#this was the best place you could find???

[thanosscross]

HII I REALLY LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH, i hope your willing to write about pregnant reader x thanos yk, thanos didn't know she was pregnant before they break up and then they meet up again the games and he finds out player 222 and player 333 type stuff 😭

Of course! We love this!!

Good person - Choi Su- Bong x pregnant! reader

Summary: After leaving Thanos, you encounter him again in a serious death game, only this time the stakes are lot higher

Warnings: Not much, just your usual squid game gore

A/n: Sorry it's so short! I'm going to try and start adding some length to my stories again especially my Thanos stories so stay tuned for those longer stories, trust me they are coming, they're just takin a lil time

You had told yourself whenever you signed up, you'd be as careful as possible, and that it was all for your baby, after leaving their father and being disowned for choosing to be single mother, you were left with little to nothing, so of course you took the chance to get money.

As you woke up in the giant room you soon came to regret your decision, seeing your sperm donor just a few feet in front of you, focused on the screen reading off debts "Y/n L/n, 25 million won" The guard shouted, showing you getting smacked across the face, quickly holding an arm over your stomach afterwards. Almost like he knew, as soon as your name was called out, his head snapped to yours "Senorita! You're here!?" He shouted in shock "No Way!" He shouted as he walked closer, you attempted to curl your body up away from him, but due to the six month pregnancy belly, you could only bend your legs closer to you slightly.

"Please leave, Thanos" You grunted, trying your best to keep him at a distance, for all he knew you had taken a plan B after your last hook up and that was it. Instead he just kept approaching until he was standing in front of you "What're you doing here!?" He asked excited, you just shook your head "trying to get my family and I money after my sorry excuse of a boyfriend convinced me to buy stupid ass crypto?" You said like it was obvious, it wasn't like you were entirely lying, you just didn't specify what family.

Going into red light green light, you were cocky at first, knowing you could do this easy, until the shooting started, players falling left and right, while your baby dad just skipped and danced his way to you down the field "You never answered me, Senorita" He repeated, placing his hands on your hips, terrified of what he might do, especially after watching him shove other players to win "I-I'm pregnant" You blurted, you couldn't help it, between your fear of dying by Thanos or the game was too much, you just wanted to get out of this alive, you didn't think it'd be this serious, if you did, you never would've done this. "Haha" He laughed sarcastically before looking at your face as the doll called out red light, he was in front of you now, and you were visibly shaking, Thanos using his body to try and shield you from the sensors "for real, flower?" He asked, his tone a lot more deep and raspy, you could tell he sobered up quick upon the realization you weren't joking. "I-I forgot the pill after hooked up a few months ago! a-and I left because I knew you couldn't be a responsible dad" You blurted, unable to contain your emotions as the hormones in your body were on overdrive.

Thanos was frozen, staring at you in shock before finally snapping out of it as the doll called green light, he grabbed your arm holding you behind him as he followed the others past the red line "Just stay behind me" He whispered, your words stung, how could you be so sure of how he'd be as a dad if you never gave him a chance? As you made your way back to the giant main room, you took notice to Thanos's hand on your back leading you to the bed "Sit, you don't put yourself through too much" He explained softly, helping you over to your bunks before eyeing Nam-Gyu "Give her your bed, man" he demanded, his friend stuttering before giving up and giving you his bed that was floor level, him taking your third bunk bed. "Thanos" You warned, not wanting him to make it a huge deal "What?! You're huge! You don't need to be climbing!" He shouted before catching his tone, apologizing quietly "Okay, well One, that was very very rude, two, I can do whatever I please, if I feel like I can't do something, I'll tell you" You stated poking him in the chest with your finger, he just smirked at you, biting his bottom lip slightly "Have I ever told you, it's hot whenever you yell at me" he asked, trying his best to charm you, but instead you just flicked his forehead in annoyance "Get away, freak" You replied, he just smiled at you, sitting at the foot of your bunk "So it's my baby?" He asked smiling pointing to your stomach "Well, if not I'd be concerned" You said raising your eyebrows at him "Can I..touch it?.." He asked nervously "it's not an it, it's your daughter" you glared, before grabbing his hand slipping it under your jacket, pressing his finger down in just the right spot to get the small baby inside of you to move around "Woah..weird" He said grimacing as he pulled away in disgust "Really!?" You gasped in shock laughing loudly, somehow forgetting you were in a death game for a moment "Yea! You have a whole human inside of you! That's weird!" He laughed, resting his hand on yours "You put it there, Su-bong!" You argued, you swore sometimes you got with a completely dumbass.

"Y/n..If you'll let me...I wanna be there..I don't want to be like my dad" He frowned, squeezing your hand gently "Please?" He begged "I know I fucked up bad, but, I want to try again, please" He continued, you glared at him for a moment before sighing "How can I trust you? And you'll have to get clean, for real clean, not how you're usually clean" You added on, you just watched as he nodded his head, no faces or complaints "You're actually serious aren't you?..." you asked sweetly "I want to be a good person for you, y/n, please" He whispered, pressing his lips to your knuckles "I guess..but you only get one chance" You offered, he just nodded before flopping himself next to you "Thank you!" He cheered pressing multiple kisses all over your face as he chanted his thank you's, not realizing the next 18-19 years were going to be hell for the both of you.

The rest of the games, Thanos was always on you, making sure you didn't over do yourself or risk hurting yourself or your baby, charming you right back into his arms.

--

Taglist!!

@acehasmyheart

@corrdelia

@ag022123

[midnite-c6]

Omg so I just LOVED the fics that you wrote about thanos and namgyu soo I wanted to ask can you like write more fics about them in like threesome degrading tf out of us so much that we cannot even think of anything or maybe like a second part for timid!reader THAT ONE WAS AMAZING!!!! keep up w your work btw its really good 😭🙏🏻

help thank you😭😭 honestly i love writing abt them i jus.. meow...

thanos & nam-gyu imagine pt. 4!! 🤤

warnings: 18+ DARK content, drugging, dubcon (read at ur own riskk!!)

they both believe you can't fight for yourself since you're so quiet, so they do their best to keep you safe!! they're so kind despite their nature!! you think to urself..., and despite the way they used your body after the six legged race, you still stick with them since they helped you in mingle too!! honestly, thanos and nam-gyu would've thought you'd be getting away from them after that incident, so by you staying, they've confirmed they've got you right in their trap!!

thanos looks up from his food, his eyes lighting up when he sees you "señorita?" he tilts his head, "i don't have any other group to eat with.." you say, looking down at your feet, "nooo! i know what it is!" he nudges nam-gyu's shoulder, "you're here for more aren't you?" he says with that smirk again, dramatically gasping. "what..no.." you weren't like that, you swear! nam-gyu laughed "shit, she's just using our bodies, man!" you quickly shake your head "no!" nam-gyu tilts his head "when did you learn to say no?" thanos stands up, getting closer to you, "listen here, beautiful, we'll do whatever you want, sure.. you're the one in-charge." he smiled 'innocently', leaning in to whisper in your ear "c'mere after lights out, kay?"

nsfw below.. (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/

"you really are a fucking whore." thanos quietly whispers into your ear as he slams in and out of you, your back pressed against his chest, your moans being muffled by his hand, it was a good thing thanos' bed was closer to the ground and that the players above him were already dead, but you know the other players could still hear the faint squeaking of his mattress. "of course you'd listen like a slut, coming here, infact, you were excited for this. hmm?" why DID you go there anyway? ..maybe it did feel good? but poor you! his thrusts weren't giving you any mercy at all.

"i bet.. you don't have any shame at all. you're quietness is just an act.." nam-gyu whispered aswell, with his body infront of you, his hands exploring every inch of your skin, painfully pinching your nipples and biting your neck as you rub your hand in and out of his cock. "you're practically begging for it." "n-n.." you couldn't speak back because of that purple-haired addict's hand!

"wait.. fuuuck, you're sucking me in like crazy, you're gonna cut my dick off, god." thanos whined, putting in two fingers inside your mouth, the taste of his fingers all over your tongue.

"y'knoww.. so fucking funny how she's volunteered to be our personal ..stress toy." nam-gyu's hand find it's way to thanos' necklace filled with ecstacy, he grabs a pill, his attention back on you "we truly thank you for that.. are you proud of your services, freak?" he says mockingly just to spite you, his other hand grabs thanos' hand muffling your mouth. "let go, dude." "she's gonna scream," "nah, nah, she won't. she doesn't wanna die does she?" you whined, shaking your head. "good, slut." nam-gyu smiled, taking the pill he had in his hand and putting it in his mouth. thanos' takes off his hand, his middle and ring finger covered in your saliva as he now places it on your clit, rubbing sloppily. and before you could make any noise, nam-gyu slams his mouth against yours, making you swallow the pill of ecstacy. his tongue tasting your mouth, swallowing each moan escaping your lips. nam-gyu pulls away from your mouth, forcing it to open just to spit inside.

with all the pleasure they were giving despite the mean words, you camee:( your legs were shaking like crazy! "hey! no fair, bitch! i didn't get to cum yet." thanos was frustrated, yet you whimpered in response, you didn't mean to cum!!. "but.. just means we'll be here for muuuuch longer, baby. ya' can't complain, you know you're a whore who can't live without us." thanos didn't lie, your cunt was throbbing and overstimulated by both of their cocks in and out of you. he also didn't lie about how you wouldn't be alive without them, it's true, they saved you anyway, guess you gotta thank them for keeping you safe. ♡

this is pretty long, im srry guyss!! only putting in what my mind is thinking of atm AHHAAH 3somes are so hard to write 😭😭😿🙏🏻

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Hi!!! If you're still taking requests, can you do a bodyguard headcanon for the LADS boys pls and thanks 🙏

After talking to @ballorawan740 a little more, an extra detail added for the request was that MC was hired as a bodyguard for a young girl by their family. So I made all the men single dads for this HC. IDK who had they this child with or how it happened, just go with it.

Hey Miss Bodyguard...

Zayne:

He's a rich, famous, doctor stretched thin. He hadn't expected being a single dad would be this challenging. Being the youngest person to win the Starcatcher award was no small feat after all.

His fear stems from his refusal to work with Ever. He's terrified that they'll take his daughter as leverage.

He holds interviews of course, because how else can he find the best person to keep his little girl safe? When you walk in, he feels a connection that was absent with the other candidates. You got along easily with his child, and it was obvious that you cared for her more than beyond seeing her as a paycheck.

He keeps things professional and beyond offering you a drop home at night or sometimes bringing takeout, he mostly keeps to himself, but he's drawn to the way you spend time with his daughter. He sees how happy she is around you, and he's confident in your abilities to keep her safe.

It's his daughter that points out he likes you. "Miss...I think my daddy like you!" she'll say matter-of-factly while she gets her shoes on for school. Zayne nearly chokes on his coffee, his ears turning red as you stifle a laugh behind your hands, ushering her out the door. Later that day, Zayne calls asking if it would be all right if he asked you to dinner. You accept of course, because how could anyone resist the stoic, handsome, doctor with the cute daughter?

Sylus:

Sylus has a never-ending list of reasons as to why he needed a bodyguard for his daughter. He was the leader of an organized crime group after all, and there were several people who would gladly claim his head on a platter.

He tried to entrust Luke and Kieran but after an almost near accident at a gun range he decided maybe they weren't the best choice.

