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#expect a bombardment of posts
suckishima · 5 months
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so much to love here aaah, akiteru nostalgic about yamaguchi plus the little memory of him and how he still pictures him is so sweet, just the little nervous "um, i-is kei-kun home?" (man that's got me wondering if it's potentially akiteru remembering the first time he ever met yamaguchi and like of course the kid is star struck that his cool new friend's super duper cool ace big brother answered the door omgg)
and then just of course shimada calling him "my boy" skdhds he's so proud!!!! i like to think he doesn't even really deny takinoue's accusation that he's his son lmao
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The reason I haven't posted any art in ages is because I'm saving all my drawing energy like a held special attack to release when the Doctor Who specials come out y'all are gonna be absolutely bombarded
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crowdsourcedloner · 1 year
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Imagine, if you would, a reaper of stars...
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thosegothsims · 12 days
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soooooo as per this post i decided to try playing around with the idea of starting to play with that whole "my version of the not so berry challenge" idea by making a sim and playing for a couple of in-game days and ohhhh i am OBSESSED with this sim rn
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samaspic31 · 8 months
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im so fucking mad about capitalism's devaluation of manual labor (especially financial, hi raise the fucking wages) and expectation to outsource labor, leading to dire exploitation (everyone is exploited, but manual workers especially AND don't get compensated for the toll on their body AND get looked down on unlike white collar workers, all that because making intellectual products is worth 10 times more money i fucking guess). The average person used to have so many more practicak skills and we used to know how make so much more stuff, having people cook, clean, take care of your children and sew for you was the height of luxury for a wealthy woman, depending so much on buying to substain your lifestyle was reserved to the extremely wealthy. People were expected to hold more basic skills outside of a hyperspecific field of their career like today and were allowed to spend time on broad and practical knowledge, and today schools do not even out the playing field because it's still mostly theoric regurgitation (which great, but give all the youngsters a cooking, crafting and sewing class and teach them accounting im begging) making people into highly specific tools relying on buying most of what they don't even think they can make, because disempowered. (this is linked to capitalist shaming of perceived failure and beginners and imperfection but that's a whole other can of worms)
Like for example it was just a given painters made their own paint (or started by making it for their mentor, any way they were taught how), it was considered a necessary first step, a way to understand your medium, and a way no to depend on anyone else or a corporation, and i think a lot of artists are missing that step of having to spend effort on the medium itself. I don't know how my graphic tablet works and i can't make acrylic paint and that's a shame
Like it was always normal for the already rich to leave all physical work to exploited workers but today it's everyone else's case too (at least in the economic north), making your own stuff is a counterculture thing, and even poverty or being an exploited worker eats so much of time that it makes it so buying is necessary and stuff made with exploited labor the only affordable option, fucking vicious cycle
there were deep inequalities with how the teaching of those skills were segregated, which was for which gender and social class, im not saying it was universally good, and women were expected to accumulate way more skills just to do all the managing of a household AND get that labor devalued, just, urgh, it was considered important to know at least i guess
also the birth of packaging and the rise of single use plastic+ worldwide transport of goods is heavily linked to this and a consequence of a global economic boom but it's still a fucking disaster-
anyways buy a s little new shit in as little packaging as you can and fuck corporations
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paintedkinzy-88 · 9 months
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You mentioned that the dragons share a lot of similar instincts to a lot of Gaster Blaster aus... does that mean Gaster Blasters can also have hoards?
Probably not! Maybe in some AUs, depending on the Creator, but I don’t really see them as being full “dragons” so to speak.
The shared instincts (depending on the AU of course) are typically protectiveness, triggered aggression, some cat or dog-like behaviors, Error’s beam… rather than hoarding, the mild heats, unique “breaths,” anything of that sort!
They are separate from Gaster Blasters, so they won’t be alike in every sense. ;)
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artnouveau · 2 years
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look at what i did!!! 🥹
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rillette · 2 years
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Hello. You have some how switched my brain rot from Jason Todd to my now scrunkly meow meow Hal Jordan long before my brain would naturally move on, so I now have brain rot over both. I'm not sure whether to give you a big hug or slap you. (Seriously, though I love your work. This world is not fit to have work such as yours in it.)
WE GOT ANOTHER ONE BOYS!!! YEEEHAW!!! I'm so glad my propaganda is working <3 heres a hal I drew in my notes app
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one thing 'm gonna miss abt livingnh by m'self is hanging around my house in my skivvies
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gothhabiba · 4 months
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[ID: Instagram post by @PalestinianYouthMovement with text reading: “Urgent call to mobilize for Rafah! Heavy non-stop bombing currently targeting Gaza’s southernmost city of Rafah, days after Occupation threatens ground invasion.” End ID]
Rafah is currently under heavy bombardment. This is the southernmost area of the Gaza strip--the area that people were told to evacuate to. Israel is carrying out the exact plan that people were expecting from the beginning; shrinking the "safe" zone and pushing forced migration further and further south, then attacking and killing people in that extremely densely populated area.
Find a protest in your area:
Canada:
Toronto
Ottawa
Montreal
United States:
Austin
Los Angeles
Houston,
Cleveland
Seattle
Atlanta
Washington DC
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Hey I have this Charles x reader request in mind where they're in a backstreet relationship and someone is being rude to her while she's in Monaco? the rest of how the story goes is up to you:)
Protective Boyfriend Mode (Charles Leclerc x Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff Word count : 2,8k
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Dating Charles Leclerc in secret has its perks.
