#as always keep safe and stay hydrated!!!

[inkykeiji]

Oh my goshhh Clariiiiii you’re going to give me squishmallow fever again ahhh I already have more than 20 of those baby’s I can’t anymoree they’re so dam cuteeeeeeee eeeeee 🤭🥺🥹💖

HEHEHEHEHE Ψ( ｀▽´ )Ψ they really are sooo cute and so soft 🥺🥺🥺 i’m so jealous of ur collection tho!!! wow!!!!!

[pup5000-af]

[atsu-i]

.

[neolithicsheep]

I've been meaning to write this down for some time because there are some fundamental errors that people keep making in crowdfunding/sales that shoot their campaigns in the foot. So here's a list of easy principles.

Who am I and why should you listen to me? I am a freelance chaos marketer who has raised well over $100,000 when totaling up various crowdfunding campaigns, mostly for aid to Afghanistan. In addition I've managed to successfully market everything from stuffed plush koalas to hydration salts. Why am I putting this out here for free? Because despite a years long track record of success in social media marketing no one will hire me because I don't have a college degree, so I might as well help people out who can't afford to hire full time marketing. 

If you'd like to hire me to help you evaluate your marketing and sales and teach you better skills on a 1 to 1 basis then hit me up, I am often willing to barter, esp with artists in a variety of mediums! 

Anyway on to HOW TO CONVINCE PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU MONEY:

TL;DR: use positive messaging that humanizes everyone involved and make it as easy as possible for people to give you money.

1. Shame and guilt are demotivators. They will not inspire people to give you money. “Why aren't people helping” “I guess people don't care” “This isn't getting enough shares/donations” etc etc. Online fundraising is often frustrating, heartbreaking, and will make you angry, especially when there's a humanitarian crisis involved. It is critical that if you are raising funds for someone else that you have a place to vent that is not the audience you would like to donate to the cause. 

2. Use motivating messages instead! “You can help!” “Even a small donation is important because it tells Recipient they're not alone, and people care” “We can't fix the whole world, but we can make this one thing right, and that means something”. Emphasize that this is a problem that the reader can help fix with even a small effort. With items for sale, tell a story. "I drew this thinking about how safe I always felt under a tree in my childhood backyard". "I chose the colors in this shawl to remind me of sagebrush and piñon pine in my favorite place."

3. Make it easy for people to give you money. Never talk about your product or cause without a link that leads directly to where people can give you money. They should be able to click one link on your post and land at the fundraiser or your shop. Every required click is going to lose people, so minimize the number of them required. This also means if you have a list of fundraisers for people to choose from the ones at the bottom will be neglected - people will hit the ones at the top. Be sure to take those off when they're met or periodically shuffle the list around to make sure everyone gets a chance to be in the first 5 spots. In online stores people will often only look at the first page or two of items so be sure to shuffle things around and remove out of stock items that are taking up prime real estate.

4. Humanize the recipient - this can be tricksy when raising charitable aid because you don't want to be exploitative. But to use my last Afghan campaign as an example, “We need to raise $500 for an Afghan family” is less effective than “This Afghan family's home was damaged in heavy rains that caused extensive flooding. They only need $500 to repair and rebuild so they can stay in their home and not become displaced.”  If possible, tell as much of the recipient's story as they consent to. Eg “Fred is seven and loves dinosaurs. His favorite is brontosaurus, and he carries a stuffed one with him everywhere. He wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up and discover a complete brontosaurus skeleton that he can give the same name as his stuffed friend. Unfortunately he's also a trans boy living in Texas and his family needs $1500 to rent a Uhaul and get to Colorado so he can grow up in safety and do that.”

5. If you're not the recipient, humanize yourself while you're at it! “I'd be really grateful if you all could share or donate” “This fundraiser really means a lot to me because…” “Thank you so much for any help, whether sharing or donating” 

6. Treat the audience like humans. Speak to them like they are people you're having a conversation with, not ATMs. This ultimately is the goal of not using shame/guilt and humanizing yourself and the recipient. 

7. Set low goals and bump them up when met. One of the weird things about people is they prefer to give to successful fundraisers. Yeah I don't know either. So you're more likely to get the full amount you need if you set a partial goal initially and then raise it when that's met. Raise it in small increments and raise it repeatedly as those goals are hit to keep momentum going. You can't always control this so if you're boosting someone else's fundraiser you can do it artificially via asks like “Hey y'all can we get together and put $500 on this?”

[thatonefatgumsimp]

Quick life update BTW while I'm here (still working on some art, srr TT TT):

I seem to be really obsessed with bones this morning and idk why-

Like literally this morning I have said two weird, out of context bone statements already. Such as:

"Mmmm see-through bones"

And

"It's 1245 and I have still yet to cleanse my mouth bones"

And ofc, my usual catchphrase when I pop my neck, back, fingers, etc:

"My bones are crunchy"

Idk why, but it happened. So yeah.

[ilyrafe]

𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!

word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)

a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!

it’s almost like a sixth sense.

rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved. 

when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.

“where were you? why did you leave me here?”

he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.

even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.

“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.

his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.

“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.

“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.

he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.

“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”

“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”

is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?

“you can read on the bed.”

“you won’t mind the lamp on?”

“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”

you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.

while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.

every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.

sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.

deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.

being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.

when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.

“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.

“it’s almost four.”

“and you’re going to sleep now?”

“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.

(...)

rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.

your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.

he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).

you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.

“go back to sleep.” he whispers.

“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”

“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.

“i’m okay, rafey.”

rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.

“you’re gonna be tired.”

“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”

rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.

“you have insomnia?”

“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”

you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.

after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.

“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”

“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.

“well, i’m just one call away.”

you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.

silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.

he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.

(...)

only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.

rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?

you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.

impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.

“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”

“what are you doing?”

“i’m studying for my exams.”

“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”

“i’d love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”

“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.

“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.

“y/n, please go to sleep.”

something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.

“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”

before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.

as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.

the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.

he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.

“what are you doing here, rafe?”

“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”

“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”

“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”

“i don’t wanna have sex.”

“i’m not talking about sex.”

oh.

“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”

“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”

you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?

“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”

“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”

it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.

“okay.”

rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.

you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.

the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.

you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.

the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.

“are your parents home?” he asks.

“no, why?”

“so i could have come through the door, huh.”

“yeah.” you laugh.

a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.

rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.

“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.

your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.

thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.

“nothin’. close your eyes.”

you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer. 

why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.

that tried to drown his own sister.

why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?

probably.

(...)

as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.

when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.

the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.

when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.

he didn’t leave?

it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.

“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.

“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”

you laugh.

“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”

“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”

you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.

for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[sqtorux]

carsick

ʚɞ summary. [req!] you get carsick easily so how do the jjk boys (yuji, megumi, yuta and toge) help you out?

