#he's doing his best but gear is expensive

[cobaltfluff]

the only part time job I actually wanted

[smashwolfen]

hello i am so in awe that you have collected all the pokémon games (i finished my collection of 3ds ones a bit ago but i considered a lot of the other ones out of reach) and i was wondering how long it took? i know especially the older remakes are insane to get so i’m super curious

(This got incredibly long i'm so sorry for the wall of text my guy)

In relation to this post

Hello there! :D

Believe me, I still can't believe it myself that I managed to pull it off considering who I had to get ahold of! Been happy dancing to myself ever since I got the last game~

God it feels like it was longer ago honestly, but I only really began trying to finish the Pokemon collection just a year ago! Had to check back in my DMs with my buddy, but the day I began to seriously search for the rest of the authentic generations was May 5th 2023, the day I discovered my copy of Platinum was a repoduction, ya watch ONE video regarding reals vs. fakes and it all went down from there when I looked over the ones I owned already, luckily Platinum was the only one who was fake ;w;

I had passively over the years been picking up games as I went, but from that day last year til recently I looked where I could for the games I was missing, to be fair I had about half the collection to begin with just from growing up and finding ones out and about, I only needed to find the pair of whatever I owned already, besides gen 5.... since I somehow never played gen 5 growing up. Funny enough I didn't have to look too far, every single game I found had all been local! Facebook marketplace saved me big time I just had to wait and compare prices til I was happy with what I was willing to pay for! I scrutinized every single copy I got my hands on and triple checked everything before I was satisfied XD

The 3DS titles were very easy to get thankfully, and the same goes for you too good on ya for getting your 3DS ones! Hardest for sure were gens 3-5, specifically ALL of gen 5 they are the WORST to get since no one wants to sell them and they're required to be able to move anyone forward to the 3DS and then to the Switch! I think It'd be easier to list who I owned and who I hunted for in the year of the search.

So I owned:

Red, Blue, Yellow, Gold, Silver, Crystal, Leafgreen, Emerald, Diamond, Pearl, X, Alpha Sapphire, Moon, UltraSun, Sword, Violet and Arceus (some I had gotten as gifts growing up and others I had gotten through yardsaling and thrifting by chance as I grew up, Emerald was 70 at a yardsale!)

The ones I got from the year of the hunt:

Ruby, Sapphire, FireRed, Platinum, Heartgold, SoulSilver, Black, White, Black 2, White 2, Y, Omega Ruby, Sun, UltraMoon, Shield, Lets Go Pikachu, Lets Go Eevee (I DID own Eevee before but traded it in before the hunt) Scarlet, Brilliant Diamond, and Shining Pearl.

Now knowing who I had to get, we all know it costs a pretty penny, so I essentially sold things myself to fund the hunt, like my amiibos I didn't really need or want, a handful of random collectable things I picked up and kept over the years (notably a masterchief helmet from the legendary collection I got for free like 10 years ago lol) and some odds and ends I didn't need anymore and to declutter the home! I think out of my own pocket I only paid maybe 40 bucks total so I paid for everyone that way! It was all mostly luck finding everyone and keeping an eye on marketplace, and some of them I had gotten from folks I knew! Black and Black 2 actually came from one of my managers at work who sold them to me for insanely cheap, and Sapphire I got for free as I mentioned in the games post XD

If you do try to go for the complete collection, I say have a gameplan for how to pay and build that piggybank of funds, go for what you can afford! So if you see a game without a case thats usually better, you dont NEED a case or have a game CIB really, a bunch of mine dont have a case or box and I'm alright with that! Look locally at second hand stores, vintage ones, marketplace or any other local yardsale or fleamarket type thing you may have in your area, and I say this with caution, but if you HAVE to, you can consider ebay, but I strongly suggest not to when it comes to the games. I had originally tried to get a Brilliant Diamond copy from there and well, dude never sent it at all and got my money (ebay fully refunded me but that still bites). And finally get well versed in learning how to authenticate to the best of your abilities, 3DS and switch I don't think can be faked but everything else can be! I used this as my guide to figure out who was real and fake in my search and it worked very very well! Twas my bible of knowledge

End of the day it didn't take as long as one would think, but luck played a HUGE roll in this endeavor, I was smart with my money, and I was very very VERY stubborn and wanted them all XD

If you go for the complete collection like I did then I wish you the best of luck my friend! And thank you very much for the ask! It kinda got away from me while typing but yeah thats the story and process of how I got all the main series titles!

[ruggiezz]

— MOST TO LEAST LIKELY TO GO TO MCDONALDS WITH YOU AT 3 AM : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters that would accompany you to mcdonalds at 3 am

[characters] all (romantic) + ortho (platonic)

[disclaimer] this post talks about food a lot and mentions of unhealthy food (in vil's and riddle's part)

[extra] i'm having way too much fun writing character's reactions

── Most likely

★﹕LILIA VANROUGE

Bold of you to assume he was sleeping in the first place. Lilia was playing the equivalent of Overwatch in Twisted Wonderland when you suddenly asked him to go to the nearest McDonald's. He agreed instantly, and now you're both on a date, with you eating fries and Lilia eating a strawberry sundae and a cheeseburger..

★﹕ORTHO SHROUD (platonic)

He agreed instantly. Can robots even feel tired in the first place? Ortho will search on the internet for coupons and promos, but first let him equip his eating gear; he wants to eat too. Everything for his best friend. By the way, he wants to buy something for Idia too.

★﹕ROOK HUNT

Rook got out of bed even before you even mentioned you wanted to go out, he woke up when he felt you were awake. Rook is a light sleeper; he can even feel when you wake up to go to the bathroom. If you really want a meal at McDonald's, who is he to say no? It makes him happy to see you happy, but he will stare while drinking his strawberry shake. Not a "I'm judging you" stare, but a "I like to see you enjoy your meal" stare.

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA

He has probably eaten McDonald's at least once because Lilia bought the whole of Diasomnia burgers. Alright, you're both going. Yes, he's still a little confused over why you would crave a really cheap burger at 3 am, but Malleus doesn't even care; the burgers are good and he enjoys indulging in human customs, plus he gets to see you smile. The only bad thing is that the employees got the fright of their lives when they saw the literal prince of Briar Valley enter the restaurant.

★﹕SILVER

Still sleepy, he agreed. There are times when he randomly awakes during the night, so he might as well spend it with you, even if it was at a fast food restaurant at 3 am. He'll order an iced coffee and some fries and listen to you while you speak about whatever comes to mind. You'll both have to make it quick though, he may fall asleep there, and you both need to get back before classes start.

★﹕DEUCE SPADE

He didn't even understand what you were saying; his mind was still foggy from being woken up so late. He said yes, not knowing what he was agreeing with, but a few minutes later he realized what he agreed to. Deuce, not wanting to have gotten your hopes up only for him to say no, got up and accompanied you anyway. He still enjoyed himself though, as long as he is with you, he's happy.

★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI

He's tired because of how many errands Leona made him do yesterday, but you know what? He will still go. Food is food, and he could never refuse it. Leona lets him grab his credit card anyway, so order whatever you want, Leona will pay, even if he doesn't know that. It's not like he checks his credit card's expenses, so don't worry about it.

★﹕JACK HOWL

When he confessed to you a few months ago, he didn't expect that would mean signing up for you waking him up in the middle of the night, asking him to accompany you to eat fast food outside of campus. Still, he's your boyfriend, and he can't let you go alone, it's dangerous. Even if he doesn't feel like ordering anything, he will sit there with you until you finish your meal, chatting with you in the meantime.

★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA

You're lucky he loves you too much; he would have said no if you were another person. So now Ace is sitting at McDonald's, almost falling asleep while eating some nuggets. That one song they keep replaying will haunt him in his dreams; it got stuck in his head for like, a week. Riddle reprimanded him the next day for falling asleep during history class.

★﹕CATER DIAMOND

Out of everything he could have expected a person to say at 3 am, it certainly wasn't "I want to go to McDonald's". Cater takes a selfie with you inside and uploads it to his Magicam story, the close friends one, so Riddle doesn't realize he wasn't at the dorm. He still has no idea how you came up with this, but ok, it was for the funsies.

★﹕JADE LEECH

You're certainly unpredictable, aren't you? Jade stared at you for a good minute until he just got up, got changed, and went with you. Floyd has done weirder stuff during one of his mood swings; what harm can going to McDonald's do? He doesn't feel like cooking that late anyway. Just don't tell Azul you're both going to the competition, okay?

★﹕EPEL FELMIER

He had you repeat what you said twice to make sure he was hearing you correctly. You want to do what? Let him go back to sleep, please. Okay, whatever, he will accompany you, but make it quick. At least that's what he said before spending the next two hours chatting with you while eating. He sadly got caught by Vil when he came back. Rook snitched.

★﹕SEBEK ZIGVOLT

No, he has to make sure nobody attacks Malleus while he's sleeping. But with some reassurance from Lilia (and him asking Sebek to bring him a burger) and his love for you, he decided to accompany you. He'll ask for the biggest burger since he has a big appetite. He did enjoy it at the end; 10/10 would do it again (but he won't say that out loud).

★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM

He doesn't mind that you woke him up, and he would like to go, but there's a small problem: he isn't allowed to go anywhere without Jamil, which means he would need to wake him up. Jamil wouldn't be happy about that, and Kalim doesn't want to bother him either. So you both just order takeout and give the delivery guy a very generous tip.

★﹕IDIA SHROUD

Idia was awake, but he really doesn't want to go, and he's also farming for an event. Great, now he's craving McDonald's too. If you really want to go, you can have Ortho accompany you, but please bring him a chicken sandwich and some fries. You can use his debit card to pay.

★﹕TREY CLOVER

... What? What did you even dream about to crave McDonalds so late at night? Trey says you both can go on the weekend if you really want to, but go back to sleep, please. There's an important exam tomorrow, and you'll both be in trouble if you suddenly fall asleep in the middle of it.

★﹕FLOYD LEECH

He was not in a good mood after being woken up in the middle of the night. Floyd won't let you go, squeezing you so hard that you can't even move away from the bed. You're not going anywhere the whole night, and if you still want the meal, you can order some in the Mostro Lounge tomorrow.

★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

It's 3 am, what the heck. Leona says Ruggie can buy you some tomorrow; ask for as much as food as you want, but not at 3 am. He will fall asleep on top of you, so you can't even move, just in case you try to sneak out while he sleeps.

★﹕JAMIL VIPER

No, please, he's tired. He did so much work yesterday: laundry, cooking, folding clothes, tutoring Kalim, paperwork for an upcoming event, and preparing for an exam. He just wants to rest for at least a few hours. Go back to sleep, please. He promises he'll cook you a burger with some fries tomorrow. His cooking is way superior to fast food anyway.

★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"No, that's unhealthy", he says. Somebody buy him a happy meal or something, Riddle has probably never eaten fast food in his life. Either way, there's class tomorrow, and he would never forgive himself if he arrived late to a lesson. So no, you aren't going anywhere.

★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Why would you want to eat at McDonalds when he has a literal restaurant? Are you trying to buy from the competition? Now Azul is offended at 3 am, so offended that he dragged you to the kitchen to make you a meal resembling the McDonald's one just to prove Mostro Lounge's food is better.

