#future of Instagram filters

[jypsyvloggin]

The End of Instagram Filters: What to Expect with the 2025 AI Update?

The End of Instagram Filters: A Shift to New Possibilities Well, folks, the big news is out! Instagram is officially removing third-party AR filters, and the shift is already starting to make waves in the creator community. For those of us who have enjoyed the endless fun and creativity that filters brought, it’s definitely a bittersweet moment. But, while the filters are disappearing, it’s not…

[okartichoke]

HIII KITH AND KIN !!!!!! i'm finally officially rebranding myself as squirrel, just as god intended. (i <3 squirrels)

if anybody wants to ask me abt this character i would love u forever~~ :333333 (read as: in my first draft of this post, i rambled about him for way too long, then subsequently got embarrassed and deleted it all LOL)

more squirrel related screaming in the tags if you are interested >:3333 ok bye i hope you're doing well bye !!!

[jcmarchi]

Claude Feature Enables Customized Writing Styles

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/claude-feature-enables-customized-writing-styles/

Claude Feature Enables Customized Writing Styles

Let us start with something we all know – AI responses often sound like they came from AI. Everything might feel a bit too polished, structured, or cliche. That has been one of the biggest hurdles in making AI truly useful for everyday communication.

Picture every AI interaction you have had – they likely often follow the same pattern: precise, technically correct, but missing that human touch. It is like talking to someone who learned communication from a textbook rather than through real conversations.

To finally fix this, Anthropic just rolled out a game-changing feature for Claude that tackles it head-on. Instead of forcing users to adapt to the AI’s way of communicating, they have flipped the script – now Claude adapts to your style.

Why is this such a big deal? Think about how we communicate in real life. You probably do not use the same tone in a team meeting that you use when catching up with friends. You naturally adjust your style based on context. That is exactly what this new feature brings to AI interaction – the ability to match your natural communication patterns.

The Technical Framework

So how does this actually work under the hood? The technology behind Claude’s style adaptation is pretty interesting. Unlike simple text matching or template-based approaches, it is built on advanced pattern recognition that analyzes multiple layers of writing characteristics.

When you interact with Claude, it’s not just processing individual words – it is understanding the entire structure of how you communicate. This includes:

Sentence patterns and length variation

Transition style between ideas

Word choice patterns

Structural organization preferences

The system comes with three core preset styles that serve as foundational frameworks:

Formal: For when you need that polished, professional touch

Concise: When you want straight-to-the-point communication

Explanatory: Perfect for detailed breakdowns and teaching moments

This flexibility marks a significant shift from the one-size-fits-all approach we’ve seen in previous AI systems.

The training methodology is where things get really interesting. Rather than just mimicking surface-level patterns, Claude analyzes writing samples to understand the deeper structure of communication – the subtle patterns that make your writing uniquely yours. It is like teaching an AI to recognize your communication fingerprint.

Credit: Anthropic

Mastering the Art of Style Training

Let us dive into what makes this system special – the ability to create custom styles that match your way of communicating. It goes beyond simple mimicry.

When you feed Claude writing samples, it is analyzing multiple layers of your communication style:

How you structure your arguments

Your unique ways of transitioning between ideas

Those writing quirks that make your voice distinctly yours

The way you balance technical depth with accessibility

Here is where the real technical innovation shines. Unlike previous AI systems that relied on basic tone adjustments (think of those old “formal vs. casual” toggles), Claude’s pattern recognition goes much deeper. The system processes your writing samples through multiple analysis layers:

Surface Layer: Basic elements like word choice and sentence length

Structural Layer: How you organize and present information

Contextual Layer: Understanding when and how you shift between different tones

Pattern Recognition: Identifying your unique writing “fingerprint”

Setting New Standards in AI Communication

What we are seeing here is not just another incremental update but rather a shift in how AI systems understand and replicate human communication patterns.

Here is why this matters:

Moves beyond template-based responses

Advanced pattern recognition capabilities

Dynamic style adaptation in real-time

Integration with existing language model strengths

Remember when chatbots first appeared? They were basically glorified decision trees. Then came the era of large language models that could generate human-like text, but still in that unmistakably “AI” voice. This new development represents the next evolutionary step – AI that can truly adapt its communication style to match yours.

The competitive landscape is worth noting here. While other AI assistants have basic tone adjustments, they are more like Instagram filters – preset options that feel artificial. Claude’s approach is different because it learns from your actual writing patterns, creating a more authentic replication of your communication style.

Pro Tip: Think of this like teaching AI your personal “communication API” – once it understands your style, every interaction becomes more natural and efficient.

Think about the underlying implications:

Neural networks that can identify and replicate complex communication patterns

Advanced context awareness in language processing

New approaches to training language models

Potential breakthroughs in cross-cultural communication understanding

Today we are teaching AI to match writing styles. Tomorrow? We might be teaching it to understand and adapt to cultural communication norms across different societies.

The pattern recognition technology powering these style adaptations could revolutionize other areas of AI development:

Medical diagnostics that adapt to different patient communication needs

Financial systems that match reporting styles across different regulatory frameworks

Legal AI that can switch between different jurisdictional writing requirements

Educational systems that automatically adjust to individual learning patterns

The technical implications extend far beyond just making AI sound more natural. We’re looking at fundamental improvements in how machines process and adapt to human behavioral patterns.

What is really exciting is how this might influence the development of future AI architectures. Could we see neural networks specifically designed for dynamic adaptation? Will this lead to new approaches in machine learning that we have not even considered yet?

The new customized writing styles and tones from Claude could potentially lay the foundation for an entirely new approach to human-AI interaction. And that is what makes this development truly groundbreaking.

[mehrfh]

Some thoughts, until next time!

It will be a while before I come back to Tumblr but I should be thankful to that Instagram reel of Jinmao that introduced me to this masterclass in storytelling....I devoured the source material and loved everything about the anime...As the second season wraps up with end of an important arc and end of certain characters we will either not see for the foreseeable future or will be relegated to the periphery, next few arcs are about some new characters and some of the characters in two seasons getting more screen space than they had (read Lahan and Rikuson)....I had some thoughts and I am going to share them until next time, this will be kind of my last long post for now...

Friendship, Betrayal, Uncertainty and Fate's gamble...

For me, despite the clamour of last few episodes, these bonds meant friendship and I will be leaving thoughts accordingly... And I will not try to make it about Shisui only (I have spoken enough on her)....These two were MaoMao's some of the most precious of bonds...Shisui and Xiaolan gave MaoMao space to be herself without any obstacle of her upsetting a superior, she did not have to care about her station in front of these two... Moreover, they accepted her for her talents and quirks...They were truly precious, safe and non-judgmental like a friendship is supposed to be....So the hurt was piercing when it all came crashing down....

A friend's betrayal and another friend's loss cut a soul like MaoMao deep because the love was deep... Xiaolan and Shisui had made MaoMao realise she had a support system to rely on and they were in this together, for such bonds to meet such uncertain ends where MaoMao is not even sure if she will ever see them again (Shisui because we know and Xiaolan given she never knows the address of where she went)...Fate was cruel to these three, more so for Shisui, as she was pushed to the brink...I hope their innocent revelries had not met such a twisted end...

Kindness as an Eternal Principle

I cannot put in words how much this scene moved me...Jinshi, for me showed a glimpse of a really noble ruler knowing his subjects too well, given the way he gently broke news of children surviving to Suirei...And Suirei, my precious one, suffered like hell and to see her finally getting some good news was such a moving and relieving scene...To know that she was initially represented as a cold-cutting character, her unraveling as an abuse victim and her beautiful bond with Shisui was so deeply moving.....I love how one main thing common between Jinshi and MaoMao remains their kindness for other people 's suffering...The way it makes them understand even most dangerous of people (narratively speaking)...This moment is perfect encapsulation of Jinshi's kindness as he is literally dealing with a former assassin who made a very dangerous attempt on his life and was involved in various other fatal incidents at the rear palace! There is a reason I put him on a pedestal!

:)

Love as Poetry in War and Peace...

You would think Love is not there, you may bite, argue, apply vague and poorly defined filters and parameters, call people on their side every kind of name but no matter what you do or say, some stories are bound by Poetry of their time...Kind of Love that doesn't betray you at the altar of politics, kind of Love where reverence by someone is like getting a second chance at living... Love that is whispered in the air, it straddles in subtle moments...Love that grows, and fulfills... It doesn't need noise, or fireworks, to register....Love that nurtures and waits for other with incredible patience...Love that becomes yearning, angst and even anger but not betrayal, never betrayal...

Love as Reverence, as Poetry, Love as between Moon and Earth...

Bereave the Past

But Future is smiling!

Lastly, What is the Cost of Politics?

Everything....

