#Featured: 3 equal - boxed

[otomobilhaber]

21 Photos That Might Make You Laugh For Once In Your Life

Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. 1. Image with share buttons A small river named Duden flows. Source: MediaSource Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live…

[a-hermit-pining]

I saw this on Twitter (i forgot the @), but it really got me thinking. What would your hc be if the boys were playing the game and you were the mc? I hc that Caleb would save every "y/n laughing compilation" he comes across, rafayel would edit y/n's face on random fish and make crack edits and from his alt account he would drop the most gorgeous fanart, and for some reason I feel like sylus would use "quality time" religiously

Hi anon, thank you for sending this in ^^

I completely agree with your takes. Here is my take to compliment yours.

Rafayel: Is the undisputed Fanart King, sketching your character from every angle, in every possible outfit. If an art contest exists, he has already submitted three entries before anyone even knew it was happening. But beyond his artistic obsession, he is also the cursed glitch hoarder. While normal people would be horrified at a headless version of you appearing in-game, Rafayel takes screenshots for exclusive content, considering it a divine blessing from the tech gods. Despite his god-tier art skills, he has zero patience for level locks that force him to wait before progressing, so instead of playing at a normal pace, he rage-quits for months, then returns to binge the game in one sleepless week. His camera roll is half fanart, half stunning in-game scenery that he edits like it’s going in an art gallery.

Xavier: Does not play games for casual enjoyment. He plays for answers. He is a speedrun menace, hitting the first dialogue option before the text box even fully loads. If he gets stuck, he immediately transforms into a lore-devouring beast, reading every spoiler possible just to figure out how to proceed. The only thing keeping him from fully losing his sanity is his refusal to buy premium currency, his pride dictates that he must grind every last diamond by sheer willpower alone. And so, he hoards gems like his soul depends on it, progresses at breakneck speed, and once he’s finished all available content, he descends into 3 AM theory rabbit holes instead of doing something sane like, you know… sleeping. He probably has a color-coded spreadsheet tracking all the route impacts.

Zayne: No one would ever suspect that the infamous, critically acclaimed AO3 writer Frozen Seal, master of soul-crushing angst and tender, breathtaking romance, is actually the stoic, overworked cardiologist Zayne. His fics have a reputation for being so emotionally devastating that readers leave essays in the comments. His update schedule? Completely dictated by his hospital shifts. His author’s notes? Usually something like "Sorry, a patient coded. Will update later." Writes the most heart-wrenching, steamy romance scenes with surgical precision, leaving readers sobbing and sweating in equal measure. Has the smut writing skills of an ace author- which are god tier. Daydreams about you constantly, except when he’s actively resuscitating someone (Even he has limits.)

Sylus: Sylus owns everything. Every premium outfit, every pose, every CG. His entire paycheck is funneled into this game, and no one will ever know the full extent of his power. If questioned about how he maxed out every possible feature, he simply smirks and says, “Skill issue.” But despite single-handedly funding the dev team, he is infuriatingly secretive about his content. His in-game gallery? Locked. His premium screenshots? Hidden. Some speculate he has developers tied up in his basement feeding him exclusive content, but according to Sylus, it’s simply the fruit of his labor. Strangely enough, despite having literally everything, he still has beef with the gacha system and will cuss out the algorithm if he doesn’t get his way.

Caleb: Is cursed with abysmal gacha luck, pulling three-star memories every single time without fail. He suffers, but at this point, he embraces the suffering like a tragic hero. His nights are spent watching crack compilations at 2 AM, laughing silently to himself like a man on the verge of losing his mind (he is this 🤏🏻close). By all accounts, he plays the game rationally until your character appears, at which point all logic is abandoned. He has every single one of Zayne’s fics bookmarked, and he doesn’t just skim he analyzes them like scholarly literature, leaving long, heartfelt comments. And, of course, in the quiet solitude of his room, a freakishly realistic body pillow of you sits on his bed. If questioned? He doesn’t even blink. "It’s a limited-edition collector’s item."

[peachessndreamss]

Comfort in You

Summery : After a long and boring council meeting, Cregan looks for comfort with his wife, and she finds comfort from him.

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings : Lactation, drinking of breast milk, P in V sex

Word count : 2.3k

A/N : Well, here we are. All my Cregan pieces can be enjoyed alone but are all interconnected and feature the same Lady Stark their children.

peachessndreamss Masterlist l peachessndreamss ask box

Cregan Stark had developed a throbbing headache an hour into the meeting of the Winterfell council and had now sat with the pain for what felt like days as the sky outside the window had grown dark, and fat, wet flakes of snow had started to fall. The cup boy had filled and refilled Cregan’s cup with weak beer as he drank simply to have something to do with his hands.  

The sounds of the courtyard outside the window had changed from the clack and crash of combat training to the squealing laughter of play as the younger inhabitants of the castle had finished their days' lessons and had been sent out to run off their remaining energy. The smell of roasting meat was wafting around the keep and Cregan felt his stomach squeeze with hunger. 

The Master of Coin continued to speak on the taxes being imposed for goods travelling the Kings Road when Cregan decided he had finally had enough. Without comment he stood, looking similar to a moving fur covered mountain, took hold of his cup, raised it to the other men around the table in a silent toast before draining it in a single mouthful and putting it back down on the table with a heavy thud.

“We'll leave it there today,” he said before turning to the doors and striding from the room. 

He crashed through the heavy, double oak doors and into the main hall of Winterfell. Here the smell of food was even stronger and the room was full of people setting up for the evening meal, laying trenchers and wooden cups along the long tables running the length of the hall. Several large fires burned along the walls and in places where the light from the fire didn't reach there were torches burning merrily. 

The head table of the great hall was already laid with pewter plates and silver goblets. Beside his own great chair in the centre of the table his equally large wolfhound was sleeping, the great shaggy beast’s snoring could be heard over the sound of the crackling fires and laughing screams from the children playing in the courtyard. 

Crossing the hall, Cregan took the tightly spiralled staircase to the 1st floor, heading directly for Lady Stark’s chambers. 

He knocked once before pushing open the door, Lady Stark's chambers were always warmer than anywhere else in the Keep and Cregan immediately shrugged off his heavy fur lined robe and draped it over the back of a large chair. He moved through the main room towards the sleeping chambers, where his wife was sitting in the window seat, their 3 month old son cradled against her chest. 

She looked up as he walked into the room and her face broke into a glorious smile. 

“My lord,” she greeted softly.

“My love,” he replied as he sat heavily on the end of their bed and started to unlace his boots. 

“How was your council?” She asked. 

Cregan sighed deeply, his head dropping forward, his chin almost resting on his chest, he paused for a moment before turning to face her, looking at her from under his brows.

“Never has there been a council of men so dull,” he replies, the corners of his lips turning up. 

Lady Stark laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps they find their lord rather dull in return?” She countered, fighting a grin. 

“Do you find me dull, my love?” Cregan asked as he stood and moved towards his wife. 

He bent down and kissed her cheek before kissing the crown of his son's head. 

“Are you well?” He asked, touching the tip of his nose to hers. 

“We're well,” she replied, smiling down at the child, “this one's appetite takes after his father,” she added, lifting the child up and allowing Cregan to take the boy from her arms. 

Despite the jostling movement as he was passed from one parent to the other, the boy stayed fast asleep as Cregan cradled him against his chest. 

“Let's give your mother a rest shall we?” He crooned as he carried his son towards his crib placed at the end of their bed.

Once the child was placed safely in his crib, Cregan turned back to his wife as she stood slowly from her seat, the long, dark skirt of her velvet robe dropping to the floor with a swish.  She smiled at him before stepping towards him and falling into his arms. Cregan pulled her tightly to his body, his cheek resting on the top of her head as her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. 

“Come and lie down with me,” Cregan said softly as he turned the two of them toward the large, wooden framed bed that dominated the room, “we should rest,”. 

With his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders he encouraged her toward the bed, taking Lady Stark’s hand as she sat on the edge before slipping back and setting against the pillows before Cregan joined her. 

He slipped one arm behind her back and rested his head onto her chest. She winced in discomfort at the weight of him on her sensitive breasts but Cregan remained oblivious, he had closed his eyes and a small smile had turned up the corners of his lips as he felt all the tension in his head disappearing as he  tightened his arms around her waist. She ran her fingers up and down his back, her own eyes closing as the warmth of his body soothed her aches and pains. 

She was half asleep when Cregan shifted his head, the change in pressure and weight of his head sent a spike of pain through her breasts and she gave a sudden cry of pain and surprise. 

Cregan bolted upright, concern furrowed his features as he looked over her for sign of injury. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” she said with a shake of her head as she placed her hand over her aching breast, trying to dull the pain, “I’m just full to bursting,”. 

Cregan’s brows furrowed as he glanced toward the plump baby sleeping at the foot of their bed. 

“He takes all he can,” Lady Stark said with a tired smile, “but I’m making enough to feed twins, or half the babes in the winters town,” she added, feeling tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. 

“Oh my poor love,” Cregan said softly, leaning toward her and taking her face in his hands, stroking his thumb over her cheek, “I did know you were suffering so,”. 

“I could take a job as a wet nurse,” she joked, as distressed by the worry on his face as the pain in her breasts. 

Cregan’s eyes travelled from her face down to her swollen breasts where his focus lingered and he felt his blood starting to heat. He glanced back up to her face, a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Would you let me help you?” he asked, his voice soft. 

“And how do you propose to help?” she replied, her mind racing with possibilities. 

Cregan smiled playfully before leaning forward and kissing his wife softly on the lips.

“With my mouth, of course,” he replied, his voice a warm whisper against her lips. 

Lady Stark pulled back from him just a little so she could look in his eyes. 

“Do you mean it?” she asked, already feeling her nipples prickling at the thought of his mouth on them. 

“I would do anything to end your suffering my love,” he said softly, “I’d burn myself alive to keep you warm,”. 

She pushed her fingers through his thick, dark hair and brushed it behind his ear, feeling the burn of tears in her eyes as a wave of emotion rolled over her. Love radiated from his body the same way heat did. 

“Please help me,” she whispered with a nod before moving her hands to the small, pearl buttons that held together her velvet robe. 

Underneath was a simple linen shift held together at the neck by bows of ivory colour ribbon, Lady Stark felt heat burning her neck when she noticed the two damp patches where her milk had already leaked. Cregan pulled at the first ribbon, undoing them one at a time until the garment fell open and fully exposed her swollen breasts. 

“Oh my love,” he whispered, “my poor love,”. 

Cregan lowered himself from a sitting position to resting on one elbow, bringing his face inline with her chest. He lent forward, finding his mouth was already watering and his cock was straining in his breeches. He swallowed hard as a small bead of milk appeared on her nipple as if it had been waiting for him. 

He turned his gaze up to her face, looking up at her through his dark lashes. 

“May I?” He beseeched softly. 

Lady Stark nodded, and watched open mouthed as his eyes dropped from her face back to her breasts before closing as he moved forward just enough to take her aching nipple into his mouth and giving it a gentle, experimental suck. 

The wet heat of his mouth acted like a balm on the sore skin of her nipples and she felt the thrill of arousal as he licked his tongue around while sucking. 

She gave a small cry of surprise as she felt the milk begin to flow, tension melting from her muscles as she relaxed back against the pillows, slipping one arm over Cregan’s back and pulling him closer. Cregan groaned with pleasure as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of sweet milk. 

Cregan broke away from her nipple with a soft, wet sound. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were glossy and dazed as he looked up at her. 

“You’re so sweet,” he whispered as he rearranged himself slightly and took her second nipple in his mouth and started to drink. 

The relief flooding through Lady Stark’s body was palpable, she no longer felt like her skin was stretched too tightly, the muscles of her back and neck had stopped aching and the constant pain at the base of her skull seemed to be lessening with every pull of Cregan’s soft lips. 

Lady Stark moved her hand up his back and pushed her fingers into his hair, letting her nails drag along his scalp, causing a shiver to run down Cregan’s spine and a quiet moan rumbled through his chest. 