For starters, Y/N doesn’t have to dodge the metaphorical tomatoes hurled by the public just yet. The judgment, the microscopic scrutiny, and the sky-high expectations that come with being a WAG? She’s more than happy to keep those at bay for now.
Y/N doesn’t mind that the world has no clue she's dating Charles. What really counts is how he treats her when they’re away from prying eyes. Who needs the world to know when she gets the best version of him, away from the cameras and the chaos?
His family, of course, is in on the secret and backs her decision to stay incognito. Honestly, Y/N doesn’t need the publicity circus that would erupt if they went public. She enjoys her peaceful, average life, free from paparazzi ambushes and social media execution.
Sometimes, Y/N can’t help but indulge in a little harmless online stalking of Charles’ exes—Giada Gianni, Charlotte Siné, Alexandra Saint-Mleux. These women look like they’ve stepped straight out of a magazine cover, and she has zero shame in admitting it. Envy is one of the seven deadly sins for a reason, and let’s face it, she’s only human.
What really gets her is trying to figure out why on earth Charles latched onto her after dating these goddesses. It’s like he stepped out of a sleek Ferrari and decided to cruise around on a humble bicycle.
She swings between feeling like the luckiest girl alive and wondering if he might need a stronger prescription for his glasses. The whole situation leaves her scratching her head and laughing at the absurdity of it all.
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Today, everything grated on her nerves. Her hair looks like it could fry chips. Her skin is dull enough to blend into the wallpaper. The toaster has chosen today of all days to go on strike. To top it off, her co-workers keep bombarding her with Teams calls without even checking if she’s available. If she could rate this day, it would get a solid 0 out of 10.
“Can this day get any worse?” she mutters to herself, glancing at her reflection. “Y/N, you’re one bad hair day away from looking like Bellatrix Lestrange.”
Her laptop buzzes with another Teams call. She groans and answers, forcing a smile. “Hi, Harvey. Can I help you?”
“Hey, Y/N! Quick question—”
“Harvey, quick question for you: Did you check if I’m available?”
“Uh, no?”
“Exactly, so please, next time, do me a solid and check if I'm available before hitting that call button, okay?”
Just then, her phone buzzes with a text from Charles.
“Hope your day’s going better than mine! My helmet decided to play hide and seek.”
She snickers and types back.
“At least your helmet’s hiding. The toaster just gave up on life.”
“I'm really sorry about your day, ma chérie. But I promise to make it better. I'll swing by your favorite bakery and bring back a ridiculous amount of cakes just for you.”
That earned a smile out of her. Trust Charles to know exactly what she needs.
As Y/N tries to shake off the day's frustrations, she decides to distract herself by scrolling through Instagram. Among the posts, one catches her eye—a recent upload from Jasmine Tookes, her celebrity crush since forever. Jasmine looks stunning, as always, flaunting a gorgeous Yves Saint Laurent bag in cherry red that's absolutely to die for.
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Y/N can practically feel the allure of the bag through the screen, and an idea sparks in her mind. The YSL boutique is just a short walk away.
“Maybe a little retail therapy is just what I need to salvage this day,” she muses aloud.
Without giving it a second thought, she grabs her purse and heads out the door.
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As Y/N steps into the YSL boutique, she's greeted by the scent of a distinct perfume mingled with a hint of leather. The store is relatively empty, save for a few tourists browsing the shelves. Undeterred, Y/N scans the display case, her eyes searching for that coveted cherry-red bag she spotted on Jasmine Tookes' Instagram.
From her peripheral vision, she notices a couple of sales assistants giving her a once-over, but no one approaches her. She shrugs it off, relishing the freedom to browse at her own pace. Finally, she spots the bag she's been dreaming of and makes her way over to it.
“Excuse me,” she calls out to one of the nearby sales assistants politely. ��Could you tell me about the stock availability and the price of this bag?”
The sales assistant approaches, but when she begins speaking in French, Y/N's heart sinks. She's not fluent in French, and she quickly apologizes, asking if they could switch to English instead.
There's a momentary hesitation from the sales assistant, who seems to be holding back an eye-roll, before reluctantly switching to English. The demeanor, however, turns chilly, and Y/N can't shake the feeling of being judged.
“I'm sorry, but that particular item is not available,” the sales assistant replies curtly, her tone dripping with condescension. “Perhaps you should try checking other stores that may be more suited to your purchasing ability.”
Y/N's cheeks flush with frustration, her jaw clenching as she tries to maintain her composure. She can't believe she's being treated this way in a store she loves. Taking a deep breath, she forces a polite smile, trying not to cause a scene.
“Excuse me,” she says as politely as she can muster, her voice trembling slightly. “May I ask what made you say that to me?”
The sales assistant's gaze hardens, her tone dripping with disdain. “Maybe you should look into a mirror and see your own appearance today.”
Y/N's eyes widen in disbelief. So what if she's just dressed in a plain t-shirt and linen pants? Is minimalism suddenly not cool anymore?