[inkpetrichor]

Nasty Dog! | Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

1.- Part one.

masterlist here<3

cw. MDNI. fem! reader. delinquent! reader. use of yn. smoking. cursing. smut. dry humping. dirty talking. power struggle. both you and kuroo are kinda feral. lemme know if i missed anything ;3 wc. 5.6k an. i blame this on sir mix-a-lot and my instagram fyp. enjoy<3 comments are appreciated <3

And when I catch a little kitty lookin', oh, so tough Bring hot water 'cause I might get stuck!

Nekoma wasn't huge, but it wasn't some tiny rundown school either. It wasn't a prestigious rich-kid academy like Fukurodani, but it wasn't a dump. You'd call it perfectly average—just balanced enough to create a decent social jungle.

The school had its fair share of quiet nerds, top-ranking students, sports freaks, and, of course, the so-called delinquents, as adults liked to whisper whenever they saw kids with piercings, dyed hair, or a cigarette hanging from their lips.

You? You belonged in the latter category.

Which is why, during lunch break, you and your bestfriend Emi had a cigarette and a canned coffee for lunch, tucked into a secluded corner she'd found and claimed after a teacher caught you smoking behind the gym a week before and threw a fit about it, forcing you to find a better place.

You leaned against the sun-warmed brick, one boot crossed over the other as the late morning light sliced through the cracks between the buildings.

The sky was too blue for how shitty the day had started.

"Inukai-sensei scolded you again? What a drag." 

Emi's voice broke through the idle silence, syrupy with a mix of concern and genuine amusement. She had her eyes closed and face looking up into the sky, bathing in the sun like a happy cat.

You nodded in response.

"Another lecture about skipping class and how I could amount to more and to 'please think of my future' and yeah... The usual." You waved a hand in the air as if you could swat away his voice. Just retelling it made your skin itch with anxiety. You patted your blazer for your cigarettes.

Emi let out a thoughtful hum. And opened her eyes to study you with a tilt of her head.

"Well, he's right. You used to get really good grades in first year..."

You shot her a disgusted look, scrunching your nose.

She laughed, brushing you off. "Hey, I'm just saying. Why waste your time with us anyway? Why don't you listen to Inukai-sensei and get your grades back up?"

"I just don't get the point of chasing 'academic success' All that effort just to end up working in some office that'll suck me dry and bury me under unpaid overtime like the rest of this country?" You scoffed, still patting your pockets. "Bullshit... Where are the fucking things?"

Emi rolled her eyes and reached into your bag, retrieving the familiar box with a practiced flick of her wrist. She stole one for herself, already slipping it between her glossy lips.

Emi was loud, pouty, and wore trouble like lip gloss. Shiny, sweet, and impossible to ignore, she floated through the chaos of Nekoma High with a glossy grin and one too many questionable friends (one of them being you).

The perfect image of a bleach-blonde puppy pretending to run with the big dogs.

But underneath the fake lashes and the too-short skirts, she was pure heart: loyal, messy, a little reckless, and your best friend.

She loved too fast, forgave too easily, and stuck to your side like her life depended on it. In a city full of knives disguised as smiles, Emi was an open wound—raw, real, and stupidly brave. A rare trait in Nekoma. You'd landed more than a few punches to protect her, and you were willing to land many more if it meant she was out of harm.

"You sound like such a snob, Y/N."

You snorted as she handed over the box.

"Thanks, babes," you whispered as you took it form her hands, pulling a cigarette out of the box. "Call me whatever you want. As long as I pass and graduate, the rest is useless." You bit down on the filter of your cigarette, patting your pockets again, this time in search of your lighter.

"Sure, sure. You've gotten enough lectures today. I've got my own problems anyway." Emi sighed, reaching into your left pocket and fishing out the lighter. She lit her own cigarette before handing it to you. You gave her a grateful nod. "Yasuo broke up with me. What's up with that?"

You didn't really hear her. Your gaze was already drifting toward something—someone—far more interesting. Your lips parted just a little, cigarette hanging forgotten between your lips.

Kuroo Tetsurou, striding across the schoolyard.

Broad shoulders, long legs, the kind of posture that said I know exactly who I am.

His hair was a wild mess—bedhead in the most deliberate, devastating way, like he'd rolled out of someone else's bed and still looked hotter than anyone had a right to. It was all jagged spikes and volume, practically defying gravity, but somehow it worked for him.

Too well.

Next to him walked a shorter guy with a slouched posture and his eyes glued to his phone. But your eyes? Locked on Kuroo like a heat-seeking missile.

He turned his head slightly, talking to his friend with a lazy grin. You caught a glimpse of sharp, narrow eyes and a grin that looked like trouble.

The kind of cocky smile that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and was daring you to think it louder.

Your heartbeat stuttered, then picked up like it was trying to break free from your chest.

Fuck, he was hot.

The kind of hot that made you want to do something reckless.

Like ruin your academic record.

Or make it better.

Or crawl into his lap and ask him to tutor you in anything but math.

Eureka.

"Very cute," you muttered under your breath and lit up the smoke, eyes raking over him like he was your next bad decision wrapped in a school uniform.

(He was.)

Emi's voice rose in protest beside you. "Hey! Are you even listening to me?!"

You crushed the flavor capsule between your teeth, a little too hard.

"Who's the hottie? Never seen him before..." you murmured, half to yourself, half to Emi—afraid that if you took your eyes from him, he'd vanish.

Emi's annoyed pout was immediately replaced by a curious squint. "Eh?"

"The tall one, next to blondie," you pressed with a jerk of your chin in his direction, your body practically leaning forward like gravity itself was pulling you toward him. "You know him?"

Of course she did. Emi knew everyone.

She followed your line of sight—and her face lit up with recognition. "Oh! I do, he's the captain of the volleyball team... Tetsurou! Kuroo Tetsurou. He's in Class 5, I think."

"Kuroo Tetsurou-kun, huh?"

You rolled the name over your tongue like candy, savoring every syllable.

"Class 5... so hot and smart. I like."

You needed him.

Biblically.

You didn't notice Emi's wide-eyed stare as she put two and two together, looking between you and Kuroo with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

"Wait—seriously? Him?" she spluttered.

You shot her a glare, brows raised.

"Don't get me wrong," she rushed, "he is hot. And he does sports. And he's like, top of his class, I'm pretty sure. Pretty good catch... for a good girl."

You scoffed. "Pfff. Who's the snob now?"

"I'm just saying. I don't think he'd mingle with the likes of us. You could have any of the guys if you wanted."

You made a face like you'd tasted something sour. "The guys have no brains. And even less charm. Brain-eating bacteria would starve up there."

She blinked. "Brain-eating... what?"

You shrugged, lighting your cigarette with a smirk.

"Besides, it's the chase that's exciting. He looks like a tough cookie. I like that."

Emi snorted. "Girl, if he's a cookie, you're a box of cheap cigs. You two don't mix."

But you weren't listening anymore.

Your sights were set, your interest fully piqued. Your mind was already spinning a thousand possibilities.

And right now? You wanted Kuroo Tetsurou under you.

Or on top of you.

Or really anywhere he wanted to be. But that was beside the point.

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing on him like a predator sizing up prey.

"Magnetism, honey. Polar opposites attract... sometimes."

You took another drag, eyes back on Emi. "But no pain, no gain. Whaddaya think?"

"I think you're insane," Emi said, laughing, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "But I love it when you get that crazy look in your eyes. It means a shitshow's about to happen."

"Thank you, babes."

"You know it. Always got your back."

"If you need someone dead, you know who to call." You winked, and she rolled her eyes with a smile.

"No new info there." She took her final drag, then ground the cigarette out under her shoe.

She turned back toward Kuroo and his friend. "Okay, but real talk—how're you gonna pull this off? You need a plan."

You mirrored her movement, flicking away your cigarette and pulling a tissue from your blazer pocket to pick it up.

"I'm working on one. Step zero is in motion." You handed her the crumpled tissue. "Pick up your butt or the teachers will know we smoke here now."

"Oh shit, you're right." She bent to grab the butt, mumbling as she moved. "You see? You're smart—Eh? Where are you—"

When she looked up, you were already walking.

Purpose in every step.

The distance between you and him closed with every beat of your heart, Emi's voice fading behind you as she scrambled to catch up. The sun hit your back. The breeze lifted your hair. And in your head?

You were already imagining his hands on your waist, his voice in your ear, the way that smirk might look beneath you.

He looked even taller up close.

Even hotter.

And you needed him like your lungs needed that next hit of nicotine.

The two boys stopped talking, eyes flicking up as you approached.

You looked up at Kuroo with a tilted head and a smirk.

"What's your name?" you asked, even though you already knew.

Conversation had to start somewhere.

Kenma scrunched his nose immediately, catching a whiff of cigarette smoke before he could.

You caught it—a flicker. Kuroo's pupils dilated. A split-second widening of the eyes before suspicion slammed into place.

Cute.

Kuroo was already analyzing you. Running the odds.

He couldn't quite place what your intentions were, but something about the way you looked at him told him it couldn't be anything good.

His eyes narrowed, as though trying to peel back the layers of your carefully crafted nonchalance. He didn't trust easily, and people like you... well, you had a way of being unpredictable.