ʚɞ desc. headcanon, fluff fluff and more fluff.

yuji is the most perfect boyfriend to ever exist i dont make the rules. he knows how easily nauseous you can get so he gets everything ready before the car ride. he makes sure you slept well to be on top of your health and even went out of his way to get you pills that help ease the effects. my boy researched and prepared everything just for you. that's not all though, he uses his strength to his advantage and carries you around effortlessly so that you don't have to walk yourself. you're safe in his arms and you always will be, as long as he's around.

megumi likes to be left alone, mindlessly staring at the view and keeping to himself during car rides but ever since you came into his life and he noticed your uneasy behaviour, he finds himself worrying and pampering over you. he makes sure you get the window seat and that you get enough space to sit however is comfortable, even if that meant you lying down with your head on his lap and groaning every two seconds; the pins and needles on his legs due to the constant weight on them go unnoticable to him.

yuta always chooses walking over smaller distances because he knows how easily carsick you can be. he also loves giving you piggyback rides when your legs get too tired. on longer trips when you can't avoid it though, he looks after you the entire ride. offering his shoulder to sleep on, opening the window to make sure you get enough air and making sure you stay hydrated despite your complaints and snarls because you were queasy. he's so so patient with you.

toge has a little box where he keeps his throat medicine for himself and lots of meds for you including one that would help in easing your nausea. at times when the meds don't work and you're violently puking with your head throbbing, he holds your hair and gently rub circles on your back. if you needed to sit on the side of the street to wait for the motion sickness to pass, he waits with you.

[xazse]

*crunch* *crunch* *crunch* dinner is so tasty z , but... Where is dessert?😏

imagine!! Where Geto goes out to pick some ingredients for dessert because wolfhybrid! satoru and puppygirlhybrid! Reader have been listening and obeying Geto(which he is suspicious of it but doesn't quistion it) so he decides to give them a little reward by making something sweet.

Before geto left to go to the market, he gave the both hybrid's a warning to behave. When geto finally left, (reader) decides to be mischievous again, rubbing herself all over satoru and being very clingy.

Well one thing led to another to the point where the puppy hybrid has satoru spread his legs, shuddering, grunting and his cock covered with whipped cream and sprinkles while (reader) eagerly sucks his cock!

Bottle of whipped cream and a bottle of sprinkles on the floor just in case (reader) wants more.

(love u 💓 💓 don't forget to take breaks and stay hydrated, stay safe!!! ≤3333)

HII I LOVE THIS?? IN FACT I LOVE YOU THANK YOU! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS AND ALSO ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTED MORE WOLF!SATORU X HYBRIDPUPPY!READER

The moment geto came back with the desert groceries and insisted that he needed a nap, he made sure to give you a sharp glare, a warning. He had been watching you and Gojo ever since that day like hawks, he didn’t let you touch Gojo let alone even sometimes be in the same room as you. Lately he hasn’t been too worried you showed remorse for that day and he praised you for how good you’ve been.

It seemed anything worked Gojo up. He got a taste of pleasure and wanted more so badly. Suguru had caught him on multiple occasions exploring his body, he’d stopped it anytime he could without making Satoru embarrassed.

He just couldn’t have a house full of little hybrids running around, he just needed a little time until he could consult with a hybrid specialist to let you and Satoru do your own thing.

He’d been so busy dealing with you two that he had neglected his sleep, bags had begun to grow under his eyes. He needed this and he needed a little hard headed thing like you to actually listen this time. You obediently nodded when he told you that you can have the whole house to yourself expect for his bedroom.

As extra precaution he had Satoru locked up in his room with him whilst he sleeps, Satoru doesn’t mind, it also gives him a little time to rest as well.

It had been a couple of hours and Suguru was still dead asleep, it seemed he really needed this. You’d been listening so far, just browsing the Tv until that had gotten you bored.

You just needed someone to talk to, you’d still listen to Suguru about not having sex with Satoru but you could touch him could you not?

You walk silently on the cold marble floors and make your way to his bedroom, knocking quietly you whisper Satoru’s name, and just like him he comes.

Satoru didn’t like being scolded by Suguru so when you came face to face with him he said he’d only keep you company to watch movies that’s it.

But regardless you’re always gonna get your way with the innocent wolfman.

It doesn’t take you even an hour into the movie to start subtly making moves on him.

“It’s just cuddling Toru, we won’t get in trouble for that.”

If it’s just cuddling why are you licking at him again? If it’s nothing why are you softly biting at his neck? Rubbing the tip of his sensitive tail?

————————

“Taste so sweet Toru”

“Toru” couldn’t function or even speak properly, he’s covering his beet red face with his arms and whining behind them.

His pretty cock is decorated with whipped-cream and blue sprinkles that match his equally pretty eyes.

The whip is melting by the minute so of course you need to clean it up! Getting it on Suguru’s expensive couch just won’t work nor are their any paper towels that could clean this up!

You start low with laving your tongue all around his cock messily, not caring for any particular spot, just trying to lick it all up before it becomes mush.

Satoru doesn’t know why he’s letting you have this much power over him, you’re half his damn size and yet you can do whatever you want and he wouldn’t complain.

He nearly jumps, almost ruining your project when you start sucking the cream off his sensitive balls, the man is howling in being overwhelmed with all these new sensations.

When the sides are all clean you take his hole length in your mouth making sure nothing was left behind, even the sticky residue.

“Nggh- please.. don’t wanna get in troub-“ you use your tongue to tease his slit, poking and prodding at his leaky tip, he can’t last he won’t last, his hips thrust agaisnt the source of pleasure a few times before he’s finally cumming on your face.

His tummy hurts bad from how hard he came, but you haven’t stopped your licking just yet. He tries his hardest to get up but his wobbly legs has him being seated in the same position, this time with your arms locked around his thighs. You aren’t full just yet.

He whimpers and whimpers at you, are all puppygirls this fucking hardheaded? Your tongue starts lapping up all his cum, he thinks it’s dirty, thinks it’s so nasty how you’re just like this.

You let go of one of his thighs to rub at your sodden little clit, he can see everything you’re doing behind his half lidded eyes. He can hear just how wet you are and that makes him groan, groan at how his cock is getting fully hard again.

He begins rubbing your little floppy ears, making sure to rub the sensitive inside part slowly. You’re still licking and sucking at his cock while he does that.

“Toru.. don-stop” you’re panting below him and rubbing your little nub even faster than before.

[many-shades-of-violence]

getting drunk with them I Corazon, Law, Doflamingo, Smoker, Ace, Sabo

✢ content: fluff, suggestive themes, alcohol consumption

✢ characters: Corazon, Law, Doflamingo, Smoker, Ace, Sabo

Corazon is a light-hearted and affectionate drunk. He becomes even more talkative and open when he's had a few drinks.

He's the type to get lost in nostalgic stories of his marine days, or talk about his dreams and aspirations with you and little Law.

He might start singing or humming, and if you join in, he'd be absolutely delighted.

As a caring drunk, he's prone to giving you lots and lots of compliments, reminding you how much you mean to him. He might pull you into his lap or snuggle up to you, searching for the warmth of your body while he rests his head on your shoulder.

Corazon is also likely to pull you into slow, clumsy dances, and you'd both end up laughing as you navigate his tipsy waltz, being careful, so he doesn't trip over his long legs.

Law's usual stoic demeanor takes a backseat when he's drunk. He becomes surprisingly expressive, much more relaxed, and most surprisingly, a lot more handsy.