Y/N retorts, her voice edged with disbelief. “Are you seriously judging me based on how I look? Last time I checked, being a customer wasn't contingent on wearing a designer outfit.”
As she speaks, Y/N notices some discreetly filming tourists nearby, their expressions mirroring her shock and disbelief. She feels a surge of vindication knowing she's not the only one appalled by the sales assistant's behavior.
Y/N's fists clench tighter at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she struggles to contain her rising anger. The sales assistant's dismissive wave and condescending tone only serve to fuel the fire burning within her.
“Madame, this is a respected establishment,” the SA says, her voice dripping with thinly veiled contempt. “Please take your leave.”
Y/N's jaw tightens, her frustration reaching its peak. She opens her mouth to retort, to unleash the torrent of words building up inside her, but then she stops. What's the point? Arguing with someone who clearly lacks any sense of professionalism would only waste her energy.
With a deep breath to steady herself, Y/N turns on her heel and strides out of the store, her head held high despite the humiliation burning in her chest. She refuses to let this one encounter ruin her day, but she also knows she won't be returning to that boutique anytime soon.
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By the time Charles arrived home, juggling two bulging shopping bags filled with an assortment of delectable cakes, he could practically taste the sour mood emanating from Y/N. Despite her attempts to shrug off whatever had bothered her, Charles refused to let it slide.
He set the bags down on the kitchen counter with a soft thud, his brow furrowed in concern as he approached Y/N. “Hey, bébé , what's wrong?” he asked gently, reaching out to touch her shoulder.
Y/N forced a tight smile, trying to brush off his concern. “Oh, it's nothing, Charles. Just a little hiccup. Not worth your energy, really.”
But Charles wasn't about to let it go that easily. He could sense her distress, and he wasn't one to stand idly by when someone he cared about was upset.
Before he could press further, Charles' phone rang, signaling an incoming text message. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he glanced at the screen, seeing the name Lorenzo flashing across it. The text sounded urgent, almost concerned, and Charles felt a knot form in his stomach as he read the words: “You need to see this.”
Curiosity mingled with dread as Charles opened the message, his heart sinking as he watched the video attached to it. There, playing out on his phone screen, was footage taken by a tourist earlier at the YSL store. His jaw clenched in anger as he watched Y/N being treated with such disrespect, her humiliation on full display for the world to see.
He curses under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides as he paces back and forth in the living room. His mind racing with thoughts of how to address the situation.
Charles then gently takes Y/N's hands in his own, his expression softening with concern as he looks into her eyes. “Why didn't you tell me about this right away?”
Y/N's smile falters slightly, and he can see the sadness lurking behind her eyes, but she quickly masks it with a playful tone. “Ah, you know me, always trying to avoid unnecessary drama,” she says, attempting to brush off the seriousness of the situation. “Besides, sometimes people are just assholes, right?”
Her attempt at humor falls a bit flat, and Charles can't help but feel a pang of guilt for not being there to protect her. He squeezes her hands gently, his voice filled with determination. “You shouldn't have to deal with this alone, Y/N. I'm here for you.”
Y/N gives him a small, grateful smile, but he can tell she's still trying to downplay the situation. “Hey,” she says, her tone lightening, “at least people will think it's just a video of some random person being treated badly in a luxury brand store. They won't know it's Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, right? So, let's just let it go and move on.”
She tries to lighten the mood with a joke, but Charles can sense the underlying tension beneath her words. He knows she's just trying to protect him from the inevitable media storm that would follow if the video gained more traction.
But Charles can't shake the feeling of anger and frustration bubbling inside him. He wants to defend her honor, to make sure she never has to endure such treatment again.
Reluctantly, he nods, forcing a small smile of his own. “Okay chérie. Let's just focus on enjoying these cakes, shall we?”
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The very next day, unbeknownst to Y/N, Charles decides to pay a visit to the YSL store. With a determined look in his eyes, he discreetly asks for the service of the sales assistant who humiliated Y/N.
Colette, the SA in question, practically beams with excitement and arrogance when she learns that Charles Leclerc has requested her personally. Straightening her posture, she approaches him with an air of self-importance.
“How may I be of service, Monsieur Leclerc?” Colette asks, her tone laced with enthusiasm.
Pathetic. Charles thought to himself.
He adopts a casual demeanor, pretending to browse the store as if looking for a gift for his girlfriend. “I'm looking for something special for my girlfriend,” he says casually, noting the way Colette's eyes light up at the mention of his romantic status.
Colette tries to contain her excitement, feigning nonchalance as she responds, “Oh, I wasn't aware you had a new girlfriend since your breakup with Alexandra Saint-Mleux. She is also a regular customer here.”
Charles decides to play along, a dangerous glint in his eye as he says, “Yes, my current girlfriend is a very private person. She prefers to stay out of the spotlight.”
Curiosity getting the better of her, Colette can't help but ask, “May I see a picture of her? Just in case she happens to come by, I'd love to be able to assist her.”
Charles smirks inwardly, knowing this is his moment to turn the tables. “Sure, why not?” he replies, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his gallery.
As he shows Colette a picture of himself and Y/N together, he watches with satisfaction as the color drains from her face, her eyes widening in shock and recognition.
Colette's apologies pour out in a torrent, her voice trembling as she stammers out excuses. “I-I had no idea, Monsieur Leclerc! If I had known, I would never have acted that way. Please, forgive me!”