His daughter is suspicious of you when Sylus hires you. You simply looked out of place in the N109 zone and part of her didn't feel like you were 'one of them'. She would constantly complain to Mephisto and insist uncle Luke and uncle Kieran weren't that bad, and that they were sorry about the gun range incident.

You finally gain her trust when you teach her how to shoot soda cans with your hunter's gun. She's impressed and says you're not a bad shot, the highest compliment she could think of.

She expresses her approval to her dad and says to him, "daddy, she can outshoot you. You should shoot guns together." Sylus who is tossing a salad for their meal glances at you thoughtfully just as you're about to walk out the door. "Is that so? Well, what does our bodyguard think?" You'll freeze for a minute and retort that you had to think about it and leave. Sylus smiles reassuringly at his daughter. "That's a yes."

Xavier:

Xavier decides to ask you to be his daughter's bodyguard after finding out there are traitors amongst the Backtrackers. Their anger at him for deciding to stay in this timeline with his daughter knew no bounds. He feared they would kidnap her and attempt to fly back to dying Philos. They'd never make it, he knew, given the condition of their spaceship. His bigger concern was them getting stuck in the deepspace tunnel with no way to find their coordinates.

Xavier's daughter has an easy relationship with you. She's seen you around the building before and you always have candy ready for her sweet tooth. If Xavier was too busy to give her attention, then down the elevator she came to knock on your door.

On multiple occasions Xavier has come down to retrieve his daughter from you, reminding her that it's not ok to visit when you were off duty. This upsets her and she looks at you teary-eyed and you insist that she's not a bother.

At this point his daughter bursts out loudly, "Daddy, I'm always either at our place or hers. Miss should just move in with you so that I don't have to come downstairs anymore!" Both you and Xavier laugh awkwardly, both of you blushing before bidding each other good night.

But after Xavier has put his daughter to bed, he considers the idea. It seemed practical, but he knew you'd never go for it. So instead he asks you if you'd be interested in joining him for hot pot one of these days.

Rafayel:

Rafayel somehow believes that because you are his bodyguard, it means you are his daughter's too. Even after you told him it would cost double since you're trying to protect two people he shrugs it off and asks Thomas to write you a check for more.

The young girl is similar to her dad and has an artistic flair, painting breathtaking landscapes and adorable little cartoons alike. She often watches you chastising her dad for not following rules and not being safe enough and senses there's more there.

She can't help but notice that some of her dad's portraits feature people with features similar to yours; the same nose, the shape of your eyes, or the fullness of your lips. When she points this out Rafayel shakes his head in denial.

Determined to be right, she pulls you into his studio where all the portraits are kept while he's out one day. You do see the resemblance but try to console the girl that artists can find inspiration from anywhere, and it might not be as simple as him having feelings for you. Of course, she pouts (so much like her dad!) and that's when Rafayel walks in.

You ask him to correct his daughter, that your relationship is strictly professional. Rafayel sighs dramatically, then says, "Yeah, it's professional. But only because I can't get her to change her mind." His daughter smirks in triumph and you leave the room blushing, wondering how you got tangled up with this family.

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura

[cybrasigilism]

how dae-ho would act like if he had a crush on reader and how he’d ask them out

this is too cute! i desperately need to write for dae-ho more, he’s just such a sweetheart i fear :>

Crush Headcanons! (Player 388/Kang Dae-ho Headcanons)

warning: no smut! | lowercase intended | not proofread! | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own :)

character: kang dae-ho (player 388)

A/N: this is a mix of headcanons + drabble but i hope thats alright it’s nice to take a break from smut every now and again :) i’ve got lots of dae-ho in my requests so i’ll try my best to feed you all .3. of course, i hope you enjoy!

   ────  ☽⃝ ────

⟢ the moment he first took notice of you as everyone was getting their photos taken for the games, he was completely starstruck. from that point forward, dae-ho found his eyes being drawn to you wherever you guys were

⟢ he felt a new sense of urgency to make sure you lived throughout these games, after red light green light he made a vow with himself to ensure you were protected at all costs. he was quick to introduce himself post the first game, and you guys were fast friends.

⟢ he’s not the type to be insecure or jealous when he sees you interacting with the other men inbetween games. there was few men you did talk to anyways, seeing as most of them either got on your nerves or intimidated you way too much. however, he did find himself a tiny bit jealous when he saw how easily you got along with the other guys in his group

⟢ you didn’t end up making it on dae-ho’s team for the six legged pentathlon, but he did his best to calm your nerves before the game started up. he promised he would cheer you on and that he definitely did. he definitely lit up when you ran up to him afterwards, going on about how worried you were about him after you left

⟢ he 100% would share his food with you, especially if he noticed you were particularly shaken up after a game

⟢ adding onto the last piece, dae-ho will also definitely try to cheer you up after the games

⟢ i think he would definitely hold off on asking you out, especially during such a high stakes situation as the squid games. at some point later on, when you guys are closer, you two will promise to see more of each other once the games are finished.

⟢ although dae-ho certainly isn’t one to start a fight, he will put himself between you and any unruly players who try to start something with you. he doesn’t have any trouble putting someone in their place if he feels you would be in any sort of danger

⟢ insisted that you slept with his group during lights out, so he could watch over you and be certain on your safety when you were sleeping

⟢ 100% hugs you tightly after the mingle game, especially if you two got separated. you could tell he didn’t want to let you go at this point, as he was definitely worried that you didn’t make it into a group before the time ran out

⟢ will for sure ask you all about your life before the games, and even about what you’ll do with the prize money when you guys get out

────  ☽⃝ ────

apologies for the less headcanons this time around! i saw more opportunities for small drabbles between the headcanons and i had to seize it! i had a lot of fun writing this out, and i hope you guys all had just as much fun reading it! as always any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested

have a splendid day lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @agorsnotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[ofbatsandballads]

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You���re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[fatfemmefreaquency]

i think maybe what’s missing in this conversation is a discussion of the fact that we could all consume less, actually

one of the primary concerns in terms of AI criticism is the environmental impact—these generative AI technologies consume a huge amount of energy because they require significant computing power

like yeah—some consumption is necessary for survival. and some is necessary to thrive

but do we really need all of the digital art that we’re producing? through AI??? you need soulless art? really? examine that assumption i think

it’s also worth acknowledging that the art is still going to be somewhat soulless when it’s produced by someone being exploited for their labour

and yeah. it IS exploitation to pay people in the imperial periphery a minuscule amount—most goods cost MORE in the periphery than they do in the imperial core, not less. so paying someone a pittance and acting like they should be grateful for you sending them money at all is weird as fuck

and honestly? yeah, underpaying someone for a job is worse than not paying them at all and them therefore having the time to find other employment for which they are fairly compensated

you are not entitled to others devalued labour just because you live in the imperial core and see it as somehow magnanimous to hire people from the periphery to do work for you—and they do have fewer options for lucrative employment so this idea that theres some big difference between you exploiting them vs. a major corporation is nuts

it IS a “productive analogy” in fact to compare exploitative corporations underpaying labourers in the global south to exploitative citizens of the imperial core underpaying labourers in the global south (idk what that person further up thread was on about with that argument lol)

because these two interactions are the same thing. it’s either a private individual or an organization leveraging the disparity of access to resources between the core vs. the periphery to find ways to underpay for labour. it does not matter if it’s a sweatshop or freelancing: the material impact is the same if it’s you, individually, or if it’s a corporation

but i think what a lot of people in the imperial core forget is this: you can consume less

there is such an entitlement to the goods & services that people at the periphery produce, even among the lowest classes in the imperial core

you do not need cheaply made goods. you do not need goods or services that involve exploiting labourers

there is also an almost staggering sense of entitlement in westerners to natural resources and to energy that, frankly, should not be privately owned

like idk. why should you get to use all that computing power and electricity to produce some shitty AI art?

i don’t actually think you’re entitled to consume those resources, just as much as you’re not actually entitled to the labour of people you refuse to pay a living wage

do you need it? what’s the impact of consuming it and is the cost actually worth the quality of what you get?

i think we all deserve nice things. we all deserve enough to both survive and thrive

but AI art is not a nice thing. it doesn’t meaningfully contribute to us thriving and the cost in terms of energy use, environmental destruction, global warming/ climate change, and other harms caused by the tech industry around it is too fucking much

none of us can afford to foot the bill

go watch some tv show or consume some art that already exists. ideally do it NOT by streaming—you can still buy physical media and watching or viewing it still costs less than streaming does

you know what’s more environmentally and economically sustainable than churning out a bunch of AI Garbage OR exploiting an artist to make something sub-par (because they’re not being paid enough to do their best work)? museums. galleries. being in nature. making your own art. looking at art your family & friends make. there are beautiful and fascinating and worthwhile things to look at in many, many places

i promise it won’t kill you to not have your own personal artists at your beck and call, be they generative AI or underplayed freelancers

i love how many AI art haters will with no self awareness whatsoever ask "ummm why don't you just underpay and exploit someone (probably in the global south) instead of using the evil words machine :/"

[fumiscripts]

✦ DEDICATED TO YOU

✦ one shot ,, rin itoshi x gn!reader

content:: you're a famous idol. and you're dating a professional player. of course you'll be making headlines when your relationship was made public.

for @yui2aku ,, fluff ,, 822 words

additional:: swearing, they're both whipped for eachother, might be ooc

Itoshi Rin is a rising star in the football industry. And you were in the peak of your idol career.

Obviously, the media would freak if they find out that the two of you were dating.

So you kept the relationship a secret, doing your best to not give out any hints. From making sure not to mention each other too much in interviews, to carefully crafting social media posts to ensure that fans won't be able to tell that you were going to a place together. Both of you and your management carefully concealed it from the public view.

But, of course, not everything goes to plan.

PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE ITOSHI RIN AND SOLO IDOL [L/N] [NAME] SEEN HOLDING HANDS AT HANEDA AIRPORT.

This was the headline of one of the many, many articles that flooded all across the internet. Your heart stopped, then slammed back at full force. You stood up straighter, brows furrowing together. The first time you opened your phone for the day, and you find posts about this everywhere.

Oh fuck. You fucked up, didn't you?

“Shit. What the hell,” you curse under your breath, reading more into the article.

Meanwhile, Rin looks up from your lap, opening an eye, disturbed from resting on your thighs when you suddenly stopped running your hands through his black locks. Your eyes flicked towards his,and he gave you a look, as if to ask what suddenly bothered you to halt playing with his hair.

You blink at him, before sheepishly turning your phone around, showing him what's been blowing up all over the media. “So… maybe we weren't discreet enough with the clothes I wore to greet you.”

His face instantly dropped, turning into something more serious as his teal eyes skimmed through the overview of the post. Rin sighed, grumbling something under his breath before burying his face onto your stomach. “...I told you to just stay at home and wait for me,” he murmured after a while, draping his arms around your waist.

“C’mon… you know I had to greet you right away. It was after a big overseas game I couldn't come to— it was the same time I had a concert,” you scoffed, reasoning with him. “The least I could do was pick you up at the airport.”

Rin didn't look up. He was touched by your little gesture to try and make up for not attending a vital match, so he didn't use that argument further. “Tch. Should've at least covered up more of your features,” he lightheartedly remarked. Though he really liked the uniqueness you had with the way you dressed up, so he can't hate on that. “Well, what do we do now?” he asked, moving the topic along from the problem to finding a solution.