He tends to lean into his playful and mischievous side, making witty comments and teasing you in a way that only a drunk Law can. If there's strong booze involved, he might even slip a hand along your thighs, giving them a firm yet loving grip.

Law might get a bit sentimental as well, sharing his deeper thoughts and feelings with you, which is a rare sight.

He'd challenge you to drinking games, displaying his competitive streak while still maintaining his cool facade.

If you get too drunk, Law would take on a protective role, ensuring you're safe, comfortable, and well-hydrated.

Doflamingo's already flamboyant and unpredictable personality becomes even more amplified when he's had a few drinks.

He's likely to be the life of the party, engaging you with his charismatic way of talking and flashy dance moves.

Doflamingo's sense of humor gets a bit eccentric and twisted, often sharing dark jokes or anecdotes with a cheeky grin on his lips.

He enjoys being the center of attention, but he'd also make sure to dote on you and show you off to everyone around.

Doffy's already "horny on main," but a drunk Flamingo might be another challenge. He'd never overstep your boundaries, but you might have to reprimand him more than once when you find slim fingers cupping your ass.

Smoker is a quiet and introspective drunk. He tends to sit back and observe the surroundings, lost in thought.

He becomes a bit more sentimental when you're around, often expressing his genuine affection for you and how much he appreciates you in his life.

Smoker might share stories from his past that he normally keeps to himself, allowing you a glimpse into his life before the Marines.

He's not one for grand gestures, but he'll subtly make sure you're comfortable and have everything you need for the night-out.

Smoker's tough exterior softens a bit when he's had a few drinks, and he might even crack a small, rare smile from time to time, especially when you're also a bit tipsy, inviting you to stay over at his place to know you're safe.

Ace is a fun-loving and energetic drunk. He's constantly moving and looking for the next adventure.

He'd likely challenge you to various games or dares, trying to see who can handle their liquor better.

Ace's laugh becomes even more contagious, and he'll find just about anything hilarious, ensuring a good time for the two of you.

He might get a bit touchy-feely, always looking for excuses to wrap his arm around you or hold your hand.

When the night winds down, Ace would be the type to suggest stargazing or a late-night walk, wanting to make the most of your time together.

Sabo is a sweet and affectionate drunk. He becomes incredibly attentive to you, making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself.

He's likely to initiate deep conversations, discussing everything from dreams and ambitions to the meaning of life.

Sabo's protective nature might become more pronounced, and he'd keep a watchful eye on you when you've had one glass too many.

He's a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, so he might get tipsy quickly, leading to a lot of adorable behavior.

[princessbrunette]

can’t stop thinking about all the little ways apocalypse!johnb displays casual dominance.

it’s the little things, like the hand he always seems to have on the back of your neck. it’s gentle most times, standing around the camp together with the warm caress of his palm cupping the tepid skin there, rubbing a thumb along the bottom of your scalp whilst he listens to pope talk about the control tower updates. you like it, it makes you feel held without making a big scene of things. love and pda was a touchy subject now that so many people had lost someone, or were just suffering from loneliness so you didn’t wanna rub it in everyone’s faces that you’d found eachother. the gentle touch keeps you near to him, the way he likes it.

john b just does things for you to help get you ready and speed the day along. something you notice, is the way he’ll lay out an outfit for you on a cold winter morning as you stand there in pyjamas all puffy and half awake, watching in silence as you adapt to being conscious. you’re sure it’s roughly 6AM — but he’s moving around quickly throwing your things together so he can take you out into the woods within the fences and reach you how to shoot. you can tell the visage of sarah’s passing still haunts him, which is why he gets these random trauma fuelled bouts of sudden desperation to teach you to protect yourself, just incase. you pout grumpily because when it was john b who was dressing you, he would never let you dress cute during the literal end of the world. you’d mutter out something about it ‘stifling your creativity’ which he’d ignore as he starts to pull your pyjamas off to help you change. he’d pile warm layers on warm layers that would keep you comfortable in the morning chill which was honestly sweet — given that he was dressing you like a little teddy bear in those fuzzy sweaters, thick jeans and boots that you’d replaced the laces with ribbons. you didn’t really mind, not at all.

aside from this, he doesn’t let you come anywhere that he deems too dangerous — meaning it was rare you ever got to leave the gates to kitty hawk — no matter how often you whined about it. “look, okay — the answer is no. you’re not coming. no way.” he was hard on you because he cares, and felt it was his duty to keep you safe.

when he eventually lets you out with him he’s practically got you on a leash, gripping you by the shoulders and lecturing you if you take a step too far. he mellows out if it really does feel safe, only pulling you back towards him to bring his water bottle to your mouth, mopping you up when some dribbles out. “need to stay hydrated, okay — can’t afford to have you passing out.”

when you stop listening or go into your occasional daydream, john b isn’t afraid to check you. especially if it was important. you’d zoned out while jj stands before the entire camp, briefing all the campers you’d collected on some new weapons that had arrived from a successful supply hunt. he was the weapons master after all, so he really knew his stuff. you knew john b was stood at your side with that same tense look, brow creased and arms folded — but when you begin staring off at the treeline his attention turns to you, unfolding his arms to lightly grip your chin to point it back to the front. “listen up. this is no joke.” he’d warn.

overall, he’s mega patient with you. as you might imagine, you’re always thrilled to see him when he comes home from a long supply hunt or anywhere really that he had to travel to, which sometimes can take up to a week. john b, being the guy he is always has some kind of news to tell the group — so usually he barrels back through the doors immediately talking at everyone with this new information. this of course doesn’t stop you from running to his side and throwing your arms around him. the routledge boys flow state remains unbroken, continuing to ramble at the group as his hand rubs your lower back, letting you cuddle into his side. you knew he’d give you his full attention later on, laying with you quietly talking on the hammocks outside your shared cabin — but for now you didn’t mind. sometimes the casual nonchalance turned you on.

his dominance can shine through in real gentle ways sometimes — your boyfriend squatting down infront of you when you’re sat on the floor of your shared little cabin, cleaning his weapons for him wearing your dirty little white nightgown that you’d scouted on one of your few supply runs. his knees click when they bend and he’s a little tired looking but he smiles big anyway when he brings his backpack to his front, rifling through it until he pulls out a new girly trinket he’d found for you on a trip. you’re unsure as to whether or not he’s talking so gently because he’s exhausted — or because he’s just so sweet on you but he holds your gift up and barely raises his volume to say “hey, got you something. do you like it sweetheart? found it just for you ‘cause you’d been so good this week bubba.”

he often comforts you when you get upset over him returning home with a dead rabbit slung over his shoulders. “okay, oh god — you were not meant to see that.” he deadpans when you catch him in the act — but soon he’s got you scooped up on his lap (with the rabbit cooking outside over a fire) as he rocks you back and forth. “look, we have to eat sweetheart. i swear i didn’t wanna kill that bunny but we don’t have much choice right now. you can close your eyes the whole time. i’m gonna feed it to you. okay?”

of course, some dominance is just far from casual — like when he’d return from a pharmacy run during the week with his pockets stuffed with condoms so he can put your legs over his shoulders and stuff your aching cunt. “i know baby, i know it’s— it’s definitely been a while. haven’t been able to find protection i can trust literally anywhere but i’ve got heaps now, so i can fuck that sweet little pussy the way you want. i know you missed it sweet girl, i know.”

