hurting and would attempt to lift them up by reminding them that they are loved and is worth loving. I especially love him in Thorn because of this reason. He’s really just love personified (even if it’s towards his own deterrent (don’t do that Smitten))

Also also! I love the way he speaks! He’s so dramatic with his speech patterns that it gives me the giddiest feeling whenever I hear him speak. His princely flair got me alright… he’s so cute,,,.,,…

AND!!! How he subverts the expectations of how love is a purely good thing!!! Love can hurt really really bad as well as heal!! Both the giver and the receiver!!!! And how he is a representation of using fantasy as a coping mechanism!!! He has a lot!!! Of stuff!!!!

(Ik it said “favourite thing about them (singular)” but I can’t help but give him appreciation by yapping)

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

(I do have some things to say about that despite you occupying 90% of my brain space Smitten </3 it’s out of love tho I promy…)

To mirror what I’ve said at the beginning, it’s of how self-sacrificing he is. My guy has zero self-preservation and self-love despite being the personification of love and emotion. He would literally die for the one he loves and like,,,, NO!!!! SMITTY!!!! SOME PEOPLE WOULD WANT YOU TO LIVE!!!! FOR THEM!!!! SOME PEOPLE WOULD TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOUR DEVOTION!!!!! DONT DO IT!!!! SHAKING YOU ON THE SHOULDERS /AFF

FAVORITE LINE

He has a lot of great lines tbh sbsnsjs

A lot of them are really good, but I just, can’t remember a lot of them, so I’ll just put down those that I actually remember

“My wrath will echo the depths of my bereavement.”

“If we just showed her the contents of our heart... She'd be happy here." ABSOLUTE CHILLS

“YOU SMARMY ASS”

"By cruelly turning on the Princess on her moment of vulnerability we made ourselves an enemy. But, by mastering our fear and insecurity and handing over our power, we've begun a journey to something so much deeper"

BROtp

Smitten and Skeptic! As well as Smitten and Stubborn!!

The Heart and The Head!! The Grey Brothers have a special place in my heart… They’re like the two people who’s really different from each other but enjoys each other’s company regardless of that difference. They balance each other out rather nicely despite them never meeting each other officially in game: like, Skeptic could teach Smitten to think before he act on his own emotions and be more sceptical of the intentions of other people, while Smitten could encourage Skeptic to feel with his heart! I see Skeptic as the type of person to have a hard time empathising with other people and would rely heavily on his logic to help solve the problem for them instead of simply listening to them (he cares, just doesn’t know how to do it in a way that’s unfamiliar to him/not his nature), so I think having Smitten be there to teach him how to do that would help him greatly. They would probably understand each other in the ending where TLQ kills Shifty’s heart and becomes a god himself, since Skeptic knows what’s it like to not have a grounding presence to catch him (for Smitten it’s the Princess). Him and Cheated would comfort Smitten during those times.

And here’s Beauty and Brawn! Aside from their shared appreciation for the Princess, they are also both really passionate characters who are extremely open with their emotions. Smitten would appreciate Stubborn’s showcase of passion towards the Princess, while Stubborn would see strength and potential in Smitten as an opponent! Stubborn would probably rather head straight ahead towards violence instead of using words like Smitten does, but he likes the guy so what the hell

Stubborn would try to get Smitten to fight him, but Smitten just, doesn’t fight him simply because being violent is really not in his nature (unless Stubborn intentionally gloats him into fighting him)

They would be the duo that hugs and cries together whenever there’s a touching scene playing in a movie

OTP

You already know,,..,,,, (it’s Burned Bridges)

Funnily enough the infamous Burned Grey lines aren’t the reason why I ship them in the first place

It’s the fact that I remembered a line Cold had said about Smitten would one day want the emotions to go away completely despite how strongly those emotions burn at the current moment , and then telling him to trust him on it.

It just. Reveals so much about Cold as a character.

Not only does it imply that Cold isn’t completely emotionless as he oh so often tells us that he is, and that he had felt strong emotions at one point but had chosen to repress them completely due to how much it had hurt him, but it also reveals that he doesn’t seem to hold the same animosity towards Smitten as the other way around (at least, not the level of hatred Smitten holds for him),as he actually gave him advice on the subject matter. He seems to be more amused by Smitten then anything. Burned Grey is a route where Smitten was denied of his purpose with us deciding to kill the Princess, and Cold’s whole thing is about his purpose being denied, and hence the numbing ache in his heart that he desperately wants to fill. So I feel like he would probably understand Smitten in that regard of having his purpose denied. He just, find Smitten’s anger really freaking amusing due to the fact that Smitten is usually really chipper. And also the fact that Anger is the rawest emotion there is.