Charles maintains a cool and collected demeanor, but his words are razor-sharp as he addresses Colette. “Your behavior reflects poorly on the brand,” he says icily, his tone dripping with disdain. “Perhaps they should consider terminating your employment for such unprofessional conduct.”
Charles's threat hangs in the air like a storm cloud, and Colette's eyes widen in alarm as she realizes the gravity of her mistake. She scrambles to salvage the situation. “Monsieur Leclerc, please, I assure you, this is not how we typically treat our customers. I'm deeply sorry for any inconvenience I've caused.”
But Charles remains unmoved, his defensive stance unwavering as he delivers his next line with a sharp edge. “I suggest you think twice before treating customers so disrespectfully in the future,” he says, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Colette can only nod, her eyes downcast in shame as she mumbles yet another apology.
Seeing the tension escalate, the store manager, who has been discreetly observing the commotion, rushes over to where they are. He offers his own profuse apologies, his tone filled with urgency. “Monsieur Leclerc, I am terribly sorry for the behavior of my staff. This is unacceptable, and I assure you, Colette will be disciplined for her actions.”
Charles raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “Disciplined, you say? Well, I suppose that's a start. But perhaps I should take my business elsewhere, like Dior or Chanel.”
The store manager's eyes widen in alarm at the suggestion of losing such a high-profile customer. “No, Monsieur Leclerc, please, we value your patronage! I assure you, this will not happen again. Please, allow us to make it right.”
Charles offers a tight-lipped smile. “I appreciate your swift action, but I do hope this serves as a lesson for your staff moving forward.”
He then gestures towards the display. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to purchase the bag my girlfriend had her eye on.”
The store manager nods hurriedly, signaling to a nearby assistant to fetch the bag. As they scurry to fulfill Charles' request, the manager returns with a bouquet of peonies wrapped elegantly.
“Please accept these peonies as a gesture of our sincere apology,” the manager says, offering the flowers to Charles. “We hope this helps to make amends for the madame.”
Charles accepts the bouquet with a nod. “Thank you,” he says, his tone clipped. “I'm sure my girlfriend will appreciate the thoughtfulness. She's far more forgiving than I am, fortunately for you.”
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Y/N is furiously typing away on her laptop when the front door swings open. She squints at the figure entering the room, only to catches sight of her boyfriend holding something suspiciously behind his back.
“Baby, what are you up to now?” she teases, a grin spreading across her face.
He feigns innocence. “Oh, just a little surprise for my favorite woman.”
Y/N's eyes sparkle with anticipation as she eagerly stands up, her curiosity piqued. “Oh, do tell!”
In a dramatic motion, Charles presents her with the unmistakable YSL bag. Y/N's jaw practically hits the floor as she exclaims, “Oh, no, you didn't!”
Charles chuckles, unable to contain his amusement. “Oh yes, I did, chérie. And just wait until you see what's inside!”
Excitedly, Y/N opens the bag, her eyes widening in awe as she pulls out the coveted item. She tries it on with exaggerated walk, striking poses as if she's on a runaway.
Charles watches her with a mixture of adoration and amusement, his heart swelling with love for this wonderful person.
But then, amidst her excitement, Y/N's expression turns serious as she asks about the sales assistant.
Charles adopts a mock serious tone, his eyebrows shooting up in faux concern. “Well you know, she's just taking a little timeout to contemplate the error of her ways.” he replies, his gaze flickering with a hint of satisfaction.
Y/N's eyes widen in surprise, but before she can inquire further, Charles pulls her into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her tightly.
“And also,” Charles adds, “they threw in some peonies.”
“Peonies? Are they trying to bribe me with flowers now?”
Charles chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, considering the ordeal you went through, I'd say they owe you a bouquet or two.”
Y/N playfully rolls her eyes. “I hope they at least remembered to include a card with a heartfelt apology from the SA.”
Charles raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “You mean the 'Sorry we were jerks, here are some flowers' card?”
They both dissolve into laughter, the absurdity of the situation not lost on them. It's moments like these that make even the most frustrating experiences worth it.
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genshins1mpact · 2 years
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me thinking my 3-4 4☆ 10 pull was great luck and then seeing these triple 5☆ pulls on twt was is def a humbling experience lmfaaaooo but I'll still take it bc it could've just been the bells and eye of perceptions and mandatory pity 💀 which im pretty sure some were anyway rip
nilou came home around soft pity and i managed to get 1 of the new 4☆ weapons (got the catalyst but rly wanted just 1 copy of the sword,,, praydge) didn't manage to gif it this time bc i wasn't playing on mobile this time, will just have to send myself the screenshots later ig
managed to get nilou to about lvl 70 but her talents are all over the place,, im always outta fungi drops istg ;^; either bc of the different drops thanks to electro or bc EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING ELSE NEEDS FUNGI DROPS 😭 especially tighnari omfgrhdy it was such a pain when i got him and him bow,,,, same enemies but diff mats from it 🥴
*cool idea in theory bc of all the sumeru/dendro reactions.... but diff drops being reliant on one enemy kinda blows in practice. farming was already annoying enough bro 😞
oh and speaking of tighnari, i finally got him to lvl 10 friendship last night! 🥰❤️ collei isn't too far behind, prob gonna aim for cyno & nilou now that they're on the friendship exp team. ended up getting a collei con while going for nilou so thanks to the 2 free copies she's almost c6 now yay! also, very very excited for nahida & layla (presumably) next patch! they both look very cool, can't wait 🙌🏻 💕 not usually fond of the shortest tier charas bc my tall ass prefers to stay tall /j i don't prefer aiming at that level,,, but ah well, archon team incoming! prob won't work well but excited nonetheless! lol
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mrrharper · 3 months
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More Loyal, More American, More The Same
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Coach had been annoyed a bit lately. It wasn't because of any singular thing - a lost game or some encounter. It was more of a... vibe, as his players would say. It's something that's been nagging him for a long time.