You stared down your phone, anxiousness coming back to loom over you. “I should contact my manager,” you remark, watching as he finally lets go of you and sits up properly. “We could schedule a meeting with our PR teams?”

He nodded. “Right. So go do that,” he replied, though he already had a vague idea what they might propose for you two to do. It was a guess.

That guess was right.

The day after those rumors about the two of you having a secret blew up, you hard launched your relationship to the public.

They decided that coming out clean about this would be the most logical way to proceed— way better than the media speculating that the two of you were just a fling and start tarnishing both of you’s reputation. A proper relationship sounded way better than a one-night stand to the public.

After confirming on each official account, the masses began to be a little more welcoming to it. Hell, the ship tag between you and Rin seemed to blow up with positive posts, even. So that fix was successful.

Once the news calmed down through weeks, everything was back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be with being an idol with a soccer player for a boyfriend. Majority of fans seemed to love the two of you, often making fan media dedicated to your relationship. And in all honesty, it was cute. Plus, you had more material to tease Rin with.

Now, you couldn't help it. You personally asked for your next album to be something special, convincing management it's for the sake of the publication of your relationship. Though, it was dedication for someone special.

An album dedicated to him.

Rin knew those songs were dedicated to him. If those vibrant eyes of yours while you performed on stage— looking straight at him who sat by the vip seats— said anything, it was all about how much you loved him.

Oh, and with the way he looked at you with pure adoration, it was obvious he loved you, too.

Rin was utterly, hopelessly dedicated to you.

(a/n):: Grrrhsjua not my proudest work since I barely write nonchalant asf characters

taglist:: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku

@lakeside-paradise

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[celebtf]

TOM, THE LOOK-ALIKE AND THE SPIDER-SUIT

Jordan Johnson had built a small but loyal following online. His TikTok account had hundreds of thousands of followers, all captivated by one thing: his uncanny resemblance to Tom Holland.

From lip-syncing iconic Spider-Man lines to recreating Tom’s interviews, Jordan’s content thrived on the illusion. Fans bombarded his comment sections with excitement.

“OMG, you look EXACTLY like him!”

“Are you SURE you’re not his twin?”

“Better than the real thing!”

At first, the attention was exhilarating. Jordan leaned into the role, perfecting Tom’s mannerisms, studying his accent, and even buying clothes that matched Tom’s public appearances.

But as time went on, the praise began to sting.

“You’re just a look-alike,” one comment read. “Cool, but… you’re not him.”

Jordan’s content, once fun, became a bitter reminder of his second-place position in life. People loved him, but only because he reminded them of someone else. He wasn’t Jordan Johnson. He was “Fake Tom.”

The tipping point came when someone stopped him on the street.

“Oh my God, it’s you!” the stranger squealed, pulling out their phone. “I love your Spider-Man movies!”

Jordan opened his mouth to correct them but stopped. What was the point?

The fan took a selfie, thanked him, and walked away without a second glance.

Jordan stood there, seething.

“I’m done being second best,” he muttered under his breath.

That night, staring at the ceiling of his tiny apartment, Jordan came to a decision. He didn’t just want to look like Tom Holland. He wanted to be Tom Holland. And he would do whatever it took to make that happen.

For weeks, Jordan meticulously researched Tom Holland’s life. Social media posts, interviews, paparazzi photos—he gathered every scrap of information he could find. He learned Tom’s routines, his favorite coffee shop, even the layout of his home.

A plumbing issue Tom had mentioned in a recent interview gave Jordan the perfect in. He forged a work order, bought a janitor’s uniform, and prepared a special sedative designed to weaken Tom—just enough to make him vulnerable.

Jordan didn’t just want to meet Tom. He wanted to take everything from him—his fame, his fortune, his

Jordan’s hands trembled as he knocked on the door of Tom’s London home.

The door opened, and there he was. The real Tom Holland.

“Hello? Can I help you?” Tom asked, his voice warm and polite.

Jordan forced a smile. “I’m here to fix the pipes. Routine maintenance.”

Tom hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. Come in.”

Jordan followed him inside, clutching his toolbox tightly. Tom led him to the bathroom, chatting casually about the plumbing issue. Jordan nodded along, barely listening, his focus on the small vial hidden in his toolbox.

After a few minutes of fake tinkering, he made his move.

“Hey, before I go, do you mind if we take a photo? Big fan,” Jordan asked, feigning nervousness.

Tom chuckled. “Sure! Let me grab my phone.”

“No need,” Jordan said, pulling out his own. They posed for the photo, and Jordan snapped it, his smirk barely concealed.

“Thanks, mate,” he said, slipping the sedative into the faucet’s filter. He turned the water on, letting it run clear before leaving the room.

But he didn’t leave the house. Instead, he waited just outside the bathroom door, listening.

It didn’t take long. Jordan heard a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. He pushed the door open slightly and peered inside.

Tom was on his knees, clutching the sink, his face pale and drenched in sweat. His veins glowed faintly blue and red, spider-like patterns spreading across his skin.

“What’s… happening?” Tom choked, his voice trembling.

His muscles tensed and convulsed as the transformation took hold. The glow intensified, and the veins began to shift, forming the outlines of a Spider-Man suit. Tom’s skin seemed to liquefy, merging with the red and blue fabric that now covered his body.

Jordan watched, mesmerized, as Tom’s features softened. His face disappeared beneath the mask, his body shrinking slightly, losing its humanity.

Within moments, Tom was gone. Where he had been stood a perfect Spider-Man suit, limp and lifeless on the floor.

Jordan stepped inside, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Incredible,” he whispered, crouching beside the suit. He ran his fingers over the fabric, feeling its strange, almost organic texture.

“This is it,” he murmured, standing up and beginning to undress.

Jordan slid one leg into the suit, gasping as a surge of energy shot through him. His muscles tensed, growing stronger and more defined.

He pulled the suit over his thighs and waist, shivering as his body began to change. His stomach hardened into chiseled abs, his chest broadened, and his arms thickened with new strength.

“Unreal,” he whispered, flexing his hands as they grew larger, the veins more prominent.

He zipped up the suit, feeling it mold perfectly to his body. Finally, he pulled the mask over his face.

A warmth spread through him, and he felt his face shift. His cheekbones sharpened, his jawline squared, and his voice deepened into Tom’s unmistakable accent.

Jordan pulled off the mask and stared into the mirror.

“Holy…” He touched his face, his heart racing. The reflection was perfect. He was no longer Jordan Johnson.

He was Tom Holland.

Jordan turned to the empty space on the floor where the suit had been.

“Look at you now,” he sneered. “The great Tom Holland, reduced to nothing but fabric. You’re part of me now.”

He flexed his new muscles, admiring his reflection in the mirror.

“I’ll take your roles, your fans, your fame,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “I’ll live your life better than you ever could. And no one will ever know.”

He adjusted the mask, slipping it back over his face.

“Thanks for the life, mate,” he said, his tone cruel. “I think I’ll enjoy it.”

With that, he walked out of the bathroom, now the star the world adored, leaving the real Tom behind—trapped forever as the suit Jordan now wore.

[mistymysticalmoon]

Frosty Morning

･ charles leclerc x reader ･

prompt: (fluff) on a snowy monaco morning you and charles enjoy a cozy, sweet moment together, cuddled up with léo and tangled in sheets.

warnings: none

wc: 800

a/n: leave a request inbox is open!

masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The warm sunlight broke through the curtains, melting away the frost on the window and pulling you from your dreams.

Your eyes flutter open, met with a light snow, a rarity in Monaco, which made it all the more beautiful.

It was finally winter, which meant fuzzy socks, hot chocolate, Christmas, and, best of all, winter break.

After a tough and exciting season, you and Charles could finally have time for yourselves. It had been a year since you'd both said "I do" in the serene south of France, surrounded by all you loved and adored. Your honeymoon had been long and amazing, but right after that, it was back to work for the both of you.

You had both yearned for each other in your time apart and now that you were together you intended to make the most of it.

You softly turned on your back, careful not to wake your sleeping husband, knowing how much he needed this rest. At the end of the bed lay Léo, comfy as ever sprawled out and lightly snoring. You shift, making yourself comfortable to gaze upon Charles’ unconscious face, his hair disheveled and his lips slightly parted.

He looks so peaceful, so perfect. You can't help but reach out, moving a misplaced hair from his eyes.

"Mmm," he stirs, nuzzling his face into his pillow before faintly opening his tired eyes.

"Oh, sorry, love, I didn't mean to wake you," you whisper, feeling guilty for selfishly stealing him from his sleep.

"Morning chérie" he smiles, reaching for your face.

You smile back at him, leaning into his touch and returning the greeting.

"Good morning, how did you sleep?"

"I always sleep beautifully when you're here, mon amour." Charles coos.

"Mmm, is that right?" you tease snuggling up to him.

He nods, chuckling deeply as he wraps his arms tighter around your frame, holding you impossibly close.

"I missed you, so much" you mumble into his chest.

He pulls your face up to his, bringing his lips to yours in a deep, meaningful kiss. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tightening around his bicep to steady yourself.

"Fuck, I missed you, baby, you have no idea," he murmurs against your lips.

"Mmm," you hum in accord, your fingers snaking into his hair, pulling softly just how he likes.

He pulls away only when he feels he needs air, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and little pecks all over your face. You giggle at the sensation, play fighting him off before returning the gesture, also leaving him in a fit of giggles.

You sigh in contentment, looking over your husband's face, having missed these simple times when it was just you and him in your own little world away from all the racing and media and championship titles.

Just your Charles.

"You're so beautiful, mon cœur," Charles whispers, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggle as you nuzzle your face into the bed, feeling a sudden shyness at his compliment.

"Amour, let me see your face, come here." He pulls your face up to his view, smiling and caressing your cheek and your cuteness.

"Thank you," you whisper, looking down at his chest where your fingers trace imaginary words and shapes.

He smiles at your shyness, finding it endearing. He leaned in to nudge your nose, his hand reaching up to cup your jaw, pulling you in closer, Your eyes fluttered shit as his lips met yours in the softest of kisses, his thumb brushing your cheek as you melted into each other.

It was a simple kiss, but it said so much.

Charles was slow in pulling away, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before you were burying your face in his chest, his arms pulling you in closer. You felt such love and tenderness you could burst, tangled up together with the one you loved in the place you called home.

Suddenly, a quiet yelp was heard in the room, pulling you and Charles from your intimate moment. Looking toward the end of the bed, you see Léo making his way up to the two of you, having become restless and needy. "Good morning, Léo, my love," you coo, beckoning him by patting the space between you and Charles.

Leo excitedly makes his way over, wagging his tail and getting straight to greeting his two favorite humans.

"Vraiment Léo?" Charles exclaims as the puppy licks over his face, causing you to burst into laughter at the adorable scene.

"Someone's excited to see us this morning, aren't you, Léo?" you giggle, petting his small frame as he makes his way over to you, now attacking your face with doggie kisses.

And so you spend the frosty winter morning like that, snuggled up in bed with your two favorite boys, overwhelmed with kisses.

[pangur-and-grim]

look I'm deleting this so soon, but you can see it for a sec

I met Jorg by accident while hunting for cool rocks in the creek.

My pockets already bulged with stones, the weight pulling my pants dangerously low on my ass, but with the sun high above, I felt plenty ready to continue my search. That is, until I splashed too close to the old bridge.

“I cry your mercy, my peerless paramour,” came a voice like stones and kittens in a shaken bag. It took a moment to parse it as language.