Kuroo knew you, or at least he had heard of you.

You were infamous in ways that made most people wary, always getting into fights with girls and boys alike, to the point that more than one person he knew was outright afraid of you.

Still, for some reason, the teachers—despite the rebellious streak you wore like armor—seemed to favor you. They kept trying to pull you out of whatever bumpy road you'd decided to drive down, but he couldn't see why.

You were... trouble. Big trouble.

But despite that, there was something undeniably magnetic about you. And damn it, he couldn't help but wonder if it was curiosity or something deeper that had him paying more attention to you than he probably should.

You were also lowkey hot to him—highkey, super pretty. But way too much trouble to pursue.

So, what the hell were you doing right in front of him?

"Kuroo Tetsurou," he answered, tone neutral.

"Nice. I'm—"

"Y/N," he interrupted. "Most people know you."

"Most people know about me." You caught the way Kenma cringed at your words. It made you smile.

There was a moment of silence between you, where you took your sweet time examining his features. His eyes flickered, maybe to keep his cool, maybe to hide the fact that he was intrigued—his eyebrows raised, like saying 'So... what do you want?'

But he was fronting. Freaking out on the inside. Still trying to make sense of you. He wasn't sure if you were about to punch him, kiss him, or just walk away.

The worst part? He couldn't figure out which one he hated less.

Your unassuming smile made it hard to read you, but there was something in the way you looked at him he liked. Your eyes looked curious. Like a dog sniffing a possible friend.

Or a prey.

"Would you tutor me?" You saw Kuroo's eyes snap to Emi, whose jaw hit the floor the moment the words left your lips.

He scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, tutor me. My homeroom teacher has been giving me shit about grades, and I'd like to graduate."

He shrugged. "Naturally."

Oh, so he was a smartass.

"Would you?"

"Why me?"

"Aren't you in class 5? That means you're smart."

He wasn't budging. His expression remained unconvinced, the flicker of suspicion in his eyes never fully disappeared.

And then there was the look on Emi's face, like she was questioning your sanity. Yeah, that confirmed it—he was right.

This was bullshit. There had to be more to it than just grades.

"I'll pay you."

Both Kenma and Emi looked at you with wide, unblinking eyes. Kuroo's lips curled into a sly smirk. 

Now he was really curious. 

He leaned in just a little, intrigued. "How much?"

"1000 yen." Emi's eyes almost popped out of her head. Why were you willing to pay him?

"3000 yen." Kenma's face shot to Kuroo, equally shocked. Why was he raising the price?

Your smile grew. Why was this kinda hot?

"Are you trying to scam me, smart boy?"

"Pfft, that's a miscalculation, considering you'll be taking away my study time to help you out."

You raised an eyebrow.

He looked down at you like he didn't regret this conversation anymore.

And you looked up at him like you were about to set his entire world on fire.

"2500." You offered your final bid. His smirk widened.

"Y/N!" Emi whispered in urgency.

"Done."

Your smile grew. "Okay. Thursdays after class."

"After practice," he corrected, voice smooth.

You shrugged. That worked for you.

"Can I go watch?" you teased, flashing a cheeky grin.

"I'd rather not." His smirk deepened as a pout tugged at your lips. That look suited you.

"Fair. See you Thursday, smart boy~" You waved a hand at both of them as you turned to walk away.

Kuroo watched you go, still wearing that crooked grin—but now, there was something else behind it.

Interest. Amusement.

A flicker of intrigue he hadn't expected to feel on a Monday.

You'd crashed into his day like a storm in lip gloss and leather, and now he couldn't stop wondering what the hell you really wanted from him.

Kenma nudged his elbow. "You're actually gonna tutor her?"

"She's paying," he replied, though his gaze was still on your retreating figure. "And she's... interesting."

"Interesting's one word for it," Kenma muttered, unamused.

Meanwhile, Emi was dragging you down the school grounds back to your little corner like you were a possessed doll, whisper-screaming at you in complete disbelief.

"What the actual hell was that?!"

"What?" you said, feigning innocence as you pulled out another cigarette, mostly for effect. "I got a tutor. Aren't you proud of me?"

"You just offered to pay the guy to spend time with you—and called him smart boy, by the way. That was a little cringe."

You exhaled with a grin, smoke curling past your lips. "And he didn't say no."

Emi looked like she wanted to peel her own face off, but she wore a shocked smile.

"You're insane," she whispered, like she couldn't believe you.

But you? You felt electric. Buzzing with adrenaline and reckless possibility.

Being honest, even you couldn't explain what had you this hooked in the first place. It wasn't like you to flirt, let alone sleep around—especially not with some guy you'd just met. You weren't even that experienced, really. Just good at faking it when you had to. You knew how to make guys back off, not draw them in. And you liked it that way—especially with a friend as stupidly pretty as Emi. 

Someone had to be the one with teeth.

But the second you laid eyes on Kuroo, something unfamiliar ignited in your chest. Hot. Sharp. Wild. It didn't feel like danger, not exactly—but it burned just the same. And without thinking twice, without looking back, you lunged toward it like instinct. Like hunger.

You weren't chasing chaos for the thrill this time.

You were chasing him.

And there wasn't a single part of you planning to stop.

When Thursday rolled around—and after confirming to Emi three separate times that yes, you were going to pay him, and yes, you were trying to fuck him—you actually paid attention in class. Took notes, too, so you didn't show up to tutoring empty-handed. Half-assed, sure, but it was something. You even waited for him outside school like you said you would.

The spring wind clawed at your jacket as you leaned against the weather-worn "Nekoma Metropolitan High School" sign, flicking ash from your cigarette like you weren't freezing your ass off. Rust crept along the metal edges, and the chain-link fence behind you rattled every time the breeze picked up. You looked every bit the part of a stray dog waiting to be fed—eyes sharp, restless, scanning for the only person you'd follow home.

You caught sight of him leaving the gym, towel slung around his neck, hair damp and a little more tousled than usual from practice. Of course he wasn't alone—Kenma trailed behind, glued to his phone, already scowling once he noticed you.

Kuroo slowed when he saw you, surprise flickering across his face. He clearly hadn't expected you to follow through on your offer, and the corner of his mouth twitched like he couldn't decide whether to be impressed or concerned. But once it was clear you were serious—and once you confirmed the study session was happening at your place—he tossed a quick goodbye over his shoulder and followed you through the alley-strewn veins of Tokyo.

Your apartment complex looked like it had seen better decades.

Rusty stairwells, cracked concrete, the faint smell of piss, mildew, and something metallic hanging in the air like a permanent tenant.

Neon light from a busted sign across the street flickered through your broken blinds.

The building groaned when the wind pushed through its joints, and the elevator had been broken since forever.

Kuroo took it all in with that quiet, unreadable look you'd noticed he got sometimes—eyes narrowed, thoughtful.

He didn't say anything. That was somehow worse.

Inside, the place wasn't much better. Cigarette smoke clung to the yellowing walls.

A stained countertop, three empty ramen cups, a crumpled paper bag, and a scrawled note waited:

For your tutoring and anything else. I have a fight today. Grandma's at the pachinko. Behave.

It was scrawled in your dad's sloppy, half-illegible handwriting. Kuroo read it, then blinked slowly like he wasn't sure if he was impressed or deeply concerned.

You grabbed the bag, tossing the note into the dented trash bin with a smirk.

"A fight," he muttered, still processing as he followed you down the hall. His gaze drifted around your room like it was offering up pieces of you without permission—band posters, a half-broken fan, a low table in front of a dusty floor TV.

"My dad's a boxer," you explained, toeing off your slippers and throwing your bag onto the bed.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. "And your grandma's a—"

"Pachinko enthusiast," you finished, grin crooked. "So we've got the place to ourselves until at least nine."

You thought he'd get the hint. His Adam's apple bobbed—nervous? Excited? You couldn't tell. But when he sat down cross-legged at your low table and pulled out his books like he was actually here to tutor you, you almost groaned aloud.

"So," he said, pulling a blue folder from his bag, "let's see what you're failing."

"You actually got my report card? That's commitment." you said, raising a brow.

He ignored your teasing as he flipped through the papers. "You're not failing anything, surprisingly. But your chem grades are garbage."

You flopped dramatically onto your bed. "I'm struggling."

"I see that," he muttered, pulling out a notebook. "Come on."

You sat up with a groan and dragged yourself to the table, grabbing a pen. He didn't look at you when you settled beside him, but you caught the slight shift in his posture when your knee bumped his. He cleared his throat and started explaining covalent bonds.

You half-listened. You watched his mouth move instead.

His voice was smooth, confident. He was focused, leaning over your textbook, one hand pointing at a diagram, the other scribbling notes with clean, sharp handwriting.

He smelled like cheap body spray, shampoo and faint sweat from practice.

Your hand slipped onto his thigh.

"Tetsurou-kun," you said, all syrup and heat, "you can't seriously think you're here to actually study, right?"