She could feel the flow of milk slowing as Cregan gave a few final draws on her nipple, desperate to get as much as her body had to offer him. He twisted his tongue around her impossibly hard nipple once more before breaking contact, leaning back a little and looked up at his wife. 

“Better?” he asked, his head spinning and his voice husky with lust. 

“Much” she breathed, hardly able to form a sensible thought. 

Cregan’s free hand ghosted down his stomach and stopped over the now obvious bulge in the front of his trousers. He took a deep breath as he gripped his cock and squeezed, willing away his arousal. 

“Cregan?” Lady Stark said softly, “let me help you,”. 

“No, no, you don’t need to,” he replied, trying and failing to pull on his deep reserves of willpower and self control. 

“Make love to me, please Cregan,” she implored him, feeling her own arousal matched his but was just less obvious. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, sitting up to unlace the ties at the front of his breaches, “Are you ready?”. 

“I’m ready,” she replied, drawing the skirt of her shift up her legs and pulling it off over her head, leaving her naked and aching in a new way. 

Cregan couldn’t look away from her as he fought his way out off his breaches, kicking the off the edge of the bed with before moving with the ease and grace of a wolf hunting its prey he moved across the bed and covered her body with his, pressing her back into the mattress and the pillows with his weight. 

Her legs parted for him, lifting up around his hips, she felt the hot head of his cock rub through her wet core. He pressed his lips to hers as he shifted his hips forward, his tip pressing just inside her wet body. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, his breathing heavy. 

“Please Cregan, please,” she begged, slipping her hands around his waist and pulling him toward her, feeling him stretching and filling her after 3 months of absence. 

The familiarity of each other's bodies returned as they moved together, pushing and pressing, clawing and squeezing. They climaxed together, Cregan’s groan rolling up from his chest, sounding part agony and part pleasure. 

He dropped heavily beside his wife, breathing deeply and feeling completely spent. His limbs felt like they were made of lead and he wouldn’t have been able to lift them to save his own life. Lady Stark rolled into his arms, pressing her face against his chest, breathing in the hot and homey scent of his skin. 

The two of them were on the edge of falling asleep when there was a loud thumping on the doors to the chambers. 

“Cregan?” called the rough northern voice of Martyn, Winterfell’s steward and Cregan’s oldest friend, “Cregan, they’re waiting to serve supper,”. 

Cregan gave a soft chuckle, kissing Lady Stark on the top of her head as he slipped out from under her. 

“Shall I tell him I’ve already eaten?” Cregan asked as he grabbed his trousers from the floor and dragged them on. 

Lady Stark laughed before dragging one of the furs over her body to cover herself. Cregan stood, glancing down at her watching him. 

“I’ll bring you a plate,” he said as he walked out of the bedroom and into the main chambers, picking up his boots as he left. 

“Thank you, my Lord,” she replied with a smile 

“You’re welcome, my love,”. He replied with a wink over his shoulder as he headed toward the doors and back into the world outside their chambers.

[ellovett]

. TWST STAFF OC - André-Marie Bonhomme

The now retired music professor + choir director of RSA.. click for better quality!! rbs n likes if u pls!

lore n doodles + other charas under the cut :)

-- "oh, won't you just look at my darling kittens? aren't they just divine!"

Basic Lore n Background:

André-Marie was once globally renowned across all of Twisted Wonderland as an opera singer and musician hailing from the Rose Kingdom. Featuring in very well known titles and is particularly famous for his arias and fashion, André-Marie was a gender nonconforming man and often wore hats suited more for women and long tailored dresses. He was also a standout for his fondness of cats, he owns a white turkish angora named Duke along with his three kittens: Marque, Therry, and Berenice. He takes them everywhere and is never not seen with him during interviews and press photos. A total vintage heartthrob in his youth, your mother AND your grandmother probably all have had a small crush on him at some point in their lives.

At the peak of his theatre career, André-Marie became a music professor and choir director for Royal Sword Academy and quickly became beloved. As a professor André-Marie was very kind and wise towards his students, has fostered young minds into musical geniuses upon graduation. (example: famed jazz musician and current RSA music professor Rudolph Darleigh, who was under his mentorship). The old man's exceedingly wealthy and loves luxury and designer fashion, though he is not vain in anyway whatsoever. On the contrary, he's really charitable, and shares his wealth liberally.

As of now he's living in his lavish countryside estate with his cats and his butler, Edwin Blanchard. Happily retired, he occasionally writes letters to Rudolph and Ambrose the 63rd to see how the academy's doing.

Edwin also belongs to @shoujoqueensstuff :3

Personality:

André-Marie Bonhomme is a kind and gentle old man at heart. Dignified and effortlessly elegant, André is genuine in every sense of the word and often gives more than he takes. Though famous for his high fashion and beckoning stage presence, he has always shunned the vanity and ego often associated with being an old almost Hollywood-like celebrity. He treats those around him with profound respect, often insisting on being spoken to as an equal, especially by those in service to him, such as his devoted butler, Edwin.

He is immensely patient and nurturing, especially to young artists or musicians. Even in his retirement, he remains passionate about teaching, sometimes offering advice to almuni who seek it or mentoring from afar via letters and recommendations. Music has always been a huge part of his life, he's a vocal genius and has a beautiful operatic singing voice.

Despite his refined image, he has a sharp wit and a cheeky teasing sense of humor, often surprising those who expect only aloof grace. He adores his cats like family, and nothing brings him more joy than a quiet morning with Duke and the kits curled in his lap and a record spinning in the background. He always fusses over them and makes sure they're treated lavishly at all times, one of the only few instances André's willing to be selifsh.

Even though he lives mostly alone without relatives with only his cats and Edwin for company, André can be quite the romantic! He's very affectionate with friends and to those he cares about, often spoils them luxuriously.

Him when he was younger!

Trivia

André loves singing to his cats, they're pretty much the only audience he's really willing to belt out in front of. And they make for great listeners!

Sang the lead in "The Thorned Crown," a Queendom of Roses opera inspired by the founding myth of the Queen of Hearts herself! It's his most recognized piece.

Likes dropping by during the annual VDC's, just to experience and appreciate the music and art of schools from all over, he's an honored guest, and performing RSA students vy to impress him!

Collects music boxes and antique perfume bottles. His home smells like lavender, bergamot, and old sheet music.

Famously has never had a lover, despite having all the qualities of a bonafide bachelor. He's always said he's content being on his lonesome, breaking the hearts of many.. 💔

[thepinkprincesss]

BABYDADDY!JJ ✗ READER 𐙚

haii guys !! this is based off this ask :p

pairings ፧ babydaddy!jj ✗ reader

warnings ፧ violence , language , jj being a deadbeat :3 , mention of sex , reader being a homie hopper :333 , 🦄

just as you'd thought finally, babydaddy!jj would step up and try to at least be a father to your babygirl— just like that he was gone. you'd opened yourself up to him like a fool that night when he'd wandered on your doorstep, walking straight into his words like a mouse would a trap. he hadn't even stayed long enough to see your babygirl awake, long enough to see that she began to develop his features and she'd inherited those eyes that you fell in love with when you were young which seemed like a life time ago now, in a twisted way your happy he didn't. if he'd stayed for breakfast your sure that your daughter would then expect him everyday— he saved her the heartbreak.

it'd been a few months from then now, your baby girl had been developing rapidly in the past few months, growing and reaching new milestones every day. she'd recently hit the age where she'd began to babble, trying to form words and sounds. she'd even started crawling and taking her first few steps, albeit more of a stumbling than actual walking, but progress was progress, and you could hardly believe how fast she was growing.

she’d become a constant topic of conversation between you and john b- as he’d unexpectedly been around more often to see her and pitch in for diapers and formula, you saw him more than you saw your actual baby daddy. john b had showed up at your doorstep like his best friend— sharing the same traits and actions. but the brunette wasn't there to just sweet-talk you and fuck you then leave the moment it ended, he'd approached you with a box stuffed with all sorts of different pattern onesies aimlessly with sizes he'd thought fit your baby. from that day on it'd become a daily occurrence where john b was at your apartment, either laying a helping hand with your sweet girl or providing her resources.

everyone automatically assumed that you and john b had something going on, from the way he'd entered your apartment at four o'clock and left at eight o'clock— it raised suspicion from the cut, everyone who was associated with the pogues knew that you were jj's girl, his baby mama and someone that was meant to be left untouched like a piece of cake in a fridge full of hungry people. john b knew that. he'd heard and got first hand reality if anyone were to cross you in any way that the blonde wouldn't hesitate to resort to violence. , yet again the brunette was up in your apartment caring for you and your daughter. playing the daddy role.

it did something to you, the way john b cared and stepped up for your daughter. he'd been so soft and gentle with her, cautious since the moment he met her. you couldn't help but want to give him his own baby, you felt ashamed even giving attention to those thoughts that circled your head— if jj could have full access to anyone he wanted, why couldn't you? just because you bore his baby meant you were instantly off-limits to anyone? you weren't wrong for having a little fun. so yes, you did seduce him, and he didn't exactly reject you.

oh did jj catch you off guard. it’d been a long day, filled with the usual hustle and bustle that came with being a parent. you were tired and feeling rather worn out from all the emotional and physical exertions that came with caring for an infant. so you’d decided to have a movie night, settling in with the baby and john b. just the three of you, a nice and peaceful evening. till a knock that you swore caused trauma disturbed it. as those knocks at the door echoed throughout the four walls of your home, the movie being playing was muffled to a halt as your eyes and john b's shot to each other, both equally confused.

who would be trying to get your attention at this hour? at first, you thought it was nothing, that the wind must have knocked against the door but after a few more taps, there was no denying there was someone at your doorstep."i'll go get it. you just wait here with her." your friend spoke gently, giving you a soft smile, knowing that you were both puzzled.

he stands up and pads over to the door, his footsteps muffled against the carpet. he reaches for the handle with a furrowed brow, unsure of who could possibly be standing on the other side. the lock twists, and then he pushes the door open, and there he was. the same boy you'd been in love with since you were sixteen, the boy you shared a child with — jj maybank himself. his face was a mixture of emotions - surprised, angry, hurt. he looked tired too, like he hadn't slept properly in days. his eyes meet john b's, their gaze locked. there's a tense silence that hangs between them, a charged energy that fills the air.

your first instinct is to detach yourself from your cozy place on the couch, sensing the vibe becoming nasty. you see the drastic change on jj's face, his face becoming sour and envious, recognizing that dangerous glint in his eyes. you stand up with your baby on your hip, hurrying to set her down in her playpin then approaching the situation. "jj— what are you doing here?"

he looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. his eyes flick over your figure, taking in every detail of your appearance - the way your hair is tousled slightly from how you'd been laying on the couch, the way your top is slightly askew, exposing a bit of your collarbone. he narrows his eyes at your neck, his gaze lingering on the small mark on your skin that he knew hadn't been there before. he looks back up at your face, his jaw tense. “i could ask you the same thing.” he snaps.

you scoff, rolling your eyes at his audacity. you'd been doing it all on your own with little help from him, and now he's suddenly showing up and expecting you to explain yourself? you take a step forward, your eyes narrowing at him. "oh, so you want to act hurt now? where were you when i was up at two in the morning changing diapers and comforting our crying daughter, huh? where were you when she took her first steps, or when she said her first word? you weren't there, jj."

he bristles at your words, his lip curling in annoyance. he takes a step forward as well, closing the distance between you two. his jaw tenses and his eyes flash with something that looks a lot like guilt and regret. “yeah, so you get back at me with my best friend? proves your a fuckin' whore. real low mama.” he retorts, his voice raising slightly.

john b glares at jj, his eyes dark and angry. his protective instincts kick in, and he steps forward to stand between you and jj. "watch it maybank. she's not some side piece, she's your baby's mom. she hasn't had it easy at all." john b clenches his jaw, his body slightly tense as he stands his ground.

jj scoffs, his eyes narrowing at the sight of john b standing in front of him. his expression is almost feral, the sight of his best friend, his brother protecting the girl who he thought still belonged to him driving him insane. he takes another step forward, his chest heaving with anger. "that's the mother of my child, and your fuckin her?" he snaps, his voice dripping with jealousy and anger.