“What?” I said, unfolding from my crouched position in the water. 

“Seekest thou a trinket?” From the depth of shadows under the bridge, I saw two eyes shining like silver coins.

“Uh,” I said. “Just rocks, really. I’m hoping for a fossil, or maybe nice and sparkly to put on my shelf, you know? Or wait, here.” And shaking my hand dry, I shoved it into a loaded pocket, searching by touch for the best of my finds. “Here,” I said, pulling it out, “See how yellow this is? With white banding? I’m fully ignorant about its geology, you might know more than me, but it looks lovely. Like a lemon custard. Would you like to see?”

A terrible hand unfurled from the shadows. The wind shifted then, and its smell hit me, like freshly dug earth and the salty musk of an overworked horse. I continued to smile politely as I sloshed closer. Under the bridge’s shadow, the summer lost its warmth. 

I placed the rock onto its central paw pad. It struck me, then – I’d forgotten to clarify I’d like the rock back afterward, but now it seemed too late. Fingers closed about the stone. 

“Again, I don’t know much, so apologies if it’s ordinary. I’m actually in an engineering program, so could tell you more about this bridge than what’s under it.”

With my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could now assess the creature. It hunched to fit under the confines of the stone bridge, all pale wormy skin and tufts of colourless fur, with ears that sharpened into points. As the creature brought the stone to its muzzle and huffed, I let my eyes roam the bridge’s underside, searching for something I could comment on. 

Unfortunately, I found it. “Oh, fuck.”

“Trouble, my sweeting?”

“Yeah, you see the cracks there? The bridge’s foundation is crumbling. That’s no good. I mean, not that it’ll collapse at this exact moment, but–“ 

The bridge shook then, as something heavy passed across it at speed. I sloshed out into the sunlight and squinted at the vehicle speeding away: Mr. Manor, who’d renovated the farmhouse across the creek into something modern and flavourless.

“Asshole!” I shouted after the car. Wading back under the bridge, I said, “Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away.”

It hunched, shivering in the shadows. “Beshrew that rolling waste,” it hissed, and I nodded in agreement. Once again, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I realized that it was a he.

“So, not big on clothes, then?” I leaned against a bridge wall, running my fingers along its cracks. “I get that.”

He grunted acknowledgment, before turning to dig through a heap of rags and trash. When the creature found what he sought, he yipped in delight. “Your trinket, dearworth!”

Between two taloned claws, he brandished a lump of shiny yellow. 

“Is that gold?” Despite my waving and stuttering, he kept his enormous hand held out to me, and so with some nervousness I took the lump. 

The creature radiated heat. Fresh sweat broke out across my chest from our proximity. “Honestly, I can’t possibly accept this.” Though, turning the lump this way and that, I did admire how it caught the faint light beneath the bridge. I could already picture how it might fulfil a similar role on my windowsill.

“By my troth,” the creature insisted, in his clicking hiss, “It is fitting.”

“I feel like I’m being courted.” I cradled the precious stone like it was an egg that might crack. At his unwavering stare, I blanched. “Am I? You know that I’m a guy, right?”

“A choice sweetmeat,” the creature said, and grinned. He unfolded his long, simian arm, and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across my eyes.

Oh, so the creature was a homosexual!

“Be that as it may,” I coughed, feeling my cheeks heat, “I do actually have to go. I promised to do the groceries today. But you know…” And I hesitated, unsure how to broach it. “This is an old bridge. It can’t handle all this modern usage.”

“Aye,” the creature said, in a sad grumble, before perking up. “Pray thee come again?”

“Of course!” I said, a little too eagerly, and then look away in embarrassment. “I mean, always more rocks to find, right? Thank you again, for the. . . thank you!” For a second time, I splashed my way out from under the bridge. Then I turned. “What’s your name, by the way?”

His eyes gleamed like twin moons in the dark. “Jorg,” he rattled. Or possibly ‘George’, it was hard to tell.

“See you later, Jorg!”  

Only when I’d waded to the shore and slipped into my waiting flip flops did I allow myself break into a full grin. I didn’t slip the gold into my pocket, instead dancing it between my fingers for the full walk along the roadside, and into the shopping plaza.

Only after I’d entered the No Frills did I realize that a crackling layer of creek sediment coated me from the waist-down,. I grabbed a plastic basket from the entrance stack and, suffering a few glances from the more cleanly folk, began hunting. Dish detergent, paper towels, a bag of honey crisp apples, all bran cereal…even with that repeated mantra, it was hard to focus. My body tingled with the remembrance of the creature’s wafting heat and salty odour. Self-checkout took far longer than it otherwise might, with the woman behind me sighing pointedly, but that hardly mattered.

I stepped into the parking lot with my arms and heart full. Truly, I wasn’t planning on a confrontation, until I saw Mr. Manor's parked car. “Ah, damn.” I said, and turned to head back in.

The doors slid open for me with a cool puff of air. It felt strange to walk in with bags of purchased produce, like the opposite of stealing, but nobody stopped me.

I found Mr. Manor in amongst the vegetables, fingering a ripe tomato. His face held a similar colour, his cheeks branched with broken veins. 

“Hey there,” I said. He acknowledged me with a polite nod and then tried to turn away, so I stepped in closer. “Hey, I’m a neighbour, sort of. I’ve been away for college, you won’t have seen me around.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Manor. He held his tomato in one hand, and a plastic bag in another. Clearly, he was wondering whether it would be rude to start loading his bag while I still demanded his attention.

“Anyway, so the old stone bridge? I’ve seen you driving over it with, what is that, an electric car? A Tesla?”

“Yeah.” He had shaggy brows, which crept closer together.

“So, the bridge is old, like real old, probably meant for horses and wagons, right?”  

He stared back at me, gripping his tomato.

“You’ve got some kind of mythological creature living under it, did you know?”

“Yeah,” he said, and carefully placed his tomato into the plastic bag. It was a signal to me, that his civility was waning. I cut to the chase.

“So, I reckon the bridge isn’t meant for the repeated weight of a car driving over it, right? I was under there – “

“You were under my bridge?”

“Well, sure, looking for stones, so anyways I saw cracks and stuff? Signs of degradation? And normally I wouldn’t bother you, except you know, you’ve got a mythological creature living under there.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Mr. Manor, and in rapid motions stuffed three more tomatoes into his bag. “You needn’t concern yourself with this any further.”

The billow of air conditioning, and the gentle misting that kept the bins of assorted greenery hydrated, all conspired to give me energy. 

“You know, the mythological creature, I think he’s a homosexual?” I said, as Mr. Manor tried to quick step away.

That stopped him. “That’s not something I care about. I mean, my niece is going through a lesbian phase right now, I’ve always been accepting.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, only that the bridge probably can’t take the weight of your car over and over.”

“I always vote left-wing.”

“Okay, so the bridge, though?”

Mr. Manor nodded, his face going even redder, and I knew in that moment that he wouldn’t do a thing. My fingers ached from standing with full grocery bags, so I gave up and left the store.

Outside, the parking lot shimmered in the heat. I squinted, pained by the sun. Even with sweat beading on my forehead, I still altered my route to pass Mr. Manor’s tesla, and lightly kicked one wheel. The motion swung my grocery bags, one of them hitting me in the thigh. “Ow!” 

The walk home had me regretting the confrontation. My arms and fingers hurt, no matter how I shuffled the bags, and sweat rolled into my eyes and stung them. Walking up my front steps brought some relief, though I grew unbearably annoyed fishing for my keys. Finally, with a click and a creak, the door opened. I dropped the bags in the front hall and stood there, luxuriating in the air conditioning.

 My sister sat in the kitchen, scrolling through Instagram.

“Hey Mary,” I said, and she grunted in response. “You know, there’s some kinda creature living under the bridge?”

“What bridge?”

“Like a fifteen-minute walk away, -ish? Anyway, so his name is Jorg, I think. Or George. Probably Jorg. I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Oh?” Mary looked up from her phone. She’d overloaded her mascara today, so that flakes of it deposited on her upper cheek as she blinked. “Are you interested?”

“Mary, he’s a mythological creature.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m interested.” I considered telling her about the bridge, but she’d probably ask what I planned next. She might even start a social media campaign, and I hadn’t decided to care to that extent. Not yet, anyway.

The next morning, I woke up incredibly aroused. “By God,” I said, staring at my bedroom ceiling. “I need to get back to that bridge!”

My head felt wonderfully empty. I choked down bran cereal, fended off conversational attempts from my mother, and scraped the black mud from beneath my nails with a file. No concern existed, as to when I’d be back at my university program, or how I’d finance it, having thoroughly fucked up my scholarship. Only the careful selection of which shorts and shirt a bridge troll might prefer me in. I’d just settled on a tight-fitting grey number, emblazoned with a wriggling salmon, when the first ambulance drove by. The whine of its siren came first, like the breathless scream of an animal, and then my room flashed red and blue. Then, it was past,

It took 9 minutes of jogging to reach the bridge, and as I panted my way down the country roadside, another ambulance passed, and then a tow truck. I clutched at the gold in my pocket, feeling it take the warmth of my hand.

When I approached the scene, my fears became a solid thing in front of me. A pile of rumble blocked the creek, which, resisting this imposition, climbed its bank to trickle into new paths at either side. Mr. Manor’s Tesla had come close to making it across before the collapse, before falling. It reared like a horse, statically, its back end crushed by centuries-old stones. Mr. Manor himself lay in a wheeled stretcher, seemingly uninjured, though they’d strapped something stupid about his neck. Likely a precaution. His face, red as a tomato, contorted with an anger that he took out, in barks, on the paramedics. While I might have rolled him into the creek, the EMT’s stoically loaded him into an ambulance. 

“Hey,” I called, as they shut the doors, leaving one of their fellows inside with Mr. Manor, “There’s a guy who lives under that bridge!”

A thickset woman with a peeling sunburn looked at me with deep-blue eyes, while her co-worker, a short man, grimaced at her in anticipation of further work.

“Sorry, not a guy,” I corrected, “A mythological creature.”

All the tension left their shoulders. “That’s not our department,” the woman said, scratching at her sunburnt cheek.

“But, I mean,” I spluttered, “You won’t do anything at all?”

“Legally, we can’t. You have to take a special course, we don’t have the credentials.” She spoke with a patience that bordered on kindness, but it didn’t feel as though any of that kindness extended towards Jorg. I couldn’t think of anything further to say, so they left.

The ambulance took off with a silenced siren. Its lights flashed calmly, painting the collapsed stones blue and red in turn. Its sister ambulance, whose occupants hadn’t bothered to step out in my presence, peeled off and followed, leaving me alone with the tow truck.

“Can you move the rubble, at all?” I asked.

The tow-man stood with hands on his hips, surveying. I recognized him from around town, but we’d never spoken. He always kept his grey-streaked hair high in a ponytail.

“Not my job,” he said, “I just gotta get that car out.”

“There’s a mythological creature underneath all that.” I pointed at the rubble, but the man said nothing in response. “I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Hey, my brother’s a gay,” the man said, lighting a cigarette, “It’s still not my job. Don’t even have the right stuff on hand for this.” Then his voice lowered into a indistinguishable grumble, listing all the materials he needed, and the traffic that awaited, and the general progression of his morning. I didn’t listen, but I also tried not to cough on his cigarette smoke, as that might be rude. 