He froze. Swallowed. Then, to your shock, lifted his gaze with forced calm.

"What am I?" he asked. "Some common whore you're gonna pay to fuck?"

The words cut sharper than you expected. Your smile faltered. You hadn't meant it like that. You weren't sure what you'd meant, actually. Suddently this whole thing felt a little shittier.

Your fingers twitched where they rested against his thigh, but you didn't pull them back.

"N-no," you muttered. "I just—" You exhaled, frustrated. "I didn't think this far ahead, okay?"

He watched you. Read through you. His expression softened a little, the edge in his voice gone. But he still didn't touch you.

You were about to say something else—maybe change the subject, maybe apologize—when he talked again, teasing.

"You actually want to learn this or not?"

You blinked, thrown off. "Huh?"

He held up the notebook. "Chemistry."

You stared at him. Then, grudgingly, nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

You leaned in, this time actually paying attention. Took notes. Bit your lip when he smirked at your compliments and felt your stomach tighten every time he laughed when you cursed at the confusing parts.

"Not gonna lie, you make this sound way easier than the teacher. What the fuck," you grumbled.

He seemed to like the praise, smiling beside you while he continued to explain.

His voice settled into your ears like warm honey. When you answered his questions right, he smirked. When you got one wrong, he nudged you with his knee and explained it again, slower this time.

You hated that he was good at this. That he made you want to keep going just to see the way his eyes lit up when you understood something.

Eventually, the lesson became background noise. Your focus shifted to the way his knee brushed yours, to the way he stole glances at your thighs like he didn't want to be caught but also didn't care enough to stop. To the way his fingers moved—long, elegant, tapping the page as he talked, not realising he was doing it.

His mouth, his voice, his brain—God, this was so much worse than you'd planned. He was actually hot and smart.

You were openly staring at his lips when he finally noticed.

"What?" he asked, brow arching.

"Nothing," you said, leaning back with a slow smirk. "Just wondering how you make covalent bonds sound hot."

That got a laugh, rough and short. But his ears were a little pink.

"Thought you liked ionic bonds more," he teased with a raised brow.

"Don't get me wrong, ionic bonds are cool. Covalent bonds are... hot."

"That's a new one," he said, voice low. "Gonna start rating chemistry terms by sex appeal now? Want me to whisper 'intermolecular forces' next?"

You snorted. "Don't tempt me. I might actually learn something."

"Blasphemy," he said, mock-scandalized. "You learning? In my presence? Next thing I know you'll be asking about valence electrons like you mean it."

You sat up, leaned in, and closed the book between you with a soft thud.

"Okay, I was good. I listened. Took notes. Didn't even flirt for twenty straight minutes." You raised a brow. "Now, when are you gonna stop pretending this is actually about chemistry?"

That wiped the grin off his face—but not entirely. It curved at the corners, wry and knowing. His gaze didn't leave yours. You saw the fraying edges of restraint, the tension vibrating between you.

"Isn't it?" he asked, the words almost gentle.

But his pupils blew wide when they dropped to your lips. You caught it. And still, you didn't move.

You weren't about to force it. A single "no" or even a flicker of hesitation from him and you were ready to throw in the towel, swallow your embarrassment for the rest of the session—maybe learn some more chemistry and then avoid him for the rest of your last school year. Hopefully, the rest of your life.

You let the silence hang a beat longer.

"Look..." you exhaled. "I'm not really good at this. I just pretend I am."

That caught him off guard.

He could tell—you were slick, but he was smart. Sharp enough to see through you and that overconfident persona you put on, but he hadn't expected you to admit it. Not like this. Not in your room, with his textbook sitting closed between your thighs. At least, he knew he wouldn't have.

You saw the shift immediately—his breath catching, his posture tightening ever so slightly.

"Huh," he said after a second. "Guess I'm not the only one bluffing their way through this study session."

"So you're saying you don't get turned on by covalent bonds?"

That earned a soft huff. He leaned forward, eyes sharp, voice low.

"Depends. Are you offering to share some electrons, or...?"

You laughed. His hand moved slowly, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear. And when he looked at you this time, it wasn't with that usual playful glint.

It was something raw. Like honesty.

"I like you," you admitted, tilting your head slightly. "But I don't really know what I'm doing."

"Good," he murmured. "Then we're even."

Then, slowly—finally—he leaned in to meet your lips.

Soft at first. Testing. But when you answered back—with a hunger he didn't expect—the leash snapped. His hand slid behind your neck, anchoring you against him as his mouth claimed yours. His tongue licked into your mouth with filthy, unhurried precision, dragging a whimper from your throat.

He kissed like he meant it. No fumbling. No hesitation.

You gasped when he tugged your hair just enough to tilt your head back, and the gasp melted into a moan when his other hand traced up your spine, pulling you closer—guiding you over to sit on his left thigh. Your fingers twisted into his shirt, clutching him like he was the only thing holding you up.

"You're all talk," he muttered against your lips, grinning when you shivered after a well-placed flex of his thigh. "But so am I."

You squeezed your eyes shut—dazed, aching, and a little embarrassed.

"...Shut up," you breathed, your usual sass caught somewhere between your throat and the pounding in your chest.

His smile turned downright wicked. His mouth dragged along your jaw, down your neck. You squirmed, knees bracketing his thigh as his hands slipped under your shirt, palms hot and rough against the bare skin of your back and waist.

"You don't have to act tough," he whispered, voice rough and reverent. "I think I like you more like this. Messy."

His mouth dipped to your collarbone, kissing and biting the sensitive skin. Every nerve in your body lit up.

Your head tilted back to give him more space, heart thudding so hard you thought it might crack your ribs. Your tough-girl act had fully melted now, replaced with the kind of hunger you'd been feeling since the first time you saw him—the kind of hunger you didn't know how to fake.

"God," you gasped. "You're not supposed to be good at this..."

He chuckled low in his throat, kissing a line down your chest. "Top of my class, remember?"

"Smart boy..." you growled—but it came out more like a broken, desperate plea. "If you don't—"

He cut you off with another kiss, deeper, devastating. His hands dragged up your stomach, slow and sure, thumbs brushing the underside of your bra with maddening patience.

You tried to shove him gently back, straddling his lap like you could wrestle some control back—but the second his dark, hungry gaze locked onto yours, you felt your composure crack.

"You sure you're inexperienced?" you asked, trying to tease—but your voice betrayed you, too breathless to land the hit.

He didn't even dignify it with a real answer. Just kissed you again, harder—tongue sweeping into your mouth like he fucking owned it. His hands clutched your hips like he was trying to brand himself into your bones, and after a small, involuntary moan slipped from your throat, you pulled back with a narrowed look, silently demanding a response.

He just shrugged. That maddening, smug little shrug. Like he hadn't just made your whole body tremble.

"I'm a fast learner," he said, trailing his mouth down your throat, voice dropping lower.

A shiver went up your spine as he bit down at your pulse point, and you whimpered, threading your fingers into his messy hair and tugging.

Still, you didn't stop him.

Didn't want to.

This was what you wanted, wasn't it? To see if all that cocky arrogance and big-dick energy were just a front.

And judging by the thick length of him, already hard beneath you and pressing snug under your embarrassingly wet core...

You might've bitten off more than you could chew.

Kuroo unbuttoned your shirt slowly, peeled it off your shoulders, and tossed it aside—then paused for just a second.

His gaze was scorching.

Starving. Almost reverent.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathed. "What a pain in the ass."

"Huh? Which one is it?" you whispered, smirking—until his mouth latched onto the top of your breast, sucking hard enough to make you tense a little. It burned in the best way—lingering and possessive.

He unclasped your bra like he'd done it a thousand times, and the second you were bare in front of him, his hands were everywhere—palming your tits, dragging his thumbs over your nipples until they were tight and sensitive. Squeezing. Claiming.

Then his mouth followed.

Hot. Wet. Perfect.

His tongue circled a nipple, then flicked it—slow at first, then rougher—and you arched with a soft, broken moan.

"Oh my god," you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as your hips rolled. "You're dangerous."

He laughed against your skin, biting just enough to make you jolt.

"Top of my class," he muttered again—infuriating, smug, hot as hell.

You rocked down harder, grinding against the hard bulge in his pants, and his breath stuttered. He gripped your hips tighter—bruising—guiding your movement with a low, wrecked groan.

"Fuuuck..." he breathed. "Do that again."

You did—and something snapped.

His hands shot down to unzip your skirt, and you let him, lifting your hips so he could drag it off and toss it somewhere on your floor, leaving you in nothing but lace panties. Bare thighs. Wet as hell.

He didn't even strip off his shirt, still fully clothed—his mouth just went right back to you, trailing down your chest with a reverent slowness that made your pulse jackhammer. You felt his lips, his tongue, worshipping every inch like it meant something, while little groans and moans escaped his lips as you rode him over his pants.