★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT

Excuse you? Not only did you interrupt his beauty sleep, but you want to go eat McDonald's'? It's 3 am, please go back to sleep or you'll get dark circles. Lack of sleep is bad for your skin, and he won't take the risk, much less to eat unhealthy food.

── Least likely

[whorekneecentral]

Sticky Fingers

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad!seb, seb referring to himself as daddy, cheesy flirting, oral (m!receiving), the use of daddy in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding kink, hint to pregnancy kink if you squint, creampie, a touch of cum play, finger sucking, mommy kink but in a joking way.

Word Count: 2,112

Author's Note: would it really be me if I didn't start it off with my favourite dilf on the planet?? happy holidays to everyone who celebrates in whatever way you do and to those of you who don't, I hope you have a wonderful winter season!!

merry smutmas series

--

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board. 

It had been a long year; Sebastian had been driving you mad as much as it was nice to have him home. A full year of retirement and Seb was making sure this holiday season was the best one yet.

Last year, after he retired, you had practically already gotten everything together for the holidays. Sebastian helped decorate and do activities with your daughter but this year, he was hands on from day one. He insisted you guys get a real tree as well as decorate the whole house from top to bottom. You couldn't count how many times he had you running to the store to pick up something for him and his newest holiday project.

Your daughter was upstairs in her bed, fast asleep with her messy blonde curls all scattered over the pillow when you checked on her. Sebastian had put her to bed while you had gone to take a shower.

Usually, you'd find him in bed by now or in the living room, finally working on the insanely long list of tv shows Charles had recommended to him over the years.

Tonight was different, the house was quiet and you couldn't seem to spot your husband anywhere as you made your way through the house.

A light peeked out from around the corner, the door to the basement slightly ajar and you pulled it open, slowly making your way downstairs.

You can see Sebastian from behind, the man freezes when he hears the creaking of the stairs. "It's just me," you announced, the man visibly relaxed, turning to smile at you.

"What are you doing down here?" You asked, finally making it down the stairs. "So secretive, are you jerking off?" You jokingly asked, Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Don't need to do that when I have you," he raises his eyebrows and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

"Whatever Seb," you laughed, "seriously, what are you doing down here?"

"Trying to wrap this," Sebastian steps to the side, revealing the massive box that was behind him. On the front was a photo of the doll house your daughter wanted.. the ridiculously expensive dollhouse that is. It's not that you two didn't get your daughter what she wanted but she had to earn it. Just because her father is who he is and the fact that he has money, doesn't mean she should get whatever she wants.

You raise her as a normal kid, not some spoiled brat who gets whatever they want.

You huffed, arms folded over your chest as you looked at your husband. "Sebastian, you didn't."

He glances between you and the dollhouse. "What?"

"Do you know how expensive that is?"

"Yeah duh, I bought it babe." He says as if he was stating the obvious, which he was.

He takes a step towards you, grabbing your arms to unfold them, "listen, I know you don't want me to just buy her whatever she wants but it's Christmas and she did really well on her first term report card, remember ?" Sebastian smiles at you, trying to justify his purchase.

You sigh, nodding. You always gave in, both he and his daughter knew as much.

You reach up, holding his face. "You're the best daddy a girl could ask for."

From the moment the words left your mouth, you could see the gears turning in his head. Sebastian's hands grab your ass, squeezing it when he leans in to give you a kiss. "I know I am," he whispers against your lips and you know he did not mean it in the same way you had said it.

Laughing, you lean back in your husband's arms. "Only you can make that dirty."

The man swings you in the direction of your couch, dropping you down on it before getting on top of you. "I'll show you dirty," he says, kissing you once again.

Your legs wrapped around your husband, holding him against you. Seb's lips are all over you, hands slipping between the two of you, pulling on the hem of his t-shirt until he stops to take it off.

"Don't look at me like that," he teases, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your stomach. "Like what?" You breathe, head tipped back into the cushions.

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I'd give you another baby right now, Sebastian."

The man freezes, looking up at you. There's a wicked smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. Sebastian moves to between your legs, settling there for a minute as he presses kisses along your bare skin, following the trail from your hip, down your thighs to between them.

Your hand tangles in his blonde curls, giving it a tug and pulling him off of you before he can get to what he really wants. The man's brows furrow, looking at you. "Sweetheart," he huffs, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your thighs.

You give him a shove back with your foot, sitting up. Sebastian watches as you move him to sit and you move from the couch to the floor. Seb reaches for the pillow, dropping in front of you so you'd have some sort of cushioning; he knows even though this was your idea, you'd blame him for sore knees tomorrow.

"You're sure?" He asks, watching as your manicured nails tugs on the strings on his sweats. "Absolutely," you say, your eyes fixed on him as your hands rub up his thighs.

Seb watches as you lick your hand, his head tips back and a soft moan slips out when you wrap your hand around him, moving it up and down slowly.

His eyes don't move from you, watching your every move. His lips parted slightly, as if he was going to say something but he can't bring himself to. You lean forward, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the other resting on his thigh. Sebastian groans, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you wrap your lips around him.

"God-" he breathed, his arm hung over the armrest and his head tipped back into the couch.

His eyes flutter shut when you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down. You glance up at your husband; eyes shut, his hand reaching down to tangle in your hair - pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

You move yourself up a bit, lips still around the tip and your hand quickly replaces where your mouth was. Sebastian finally opens his eyes, looking down at you again just as your tongue swirls around the tip.

His hips involuntarily buck upwards, forcing you down on him a little bit more. "Oh fuc- baby, do that- yeah." He's out of breath when he whispers the words.

That was a reaction only you could get out of him.

It was killing him but he forces himself to pull you up off of him, your hand wraps around his cock, moving it slowly. "What?" You asked, your tongue running across your bottom lip - the sight alone makes his cock twitch in your hand; you smile at the reaction.

"I was gonna cum."

"So? I'm not complaining." You tell him, leaning forward to rest your cheek on his thigh. Sebastian reaches down, his knuckles brushing over your cheek - red and flushed.

You looked so beautiful like this.

Sebastian smiles, "I know but.. what if I wanted to try for one more?"

"One more?" You asked, brows furrowed as you looked up at the man. It takes you a moment, your husband's glance was suggestive, as if you were meant to remember something - "Oh!" You giggled, sitting up straight now. "I mean.. yeah."

"So.." he grabs your arm, carefully pulling you up. "C'mere."

Climbing onto your husband's lap, you straddle him and your hand rests on his shoulder to balance yourself. Seb reaches between the two of you, his wrist brushing against your bare cunt when he goes to line himself up with you.

The slightest touch causes you to lean into him; watching him react to you sucking him off was enough to get you worked up.

"All for me?" He looks at you, kissing along your throat.

You hum, teasing him. "Not like I can say it's for your teammate anymore."

Sebastian smiles, his free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him. Your lips parted, his name slipped from between them. As much as he loved to hear you, he didn't want to wake up the sleeping child upstairs - he kissed you, muffling the sweet sounds coming from you.

You liked to be in control up to a certain point, Seb's hands rested on your hips as you bounced on his lap, setting the pace.

After a moment, Seb's hands begin to wander; this man could never settle, not even during sex. His hands move from your hips to the curve of your spine to the back of your neck, holding a firm grip there. You couldn't exactly move, not that you wanted too, but Sebastian forces you down, gently as always, to kiss you. You bite his bottom lip, giving it a gentle pull when he feels you clench around his cock.

"You're - fuck." he moans, making you giggle.

Your hand rests on his jaw, fingers tapping his stubble covered cheek. "I'm what, daddy?"

"You're evil," he mumbles, his hand on your lower back before he flips the two of you. You end up under him, legs wrapped around his hips.

A hand moves to behind his shoulder, your perfectly red nails dig into his pale skin, the marks you left matched the colour of your nails; very festive, you thought to yourself.

Seb's face is buried into the crook of your neck, kissing down to that one spot he knows drives you crazy. "Seb-" you cut yourself off with a moan when you feel his fingers on your clit.

"What was that?" He taunts, watching as your eyes close, back arched, his chest pressed to yours. His lips travel down to your chest, kissing over your tits and as far as he could go. Your nails dig into him once more, Seb feels you clench around him.

"Seb- I'm gonna, fuck-" you mumble and he hums in response, kissing along your jaw.

"Go on, I'm right here baby. C'mon, be good for me." He whispers, he grabs your hand, pulling it to rest on your lower stomach. "Can you feel that, hm? You'd look so pretty with a baby in you - fuck, drove me crazy last time."

You mumble something he doesn't quite catch but from the look on your face, you were going along with everything.

"Please Seb," your lips are on his, begging him for any and everything."

"Please what, sweetheart?" His eyes find yours, "what do you want? You want me to cum in you?"

"Let me make you a daddy again, Seb."

The man groans, your legs tightening around him. "Fuck, okay," he breathes, cheat heaving when you clench around him once more, the tighten knot in your lower stomach comes undone. You find yourself calling his name; the sound and sight of you was something Sebastian never wanted to forget. He finds himself following shortly after you, dropping down on top of you.

Seb moves off of you, pulling out in the process. A soft whimper slipping past your lips at the loss of fullness. He tsks, smiling to himself. His finger drags along your pussy, he watches how you react to his touch, pushing his finger into you to fuck what's slipping back into you.

Before you realize, his hands moved from between your legs to your lips. "Open," he tells you and you do, the man putting his finger between your lips, letting you suck it clean.

He smiles, watching in approval before you let his finger go with a pop. "Good girl," he whispers, holding your jaw when he kisses you.

Seb shifts the two of you, letting you cuddle into his side. His hand rubs along your side, your leg stretched out over his lap.

"You okay?"

"Perfect," you smile, your hand on his chest.

"Well, when we do get up-" he starts but you cut him off, already knowing where he's going. "I'll help you wrap it." You tell him, making him laugh.

"You're the best mommy a girl could ask for," he says and you make a face, laughing. "Doesn't work that way babe."

"Ew, no - I didn't mean like that, you freak."

"Oh shut up," you shook your head, reaching up to kiss your husband.

--

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[tteokdoroki]

somno w/ nagi 😞😞💔 he’s so spent and exhausted after the longest day of practice, but his body betrays itself as soon as you press back against his tall frame. he ruts into you, breathy in your ear and hard in his boxers, and it doesn’t take him long at all, not when you feel so warm and inviting and soft. but it’s alright, he can be motivated by the right things after all — and best believe the way you whimper for him so sweetly does it for him. fully awake now, he will make sure to take proper care of you, just like you always do to him, even when half asleep still :(

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— late night lovin' + seishiro nagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — nagi loves the way you look in his bed late night after practice. but he loves the way you crave him in your sleep even more.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, heavy smut, established relationship, somnophilia, dry humping, cockwarming, creampies, unprotected!sex, soft dom + pro player!nagi  not beta read ! - fem!reader.

⭑ words — 2.5K.