Seeing as nobody else would do a damn thing, I took off my flips flops. Then, I carefully climbed down the bank into the creek, letting the water swallow my feet up to the ankles. Glancing back at the road revealed it to be empty, with the tow truck finally having cleared off. 

“Damn,” I said, “This isn’t my department, either.” Even so, I pried at the piled rubble, lifting small, manageable pieces. These, I heaved into the creek with great frothing splashes. 

“Jorg?” I called at intervals. Each time I stopped, straining for any hint of a reply. I never heard any.

The sun got higher, and hotter, and I ran out of pieces I could lift. Sitting on the creek bank, I wiped my hands dry on a pant leg, then scrolled through my phone to find out whose department this was, exactly.

Broken websites. Links which lead to more links, which lead back to the original page in an ouroboros. Government sites in need of updating. No numbers to call, nobody to email.

In a last ditch, I called 911. “Hey there,” I said, when they asked for my emergency. “So, the old bridge collapsed, close to the No Frills? Off the highway?”

“Sir, we’ve already had people on the scene for this situation.”

“Well,” and I clutched grass between my fingers, tearing it free from the earth. “There’s a mythological creature buried underneath the rubble, is all.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.” 

“He’s a homosexual, I’m pretty sure.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.”

“Okay, well there’s got to be someone who does deal with it. Who should I be calling here, what should I do?”

She gave me a web address that I’d already looked at, and then ended the call. “Fuck,” I said, without real passion. The Tesla couldn’t speak, but standing vertically with its ass pinched by rubble, I reckon it would agree with my assessment. 

With the exception of the car, and the bridge, the day seemed perfectly ordinary, all blue sky and pleasant warmth.

A few more handfuls of pulled grass, and then I got back to work, scrabbling over the collapsed bridge and prying at its ruined components. My carefully chosen shirt grew wet with sweat, and as my odour developed, I realized that I’d ran out without applying antiperspirant. “Sorry if I smell,” I said to nobody, as I threw another Victorian-era stone into the creek. Then the bridge shifted under me, and I fell to one knee, scraping my skin. 

“Damn,” I said, shaken. Carefully, I climbed down from the ruin, splashing through the creek to the shore. With the present instability, it could easily shift and crush a leg or a foot. 

“This isn’t my department,” I said to the wreckage. “This isn’t anyone’s department, it seems.” Beads of red trickled down my shin, diluted by the water that still dripped from me.

I rested back on the warm bank, and took out Jorg’s gift, rolling it between my fingers. With my free hand, I scrolled through websites, their links already purple. The gold lump cast reflected beams of light across my touchscreen.

I dialed a few town council numbers, without result. Nobody came, no more flashing lights. Once I thought I heard a scratching, but when I pressed my ear to the piled stone, the only sound was my own ragged breathing. 

Eventually, I went home. 

For a time, I kept the gold on my windowsill, where it sparkled in the corner of my eye, throwing its reflection across my work, demanding my attention and my guilt, until in an angry rush I swept it into my hand and locked it in a drawer. 

When I returned to the creek a year later, having financed my return to engineering though a loan, the piled debris was gone, and something modern and concrete bridged the water in its place. 

Standing at the summit of this new construction, I threw the lump of gold in a glistening arc. It disappeared into the water with barely a ripple, and that was that.

every now and then I go back and read my homoerotic bridge troll story, and it's always like wait, this is kinda good

[tthoroughfare]

garden daisy (part 2) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: ellie makes a new friend, and you feel all weird about it.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.6k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

okay so i feel like the way i've organized this series is kind of confusing as it started as a random blurb... technically part one is this blurb however the real story starts in the xmas fic! the blurb just kind of exists floating around somewhere before the events of that and sets up the dynamic. call it part 0.5 i guess. also i'm so sorry if ur name is haley it was genuinely the first name i thought of hahaha

after christmas, once you’re all settled back into life at college, ellie gets a new job. it’s just a few shifts a week at a music store, but she seems to be enjoying it. you’re happy for her; it’s nice to see her getting out of the apartment more, doing something that allows her to be in her element.

but then she starts mentioning a girl she works with. like, a lot.

“dude, look at what haley sent me today, i was dying.”

“haley had, like, the coolest shirt on at work.”

“oh my god, so i found out haley likes comics, too.”

at first, it doesn’t really bother you. then, it’s a case of you trying not to let it bother you. why even should it? she’s allowed to make new friends; her life doesn’t revolve around you.

still, you don’t like the way your chest starts to twist every time she gets mentioned, every time you see ellie smiling at her phone. you can hear them on facetime frequently through the thin walls of your apartment, and you more often than not end up shoving your headphones in to drown it out.

they start spending time together outside of work, too. she mentions that they’re going to see an exhibit together on a shared day off, and it takes everything for you to look up from your laptop, give her a tight smile and utter, “cool.”

you can tell she’s a bit dispirited by your reaction, like she’s debating saying something. she leaves it, though, just nodding once and pursing her lips before walking away. you kick yourself for it immediately — wishing you’d tried harder to appear enthusiastic for her. you’re worried it could be the seed of a wedge being driven.

it’s not like she’s completely neglected your friendship. you live together. you see her every day. she still gently knocks at your ajar door, poking her head around and asking if you want to watch a movie with her. you make dinner together on friday nights, something you’d done since you moved out of the dorms and got a semi-decent place.

you’re just so used to it being the two of you. sure, you both have other friends, but you’re best friends. you can’t help but feel a little uneasy all of a sudden someone new is making their way up the ladder, ellie not having quite as much time for you anymore.

at least, that’s what you tell yourself the reason is. you know the real one.

you eventually meet the esteemed haley when she comes over to hang out, and to your petty dismay she well and truly lives up to the boasting. you’ve seen pictures of her (as in, you found her on instagram and stalked her at two in the morning), but she’s even prettier in person. she’s sweet, too, giving you a hug and saying how great it is to finally meet you. ellie talks about you all the time, apparently.

the evening’s spent with the tv on, a few drinks sipped. you’re on one side of the couch, ellie on the other, new friend in the middle. you hate how genuinely likeable she is; she goes out of her way to speak to you, asking you questions about yourself and chatting jovially when you find common ground. she’s cool, smart, witty — it’s impossible not to compare yourself, and feel subpar. like old news.

and you wish you weren’t, but you’re reading into every little thing. the way the two of them easily bounce off of each other’s jokes, the way you can see even where you’re from how ellie’s eyes light up when she looks at her. deciding three’s a crowd and you’re just hurting your own feelings, you call it pretty early.

when you stand after finishing your drink and announce that you’re going to bed, you note the way that ellie’s face drops. “oh… really?”

you scrunch your nose, trying to sound untroubled. “yeah, i’m kinda tired, so…”

“m’kay,” she replies, chewing slightly at the inside of her cheek. she knows you better than that. since you first met, you’ve never been ‘kinda tired’ by nine.

after a pause and a quick look back and forth between the two of you, haley gives you a smile, reiterating her earlier statement. “well, it was so nice to meet you, anyway.”

you return it, nodding. your eyes flit to ellie for a split-second. “yeah, you too. see you both later.”

with that, you place your glass in the sink across the room and head off down the hall.

you change and get ready for bed, although the plan was never to sleep. you’re nestled under a blanket, lights dim and a candle burning as you keep your eyes trained on the bullshit stream of youtube videos you’d put on. you’re not really paying attention, mind well and truly elsewhere; simultaneously feeling sorry for yourself, and like the most petty, mean person in the world.

you feel pathetic for wishing ellie’s new friend wasn’t so easy to get along with. she came off as a nice person, and not in a sickly, fabricated way. you could understand how she’d easily tugged ellie out of her shell. a part of yourself had been secretly hoping she was irritating, or bitchy, or weird towards you — you just wanted something to latch onto, something to validate all the uncomfortable emotions that had been swirling ever since she became prominent.

but there was nothing. now all you’re left with is a weird bitterness towards a perfectly normal, sweet girl, her only crime being fetching up a childish possessiveness within you.

you don’t even understand why you’re like this over her in particular; ellie was always an introvert, but it wasn’t like she was a complete recluse. she’d had a serious girlfriend in high school, seen a couple of girls your first year of college, and you don’t remember feeling anywhere near how you are right now. you just guessed you didn’t have as much understanding of how you looked at her back then, combined with the domesticity of now having your own real place luring you into a warped way of thinking.

you hear haley leave around an hour and a half after you’d taken yourself to bed, followed by ellie shuffling around the kitchen space. the tap runs and there are a few clinks as she washes then places the three glasses to dry, hitting the lights off. her room’s further down the hall from yours, and she hesitates as she’s making her way there.

a few light taps sound from the other side of the door. “you asleep?”

“… no,” you call out softly, watching as it cracks open and ellie picks her way in. wordlessly, she plops herself onto the bed next to you, arm behind her head. you shift away a little, offering her more room.

“what’re you watching?”

“uh…” grabbing the remote, you pause the video for a beat so the title shows. you’re not even sure; you’d just selected the first you saw, then let the rest autoplay. “… ‘six most disturbing forest encounters caught on camera’.”

she chuckles. “spooky.”

“eh… they’re all fake.” you look up at her, smiling a little.

“could’ve fooled me.”

“i’m sure,” you laugh lightly, feeling the need to turn away when she goes to meet your eyes.

it’s quiet for a while, but you can sense she wants to say something. it’s not like one of the times she waltzes into your room simply to hang out, sit at the side of one another peacefully.

“you okay?” she eventually asks gently, turning her head to regard you. you don’t meet it.

“yeah, i’m fine.”

“you sure? ‘cause… i don’t know. you seem a little…”

“i’m all good.” glancing up, you offer an unconvincing, flickery smile. “don’t worry.”

“… okay.”

you can tell it offers no comfort, but she doesn’t push it. just settles further into the bed, scratching at her chin.

her eyes dart from the tv screen to the wall, then back to you. “haley’s cool, right? guessed you guys would get along.”

“yeah, she seems nice.”

she’s really not being subtle; but then again, neither are you. you’d been perfectly friendly while you were all together, but the way you’d disappeared coupled with your increasingly half-hearted responses whenever she was brought up pointed elsewhere.

“seriously, what’s up?” she turns onto her side to face you, resting her head on her arm. “i don’t like this.”

you roll your eyes, sighing as you turn, mirroring her. “it’s stupid.”

“what’s stupid?”

your mind flashes with a million ways you can get an overview of your feelings out, without having to tell her the root cause. “i don’t know, i’m just… like, used to it being… y’know, me and you.”

she pulls a face, letting out a fond scoff and furrowing her brow. “what do you mean?”

a tiny groan sounds from your throat, fingertips rubbing at your eye. “i’m just being stupid. fuckin’ embarrassing.”

laughing quietly again, she narrows her eyes a little. “what, are you, like… jealous?”

“no, i just… i don’t know. ignore me.” you’re trying to ignore the way you can feel your cheeks heat up when she says that word. you’d known all along that’s what you were, but being confronted with it is a whole other sensation entirely.

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps a small smirk on her face and looks down. “that is stupid.”

“right. thanks.”

“no, like…” subconsciously shuffling closer, her leg brushes yours. she quickly moves it. “dude, i can have other friends, but no-one’s gonna be you.”

you blink, thrown by her sincerity. you’d half-expected her to poke a little fun, call you a dumbass. she continues, your eyes meeting hers as she settles her head into the palm of her hand. “you’re always gonna be my best friend.”

yeah, i know, you think. that’s the problem.