[inkykeiji]

Dabi is here to CHEW ON UR FACE because u are SO CUTE, and he's MAD about it!! (And yes! I live in Canada, the big ol' rectangle 😂😂 easy to draw... hard to spell 🤣🤣)

NOOOOOO HE IS SO CUTE ACTUALLY oh my godddd oh my god oh my god stop it this brought actual tears to my eyes!!! (*ﾉ∀`*) he is absolutely precious i love him so so so much <333 he can chew on my face whenever he wants to (*´ρ｀*)

AH YES!!! okay you are quite far from me i am in ontarioooo

[daisiesinvienna]

daryl being the most protective w fem!reader. maybe reader doubting daryl’s feelings for her & him saying “why wouldn’t i save you?”. reader shaking and daryl putting his hand on the side of her face brushing her cheek with his thumb 🥺

Nexilis

Title: Nexilis

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: You are a wildflower blooming in the midst of death and destruction, a breath of fresh air. Daryl doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you.

Warnings: Swearing

Era: Prison

Authors Note: Nexilis is the latin word for woven together or intertwined. This was meant to be a shorter blurb but dude I could not stop writing. Thank you for the request! <3

Daryl Dixon never liked having his emotions on display for everyone to see.

During his childhood, he learned that expressing emotions led to vulnerability, and vulnerability led to weakness. So, when he was young, he learned how to bottle up his emotions, learned to keep them suppressed so nobody around him knew what he was feeling. As he grew older, It became his second nature. 

When Daryl first met you back in Atlanta, he knew instantly that it would be a struggle to keep up his cold demeanor. He knew he would have to try to keep up the walls he worked so hard to build. Because you were like a breath of fresh air. 

You were the air that filled his lungs, the oxygen he needed to survive. And that terrified him.

The only problem he had with you was that everywhere you went, emotions followed. Not bad emotions, but emotions like joy and hopefulness. Feelings Daryl wasn’t used to. So he tried to keep his distance.

But you, being the beam of sunlight you were, noticed his seemingly sullen personality and made a point of talking to him regularly. He made an attempt at resisting your charm, but it didn’t take long for his carefully built walls to come crashing down. He soon came to realize that a single beam of sunlight could cast away the darkest of shadows.

During your time spent together before and at the prison, you and Daryl grew closer. He often sought you out to ask if you wanted to go on a run with him, and you took pride in knowing you were the only person he’d outright ask to join him. You often asked him questions about himself and whatever other things crossed your mind, seeming genuinely interested in the things he had to say. Daryl wasn’t used to being listened too, to being considered. People would make jokes, feign surprise when one of you was spotted without the other. It was known, the deep bond the two of you had, but it wasn’t pointed out. It was just a fact.

At some point in your relationship, you crossed the imaginary line drawn between friends and something more. Somehow, despite all the horrors that happened everyday in the world, something beautiful emerged. Daryl had no choice but to let you into his heart. 

He’d tried to resist it, but eventually had to just face it. He loved you.

And that scared the shit out of him.

While you showed your love through words and touch, Daryl showed his by keeping you safe. It was the only way he knew how. In a world as unpredictable as this one, he knew that you could be ripped from him in an instant. But he would be damned if he let that happen.

He kept one eye on you all the time, making sure you were eating and staying hydrated. If there was ever an uncertain situation, he was at your side, resting a calloused yet gentle hand on your waist as if you were going to slip away from him. During encounters with other people, people you didn’t know, he was gently moving you behind him. Silently letting you know that he’d guard every hair on your head, that he would do anything to keep you safe.

You always felt safe around Daryl. You always knew that whatever the situation, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. And for that you were eternally grateful.

But eventually you begun to notice how he was never the first to lean in for a kiss, never was the first to initiate contact. You were always the first. You’d told him you loved him multiple times, normally as a goodbye when he leaves for a run or when you go to help Rick with the garden. But you’d never once heard it back. Which you didn’t have a problem with at first. You knew he’d had a difficult childhood, though he didn’t like to talk about it. 

But as the months passed, you started to question his feelings for you. You started to wonder if he felt for you the way you felt for him, if he didn’t show you affection or tell you he loved you just because he didn’t want to.

One cloudy and slightly damp fall morning, while you were out tending to the garden out in the former prison yard, you spotted Daryl heading towards the gate with his crossbow slung over his back, clearly about to head out on a run. Dusting your hands off on your jeans, you make your way across the prison yard to meet him by the gate.

“Morning!” You say, flashing him a smile. You see he hadn’t retrieved his motorcycle from where it sat near the prison tower, so he was planning on heading out by foot. Probably going hunting.

“Mornin’,” He answers stoically. He doesn’t exactly return your smile, but the corners of his mouth turn up a bit.

“You going on a run?” 

“Yeah,” He murmurs in response, going to fiddle with the chain keeping the gate secure.

“Mind if I join?” You ask tentatively, and he looks at you for a moment before responding.

“Alrigh’,” He says gruffly, and you grin. He successfully opens the gate, tossing the chain aside. “You got your gun?” 

You in fact did have your pistol on your hip, and with that, you followed Daryl through the gate and away from the prison. He was just planning on hunting around the nearby woods, hoping a few squirrels or even a deer would cross his path. He knew that everyone at the prison would be grateful for something other than canned vegetables.

Neither of you talked much as you walked through the woods, the only sounds being the leaves crunching under your feet and occasional bird calls. Other than that, a good portion of your walk was spent in dead silence.

Daryl walked a bit ahead of you, glancing back periodically as if he was making sure you were still there. He moved effortlessly and silently through the woods, while you tried your best not to step on every twig you came across and stumbled once or twice.

As you trudge through the woods, you feel your thoughts drifting back to your doubts about your relationship with the broad man walking ahead of you. You didn’t miss how he’d avoided your gaze back at the prison gate, and it had only encouraged your feelings of uncertainty.  Now, as you step over a fallen tree, you wonder why he rarely shows you any affection.

Maybe it was something you’d done. Maybe you’d said something, done something at some point that had made him grow so distant. But as you rack your brain for an instance such as this, you come up with nothing. Or, maybe, he just didn’t care for you as much as you thought. Maybe he kept you around because he felt bad for you. 

You stare at the back of his head, knowing that you should talk to him about it. If you had done something to him, you’d want to know. If he didn’t love you, you would want to know even more. Better to know so you could move on and stop burdening him with feelings he didn’t reciprocate. But you didn’t know how to start such a conversation. So you hear yourself blurt out probably the worst conversation starter of the decade.

“Do you love me?”

He stops walking. You stop a few feet behind him, and he slowly turns to face you. You’re fully prepared for that signature Daryl scowl, but instead he looks shocked. His eyebrows knit together in concern.

“What the hell ‘re you talkin’ about?” He asks, and you stare down at the ground, embarrassed you’d asked such a blunt question.

“I mean- you’re just always so… distant,” You respond quietly, and he sighs. There is a moment of silence, broken only by the trees rustling in the breeze. 