They would definitely start on rough terms though. With Smitten actually fulfilling his promise on letting Cold feel what he had felt (via hurting Cold) and Cold just becoming more and more interested in how far Smitten would go in his pursuit of vengeance. How far would he go? How low would he stoop? He would love to know, and so he would gloat him more and more and see how he would react.

But knowing Smitten, he would probably get really tired of hurting Cold over and over again. He is. Just not a violent person at heart. His starring chapter two is literally one of the three routes that doesn’t have a chapter one that ends with violence(it technically does but you know what I mean(Damsel, Prisoner, Stranger)). Eventually it would reach a point where he would just tiredly tell Cold off without it ending with violence, and that would make Cold feel surprised about the change in his usual pattern of behaviour. I’d like to think that Cold would be the person to reach Smitten out to soothe him on his hollowness and aimlessness when Smitten would deny him over and over until he eventually lets Cold do his thing (heavily influenced by @pink-november ‘s fic btw) and Smitten coming to a realisation that Cold might not be as emotionless as he thought… and then the two deciding to start over on their relationship and become friends… and then learning that wait, they’re actually quite similar… and then they unknowingly fall for each other for real the more time they spend with each other…. oughhhhh slowburn Burned Bridges my beloved

“Who needs violence when you have love?”

“Who needs love when you’ve mastered yourself?”

Also also, fire and ice, pink and black, pillow and blanket, “hero” and “villain” (but not really), emotional doofus and stoic fella????? ENEMIES TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS SLOWBURN?????? That’s a lot of stuff!!!! (And the comedic whiplash of “GRRRR I HATE YOU!!!!” to them cuddling together is just. Really funny to me ok.)

Again, this ship can either go down an even more toxic route then it already is (yummy toxic yaoi) or it could become something really fluffy and tender. It really depends on what direction the writer wants the ship to go. I’m fine with either though. Both are really fun routes.

NOtp

I don’t really have a NOtp for him tbh,,..,,,,.

RANDOM HEADCANON

I’ve already said this in another post, but I’d like to imagine Smitten would abuse nicknames and name the voices with the positive qualities he sees in them. Also this is a headcanon for the Voices in general, but I’d like to think that he’d struggle acting away from his nature. Much like the Vessels, the Voice’s nature is all they knew. A part of him would always yearn for the presence of the Princess, since she was literally who he was made to love and dote upon. Even though he would feel genuinely happy that TLQ had found his one true love, a part of him would always feel that emptiness She had left behind, and his heart would ache more and more. Broken in Apotheosis had proven that the Voices can in fact grow their perspective and in turn become more complex, so I feel like Smitten would definitely have his own arc as well once the Voices learn to become their own person and not just a singular facet of TLQ (and especially Oppy and Cold but this ain’t about them).

Smitten would be really affectionate with his show of affection (depends on Voice to Voice though!!!! He wouldn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable). If you ask him which showcase of affection his likes most, he would tell you that he loves all shows of affection equally! Love is love and should be showed proud and loud across your heart! He’s the type of guy to casually give platonic smooches on the cheeks (again, depends on Voice to Voice—if the Voice is uncomfortable with smooches, he’d probably just do a handshake or something). He doesn’t really put a line in love. To him, love is just that—love. There is no need to put a line between platonic, familial and romantic love. As long as the parties are comfortable with how that love is expressed, there is no problem!

Also can we all agree he would write the corniest love songs ever?? Thanks (Cold would be amused by him and listens to Smitten perform despite his comment on the corniness of it all ahahahahah anyway)

UNPOPULAR OPINION

I can agree on Smitten not being a d!ck but saying Smitten is completely harmless and lacks any malicious intent is where I have to disagree. I dunno if this is an unpopular opinion though.

Him wanting to hurt someone in the name of love IS malicious intent despite the motivation. And he has proven that can AND will do what he had said that he would do with him literally killing us after we killed Damsel for seemingly no reason. He is love as much as he is emotional.

Also he seems to care more about how you AND the Princess feels more then his own opinions. He reads as a people pleaser to me. He genuinely just wants you and the Princess to be happy, but then that mixing with his own perception that he is supposed to be the knight in shining armour for the Princess makes for a weird complex.

SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH THEM

We Become We, but specifically that one part of the song with HEA Smitten. I do love me some angst.

(Again sorry about the format!!!!!)

Full song: https://youtu.be/hRllUeany_Q?si=AJHdP-dJUHdf-r30

That one part: https://youtu.be/mwnXg6GXCk8?si=G1hzN_EG93ulKAhN

FAVOURITE PICTURE OF THEM

Ohohohohoh I have a couple of those teehee

(I love it when I just draw him like a ball)

[sysig]

You’ve caught my Wandering Eye ♥ (Patreon)

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Thinking about how people tend to pick up on specific words from other languages they're learning (especially slang) and use it over and over, like Pac saying "Shenanigans" or Fit saying "Fofoca" or Phil (and the rest of the server practically) saying "No Mames."

It just reminds me of my time working with Japanese college students, and how they all suddenly started saying "Awesome!" practically every other sentence one day after hearing me say it + explaining what it meant to them. It still makes my heart melt a bit thinking about it.

[vohtaro]

obkb for @madablues for his birthday !!! the gift ofc is a lot of snakes + obito Struggling (tm)

[library--fairy]

12. laughter for AuRaApril and 12. treasure for VieraprilJust a lil sketchy for today <3 <3 laughing around a table full of delicious food is the real treasure hehe

[forhyune]

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s), they're hopelessly in love your honor / warnings・suggestive in minho's and jisung's, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is a little gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny ���stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date. 

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

han turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath.  your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and han look at each other, sigh. han takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole table goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice.

“you’re so fucking sexy, holy shit.”

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before from curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. “something like that.” there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck. 

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence. 

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips. 

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade. 

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles, face scrunching into a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss to your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm. 

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of a mouth and launches into that stupid elderly cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures. you rip the orange from your lips.

“yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the sides of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the outside of the orange again. “ih ih eawhin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

“huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[itsalwaysdark]

and also it doesnt even matter if i miraculously get a job tmrw bc we don't have a car . and im too out of shape to walk anywhere bc everything is far away . so i genuinely dont jnow what to do

[ichigosoju]

🍡

[yujateaandpi]

Gravity Falls Thirty More Years AU and Art Masterlist

Here's all the pages of the comic in order plus some of the other GF stuff I've made. I'll keep updating this list to make it easy on y'all.

Edit: I have a new tagging system! All asks will be tagged #thirtymoreyearsau without spaces, and all comics and fic updates will be tagged #thirty more years au with spaces. If you want the whole story together, then you can filter using this tag on my account! Filtered link here.

If you like the comic and would like to support it, here’s my tip jar! Donations also appreciated for this family's fundraiser!

Thirty More Years AU Comic:

Page 1

Pages 2 and 3

Page 4

Page 5

Page 6

Page 7

Pages 8 and 9

Page 10

Pages 11 and 12

Pages 13 and 14

Prequel Multiverse Mini Comic

Epistolary Prequel Companion/ Dipper's Diary Entries:

"Dear Mabel, I Miss You"

Answers to Common Questions:

What is the Thirty Years AU?

A Gravity Falls fan story and comic about what would happen if Mabel and Ford both fall into a leftover multiverse rift at the end of summer. They experience a week of silly adventures but return to a world where 30 years have passed and Dipper + co have aged without them. Told as both a comic and a companion fic.

2. How old are the characters?

Answer

3. When does the story take place relative to the show?

Answer

4. Where's Bill?

Answer

5. Where else can I read the comic? Will you distribute it on a site?

Releasing it on my Instagram (but Tumblr gets the pages earlier cause y'all are special). As for releasing it on a site, answer here.

6. How many pages/ how long will the comic approximately be?

Subject to change, but here's my answer for now.

7. How often will you post/ when will you post again?

Here's my answer for now, but if there's delays between posts please don't spam me with questions on when I'll post again. The updates will come when they come and I'm trying to keep this flexible.

8. Is this Drifting Stars AU/ Other Similar AU?

Answer

9. Someone's reposting on TikTok/ Other social media! Are you okay with this?

No, and please report them if you can. Answer here.