⭑ notes — thank u for indulging my brain rot, truly love him sm !! also first time writng him pls be kind and im sorry this took so long shbs! - m.list✩

seishiro nagi hates when practice runs late.

exhaustion settles into his bones far too quick for his liking, listening to feedback from ego and the others feels like a bore and he can hardly feel bothered to grab something to eat with the team on the way home. he just about manages to shower at the stadium before making it back and by the time he does— you’re there, in his bed like he wants you to be.

seishiro nagi loves to see you sprawled across his sheets after practice.

he’d given you a key to his place after deciding it was too much of a hassle for you to drive over after his training or for him to come pick you up — it was easier if you could make yourself at home. nagi forgoes turning on the lights as he enters the master bedroom, dropping his duffle bag at the entryway after noticing that you’d fallen asleep. probably while you were waiting for him.

you’re so pretty like this, peaceful, curled up amongst seishiro’s expensive cotton linens and duvet. adorable, wearing one of his older team jerseys – the tops of your perfect pudgy thighs just peeking out from under its material.

slipping into bed behind you is easy for seishiro nagi.

the white-haired striker strips off his gear layer by layer and crawls under the blankets to join you, his bare chest snug against your back and an arm slung over your waist lazily.

your response to his closeness is almost instantaneous, pressing yourself back against nagi and finding comfort in his presence behind you despite not being able to see him in the dark. “sei—“ you whimper, soft and needy, the tendrils of sleep still clinging onto you. so cute. nagi thinks you’re so fucking cute. searching for his warmth like this. even while you rest. 

you like how he smells, he remembers. that’s why you lean into him like he’s a safety net. why he showers using a body wash with a scent so delicate it could almost be fabric softener and why you wear his clothes whenever you have the chance. the smell of cedarwood and seishiro nagi is comforting to you, especially when he’s away.

not that he minds, not that it necessarily bothers the striker. he likes it, loves to see you bare the very symbol of his passion. the one thing he loves aside from you – soccer.

you visibly relax when he wraps another strong arm around your shoulders and squeezes you close, making you feel small and safe. your pout loses itself in the sleepy babbles that lay on on your lips and crease between your brows fades too. 

“sei…?”

“shhh, angel. s’just me,” nagi coos quietly, tucking his face into the back of your neck with his lashes fluttering against it. he just wants to sleep, fall away from the world with you but his body betrays him, annoyingly so. you’re too soft, too warm, to precious for nagi to resist and it’s a little bothersome that he can’t help it.

he’s hard before he even knows it, the heavy outline of his dick pressed against your pert ass– your body pulsing to life back into your boyfriend’s grip to get comfortable once more. he’s exhausted too but maybe it would help to fall asleep like this– if he wore himself down by grinding into you, dragging his hips back and forth, slow and steady so his erection slides through your cheeks from behind.

seishiro’s breathing gets a little heavier, hot and ragged against your bare skin, his grip on you tighter and his cock weighty and wet behind the fabric of his boxers. over the blood pumping through his ears, as full of adrenaline as it would be on the pitch, he hears you whimper out for him – a sound so sweet that he can’t ignore it.

you’ve always had some kind of hold over nagi, one that he can’t ignore. one that pushes him past his limits. the right thing is always able to motivate him, and the way you mewl out for him in your sleep, your body following his lead in a soft, sensual bump and grind is exactly the kind of thing that drives him forward.

you make things a little easier for him, you always do, stretching a leg forward so nagi has better access to the treasure between your thighs. his reward for working so hard today. “ngh…s-sei…” you mumble again, back arching into his chest on its own accord when he pulls his chubby cock out, smearing his arousal along your backside and right over the crotch of your panties.

“keep quiet pretty girl,” the white haired player whispers, as if there’s anyone around to hear you both. maye its that selfishness that’s been instilled in him, the ego, per say but he wants to keep you to himself. “i’ll take care of it from here, ‘kay?”

every ounce of you, every sound you make, every twitch and shift of your body to keep up with his. it’s his to keep. you’re his to keep.

and seishiro nagi loves that.

“uh-huh,” you’re awake now but just barely, parting your thighs to make room for your boyfriend while he grinds into the heat of your core with the same energy you’d expect from a dog in rut. “y’so big sei…” you gasp like you’ve taken a bullet to the heart when nagi’s seedy tip brushes so deliciously against your clothes and swollen clit – his movements precise yet lax, his breath behind you hot, ragged yet soft as it coasts over your skin. 

“mm, you can take it…”

“m-more, need more. s-sei—!”     

“said to keep quiet, angel.” nagi grunts while his fingers dance up to tap at your lips. “gimme your mouth. c’mere.” you part them like a good girl, dazed as you follow nagi’s needy command and let him slide two digits against your tongue, keeping your mouth pacified and full. it would be enough to put you back to sleep if you wanted.

you’re so good even when you’re barely conscious, sucking on nagi’s fingers and letting him have his way with you. he’s getting annoyed, not with you. never with you. there’s just too many obstacles in his way, too much interfering with reaching his goal and making you feel good. 

too many layers of clothes, too many blankes and it’s really starting to piss him off. 

“lift your leg, ‘m gonna get these clothes out of the way. what a bother.” seishiro pants wetly into the junction between your neck and shoulder. he works a hand between your bodies, not stopping the lazy roll of his hips from behind, and kicks off the blanket. his sweats are to follow, then your shirt is pulled up enough for his large palm to settle on your tummy, just above the hem of your underwear.

nagi lets out a satisfied hum once your panties are off. you’re so wet for someone so tired but pride bristles in his chest– knowing that only he can get you sticky and soaked like this even when you’re tiptoeing the line between sleeping and being awake. 

he wastes no more time, running the length of his creamy cock through the slickness of your puffy folds before easing himself past your fluttering entrance – taking him so well and so easily. he stills for a moment, a shudder shooting down his spine because nagi can never quite get used to having your warmth wrapped around him while your cute little cunt drools down his dick.

seishiro plants wet, open mouthed kisses across your shoulders and neck, hooking his arm under your leg before he starts to move– revelling in your squeals of pleasure that echo around his fingers. “‘mph…angel, so…t-tight,” the words are stuttered, but drawn out in a low and sexy tone that makes you clench down hard. just catching on nagi’s cockhead each time it pulls out of you.”s’not fair. you’re not…fuck, you’re not fair t’me angel.”

even though he’s set the pace, slothully fucking up into your gooey insides, balls tapping lightly at the curve of your ass– you still have an ungodly amount of control over nagi, making his large body curl over yours and reducing him to a sex-crazed mess, a mop of sweaty white hair and muffled moans. 

he chases your soaked, salacious pussy impulsively, hips twitching up to meet the back and forth of your own– bearing down on the spongy spot inside of you that makes you go wild.

the world around you both grows hotter and hotter, nagi practically drooling against your back while his fingertips on his freehand sink into your fleshy thighs to leave their mark— tugging you back onto his dick every time he pulls out, only to sink back in. “feels good. so warm. keep me inside, pretty girl,” he tells in a dreamy sigh, you and through the fog of your sleep, squeezing around the thickness at nagi’s base where he stretches you open. 

your boyfriend rewards you with the same treatment, giving you more of what you crave and buries himself up to the hilt— deep within your velvet walls, smearing precum along your most sensitive spots. you gargle around his fingers, happy but drowsy and force yourself to circle your ass back onto nagi’s cock so that you lose your minds together.

lust sparks between your sweat drenched bodies in the dead of night, accompanied by the symphony of wet slaps and sticky skin on skin. it’s intoxicating how your cunt squelches with every thrust and languid jut from his slender hips. nagi is lazy and loving, desperate and hungry for the prize of your pleasure.  

“sei. w’na cum,” you bleat, needier and more aroused than before when he finally pulls his digits from your drooling mouth. the white haired striker streaks your viscous salvia across your chin and down the front of your body until he hits the pulsing nub between your ruined pussy lips.

his eyelashes flutter right behind your ear, the striker’s low moans echoing into them and sending dopamine in a hot rush across your sleepy brain. arousing it. “so soon? just a little longer…s-shit… ‘m not there yet.”

truth be told, it wouldn’t take much more for nagi to cum— there’s too much going on that overwhelms him. the glisten of his cock as it escapes the snugness of your sloppy sex, the way you cry out for him, the mental image of your face that he can’t see. how your expression is probably twisted into something so delirious with ecstasy.

he could cream your insides right now, fill you up until it’s leaking out of you, staining your thighs and the sweater of his that you wear…but instead he pulls back the hood of your clit— circling the rough pad of his thumb into the sensitive little bud just to draw it out. make the night last longer. 

“o-oh fuck! sei!” your voice is broken and husky, making his skin flush and his dick throb within the embrace of your sluice and addictive walls. you’re barely awake and you’ve got the white- haired soccer player fucked out beyond comprehension. “f-faster.” 

“nuh-uh, wait f’me angel. please.” if you beg for him any more, especially with that tone, he might burst. give you his load before he’s done toying with you, spreading the filthy mix of your arousals over your clit in the shape of his name— with the hopes of bringing you closer to your high. “wan’ you creamin’ on me first. gotta hold it, pretty girl. you can do that f’me, right? f-fuck…” he rambles into the dark. 

there’s a burn to backs of your thighs where nagi’s sweatpants have rubbed you raw while he fucks you raw— his shaft and it’s pretty blue veins coated in a white froth from your tight little hole. but you don’t care, you’re too brainless to even think about caring— babbling your praises, blindly reaching behind you for the dip in your boyfriend’s hips to pull him forward, use it as leverage to fuck you deeper like you want. 

so you’re groping at him and he’s groping at you, lost in the twilight zone—fucking languidly against the sheets. the circles on your clit become rougher, tighter just like you do around seishiro who moans loud and proud against your ear, tongue sliding along the skin behind it. 

it’s all open mouthed mewls and wondering hands, fat droplets of arousal running down your thighs and precum against your weeping slit. you’re both messes, passionate and tired and hungry for what you can take from one another. nagi’s moans grow higher and higher in octave until they nearly rival your own and the way he so ravenously pounds into you starts to falter.

“sei, ‘m there…t-there!” you warn him through shaky breaths, the coil in your stomach that threatens to unwind setting you on high alert.  you feel your impending orgasm burn at your pelvis, tickle your spine and it only spurs nagi on— rolling his hips just right, cantering into you from behind with his balls soaked in your juices. 

“yeah, yeah…yeah…i know. ‘m g’na cum for you mhm… angel. d’ya want it? s-say you wan’ it.” whines as if you’ll say no to him but doesn’t give you the choice. his large, lean body anchors you down on his cock as it bullies it’s way through your blistering hot walls to grind against that one special spot that makes you see stars. seishiro doesn’t let up, how can he? when you claw at his ass and his waist and beg him to go deeper. 

your orgasm breaks the surface first, waves of your sweet nectar gushing from your slick sex so fast it almost forces nagi out of you. you squeal and he chokes on a staggered breath, every ripple of your cunt dragging him by the ankle towards his own high as he fucks you through your own. nagi’s load pours into your ravaged cunt as if the floodgates had been opened— warm and viscous as it seeps from your puffy folds, painting you in the shade of him. 

fatigue sinks it’s fangs into seishiro as he grinds the last of his seed into you, making sure it sticks— shallowly thrusting into you until you both come back down to earth. he loosens hold on you, but only just, the weight of his large frame thrown over you as you catch your breath together. 