“I know,” He murmurs after a second, and you look up to meet his eyes. “I know, ‘n i’m sorry.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment.

“It’s just-“ He starts, then trails off. You stare at him, waiting. He appears to be having some kind of conflict within himself.

“I’ve never felt like this for anyone before, and it scares the shit outta me,” He says finally, and you meet his eyes, dumbfounded. You can tell that that was difficult for him to say.

“That’s it?” You ask, quietly. He moves closer to you, and to your surprise, cups your cheek in his large, calloused hand and looks into your eyes before speaking again.

“‘M not used to this. Any of it,” He murmurs, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. You lift your hand to rest on his, staring into his blue eyes. “And I know ‘m not good at findin’ ways to tell ya I love ya. But I do, and I need ya to know that. I love ya more than anythin’.”

You nod, feeling relief wash over you at the sound of those three words leaving his mouth. A smile creeps onto your face. He moves his hand from your cheek, using it to tilt your chin up slightly. He takes a moment to rake his eyes across your face, hesitating, before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

He kisses you slowly, deeply, trying to convey the feelings he couldn’t come to terms with to you. You reciprocate, feeling yourself smile into the kiss.

And, as Daryl continues to kiss you amongst the trees, he swears to himself that he is going to make sure you don’t have to ask him that question ever again.

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

Million dollar man

How does your life by his side look like?

General masterlist

Being Aventurine's "Lucky Charm🍀" includes:

🎰 Always staying by his side. If he has to attend business meetings you sit next to him, when he goes to parties with his coworkers you are his plus one, during his gambling sessions you sit on his lap and cheer on him. He is never seen without you.

🎰 If he finds himself in tough situation, Aventurine holds your hand for good luck. It calms him down rather than giving him additional luck (he doesn't care, he has plenty of it already) but it doesn't stop him from calling you his Ladybug, Shooting star or Goldfish. Usually he shortens it to Goldie. He kisses your hand before making his move in games, makes you blow on dice before throwing it or allows you to pick which numbers you bet on.

🎰 Aventurine shares his monetary gains with you with no restrains. "Don't worry about anything, just spend" - that's what he says, letting you know the tab is on him. He is happy to finally be able to take care of those dear to him after being so powerless for years. Providing for you, keeping you safe and well fed makes him feel like he does a good job as a man.

🎰 You are always dressed in the most expensive clothes, not even the ones from high-end fashion brands, he wouldn't like you to accidentally match outfits with any other woman in the room. All your dresses are made for you exclusively, tailored by best fashion designers from the most delicate fabrics.

Your jewelry matches his, gold with aventurine stones. There is one necklace you never take off, golden peacock feather with green stone in place of it's eye. Aventurine gave it to you as a reminder, so you never forget you belong with him.

🎰 He shows you off on every occasion, posts you on social media and proudly introduces you to his work colleagues. Because of that you sometimes assume that he invest so much into your looks, cosmetics and clothes just because he wants to flaunt his wealth, but this couldn't be further from truth. While he enjoyed jealous looks from another men he pampered you solely for his own viewing pleasure. He would never choose a woman based on what others think about how his partner should look like, if he keeps you by his side it's because you're exactly his type and not because he thinks you would make him look more expensive in other people's eyes.

🎰 He makes you count his money while you sit on his lap. Of course there's too much for you to reckon, stacks of coins in front of you seemed to only grow. Aventurine adores that concentrated expression on your face, the way you lick your lips with the tip of your tongue and scrunch your nose. He loves how you switch from common language to your native one when you count, especially if you have regional accent, and he just sometimes needs to hear your voice. You speak in steady, slow rhythm, quietly mouthing numbers and his heartbeat slows down to match that pace. Aventurine finds it meditative.

🎰 He's afraid that you aren't aware of how precious you are to him. He knows it's very hard for him to be vulnerable after years of being abused and constantly keeping his guard up, so he might seem emotionally detached even with all the money he throws at you and physical affection he baths you in.

The last thing he wants is you thinking you're just a pretty little thing attached to his arm like an ornament. So he tries to show you his love without confessing it directly. He shields you with his own body during fights, he makes time for you no matter how busy he is, he remembers every little detail about you from your favourite food to the size of your shoe, listens attentively to everything you say and frequently does little acts of service.

He ties you shoelaces if you struggle with it in hurry, gives you his jacket when it gets cold, reminds you to hydrate yourself, scolds you if you skip a meal and takes care of every problem before you even mention it to him. His beautiful, unique eyes always find you and watch over you, under his protective gaze nothing will be allowed to harm you.

[laneywrld]

call out my name | Lewis Hamilton

request: heyy, can we get a story with call out my name by the weeknd as the base line of the story .

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none

When you first met Lewis, you had a feeling it'd end like this.

If you could go back and change that night, you would, with no hesitation. You missed the days when Lewis was a nonfactor in your life when you didn't know he existed.

You remember that night all too well. Miami was always alive when the Grand Prix came around, your friends, like the partygoers they were enjoyed taking the opportunity to take on the vibrant nightlife and enjoy the crowds the race brought in.

It was an annual tradition, you could say, to party like tomorrow didn't exist when the lights shut down and engines roared to life.

When you first moved to Miami, you hadn't understood the essence of the sport or the crowds it brought in, until you met an overly enthusiastic Daniel Ricciardo.

You had no clue who he was when he quite literally stumbled into your path; his boyish smile and golden retriever energy made it almost impossible to be mad at him as his drink soaked your dress.

"I'm so sorry!" He calls out, stumbling over himself.

"You're not from here?" You called out as you reached down to help him stand up straight. His thick accent was a dead giveaway.

"No, I'm Australian."

"Long way from home," you shouted over the music, dragging his frame into an open seat further away from the dance floor.

"I'm working." He slurs, smiling up at you.

"Mhmm, doesn't look like you're working," you trail off, "what's your name?"

"Danny. After work fun."

"Ahh," you hum, "okay, understandable. I'm going to get you some water, okay? Did you come here with friends?"

"No. Was actually planning on making some friends." He laughs, and it makes you chortle as well.

"Miami is not the place to make friends Danny." You informed. "Stay here, I'm going to grab that water."

You saunter away, keeping an eye on the lean man as you approach the bar. You order a water, paying for the overpriced bottle with your Apple wallet, and quickly return to the drunken man. You don't know why you helped him; it was just in your nature to assist anyone you could.

Danny smiles up at you with an appreciative smile as you uncap the bottle for him, "Can you hold it, or do I have to give it to you?" You inquire.

"Give it to me, please."

You both break out into childish snickers at his words. "Easy there, buddy," you warn, tilting his chin up and directing the bottle to his mouth.

You pull it away, tightening the cap and placing it in front of him on the table. You then slide into the booth beside, "I'd feel better with myself if I stay with you for a while, just to make sure you're okay."

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, "Yeah, I get it; I'm so shitfaced right now."

It is quiet between the two of you for a while, you constantly reaching over to make sure he's hydrated and him smiling at you all dopey-like.

"You from here?" He asks as he starts to regain his sober mind.

You shake your head, "No, just moved here though."