you watch the two of them, seeing the way they both glare at each other with so much anger it's almost tangible. you can feel the heat radiating off them both, the tension crackling in the air. you take a step forward, placing your hand on john b's back, trying to diffuse the situation. "stop it! just stop." you say firmly, your eyes flickering between the two boys.

john b doesn't back down, his eyes still fixed on jj with a stern expression. he feels your hand on his back and he relaxes a bit, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. jj, on the other hand, looks at you for a moment, his face softening momentarily before his expression hardens again. he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "so, y'all together or what?" he asks quietly.

you can feel the tension in the room thicken. you swallow, your heart pounding in your chest. you look from jj to john b, the two boys standing opposite each other with their eyes locked, like they were in a standoff. you take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. you know that whatever you say next could make or break the situation, and you don't want to cause any more tension between the two of them. you look at jj, your eyes meeting his gaze. "what do you mean?" you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. fully aware on what he meant.

he scoffs, the anger in his voice replaced by a hint of hurt and vulnerability. he doesn’t take his eyes off you, his gaze pinning you in place. “you know what i mean.” he pauses, taking a moment to collect himself and trying to rein in his jealously and anger. “are you with him?” john b stays silent, his eyes flickering between the two of you. he could feel the tension mounting, the silence becoming more potent. he doesn’t make any movement, waiting to see your response to jj’s question.

you can feel the weight of both boys' gazes on you, waiting for you to respond. the tension in the air is thick and palpable, and it's almost suffocating. you can sense the pain and hurt in jj's voice, the way his body language screams protectiveness. and then there's john b, his eyes fixed on you, waiting for your answer to the question that could break the three of you apart. your mind races, trying to figure out the right thing to say — the only thing you can manage is a soft, quiet whimper, which escapes your lips involuntarily.

jj's expression falters for a moment at the sound, his eyes softening for a split second before hardening again. the sight of you, his girl, whimpering in front of him - it did things to him that he couldn't explain. he clenches his jaw, returning his focus back to the brunette in front of him. "would've never done this to you, never." he takes one last look to you before he's lunging at john b, who doesn't hesitate to return the favor back.

a gasp escapes your lips as jj lunges at john b, their bodies colliding with a loud thud. you're in shock, your mind racing as you watch them grapple with each other. their fists fly, and a mix of grunts and curses fill the air as they exchange blows. you're torn, a part of you wanting to intervene, but the other part paralyzed with fear. you take a step forward, your heart pounding in your chest. "stop it! jj stop! our baby is here!" you manage to say, your voice trembling with desperation.

but neither of them pay you any mind, too consumed in their own anger and frustration to listen to reason. they continue their brawl, fists flying and bodies crashing into furniture and walls. the sound of their fighting fills the air and you can't help but feel helpless a wave of helplessness washes over you as the boys get more violent by the second, with no signs of stopping.

the abrupt cry from your babygirl jolts the boys out of their anger and they both freeze, the sound of the baby's wails piercing through the air. they're both panting, sweat and blood staining their faces and clothes. they look at each other for a moment, the tension between them still thick, before turning their attention to the playpin where the baby's crying. the sound of your baby's cry is like a bucket of ice water being thrown on them, jj and john b freeze, their chests heaving as they slowly back away from each other, their fists raw and bloodied. "jesus christ." john b mutters, his eyes darting over to the cry of your baby girl.

you walk over to the play pin, your heart heavy with a mix of concern for both the boys and your little girl. you scoop your baby up into your arms, cradling her against your chest, whispering soothing words of comfort and trying to calm her down. "shh it's okay baby i'm here. mama's here. everything's going to be okay..." her soft little cries piercing through the room. she's probably been woken up from the loud noises of the fight, and she's scared and confused. you notice the moment that both boys stop their brawl, their attention shifting to the baby's wailing. she's still too young to understand what's going on, and you can tell she's scared. your heart breaks a bit at the sight of her crying, and the guilt and shame creeps up on you for allowing this to happen in front of her.

john b stands there, panting heavily as he watches you soothe the baby, guilt and remorse etched across his features. he can't help but feel responsible for this whole mess, and he knows that he should have stopped the fight sooner. he looks down at his bruised and bloodied knuckles, still clenched from the fight. "goddammit." he mutters, his voice hoarse. meanwhile jj just stands there, his eyes fixed on the baby, and then you. his heart is pounding in his chest, his mind racing. seeing his child being so scared and crying because of their stupidity, he's never felt more like garbage.

you look over at john b, your eyes pleading. "can you - can you just go? for a while." you say softly. "I need to talk with him." you point to jj with your free hand, still rocking your baby girl softly.

john b doesn't hesitate, he nods and slowly heads to the door, his shoulders slumping with guilt. he knows he should have stopped this from happening, but instead, he had only made things worse. "yeah, yeah I'll go." he mutters, his voice soft and filled with regret., leaving just you and jj in the now tense and quiet apartment.

you focus on the baby once john b goes, trying to soothe her with soft words and gentle rocking. it takes a few minutes but she eventually calms down, her cries subsiding into small hiccups. you sigh in relief, cradling her against your chest. the silence in the room is palpable now that you're left alone with jj, both of you knowing that the conversation you're about to have is long overdo.

after a while, your baby begins to make small coos and whimpers in your arms, reaching small, soft hands outward. her eyes are searching for something or someone. she squirms and fusses as if she wants you to set her down. as you start to realize what your baby wants, your breath catches in your throat. you look up at jj, who's just been watching from a distance until now, his face a mixture of hurt, confusion, and something that almost looks like longing. you shift towards the blonde, holding out his daughter toward him.

jj looks at you, his eyes wide with surprise. he's staring at you both with a mix of emotions. seeing the baby, his baby, squirming and fussing, it triggers something within him - something that he can't quite put into words. he's torn between anger, hurt, and this overwhelming sense of longing to hold her - to hold his child.his heart pounding in his chest. he takes a step forward hesitantly, as if afraid to touch her. but he can't resist the urge, and slowly, he reaches out a hand to take her from you. his fingers brush against her small, soft body, and he gasps softly as he holds her in his arms for the first time in a long time. "woah." he whispers, looking down at the baby with awe and wonder. "she's so small."

the baby's eyes focus on the man holding her, her tiny lips parting in a soundless 'oh'. she reaches her small hand out, gently touching his face, as if trying to understand who this giant is. she makes a small noise, not quite a cry but not quite a coo either, tilting her head to the side. the man seems to realize she's studying him, and he lets out a soft chuckle. "hi sweet girl, it's your daddy." he murmurs, his voice gruff but gentle. "sorry ya gotta see my face all beat up."

you watch the interaction between your baby and jj, a mix of emotions welling up inside you. seeing him with her, holding her in his arms, it's all so surreal. his face, normally so rough and guarded, is softened as he gazes down at her. tears prick at the corners of your eyes as a wave of feelings wash over you. love, regret, hope, and uncertainty all swirled together in a confusing mess. you swallow back a sob, trying to hold it together.

jj can sense the emotions radiating off of you. he looks back up at you, his expression shifting from adoration for his daughter to a more guarded one. he can tell that you're struggling with your own feelings, and a part of him wants to know what's going through your head. but another part of him is afraid to know. his eyes soften, and he gently rubs the baby's back, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on you. "ya mama is a crybaby like 'chu."he jokes gently.

a small, shaky laugh escapes your lips as you wipe away a stray tear that has managed to escape. "yeah," you choke out, your voice strained but trying to keep it light. "something like that." the sight of jj holding the baby in his arms, the way he was gently rubbing her back, it was both heartwarming and painful all at once. you wanted to step closer, to wrap your arms around them both, but you held yourself back. you knew there were still so many things unsaid between the two of you.

jj sees the way your body tenses, and he can tell you're holding yourself back. there's a part of him that wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to hold both you and his child close, but he knows that there's still so much to say, so much to work through before y'all can cross that bridge. the room is silent, except for the baby's soft coos and whimpers. jj gently bounces her back and forth, and she seems to be getting comfortable in his arms. he looks at you and sighs. "when ya gonna start bein' honest with me?"

your heart sinks at his question, you know he deserves the truth, but the idea of facing it all head-on makes your heart race. you look at him, your eyes locked with his, and you take a deep breath, tears threatening to fall again. "i just want you to be her daddy. just be her daddy." you admit, your voice cracking. you look at the baby, still clutched in his arms, and a wave of guilt washes over you.

jj's expression softens as he sees the tears pooling in your eyes. he takes a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he speaks, his voice low and soft. "i am her daddy." he responds, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. "i'm here now, aint' i?" he looks down at the baby, his daughter, his eyes full of love and affection.

just like that night so long ago, your crumbling into him. you lean into him and let him hold you.

jj feels your body sag against him, and he instinctively tightens his grip around you, holding you close to him. he whispers soothing words in your ear, his voice gruff but full of tenderness. "shh, i got you. i'm here." he rubs your back, his touch gentle and reassuring. he can feels the tears wetting his shirt, and he sighs, resting his chin on top of your head.

it's sooner or later that the baby falls asleep in his presence, and later so will you too once he's finished with you.

[whenmemorydies]

The Bear Fanfic Recs

If anyone’s interested in some recs to tide you over before season 4 starts, here are some of my fav fanfics for The Bear; stuff I’ve been back to reread multiple times. Also if you're into music while reading, I've chucked in a song rec for each fic.

I'm not a very quick reader and I know The Bear fandom has some of the most talented fanfic authors around so there are going to be heaps of fantastic stories that are not on this list. This is entirely bc I just haven't been able to read them as yet! I’m always on the hunt for more fic to read so pls share if you have any recommendations!

Fair warning, these are all Sydcarmy and almost all rated E.

The Wild, Wild Berry by Blissymbolics

* Literally altered my brain chemistry when I read it. Juicy codependent angst, sensuously written and a Syd that is so dear to me. Song rec while reading: "Heat Lightning" by Mitski

Fundamentals for the Fun and Mental by @bioloyg

* Beautifully written slow burn with the sexiest of endings. Also one of the truest depictions of all the characters on the show I’ve read yet. Song rec while reading: "Pendulum" by FKA Twigs

Child with a child pretending by @emilybrontay

* Sydney rejoins the workforce as a single mum and Carmy is her boss. Written with so much care. Contains the most affecting rewrite of the events of 1x07 The Review. Song rec while reading: "Coming Back" by James Blake feat. SZA

Soul meets body by @turbulenthandholding

* AU where Syd and Carmy are connected in more ways than one. This one is full of magic, angst, sweetness and sparks! The first fic I’ve read that has literally made me throw my phone cos of the suspense. Song rec while reading: "Hit Me Where the Heart Is" by Mega Simone

Nobody ever got my soul right by seh28

* Tender angst while Syd and Carmy travel for work. Features one of the most eye-opening insights into Syd's restlessness, delivered in the softest of scenes. Song rec while reading: "Trouble" by Ray LaMontagne

All This Nothing (Has Meant More to Me Than So Many Somethings) by @turbulenthandholding

* This fic was a GIFT during the end of 2024. You've Got Mail x The Bear. I was kicking my feet and squee-ing on public transport with this one. Song rec while reading: "Unknown/Nth" by Hozier

Eating for Two by Blissymbolics

* Laugh out loud funny with the sweetest end. A comedy of errors and a food baby named Vindaloo. Song rec while reading: "Home" by Good Neighbours

We were perfect when we started, I've been wondering where we've gone by @freedelusionshere

* If season 4 doesn't give me my urban farm dream for The Bear crew, then this fic did. The warmest, sultriest fix-it for the end of season 3. Song rec while reading: "Work Song" by Hozier.