The whole atmosphere around college football has changed. Players can now earn money, meaning they now care only about getting rich instead of sacrificing everything they've got for the team. The craze abound 'toxic masculinity' has taken hold, and as a result many guys on the team have taken up interests and activities unworthy of real men - and they are extremely public about this!
Something has been lost - some immeasurable yet vital part of college football's spirit. And unfortunately Coach's team wasn't immune to this. He has seen his younger recruits display a variety of behaviors that differed from his view of how a college football rookie should function in a locker room filled with other football players.
And Coach's opinion becomes the law of the locker room. So after he saw a few of his defensive linemen participate in a film theory seminar, and his starting wide receiver posted a picture showing him attending some anti-government protest, he knew he had to act.
He decided to tackle these issues in a few ways. He began with working on his players' patriotism. Coach knew that he needed his guys to have this base layer - respect for the great nation that they were a part of - that he could build upon. He turned to one of his most trusted tools, subconscious messaging hidden in his videos and presentations.
you are an American
you are a Real Patriot
you play AMERICAN football
you fight for America
America is the greatest country on Earth
you preserve American traditions and values
During teem meetings, the players' minds began internalizing the importance of unquestionable loyalty to the US of A, the greatest place in the world. Coach spent a few weeks working on this, and when Military Appreciation Day came, for the first time in a long time, the whole team took active part in it. He even heard a few of them talk abut enlisting after college.
Motivated by such positive results, Coach moved to his next objective. After a bit of tampering, the speakers the players used to play music in the gym during workouts began incorporating conditioning that would align their behavior with Coach's expectations.
i am a man
i am proud to be a man
i am a strong man
i do what is masculine
my manhood needs upkeep
masculinity defines me
Alongside this, it didn't take a lot of work for coach to make sure that none of his players could sign up for any extracurricular activity through the school's registration system. Not only that, they were now barred form attending anything other than the most basic of classes.
Fortunately, the results were visible here as well. The players stopped attending seminars and lectures created by a bunch of nerds and no longer showed interest in investing much time into any sort of academic work.
The last step Coach decided to undertake was meant to address the issue of money. Players, having the ability to make deals and get income from their appearance in games, seemed to have lost the true reason for playing college football. But there was a way of dealing with that too.
The new helmets that the athletics department bought recently all include a pair of speakers for the purpose of communication between the coaches and the player. In theory this is reserved only for the QB, but there's nothing Coach can't work around.
i play AMERICAN football
i am grateful Coach allows me to play
i play football for glory and to preserve tradition
the thrill of the game is enough
i am Coach's loyal football jock
During every practice, during every workout, during every game, the player's minds were being bombarded with Coach's hypnotic message. And it was working. The guys were displaying their patriotism more often - flags hanging in their rooms, tons of pro-american posts on Instagram, they stopped attending non-mandatory classes and instead added another team session in the gym to their schedules, and Coach noted a visible drop in the number of sponsorship deals the players were making.
There might have been one side effect. As time went on the players began looking more and more similar. The same hobbies, mostly working out or shooting, the same clothes, the same views, the same drive to protect tradition. And Coach had absolutely nothing against that. Who cares if they all act the same, as long as they act exactly as he wants them to.
As Coach's loyal football jocks.
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httpsserene · 8 months
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kinktober '23 table of contents
welcome to serene's f1 kinktober special! i do not know how many posts i will be doing for this event, but, reblog and save this masterlist for any updates concerning my f1 kinktober.
posts will be tagged with: # httpss :// kinktober 23
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view playlist? ↴
upload 1 : charles leclerc / max verstappen x reader | corruption kink
innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things.
upload 2 : carlos sainz jr x reader | were/wolf shifter & predator/prey
for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first.
upload 3 : oscar piastri x reader | car sex & squirting
your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren.
upload 4 : daniel ricciardo / max verstappen x reader | overstimulation
you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.
upload 5 : lewis hamilton x reader | tender sex & cockwarming
your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning.
upload 6 : george russell x reader | vampire & hickeys/biting
george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well.
upload 7 : pierre gasly x reader | witchcraft
witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.
upload 8 : lando norris x reader | pussy worship
if lando achieved a podium at silverstone, you promised you’d give him anything he wants. he thinks about it the whole race weekend, and when the two of you are celebrating his second-place finish, he tells you that he wants to take care of you. you’re disbelieving–he takes care of you every waking hour. lando, on the other hand, said that with his chest. and he’ll prove it to you.
upload 9 : charles leclerc x reader | orgasm delay/denial
the 2023 season has had a despicable effect on charles’ self-worth. it pains you to see how he attributes ferrari’s failure to deliver to himself. you can’t stand to see him berate himself for things that are out of his control. when the emilia-romagna grand prix is understandably canceled, you start forming a plan. if charles doesn’t believe he’s as good as you say he is, you’ll make him internalize it–using any means necessary.
upload 10 : yuki tsunoda x reader | ab-riding/frottage
your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre.