11. Will you tag me/ make a tag list?

Answer

12. Why haven't you answered my question?

Answer

13. What art program/ brushes do you use?

Answer

Other Fanart

Twin Glare^2

Kitten Sweater

Pines Pines Pines

Happy Birthday Twins

Gravity Falls The Odyssey AU

Sona Shenanigans

Fiddleford to the rescue

mystery trio eizouken

twins in time mini comic

F-fiddlestan…🥺

Stan Pines Mini Character Analysis Essays

Apparently I do this a lot, so collecting them in one place:

Poll thots

Rough and tumble little Stanley

Stan Appreciation

that magic 8 ball man…

off topic Billford thots

off topic Fiddleford thots

off topic Fiddlestan thots

off topic Emma May thots

[physalian]

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Or

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

—

These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

[energ00n]

[PLEASE READ]

APPRENTICE AU MASTERPOST

-> PLEASE READ BEFORE SENDING ASK or risk getting blocked by asking me the same thing for the 100th time

If you're interested in the AU, let this be your guide. I suck at writing but I'll do my very best. Just a warning this is LONG and I'll probably update it as I go.

I. What is Apprentice AU?

Setting

Apprentice AU takes place in a timeline where all the original Thirteen Primes are ALIVE. They're the rightful rulers of Cybertron and each takes charge of an aspect in their society (religion, military, economy, etc...) keeping everything running.

To be efficient with this, they take bots themselves deem exceptional under their wings and train those into worthy leaders for Cybertron. And potentially, a new Prime.

Fun fact: Only one bot has achieved Primacy through apprenticeship and it's Sentinel Prime.

2. Story

The AU mostly revolve around Orion Pax and D-16, specifically their growing relationship while being Apprentices of Prima Prime and Megatronous Prime, respectively.

Some art and comic I've made of them:

First meeting - First greeting

Chatter - Pastime - Watchful eyes

Orion's upgrade (< context)

Lord High Protector

Fanwork

Fandub

Fanfic

An Apprentice’s (Unofficial) Guide to House Garments

To see only art, use the tag #apprentice_au

Ask tag for filter is #ask_ene

II. What entails being an Apprentice?

Role

A bot can only have 1 Prime as their mentor, thus wholeheartedly devote to that Prime's purpose. During the apprenticeship, the bot will learn all their Prime offers and graduate once they are ready to contribute to Cybertron.

Example:

Prima is in charge of the Religious aspect -> Orion learns of ritual and duties that help with the church

Megatronous is in charge of Cybertron's military -> D-16 is trained to be a warrior/soldier

2. Garment

Once becoming a Prime's apprentice, you are obligated to adorn their House's garment. Mostly consist of one primary colour of the Prime and an accent colour + accessories.

^^^ All designs shown thus far ^^^

*Regarding Nexus: Nexus' garment consist on a golden visor with a star on the right eye. The Visor can come in any frame!! Not just the one showed above

All the garments are considered extreme honour, a blessing that reminds the apprentices of their devotion to their Prime mentors

There's a little made up rule between the Apprentices that only your special somebot can touch your garment, consider how important it is. Like a forbidden peck on the lips if you will.

╔══ •- Popular Questions -• ══╗

***Asks are now being filtered, you can look up the topic you want by #ask_topic (example: #ask_prima)

character asks will be #ask_character+name (characters that haven't appeared will be #ask_char)

anything about the world/setting is #ask_system

anything about my boundaries is #ask_boundary

"Where isBee in the AU? Whose apprentice is he?"

He WILL APPREAR. Eventually.

I have answered about him in the past quite a few times too. The AU is still in its very early stage I want to have fun with DPax first before having to learn how to draw other characters, it's tedious work whenever I need to draw a new mech.

2. "Why are Orion and D-16 cogless?"

This is still not thoroughly thought out but a lot of bots do not come online with their cogs. These cogs are later given to them by an older figure in a maturity ceremony.

3. "How are the Apprentices chosen?"

Vibes

4. "Are the High Guard still there?"

Yes. They're intact and is mainly under Megatronous Prime's command. Starscream, Shockwave and Soundwave are D-16's personal trainers since Megatronous has expressed his hope that D will lead the High Guard someday.

Starscream isn't happy so he's a particular harsh trainer to D but he'll be a good guardian figure when D needs him to be. D has a nice friendship with Soundwave

5. "How is X in this AU?"

Most of the time, I will have no idea who you're talking about. I'm super new to Transformers. I would be very appreciative if you'd give me a pic, tell me a short description of the character and maybe suggestion on what trope they might play (anatagonist, mentor, etc...). Information is always welcome.

Please don't ask me about other Primes aside from Prima, Megatronous, Sentinel and Zeta only when it's Sentinel related. Most of it I consider as spoilers. Once again tho, info and suggestions about them would be nice.