Like UPS? by @sutherlins

* The most meta story where the Sydcarmy fire gets set off by...fanfic. Equal parts hilarious and sexy. Song rec while reading: "Rush" by Ayra Starr

Don't Wait for the Tide Just to Dip Both Your Feet In by @anxietycroissant

* My fav The Bear sickfic. I don't know how, but this one makes COVID symptoms sexy lmao. Song rec while reading: "People, I've been sad" by Christine and the Queens

Rules For (fake) Dating an Italian by @poorlittlegreenie13

* The Bear x Buffalo 66. Funny, tender, hot and some of the best Syd x Berzatto/Jerimovich family exchanges I've had the pleasure of reading. Song rec while reading: "Two of Us on the Run" by Lucius

Not Friends, Few Benefits by smudged_mascara

* If Syd and Carmy were to become friends with benefits, this is the most realistic depiction of it I can imagine, from its unspoken start to glorious finish. Song rec while reading: "Waiting Game" by BANKS

The Unspeakable Four by @ambeauty

* Delicious chocolate box of an AU fic. Syd and Carmy have a kid and their professional paths diverge. Syd wants to work smarter to provide for her baby. Carmy has to navigate shifting professional and personal roles. Features the sweetest father-son relationship between Carmy and Emmanuel. Song rec while reading: "All Night" by Beyonce

a curious token (would the talkers be talking?) by @sydneys-adamu

* @sydneys-adamu/puzzlepuppy is brilliant at nailing the voices of each character on this show and this is a masterclass in playing with the form of a standard Sydcarmy fic. Song rec while reading: "Last Train Home" by John Mayer

Take Care by @purposechef

* anything by @purposechef/Oysterknife is gold but Take Care gave me the Before Sunrise x The Bear crossover I never thought I needed. Song rec while reading: "Love" by FACESOUL.

Happy reading!

[sightseertrespasser]

"I have a whole other tangent I could elaborate on about Tacnet specifically" Staring at you with big HUGE eyes. I would love to hear the tangent

Alrighty then.

First things first, what is Tacnet?

Sometimes also referred to as a Battle computer, Tacnet is short for Tactical Network and its ostensibly the worlds most demented excel spreadsheet.

In more literal terms, Tacnet is a type of supercomputer.

Supercomputers are incredibly useful pieces of technology. Able to run simulations, predictive algorithms and utilizing real world statistics to essentially speculate the past, present or future. The bottleneck for a regular old supercomputer is that someone has to sit down and manually input all the information necessary for those calculations.

You want to know what kind of gun made that specific bullet hole?

Well first the supercomputer needs the ballistics data off as many kinds of guns as possible, then it needs data on the material that was shot, and it also needs as much information as possible on the bullet hole in question.

You skip out on any of that input and the odds of the supercomputer being correct gets progressively lower.

Problem is, the supercomputer can’t actually think, and therefore can’t estimate how accurate its own calculations are. A computer works in total binary. If it only has the ballistic data for three kinds of guns, it doesn’t matter how much the bullet hole doesn’t match the data sets its been provided, the supercomputer will select whichever of the three matches the hole the most closely.

A computer, no matter how advanced, is incapable of knowing when it doesn’t know something.

But people on the other hand. . .

We turn now to an ambitious young R&D developer many millennia ago.

Once upon a time, this member of Research and Development was on the team responsible for designing new Cold Constructed mechs for Sentinel Prime. And they had a GREAT idea.

“I’ve got it!” They say, unaware of the ominous music rising in the background.

“The great powers of the supercomputer cannot be realized within its current limitations! Its greatest flaws are that it must be stationary, it must be manually fed information and all calculations it does generate must be reviewed by a thinking mech!”

Their coworkers groan. It’s too early in the morning for this shit.

“Therefore!” The mech says, quickly sketching out a box full of smaller boxes that is supposed to be a computer and the miserable approximation of a mech.

“We simply remove the separation, and make the mech itself the data intake for the supercomputer!”

Lightning crashes in the distance, someone tiredly gets the fire extinguisher. Again.

It’s not a hard sales pitch for a totalitarian government to go “Yeah we want super-cops. Here’s the money, make it happen.”

And in a tale as old as capitalism, an untested feature was rolled out with catastrophic consequences.

If you’ve read my tangent on how Crashes work, then you already know about logic cascades.

Tacnet is a supercomputer. A tool. Like any tool, it’s only as good as the person using it, and someone who really doesn’t know what they’re doing is liable to hurts themselves.

So what can Tacnet really do in the hands (or processor) of a master?

Some psychic-type level nonsense. Anyone who’s gotten the hang of their Tacnet, in their own fields of expertise, are able to know exactly what will happen before anyone else.

Let’s compare Smokescreen, Bluestreak and then Prowls Tacnets and how they’re used.

Every Tacnet starts the same, but can be developed and trained to excel at different things.

Smokescreen - Place Your Bets

Smokescreen has trained his to work best for gambling. “Training” can be anything from downloading tables of statistical analysis to personally observing the phenomenon and making notes.

Let’s look at rolling dice. If you rolled a six sided die, any number is equally likely to be rolled. Or 16.67 % odds for each.

So if 3 dice are rolled, then every total value outcome from 3 to 18 must be equal odds as well, right?

Nope! If three six sided dice are rolled, there is a 12.5 % (or 25% if you combine them) chance it’ll be a 10 or 11. And that’s out of sixteen possible outcomes.

So if you know the difference but your opposition doesn’t, then suddenly you have a huge advantage while betting. And this is just the most simplified example I can think of.

If you’ve got the time, statistics are absolutely wild and there’s a mathematical equation for pretty much anything.

All Smokescreen has to do to get good at a game is learn the rules and then plug in the numbers. You know how card counting will get you banned from most casinos? Well Smokescreens worked that out too. Talking to other players (collecting preexisting data points) he can find the average of how much he can win in a night before people get too pissy.

Another thing Smokescreen has going for him (especially over Prowl) is that Smokescreen is much better at reading people. He doesn’t just have statics on the games, but the players.

Mapping out the connections between individuals and taking personal motivations into account, Smokescreen at his peak can not only predict who the winners will be, but he can also predict who will loose on purpose, who will bet the most, who will cheat and who will seek to take their winnings by force.

Experience, experience, experience is the golden ticket.

Also, it’s Smokescreen himself who has to craft the profiles of his victims gambling buddies. Once fleshed out, Tacnet can do wonders mid game, giving Smokescreen room to focus on his social schemes instead.

Luckily, after the burning of Praxus, most people don’t really know what a Tacnet is truly capable of. So Smokescreen looses just often enough to keep folks from realizing that he always knows how every game will play out before they even start.

Bluestreak - Shoot Your Shot

Going in the opposite direction of utility, Bluestreaks Tacnet is all about kinetic calculations.

This fucker is doing the type of math that’s more letters than numbers. Constantly.

Air resistance, velocity, acceleration, gravity, weight, density, temperature, vector, displacement and time.

There’s equations that call for each and every one of those factors, usually in combination.

Your average sniper, even a good one, is usually considering wind speeds, the pull of gravity and the distance from the target when lining up a shot. Bluestreak is taking in all that and then working out the influences of about 15 more factors on top of that. Even before he’s picking where exactly on the target he’s going to hit. Since remember, if he’s got data on not just his own weapons but his enemies defenses, then it really becomes as simple as “would you like them disabled or dead?”

Aim is no longer a question of ability, but an equation to be solved.

Still, physical capabilities does play a part since a steady hand goes a long way towards realizing those calculations.

Tacnet may crunch the numbers, but Bluestreak is the one who has to find all the details relevant to the shot and pick which ones to feed to the machine.

Additionally, Bluestreaks Tacnet in particular has the experimental feature of massively increasing the amount of sensory data he can take in per second, effectively causing him to perceive things in slow motion. This is less something Tacnet is doing, and more a case of Bluestreaks own processor utilizing the bandwidth normally taken up by Tacnet.

Tacnet itself takes a substantial amount of power to run. Normally, it causes problems by siphoning too much power from other systems to do its job (see logic cascade crashes). But Bluestreak has the funny little quirk of somehow doing that in reverse. So when his sense of time dilation becomes maxed out, Tacnet isn’t running the formulas to help him shoot anymore, it’s just Bluestreaks own skills at that point.

Outside of that rare circumstance, Bluestreak is effectively playing with aimbot in real life.

Prowl - Know Your Fate

So we’ve established that Tacnet is powered by mathematical formulas and data collection.

What would happen if someone just, kept going? Kept feeding it? Building up more and more infrastructure for Tacnet to grow around until it has a point of reference for almost anything?

You get an oracle.

Prowl puts the Tactical back into Tacnet. He’s essentially the Jack of all Trades and Master of several of those subjects actually.

Sure, Smokescreen has him beat for behavioral analysis, and Bluestreak is leagues beyond what Prowl can calculate for trajectories. But no one has doubled down on what Tacnet can really do like Prowl has.

You know that (not actually true) statistic about how humans only use 25% of their brains? That’s your average Tacnet user.

Prowl just happens to be insane.

He is constantly taking in new data. He is constantly taking notes, making observations, stripping it down to the raw numbers involved and packing it away into monumental resource centers for Tacnet to refer to.

You ever see someone who’s really good with excel sheets and then see them do some shit you didn’t know excel sheets could even do?

It’s kinda like that.

If you’ve ever read the classic Sherlock Holmes stories, a lot of what makes Sherlock so effective is having such a detailed knowledge of the world around him.

Let’s go back to the bullet hole analysis.

Prowl could look at the bullet hole and tell you after two minutes: “It was this specific Cargo vessel at this time with an illegal weapon.”

From the outside, this looks like a baseless guess. But to Prowl it looks like this:

a) The gun must be a new imported weapon as nothing he currently has on file matches the marking its made in that kind of material.

b) The shooter not only missed their shot, but was shooting downward at an excessive angle. Indicating this was a very large mech firing downward at a much smaller target, likely a mini bot.

c) The shooter can be exactly tracked by looking at the local registry for recent out bound flights, specifically ones with no cargo.

Why? Because the shooter is most likely a transport shuttle. Easy access to imported goods, very large but not a war frame (hence the missed shot) and having failed to kill their victim, would flee town immediately without waiting to take on cargo.

Of those two minutes it took, he spent 1:30 waiting for the flight records to load so he could look up the name of the shuttle.

Scale those skills up to a war room, and Prowl not only knows why an enemy troop is retreating, but where they’re retreating to, what losses they must have taken and whether or not it’ll be worth it to finish the job.

Prowl isn’t smart because he has a Tacnet. Tacnet is OP because Prowl is that smart.

When I write his perspective, Prowl often has an accuracy percentage attached to his calculations. Tacnet isn’t the thing making those estimates. Prowl is the one judging how accurate Tacnets suggestions are.

Dudes just a freak.

—————————

In summary, Tacnet is like if you had every kind of calculator in your pocket and the only limit was how many equations you’ve added on and the amount of information you can feed it.

That last bit is the biggest challenge for Tacnet, as conflicting or flawed data can cause. . . Issues. Aka Logic Cascades. Aka “Why can’t I make it make sense.” Disease.

Let’s just say there’s a reason not many people know what Tacnet is capable of, as a lot of early Praxian Enforcers could be taken out by confusing emotions, plot holes, and particularly well executed magic tricks.

Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence when your new shiny police force can be hospitalized by watching Back to the Future 2.

Being one of the first Cold Constructs built with a Tacnet, Smokescreen figured out how to mostly get around that glitch early on and taught Prowl and Bluestreak how to do the same. In this particular setting, Tacnet is poorly understood and best kept mostly secret for those reasons.

(Bizarrely, between Tacnet and the radar uses of doorwings, Prowl and his brothers would actually be really good at predicting the weather.)

———————————————————————

Bonus bit: Good fucking lord it would absolutely terrifying if you could somehow combine Smokescreen, Prowl and Bluestreaks skills into like a Tacnet hivemind or something.

Though with wing speak, to an outsider that’s probably what it already looks like.

———

The three brothers look at the same bullet hole, silently communicating in a way the local non-Praxian officer couldn’t pick up on.

“Oh yeah, looks like Rotor didn’t like Brick cutting into his half of the dirty money. Slippery little guy but you can find both their hideouts here and here.” Smokescreen, the eldest, pulls up a map for reference.

Prowl is already out the door, Bluestreak is lining up a shot through the window.

“What is he. . ?” The other officer looks from Bluestreak. Then to Prowl, trailing off, “Where is the other one. . ?”

“Oh Prowls off to arrest the shooter.”

“But he’s a grounder, can’t Rotor fly?”