[thef1diary]

team principal!carlos treating the team to a little vacation before the new season starts for uh.. team building reasons.. obviously.. 👀 think paradise but sharing meals with everyone and having a few fun activities together. and you are sharing a room with carlos, the suite was the only one available with two rooms 🤓

i'm thinking waking up to carlos eating you out to start the day off well with more to follow😵‍💫

🩵

— hmm why make it two rooms if it could be one? With one bed ofc 🤭 the team would be suspect anything, it was just a booking issue on the hotel’s end…right? 18+ content below

The tropical retreat had been Carlos’s idea, pitched to the team as a well-earned vacation to recharge and build camaraderie before the new season. What no one knew—what no one could know—was that his real agenda had little to do with team bonding. He had planned every detail, down to the “accidental” mix-up that left the two of you sharing a single room with one bed. The team didn’t suspect a thing. To them, you were the star driver, and he was the ever-professional team principal. Behind closed doors, however, things were much different.

The bed was large enough to keep up appearances, but neither of you had any intention of using all that space. You fell asleep curled against him, your limbs tangled under the soft sheets, his hand possessively resting on your bare hip. The sound of the ocean outside lulled you into a deep sleep, and you didn’t stir until the morning—when you woke to something far more intoxicating.

A low, needy moan escaped your lips before you even opened your eyes. Warmth spread from your core, the unmistakable sensation of Carlos’s mouth between your thighs pulling you from sleep. His broad shoulders pinned you down, his strong hands gripping your hips to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

“Carlos…” you gasped, your voice still rough from sleep. Your legs trembled, instinctively trying to close around his head, but he groaned against you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

“None of that, hermosa,” he murmured, his voice husky as he pulled back just enough to look up at you. His lips glistened, his dark eyes smoldering. “Let me take care of you. You’ve earned it.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before diving back in, his tongue dragging slow, deliberate circles over your clit. His movements were precise, calculated, like he had mapped every inch of you and knew exactly what would unravel you.

“You were incredible last season,” he said between licks, his voice low and reverent. “Every win, every podium—you make me so proud.” He punctuated his words with a firm suck on your clit, making your back arch and a cry fall from your lips. “I want to reward you. Motivate you to keep being my best driver.”

Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands as your hips bucked against his mouth. He let you grind against his face as he worked you closer to the edge.

“Carlos—sir—fuck—”

“That’s it, princesa,” he groaned, his voice muffled as he pressed his tongue deeper into you. “Let go. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

And you did. The orgasm hit you like a wave, your body tensing before shattering beneath him. He held you steady, his tongue working you through the high, his grip firm but tender as he murmured praises against your skin.

You were still catching your breath when he crawled up your body, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was equal parts sweet and filthy. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you want more.

“Think you got one more in you?” he asked, his voice a low rumble in your ear. You could feel him, hard and insistent against your thigh, and the look in his eyes made your stomach flip.

You briefly glanced at the clock on the nightstand, barely registering the numbers before giving him an answer. “We’ve got time, please sir.”

A smirk graced his lips, and he placed a light kiss on your lips. “Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.”

He flipped you onto your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he positioned himself behind you. He slid his cock into you in one slow, deliberate thrust, the stretch making you gasp. He didn’t wait, setting a rough pace that had you clawing at the sheets, your moans muffled by the pillow.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he drove into you. “So perfect for me.”

His hand slipped around to your front, finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The overstimulation was almost too much, but the way he moaned your name, the way he filled you completely, had you hurtling toward another orgasm.

“Come for me again, mi princesa,” he commanded, his voice rough and strained. “Show me why you’re the best.”

It didn’t take you long to shatter around him, your body shaking as he followed you over the edge, his cum spilling into you with a guttural moan. He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms and pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked skin.

“Good morning,” he murmured against your temple, his voice warm and teasing.

You laughed breathlessly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. “If this is how you want to start the day, I can’t wait to see what the rest of the week holds.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “Just wait, hermosa. I’ve got a lot planned for us.”

want more team principal!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[domm1etae]

skirt w no panties so he can slip it in whenver he wants w mingi

The moment Mingi caught sight of you leaning against the table, your skirt riding high enough to reveal your bare thighs, he felt the last thread of his self-control snap. His gaze darkened, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he stepped forward, his presence demanding.

“You’re really out here testing me, huh?” he muttered, his voice low and thick with need as he slid his hands up the backs of your thighs, his fingertips brushing the edge of your skirt. He gave a soft, satisfied hum when he found nothing underneath, his grip tightening.

He nudged your legs apart with his knee, the cold wood of the table pressing against you as he moved between them. “You did this on purpose,” he accused, though the smirk on his face betrayed how much he loved it. “Just for me.”

Before you could respond, Mingi leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss that left no room for protest. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip before he pulled away to kiss the corner of your mouth, then your jaw.

“You knew what this would do to me,” he rasped, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed his way down your neck. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further as he adjusted his stance, the rough denim of his jeans brushing against your most sensitive spot.

With a sharp tug, he pulled your hips forward, lining himself up without preamble. The warmth of his cock against your slick heat sent a shiver through you, and he groaned low in his chest. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

He pushed inside slowly, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you, filling you completely. His groan mixed with your gasp, the pressure and fullness overwhelming in the best way. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place as he pulled back and thrust in again, harder this time.

The table rocked beneath you as he set a steady rhythm, his movements deep and deliberate. Each snap of his hips drew a soft cry from you, and his smirk only grew as he watched you fall apart beneath him. “You look so good like this,” he growled, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. “Completely mine.”

One of his hands slipped up to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head so he could kiss you again, this time slower, his tongue teasing yours as his thrusts quickened. His other hand slid under your skirt, his thumb finding your clit with practiced ease. The added stimulation sent a shockwave through your body, and he chuckled darkly as your moans grew louder.

“Keep making those pretty noises for me,” he urged, his voice hoarse as he drove into you with unrelenting force. The sounds of your bodies meeting filled the air, along with the creak of the table beneath his unyielding pace.

Your nails raked down his back, your legs tightening around his waist as you reached your peak, your body clenching around him. The sensation drew a guttural moan from him, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he came, his hold on you unyielding as he buried himself to the hilt.

He stayed there for a moment, catching his breath, his forehead resting against yours. A lazy, satisfied grin spread across his face as he leaned back, his hands still roaming possessively over your thighs.

“No panties ever again,” he teased, his voice still thick with satisfaction.

[cottonlemonade]

First Date

word count: 1251 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: i have been giggling and squealing for the past 20 minutes over how cute and genius the request form is 😭 LIKE ITS SO SMART AND ADORABLE I HAD TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT IT. so anyways me and Tsukishima are getting 15 and 25 for breakfast, and then we'll go home to study! || fluffy, members of the same club, first date with crush Tsukki

Tsukishima never subscribed to the tradition of New Year's resolutions. In his mind, why bother setting unrealistic goals for oneself only to be disappointed? Whenever his friends and family asked, never learning their lesson, he would adjust his glasses and say, “Nothing.”, then silently add get saltier 2025. When he entered the gym for the first time after the winter break, however, he had to rethink. You were standing on a little stepladder, struggling to detach the last bit of Christmas decoration you had insisted on hanging on the walls before everyone went home for the holidays. Your chubby tummy looked even softer now bumping out your seasonal sweater.

“You know, if you can’t take them down by yourself, maybe you shouldn’t have put them up in the first place.”, he grumbled.

“Oh, hey, and a happy new year to you, Tsukki!”, you said brightly, turning to him and waving.

His heart did a little jump at the gesture.

Unfortunately, he had fallen for you pretty early on in your career as club manager when you bonded over your mutual hatred of overzealous people and loud obnoxious music played in department stores, and artificial watermelon flavor. He had since imagined you two walking across campus hand in hand, sharing more things to despise together. But in order to do that, he had to ask you out first. A hurdle he decided to take this year.

In his first draft of a date idea, he wanted to invite you out to dinner, but that was strongly vetoed by his wallet. Thus, a simple coffee would have to do for now. He shifted slightly, tapping the tip of his shoe on the floor to find an angle with which to direct the conversation where he needed it. Lucky for him, you did it yourself, although not in a way he hoped.

“Mikoshiba asked me out over Christmas, by the way.”

Tsukishima grimaced. He hated both the thought and the easy-going redhead, who all too much reminded him of the former Nekoma captain.

“Ah.”, he said, looking at a despicably jolly Santa bauble in the box sat on the top of the stepladder. An internal battle between wanting to ask for details and immediately smack-talking the other guy rose in his chest. Again, you made it easy for him.

“I didn’t go, though.”

“Hm. How come?”

You finally got the end of the garland off the wall, with no help from the tall boy, who could have grabbed it without effort.

He was met with a shrug.

“Not really my type. And he asked me out for coffee, which, I dunno, just feels pretty uninspired for a first date. I get that it’s a classic, but I wouldn’t mind some creativity.”, you hopped back onto the floor, “Plus, cafés around here are super overpriced.”

“Right.”

After trying your best to stuff the long prickly decoration into the box, you went to put it all away and, looking over your shoulder, you saw that he hadn’t moved from his spot next to the ladder where you left him.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him was off today. More so than usual. Box in your arms, you came to a halt in front of a closed door. You turned on your heel, tilting your head in question.

“Could you open the door to the supply closet, please?”, you asked sweetly, since there was no indication he would be coming to your aid. He seemed deep in thought.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

It only took him three steps with those long legs to reach you. Before he pushed down the door handle, however, he said, “There is a limited New Year’s hot bun out at the convenience store.”

You blinked in confusion.

“Okay?”

“It’s one with sweet potato noodles and stuff. You like those.”

“I… I do. Thanks, I’ll check it out.”

The door remained closed, his hand still on the handle.

“There is a two-for-one sale.”, he went on after a pause.

You frowned, so completely lost as to the point of this conversation because it was obviously not informing you of a banging sale. “... Nice.”

He suppressed an impatient click of his tongue. This was going horribly, how dense could someone be?

“We can go together.”, he said.

“Alright…?”

“Like… today. I’m going there now anyway. I wouldn’t mind if you came along.”

“Uhm. Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay.”

“So are you gonna open this door any time soon or…”

“Right.”

Tsukki didn’t speak much with you as you headed to the convenience store. He pointed out a dog in a sweater for no reason at all and then went silent again. You still couldn’t figure out why he wanted you to come with him. Usually, he avoided any unnecessary social situation and in your opinion, this was as unnecessary as it got. You were roughly 94 percent sure he could handle getting the buns by himself.

“We should just eat here while we’re at it.”, he said as the glass doors slid open.

Maybe he had trouble with his roommate again and wanted to prolong going home, you speculated. In that case, you were pretty touched that he preferred your company over having none at all.

Food was gathered and warmed up and you took the two free seats at the small wooden table by the onigiri shelf. Watching you struggle to open a can of soda for a few seconds he took it from you with a surprisingly gentle, “Here. Let me.” then set it back down in front of you.

“Thanks.”

You ate in silence. Some current chart songs were coming from the overhead radio and you lightly bobbed your head along as you bit happily into the delicious hot bun. Tsukki placed a fried dumpling he had picked out as well on the plastic lid of your open container. “Try these. They’re good.”

“Famks.”, you mumbled through stuffed cheeks of sweet potato noodles and stuff, then eyed him suspiciously as you swallowed.