"You can be my Miami friend." Danny grins.

"I'll probably never see you again after tonight, Mr Australia." You joke, nudging his shoulder with your own.

"I come here every year around this time." He announces. "Work."

"Work," you nod. "Right."

"Yes or no?" He prods.

"Have to see if you can hang; it doesn’t look like you can." You joke.

He scoffs, leaning away and eyeing you. "Please, I am a good time, the best time."

"Sir, I've just met you, and I'm taking care of your drunk ass." You cackle.

"How about this, stick with me for the rest of the night, and if we have a blast, every time I'm in Miami, you ride with me."

"You're going to get white girl wasted every time?" You inquire with a raised brow, and he laughs hard.

"Probably."

It was safe to say that Daniel was a blast. Even if he did party like a fratboy, you enjoyed his company. He gave you the energy of a teenage coming-of-age movie, doing whatever and saying whatever with his friends. It was a connection you hadn't experienced before.

And you enjoyed it, you liked spending time with your Australian friend. Which is how you ended up meeting Sir Lewis Hamilton six years later.

Lewis didn't know why he allowed his enthusiastic coworker to convince him to spend a night in Miami with him. The only solace he found in the situation was knowing that he wasn't the only driver there. Everyone was there, in a section booked by no one other than Daniel Ric himself.

It was nice for sure, and Lewis was curious as to how Daniel, of all people, knew so much about the lively city of Miami and their restless nightlife.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Lewis, just felt out of place a little bit, without his usual crew.

"Hey Guys, I'll be back in a second, I'm going to grab my friend."

Lewis rolls his eyes taking another sip from his glass.

He doesn't know who he was expecting, a Ken doll, a high-energy frat boy like Daniel, or even a valley girl with a high-pitched voice. This was Miami, so logically his smartest anticipation would be a surgery-riddled Kim Kardashian lookalike. But not you, Lewis would never expected you to enter the section, arm wrapped around Daniel's waist as you cackle at whatever nonsense leaves his mouth.

He is instantly intrigued, his phone being powered off and stuffed into his hoodie pocket.

You were beautiful with your rich complexion and beaming grin as he walked you down the line introducing you one by one.

His eyes never leave you as he watches you interact with everyone. You cloud his vision as you get closer. His eyes trace your hair and flow down to your brows and your alluring eyes. His view travels down your nose and lingers on your spread lips. And he physically lets out a sigh as he traces over your body.

You would drive him mad. He knows it.

-

As you take the time to introduce yourself to Danny's coworkers, you aren't surprised to see, well, to make it short, people who are not of your crowd.

But to your surprise, they're all friendly and welcoming. You're not surprised to see that you have met some of them before on your trips with Daniel or when you fly out to see him.

When you reach the end of the line you see him and your confidence falters as your eyes meet his. You should've known by the way his eyes were drinking you in that he'd be a problem.

With conviction, you approach him, bearing a sly smirk on your face.

"I'm y/n." You declared, and Lewis returned the same decency.

"I'm Lewis."

Your hands meet in the middle and he has a soft grip on you, refusing to let go.

"What's a girl like you doing with Daniel."

"He's my friend." You reply.

"Just a friend?"

"Just a friend." You confirm, and the way he looked at you through his fluffy lashes was evidence enough of what was to come between the two of you.

-

Lewis wasn't all that the media portrayed him to be. He wasn't overly confident or carefree. He actually worried a lot and was stressed a lot.

You knew that he felt like he had something to prove. You met him at his peak, and even now, when he feels like he's at the worst in his career, you're still here.

"So you're going to leave?" You hum, rubbing your fingers through his parts.

"Do you think I should?"

He looks so stressed out that is it has your heart is aching for him.

He's slumped like a kid in your lap with his face set in a frown. "I think that if you're unhappy and there are ways that you feel can change that, that you should look for something new, yes."

"Did you mean what you said last time?"

You think back to the last time you were in his presence, how he had gotten drunk for the first time in years. You wince internally as you recall how you had to nurse him back to health that night, how he cried like a baby when he mentioned how alone he felt at Mercedes. Lewis Hamilton wasn't used to being an afterthought.

"Yes, I don't think they appreciate you, Lewis. I don't think they are valuing your feedback or honoring your talent. I think they are making you miserable." You confess. "There are so many other teams that would love to have you, who would fight for you to reclaim your eighth. I don't think you should keep going through this with that team. Look at how they have you."

"Is your favorite team still Ferrari?" He opens his eyes and stares up at you.

"Duh,"

When you first met Daniel, you had only heard of the sport, but as time went on, he fully immersed you into the world of Formula One. You quickly took a liking to the red team and its intricate history in the sport. When you met Lewis in 2018, he was shocked that you knew so much about them (and barely anything about him).

"Don't tell me you're considering Ferrari, Sir Hamilton." You grin and he only smirks up at you.

"We'll see."

-

After the eventful first night you had spent with Lewis nearly six years ago, Miami has become a frequent destination of his. And New York of yours. The two of you guys had a chemistry unlike any other, every night filled with breathless pants and chants of each other's names. It was electric and erotic all at the same time.

You were fully aware that you and Lewis weren't necessarily together.

You were fun for him and him for you.

It was a mutual agreement, a bond strictly built from the amazing sex that the two of you had together.

You were aware that when the time came for Lewis to settle down and spend the rest of his life together it probably wouldn't be with you. You had believed you'd come to terms with the fact. But the idea of you two being together in the future still lingered in the back of your mind.

But as you scroll through Twitter, images and small clips of Lewis walking hand in hand with a Brazilian model have your heart tightening.

It wasn't like Lewis hadn't given you that false hope of a relationship, because you'd like to think that all of those little small things were him giving in. Surrendering that stupid ideology of his that made him believe he was a permanent bachelor.

You'd been by his side and in his bed over and over again for the last six years. And you’d be doing the same again tonight.

You almost feel grimy, sitting and waiting for him in his hotel room as he takes another woman out on a date, but a part of you knows that you’d accept anything from Lewis. You had standards and you had morals, but for a man like him, you always seem to throw them all out of the window.

Your phone vibrates and pings as your social media erupts in a frenzy.

That was another thing that had your mind in shambles right now.

How open he was when it came to you.

How quick he was to show you to the public, none of his other flings had gotten that opportunity, well until whoever this chick was.

Before you, Lewis hadn't introduced his "fun times" to his friends or even bothered to take any of them to the track.

That was something reserved only for you, though, you feel sort of naive, watching the tan and leggy woman prance around hand in hand with Lewis as he leaves the paddock.

You feel like you're stuck at the crossroads as you wait for Lewis to return.

He'd flown you out here partly because he claimed he missed you so much and the other half because of how much of a hard time you'd been having with your life in general.

Lewis was also a sort of saving grace for you, when you were with him, none of your other problems mattered. So you were quick to accept his invitation.

You'd never have accepted if you knew that he'd be playing a cruel game with you like this.

When the door creaks open and he emerges with a happy grin on his face, and bags filled to the brim with what you know are gifts for you, you can only grimace. Your attempt at a smile seems good enough for him as he approaches you and places a sudden kiss on your head.