A shot rings out.

“Not anymore!”

[churipu]

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[nerdykorgi]

good evenin wittefandom, still alive i hope lol?

anyways here some food for you guys. (Refs of Caleb and Evelyn, i still have to fix Philips o<-<)

Completely free to use but was basically based on as accurate as i could... basically assume. I took some creative liberties as well ut you know, like how I gave Eve heterochromia because there is actually a good chance her eyes arnt golden like eda's (take lillith's or Gwendolyn's for say) We dont even know if her hair is actually red or not it could be brown but that disturbs me for some reason lol ive just imagined her with red hair for sooo long

But heres some headcanon ones for fun!!

Creature Feature Core. Had fun just messing around with ideas. I redesigned dove logo on the rebus box and made into like a family crest.

Other things to note:

I hc that she is an avid "beastkeeper" esque witch and wanted to study the mysterious fauna of the fabled human realm, so she created her own portal to it.

I dont know who came up with this idea but I liked the idea of her being half demon or demon-like.

I think shes really good at illusion magic, in S2E1 Masha talks of how she gave Caleb "visions" of a starge world, so perhaps she teased him with illusions of the isles before actually taking him there. I also think Illusions combined with beastkeeping could equal shapeshifting?? idk maybe im reaching but I LOVE shapeshifter characters so maybe im biased...

The feathers in her skirt are cardinal, bluejay, and goldfinch hehe... and the one in her hair is a barn owl feather and its supposed to represent Caleb <3

Lastly I forgot to change this but I like how each witch almost has a certain color for their magic, even if its not for a specific type. I like to think hers would be a magenta-red color, like the fire magic she was using in one of the Hollow Mind portraits.

EVERYDAY THIS BITCH GOES FURTHER AND FURTHER DOWN THE HEADCANNON TO OC PIPELINE!!

Mr. Haunting The Narrative himself :D

Stupid idiot, I love him lol. I also played alot with the CSP brushes lol.

Anyways, the jewlery he has, like the cross and the rings were both from his parents that he kept and no i was not aware that puritans actually DO NOT like using the cross so lets just say he kept it hidden.

He is missing his left ring finger because he had a lot of oopsies while carving in the beginning, hes gotten really good at it though.

He is tired as hell but keeps on trucking on lol

I also rolled down his sleeves because what if he had those cool ruffle sleeves. (yes i know they were poor, shush its cool :,) )

Lastly, the feather in his hair is red-tailed hawk feather and it reminds him of his witch wife.

STY FOR YAPPING HERES A FLAPJACK AS AN APOLOGY

Yapping on last time- I wanted to give him a more creative design. I mean some cardinals ARE yellow after all... I like how Flap's crest is stuck perked throughout the show so techinically he's just chronically pissed off because correct me if im wrong they mostly have their crest up to either show off to mates or be agrresive little shits. Anyways, he is their son, you cant tell me otherwise.

[hotvintagepoll]

hello I love you happy anniversary!!! and I would love some hot people action for Christmas if you’re so inclined 👀

Cool! Let's do a silly mini tournament just for Christmas.

WHO IS THE HOTTEST VINTAGE MOVIE COUPLE?

This contest is focused on ONSCREEN HOT COUPLES who, while maybe not romantically involved in real life, appeared frequently together as a romantic team onscreen.

TO BE COUNTED IN THE BRACKET, your submission must:

be a pair of hotties working in movies before 1970

both hotties must be movie stars, in the sense of appearing in (a) starring roles in (b) major feature films portraying a (c) romantic couple while (d) being very hot and charismatic. I'm looking for hotties on equal footing, not Queen Iconic Majoress and her lover Blorbo "never heard of him" Peckins, but I'll use my own judgement if it's unclear.

(3) the couple must appear ONSCREEN TOGETHER as a ROMANTIC COUPLE in AT LEAST TWO MOVIES. i would love to accept one-off pairings but then the tournament would be too big.

Again: your HOT AND VINTAGE COUPLE must be GLAMOROUS HOTTIES who were showcased ONSCREEN MORE THAN ONCE from a time in the movie industry anytime before 1970. This tournament is open to INTERNATIONAL HOTTIES, as long as they fall before the 1970 cutoff!

Also, because the classic Hollywood studio system did not allow for obvious same sex romantic couples, I'm willing to be flexible on defining a romantic couple if I think it would give Louis B. Mayer a heart attack. If you can convince me you shipped them and they could be viewed as an iconic onscreen couple, I'll let them in.

To submit, please include the names of your hotties, two or more movie titles starring them, and a short description of why they are the hottest. You can also include a link to a picture of them together if you don't want to rely on me to find a good one, and video footage proving their chemistry is always approved of.

I am throwing together this tournament extremely quickly so please send your hot couple to my asks asap. I will fill in the gaps where I can and will self-submit couples if I have to, but please don't rely on me—submit your favorite hotties so I don't forget anyone.

I'll look at submissions LATER TONIGHT and start the tournament TOMORROW in time for CHRISTMAS EVE.

[here is my ask box for submitting hot vintage couples]

[serraphinm]

⋆.˚@Messy#⋆.˚

Summary: Ellie has been off for weeks now and you have no idea why. So when you've finally had enough you snap, causing a fight.

Happy New Year! This is my gift to all of you!

@vxsellie - For you girl <3

Masterlist

Ellie was in a mood... She had been for three weeks now. Why she was in such a mood I had no idea but she refused to tell me, let alone calm down. The worst part was she was taking her anger out on me. Since we lived together it was impossible to truly get any space unless one of us left. We had been living together for a few months now and dating for two years. Her duality is what made me fall in love with her in the first place. But now her underhanded insults were starting to sting.

I scan the room once more, avoiding her eyes. The stale air in the room mixed with the smell of weed made it suffocating. My eyes water a little from a fresh puff of smoke blowing into them. Our home was practically a hot box with how much she had been smoking. The couch felt rough beneath my calloused fingers. I had been working in the gardens for a few weeks now and my hands had gotten a handful of cuts and calluses. Ellie wouldn’t let me touch her anymore and I blamed my hands.

“Are you even listening or what?” Her voice reaches my mind and my eyes finally snap to hers.

“I’m listening, Ellie,” I say, hoping she doesn’t snap. 

“Fucking finally..” She mutters. Another puff of smoke that I wave out my face. Despite all the weed she still seemed on edge, which was a feat in itself. “I have patrol today.. Need you to get a job gardening,” Ellie sits up slowly, a little dizzy.

“I was actually thinking of going on patrol with you today.. You know.. Switch it up?” I say standing from the couch to grab her some water. 

“Did you not hear what I said?” Her green eyes narrowing,“I don’t want you outside the walls, just go garden like you always do,” Her voice is harsh but I try to focus on the fact she wants me safe inside the walls.

“I understand that Els but-”

“Why can’t you just fucking listen?! I’m trying to keep you safe!” She snaps. This rage was uncalled for.

“I don’t need you to make decisions for me Ellie.. I’m fully capable of being safe.” I argue back, my fist clenched around the glass of water. My eyes met hers once more as she sat on the couch. All I see in her eyes is anger, no fear.

“Cordyceps is no joke! You’re not immune like I am!!” She argues, standing to meet me

on an equal level. 

That sent me back to when Ellie had told me of her immunity. We had been walking outside the wall on a warm summer night. She was awkward as hell grabbing my hand with her own sweaty ones. Her eyes sparkled as she told me about her day. She and Dina had been on patrol when they ran into a bear—scared the shit out of them, causing them to finish patrol early and ride all the way back to Jackson. They laugh about it now. She got so serious though when she told me Dina almost got bit. I watched fear etch her features before she turned to me.

“Babe, I need you to know something..” She whispered, my brows furrowed. It seemed this was serious so I stopped smiling and faced her.

“When I was younger I had a friend… sorta… her name was Riley and, well we were really close. Long story short.. We both got bit…” That last part left her mouth slowly. I looked at her confused. 

“But.. there’s no way you should be alive right now if you were. Are you pulling my leg?” I asked as I tilted my head in her direction. Confusion all over my face. Ellie huffed and scratched her neck before holding out her tattooed arm and running her fingers over the chemically burned section.

“That day I found out I was immune…” She said softly, her eyes not meeting mine anymore.

She had to be shitting me.

“Immune..? Like.. immune immune?” I asked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her arm closer to my face.

“Yea..” She whispered.

“Really Ellie? That’s some bullshit and you know it,” I said before dropping her arm, “Tell the truth.”

“Wha- hey! That is the truth! Look, the chemical burn was me covering the bite mark!” She said as she lifted her arm back up again and practically shoved it in my face.

“Alright! Alright! So let’s say this is true.. Why tell me?” I asked as I pushed her arm out of my face.

“Cause… cause I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you…” Her voice is so quiet, like a whisper. She stared at the floor beside me while I looked at her shocked.

“You… you love me…?” I whispered as I stepped closer to her. Ever so slowly her eyes met mine. I could tell she was nervous so I sent her a smile.

“Something like that..” Ellie muttered. My smile grew and I moved forward once more as I wrapped her in a hug. She hugged back almost immediately, but not before she wiped her palms on her jeans.

“I love you too Ellie..” I whispered to her and the stars. My eyes trailed to the moon and I wished then and there that this moment would never end…

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. You’re not even listening again!” Ellie’s harsh voice snaps me out of my daydream. She must’ve been going on a rant again. I often zoned out when she did that. “What did I just say?? Huh?” 

“I’m sorry, Ellie, I don’t listen to you when you get like this.” 

Ellie rolls her eyes, “You’re so clever so how can you be so dumb?”

That hurts a little so I send her a glare, “You have no right to talk to me like that!” My hand clenches around the glass of water again.

“I can talk to you however I want!” She argues back, her arms waving around in frustration.

“No! You can’t! I am your equal and partner! Not someone you can just talk down to cause you’re pissy about something! I have been nothing but kind and patient with you and you’ve just been rude!!” I snap. My anger gets the better of me and I squeeze the glass so hard it shatters. Pain reaches my senses as I realize I’ve been cut. Blood seeps from my palm and I grimace. Without looking at Ellie I rush to the door, wrench it open, and slam it behind me. The cool fall air hits my face and I shiver. 

I decide to patch it up before dragging my feet to the gardens. Getting work done with this was going to be a pain, but it was better than staying with Ellie right now. One of the sweet women I work with gives my hand a concerned glance. She offers to help but I decline as I slide a glove over the hand. Work takes a few hours and by the time I’m done, it's as dark as the stains of dirt on my clothes. Trudging back home I decide to take my time and marvel at the lights in Jackson. The peaceful walk back shatters when I open the door to see Ellie sitting on the couch still- -clad in her patrol gear. When I walked in her head snapped to me. Ellie stands quickly and walks over to me.

“Where the hell have you been?! I’ve been worried sick!” She looks me over before noticing all the dirt spots. “Why are you filthy? Did you fall or something?” All my patience vanishes.

Deciding I’d rather not fight again today I start walking to the kitchen to just put some space between us when she grabs my wrist.

“Ellie let go,” I say, not in the mood.

“No.. you left without even saying anything and left a mess for me to clean. You’re so messy.” 

That does it.

“Really Ellie?! You wanna sit here and nitpick me?? I get what you’re saying, but really??”

Ellie lets go of my wrist, a little shocked at my outburst. But I wasn’t done.

“I’m too messy and then I’m too fucking clean! I’m too perfect till I open my big mouth. I’m too clever till I’m too fucking dumb!” It all starts pouring out as I step closer and closer to her. She begins backing up as tears well in my eyes.

“You told me to go to the gardens then wonder where I’ve fucking been!!” I poke her chest as I stare into her eyes. She seems to start to understand so I keep going.

“You can’t even talk! You smoke weed to help you sleep. Then get stoned at four o’clock! You come home from patrol to me and don’t even say hello before you’re yelling at me. All 'cause I made a mess!”

Her face falls as she stares at me in realization.

“I want to be me! Is that not allowed?! I wanted to go on patrol! But no! Instead I had to work all day in the gardens with a gash on my hand!” 