Alpha Trion would be fine too but there's nothing much to say about him.

6. "I don't have a question just want to say I like your art <3" "Remember to take care of yourself/take rest!"

Much as I appreciate the notion, I get these wayyyy too often and it's clogging up the inbox. I'd prefer it if you guys keep it in the comment and only send them in as asks if it gets too long

Also very weirdly but being reminded to take care of myself is kinda irksome to me, I rather not keep hearing it.

7. "Can we draw fanart/write fanfic/make our own OCs for the AU?"

On my knees, please do and pleaseeeeeee link me if you do, I want to see all that my stupid AU inspired. Tho I do have a few boundaries:

Dpax/Megop and Prima/Megatronous are SOLID. Please don't ship them with anyone else. Strict one-sided from others is fine tho! (ex: Bee has a one-sided crush on Orion)

Bottom Orion and top D-16 only

Orion is Prima's only Apprentice

Thank you all for reading!

[hsnlv]

jake! is the type to…

pairing: boyfriend!jake x fem!reader

warnings/others: fluff!!, there’s also smut so scroll if uncomfortable!!

a/n: hi, im back (not really lol) but ive been really busy with college lately so i dont really have time to update :( but i hope you’ll enjoy this💗 reblogs and comments are highly appreciated🎀 here’s my masterlist!

jake! is the type to lie to you for no reason at all because he always craves for your attention and he loves being babied :(

“baby, i swear it hurts!” his pout deepens as you roll your eyes for the umpteenth time now, his fingers playing with his bottom lip.

ridiculous, really. he told you that he fell down the floor and his lips hit the floor or something and he needs a kiss from you.

“jake, you’re fine,” you deadpan, crossing your arms.

“i’m not fine!” he whines dramatically, leaning closer. “my lip is throbbing, throbbing, and you don’t even care…”

his exaggerated sulking makes you stifle a laugh, but you shake your head. “you’re unbelievable.”

“you don’t love me,” he mumbles under his breath, flopping back on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “my lip is falling off, and you won’t even give me one tiny kiss to save me.”

your resolve falters at his pitiful expression, his big, pleading eyes locked on yours. with a sigh, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his bottom lip.

“better now?” you ask softly.

he grins instantly, his arms sneaking around your waist. “so much better. but… maybe one more?”

jake! is the type to always appreciate the little gifts you make though they are stupid sometimes. his mama raised him too well!

“here,” you say, holding out a small keychain you made. It’s uneven, the beads don’t quite match, and the tiny heart you drew on it is smudged—but you couldn’t help yourself.

jake takes it with a gasp, his eyes lighting up as if you’d just handed him the most precious treasure in the world. “you made this for me?”

“yeah, but it’s kind of ugly, isn’t it?” you mumble, suddenly shy.

“are you kidding?” he exclaims, turning it over in his hands like it’s priceless. “this is perfect. look at the little heart! and you picked my favorite color for the beads! baby, this is amazing.”

you laugh, watching as he immediately clips it onto his bag. “you don’t have to use it, you know.”

“of course I’m using it!” he says, beaming. “every time I see it, I’ll think of you. it’s my new good luck charm.”

he leans over to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “you’re the best, you know that?”

jake! is the type to get jealous over the smallest things too because he’s a big baby who wants your attention for him and himself only!!! :(

“you were laughing a lot back there,” jake mutters, slumping onto the couch with a pout.

you glance at him, confused. “what are you talking about?”

“with him,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “you looked so happy. giggling and all…”

“him?” you blink, wracking your brain. “jake, what are you—wait.” your eyes land on layla, his fluffy golden retriever, sprawled happily on the floor after you’d been showering her with belly rubs and baby talk for the past ten minutes. “are you jealous of your dog?”

he flushes instantly but doesn’t back down, his pout deepening. “you were giving her so much attention. i’m right here, and all I got was a ‘hi, babe.’”

“jake…” you laugh, sitting beside him. “are you serious right now?”

“yes! you even said she was the cutest thing ever. what about me?” he huffs, looking every bit like a sulky child.