"Hey love," He smiles, "I've got some gifts for you, yeah, knew you'd need a pick me up."

And you can't help to wonder if you'd needed the pick me up from his actions or what had transpired within this last week which was the sole purpose of you going to see him.

"I'm going to wash up, really fast, yeah? And then it'll be me and you tonight."

You say nothing as he places the bags at your feet and rushes into the bathroom.

You don't move, but you allow your eyes to skim through the bags and sigh as you see just how much he spent on you.

You had gone and done it.

Gone and made some glorified elaborate fairytale out of a man, who'd only treasured your body and in return showered you with gifts.

You laugh at yourself as your hand comes up to palm at your forehead.

You were his goddamn sugar baby, not the kind of woman he'd settle down with.

You feel even more stupid at the realization, that all of the nights you'd lay with him and console him after giving him your body were not as you had made them out to be.

It wasn't romantic, it was transactional. Those nights where you offered Lewis emotional solace always came with a hefty reward the next morning.

And now, you feel tainted, knowing that all it took was a simple call of your name for you to come flying to him and land in his bed, wrapped around his body.

You found Lewis in his prime and stuck by his side through his decline. You comforted him throughout his entire descent down the totem pole. Helped him out of that broken place, and gave him reassurance and something to look forward to.

You treasured this man.

Put him on top, time and time again, when he would leave you feeling used after your time together. And if it was up to you, you'd probably continue this cycle. Giving him your all and getting nothing in return.

You really wanted him, you wanted him to want you, which is why you were fine with keeping his bed warm, at least he wanted you in some kind of way, craved you even if it wasn't the way you wished to be desired.

When he emerges from the steamy bathroom, body clad only in a pair of briefs and his body soft and glowing, you swallow back all of your thoughts allowing yourself to take him in.

He nestles beside you on the bed, taking one of your hands in his, "everything okay?"

You can only push out a meek "yeah."

And the night goes on as planned.

The dim light of dusk spills through the blinds of the grand hotel room, casting long shadows that dance across the walls. You sit against the headboard, The melancholic melody of the empty night mirrors the turmoil in your heart.

Six years ago, you met Lewis at a nightclub, your paths crossing in a haze of neon lights and pulsing music. He was charming and mysterious, with eyes that held secrets and a smile that promised adventure. Your connection was instantaneous, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming flame. You spent endless nights talking, laughing, and dreaming about a future together. Well at least on your end.

But as the years passed, you began to notice the cracks in your seemingly perfect world. Lewis' past as a bachelor was a shadow that loomed over your situationship, a constant reminder of the freeness he carried within him. He would disappear for days on end with no communication, leaving you in a state of anxious uncertainty, your mind racing with thoughts of where he might be and who he might be with. Yet, you had no right to concern yourself with these sorts of things.

As you lay in bed, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you, you find the courage to ask, "Lewis, do you love me?" His silence is deafening, and the look in his eyes speaks of a love that is nonexistent, a love that is more of a need for you than a want.

"I care about you," he finally whispers, his voice tinged with regret. "But my heart belongs to someone else. I’m sorry."

Your world shatters at that moment, the pieces of your heart shattering like broken glass. You know you have to let him go, to find a way to heal from the pain of a love that was never truly yours.

You realize that you have been holding on to a love that was destined to fade, a love that has left you feeling empty and lost.

You deserve a love that is real and true.

He’s like medicine, he makes you feel good and at the same time, he’s like poison, running through your system and finding a new part of you to sicken. Lewis is a walking contradiction, you don’t know if he’s helping you or hurting you, if he loves you, or if he hates you. Surely, he hates you, why else would he be okay with making you feel like this?

And as the city lights flicker on, you vow to never lose yourself again.

You shouldn't ask, because you know you can't bear the weight of his answer but you do.

"The woman from earlier?"

He sighs, his response weak, "Yes."

"So no more us? Right?"

"I think this is the last time." He admits and you swallow back your tears.

"Okay."

"I still want to be your friend."

"We were never friends Lewis, and we're not going to be friends after this."

Lewis swallows, sitting up to catch your gaze through the darkness.

For years, you and Lewis had maintained a delicate balance, a friends-with-benefits arrangement that allowed you both to keep things uncomplicated. You cherished the intimacy, the shared moments of laughter, the comfort of his presence. But deep down, you always knew that this arrangement had an expiration date, an inevitable end that you tried not to think about.

And now, that end has arrived. Lewis has fallen in love with someone else. You can only turn away from him.

You stand up, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed. You begin to gather your clothes, each movement mechanical, your mind numb with the reality of it all. You glance around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings that now feel foreign and distant.

As you pull on your jacket, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are filled with unshed tears, your expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. You know that this is the moment you have to let go, to walk away from a love that was never truly yours.

You think it's kind of ironic.

How you'd been there for Lewis, and when you needed him most, he's leaving you behind.

"Do you love me?" Lewis' voice echoes from his place on the bed.

"No." You lie. "It was fun, was fun being a pit stop for you." You chuckle.

"It wasn't like that-"

"No, it's fine, we weren't anything, you fucked me and brought me gifts in return, I ate that up, that's all. I knew I was only here until you made up your mind, I'm happy you did."

You had a tendency to become a bitch when you were hurt and you knew that your words were low blows, but your pride was too hard for you to allow Lewis to see himself affect you in real time.

In reality, you'd hoped that if the unfortunate and impending doom would occur, that Lewis would have the decency to allow you to fall out of love with him first.

Then it wouldn't hurt.

You knew what the arrangement was, you knew that you and Lewis were technically nothing and you always thought that when the day came for him to finally leave you, you'd be fine. You'd feel nothing. But you do.

It feels like when that one character who doesn't care about dying has a sudden brush with death, how almost dying rids you of every sane thought you have, a person who fears nothing all of a sudden fears death, fears everything.

You always thought you'd feel nothing, but losing, could you even say losing Lewis? 

Being left by Lewis feels terrible, being left by him feels scary, like everything you knew before was not as it seems. 

You always thought you'd feel nothing, but you feel everything you thought you never would.

And in the end, you still wanted him to stay. You wanted him to choose you. Even if he didn't want you.

here you go babes @greedyjudge2 !! I'm sorry it took so long <3

part two in the future fs.