“w-welcome home sei,” you hum, rolling over to face him, smiling as your boyfriend loses the fight to sleep before reaching up to twirl your fingers through his baby hairs. a gesture that always helps him sleep faster, that you always reward him with at the end of a long day. “missed you.” 

“thanks angel, don’ go missin’ me when ‘m right here.” nagi grumbles, clinging onto you, exhausted— if he weren’t wrecking your shit mere moments ago. “now shh, c’mere sleep ‘n with me.” with that, you’re wrapped in his arms, safe and peaceful once again. 

and there’s nothing seishiro nagi loves more.

[bigfatbimbo]

Hazbin Hotel characters on Valentine’s day

Lucifer would go all out and probably too far. He would literally be showering you in gifts left and right and never taking his attention off you all day. You need a back massage? He’s on it. You’re hungry? He’ll bake brownies. When you tell him that this isn’t the point of Valentine’s day and you reciprocate some of the attention, he feels super guilty. But you shower him in gifts just the same to make sure he feels special and loved, which he does. In fact he probably cries. Still, he would definitely get you flowers but like EVERY flower he can think of. You won’t be able to walk through your house. Date night for sure, and it would be insanely expensive and pretentious. Only the best for you though. Although sex would be a bonus at the end, it’s not really on his mind, as he is more focused on the romance aspect.

Velvette would be definitely less giving than Lucifer. In fact, she’s expecting you to do all of that and more. Absolutely overjoyed when you get her flowers, fancy jewelry, or breakfast in bed. She is going to expect these gifts periodically throughout the day, actually. However, I do think she would get you something. Maybe she would make a custom shirt or outfit for you, or post a very long appreciation post with very flattering photos. Although it’s not as much your gifts, it’s her way of showing she cares! Make sure to cuddle with her all day though. Better yet, just don’t leave her side. Actually, just don’t stop touching her period. No matter where she goes, keep your hand on her waist or back at all times. It’s valentine’s day so of course everyone should know that you’re hers.

Vox isn’t super big on Valentine’s day, so no crazy gestures are to be expected. He will however send you losts of roses, curtesy of voxtech drones, thank you very much. If anything, I can see him sending a lot of voxtech gifts in general, a new phone, new headphones, etc etc. Now, when he gets off work I could see a small slow dancing session as he is from the 50s so that’s probably peak romance for him. I do think he is expecting something in return though. Not necessarily flowers or new tech gear, although those would be very nice. Maybe like his favorite chocolates or something because let’s be real, he needs to be romanced properly. Now, unlike Lucifer, he probably is expecting sex. He would treat you very well up until that point, however. After a couple rounds I think he’d probably just light a couple candles and snuggle into you to watch some TV or something relaxing like that. Preferably with a glass of wine.

[coco-loco-nut]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Pairing: None

Summary: Being a woman in F1 has it's challenges, especially when you are constantly seen as a threat

A/n: McLaren history revision, actually, a lot of it might not make complete logical sense, just ignore that. i’m not great at angst

requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist

_________

You've scared everyone in the F1 world since you started driving in 2014 for McLaren, more dominant than Max Verstappen, the only driver other than Lewis Hamilton to challenge you. Your aggressive driving style and ability to get the most out of your car has lead you to three championships. Men don’t like that.

You are in a bit of a slump this year after moving to Mercedes, not having won one of the first three races, but you are poised for attack, ready to take your place at the top.

“Daddy, who’s that?” you hear a little girl ask as you walk to the paddock.

“Y/n L/n, we don’t like her,” his fragile masculinity practically yells the comment into your ears. With a smirk you look at the pair, walking over and bending to the little girls level.

“What’s your name?” you ask, your voice bordering on being sickly sweet.

“Sarah,” she squeaks, eyes wide with fascination. You remove your team hat and pull out a sharpie from your pocket, signing your hat.

“Don’t let any man tell you you can’t be better than the boys. You can do anything, you’re a girl,” you smile, putting the hat on her head. You wave over your assistant. “Get her sizes and buy her some team gear, charge it to me,” you tell the assistant, who eagerly nods. Of course, the F1 social team caught the incident and posted it.

“Y/n! How does it feel to be in a slump, as some are calling it? Some fans are even calling you washed. Quite sad isn’t it,” one reporter asks.

“You guys keep saying I am in a slump, or I’m being replaced by younger drivers. My bare hands paved their paths, you don’t get to tell me about sad. If you wanted my career to be dead so bad, you should’ve just said so,” you roll your eyes. Nothing makes you feel more alive than driving, but annoying the media is a close second.

“What about your move to Mercedes next year? Why switch?” another reporter asks. Couldn’t you just get to your motorhome without being hounded by reporters for once?

“It was a mutual decision, it was time for us to part,” you walk away, reflecting on the last few months.

You hadn’t planned your exit from McLaren to Mercedes, the scandal regarding your exit being contained by NDAs. You had punched one of the engineers who made a sexist joke at your expense. You promptly decided you didn’t want to be there anymore, especially when they didn’t fire the engineer.

“I feel bad that this is how it has to happen,” Zak said at the end of last season.

“You don’t get to tell me you feel bad, if you actually did he would’ve been fired and I wouldn’t have to leave,” You told him, visibly upset.

“It was one joke and he was reprimanded. You don’t have to leave,” Zak says, you sharply inhale.

“It wasn’t one joke. It had been ongoing for years, it’s a wonder it took me this long to break. What did you want me to do? Laugh until I cry?” you asked Zak, who seemed shocked.

“Then I truly am sorry, I’ll launch an investigation to see why it wasn’t reported to me before. You will have always have a friend here,” Zak tells you, a small comfort.

“Thank you,” you give him a small smile. You spend the whole offseason steeling yourself and working to be the best driver you can be. You stayed longer at the gym and sent more time on the sim.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Daniel asked one day over a glass of wine, he’s known you since you both were karting, and he’s watched you spiral the past few years. Daniel is your best, and one your few friends.

“It’s so hard being a woman in F1. I am a completely different person than I was before I joined,” Daniel doesn’t comment, he knows you felt like a caged animal so you acted like one.

“Why did you leave McLaren?” Daniel asks, knowing you wouldn’t leave unless there was a good reason.

“I signed an NDA, so you can’t share any of this. After I started at McLaren, an engineer was hired who would say sexist remarks all the time. Over time I stopped being nice and just got mean back, and I finally snapped. I gave him a nice right hook to his face,” you sip the wine, giving the shortened version. “Zak didn’t know, no one had reported the engineers behavior, so we signed NDAs and I left.”

“I’m sorry, That plus the media circus of being a woman in F1 can’t be easy,” Daniel sympathizes.

“That’s why I forced myself to be like this. If I can make myself seem untouchable, it doesn’t hurt as much. Being the villain is easier,” you tell him.

“So how will you approach Mercedes?” Daniel keeps you talking, knowing you need a good trauma dump.

“Lay low for the first couple weeks, let the drivers think they took out my claws, hung me to dry. It won’t be enough to ruin my season, but enough to catch them off guard. During the fourth or fifth race, I’ll leap from my gallows and crash their party, exposing the sexism within Formula One,” you smirk.

“The old ‘who’s afraid of little old me’ tactic,” he smiles, enjoying your plan.

“They should be afraid,” you say, explaining your interview with Suzie that is going to break the internet, after all, the NDA only kept you from talking about the punch.

Just like you predicted, the media and fans were divided. Some called for a public apology from McLaren and the FIA for the treatment of female drivers, most called you over dramatic, and said you only wanted to attention to distract from your poor performance and waning stardom. They said not everything is about you and the people who hurt you didn’t do it to hurt you.

You wanted nothing more than to argue back and show the media and fans just how disturbed they had made you, but Toto told you to let your driving do the talking. That race you said one thing to the media, “you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.”

“Chills, your interview was phenomenal. Thanks for citing me as one of your biggest supporters by the way. Scooch over, let’s see what insecure men are tweeting,” Daniel hands you a glass of wine and sits beside you on your couch, air playing his phone screen.

“I like that one, I’m always drunk on my own tears,” you laugh. Daniel logged into his spam account, letting himself reply to the haters.

“I like this one. Y/n L/n is the kind of person to sue you for stepping on her lawn,” Daniel laughs.

“The reply is better: she’s fearsome, wretched, and most importantly, wrong,” you both think of a funny reply.

You show up to the track and win, and win, and win, until you are holding the trophy for your fourth world championship.

In your post-championship interview with the F1 media team, you make what may be your biggest announcement yet.

“In the wake of people calling me crazy after sharing my experiences as a woman in motorsport, I’d like to make a very special announcement. I am who I am because you trained me to be like this, so to make sure no other girl has to go through what I did, I will be sponsoring two F1 Academy drivers with added mentorship and sponsorship opportunities. I’ve seen the work that Susie Wolff has done, and I cannot wait to help grow the presence of women in motorsport,” you say, sitting beside Susie.

“We will make sure she doesn’t terrorize the girls too much,” she jokes at your request.

“Who’s afraid of little old me?”

[moonhoures]

Sunday Morning

🕷️ kinktober — day 9: cockwarming 🕸️

pairing: jiung (p1harmony) + reader (g/n)

genre: non-idol!au, fluff, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, morning sex, cockwarming, edging (kinda? sorry jiung 😅), somnophilia (idk if this really counts but i’m putting it just in case!), pet names: ‘ji’ & ‘baby’ for jiung

word count: ~1.8k

synopsis: just some good ol’ morning sex with bf!jiung 😌

posted: october 9, 2023

kinktober masterlist

Your bedroom was enveloped in a layer of thin darkness provided by the gloomy, rainy weather settling outside of your windows. Sundays were usually your chore and errand day of the week, but when your eyes cracked open for the first time this morning and saw the nasty weather, you threw those plans out the window (metaphorically). Instead of getting up to start your day, you snuggled yourself further into the warmth of your sheets, pulling them tighter to you. You snuggled your face into the plush of your pillow, and shifted your hips back for a more comfortable position. Only, your behind met something solid, which had you concerned and confused, but only for a moment.

“Hey, quit hogging the covers.”

You melted into relief as you remembered that your boyfriend had stayed the night and was sleeping just behind you. His presence made itself clear as he turned to face you, tugging back some of the sheets. He lifted them up while he scooted closer to you, letting the soft fabric fall over the both of you. You felt his arm encircle your waist and pull you closer to his front.

“I forgot you were here,” the grogginess of just waking up was evident in your voice, cracking some of the syllables.

“Ouch,” Jiung mumbled with fake-hurt, making you laugh softly, “Glad to know I have such a big impact on your life.”

“Well you haven’t stayed the night in so long. Excuse me for not being used to waking up with you next to me.”

Your boyfriend leaned forward and kissed your shoulder that was exposed by the neck of your shirt slipping to the side. You instinctively scrunched up, trying to avoid the tickling sensation that came with his lips and breath brushing against your sensitive skin. But he persisted, hands holding onto your hips to keep you still while he attempted to kiss your neck. The best he could manage was leaving chaste pecks on the nape of your neck.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to spend the night,” he apologized with a smile as he held you close, spooning you. Your hands found his at your navel, and you intertwined your fingers with his, “I’ll have to change that soon.”