His lips were swollen, your skin flushed, legs wrapped around him as he rolled his hips into yours, pressing you harder against his thick cock. His hands moved over your body like he owned it—confident, thorough, maddeningly slow.

And every time you thought you had control, he took it back.

Faster.

Rougher.

More deliberate.

His grip bruised. His tongue fucked into your mouth like he was chasing a high. Your panties were soaked, clinging to your folds, and your clit throbbed with every subtle shift of your hips against him. You didn't even care how obvious it was.

You wanted him. All of him.

Every time you rocked down onto the thick bulge in his pants, you could feel the friction spark—sharp, maddening, electric. The tension inside you built in waves, tightening with each grind, pressure curling low in your belly, spiraling toward something reckless.

You were right on the edge, strung so tight you felt like you'd snap if he so much as exhaled too close.

And the worst part? He was trying to keep quiet.

You could feel him trying—holding back. Swallowing grunts. Burying moans against your skin.

But they kept slipping out.

Low, desperate sounds tearing from his throat with each drag of your body against his cock. His breath caught every time you moved—hitching, stuttering, wrecked. You could feel it vibrate in his chest, in his mouth, in the fists he clenched on your hips like he was trying not to beg.

Oh you could only imagine he was a loud fucker.

Those sounds were unraveling you faster than anything else.

And still you kept grinding. Kept chasing the friction.

You were dizzy with it. Hot and wet and aching. So close you could barely breathe.

"Don't stop," you whispered—your voice low, needy. "Just... don't stop."

He froze.

Just for a beat.

Just long enough to make your heart lurch.

Then he leaned in, lips ghosting over your throat, collarbone, jawline.

"Oh, I'm not stopping right now," he said, voice rough like a sin. "I'm just choosing when."

You scoffed, tried to grind again—but his grip locked you down, holding you in place like you weighed nothing.

"God, you're..." He cut himself off with a ragged breath as his fingers slipped under the waistband of your panties—just barely. Teasing. "Didn't know you were this fucking greedy."

"I'm not," you argued. "But you are. You're so—fuck—you're cocky."

He laughed—quiet and mean—and you felt it echo through his mouth as it dragged over your bare tits again, tongue leaving wet, hot trails.

"If I keep going..." he murmured, lips ghosting over one aching nipple, "...I'm not going to stop."

You looked down at him, lips parted, chest heaving. "That's not a problem."

But he just stared at you—hungry, calculating. Controlled to a fucking fault.

"You're paying me to tutor you," he said.

Calm. Dangerous.

Like a warning—or like a reminder.

To you.

To himself.

Maybe both.

"And you think this is a game."

Your stomach flipped.

You didn't know if it was the way he said it—so calm and knowing—or the fact that he was absolutely right.

And then he leaned close, mouth brushing your ear, breath hot and voice fucking lethal.

"I'm not going to fuck you just because you're good at pretending you want me."

Your whole body locked.

Then his hand slid up between your legs, pressing against your clit—hard enough to make your spine curve, but still not enough to finish you.

"I'm going to make you mean it."

You moaned, hips bucking—but before you could chase it, he was already pulling away. Already lifting you off him.

Gone.

Just like that, the warmth of him was gone.

He stood, chest rising and falling, one hand dragging through his hair like he needed air.

The other palmed his cock through his pants—thick, straining—not even trying to hide it.

"I'll see you next Thursday," he said, voice maddeningly even. "For chemistry."

Then he smirked.

And walked out.

Left you half-naked, flushed and aching, sitting on the floor of your room.

Ruined.

Fucking prick.

tags. taglist open! let me know in the comments <3

Next chapter↪

[mattydraws]

Matts Free Messy Brush Pack + Texture Assets for Procreate is now available for download over on my Gumroad storefront: here

This Messy Brush Pack is listed as free/pay what you want - it's important to me that creative tools and resources are financially accessible to those who want to explore and play but can't feasibly do so - if you want to test the brushes out, you can always pay later (but it is not mandatory) if you do want to support my practice!!

What's Included?

x4 of Matts Messy Brushes:

Messy Inky Outline – a light and loose ink brush that can be used for linework, it emulates the build up of ink depending on the pen tilt angle.

Messy Ink Liner – designed to emulate a dry ink texture with grit, feels like your trusty ink pen is almost out of ink.

Messy Inker – great for blocking out shapes and forms, is slightly translucent - can be used as a quick & dirty fill brush.

Messy Pencil – emulates a soft pencil quality that builds up, you use the Inky Outline brush as an eraser to tidy up the rough edges after rendering to your hearts content.

x12 Texture Asset Files:

Texture Assets – a selection of 12 custom texture files, they are all in Grayscale, use them as clipping masks on fill layers or linework, play with the layer filter types and opacity (they're great fun the adjust, my favorite preference is the soft light layer filter at 60% opacity!!) you can erase parts of them using the brushes in this Messy Brush pack to better curate where you want texture to be in your piece, generally are very intuitive to work with!!

I am currently hard at work developing + revising what will be a larger brush pack for Procreate - currently at 60+ brushes in counting - custom brush stamp shapes, grains etc. This future brush pack will be appropriately priced and be released alongside a condensed version of the pack, so customers who are low-income can still partake and play with some fun brushes. Thank you for your support and enjoy these free tools + assets!! If you would like to stay updated with my work, you can find me over on: instagram | bluesky | twitter | patreon | linkedin *ੈ✩‧₊˚

[keraiiszn]

ʜᴏᴛ, ʙᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴇᴅ

ʀɪᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜱᴍᴀᴜ(ʀɪᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴛ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀ ʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ)

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

instagram . yourusername

📍Cabo San Chaos, Mexico

liked by christophershit, nailsbydejaaa, unclechucklol and 13,076,867 others

Vacation count: – fell off a jet ski (blame him) – got kicked out of couples massage for "light moaning" (him) – arrested by room service for nudity (me) – still would do it all over again with my felony 🧡 @christophershit

view all 4,612 comments

@bbysharice: girl he looked like he was about to eat you AND the massage table 💀💦 ↳ @yourusername: I was scared and aroused ↳ @christophershit: table got lucky

@tattedtia: THE HAND ON THE NECK PIC GOT ME PREGNANT ↳ @yourusername: twins or triplets? ↳ @tattedtia: triplets. one’s yours

@maniimami: you fell off the jet ski but landed in love 😭 ↳ @yourusername: and the water. mostly the water. ↳ @christophershit: I saved her. barely. she dramatic.

@ohyoufancybih: room service saw your whole future ↳ @yourusername: and I tipped them $40 to forget 💋 ↳ @christophershit: I tipped them $100 to mind their business

@unclechucklol: y’all got arrested on vacation and came out more in love. disgusting. ↳ @yourusername: it’s the shared trauma ↳ @christophershit: trauma & toes out. we healed.

@officialgoodgirllilly: girl blink twice if you need help. this looks... dangerous. ↳ @yourusername: I did blink. he said "do it again" and kissed me ↳ @christophershit: you blinkin’ too sexy, that’s not my fault

instagram . christophershit

📍Somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be

liked by yourusername, unclechucklol, maniimami, tattedtia and 15,076,867 others

she smiled at the sun like I ain’t already burning for her. don’t DM me. don’t like this if you know her. and don’t speak to her unless you tryna pay a dental bill.

view all 3,612 comments

@unclechucklol: “don’t DM me” like you not posting her like a straight-up R&B album cover ↳ @christophershit: it is an album. I’m the only feature.

@yourusername: every slide is just you being dangerously obsessed and I live for it ↳ @christophershit: obsessed? yeah. ↳ @yourusername: y’all see this??? he be soft in the captions and then chokes me for breathing wrong.

@maniimami: you really threatened the public and called it love 😭 ↳ @christophershit: as I should. ↳ @bbysharice: I’m just glad y’all used SPF

@tattedtia: slide 3 got me texting people I blocked in 2020 ↳ @christophershit: unblock me then ↳ @yourusername: CHRIS—

@nailsbydejaaa: “don’t ask what happened after this” we KNOW what happened after that sir ↳ @christophershit: the patio ain’t been the same ↳ @yourusername: this man has NO filter. none. zero.

@ohyoufancybih: idk who’s more feral. you or her ↳ @christophershit: her. respectfully. ↳ @yourusername: 🙋🏾‍♀️ certified menace in a bikini

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ

@queenofklonnie22, @plan3tch1ld, @vintigepimpzinio, @tnychellee, @nanamiismine, @lizbehave

[furbyfashionistas]

i'm making a zine about furby fashion!

inspired by the stylish furby (jpn) (eng) magazine that was released by tomy in 1999, but this time featuring the energy of what the modern furby fandom has become in 2025 (anarchic/queer/DIY/subversive/surreal/filtered through several layers of internet brain).

you can let me know if you're interested in contributing here! i'll do my best to reply to everyone ASAP, deadline for this volume is March 1st, but if there's enough interest i may publish more in the future?

also i do most of my Furbyposting on my instagram if you wanna follow me there.

please note that this is for artists 18 & over, just because i want to be wary of different legislation around collecting & sharing folks' information - but you can always make your own zine!