“you’re ridiculous,” you tease, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “you’ll always be my cutest, okay?”

his frown melts into a satisfied grin, and he pulls you closer. “good. but no more calling Layla ‘cutie.’ that’s my title.”

jake! is the type to always joke around a lot but he knows tooooo well how to comfort you with his words and gestures whenever you’re in doubt of yourself <3

“why do you even put up with me?” you mumble, staring down at your hands as doubt creeps into your chest. “i’m not… i don’t think i’m enough sometimes.”

the room grows quiet for a moment—so quiet you almost wish he’d crack one of his usual jokes to lighten the mood. but instead, jake kneels in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

“hey,” he says softly, tilting his head to meet your gaze. his eyes hold none of his usual teasing—just warmth and sincerity. “where’s all this coming from, baby?”

you hesitate, shrugging. “i don’t know… i just feel like I’m not doing enough. or being enough.”

his hands tighten around yours, and he shakes his head. “don’t say that. you’re more than enough, okay? you’re everything. you’re smart, you’re kind, and you make every single day better just by being you.”

you sniffle, feeling tears well up, but jake smiles, leaning closer. “besides, if you weren’t perfect, how could you have me wrapped around your finger like this, huh?”

you laugh through the tears, and he grins, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “there’s that smile.” he slowly lays you down on the bed, his hands caressing your waist delicately. “now, how about i remind you of how perfect you are?”

jake! is the type to be the sweetest in bed!! always whispering sweet things to you while he’s fucking you so delicately as if you’re a glass that can break anytime soon.

“you’re perfect,” he whispers, his forehead pressed gently against yours, his breath warm on your skin. his hands move over you like he’s memorizing every curve, every inch, as though you’re something sacred.

“i love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but heavy with emotion, his lips brushing against yours in fleeting, delicate kisses. his movements are slow, careful, as if you’re made of glass—fragile and precious, something he wants to protect and cherish. but god, does he know how to make you feel so fucking good.

“does it feel good, baby?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, his eyes searching yours while his hips are moving with a steady pace. his cock is moving in and out of your sweet little cunt, making him biting his lips hard to make sure he doesn’t cum too soon from how fucking good you feel around him. “hm? my sweet girl deserves to feel good, yeah? fuck—”

his hands hold you firmly yet tenderly, pulling you closer, keeping you grounded in him. “look at me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing your cheek as he gazes at you like you’re his whole world. “there’s no one else, nothing else—just you. you’re everything to me.”

he hisses at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock. it feels as if you were made for him and him only. the way he fits so perfectly in you, the way he never gets bored of the feeling of you around him, both cunt and mouth wise. the way your moan sounds so good in his ears that it can seriously be his lullaby to put him to sleep. the way he can practically see heaven whenever he’s fucking you.

“doing so good for me, yeah?” he cooes, brushing the strands of hair that sticks on your forehead. fuck! he swears he can cum only by the sight of you panting and squirming underneath him. the feeling of his tip constantly abusing your sweet spot in the most delicious way ever makes you let out a small whimper alongside with a soft ‘jakey…’, making him groan against your neck as he breathes in your sweet sweet scent.

“atta girl. come for me, baby. you look so fucking pretty like this…” the feeling of his warm release coats your wall, his breathing heavy and hard, his grip on your thighs are firm as he tries to ground himself hard.

with him, it’s more than physical—it’s a connection, a reminder that you are seen, loved, and treasured completely.

“my sweet girl deserves one more, yeah?” he says before he starts to move again, his cock twitching.

jake! is the type to pamper you with small kisses, caresses and praises for aftercare, making sure you will always feel loved— before, during and after your intimate moments together!

“how’re you feeling, baby?” he whispers, his voice tender as his fingers gently comb through your hair. he cradles you close, like you’re the most precious thing in the world, his warmth wrapping around you like a safety net.

before you can even answer, his lips find your forehead, lingering there for a moment before planting a trail of tiny kisses along your temple, your cheeks, your nose, and finally the corner of your mouth. “did so well for me,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice so soft it makes your heart ache. “so good, so pretty, hm?”

he pulls the blanket over both of you, tucking you in snugly while his hands wander your back in the gentlest strokes. “you’re perfect, baby. so perfect,” he says, his tone full of awe as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. “i don’t think i’ll ever stop being in love with you.”

he grabs a water bottle and holds it up to your lips, grinning when you take a sip. “good girl,” he says softly, pressing another kiss to your hair.

and just when you think he’s done, he starts whispering sweet nothings, his lips brushing against your ear. “thank you for trusting me. thank you for being mine. i’ll never stop taking care of you, okay?”

his kisses and praises don’t stop, his hands constantly finding yours to lace your fingers together, his every word reminding you how loved you are.

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