“I would like to wake up like this more often,” you confessed, making your boyfriend smile even wider.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, scooting yourself impossibly closer to him. He hoped you didn’t hear the small noise he let out when you brushed against the subtle tent forming in his shorts. But of course he couldn’t get that lucky, “Seems like you would, too.”

“Babe-“ he groaned in embarrassment, his arms tightening around you. You laughed at his expense.

“If you had morning wood, you could’ve just said so, Ji.”

“I didn’t- I don’t- I-,” your boyfriend sighed, half in defeat and half in frustration. It’s not like he was the one that rubbed his erection against your ass, “It’ll go away, just . . . don’t touch it.”

Secretly, you loved making Jiung flustered like this. He was always so cute when he got nervous and stuttered over his words. You wished you could see how pink his cheeks were getting. How wide his eyes were. You decided to tease him further, not-so-innocently shifting to “get more comfortable” and brushing even more against his bulge in the process.

“________,” he warned you, hand gripping your waist in attempt to stop your movements.

“You’re right, I’m too tired for that right now,” you sighed, but the gears were already turning in that pretty head of yours, “Unless . . . you want to just put it in and nap some more with me?”

“How is that any fun?” he asked, a slight pout to his lips. But he wasn’t denying you, so that was something.

“I guess it’s not supposed to be,” you shrugged, “But it’s intimate. And if you’re good, I might reward you.”

“Might?”

“Fine, I will reward you. But only if you stay still and let me nap.”

Jiung mulled it over for a minute, but he truly didn’t think he had the strength, the self control. Still, he was never one to turn down the opportunity to have sex with you. There were very few things he could think of that were better than being buried inside of you, so this just felt like a no brainer.

“Think you can do that?” you asked him, peeking over your shoulder to see him struggling in his own contemplation. The dark shadows on his face brightened with the flash of lightning that illuminated the room for a split second, followed by a low rumble of thunder off in the distance.

“Uh huh,” he nodded, even though he knew you couldn’t see him do so.

It was a blessing and curse that you decided to sleep in only your underwear and one of his t-shirts. A blessing in the sense that it gave him easier access, and a curse in the sense that the easy access only turned him on more, making his erection stand at full attention, hard and uncomfortable. He thought a quick, thankful prayer as he took his weeping cock out from his sleep shorts. If you hadn’t decided you wanted to cockwarm him, he would’ve waited entirely too long to take care of his morning wood in the bathroom like a gentleman. He made a mental note to treat you real good the next time you had proper sex.

“Are you ready now?” he asked, not wanting to dive right in too soon and have it be uncomfortable for you.

“Honestly, Ji, I’ve been wet since I woke up,” you admitted with a small giggle, “So yeah.”

A small fluttering feeling took up space in his chest as he wondered if you were wet because of him. Had you dreamed of him? You had never had a wet dream about him—as far as he knew—so the possibility made him really happy.

He decided not to waste anymore time, so he discreetly used some of his spit to moisten the grip on his dick, rubbing it out a little before getting closer to your center. The fabric of your underwear was easy to move out of the way, and in seconds he was sinking into you with a small hiss. Inch by inch, he fed his length to your hole, letting you suck him in with a familiar warmth that felt like the most impure hug.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he couldn’t help himself from admitting. Once he was seated deep within your heat he got the overwhelming urge to thrust, but the voice of his conscience told him to keep himself in check. It shouldn’t be too bad, all he had to do was hold you and stay still until the both of you nodded back off to sleep. But how long do they plan on napping? he thought. I don’t know how long I can do this before I go insane.

A mix of a hum and a small sigh left you as you felt yourself become full. Jiung watched you practically melt into the bed, your shoulders dropping with relaxation and your head nestling further into your pillow. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head without even thinking about it. His body moved on its own, doing what his heart wanted him to. He smiled at your cozy state, hugging you again. His legs were almost entangled with yours in this position. You two were so close that you basically became one entity.

“This feels nice,” you spoke so softly, moments away from falling back into a slumber.

Jiung wanted to agree, but he was focusing too much on relaxing and not bucking his hips into yours like he so badly wanted to. So instead, he hummed weakly in agreement, fingertips softly gripping the flesh of your tummy as he tried not to adjust his position. If he moved even a centimeter while inside of you, he knew the drag of his cock against your walls would feel too good for him to stay quiet and keep his cool.

“Ji,” you called his name, a hint of a smile on your lips, though he couldn’t see it since he was behind you and his eyes were screwed shut in concentration, “You okay?”

“Mhm, just- trying to stay still like you asked.”

You chuckled faintly. He really was the cutest—and the most obedient, you’ve noticed, “You’re doing good, baby. Just a while longer.”

Jiung nodded, but inside he was whining like a sick puppy. Just a while longer, he thought.

A few minutes turned into several minutes, and eventually became over half an hour. Jiung had finally gotten to a point where he was fully relaxed, cuddling you and focusing on your lulling breaths to keep himself at bay, and it worked. Your delicate snoring didn’t even faze him as his eyes fell closed and he began nodding off beside you. He awoke after a while when you shifted in his warm embrace, hips slightly rutting against his. A choked groan squeaked out of his lips before he could stop it.

“Sorry, baby, did I wake you?” you asked him, purposefully beginning to rock your hips in the most subtle way that it could seem accidental.

“Ah- Please,” he breathed out in a sheepish tone, his hand quickly moving from your stomach back to your hips. His fingertips gripped onto your skin desperately, trying to get you to stop moving.

“What? I thought you wanted to fuck me, Ji?”

“I- I do,” his words came out in pants as his groin began to feel like it was on fire again. His cock throbbed with the anguishing need to cum.

“Then fuck me.”

It was the most gentle command he had ever heard, but the most compelling. Not even a second went by before he was thrusting into you with fervor. Your lip was sucked in between your teeth as you tried to bite back moans and failed. Jiung was a sweet lover, always so attentive and never selfish. He did tend to get a little ambitious sometimes, and those were the few times he would cum before you did. Now seemed like it would be one of those times, but you couldn’t blame him. He had suffered long enough while you cock warmed him. He was a good boy, and did exactly as you asked of him. He deserved to cum first.

“Cum whenever you’re ready, baby.”

“Thank you,” a long, pathetic moan followed his words as his hips stuttered behind your own. He jerked and twitched with every rope of cum that painted your insides. Overwhelming pleasure was all he felt, and in that moment all the waiting he had to do was worth it. Absolutely worth it.

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @celestialplatinum @pinklemonadeflav @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

[atlabeth]

northern attitude

geyser (where hurricane is introduced)

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: you and luke meet for the first time. (or luke saves you from a monster, you argue with each other the whole time, and he realizes that he doesn't want to survive alone anymore.)

a/n: by popular demand, hurricane is back for a sequel! and potentially more. lol. enjoy some insight into her (justice for weird little girls) and try not to think about the fact that she dies 6 years later! title comes from new england king noah kahan for these new england icons

wc: 4.6k

warning(s): some inner luke angst, monster encounter and short fight (luke gets a bit injured), they argue but in the fun way. they're just lil nine year olds

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Luke muttered. 

He didn’t get an answer back. He was, after all, talking to a fish. 

Maybe it didn’t like that he was a criminal. Luke had snuck his way into the New England Aquarium—he wasn’t going to cough up twenty-five bucks to look at marine life—in desperate need of a reprieve from the city, and he fought the urge to check his back every second. If there was one thing he’d learned from being on his own, it was that kids traveling alone always attracted attention. The last thing he needed was attention. 

Talking to a fish probably wasn’t good for that, but Luke wasn’t exactly in the best headstate. 

Because honestly, he didn’t really know what he was doing in Massachusetts. He tried staying in Connecticut after running away, but it still felt too close to home. He could still hear his mom yelling, could still see her glowing eyes. So he bought the cheapest bus ticket he could find to Boston, hoping a state in between would help. 

That was the second thing he’d learned while traveling on the road: everything was way too expensive. And for a kid with no job living off the allowance he’d saved up and some extra money he took out of his mom’s wallet, that wasn’t great. If Luke couldn’t get something dirt cheap, he stole it. His father may not have answered any of his prayers in the past few years, but at least he had naturally quick fingers. 

Luke sighed as he turned away from the fish, who was clearly not interested in striking up a conversation. He weaved his way through the crowd as he tried to think of where to go next—it wasn’t the smartest decision, but he was tempted to get a little whale plush from the gift stop—when he heard the middle of a conversation. 

“You made a mistake coming here, dearie.” 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as Luke froze in place. He couldn’t even murmur an apology to the people who bumped into him because the gears in his head were turning rapidly. 

“Let go of me—” a voice protested in response. 

“Quieting down would do you some good. Did your mother not teach you manners?”

He was still trying to see who it was when he finally found it. A middle-aged woman moved through the crowd with a girl around Luke’s age, her hand wrapped tightly around the girl’s arm. Her nails were more like claws, and she had a strange gait that she tried to cover up. That was when he knew. 

See, Luke had gotten used to distinguishing creeps from freaks with all his time on the road. Cutting a monster down would turn them into dust—normal humans would call the police. And if there was anything more dangerous for a runaway juvenile than monsters, it was the police. 

But if a monster had ignored every single person in this building to get to you, it meant he’d somehow stumbled his way into the path of another half-blood. And Luke wasn’t going to let another half-blood die right in front of him. 

So he took a deep breath, hoped the five second plan he made up in his head would work, and moved in.

“May, where have you been?” Luke tried to put on his best brother voice, and made himself as imposing as a nine year old could be. He didn’t focus at all on the monster, instead communicating to trust him as much as he could with his eyes. “Mom’s been worried sick!”

Both you and the woman turned to look at him, and Luke immediately knew he made the right choice from the blatant fear in your expression. 

“Sorry,” you said, letting your shoulders fall and your gaze drop to the ground. Luke tried not to let his relief show over you playing along. “I really wanted to look at the sea turtle—” 

“You should’ve said something instead of just wandering off,” he insisted. “We can all go look at it together—once Mom is done lecturing you, at least.” Luke took your hand and you let him pull you over to his side, positioning himself in front of you ever so slightly as he looked up at the woman. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her. I appreciate it.” 

“You should be more careful,” she said eerily. It felt as if she was staring right into his soul. “You never know the kind of things that are out there.” 

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “Sisters, am I right?” 

As soon as they were out of hearing distance, he lowered his voice and tightened his grip on your hand. “Come on. Try and look casual.” 

“You know what she is,” you whispered.

“Yes,” he said, then he shook his head. “I— not exactly. But I know she’s a monster.”

“I knew it,” you muttered with vindication. Luke felt your eyes on him. “So you’re like me?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“One of your parents is—” You stopped, as if you still weren’t sure. 

Luke knew the feeling all too well—desperately trying to tell someone what he was only to be met with that look adults loved to give. You’re clearly talking nonsense, but I feel bad for you so I’ll humor you. And all the normal kids he’d tried to tell the truth to thought he was just playing a game. 

“A god,” he finished quietly. “Yeah.”