[insidekatmind]

Christmas sweater- Jude Bellingham

The sun was filtering through the large windows of your bedroom, softly illuminating every corner of the room. The suitcase was open on the bed, with clothes scattered everywhere. Warm sweaters, jeans, shoes and, at the center of everything, the undisputed protagonist: the red Christmas sweater with white reindeer and the nose of Rudolf that lit up if you pressed a button.

"Love, you don’t have to, really," said Jude with a heavy laugh as he approached your back. His strong arms wrapped gently around your waist, and his chin rested on your shoulder. "I can’t wear that thing in public, you can’t do this to me."

You turned to look him in the eye, already finding him with that smile of someone who knows he won’t win the argument but wants to try anyway. "Jude Bellingham, the great football champion, is he afraid of a sweater?" you asked with a provocative grin.

"It’s not fear, it’s dignity," he replied, pretending to be serious as he gave you a funny look. "I’m happy to be the center of attention on the field, I don’t want to be in your house!"

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. "My mother loves Christmas sweaters. And do you know who she loves more? His future son-in-law, who dresses up for Christmas. So if you want your mother-in-law to make you her famous chocolate cake, you will wear this sweater with pride."

Jude sighed, shaking his head with a resigned smile. "It is not right to use food as a weapon."

He turned you gently and took your face in his hands, looking at you with that mixture of tenderness and fun that only he knew to have. "You’re impossible, you know?" he muttered in a low and sweet voice. Then, without giving you time to answer, he kissed you with infinite sweetness. His soft lips rested on yours, slow and delicate, as if he wanted to imprint that moment in his mind.

When he broke away from you, he stood a few inches away, eyes looking at you with affection. "All right, I give up. I’ll wear the sweater. But I want the cake, and I want a lot of it."

You laughed, letting yourself be embraced again by his. "I knew you would give in. No one can resist my mother’s cake."

You began to pack your bags together, carefully folding your clothes and choosing the right clothes for the days you would be spending in Birmingham. You were excited to see your family again and show Jude the places where you grew up.

"I can’t wait to show you the square where I used to go every winter as a child," you said as you folded a red dress. "And I’ll take you to eat the best fish and chips in town. I’m warning you, I don’t accept criticism about food."

Jude laughed, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at you with a loving look. "I already know you’ll make me fall in love with those fish and chips, just like you did with me."

You felt a sweet heat spread in your chest and stopped for a moment to look at it. "You’re getting too romantic, Bellingham."

"Your fault," he replied with a playful grin. "You have ruined my plan to be a tough and unapproachable guy."

"You were never tough and unapproachable," you replied laughing. "You were always sweet. Even when you pretended to be serious, your eyes could read."

He shrugged. "Maybe you’re right. But only with you."

He threw a pillow at you and your laughter filled the room. The rest of the morning passed in a cloud of chatter, stolen kisses and small moments of sweetness. When you finally closed the suitcases, Jude came up and took the two handles, lifting them easily.

"Ready for Baverly hills," he announced in a TV host’s tone. "And with the world’s most ridiculous sweater in my luggage."

"The most adorable man in the world," you corrected, taking his hand and weaving your fingers to his. "And you know I’m gonna be the one who decides what pictures we put on Instagram, so be a good boy."

Jude made an exaggerated grimace but then smiled. "You are a formidable opponent."

"I’m your fiancée, Bellingham. You’d better remember that," you said with a wink.

The trip to Baverly Hills promised to be filled with love, laughter and, of course, some photos with the most talked about Christmas sweater of the year.

[sunrizef1]

Baby baby

Pairing: dad!kylian mbappe x leclerc!mom!reader

Warnings: none

Authors note: just did instagram posts in this one

Pt 2

———————————————————————

ynmbappe

liked by kylianmbappe charles_leclerc and 608,998 others

ynmbappe parents night out

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user1 they’re so adorable

user2 where’s the baby?

user3 ik having a single date without their kid hit different

user4 no baby leclerc?

charles_leclerc yes and I’m such a great babysitter, you’re welcome

ynmbappe thank you cha

charles_leclerc 🤗

user5 have they revealed the kids name yet?

user6 no they’ve just been calling him baby mbappe

user7 kylian genuinely looks crazy in the last picture

ynmbappe and that’s after I had to put a bunch of filters on it so he looked even less crazy

arthur_leclerc gross, keep it off the tl

ynmbappe get out of my comments

ynmbappe or your baby-sitting privileges are revoked

arthur_leclerc I take it back 🙏

user8 the future of Real Madrid right there

kylianmbappe mon fille ❤️

ynmbappe mon mari ❤️

user9 they’re so in love it’s so cute

————————————————————

ynmbappe

liked by arthurleclerc leomessi and 783,008 others

ynmbappe j’adore paris 💙🤍❤️

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user10 i love them

user11 kylian with baby mbappe was so cute

user12 the outfit is giving

kylianmbappe je t’aime ❤️

liked by ynmbappe

user13 I don’t even like psg but I’ll cheer for them just because of y/n

user14 never thought being a Ferrari fan would get me to cheer for psg but here we are

arthur_leclerc baby leclerc

ynmbappe baby mbappe

arthur_leclerc keep telling yourself that

ynmbappe that is my child

arthur_leclerc and?

user15 the baby nickname beef is genuinely so funny

charles_leclerc baby leclerc ❤️

ynmbappe oh my god not you too

user16 it’s so cute how kylian and the leclercs comment on all of her posts

user17 kylian hat-trick incoming

user18 when kylian walked out with baby mbappe ❤️❤️❤️

user19 baby mbappe 🥰

———————————————————————

ynmbappe

liked by kylianmbappe landonorris and 860,998 others

ynmbappe a much needed vacation

load comments…

user20 oh she’s so fine

user22 the superior leclerc sibling

lorenzotl where yo clothes at

ynmbappe leave

lorenzotl 🙏

user23 Lorenzo 😭

kylianmbappe ❤️❤️❤️

ynmbappe ❤️❤️❤️

user24 kylian with baby mbappe is adorable

user25 where’s the Charles comment

charles_leclerc vacation from what? Being a wag?

ynmbappe a vacation from your annoying ass

arthur_leclerc ooooooh she got you

ynmbappe ur also very annoying

arthur_leclerc ☹️

user26 ooh the girls are fighting in the comments

user27 where’d they go?

————————————————————————————

ynmbappe

liked by paulpogba pierregasly and 605,008 others

ynmbappe viva la France

load comments…

user28 prepared for a Charles breakdown

charles_leclerc NO

charles_leclerc I spend so much time telling everyone we are not French and I did not waste all my breath just for you to turn around and embrace the French nationality

charles_leclerc I will not have this

charles_leclerc viva la MONACO***

charles_leclerc 🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨

user29 Charles oh my god 😭

user30 she didn’t even say anything about being French 😭😭😭

arthur_leclerc yasss we love the French

liked by ynmbappe

user31 Arthur 😭

user32 the difference between Arthur and Charles I’m screaming

lorenzotl you went to a national match and did not invite me?

ynmbappe don’t you have a job

lorenzotl 🤷‍♂️

user33 Lorenzo choosing not to engage in the nationality conversation

user34 where’s kylian

kylianmbappe mes filles francaise ❤️

charles_leclerc WRONG

ynmbappe leave my husband alone you loser

kylianmbappe it’s okay ange, at least I win things

charles_leclerc I don’t like you

kylianmbappe 🤗

user35 the Charles kylian beef is my favorite thing

user36 I love kylian antagonizing Charles

user37 no one’s talking about how pretty she is

———————————————————————————

ynmbappe

liked by charles_leclerc kylianmbappe and 1,008,997 others

ynmbappe uncle Cha is coming for dadas job

load comments…

user38 prepared for more kylian Charles beef

user39 I just want to see a Charles vs kylian football match please

user40 Charles with baby mbappe 🥰

charles_leclerc “dada” what are you doing

ynmbappe that baby can’t talk yet tf do you want me to say

arthur_leclerc you just referred to your husband as “dada”

ynmbappe I obviously didn’t call him that myself you idiot

ynmbappe I was saying it as if I was talking to a literal baby

ynmbappe I’m pretty good at it since I get a lot of practice while trying to talk to you

arthur_leclerc woah now

user41 Charles immediately starting a fight because of the French post

user42 y/n’s responses 😭

user43 😍😍😍

kylianmbappe I might have some competition 😅

ynmbappe he can barely walk straight, trust me, you’re cool

charles_leclerc what the hell

ynmbappe don’t curse on my post, there’s children here

charles_leclerc you curse at me in your comments all the time???!!! The only child here is a baby who can’t even read btw

ynmbappe don’t talk about Arthur like that

arthur_leclerc again, what the hell

user44 the beef is insane in this comment section

kylianmbappe I guess he is not that bad

charles_leclerc thanks man

kylianmbappe👍

charles_leclerc still like your kid more than you

kylianmbappe 🤷‍♂️

kylianmbappe love you mon amour ❤️

ynmbappe love you too ky ❤️

————————————————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[kpeanuts]