Either he was trying to discreetly poison you or, “Tsukki… is … is this a date?”

“What? No.”, he said quickly and lowered his head when the store clerk looked over.

“Oh okay. Just making sure.” You went back to the food, spearing the dumpling with your chopsticks but keeping an eye on him.

“If it were, it would be definitely more creative than a café though, right?”

You paused midair to your bite.

“So this is a date.”

“Yes. - No. I dunno. Don’t make it weird, okay?”

You slowly spun the dumpling around, studying Tsukki’s pink ear tips.

Never in a million years would you have guessed that this guy, who never had a nice word for anyone and less enthusiasm than a snail on a Sunday afternoon, could ever ask you out.

You considered him for a moment. He was pretty cute the way he avoided your gaze now. It was worth a try.

“Do you… like jazz?”

Tsukki squinted at you in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with you?”, he furrowed his brow but was unable to hide a relieved chuckle in there.

“Well, it was getting awkward so when in doubt, Bee Movie to the rescue.”, you laughed in your defense.

He finally cracked a proper smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Agh, okay, the next date is going to be better, I swear.”

You both nodded and grinned quietly at your dumplings, then continued to eat.

a/n: 🥺🥺🥺 dear anon, thank you so so much for that sweet message and I apologize about the delay! I hope you enjoyed this story nonetheless 🌟

Also borrowing Mikoshiba for this aka the only straight character from Free!

[stxrslutrestored]

party girl ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

starring; rafe cameron . sweetie!reader

synopsis; when you somehow end up in the hands of rafe cameron at a party, you find yourself trying all sorts of things that you’d never imagine yourself doing

content; use of cocaine, intox, slight coercion, dry humping, exhibitionism, taking of virginity (depending on how u view virginity), topper and kelce’s existence 

note; trying a new layout to match my new theme

“uhm… I think I’m just gonna go find my friends.” you try to excuse yourself from the conversation you’d find yourself caught up in with rafe cameron, you’d heard from many that he would be very bad news for you. 

he chuckles, “oh, nah,” he shakes his head, smirking down at you, “you don’t even know where your friends are. a girl like you shouldnt be walkin’ around all alone at a party like this, why don’t you come sit with me and my crowd huh?” 

you hesitate for a moment, the more rational side of your head thinking you definitely shouldn’t follow and alleged drug addicted psycho and possible murderer to his second location. the less rational side is thinking that you don’t want to be wondering around for ages looking for your friends, as it would be easier to just go with rafe and hope for the best. 

you eventually nod shyly, “okay, i guess..” you look down as rafe smiles and starts to lead you through the party, you follow him all the way downstairs to a corner where there are multiple chairs and couches placed around a coffee table that is scattered with cups, plastic baggies, pills and powder. 

rafe leads you to one of the couches, sitting down in what was presumably his spot before he went on the detour on which he acquired you. there isn’t any more space on the couch so you make to perch on the arm next to rafe, he smiles up at you. 

one of his friends – you recognise him as kelce – speaks up, “what’chu doin’ here sweetheart?” his voice is loud and yet barely audible over the buzz of the party around you. “didn’t think you were the type for this scene.” 

you shake your head timidly, doing your best to speak up and answer him, “rafe brought me,” you tell him, “i lost my friends.” kelce smirks, so does rafe’s other friend topper and you watch all three of the boys exchange looks you can’t tell the intention of.

you feel quite out of place as the men around you are all completely comfortable. they are loud and rowdy, all of them drinking or doing lines or both. you are drinking a pink fruity cocktail that you didn’t actually want for the alcohol and only asked for because it was cute and you could. 

you feel scared to chime into the conversations, so you end up not speaking until you’re finally spoken to. rafe turns up to you, that same wicked smirk plastered across his lips, “you ever done a line sweetheart?” he asks, voice carrying a suggestive tone. 

you immediately shake your head, “of course not. that stuff is so bad for you… i couldn’t ever destroy my body like that.” you say confidently, but then immediately realise your mistake of criticising the use of drugs, in a room full of people who do drugs, everyone is looking at you now. you smile uncomfortably, “but i don’t mind that you guys do it.. that’s.. just fine.” 

rafe chuckles, patting your shoulder, “no you’re right. shits terrible for the body,” he affirms your point, “feels too good to stop though.” he finishes, before leaning down to snort another line off the table. 

topper looks up to you, “maybe you should try some,” he suggests, “would make you understand us, not be so quick to judge.” he smiles smugly up at you. 

“i’m not sure,” you rush out, “i don’t know if my tolerance will be good enough for coke.” you try to make an excuse. rafe sits up, looking right up to you, his hand comes up to wrap around your shoulder, making it hard for you to not slip off the arm of the couch and land in his lap. 

rafe speaks, “nah it’s not that bad.” he assures, “toppers right. why don’t you try it, to expand your horizons.” 

you shake your head, “I couldn’t possibly—“ but rafe cuts you off, clearly set on his motive now. 

“just a little bit,” he smiles, holding a line on his thumb, right there for you to accept. you feel like you can’t say no. 

“I don’t know how to do it,” you inform him and he chuckles, patting his leg. with everyone watching there’s really not much you can do, so you scoot over to sit on his lap, looking around the room self consciously. 

rafe chuckles, lining his hands up under your nose, “when I say, you just sniff, okay?” he says and you nod timidly. a few seconds pass and then rafe speaks, “go.” you immediately sniff, scrunching your face up as you feel the powder go up your nose. you feel the urge to sneeze but you just about manage to hold it back.

rafe smiles, rubbing your back as the others around the table cheer just a little. it’s already starting to hit you, the high, its weird, like everything is a bit distorted, sounds muffled, faces blurred, you feel good. 

soon you’re the highest in the room, despite probably being the one on the least substance. you’re now completely comfortable in rafe’s lap, leaning against his chest and almost constantly giggling at something in passing. 

something else is happening too, you’re starting to shed, that means you are beginning to want to get more comfortable, first taking your hair down and then removing your coat, now you want to take off the tights under your dress. with no social awareness due to the fact that well, youre up in the clouds, you stand from rafe’s lap and begin to pull them down as if undressing yourself. 

“woah there,” topper laughs, “bit forward don’t you think.” he jokes, looking to kelce as they both laugh at your behaviour. rafe smiles up at you, a different look in his eyes. 

“getting hot there?” he asks and you nod, assuming he’s referring to temperature. “need somethin’ to calm you down a little bit? i think you do.” 

you frown, “like what?” 

rafe smiles and leans back on the couch, spreading his legs and patting his leg, “come here and get yourself off.” he says, it’s blunt and forward and surprising. but in your drug addled mind, it just doesn’t take you aback.

almost without hesitation you start to approach, the only thing that makes you stop and think is topper and kelce in the back, laughing and saying something about ‘oh shit she’s really about to do it,’ and ‘didn’t think his plan would really work.’ 

you only look back for a second though, you decide fuck it! you climb into rafe’s lap, straddling him. you lean into his chest and without second thought you start to grind against his crotch. the material of his pants is rough against your pussy that is only covered by your thin little panties.

but you allow yourself to forget that, and soon you’re losing yourself in the feeling of deep, pleasurable stimulation. your head is thrown back and you’re moaning out loud, uncaring of the looks you get from all over the room. 

its minutes of total bliss for you until you finally reach an orgasm, you nearly scream in pleasure. you’re so high and happy that you don’t even register the fact that this is the first ever orgasm you’ve experienced. 

when you’re done with your moment of bliss you flop into rafe’s chest, completely spent and ready to crash from your high. the last thing you hear before basically passing out is something from toppers mouth, “guess she really is a party girl.” 

[hiraizyo]

i’ve been thinking only of you.

synopsis — the lines between your agreement with daniela begin to blur the longer it continues, causing serious confusion of feelings.

friends with benefits, slight fluff, jealous!dani, lesserafim 6th member!reader

now playing: woo, by rihanna

a/n: here y’all go! this is a little longer than i expected, so i split it up into three parts :) the second part should be up in a few days. there’s also slight kazuha x reader, also not proofread!

when you first met daniela avanzini, it was during lesserafim’s surprise greeting with the dream academy girls. from the moment you stepped foot into the dance room, you couldn’t keep your eyes off her.

the second time you met her was after the katseye members had been announced, and your group had promotions to do in america. yunjin, being the social butterfly she is, arranged for the two groups to meet up during a free day within your schedule.

you and daniela hit it off immediately. spending the whole day side by side, wandering off together while the other girls waited in line for a carnival ride, clinging onto each others arms. by the end of your little outing, you and daniela had exchanged numbers, texting each other when you had the chance despite the time difference and the busy schedules.

the third time you saw one another, katseye had come to south korea. upon hearing this news, daniela immediately set up a date for the two of you to hang out together.

that day, while it was only you and her in the room of your dorm, the dynamic shifted. you now saw her in a different light. there was something about her that kept you entranced, wanting to feel her close, her body against yours.

this marked the beginning of your agreement.

you understood each other — the busy schedules, the overworking, the long hours of learning and practicing choreography, all the time spent in the studio. the stress of being in a girl group allowed for you and her to take it out on one another in the best way possible; ravishing her body as she would do to yours.

the rules were simple. you were not to tell anyone about the arrangement, nor were you allowed to leave any evidence of being together. that meant no hickeys, no scratch marks, no leaving clothes at each other’s dorms, and no staying the night.

to the public and group members, you were simply good friends. but behind closed doors, that was when the truth about you and daniela came out, allowing for your deepest desires to rise above the surface.

at first, it was easy.

months had gone by without a single slip up, meeting one another whenever either of you were in the same country. although as time went on, neither of you could deny you were falling deeper into each other, no matter how much of an attempt there was to hide it.

but you had to remind yourselves that this was all fun and games, nothing was to be taken seriously.

the first time daniela could feel the strings of her heart being tugged was the when you had broken one of the rules. you knew it was dangerous territory, but it was late, and daniela’s bed was even more comfortable than you remember. the kats’ would be out for a few more hours, and the moment they were out the door she was calling you over, the empty place allowing for you and her to have as much fun as you could.

the latino shifted to lay on her stomach beside you, leaning up her forearms that were tucked under a pillow. you lay with your head facing up, one hand tucked behind your head while the other rests atop your stomach, body being covered by the sheet.

daniela gazed at you, her eyes tracing over your neck and collarbones. “do you want to stay the night?” she asked, quietly.

you looked at the girl, her lips bruised and her curls a mess. it was silent for a moment, as daniela watched you think over her proposal.

“dani, i shouldn’t…” you whispered, voice hoarse.

you turned to look for the nearest article of clothing you could find, knowing where this was leading. it caused you to run a hand through your hair, avoiding her gaze. daniela brought up a hand to rest on your shoulder, her touch warm.

“i know we have all the rules, but this won’t mean anything.” she insisted, her nails raking over your skin. “c’mon, it’s late, and it’s dark out.”

you sighed, staring at her for a moment. “fine.”

realizing she had won you over, daniela smiled, her pearly white teeth on display. she shuffled closer to place a kiss on your cheek, earning a chuckle from you.

you moved your hand away from behind your head until it rested on her lower back, tapping your pinky and ring finger just above her ass.