You started to look back, but Luke stopped you. 

“Don’t.” Their chances of getting attacked in a place so full of people was lower, but Luke had dealt with some particularly bold monsters. One able to disguise themself as a human would have an advantage—Luke learned people hated listening to kids, especially ones they could pass off as delusional. “You don’t want her to catch on.” 

“Who are you?” you asked. 

“My name’s Luke,” he said. “What about you?” 

You said your name, then you glanced at him. “You know a lot about all of this. More than me.” 

“Are you a runaway too?”

You nodded, and a part of his heart broke. You had no right to be out here, not when you were so young. 

And he says so, too. “You shouldn’t be out here on your own. It’s dangerous.” 

You frowned. “You’re out here on your own too.” 

“I’ve been on my own for a few months,” he said. “I know what to expect. How long have you been out?” 

You shrugged. “A week.” 

Luke let out a ragged sigh. “You’ve got bad luck if monsters are already coming after you.” 

“They already have,” you murmured, and you looked back at him. “How old are you if you’ve been doing this for months?” 

Luke frowned. “Nine. How old are you?” 

“I’m also nine,” you shot back. “So you can’t say anything to me.” 

He opened his mouth to retort—Luke hadn’t been a child in years, not since Hermes left him alone with a cursed mother and a burning rage inside of him that he couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard he tried. But if you chose to run away from home too, then you were in the same boat. Kids like you two didn’t get to be kids. 

“Fair,” he conceded. “But it’ll be a lot easier to give her the slip if we work together.”

“…I can deal with that.” You cleared your throat. “Thank you for saving me, though. I… I just froze.” 

“It happens more than you’d think,” Luke muttered. “We have to throw her off our trail, though. She’s not gonna be happy.” 

“She’s probably ecstatic,” you said, shaking your head. “She’s got two kids to eat instead of one.” 

“Aren’t you an optimist?” he remarked. 

You chuckled. “Sorry. It hasn’t been a great day.” 

“It’s fine.” Luke didn’t know the last great—god, even good—day he’d had, even before he ran away. Honestly, this conversation with you had been the highlight of this month. “But we can’t just leave. She has our scent, so she’ll be on us as soon as we’re on our own. It’ll be even easier out in the open. We’ve gotta set security on her trail to get her off ours.” 

You nodded as you turned another corner. “We should get to the gift shop. It’ll be less populated, but still enough to hide us.” 

Luke nodded. “Smart. And security’ll have an easy path there in case of shoplifters.” 

“So tell a sob story, get security, set them on her,” you said, looking at him. 

“Then get the hell out of here,” he agreed. 

“Think we can get a souvenir for the occasion?” you asked. “We’ve probably earned it with all this dodging.” 

Luke thought about that whale plushie again. “Maybe.” 

“The stairs are that way.” You gestured with your head, and Luke turned—he’d been going the completely wrong direction.

“Thanks,” he said. “You know this place?” 

“I’m from Boston,” you nodded. “And I’ve been here a lot with my mom.”

Luke figured he should have guessed by the accent. He didn’t know how long he was going to stay, but it would be useful to have someone with him who knew the city.

“You’re still pretty close to home,” he noted. 

You shrugged. “I’ve been doing all the things I’ve wanted to do now that I’m officially on my own. I know I’m gonna have to leave eventually, but…” you sighed and shook your head. “I guess I’m scared. Brave enough to run away but too scared to make it official.” 

Luke understood that more than you could know. It took him feeling like he was going to burst out of his skin before he got the strength to leave Connecticut. 

“You don’t wanna leave your mom,” he guessed. 

You nodded. “I love her more than anything, but I’ve already put her in too much danger. I’m leaving until I can figure out how to keep her safe.” 

You’re a kid, Luke wanted to say. It should be the other way around. But he’d already been hypocritical enough for today, and you’d probably say the same. 

“That’s sweet,” he said. “Stupid, but sweet.” 

“We’re both nine-year-old runaways,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me what’s stupid.” 

He chuckled and shook his head, letting the matter drop as you finally got to the gift shop. Luke had been stressed about how to strike a balance between cautious enough to keep your backs covered but confident enough to not be questioned, but it turned out talking with you was all he needed. 

On the way to the front, Luke caught sight of a whale plushie. His fingers itched to grab it, but he kept his eyes on the better prize of not dying and came to a stop at the cash register. 

“Hi,” Luke said, getting the attention of the employee at the front, hoping he sounded adequately fearful. “There’s a woman out there that tried to get my friend to go with her. Tall, middle-aged, dressed in grandmother-y clothes with glasses. She grabbed her arm and threatened her.” 

“You kids aren’t joking around, are you?” the cashier asked. 

“No,” you said, and Luke was shocked by how close to tears you sounded. “It was really scary— my parents were in the bathroom and I was waiting for them, and she just looked so nice, but—” somehow, a tear actually fell from your eye as you let out a sob— “but she tried to take me away.” 

The woman shook her head as she went back and grabbed a walkie talkie from below the register. The moment she turned away, you glanced at Luke and nodded, and he just stared in awe. She relayed Luke’s description then said a couple other things, then she crouched down to be on their level to look you straight-on. “Where are your parents?” 

“They’re in the bathroom on the second floor,” you provided. “We came here because we didn’t know where else to go.” 

She sighed, falling for every part of it. You were much better at garnering sympathy than Luke was. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I called our security— they’ll be here in a second to get a statement from you.” 

You nodded, sniffling a bit as your lip quivered. “Thank you. I— I just want my mom.” 

The employee put her hand to her heart, and when you went for a hug, she reciprocated. “Don’t cry. You’re gonna be safe, okay? I’ll wait with you until security gets here. One of our guards is already out there looking for her.”

“Okay,” you agreed. Luke caught your eye from behind her back, and you dropped your act in a second to smile knowingly at him. He just shook his head with a slight smile of his own—you were good at this. 

Eventually, two security guards arrived—Luke doubted they would be good for handling a shoplifter, much less a mythological monster—but they took yours and Luke’s statements, and were about to leave before you spoke up. 

“Our parents are definitely looking for us,” you said, already back on the verge of tears. “Can— can you take us to them? When they went to the bathroom, we were by the coral reef.” 

“‘Course.” One of them nodded and looked at his partner. “I’ll get them back to their parents—you look for the suspect.” 

After a short discussion, the three of you set out, you still holding Luke’s hand as he leaned closer to you. 

“On my signal,” he murmured. “We’re gonna blend into the crowd and get out of here.”

You nodded. You were so close to the exit, but you allowed the guard to take you up the stairs, and thankfully the crowd around the middle of the giant ocean tank was huge. Luke counted off quietly, and when he got to three, you split off, blending into a group of kids on a school field trip to get back to the stairs. 

You started moving at a much quicker pace, the exit within your sights, but just as they were about to make it, Luke spotted their monster. And now, she was definitely a monster—Luke couldn’t remember the name, but she’d shed her disguise, looking like some kind of bird-human hybrid thing. It didn’t really matter in his opinion, because she really looked like she wanted to kill the two of you. 

Luke cursed and grabbed your arm, immediately pulling you flat up against the wall with him. “She’s here.” 

“We told security about her,” you protested. “How hard could it be to find her?” 

“A bit harder when they’re gonna be seeing something different.” Luke glanced at you. “You said you’ve already dealt with monsters before.” 

You nodded. 

“Do you remember feeling like you were the only one who actually saw what was happening? Like you saw the monster for what it was while it was trying to kill you, and everyone was still freaking out, but not as much as they should have been?” 

You nodded again. 

“Well, that’s a thing. Normal people can’t see what monsters really look like—only we can.” Luke peeked his head around the corner again. “And if she’s shed her disguise, it means she wants to go in for the kill. And it means we’re completely on our own.” 

“We’re not on our own,” you said. “We’ve got each other.” 

Luke found himself smiling. It had been a while since that was true. It had been a while since he’d smiled. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “And it’s harder to kill two half-bloods than one.” 

He poked his head out again and immediately withdrew it, cursing under his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. “I never should have come to this city.”  

“Excuse me?” You stepped away from the wall as your brows furrowed. “Boston is the greatest city in the world.” 

“If you’re gonna be wrong, be wrong quietly,” Luke urged, gesturing with his head for you to get back. “And you are wrong, by the way.” 

“I’m not wrong.” You crossed your arms, refusing to budge. “Did you know that we have the first public park? And the first public school! And we have the T! Where are you even from?” 

“We can talk about this later,” he insisted. “We’re trying to hide. Have you ever hidden before?” 

“We don’t need to hide when you’ve insulted my Commonwealth’s honor,” you said. “Especially when you’re in our aquarium. Where are you from to be talking so badly about the Bay State?” 

“Connecticut,” he finally said, hoping that would get you to finally quiet down, but that only ramped you up further. “Place called Westport.”

“Connecticut?” you marveled, throwing your hands up. “You’re from some podunk town in Connecticut and you’re insulting Boston?” 

“Okay, Westport is not a podunk town—” Luke started, but he didn’t get the chance to finish defending his hometown before he caught sight of their monster—and she’d caught sight of them. 

Luke cursed even harder under his breath with words no nine year old should have known, then he grabbed your hand and pulled you along into a jog, interrupting your immediate protests. 

“She’s got us pinned,” he said, trying to keep his voice low enough to not be detected while making sure you could hear him. “Together, our scent is too strong. We’re not gonna be able to lose her—we’ve gotta kill her.”

“Could the fish help with her knowing where we are?” you asked as you started running with him. “Because they’ll be happy to help us. They don’t like her either.”

Luke did a double take. “What?”

“I can hear what they’re saying,” you said, as if it were completely normal. “It’s a little overwhelming with so many in one place, honestly.”

If they weren’t on the run from a monster, Luke would have worried a bit more about the fact that you were crazy. But he wasn’t awarded those kinds of luxuries these days. 

“We’ll—” Luke let out a sigh, because what did you mean that you could hear what fish were saying (especially because they clearly weren’t conversation prone)— “we’ll get out of here, and get the upper hand, and we’ll kill her. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded. “But Boston is still the greatest city in the world.” 

He huffed, taking his eyes off the path forward for a moment just to look at you. “Are you seriously still on this?” 

“Of course. We also have the greatest baseball team in the country.” You gestured with your free hand. “Do you see how many people here have Red Sox hats on?” 

Luke laughed out of pure shock. Was this the kind of stuff he’d been missing out on while traveling alone? 

“Listen,” he said. “If we get out of this alive, you can tell me all the Red Sox facts you want. But we actually have to work together through all this. Deal?” 

“Deal,” you said immediately. “You’re way more focused than I am.” 

Luke let out a loose breath and shook his head. “Well, I’ve had to be. Do you have a weapon?” 

“I took a kitchen knife before I left,” you said, “just to be safe. It’s worked pretty well.” 

“Do you know how to use it?” 

“I’m really good at chopping vegetables,” you said. “And I killed a monster with it the other day.” 

“Glowing reviews,” Luke chuckled. “I’m pretty good with my sword, so we should be okay.” 

“You’ve got a sword? How?” 