@tadc-funfair-au's Pomctober/Pomni Inktober Day 5 - @sm-baby's Carnival AU

WALL OF TEXT INCOMING

Hands down, no competition, my favorite AU to read and learn about as it unfolds. On the other hand, this might be the one that I am least proud of after drawing. I know I said that I'd come out swinging for Day 5, but I legitimately couldn't find the vision. I feel like I made so, so many mistakes just on this one alone. Ignoring the practical mistakes for a second, for some reason, I had such a hard time thinking on what I wanted to have as the setting. I thought of using Pomni's tent with her on the dive-board or on a pedestal you see the ringmaster standing on, then I thought in the bedroom hallway, and even after sleeping on it I still couldn't get it right. Eventually I just decided to draw sentient Pomni outside of Kinger's throne room (at least I'm pretty sure Kinger would have an ornate entryway to his room, idk). I'm absolutely terrible at drawing environments, interior or otherwise, only reason why I thought Day 3's background looked remotely good was because I was able to use the horror aspect of it to cover it up, but Carnival doesn't have the same attributes to use as a veil. But it's whatever, I can't bring myself to touch the file further since I know that it's just going to get worse.

I'm going to skip over Day 6 completely for two reasons: One, refresh my mind in terms of drawing TADC and do research for Day 7. Two, I don't feel like logging into Instagram (or twitter, which means that I'm going to skip over Day 10 as well).

Now, while I am going to stop drawing TADC and Pomctober for tomorrow, I've found another Inktober prompt list, Goretober. So I'm going to just do a few drawings for that one and warning people in advance that do not wish to see that kind of stuff: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY, GO SET YOUR FILTERED TAGS TO INCLUDE "cw: guro", "cw: blood", "cw: death" AND/OR "cw: gore"! I'll be including the Violence content label but this is just for good measure.

With that, finally, I'm done with the usual ranting. Again, I'm going to be posting a few very violent and bloody sketches for Goretober later on, so go filter out the tags I listed above by going to "Settings" > "Account" > "Content you see" > "Filtered Tags". Those posts won't be showing up often, and I might make an entirely separate blog in the future just to make sure that my usual content isn't mixed in with the mature. I shall leave you with that warning, and safe travels!

[bullet-prooflove]

Texas: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @mckinleysbones @totalstitchlover19 @angelofthetrenchcoats

Prequel piece to:

Box Breathing - Eddie's been struggling since Christopher left.

Always - You make a promise to Eddie.

Real - Eddie tells you he wants something real.

A Future With You - Eddie makes a realisation during a one on one game of basketball.

Cash - Eddie discovers your secret Instagram profile.

Snake - You receieve a surprise gift from your ex at Halloween.

Midnight - Eddie makes you a promise.

Cherry Lipstick - Eddie gets better insight into you during a social event.

Bang - Eddie's new year starts with a bang.

Lifetime (NSFW) - One night with you makes Eddie realise he wants a life time.

El Paso - Eddie is forced to make a decision that hurts you both.

Possibilities - Eddie thinks about what might have been.

Welcome Back - Eddie discovers the reason you've been out of contact.

Home - Eddie lays eyes on you for the first time in six months.

The first time Eddie lays eyes on you is at the campaign fire in Texas. His team have travelled up from LA along with a dozen others to help out with a wildfire that’s been burning for weeks.

He barely has boots on the ground when the your crew switches out with another and there you are, an angel amidst the flames of hell.

The scent of woodsmoke and ash cling to your skin as you stand before him in your turnout coat, soot smeared across your cheek. You pull off your helmet and the loose strands from your braid fall across your features as you rub the back of your hand across your brow to chase away the sweat from the blaze you’ve been battling.

He's staring, he knows he is but he just can’t help himself because no one has ever looked as good in the uniform as you do, especially when you strip out of that turnout coat, the one with Lopez written across the back.

Your grey t-shirt clings to you in a way that should be criminal, tucked into standard issue trousers that should not look as good on you as they do.

He picks up one of the water bottles from the refreshment table, handing it to you wordlessly. You take it from him and drinking from it greedily before you set it down alongside your jacket.

“Selena.” You say as you stick your hand out to shake his. “Selena Lopez with the 115.”

“Eddie Diaz.” He says taking your hand in his, surprised by the strength in your grip. “118.”

“Well stay safe Eddie Diaz.” You say, jerking your thumb at the inferno that rages in the distance behind you. “Mother nature is sure being one hell of a bitch tonight.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you filter past him towards the designated campground, not until Buck clasps his shoulder telling him they need to get to the command tent for assignment allocations.

“You ok man?” His friend asks as he steers him in the right direction. “You’re kind of spacing out.”

I think I’ve just met the love of my life, he wants to say but he doesn’t because Eddie, he’s not the type of man to believe in love at first sight.

“Yea.” He says turning his attention to the task at hand. “Let’s go fight a fire.”

Love Eddie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won't be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[holistic-girlhood]

1. Pinterest 📌

Your go-to inspo board for literally everything—whether it’s dreamy outfit ideas, aesthetic home decor, or that perfect DIY Sunday project. Just pin it, babe!

2. Shuffles by Pinterest 🎨

A mood board lover’s dream! Think Pinterest, but way cuter and more aesthetic—perfect for creating those vibey collages and manifesting your dream life in style.

3. Think Dirty 🧴

Wanna know if your skincare routine is actually clean? This app lets you scan beauty products and find out if they’re truly non-toxic or just faking it. Because healthy skin is always in!

4. YouCam Makeup 💄

Try on all the beauty looks without ever touching a makeup brush. From bold lips to fluttery lashes, this app lets you play around and find your next slay-worthy look.

5. FaceApp 😍

Because who doesn’t love a good glow-up? Enhance your selfies with flawless filters and cute edits that keep you looking fresh and fabulous with zero effort. And yes, gendee swap.

6. AI Mirror 🪞

Step into the future with AI-powered beauty edits that give your photos a little extra sparkle. Whether it’s face shaping or cute art filters, this app has your back.

7. DeepFace 🤳

For when you wanna play around with your look or see what you’d look like with different features—kinda fun, kinda mind-blowing, and totally addictive. HRT Future-Self? Check.

8. Peachy 🍑

Smooth, sculpt, and enhance your selfies like a pro! Perfect for those “I woke up like this” moments with just a little extra magic. Great for manifesting fitness goals.

9. Headspace 🧘‍♀️

Mental wellness but make it cute. Meditation, mindfulness, and sleep sounds that help you stay chill and balanced—because stress is so last season.

10. MyFitnessPal 🥗

Whether you’re tracking your macros or just trying to hit your hydration goals, this app is like your personal health BFF, cheering you on every step of the way.

11. Bumble 🐝

Dating, networking, and making friends—because girls make the first move, always. Whether you’re looking for love or new connections, Bumble’s got you covered.

12. Grindr 🌈

This app is the ultimate go-to for making connections and finding your people. Keep it flirty, fun, and fabulous!

13. Notion 📖

Your life’s personal assistant in app form. From planning your goals to organizing your aesthetic workspace, Notion is where productivity meets perfection.

14. YNAB (You Need A Budget) 💸

Because being financially savvy is so chic. Track your spending, plan your goals, and stay in control of your money—hello, future boss babe energy!

15. IMDb 🎬

Never miss a pop culture moment again! Stay in the know with the latest movie and TV tea, celeb news, and must-watch recommendations.

16. Netflix 🍿

Binge-watch your fave shows, discover new obsessions, and chill in style—because self-care sometimes means a glass of rosé and a really good series.

17. Spotify 🎧

Your life needs a soundtrack, babe. Whether it’s a workout jam, chill vibes, or your fave throwback hits, Spotify’s got the playlist for every mood.

18. Home Design 3D 🏡

Time to channel your inner interior designer! Visualize your dream space and play around with layouts and decor—all without lifting a paintbrush.

19. Cozi Family Organizer 🗂️

Perfect for keeping your life (and maybe your squad’s lives) totally together. From grocery lists to schedules, it’s organization with a side of chic.

20. Tasty 🍳

Quick, easy, and insanely delicious recipes at your fingertips. Whether you’re cooking for yourself, your man or hosting your besties, Tasty makes you look like a kitchen queen.

21. Airbnb ✈️

Weekend getaway? Girls’ trip? Solo adventure? Find the most aesthetic stays and experiences that are so worth the Instagram post.

22. Co–Star ✨

Your daily astrology fix with some seriously spot-on insights into your personality, relationships, and life path. Warning: It might read you for filth, but you’ll love it.

23. My Moon Phase 🌙

Stay in sync with the moon’s energy and plan your life around the lunar cycle. Perfect for when you wanna manifest, release, or just vibe with the universe.