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 10 months
Text
Smile❤️ (Yandere X Loser!Reader)
Micky thought that he couldn't feel love.
Ever since he could remember, Micky couldn't connect with anyone on an emotional level. Even his own family members were like aliens to him, creatures that stretched their lips into strange contortions, ETs that became unreasonable when he wouldn't do the same. As a teenager many girls flirted with him in school, hell, a few guys did as well, but none of their confessions ever stirred any emotion from him, even at the height of his puberty. The smiles of the people around him never felt warm or welcoming. Just, tight. Cheeks pulled back, revealing teeth, expecting him to mirror their action, and Micky couldn't understand why.
Nothing made him smile.
College was further isolating. Group projects seemed to no longer be a thing, (at least in the classes he took) so his interactions with humans slowly became less frequent, making his classmates look more inhuman and monstrous.
Until someone in his college was doxxed for being a creep. It was interesting, watching how quickly people turned on their friend, forcing him into an outcast because someone online revealed his private post history.
An annoying young woman in his language arts class gathered people around Micky's seat to talk about what had happened. Micky wouldn't have searched up the drama on his own time, but he didn't see the point in pushing everyone away.
"This user on Xforums, anonymousXnightmare is the one who doxxed Nathan."
AnonymousXnightmare? How fucking lame.
"That's a lame username..."
"Maybe it's a kid..?"
Micky did his best to ignore them, but the username kept popping up in conversation throughout campus. It was getting a little annoying. Some people were mocking the name, while others were praising the "internet hero". It started interfering with his ability to focus in his classes.
But the gossip cooled down after a week, and life began to run as normal, until another student had their life ruined. A football player, they didn't post anything incriminating or disturbing. It was anonymousXnightmare who posted their own collected evidence. Pictures taken from afar of the player with his highschool sweetheart, as in sweetheart who was still in highschool. Recordings of the two of them. Months of stalking all compiled by the stranger.
Again, Micky was bombarded by chatter, excitable young adults losing their minds over the situation. It was... irritating.
Back in his dorm room, Micky was scrolling through Xforums, the most popular forum used by students in his university, made by students for students, searching for the loser with the lame username. Scrolling past the photos he had heard about, he found a post stating
"Dear Allen Brackens, if you cannot stop blasting your shitty music in the halls on your shitty speakers, I WILL ruin your life!"
and Micky had to lean back, to just take in what he had read. That must have been the name of the football player. What he was doing was genuinely gross, and should have been exposed by someone. But did this poster really stalk them for what looked like months just because he listened to music they didn't like?
It was so dumb.
He scrolled down farther into the mystery poster's history, to the first man they doxxed.
"Dear Nathan McAllister, we all know you're a two faced little bitch. Either stop littering the campus with your Jesus pamphlets, or else..."
Micky, for the first time in his life, was amused. The whole situation was so stupid. They really ruined their fellow students lives, just because they annoyed them?
He made an account just to follow his mystery poster, not sure yet why he was interested to see what they would post next.
Less than two days later, and Micky's phone notified him of another post.
"Dear Samantha Rudbeckia, your obnoxious laughter is driving me insane. Can't you see how annoying you are? Knock it off."
That was it?! That was enough to set you off? Laughter? Micky paused mid step, still staring down at his phone. Something felt off about his face. It hurt.
It was pretty easy to find anonymousXnightmare in his school. Micky picked up a map of the university, and mapped out the paths of the three people targeted. They ran into a lot of different students throughout their day. But they only ran into a couple of people who openly seemed to hate them, and only one of those people was a student named (Reader). (Reader), who constantly appeared as though they would collapse at any moment, the hollows under their eyes so dark they looked sickly. (Reader), who despite being borderline anemic, was very sneaky, and very good and being unnoticeable despite their extreme appearance. Unfortunately for them, they had someone watching them as closely as they watched their victims bullies. Micky watched as they stealthily snapped photos of students from around corners, how they seemed to blend into the background and nobody noticed them hiding in waiting.
Micky felt ashamed for ever thinking you were lame. You were.. cute.
The way you crouched like a bug, hunched over like a roly poly scared of being picked up. The way you bit your dry lips in anger to the point they bled.
Micky's face hurt more and more. Every time he saw (Reader) a pain he had never felt before would strain at his cheeks, and his face would feel hot all over. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of himself in his reflection in a window that Micky realized he was smiling. He never knew that smiling hurt. But he couldn't stop it.
Pictures and videos of Samantha and her married professor were posted online, and Micky was excited to know what (Reader's) face would look like when they reaped the fruits of their labor. But when he snuck into their classroom, zooming in on their exhausted face with his phone's camera, he felt a new emotion seeing that (Reader) was just as annoyed as they always were. A hard pit fell from his ribs into his lower stomach. He was disappointed.