“...My dad left it for me before he left,” Luke said. “I guess he wanted to do one good thing for me in his life.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said. Luke offered a tight smile. 

“Doesn’t matter much anymore,” he said. “Soon as we get outside, we get to the street and get to some empty alley. We hide on either side, wait for her to find us, then take her down. Okay?” 

You nodded resolutely. “Let’s do it.”

The beginning of the plan wasn’t too difficult. Your faces would probably be plastered all over the place once the staff realized you were missing, but that was a problem for another day. You knew the area well so you took charge—and you took the time to spout random facts about the city on your way, of course, like a nine-year-old tour guide—and soon enough they were indeed in an empty alleyway. 

You and Luke stood on each side, weapons in your grasp now that you weren’t surrounded by a whole aquarium of people, and he watched as you stared straight ahead, trying to keep your breathing steady. Besides the whole hearing fish thing, you seemed pretty well-adjusted for where you were. 

But then again—you’d only been at this for a week, and the way you talked about your mom, your home life was the complete opposite of his. 

Luke shook his head. It didn’t matter what your life was like—you both ended up in the same place. 

His thoughts were mercifully ended when Luke heard sharp nails scratching against the brick of the alleyway. He grimaced, his grip tightening on his sword, and he looked over at you. Your eyes were slightly wide, but you nodded when he did. You were ready. 

“You two are clever,” the monster sang, her voice just as grating as her nails against the wall, “but I never miss a meal. And those measly workers just wouldn’t sate my appetite.” 

Her steps got closer and closer, and Luke held his breath. Right before she would be able to see you both, he yelled, “Now!” 

You were out first, immediately lashing at her with your knife. She took the cut against her shoulder and slashed at you in turn, but you dodged out of the way, giving Luke a chance to come in with his sword. But his angle was off, and she deflected the blow then sunk her claws into his arm. Luke cried out, landing a kick on her chest as he ripped himself out of her grasp, but her focus was already back on you. 

You stabbed at her with your knife and actually landed it in her chest, but it wasn’t Celestial bronze—all it did was make her angrier. She screeched and tackled you to the ground, knife still sticking out of her, claws poised to rip your throat out. You grit your teeth as you wrestled her arms away from you, but your strength was fading fast. 

Luke’s eyes widened and he grabbed his sword from the ground. He wouldn’t make it in time, but you could. 

He called out your name and threw his sword, and you didn’t even have to look to snatch it out of the air. Storms raged in your eyes as you stabbed the monster through the side.

“You shouldn’t have come here, dearie,” you spat. 

The monster’s scream dissolved with the wind as she exploded into dust, dousing you in yellow powder. The sword fell out of your grip as you coughed, and you just laid on the ground, drained.  

“Gross,” you grumbled. 

Luke wiped his hand across his forehead as he fought to catch his breath, ignoring the blood seeping down his arm. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you said between coughs. “I’m great.” 

Luke went over and offered his hand, and he pulled you up after you took it. “I’m so sorry. I guess I’m a little rusty.” 

“Neither of us are dead, are we? I’d say it went pretty well.” You grimaced as you wiped the powder off your face, groaning again. “This is gonna take forever to get off.” 

Luke chuckled as he took his backpack off and took out a towel, which you accepted gratefully. A demigod always had to be prepared. “You say you’ve only been on your own for a week?”

You nodded as you started cleaning your face and arms off. “Not my first monster, though.”

“It never is,” he murmured. Luke tipped his head back towards the sun and closed his eyes, letting out one final, long breath as the buzz from battle started to fade. And along with that, his adrenaline—the wound on his arm began to sting, and he sighed. He really didn’t feel like dealing with that. 

“You’re hurt,” you said, and Luke opened his eyes. 

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “They’re surface level.” 

You frowned. “Are you sure?” 

“I’ve stitched myself up a few times, and this doesn’t need them,” he said, his lip curling at the memory. He was not a very good doctor. “I have some first aid stuff in my bag—once we get out of here, I’ll fix it up.” 

“You said we,” you said. 

Luke blinked. “I did?” 

You nodded. “When we get out of here.” 

He blinked again. He didn’t even notice—didn’t even really think about where you would go after the monster was dead. It was kinda sad, but Luke was pretty sure he’d smiled and talked more in this one hour with you than the past few months on his own. He’d already started thinking of you and him as a collective. 

“What d’you think, then?” he asked. “You wanna stick together?” 

You frowned. “You’re willing to kick it with a girl you just met?”

He shrugged. “You fight well, obviously. And you’re way better at making people feel bad for you than I am. That’s useful when you’ve got nothing.”

“We’re kids on our own,” you said. “It’s not that hard to get pity points.”

“I’ve been told I’m… abrasive,” Luke said. “Besides, I like you already. You were arguing for your baseball team while running for your life. It’s annoying, but impressive.”

“People also say that about me,” you said sagely. Luke smiled and held out his hand more. 

“So? You wanna join forces?”

You stared at it for a while. “Even if I spend the next couple of hours telling you all about the Red Sox?”

Luke chuckled. “I did say you could if we got out of this alive. And I feel pretty alive.” 

It took you another second, but you nodded intently and shook his hand. “Then you’ve got yourself a deal, Luke.” 

“Glad to hear it,” he said, his smile widening. 

You handed him the towel and he went to put it back in his bag when he saw the… souvenir he’d taken before you left the gift shop. He grabbed the whale plushie that had been on his mind all day and held it out to you. “Here.”

You frowned. “When did you even have the time to get this? You definitely didn’t pay for it.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s playthings,” he said. “They won’t miss it. It’s a much better use marking the start of our friendship. Besides,” Luke shrugged, “you did say you wanted a souvenir.” 

You smiled as you took it. “Looks like we’re a trio, then.”

“Welcome to the team,” he said with a grin. “It’s a small one, but I think we’ll make it work.”

“Me too,” you nodded. “And it’ll be nice not being alone.”

Luke thought back to all the nights spent sleeping under bridges, commandeering benches, purposefully choosing overnight buses so he would have somewhere to rest. Constantly watching his back because he had no one else, wondering if each night he camped in the woods would be his last. 

He looked at you, a girl who ran away from home because she didn’t want to hurt her mom. Your clothes were covered in yellow monster dust, sweat dripped down your forehead, and Luke had nearly gotten you killed—but you were still smiling. And he found himself smiling too. 

“Yeah,” Luke murmured. “It will be.” 

[cryptotheism]

Who was the worst alchemist? Like, not morally or philosphically, but like who was just the worst at being an alchemist

That's a fun question but a difficult one to answer. So in the interest of edutainment, I'll talk about why that's hard to answer.

For most of history, if you were a bad alchemist nobody wrote it down. Being an alchemist is expensive. It requires access to expensive materials and facilities, and you usually need to be able to read. History may be full of horrible alchemists, but nobody knows their names, because their dumb asses weren't worth the papyrus.

Once you hit the printing press, shit kicks into high gear. There's an explosion of literacy and access to literature. It is now easier than ever to gain access to the knowledge required to be an alchemist, but alembics and mercury are still pretty pricey.

What you get, is a generation of itinerant, entrepreneurial alchemists. Smart folks that are competing for the attention of the local nobleman, because he's the only one who can afford a laboratory. You promise to turn a handful of gold into ten handfuls, milord gets a cut, you get to use the lab. Easy.

(in reality, what they were doing chemically was adding "filler" to the gold.)

We KNOW some of these dudes couldn't do alchemy for shit. Because it was fairly common to just take that initial handful of gold and fuck off. At the time, alchemists were often seen as untrustworthy con artists.

So, if we WERE to try and determine The Worst Alchemist in History. It would probably be some late medieval, early Renaissance alchemist, who tried his best, and ended up getting hung from the Gold Plated Gibbet.

[freebirdsworldburritos]

The classism in the "music gear" scene is fucking atrocious. So many people will shit on other people for using affordable gear as a way to justify within themselves that dropping $3,000 on a guitar was a smart financial move.

About 3-4 years ago I joined a band and a month after I joined we went on some video podcast. Play a few songs, do an interview, something I've never done before but it seemed like it'd be fun.

I wasn't able to really get a word in during the interviews (stuttering/speech impediment/anxiety issues ran wild) but I was able to speak up whenever the host went around and asked us what our favorite instrument/gear brands were. Weird question, but alright buddy.

I've always been a fan of cheaper gear. You don't need all sorts of expensive shit to get the sound you want. So when he asked my answer was "Squier" and the dude just started laughing. Because who possibly would prefer one of the cheaper brands??? (Keep in mind this douche had a whole wall of the absolute worst looking collection of custom shop BC Rich guitars you've ever seen.)

Eventually he backed down once I started arguing with him about it, but his immediate elitist attitude really struck a cord in me because I see that shit all over the internet in music communities. "Oh you only like Squiers/Epiphones/Harley Bentons because you can't afford BIG BOY guitars like a $5,000 Gibson".

Fuck right off with that shit. Why would I pay thousands of dollars for a guitar when I can get something that works amazingly for me for just a few hundred dollars? The extra money I save by not dropping 4 figures on a guitar or amp goes towards paying my bills, feeding my kids, just trying to fucking live and exist.

At this point I've had to sell 99% of my music gear after over a decade of following the gear chase. I only have a "cheap" acoustic I bought several years ago for $350 and it's the best guitar I've ever had. I love my little busted neck Hummingbird to death.

I'm much happier now than I was when I had a huge assortment of pedals and guitars to choose from. The Gear Chase is designed to make you want to spend more and more money in an endless pursuit of finding that "perfect" piece of gear. Guitar companies, partnered youtubers, influencers, and all sorts of advertisement campaigns are purposefully trying to misguide you into thinking you NEED their product. It's marketing and capitalism at work and so many musicians fall for it every time. I fell for it for years before I got completely fed up with it.

Go out and gig with your Squier Bullet Strat and a cheap amp you found at a pawn shop, fuck anyone that gives you shit for it. Go ahead and record with whatever you have at your disposal. Put out an album that's comprised of Voice Memos you recorded on your phone with just an acoustic and your voice.

Music, like any art, is about way more than what you used to get there. It's how you express yourself that really matters. Don't listen to the elitists and marketers telling you the only way you can authentically reach your creative vision is by buying their snake oil.

[k2ntoss]

Hi, hi, hello <: first time sending an ask to anyone but I cant stop thinking of this rn and I feel like you'd appreciate the comedy of this. So like, this is definitely a more crackfic idea than anything, but I was just scrolling on amazon for Valentine's gift ideas and i found this, and the idea of gifting it to Jason?? peak comedy in my mind

Imagine lighting it right before he goes on patrol just to mess with him a little too...👀 I just think it has so much potential for so many shenanigans, y'know? 😁😁

(I've been lurking around for a lil bit, gotta say I love your writing btw, it's great)

PRETTY LATE BUT I'M HERE, i tried to write something nice for a few days but i just couldn't squeeze my brain. NOW, i feel so honored to be your first ask, it's just so special so i really hope my little drabble is enough <3 and thank you so much for your sweet words baby

at first you wanted to get jason a nice edition of one of his favorite books, one of those expensive pretty books with a hard cover and write a lovely letter to him but scrolling and looking around some pages that candle popped up and you just couldn't resist it so there were now five items on your shopping cart, the book, the candle and stuff to wrap everything up. ready for valentine's day and getting him a pretty surprise in which you worked in every night as he went out on patrol until the day before valentine.

for those who think jason isn't that much of a valentine's day enjoyer let me tell you how wrong you are, jason enjoys picking up things for you because he knows it makes you feel special and even if it turns out into being more of a commercial holiday jason knows taking people for granted is not a good think, it's so easy to lose your loved ones and he's in no way letting you go one day without knowing how much you mean to him. so as soon as you wake up you're met by a big and warm hug, a chaste kiss on your lips and a pretty gift box on your lap; jason looks at you with a wide smile when you open the box just to find that sweater you saw on a store a few weeks ago, the one you wanted to get but couldn't buy because you were on a rush "jay... you didn't had to, this is just perfect" and it's simple but there's just so much in the fact that jason had in mind how much you liked that sweater and kept it in mind for days.