“but we should get dressed at least, i doubt manon will let you live this down if she finds us naked and sleeping together.” you told her, cheeky smile in place.

she nodded, understanding where you were coming from. and when she moved off the bed to search for hers and your clothing that had been wildly scattered around the room, you couldn’t help but shamelessly stare at her body.

the following morning, while the rest of the girls were all in their rooms still sound asleep, you and daniela stood in the kitchen of the katseye house. it was early in the day, but you needed to be back at the hotel lesserafim was staying at before leaving for you scheduled plans.

you pecked daniela’s lips, tasting the remnants of the coffee she had finished. “thank you for breakfast.”

“you’re welcome.” she grinned, trailing her hands up until they wrapped around your neck and kissed you again.

you smiled into the kiss, letting yourself relax in the intimate moment, until you remembered where you were.

you pulled away, alarm clear in your eyes. “aren’t you worried about the girls?”

daniela played with your baby hairs as she smirked. her lips ghosted over yours, whispering, “we’re sneaking around, this is what makes it fun.”

before you could speak again, she shut you up with another kiss. rough and fast paced, you kissed one another with passion as you knew this would be the last time you’d see one another for a while. her hands tangled in your hair, while yours gripped her waist tightly.

a few more seconds went by, and when you finally separated both of your cheeks were flushed, chests moving up and down in quick motion.

daniela bit her lip, moving her hands down until she was holding onto the chain of your necklace, twisting it between her fingers. “this is cute.”

“you think so?” you glanced down at the necklace briefly, smiling when you saw the latina nod.

you moved her hands away from you, letting them go and reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace. with ease, you placed it around her neck, and fastened the necklace. it dropped around her neck, hanging loosely as you settled your hands on her shoulders.

“you should have it.” you told her, brushing her hair behind her shoulders to admire the way the necklace looked on her.

daniela looked at you with a blush, her eyes shining with wonderment. she could feel her body fill with warmth, her stomach fluttering.

for a moment, everything around you stilled in place as you stared at the stars in her eyes.

she lightly pushed against your chest, her heart stuttering at the brief intimate moment. clearing your throat, you took a quick look at the clock hanging in the wall, realizing you’d have to leave now before chaewon would start calling your phone.

“i’ll see you in a couple weeks.” you told her once you were standing outside the door.

daniela was leaning against the doorframe, nodding along as she said her final goodbyes. she watched as you walked off, back now facing her.

when she made her way back to the kitchen, she was playing with your necklace absentmindedly, not noticing megan standing by the coffee machine, yawning.

“morning.” daniela greeted her, cleaning up the cups and plates from having breakfast with you.

“oh, hey.” megan replied, watching her friend move around the kitchen. “did yn just leave?”

“yup.” the latina nodded, and began running water in the sink for the dishes. “she said she needed to get back or else chaewon would have her head.” daniela laughed, remembering the description you gave her of seeing chaewon angry, like a young puppy.

megan positively shook her head, moving around the kitchen silently as she opened the draw for a tea spoon and some sugar from the cupboard. she made her cup of coffee quickly, stirring the drink together with milk.

“you guys are getting really close.” the ginger noted, taking a small sip of her drink after blowing on it.

daniela could feel a heart a skip a beat, wondering if megan has any suspicions of your agreement. she wiped her hands on a hand towel, facing her friend with a small smile, leaning against the counter, trying to seem as comfortable as possible.

“yeah, i mean, we’re becoming good friends.” daniela said, coughing lightly. she subtly breathed in a deep breath, trying to control her heart rate.

megan took another sip, tapping her finger on the side of the mug as she set it down on the kitchen island. “i take it you know about kazuha then.”

daniela tilted her head, curiosity now creeping in on her. “what?”

her eyebrows were creased together in interest. the reaction told megan that she was unaware, but the ginger didn’t think much of it as she continued with her story.

“yn and kazuha?” she leaned to rest her chin on her hand that was on the counter. “they had a thing a while back. i don’t know much of the details, but yunjin was telling me about it cause she’s worried it’s starting up again.”

daniela froze, her body running cold.

what the fuck was megan talking about?

the latina had never heard about you and kazuha being a thing. not once had you mentioned it to her, and she didn’t pick up on any weird vibes between you two when lesserafim and katseye were together a couple months ago.

she forced a smile. “yeah, no, uhm… i-i heard about it. little things, here and there.” she lied, her focus wavered as she stared in front of her.

megan hummed before beginning to talk about the events of the day. the group would be going into the studio, preparing for a new release. daniela, on the other hand, drowned out her words.

nakamura kazuha. you and kazuha. when did this happen? how long ago? and was it like what you and daniela were doing now? or was it something more?

she shook her head, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. she decided it wasn’t worth her time, and daniela knew if you didn’t saying anything about you and japanese girl then it was for good reason.

daniela never considered herself a jealous person.

she was secure enough to not be bothered by feelings like that. she knew she was a catch, and that anyone would be lucky to be with her. she was confident in herself, in her abilities, in her way to easily make any person fall in love with her.

so why was she so pressed about kazuha?

daniela didn’t want it to worry her, but the more she thought about it, the more a fire began to burn in her chest. the tight, hot feeling spread through her body as she watched a past live on her phone. staring back at her, was a video focused on you and the japanese from a couple days ago, when lesserafim had done group live.

kazuha sat in between you and eunchae, wearing a checkered flannel that showed this was a pretty casual and last minute decision to go live. beside her, you wore a black sweatshirt, with matching black sweatpants. daniela couldn’t help but stare, thinking you looked absolutely stunning despite the low effort outfit.

the japanese girl lay her head on your shoulder, laughing at something yunjin was saying in the background. daniela wasn’t taking note of anything, solely focused on the interactions between you and the other girl.

her jaw clenched as she watched you intertwine your hand together with hers, leaning your head back against the wall.

her attention shifted once yunjin’s forehead came into the frame, reading some of the comments. the american chuckled to herself, looking back at you and then at the phone once again. “yn, some one asked ‘is it true that you have a soft spot for kazuha?’” yunjin leaned away, gasping and pointing, “yes! fearnots, is it sooo true!”

your free hand was quick to rise up in the hair, shaking it violently. “that is not, jennifer! i love all my members equally!”

eunchae swat your arm playfully, her wide smile showing that she was clearly joking, but the rage daniela felt inside her didn’t see this as a joke.

“unnie, don’t lie!” she cackled, “i’ve seen it with my own eyes, anything i ask for you say no. but if zuha-unnie asks you’re immediately saying yes!”

the maknae nodded enthusiastically, trying to make it seem as if she wasn’t making this up. you shook your head, rolling your eyes at your youngest members antics.

chaewon chimed in, “remember that time we wanted to go out to eat, but yn said she was too tired? then when kazuha spoke about it, she was the first one out the door!”

the three girls all laughed, collectively shouting over one another as they recalled the memory. sakura tried her best to calm them down, trying to do some damage control.

daniela continued to watch as you weakly defended yourself, while kazuha pulled you into her and whispered in your ear. your cheeks flushed pink, then you snuggled closer to her, and daniela wondered to herself what the girl told you in that moment.

she locked her phone, the video cutting out and all she was left in was the silence of her thoughts. daniela had a sour expression, dropping her phone on the bed and turning to lay on her back.

she thought over the conversation with megan. what did she mean when she said yunjin was worried about things starting up again between you and kazuha?

“oh, for fucks sakes.” daniela groaned, running a hand through her hair.

manon heard her sound of displeasure as she walked into their shared room, closing the door behind her. “what’s got you so fired up?”

daniela rolled her eyes, “nothing.” she huffed, voice sharp. it was a little more aggressive than she intended, earning a teasing smile from her roommate.

“damn, who pissed in your cereal?” the girl chuckled, walking over to her side of the room and looking around in her closet.

daniela glared at the back of her friend, digging her nails into her hand. she didn’t reply, knowing that she would end up saying something she didn’t mean.

the sound of her ringtone caught her attention. she reached for her phone, sitting up in bed and saw your name flash across the screen.

for a second, her anger washed away.

she bit her lip, contemplating her thoughts. daniela’s gaze switched between her phone and manon, deciding to walk out the room in search for a more private space.

“hey,” she said as soon as she answered.

“hi pretty girl.” your voice came through the phone, as daniela sat on the couch. she made sure no one was around, playing with your necklace.

“why’d you call?” daniela asked. her mind was still focused on the live she had seen, the necklace now feeling like a cold burn on her skin.

you laughed lowly, “i wanted to talk to you, hear your voice.”

the words flowed easily off your lips, as if it meant nothing to you. but to daniela, it made her feel special. you wanted to talk to her, even if hours prior you were in the arms of kazuha.

she felt her lips tug upwards, a small smile in place. it did little to overshadow the jealousy she felt, but she had no right to feel this way. she knew that.

“well, you’re hearing it now.” she replied, masking her feelings. “wait— isn’t it late over there by you?”

her concern was valid, knowing the time difference was quite large. it made it difficult to communicate at times, but you and daniela worked around it as much as possible.

you shuffled around your room, the noise being heard on daniela’s end of the call. “don’t worry about that.” you told her, settling into your bed. “so, i’m coming to LA next week for a few photoshoots. i was hoping we could see each other again.”

daniela’s heart stuttered. here she was, being jealous of you and your group member, but all you wanted to do was see her. it had been over a month and half since the last time you’d been together, and you missed her much more than you’d like to admit.

“uh, i don’t know. i’ll have to check my schedule first.” daniela brushed off her nervous feeling, dismissing you completely.

“oh,” you mumbled, voice dropping. “i’m flying in on the thursday, but the saturday is one of my off days. do you think that’ll work for you?”

daniela let your necklace drop from her hand, instead picking at a loose thread of a couch pillow. “i was supposed to go out with lara on saturday.”

you swallowed, feeling a weird sensation in your chest at the mention of the girl. “ooh, replacing me now, are you?”

daniela giggled, moving the phone to her other hand so that she could press to her left ear. “maybe,” she played into your teasing. “does that bother you?”

“not at all.” you grinned, flexing your hand as you stared at it. “as long as i get to have you by the nighttime, it all works out.”

the latina pouted, “so, you’re just using me for sex?”

you chuckled, “was i being that obvious?”

she gasped at your words, and you could already imagine the mock offended look on her face. you laughed even more at the image you had in your head.

“that was such an douche move.” she scolded, her smile widening as she tried to sound upset. “you can forget about seeing me!”

“oh, come on,” you sighed heavily for dramatic effect. “i was only kidding. you’re much more to me than sex, babe.”

daniela paused her breathing, wishing what you had said was true. she blinked a couple times, distracting herself so that she wouldn’t face the truth of her feelings.

“you still there?” your voice cuts into her thoughts, reminding her of what was happening.

“yeah, sorry.” she mumbled. daniela cracked her knuckles of her right hand with her thumb. “uh— saturday works.”

“great!” you exclaimed, turning to lay on your side. “i have a little surprise, just so you know.”

before daniela could ask any further questions, you let her know that you were going to sleep, needing to be up early in the morning. she wished you a goodnight, and was left staring down at the material of the couch.

she wasn’t jealous, she couldn’t be. and she wasn’t allowed to be either, you weren’t hers, nor you were anything serious.

it was a harsh reminder that she chanted in her head, even when she restlessly lay in bed later than night, struggling to fall asleep.

i don’t know if i like this??

also felt like it was getting a little long and i lowk struggle with writing long imagines (personal preference) butttt i have some more ideas for the plot to progress, thats why i split it up into 3 parts :)