Ellie stares down at the floor. It seems I finally woke her up from whatever cloudy haze she was in.

“Thousand different people I could be for you Els.. and you hate the fucking lot…”

That last line seems to finish her off and she starts to tear up. My breath is fast and my hands shake. Rage truly overtook me. I wasn’t the most patient person in the world. But usually, I was a bit more composed. Seems Ellie really hurt me…

“I…” She whispers. Tears drip down to her chin before falling onto the cold floors. My breathing slows a little as she fiddles with her fingers.

“I just.. Joel did some really fucked up shit… and I lost it…took it out on you…” She takes a deep breath and wipes her face with one hand.

“What the hell happened?? And why didn’t you tell me that?” I ask gently. Ellie takes another deep breath. She begins to explain that she could’ve been the cure for cordyceps.. If Joel hadn’t taken her from the fireflies and killed them all. I stare at her in shock.

“I just got so furious… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him for that…” My heart hurts and I take a hesitant step towards her. 

“Ellie..” I start. She brings me into a hug and cries into my shoulder. Tears well up in my own eyes. Now I felt bad for snapping. One of my hands rests on the back of her neck while the other wraps around her. I could tell she needed this hug. We both did. 

Slowly I move us over to the bed and take off our dirty clothes before laying back in bed with her. She holds me like a lifeline as she calms down, her skin cold on mine. Moving the covers overtop of us I secure it tightly around her as she snuggles into my chest. My fingers rung through her short auburn hair. I take her hair tie out and pull it onto my wrist.

“Look.. all those things I said… I never really meant them.. I just.. I wanted someone to hurt with me... So I’d feel less alone..” She was surprisingly self-aware.

“Dork,” I mutter. She looks up at me with a glare.

“I open up my thoughts and feelings to you, and you call me a dork?? Really?” I watch as her composure cracks, a smile spreads across her face.

“Yup. Dork.” 

“Rude..”

“You love me.”

“Yea… I do…”

Ellie spends the next few hours talking everything out. We discuss it all before deciding to put steps in place to prevent this from happening again. It takes us a while but we work it out. I glance at the clock to see it’s almost 2 am. With a yawn, I relax further into the pillows.

“Ellie.. I know it’s going to be hard… but could you try and forgive Joel..? If not for him or yourself.. Maybe for me..?” I say gently.

She says nothing for a moment before take a deep breath… and ever so slowly nodding her head.

“Yea.. for you.. anything..”

.

.

.

[loaksky]

— 𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒅 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏 & 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆 | 𝒂. 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏

emt!abby x fem!reader, smut (mdni or i scream) / fluff / established relationship, wc: 3k

synopsis: you didn’t think you’d get away with baiting abby before dinner, did you?

content warnings: language, strap-on sex (reader!receiving), fingering (reader!receiving), oral (reader!receiving), abby has a filthy mouth & reader’s a tease, brief mentions of a breeding kink brrrr, basically pwp but like also maybe a lil ? idk, i’m still new to tagging 18 + content AH.

author’s notes: i’m back!! and with smutty continuation of this oneshot! the abby brainrot is very real, i fear, so i couldn’t help but expand. there’s a lil surprise at the end hehehe. also! pls feel free to chat with me thru my ask box! <3

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

Abby’s patience is admittedly wearing thin.

She’d managed to keep it together during the car ride to the restaurant, kept her cool while ordering through lingering touches and hooded gazes. Hell, she’d somehow breathed through a coy hand resting against her thigh, sneaky pinky nestling in the seam of her taut trousers while Nora and mutual friends chatted about their recent endeavors.

“You’re cutting it close,” Abby whispers a warning to you after you’d brushed something from the plump of her bottom lip and dragged.

You popped the pad of your thumb past your glossed lips and Abby had to swallow hard before she choked on her bite.

The smile you give her is sly, makes her rub her thighs together as your shoulders roll back and your chest pushes forward. She’d been too preoccupied with ordering, with downing water after water because, christ, it was hot in here, to notice that maybe she was the only one burning up.

Gooseflesh ripples over your arms and your nipples are pebbled against the satin of your dress. She could nearly drool, thinking about all the things she’d love to do to you in and out of that flimsy little gown.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Your lips nearly brush the shell as Abby spears a cut of dessert and bites hard to maintain her facade. She hums.

“M’not wearing anything underneath,” you divulge, eyes twinkling when Abby leans back in her seat and watches you with her jaw set.

“And what would you like me to do with that information, angel?” Abby bites, playing into your game easily.

“Whatever you wanna,” you reply softly, gaze far too dreamy for Abby’s sanity. “I’ll be good.”

And then you have the audacity to smile at her like you haven’t lit a fire in the pit of her belly. Like you aren’t tempting her to clear every available surface and bend you over the table. She’d been doing so well, had made it through every course. But now, as everyone socializes and finishes Nora’s birthday cake, she feels her resolve crumbling.

“You guys are so cute,” one of Abby’s friends coos, absolutely oblivious to the little cat and mouse game you’ve started before the two of you even walked into the restaurant.

Abby laughs humorlessly behind a sip of her drink while you preen under the attention.

And she should’ve known better than to relax once you’d leaned back in your seat, wine glass wrapped in your slender fingers. The both of you are equally floored, but for vastly different reasons, when your hand slinks under the table top to grab right under the buckle of Abby’s belt.

Abby hadn’t expected you to be so blatant and you definitely hadn’t felt that when you straddled her earlier in the evening before the two of you left for dinner.

The ball’s in her court, she realizes, when she clocks the way you shift in your seat, arousal pooling between your thighs, no doubt. Your eyes are glazing over and your lips part.

“Everything alright, love?” Abby asks, feigning concern as her head tilts to the side.

She watches the way you rub your legs together involuntarily and she has to suppress the wicked grin that threatens to split her golden features.

You don’t answer and some of Abby’s friends who aren’t engrossed in conversation are watching from across the table in curiosity.

“Cat got your tongue?” she whispers into your small little bubble, teeming with sexual tension and ready to burst.

She sees the way your throat bobs, thinks to herself that she owes it to herself to mark you up after the shit you’d been pulling all night.

“My stomach hurts,” you say softly, and she knows exactly what you mean.

Knows that the ache isn’t from a bad appetizer or wine that just won’t seem to settle. No, you’re needy now. Worked yourself up so much trying to tease your girlfriend that your skin is dewy under the lowlight.

She glances at Nora who sits at the head of the table. Something gleams in her gaze and Abby knows that she knows. Hasn’t been able to shut up about you since the two of you made it official last fall.

“Might be time to get this one home,” Abby covers, merciful in front of friends because you’re not the only one desperate. “It’s a little past her bedtime.”

And typically, you’d be petulant, annoyed because even if you’re Abby’s girl, you’re not a child. But god, you can practically feel her inside despite clenching around nothing.

“Aww,” one friend frowns, you think her name is Mel. “It was nice getting everyone out for Nor’s birthday.”

Abby smiles, something genuine that only makes your toes curl because your girl is absolutely devastating, especially in a black button up that shows a dangerous amount of expanse and fitted black slacks that hug the most delicious part of her thighs.

“Definitely,” Abby agrees easily. “We have to grab lunch before you head back home, Nora.”

Nora winks and your cheeks warm because if there’s one person you can’t get anything by, it’s Abby’s closest friend.

“Just shoot me a text.”

And you know that she’s just in her element, being surrounded by her friends and people she’s grown up with, but as she makes her rounds and says her goodbyes, you can’t help the desire that bubbles.

What started as a slow simmer, something you could tamp down during the journey here and throughout dinner, was now a raging boil that warmed your veins from the inside out.

It’s why the two of you barely make it to the car before Abby’s hand is up your dress and her fingers are circling the heat of your slick slit.

“You’re already so fuckin’ wet,” she whispers breathlessly, leaning over the center console to slot her lips with yours.

“Been wet,” you admit against her mouth, throwing your head back against the headrest when the tips of her fingers push past your entrance.

She breathes a laugh when you let out a cracked moan.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“Yeah?” she taunts. “All it takes is a couple of fingers in your pussy to get you to behave?”

You’re watching her through hooded eyes, heels coming up to rest on the edge of the seat. And it’s such a dirty fucking sight, seeing the soft satin of your dress pooling around your hips as you spread your legs.

“More,” you beg, fingers wrapping around her wrist to hold her still. “Fuck, Abs, I need more.”

Abby’s brain nearly short circuits when you start rolling your hips, the heel of her palm bumping your sticky and swollen clit.

“Yeah, want more, angel?” she taunts. “Could’ve had this taken care of earlier if you just let me fuck you before we left. Now what, you’re all needy and wet.”

“S–ah, fuck!” you hiss when she adds a third finger and curls hard. “Please, please.”

“Yeah, you wanna cum, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, hips bucking desperately. Your cunt glistens under the fluorescents of the parking garage and Abby’s salivating as she watches you use her to get off.

“Want it, Bibi,” you whisper brokenly, that stupid fucking nickname rolling from your lips. “Wanna cum, please.”

She laughs breathlessly, boxers soaking through as she takes in the sight of you winding tight. She knows you’re gonna unravel soon, can feel it in the way the soft walls of your pussy flutters around her digits.

Then, like you’ve committed the most cardinal sin, she’s punishing you, withdrawing from your heat to slip her fingers past her lips to savor your arousal.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” she sighs, leaning back in her seat to slot the key into the ignition.

“Abby, please,” you cry out, clenching around the loss of her knuckles stretching you out.

“Gonna have to be patient and wait, pretty girl.”

Despite the AC on full blast, your balmy skin is sticky with sweat. Abby’s got you right where she wants you, naked and between her spread knees at the foot of her bed. The silk of the oversized scarf you’d used as a cover up earlier in the night binds your wrists together at the small of your back and Abby thinks you look so fucking lovely like this.

“You’re so pretty like this,” she murmurs, thumb reaching out to brush the plush of your bottom lip. The pad slips into your mouth and her eyes widen a fraction when you look up her through your lashes. “You’ve been such a fuckin’ brat all night, y’know that?”

The dainty gold chain around your neck glints as your chest heaves, ‘A’ pendant catching a sliver of the moonlight as Abby presses her thumb down your throat.

“M’sorry,” you whimper around her digit. “I’ll—”

You swallow when your eye catches the silicone of Abby’s strap. It’s a new addition, a pretty purple that she’d picked out with you in mind. It’s got an obscene amount of ridges and fuck it’s—

“So big,” you choke.

A lazy smile spreads across Abby’s face.

“It is, isn’t it?” she entertains you, fist closing around the shaft. “Saw it and thought of you. Thought of all the ways I’d stretch your tiny little cunt and fuck you stupid.”

You’re drooling now, tears pooling the corner of your eyes and smudging your eye makeup.

“Want it bad, Abby, please.” Your hips roll over nothing and Abby’s licking her lips when she notices the little pool that glistens against the hardwood. “I’ll do anything, please, just— fuck, let me ride you, anything… I—”

“Think you deserve it?” she hums. “I was being generous earlier. Wanted to make you feel good, but you wanted to be a fucking tease. And for what? For you to soak through your dress and make a fucking mess on my floor.”

The moan you let out makes Abby’s breath hitch, almost makes her drop the act.

One more, she thinks to herself.

She pinches your cheeks between her fingers, forces you to come face to face with the lines of her cock.

“Spit,” she hisses.

And her eyes roll to the back of her head when you do, the string of saliva that connects your lips to her strap making her hips buck involuntarily.

In one movement, she’s yanking you to your feet and tossing you against the mattress. With your hands still bound, your cheek presses against the duvet, back arching and knees spreading to give her the perfect view of your ass and your pretty little slit.

“You get to have your fun after you cum around my cock,” Abby husks, large palms settling on the swell of your ass as the tip of her strap prods your entrance.

“Nnngh, Abby, fuck, pleasepleaseplease,” you keen. “All of it, please.”

And hearing you beg, hearing you so eager to be filled has Abby nearly feral. Has her pressing her length past the folds of your needy pussy and throwing her head back when you moan around the resistance.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re taking it so well,” she says shakily, sinking hilt deep.