[elainarcheronweek]

Elain Archeron Week 2025🌸🌹🪻🌷🌻

Welcome to Elain's Garden Club! 🌹🌸🌻🌷🪻

We are so excited to be back for another year and cannot wait to celebrate our favourite flower fairy! Below you'll find the rules and guidelines for the week as well as details of our prompts. 🌸

Please tag this account - @elainarcheronweek - when posting your art, fics, and theories, etc., so that we don't miss anything and use the #elainarcheronweek2025 hashtag.

Find us on Instagram.

Rules:

Disclaimer: We do not control or forbid anyone from participating in this week; however, we are doing our best to ensure this event is a safe and positive space. To achieve this, these rules serve as conditions for contributions to be reposted, shared, or accepted as a collaboration.

🌸 We ask that you do not use Al. We try our best to avoid resharing AI, but if something does get through, please send us a message or ask so we can address it.

🌸 Please properly tag all ship-related posts and use available filtering systems to block content you do not wish to see.

🌸 If you share something that is missed, please know that this was an accident. Tumblr’s tagging system is faulty at best, and even direct tagging doesn’t always work. We also had issues with posts randomly un-collaborating on insta unprompted last year. Try retagging us or send us an ask with the link and we’ll reblog it asap. To resend a collab invite on insta once posted, using desktop is required.

🌸 This is an Elain-positive event. No anti-Elain sentiments in content or captions will be accepted.

🌸 Most importantly, we ask that we all engage with each other with kindness and respect.

Thank you, and please do not hesitate to reach out if you have any questions

View prompts below the break.

🎨: humming_leaff (IG) | Comm: lazydaisyreads (IG)

Prompts:

From The Same Soil: Much like different plants growing in the same garden bed, Elain shares origins, similarities, and connections with many of those around her. Their roots intertwine, much like their destinies, but still blossom into uniquely different journeys, personalitities, and individual growth. Use this prompt to explore Elain's meaningful relationships or connections you make between her and others.

🎨: star.speckle (IG) | Comm: cassianfanclub (IG)

Seeds Planted: There is no doubt that SJM started laying the foundation for Elain's story long ago - leaving breadcrumbs and planting seeds. This prompt is for the many amazing theories for Elain's future journey, and how they have been set up.

🎨: jadedbugart (IG)

Sunrays: A nod to her own namesake, Elain embodies the light and warmth of sunshine. This prompt is dedicated to everything beautiful about her character - from her radiance, kindness, and ability to maintain hope, to her witty quips and surprising humor.

🎨: pinkykei.art (IG) | Comm: morgansecretgarden (IG)

In Full Bloom: Elain's potential is limitless. We can't help but wonder how she will come into her full self and what it will look like when she defies all expectations. This prompt embodies Elain's flourishing transformation. Use this prompt to highlight Elain embracing her full power, identity, and agency.

🎨: artby.amara (IG)

Secret Garden: Elain's guarded nature is reflected in her hidden feelings and desires; and her heart, much like a walled garden, is not easily accessed. To be invited in is to be granted something rare and sacred. Use this prompt to explore more romantically themed ideas. How would her love bloom? And with whom?

🎨: aseriaart (IG) | Comm: oceanfairym (IG)

Nightshade's Kiss: While beautiful and alluring, Elain has also proven to be deadly. She possesses hidden depths and lethality. Much like the flower, Nightshade's Kiss, our Kingslayer is dangerously underestimated. This prompt is for Elain's darker side.

🎨: biloart (IG) | Comm: elain_kingslayer (IG)

Free Day: Anything and everything you did not get to post for any of the other prompts!!!

🎨: morwenaert (IG) | Comm: bookish.biologist (IG)

[andy-15-07]

Hiiiii

Can we have some hc for Joaquin Torres for when the reader is pregnant and what he's like as a dad

And how he reacts to his kid(s) groe up and ve independent, dating, college etc

Soaring Through Parenthood & Beyond

PAIRING: Joaquin Torres x Reader 💋

WORD COUNT: 334 ✍️

REQUESTS: Open! 💌 (send yours my way — I love writing them all!)

🌟 Danny Ramirez Masterlist 🌟

🌙✨ Pregnancy Moodboard ✨🌙

the way he whispers “I love you” to your bump at 3 AM bonus points: soft Spanish lullabies hummed into your skin so both of you can fall asleep wrapped in warmth.

late-night Target runs for your weirdest cravings—pickle-and-peanut-butter sandwiches? he’s there with two in a paper bag and a goofy grin.

Instagram story content king

clip of him feeling baby kick: “🚨 FIRST KICK 🚨”

snap of him testing every single onesie: “Which one?”

poll: Potty-training tips: YES / HELL NO

pregnancy yoga together on the living-room rug, his forearms as your balance-point. you wobble, he catches you—always.

digital ultrasound frame on his bedside table, with a heart-shaped LED light softly pulsing beside it.

👶🏻💭 Daddy Torres Classics 💭👶🏻

first diaper change

internal monologue: “Why is this… so complicated? Wait—wipes go here?”

triumphant face-plant “Got it!!”

bedtime story binges

turns every character into a tiny future pilot (they all get “wrench + jetpack” cameos)

ends with: “And then the brave little flyer saved the world—just like Mommy and Daddy.”

teach-‘em-young flight lessons on the swing in the park: “Feel the breeze, kiddo—this is freedom.”

#DadJokes for days

toddler: “Daddy, why?”

him, deadpan: “Because ‘why not’ was already taken.”

11 PM dance parties in the kitchen with baby strapped in a carrier—“FIESTA!” he yells, spins you both to Reggaetón.

first day of preschool photo shoot so extra it rains confetti and he’s there in a matching “Team Torres ” tee,proudly cheering on his little co‑pilot.

🎓🌱 Watching Them Grow 🌱🎓

college-application care package

homemade empanadas

“Don’t stress” mixtape on a USB shaped like a jet

letter: “You’ve got wings—go fly.”

text thread surviving teen angst

Kid: “I hate my life.”

Joaquin: “Life’s better with churros. 🚀”

snap of churros at the door.

first “I’m dating someone” convo

him, pretending casual: “Oh? A partner? What’s their GPA?”

them: “Seriously, Dad?”

him, 0.2 s later: “Just kidding—treat them well or I’ll throttle them.”

blue-light-filter FaceTime at 2 AM when they’re homesick:

he reads them a made-up bedtime story

they both end up laughing

“Miss you, kiddo.”

wedding day cameo

proud-as-hell dad dance moves on the floor

tears behind aviators as he toasts: “To my copilots—always go full throttle.”

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Yonah Elias

Well, well, well.

Look who’s waddling into the dustbin of history, wearing a €700 Gucci belt and a smug little smirk: Europe—that pompous, wine-bloated has-been of a continent that used to dominate the globe and now can’t even dominate a kebab shop in Malmö.

Once you ruled the seas. Now you’re ruled by street gangs who think Beethoven is a kind of goat cheese.

Let’s be real: Europe colonized the world for spices and now needs a safe space because someone brought too much cumin to the lunchroom. You used to draw maps. Now you can’t even draw a border without crying about “inclusivity.”

Welcome to Postmodern Al-Andalus: Now with Free WiFi and Gender-Neutral Ablution Stations

Let’s look ahead. Here’s a brief preview of your glorious future:

• 2029, France: The Louvre is now the “Museum of Islamic Contributions to French Surrender.” The Mona Lisa wears a niqab. She’s still smirking. You still can’t arrest her attacker—he claimed PTSD from colonial trauma.

• 2032, Sweden: Stockholm’s Pride Parade is banned for cultural sensitivity. Replaced by the “Annual March Against Zionist Infidels and Climate Offenders.” Sponsored by IKEA and Al Jazeera+.

• 2034, Germany: Oktoberfest becomes “Oktobarakah”: alcohol-free, meat-free, joke-free. The only thing that gets high is the number of social workers needed per family. Lederhosen outlawed as “cultural violence.”

• 2036, UK: Buckingham Palace is now the “London Ummah Center for Heritage Reparations and Dhimmitude Studies.” King Charles is rebranded as Emir Charles the Apologetic. His royal motto? “Inshallah and Carry On.”

• 2040, Brussels: The European Parliament finally votes to dissolve itself after accidentally misgendering a halal baguette. The final vote is 751-0. Applause breaks out. Then mass arrests for the applause—clapping is now microaggression.

Oh Europe, You Decaying Artisan Cheese Platter

You held the Renaissance, birthed the Enlightenment, and now you’re being lectured on “civil rights” by guys who think marrying nine-year-olds is progressive. You once sent explorers across oceans. Now your idea of bravery is asking if bacon can be served in school without triggering a hate crime tribunal.

Your leaders wear scarves of surrender. Your intellectuals write love poems to the hijab. Your citizens get stabbed on trams and light candles as a response. It’s not a society anymore—it’s a death cult with Instagram filters and a strong emphasis on recycling.