Why aren't you happy? You won. You should be rejoicing right now.
He felt conflicted and confused. Like an octopus was throwing a tantrum in his abdomen, squirming uncomfortably. And it ruined his day. Micky couldn't focus on any of his classes, and the rest of his day was like a foggy dream. What was it about (Reader) that attracted him to them so much?
A cute young woman with smooth black hair approached Micky, a dark blush complimenting her picture perfect face.
"Um, excuse me? Excuse me? Excuse me?"
Micky snapped out of his thoughts, turning his gaze down towards the beautiful person. Her rosey lips were slightly upturned in a posed way.
She's smiling.
Micky internally verbalized it. The same way he did whenever he saw anyone smiling. It never looked good. Smiling was so awkward, and strange. People loved seeing others smiling, and smiled when they were happy, but it always reminded Micky of how not one of them he was.
"Hi! My name is Maggie."
I don't care.
"We have econ together?"
"Okay."
Why was seeing her smile make her look fake, inhuman, alien? Just like everyone else. Then why was Micky so let down seeing (Reader's) lukewarm reaction to their victory?
"I was wondering, I mean, (laughs), a group of us are going out for drinks later, and we, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us.."
She giggled nervously, fiddling her fingers and biting her lip. The image of (Reader) practically eating their lower lip was triggered like a trap. This woman, whose name wasn't worth remembering, made Micky feel nothing. The uncanny feeling of speaking with a living mannequin or an advanced AI. Her movements weren't natural, her smile was just a contraction of muscles. Then, like an epiphany, Micky realized all at once what made (Reader) so special.
Maybe, it wasn't that everyone else was alien, but Micky. Micky was the only one who never fit in. The only one who didn't feel emotions or connect with others like everyone else could. And there was a bug walking around in human clothes, barely staying awake in class and casually ruining peoples' lives simply because they annoyed them. (Reader) wasn't a human either, just like Micky. That's why they didn't seem happy with their victory. Why would a human bring them joy?
Micky's lips pulled tight, smiling brightly at the young woman before walking away without saying a word.
You're the first person to make me feel, because you're just like me. Right, (Reader)? If no one but you can make me feel, then no one but me should be able to make you smile!
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
(Reader) slouched over their laptop, their messy hair pulled back in a top bun just to keep their untrimmed bangs out of their eyes in the privacy of their dorm, eating another cup of noodle while reading all of their "fan mail". Samantha wasn't getting kicked out like they had hoped, but Professor what's-his-nuts did get canned, so hopefully when Samantha comes back to class she'll be too busy sobbing "woe is me" to find anything funny.
Ba-ding♪
A private message popped up from an account with an automated username.
(Reader) snorted so hard a noodle went up into their sinuses.
user01793664544001: I know who you are <3
"Ah-ow! God damn!"
anonymousXnightmare: Who the fuck is this?
user01793664544001: ur prince charming <3
anonymousXnightmare: Don't fuck with me
user01793664544001: come find me
"Watch me, bitch."
Looking up IP addresses is a lot easier than people make it seem. It doesn't take a genius hacker to doxx someone. Of course, (Reader) goes above and beyond, often following assholes for months to collect evidence of their douche baggery. (Reader) got an address in less time than it took to finish their noodles, and took down their hair, quickly setting out to start getting information on their newest "bully".
The address took them to another dorm across campus. How dumb are they? (Reader) faux chuckled, feeling superior to this newest dick. No one was quite as smart as them.
As they crept through the building, no one payed them any attention as they began taking notes on the residents. It had to be one of these losers.
They didn't have a chance to fight back, as they passed one of the rooms the door opened and pulled them inside faster than they had a chance to scream. The man who abducted (Reader) wrestled them to the floor, panting heavily.
(Reader) glared up at the handsome stranger, smiling down at them in a creepy way, his cheeks twitching like he had never smiled before, like his face hurt from the small action. His face was pink and he was sweating, panting with a feverish moisture glazing his eyes.
"Aren't you happy? You found me~"
"G-Get off of me, you pervert!" (Reader) attempted to kick the kidnapper off of them.
This wasn't the answer he was looking for. His smile fell briefly before bouncing back.
"You're just upset because you don't know me yet. Don't worry, it took me a while to realize you and I were the same species as well, so don't worry. I'll wait, I'll wait for you to realize you love me too..."
He rambled quickly, pressing harder against (Reader's) body. A strange noise squeaked out of his throat as he seemed startled, (Reader) feeling a bulge form against their upper thigh.
"Ah, I'll wait.. I'll wait for you to love me too.. but I need you to do something for me while I wait.."
Micky stuck his fingers in (Reader's) mouth, pulling their dry lips out till they bled across his skin.
"Smile for me..."
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inlovewithpandora · 10 months
Text
- Party Girl -
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Pairing: Protective!Miles!42 x fem!drunk!reader
Request: [ anonymous ] Protective 42 Miles when his girl calls him high or drunk (she's at a party and he didn't know) so he goes to pick her up and some dude is trying to get at her?
Synopsis: When Miles gets a post notification that you posted something on your story he assumes it’s a selfie of you but that idea flies out the window when he sees a bottle of alcohol in your hand.