“Please,” you sigh breathlessly. “Fuck me, Abby. I want you to use me and—”

Abby’s blowing out a forceful breath, can never get used to your filthy mouth. Her hips start rolling, finding a pace that has you moaning so loud she’s certain her neighbors can hear you doors down.

It doesn’t take much, just one of her hands snaking to your clit through her strokes to get you locking up and an incoherent mess.

When she pulls out, you collapse against the sheets, and she melts. Can’t be mean to her pretty girl for too long. She’s unfastening the silk around your wrists, hands smoothing over the swell of your hips to guide you onto your back.

You’re looking up at her with that fucked out look on your face.

“You can do another one, can’t you, angel?” she coos, doing an absolute one-eighty as she kneels between your thighs and licks a fat stripe up your slit to suck your clit past her lips. “You’re not gonna tap out on me after working me up all night, are you?”

And when you nod eagerly despite your body feeling so heavy, Abby’s heart swells. She’s kissing on your inner thighs, watching as your hole flutters deliciously.

“You said you’d be good,” she whispers, laving languidly at your your cunt. “So be a good girl and take it, hmm?”

“Anything, Abs, I’ll be good.”

She’s smiling a genuine smile, knows you’re a brat for the attention. And she can’t help herself, wants to give you anything and everything.

Her lips travel from your clit, presses gentle kisses up the soft flesh of your tummy, past your navel and between the valley of your breasts. She takes one nipple in her mouth and sucks hard as she tweaks the other one between the calloused pads of her fingers.

“You’re my good girl?” she whispers against your skin.

Your freed fingers tangle in her hair when she pops free from your nipple and bites hard on the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. She’s been desperate to add fresh purple blooms to the yellowing ones, doesn’t want anyone to get the wrong ideas.

“Always,” you swallow, arching into her touch.

One of her hands slides up the sheets and tangles with yours, and you’d think the gesture is sweet as she continues her ministrations up your throat, but she’s sliding the blunt head of her strap between the puffy lips of your cunt. She catches the arousal that pools there before sinking in slowly.

Doesn’t matter how many times she fucks you, how many different ways she folds you and has her way, the fit is always snug like a glove and it itches a part of her brain desperate to be sated.

“Don’t know how lucky you are,” she hums in your ear as her hips roll slowly, making sure you feel every last inch of her cock slipping through your needy little pussy.

You’re panting, sweaty chest colliding with hers as she braces part of her weight on the arm tangled with yours and settles the rest against your spent body.

And having Abby like this, pressed to you and taking care of you, you agree. You’re so lucky. But then she mutters something new that has your toes curling.

“So lucky I can’t knock you up,” she says softly, biting on an especially deep stroke. “Because if I could, angel? I’d be breeding you like clockwork.”

Your chin juts upwards, exposing more of your neck to Abby as she picks up the pace. The broken sob that leaves you has a shiteating grin lazily spreading.

“You like the idea of that, huh?” she whispers. “I bet you’d be so fucking pretty all swollen. All mine.”

One hand slides between your bodies and presses down hard over the bulge of Abby’s strap. You’re clawing at her bicep as she leans up to get a good look at you.

“C’mon, pretty girl, one more,” she almost begs. “Gimme one more.”

And it’s a mixture of her words, the sweet drag of her cock along the warmth of your gummy walls, and the pinched expression on her face that sends you soaring over the edge. Her name leaves your lips like a prayer, body wound so fucking tight as your second orgasm rips through you mercilessly.

Abby’s smiling gently at you as you come down, body falling slack against the sheets as your chest heaves lungfuls of air. She’s still fully sheathed, smoothing your hair from your face as she peppers kisses along your cheeks and over your eyelids.

“You’re actually unbelievable,” she murmurs, arms wrapping around your waist as she settles back against the mound of pillows strewn at the head of the bed.

“Am I?” you ask breathlessly, ear pressing against her sweaty chest to hear the thrum of her heart.

“Extremely,” she affirms, catching your bottom lip between her teeth. “Love you, angel.”

“Are you gonna use your charger?” you call from your spot in Abby’s bed, wrapped in a new duvet and wearing one of her sweatshirts.

“Yeah, but I have another cord and charging block somewhere,” she responds from the adjoining bathroom, finishing her routine before she settles in.

You only hum in response, crawling over to her side of the bed to throw open the drawer to her side table. Your fingers blindly grasp at foreign objects in search for the telltale square of the charging block and the wrapped chord, but instead, it smoothes over something like velvet.

“Huh?” Your eyebrows twitch when you grab the object, unwedging it from where it’d been tucked into the very back of the drawer.

And you hadn’t known what to expect, but your eyes are as wide as saucers when you find a small little velveteen box. You don’t want to be presumptuous, don’t want to get your hopes up, but when you flip the lid and find the most beautiful green gem set in a thin gold band, you’re choking on the sudden wave of emotions.

“Did you find i—”

When your gaze swings to the doorway, Abby’s figure blurred by the tears pooling your eyes, she’s cussing.

“Wait, fuck.”

“Is this what I think it is?” you ask shakily.

And Abby’s usually so good at reading you, but she can’t tell what kind of tears are spilling and she’s absolutely frozen with fear because she’d been waiting for the right time to ask. But it seems like the universe has other plans as you hesitantly stand to your feet, the hem of her ‘I Love Seattle’ sweatshirt falling midthigh.

“Abby,” you grill.

“Depends on what your answer is,” she says weakly.

The silence that blankets the two of you is suffocating, has Abby feeling like her heart’s in her ass. But then you’re closing the distance, ring box still tight in your hold as you’re pushing up on your toes to throw your arms around her neck.

“Yes, Abby, what the fuck?” you hiccup.

And the relief that floods her system has her brushing the tears from under your eyes and winding tight around your frame.

“Way to ruin my surprise, asshole.”

You throw your head back with a watery laugh before pressing further into her chest.

neng ©️ 2023

[dyeher]

includes| Akaashi Keiji x Fem! Reader x Bokuto Koutaro— smut(1.3k words)

warnings| Oral Sex, Cum Play, Anal Fingering, Degradation, Mentions of Cucking, Mentions of Orgasm Denial, Mentions of Overstimulation, Dom/Sub Relationships.

notes| mean akaashi my beloved.

people regularly made the mistake of accusing akaashi of being the sane one in your relationship. his refined features, lean build, and gentle demeanor usually gave the illusion of elegance, propriety, vanilla. the assumption that a man who preferred to read and write in his spare time was boring was so, incredibly wrong. boring?

he was not.

akaashi keiji, behind the mahogany doors of your shared bedroom was a tyrant, a madman, an unforgiving dictator. the worst kind of leader. it was especially bad when he found one of his meticulously crafted rules were broken. there were three of them, two of which were assigned punishments and one that was left up in the air. open to anything.

rule 1: no one cums before you. the bane of koutaro’s existence is that once his dick gets anywhere near your soft walls, or your equally soft lips he’s left brainless. hyper-focused on the feel of them around him, and this leads to him cumming early. it’s almost like he can’t help it. punishment is overstimulation. the pro-athlete is strapped to a chair, a vibrator tied to the shaft of his cock, and left to stare in agony as akaashi eats you out, sucks and fingers at your pulsing walls until you scream koutaro’s name. koutaro is allowed to cum, as many times as he likes, and punishment usually ends when his orgasms come dry and leave him sobbing akaashi’s name.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” he sobs, “won’t do it again, ‘kaashi, ‘kaashi please, ‘m sorry.”

rule 2: no toys without supervision. you’re dating a manga editor and a professional athlete, not only are they busy often but, you make it an unfortunate habit of not saying anything when you feel neglected. this is where the trouble starts. you always end up sitting on the bed, the black box in your lap chewing on your lip as you consider how much time you have to get yourself off before one of them gets home. if it’s kou, then maybe you can guilt trip him into forgiving you but, if it’s akaashi? punishment involves denial.

you’re not allowed anywhere near their cock for the next seven days. they’ll play with you as they like though; keiji runs long fingers through your folds, teases at your hole absentmindedly, stuffs you with his favorite dildo, and watches your cunt flutter around the glass while koutaro fucks him on your shared bed; koutaro lets you watch as he fucks his fist in the shower, slaps your hand away when you reflexively reach out to help him, sucks on your nipples and litters your pretty skin with his marks but, ultimately leave you unfulfilled. on day eight you’re fucked senseless, made love to slowly, eaten out, doted on, whispered to, worshipped. their way of reminding you what they can do toys cannot.

rule 3: no lying. situations like these were when the real monster came out. an akaashi who took his glasses off before getting to the bedroom was a dangerous one. it was a stupid little lie, supposedly a prank that you and kou had dreamed up but, it had stressed akaashi out and now? now you were going to be punished.

“on your knees,” his voice is deceptively calm, like the lull in the seas before a tsunami, the silence of birds in the trees before a storm. “take me out, suck me off until I say to stop.”

koutaro scrambles to undo the waist of akaashi’s slacks and drag his dick free of it’s confines, he’s soft and koutaro instinctively leans in to run his tongue along it. it twitches, and koutaro hums.

“i don’t want to hear those; don’t hum, don’t moan,” akaashi sighs, “just, shut the fuck up, and suck my dick.”

you gulp where you’re kneeling next to kou, you can see the way he swallows around the head of akaashi’s cock and your pussy weeps a little at how badly he’s going to punish you. he’s moved your antics to the living area, so your knees are probably going to bruise from the rug under them but, you stay silent because you’ve not been addressed; you listen, to the wet sounds of koutaro choking on the pretty head of keiji’s dick.

you glance up to find glacial eyes trained on you. his lips are parted, and you can see that he’s breathing heavily.

“are you going to let him do all the work?” he asks. “get over here.” he shoves koutaro’s head off and motions for you to get closer. “you can both do it.”

kou watches from the other side of akaashi’s cock as you lick a long strip up the shaft and suckle the head into your mouth, he leans in and joins in, bringing one hand up to cup akaashi’s balls, as he sucks at the base and shaft. you pull back as one to run your tongues along the bottom. they rub against the heated flesh and each other, and akaashi moans at the sight.

“fuck,” he groans. “the only thing you’re good at-” kou gives a particularly hard suck at the base at the same time you dip lower to take one of his balls into your mouth and he whines, “-shit, being my little cock suckers, it’s the only thing.”

your lips and mouth are stained with akaashi’s pre-cum so are koutaro’s. by the time akaashi cums along both your tongues where they’re sticking out next to each other, koutaro’s cock is leaking everywhere and your cunt is soaked.

kou turns to you, tongue coated in cum and grabs you by the back of your head and shoves it against yours. your mind hazes, thoughts going cloudy; only akaashi’s cum mixed with kou’s saliva as it swishes around your mouth mixing with yours.

you moan as his tongue swirls around yours, the actions forces you to swallow the concoction and you’re just about to climb into him, when you’re separated by a harsh tug on your hair. your neck protests at the rough handling, your scalp burns but, the pain goes straight to your throbbing clit.

“always so selfish,” akaashi hisses. his cock twitches against his stomach when you let out twin sobs. “you’re not getting anything tonight.” he points out. “don’t do shit to make me angrier, who said you could use my cum like that?”

when no answer comes, he lets go of your hair with a shove. “get me the silicone dildo in the safe koutaro. the one with the vibrating head, and the lube,” he says, and you lock eyes with kou for a second. kou opens his mouth to tell akaashi that doesn’t sound like a punishment, and you slap a palm over his mouth.

“he’ll do it,” you say, “he’ll get it.”

akaashi laughs. “yes, he will.”

you’re concerned about the way akaashi’s smug smile grows wider when koutaro returns with it.

“i’ll be using it on myself,” he smiles. “you’ll sit over there and watch,” he motions to the other side of the room the matching armchairs stare back. “if I can’t make myself cum,” he tuts, “well, i have a few friends who’re willing to help.”

koutaro chokes, and you sink to your ass on the floor with a whimper, “’kaash-”

“sit, and watch,” he says, the hard edge to his voice has you both scrambling to the other side of the room. “if i don’t come, i’ll call osamu,” he chuckles, and koutaro glares at him from across the room, “him and suna would take care of me,” he sighs.