[baxndaid]

sal fisher x sick! reader ?????? pls i will take any crumbs i can get why is sally face fandom so dead

sal fisher x reader 🖤🎶♟️ -- sick reader+sal!! hc

a/n ; i need this fandom to be alive again bc wtf hes so perf, short!!

do NOT by any means tell him that he cant visit you while your sick because he does NOT gaf

he'll kiss you, he'll cuddle you, he doesnt care if he gets sick, he just wants to make sure you feel loved and comfortable

both ashley and larry do the same, bringing you flowers and chocolates, todd texts you best wishes but he would rather die than get sick

he might come in with a full nuclear suit just to be safe

sally likes taking care of you, but he gets a little sad whenever he sees you suffering

even if its a common cold, he'll some times over-think and worry about your wellbeing, "what if its something serious? what if they die?" type shit

reassure him you feel fine pls he needs it

he will stay over if his dad lets him (which he does, he finds your relationship cute) and sleep with you to make sure your okay during the night

unless hes really worried, he wont skip school since hes been skipping a lot often due to ghost hunts and the usual sf group shenanigans and the school doesnt really take lightly to absences

lord knows theyve given up on larry though

after spending time with you, he wipes his prosthetic with a disinfectant so he doesnt accidently make anybody else sick

after you get better, he'll fall sick

youll scold him with a "i told you so", and take care of him like he took care of you

ashley would spray sally's entire room with a disinfectant spray before entering, a hand over her lower face to be as dramatic as possible, larry following right after

sally feels bad whenever you take care of him when hes sick, especially because you have to deal with... well, his face

because of the lack of flesh near his mouth, he would drool a lot, especially because he was sick, he would struggle with mucus too, due to his destroyed nose

its not like he couldnt deal with this himself, since hes been like this since childhood, but he feels embarrassed that his own s/o helps him with something that would be an easy task for anybody who wasnt him

but you gently remind him that you do this because you love him, not because you pity him

he'll warn you that you'll get sick if you interact with him which is hypocritical since he literally did the same thing...

kiss him better pls he wants it

keep a massive box of tissues next to his bed stand AND WATER because he always forgets to hydrate even when he isnt sick

in conclusion, you both treat each other well whenever the other is sick, even if it meant that you'd also fall ill after <3

[deathbxnny]

HI LOVEE!!!

ok, this is a once in a lifetime occasion because I am obsessed with WuWa.

May I request an angst to fluff fic with Husband! Jiyan?

So, fem reader as always! As we all know the busy General spends most of his time at the front lines, but he always makes sure to send his sweet wife some gifts back! But she can't help but feel a bit neglected by him, missing him too much and some people's loud mouths talking bad about their relationship did not help either, so what happens when Jiyan returns home to surprise his wife but finds her crying silently instead? I'll leave that to you!!

I just love him sm, he's my lovely main! what's your team pookie? I'll share mine! Jiyan (main DPS) Encore (sub DPS) and Verina (Healer), sometimes I switch Encore with Rover (I chose the female one, which one did you choose?)

anyways, love you, keep yourself hydrated and rest! sweet flowers for my sweet bxnny → 💐🌻🌺

I saw angst and felt the voices (angst demons) attempt to take over lmao.

But my current team is usually made out of Calcharo, Verina, and Yinlin (I sometimes change out either Calcharo or Yinlin with my boy Jiyan tho, depending on what I'm fighting-). I also chose the female Rover, btw! She's just so cute!^^

So with that all said, thank you for the request, and I hope you'll love this too, dear moot!!<33

Content: Female/afab reader, husband Jiyan, some angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of paranoia, death (not of reader or Jiyan), mentions of war, sfw

Reader is afab!

((Not proofread))

When he's gone for too long. (Husband!Jiyan x Fem!Reader)

Your excitement dies when you open the front door in the hope of seeing your husband, only to be faced with a soldier instead. He stands there calmly, face expressionless like all the others before him, as he holds out an intricate package to you. If you didn't know any better, you would've knocked it out of his hands.

"A package for you, my lady. From the general." The man hummed, waiting patiently for you to take it. He didn't shy away from the anger in your eyes, the pain and pure annoyance, that was then stilled with a deep breath. They were used to it by now.

"Thank you." You said, the package feeling heavy in your hands when you shut the door behind you again wordlessly. Not seeing the way the soldier opened his mouth once more to say something else.

Something that would've quelled the anger in your heart.

You threw the gift on a pile next to the door, dust slightly filling the air when it hit the many others that came before it. It wasn't that you weren't grateful or happy. But you also just wanted your husband to be here instead. You wanted him to hand you these gifts. Him to be the one that appears at your door after being gone for so long.

It angered you that he wasn't here, even if you knew why.

Being a general was difficult and draining. It forced him to stay out on the frontlines for weeks and even months on end with minimal communication, if any at all. His solution was, therefore, to simply send his wife lavish gifts in hopes of making her feel less lonely, but he knew better than to believe that it ultimately worked in the long run.

Your anger made you feel selfish, and the guilt made you feel worse. You were stuck in an inescapable cycle that was impossible to break out of. Leaving the home for a break was impossible as well. No matter where you went, the pity filled looks and taunting whispers seemed to haunt you. It made you barely step out of the house. You couldn't do it, not without him.

It was a miserable existence, and yet you never voiced your woes to Jiyan either. You didn't want to burden him with such troubles when he had worse things to worry about. He had been through atrocities he could never even speak of, so surely you could survive the couple weeks without him, right? He was keeping you all safe, his sacrifices were important. Even if it was at the cost of your sanity.

But now that you sat here in the darkness of your living room all alone, you realise that you perhaps never accepted the neglect as much as you wanted to. You felt horrible, the guilt eating you alive whilst you shed endless tears and hid your face in your hands, body shaking and trembling with every sob. It was unfair. It wasn't right. You had to wipe away the agony and be strong for him. You shouldn't act like this.

What would the people think if they saw the generals wife crying over him performing his duties? They'd mock you even more, shake their heads in disappointment, give you lethal looks that burned you from the inside out. The embarrassment, the shame... you internalized it all until this very moment. You had finally burst at the seams, and just as you thought that you'd have to suffer through this alone as usual, a gentle, calloused hand cupped yours softly.

"My love?" His voice startled you, a gasp leaving your lips as you attempted to pull away and turn your head in panic. You didn't hear him approach you. Heart sinking in your chest, you realised that he was sitting right next to you, his other hand resting on your back to keep you in place against him. You couldn't breathe, as you panted heavily.

"What happened to you? Did something happen in my absence? I sent a soldier to send you a message about my return, but..." His eyes swayed to the pile gifts near the doorway, his heart clenching when he began piecing together what may have caused your plight. Despite you thinking otherwise, his observant eyes caught onto more than he let on. He wasn't blind or deaf to what the general public seemed to think of you, nor was he that unaware of your pain and neglect. He himself felt pain for his actions, even if he had no true choice in them. It's a sacrifice that had to be made as long as there was a threat to the city and most importantly your life out there.

But now, as he sat there, your face pushed to his chest as you cried, and his heart cracked under the pressure of your tears, he realised that he didn't need to sacrifice your well-being this much as well. You didn't deserve it.

"Please... don't leave me like this again." Your words were quiet, so quiet that he nearly didn't catch them, but his mind and soul were only focused on you. His gaze softened as his hand ran through your hair before he pressed his head against yours in solidarity. He didn't want it to get this far. He didn't want to make you cry until even air couldn't enter your lungs.

Perhaps he had overworked himself far too hard. Perhaps he had been gone for longer than he needed to... but that will stop now.

"My apologies, my love. It won't happen again. I will try staying for longer now..." He trailed off, as he kissed your forehead and wiped away your tears. He knew he had alot to make up for, but he wasn't the type to back down from such an important mission.

And the smallest relieved smile on your tired face made it worth it.

Alrighttt... I hope this was okay! I admittedly wrote this half asleep, so I'm praying it's not terrible lmao... Anyway, thank you again for the great request, moot!!<33