Content: Aged!up Miles, fluff, angst (if you squint hard enough), established relationship (bf & gf), mention of alcohol/drinking, reader being under the influence
Author’s Note: Thank you for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy and that it meets your expectations! This was a really good request and I enjoyed writing it because I’ve been wanting to write drunk!reader for a while. Let me know what you think by sending an anonymous ask or comment if you feel comfortable!
Word Count: 1.1k
Glossary: Princesa - Princess
Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules before requesting! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!
Links: Navigation || Atsv Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist
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As Miles lays across his bed, closing the text thread with one of his friends, he gets a notification from Instagram saying that you added something to your story. He assumes it’s one of your normal posts, a boomerang of yourself, a picture of you and him, or a daily quote with a song playing, but when he opens your story, it turns out to surprisingly be the complete opposite.
It is a picture of a bottle of Pink Whitney in your hand. His face scrunches up at the sight, wondering why you have a bottle of alcohol. He clicks over to see what else you’ve posted and he’s met with the sight of you pouring the bottle of alcohol into your mouth and his ears are filled with the sound of your friends cheering you on and loud music playing in the background.
To say Miles was baffled would be an understatement. You’ve never been a person who liked to drink or party, you would always rather stay home or invite Miles over so both of you could spend time together, thus to see this side of you, he’s caught him off guard. He immediately goes to your text thread and his fingers begin to rapidly type away.
Watching your friends dance with each other while pouring yourself another drink for the night, you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You reach for your phone and check your messages.
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You forgot that you didn’t tell Miles that you were coming to the party since your friends told you about it so last minute. You put your cup down and try to text him back, but you can barely see the words let alone coordinate your fingers properly to type out the sentence you want, so you decide to call him.
Once you press the call button, it only rings one time before you hear Miles' voice. “Princesa, are you okay?” He asks, making sure that you are okay before he starts bombarding you with different questions.
“I’m fine, baby! I’m just-” you hiccup, “having fun!” He can tell that you are drunk by your slurring words and the slowed pace you are talking in. As you try to focus on hearing Miles talking, your attention span plummets and you begin to hype up your friend.
Miles knows the alcohol is coursing through your veins and is making you zone out and he’s trying his best to be patient and keep your focus on him so he could figure out where you are.
“Bae, I need you to focus and tell me-” He starts carefully before you interrupt him. “You know you didn’t tell me hi when you picked up the phone, that’s so rude, Miles. You didn’t say it in your texts either.”
“My fault. Hey, baby. Now can you please tell me where you are?”
“If you say it a little nicer I’ll tell you where I’m at.” You say in a singsong tone which makes Miles groan under his breath and rub his temples. After he says it in a tone you approve of, you finally proceed to tell him the address of the party you’re at.
He immediately gets out of bed, puts his shoes on, grabs his keys, and makes his way out of the door.
“I’m coming to pick you up, okay? I’ll be there in fifteen. I’ll text you when I’m outside.” Miles gets in his car, puts his key in the ignition, and drives to where you are.
All in while you decide to take at least one last shot before he comes and spoils your fun.
When Miles pulls up to the house, he jumps out his car and walks into the party. He looks around but doesn’t locate you which makes him worry. He begins to barge through the crowd of people, trying to find you. His eyes scan the whole room and he doesn’t see you in the front, but he gets to hear your voice.
“I’m so-sorry, but I have a boyfriend that kills people.” You say in a giggly tone with slurred words as you talk to some random guy who has been asking for your number for the past few minutes.
“I don’t care about him, all I want is yo digits.” The guy presses you, pulling out his phone and handing it to you so you could type your number into it.
When Miles sees that his blood boils. He knows that the guy is trying to take advantage of you because you are under the influence. He immediately marches over to where you are and pulls you away from the guy.
“You heard what the fuck she said, she has a boyfriend.” Miles towers over the guy, yelling and pointing at him, making some threats just to make sure his point gets across that you’re taken and that he needs to leave you alone.
When the guy hears the bass in Miles’s voice and watches how his eyes slowly turn pitch black, he stutters out an apology and walks away. You just stand behind Miles, not paying attention or aware of anything that is going on until you feel him gently pull you by your arm.
“Miles! You’re here, I missed you!” You plant millions of messy kisses on his face before throwing your arms around his shoulders and hugging him. He is about to ask if you are okay, but by that greeting, he already knows you are totally fine.
“Let’s go home princesa and then you can tell me all about your night.” He grabs your hand and begins to escort you out of the party, but along the way your feet get wobbly due to the heels you're wearing. You let go of his hand and begin to fumble with the strings of your heels so you can take them off. However due to the alcohol, your hand-eye coordination isn’t the best.
Miles notices you struggling, so he decides to pick you up bridal style and walk out. The walking distance between the party to his car is short, but it gives you enough time to fall asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest and your small snores ringing through his ears.
Once he makes it to the car, he somehow manages to open the door and carefully place you inside without waking you up. He closes the door gently and walks to the driver's side and gets in. When he places the key into the ignition, he looks over at you and thinks about how he can’t get over how adorable you look sleeping. He leans over and kisses your forehead then begins driving to your apartment.
He knows that he is going to have plenty of questions for you in the morning, but for tonight he is going to let you sleep the alcohol out of your system.
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I hope you enjoyed❤️!
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Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon
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©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.
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