“we’re so-”

“i know, and after this you’ll think really hard about what you do and say without me,” he snarls the words and goosebumps erupt across your chest. “lying to me? what did you call it? a prank?” his laugh is hollow. “it’s almost like, my rules mean nothing to you.”

he’s stripped fully, and settled onto his knees on the couch, face down into the cushions.

“let’s hope i can make myself cum,” he groans as one of his fingers disappears into his ass. “otherwise…” he doesn’t have to say anything. both you and kou know he’d do it, this isn’t akaashi that they can argue with, this is the tryant.

[its-avalon-08]

One in which the reader is a engineer, the young drivers see her as a big sister and they are trying to get her and Hulkenberg on a date.

set us up (nh27)

im so sorry for getting to this so late, this got lost somewhere in drafts and never saw the light of day but now here it is! enjoy <3

✦ pairing - nico hulkenberg x female!reader

✦ genre - all fluff

day 1: The Coffee Caper

Y/N was exhausted. The post-race debrief had dragged on forever, and all she craved was a strong cup of coffee. Stepping into the motorhome kitchen, she was surprised to find Nico already there, rummaging through the cupboards. "Morning, Nico," she greeted, stifling a yawn. "Looking for something?"

He whirled around, a half-empty bag of coffee beans clutched in his hand. "Uh, yeah. Looks like we're out. Big day ahead, you know?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Funny. I could've sworn I saw Daniel bringing in a fresh box yesterday." Suddenly, the door burst open and Daniel Ricciardo himself strutted in, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Good morning, lovelies!" he declared, brandishing two steaming mugs. "Just brewed a fresh pot especially for you two... because, you know, sharing is caring." Y/N and Nico exchanged bewildered glances. "Thanks, Daniel," Y/N mumbled, taking the mug. "But really, there was no need."

Daniel winked. "Nonsense! Sharing a morning coffee is practically a first date tradition, wouldn't you say, Nico?" Nico choked on his own spit, sending Y/N into a fit of giggles. "Date?" Nico sputtered. "This is just coffee, mate." Daniel winked again before sauntering out, leaving Y/N and Nico flustered in his wake.

day 2: The Simulator Shuffle

Practice Day 2 was underway, and Y/N was meticulously analyzing telemetry data when Pierre Gasly materialized beside her. "Hey, Y/N," he said casually. "Need a hand setting up Nico's sim session?"

Y/N looked up, surprised. "Nico's already done with his laps?" "Uh, yeah," Pierre stammered, avoiding her gaze. "But his settings seem a bit off. Maybe you could… check them out?" Y/N raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Pierre, what's going on?"

Just then, a sheepish grin spread across Charles Leclerc's face as he peeked around the corner. "Just some friendly driver bonding, wouldn't you say, Y/N?" he chirped before disappearing as quickly as he arrived.

Y/N sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. She found Nico already strapped into the simulator, looking equally bewildered" "Hey," she greeted, a playful edge to her voice. "Having trouble with the settings?"

Nico chuckled, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Seems so. Maybe you, the resident genius, could lend a hand?" Y/N spent the next few minutes fiddling with the settings, her presence making Nico acutely aware of the way his heart hammered in his chest. They fell into an easy conversation, discussing racing lines and strategies, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface.

day 3: The Post-Race Pitstop

The race had been a nail-biter, with Red Bull pulling off a surprise victory. As the celebrations died down, Y/N found herself face-to-face with Nico by the champagne fountain. "Great race," Nico said, raising his glass in a toast. "You guys deserved that win." Y/N clinked her glass against his, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Thanks, Nico. You weren't too shabby yourself out there."

Suddenly, Alex Albon materialized behind them, holding two large ice cream tubs. "Victory ice cream, courtesy of yours truly!" he declared, shoving a tub into Y/N's hands. "Chocolate chip cookie dough, your favorite, Y/N," he winked before handing the other tub to Nico and disappearing as quickly as he arrived.

Y/N and Nico stared at each other, then at the ice cream in their hands. "Well," Nico said, a hesitant smile gracing his features. "This seems like a good spot to enjoy the view... and the ice cream." Y/N laughed, a genuine, carefree sound. "Agreed."

They sat on the pit wall, shoulder to shoulder, savoring the sweet treat and the unspoken connection that crackled between them. Maybe, just maybe, the young drivers were onto something after all.

time skip

The Monaco twilight cast an almost romantic glow over the bustling paddock after the race. Mechanics were packing up, champagne flutes were drying on tables, and a tired but satisfied energy crackled in the air. Y/N, having just finished a post-race debrief with her engineers, was about to head back to her hotel when a familiar shadow fell across her path.

"Hey," Nico greeted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Still analyzing the data? You engineers are a meticulous bunch."

Y/N smiled, the playful banter a familiar comfort. "Someone has to keep you drivers in check, make sure you haven't just been out there winging it."

Nico chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine despite herself. "Oh, trust me, there's plenty of winging it involved. But hey, at least it's entertaining."

They stood there for a moment, a comfortable silence settling between them. Y/N knew what everyone else had been whispering for days – the other drivers, trying (and failing) to subtly nudge them together. She couldn't deny there was a spark between her and Nico, a shared love for the sport that transcended results and podium finishes.

"So," Nico started, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous habit Y/N had come to find endearing. "I know this might seem a little… well, after all the matchmaking attempts from the others…"

Y/N couldn't help but grin. "Let me guess, they finally wore you down?"

"Something like that," Nico admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "But honestly, it's not just because of them. There's, uh, there's something about talking to you that's different. You understand the pressure, the thrill, the madness of it all."

His blue eyes met hers, sincere and kind. A blush crept up Y/N's cheeks. "Maybe you understand it a little too well, Mr. Hulk."

Nico's smile widened. "Maybe we could understand it together sometime, outside of the paddock. How about dinner? No post-race debriefs, just good food and good conversation."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. This wasn't just any invitation, it was Nico asking her out, on his own terms. "That sounds… perfect," she finally managed, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

"Great," Nico said, relief washing over his features. "Then how about I pick you up tomorrow night? Eight o'clock work for you?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Y/N replied, her voice brimming with excitement.

As Nico turned to leave, a playful glint returned to his eyes. "Just a warning, though," he said over his shoulder. "I might be a wing-it kind of driver, but I promise to bring my A-game to dinner."

Y/N laughed, the sound echoing through the emptying paddock. "We'll see about that, Nico. We'll see about that."

[meazalykov]

sight for sore eyes

Salma Paralluelo x BenficaPlayer!R

warnings: short chapter

Nycole Raysla dribbles the ball through Ona Batlle and Ingrid Engen outside of the box. Taking this as a golden opportunity, Y/n L/n moves through an open space to receive a possible pass.

She didn’t go unnoticed by the Brazilian forward, who passed the ball to her with her backheel. Y/n taps the ball once with her right foot before taking a shot, with Ingrid Engen missing her shot by a second. Goal!  

The Portuguese supporters erupt as Y/n runs to the corner with her hands out wide. She couldn’t believe it. This is her second goal of the night and the score is 3-3 in the 70th minute. The girl’s teammates ran by her side to congratulate her on the goal. 

“Number 7 Y/n L/n equalizes in the Champion’s League match!” the commentator screams in excitement. 

After the celebration, Y/n looks over at Salma Paralluelo on the Barcelona bench. She was substituted out for Esmee Brugts two minutes before, but she hoped that Salma saw her goal. Y/n wasn’t someone who looked for external validation, but she wanted the girl in braids to be impressed by her goal. 

Salma saw her goal, and she was impressed. 

Salma didn’t celebrate obviously, out of respect for her Barcelona team. She looked at Y/n with soft eyes and a light smile. The Benfica player took it as a silent approval. 

The girls weren't in an official relationship, but they’re in a long distance talking stage through social media. Y/n L/n is a (Reader’s Country) International who was in La Masia before signing to Benfica. She knew Salma for years, but they weren’t friends while attending the same school. 

Salma, who casually scrolled through instagram one day, stumbled upon a captivating Instagram post from Y/n. She didn’t follow her, she saw the post through a mutual friend's story. The Spanish girl knew Y/n from the academy. When Y/n left Barcelona, she didn’t notice because her promotion to the Femeni A team happened at the same time.

Salma was entranced by Y/n's striking features and magnetic presence in the post. The girl had a four photo slideshow of herself on vacation in Albania (Visual at the end). Salma couldn't resist the urge to reach out. With a flutter of excitement and confidence, she initiated a conversation through social media. Y/n was surprised by this reach out, but they've sparked an instant connection. Y/n adored Salma and Salma couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n outside of football. 

The game ended in 4-4 which disappointed the Benfica player.

She didn’t want to defeat Barcelona out of hatred or vengeance for her childhood club letting her go, but her competitiveness inside of her wanted to end their winning streak to boost her team’s morale.

As Y/n places on her red puffer jacket and pulls the tight hair tie out of her hair, she looks over at her teammate who walks towards her. 

“Congrats on the goal against your old club!” Jessica Sliva pats on Y/n’s back. The younger girl smirks before shaking her head. 

“Thank you...... Sorry- I feel like I shouldn’t have celebrated it.” Y/n confesses when her appreciation sounded monotoned. Jessica lowers her eyebrows in confusion, “Why?” 

“Barcelona is the club I grew up with. People might consider the celebration I did as disrespectful.” Y/n swallowed. Jessica smirks before looking behind Y/n, seeing a particular girl 40 feet away with her own team. 

“Is it because of that, or is it because of Salma?” Jessica smirks and nods her head towards someone behind them. 

Y/n turns and sees Salma looking at her. The girl blushes and waves at the Spanish, who waves at her back with a shy smile.

“You’re in love, girl.” Jessica jokes. 

“Shut up!” Y/n laughed, not denying it.

The girl continued to look at Salma as Jessica walked away. She knew that she had to go talk to her, but she is shy. All she does is admire from afar.

“What a sight for sore eyes.” Y/n thought, looking at Salma who moved to talk to Vicky Lopez. 

Two months earlier....

(Pretend you're in the pictures below)

y/n.l/n

sarandë, albania

tagged: jackie_groenen_14

liked by esmeebrugts, urbestie, and 11,237 others

loving albania 🇦🇱

comments

urbestie I LOVE THESE PICTURES OMGGG

jackie_groenen_14 had a good time 🤩

evagaetino 🥰

wosoplayers457 SO CUTEEEE

barcefemenifan7 come back to Barcelona 🔵🔴

shesaballer you are not beating the psg transfer rumors

salmaparalluelo followed y/n.l/n

an: hope you liked :)

[cherepizza]

Thought it wouldn't be bad for horizontal animals to have more limbs, because more limbs = more things you can do with them, so beacons should get an upgrade too. Now they have 9 limbs – 5 hands and 4 legs, but that doesn't really change anything or contradict the leading hand thing, because they regard the double hand part as one hand or a "hand unit". Since these two hands are most of the time used simultaneously it doesn't really matter which one is the leading hand, but if none of them is, that's going to get noticed

Two eyes for each hand unit, 8 total. There's a 9th eye on the top of their head that acts as a third eye present in some animals of our planet

This also gives me an idea that beacons would often be too lazy to portrait all 9 eyes in their art, especially if they're portraying a horizontal animal, because we literally do the same thing. Not many people would draw a stylized fly with five eyes and a spider with the whole eight eyes set. As long as you can guess an animal from its silhouette shape and a few key features, no additional details are needed

I'm not very good at describing breathing and how sounds are made, but well here's an attempt of doing so. Hexapodal beacons have 3 lungs, each with some sort of a voice box. All voice boxes are equally developed, and only two of them are being used when speaking, while the third one is "resting", giving beacons the ability to chatter nonstop. It's the opposite in horizontal animals, whose upper lung does not have an exhaling nostril, and air just comes out of the inhaling one. Upper voice box is the most developed, and side voice boxes cannot produce any complex sounds, except probably low noises, but some animals cannot do even that. Now they have 4 lungs, but that's bot much of a change (for vertical animals, at least). Singing in four voices is certainly an art of its own, but any regular beacon is fine speaking with only two