"i had to, anything for my baby..." he says softly and a sweet chuckle escapes his lips when you kiss him, arms wrapped around his neck before letting go of him to stand up. jason's eyes are fixed on you, your figure moving around as you pick a gift box from the closet just to walk back to the bed, going to sit on his lap before placing your gift on his hands and looking at his reaction as he opens it, the smile on jason's lips as his hands caress the book before he picks up the letter and seeing his green eyes tear up a bit is just so heartwarming you can't help but to cup his face with one of your hands.

"you know? you're the best thing that has ever happened to me" he says, a soft giggle slipping through jason's lips as he looks up to hide the small tears that are pooling on his lashline and it makes you nod "i think you've said it a few times before" and it makes you smile when he leans into your touch, nuzzling his face against your palm. suddenly, you remember there's still one more box you have for him and you stand up all of the sudden to go get it and he looks curiously at you when you turn around, holding the box and smiling widely.

"what do you have there?" jason asks, a small grin on his face as he sits straight on the bed before looking to the screen of his phone. it was almost time for him to go get ready for patrol, late in the evening he is just waiting to have a little more time with his lover. "it's a little surprise for both of us but by the look on your face i guess you have to start gearing up, right?" you ask before placing the small box on the edge of the bed "you can start, it's a small surprise so i can show you while you get ready" and the smile on your lips mixed with your soft tone makes him feel so lucky to have someone as patient and understanding as you by his side.

he nods happily, getting out of bed to start pacing around the room while leaving soft pecks on your cheeks and temples when he walks next to you, small playful kisses on your lips when he stands in front of you to start changing his clothes. jason is being specially sweet and playful today and it just fuels the need to use that little new gift, it's just something you can't help but think when jason is stripping in front of you just to get into his black compression shirt and the tactical pants that just make his body look even hotter. as he starts putting onto his armor you sit, legs crossed on the bed as your hands hold the box with a wide smile "so can i steal your attention a little now?" and jason turns his head around to look at you before nodding, going to stand in front of you.

your hands toy a little with the pretty bow to open the box, revealing the not so small candle and the label on it and jason's face is a mix between a poem and a stream of ideas of how it can end up "babe– how do you plan on using that?" he asks, a low laugh escapes his lips and it sounds like a growl because of the ideas popping on his head "well, i think the idea is pretty clear" the playful smirk on your lips is driving him crazy but he has to go on patrol "are you gonna wait for me to come back? i'll try to be extra quick" and his voice sounds so excited, because it's what was missed to make this valentine's day the perfect one.

"extra quick? i wouldn't want you to get in troubles, jay..." you start but you know damn well he is going to insist "no, i will be back before you even notice" he rushes before leaning in to kiss your lips in a firm and deep touch, hands on your hips to push your body a little into the matress and any idea of making him go with his full patrol vanishes when he bites your bottom lip and grunts a little into your mouth.

he pulls away, triumphant smile on his face before he walks out of the room to get his helmet and you rush to put the candle on the little night stand next to your bed before lithing it in the exact same moment jason sets a foot back on the room, stopping on his tracks as soon as the smell of vainilla hits his nose "sweetheart..." he starts but his first instinct is to pick his phone up to call dick.

if he was going to ask for a favour he was going to make it worth it, you lit the candle and he really couldn't think of anything else to do. probably the best gift for you both because it could help him expend more time with you.

"dick, c'mon! i'll do anything you want me to, i swear it's important" you can hear his voice and the urge on his tone as he speaks on the phone "it's not my fault i actually have a valentine's date!"

it makes you chuckle because it only lets you know how much he wanted to accomplish what you were asking him and to wait a little for him your eyes drift to the label just to find out the candle could be used in a few more ways than just start an encounter.

"it's a dinner date, okay? we made reservations!" jason sounds almost desperate at this point.

"jay! it's a body wax candle! can we try wax play?" you ask, not even noticing your voice could be heard through his phone.

"so dinner date, huh? i don't want the details, i'll cover you with bruce"

[adventuringblind]

Daddy Issues Part 2

Max Verstappen X Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Requested: No, but I'm in a writing mood, so I'm taking requests for Max and Charles. *Silently begs for people to not be shy*

Summary: Jos may have been dealt with for now, but parental issues for the two lovers are far from it.

Warnings: DADDY ISSUES... again, mentions of verbal, emotional, and physical abuse, not proofread (I don't even proofread my college papers), Jos is a warning himself

Notes: This part is written in the second person perspective because it's more geared toward the readers' struggles. Jos does make a reappearance. At this point, it's completely self-indlugent. I'm writing from similar experiences, so please be gracious.

Also, I posted things about a novel I'm currently working on. If you have a chance, please give it a look! You can find it on my masterlist.

Masterlist // Part one // Part three

You were naïve to think that your troubles would be over after the interaction with Jos.

The air around you and Max had become significantly lighter. Max even opened up about things to his friends and was able to smile more during races.

You loved watching him. The light in his eyes even when coming in second or third.

You thought maybe the two of you would be able to heal and move forward. Max had been thriving the last six months. Both physically and mentally because of the steps he'd been taking to get there.

However, you had a different story. While Max had been able to cut off contact with Jos, you had your dad to deal with still.

Thankfully, your dad was good at putting on his best performance around people. It was the reason very few people had the privilege of understanding your relationship with your family.

You'd wanted to cut him off originally, but you couldn't because you still felt the underlying need to please him. Your mom is in a similar situation, and your sibling(s) who still had yet to be able to make that choice.

You hadn't told Max yet. Things had gotten worse for you recently. You didn't want to ruin his current state of joy.

A people pleaser by heart.

So you hid that part away and put on your best face as you basked in Max's smiles. The warmth of them helping you mask yourself.

Until it started to fall apart.

The first encounter was once again with Jos. You found him in hospitality during a race. Immediately getting defensive and ready to call security.

That was until you noticed him having a conversation with your father. The two seeming to have a lively discussion.

Then they noticed you. Hand beckoning you to come closer.

Cautiously, you approached the table. Choosing not to take a seat and standing at the end instead.

"Good to see you again! I hope you haven't missed me too much since we last spoke." Jos' voice sounded like sandpaper in your ears. The bruise on your cheek had long since healed, but being near him brought back the stinging feeling of his hand.

"I hadn't realized you both were coming." Your voice came out shakily. Fingers crossed that they didn't catch on to your ever-growing anxiety.

"Jos managed to get passes and invited me to come along. Since you and Max are close he figured we should be too." Your father explained. "Though I'm shocked they didn't come from Max himself."

You tried hard not to grimace. The realization that you might have to explain why doing nothing to help your panic creeping in slowly.

"I bet if you were as successful as Max, you wouldn't need him to give us the passes." Your father laughs in your direction.

"What is it you do again?" Jos suddenly turning towards you. A hint of a smirk on his lips.

"I'm in psychology."

"No wonder you need Max's money."

"Bet she has Max hypnotized with her knowledge of the brain or something."

The two were cracking up now. Laughing at your expense.

Your dad calmed down a moment. Breathing deeply to get his breath back. His face became neutral again, noticing the obvious frown you now dawned. "It was a joke, Y/N. There's no need to get upset. Max isn't going to be able to handle you eventually if you don't get thicker skin.

You'd had enough. Not wanting to cry in front of everyone, you turn to head back to the garage. Maybe even to hide in Max's driver room for a moment.

Though you didn't get far before a hand caught your wrist. "Stop ignoring me. It's disrespectful, and I am still your father." You didn't turn around. Didn't want him to see you cry. "I have you a life that was better than mine. My father would have never even tried. Yet, you still don't listen to me. Get your act together soon, please."

To outsiders, he sounded sincere. You, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing.

Yanking your hand back, you continue walking without giving the two older men a second glance.

If you were home, you would lock yourself in your room til he threatened to take your door. Then, you would shower and hide in the bathroom. If that didn't work, you would try to look productive and cry silently so he couldn't be mad at you for doing such an action as letting the tears roll. He thinks it's over dramatic.

Somtimes he would take to slamming things around. Doors, chairs, his phone, things in his room, not at you but purposely loud.

It didn't matter how hard you worked, it would never be enough. This is how you and Max are able to understand each other. You knew exactly what the other needed because both of you have lived this.

As soon as the race was over, you went to celebrate Max and his victory. The moment was joyful for him. Making a mental note to tell him what happened earlier, you decided now definitely wasn't the time.

Neither was when you got back to your hotel room after celebrating. Or when you took a phone call from your dad with more lovely words that made you feel disgusting in your own skin. Or the plane ride back to Monaco. Or when you got home and immediately went to shower because your entire body felt like it was dirty from nothing but your dad and Jos harassing you.

You didn't tell your mom either, she had enough things to deal with. You didn't tell anyone for that matter.

Max had caught on when he noticed you weren't sleeping. When you weren't eating. When you started apologizing excessively. Habits he thought he broke when he was able to get you to move in with him through constant reassurance.

Now, you were moving backward while he was moving forward.

Then he put the pieces together. He only wished he saw it sooner. Could've stopped what happened before it was pulled like a ruug out from under him.

You had flown home to see your sibling(s) for a week. You missed them dearly and wanted to spend time with them while Max was away.

It had started smoothly, your dad being civil with you, a few sarcastic remarks thrown around here and there, but nothing too bad.

He was trying to convince you to come back home, where you belonged. You kept brushing him off, telling him you're happy where you are now.

It only got worse from there. Your father and Jos had gotten closer over time. He had coincidentally come knocking at the door while you were there. He said he was in the area and wanted to say hello.

Your sibling(s) had tried to get you out of the house, but you only said it would make things worse. It earned you some feelings of sadness, but they left you to converse regardless.

The four of you sat in the living room. Your mom and you mostly listen to the two men catching up.

Then your mom left to make dinner. You stood up with the intention of following before being stopped by the pair.

"Jos tells me Max has been ignoring him."

Your tempted to roll your eyes but refrain in case he's paying close attention.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could tell me the reason behind it. Have you been filling his head with lies about our exchange awhile back?" Jos' smirk makes you want to hit him. Again you refrain, knowing that he can and will hurt you if you're out of line.

"He saw why happened." You state. Making a move to hold your ground.

"He hears what you said as he came inside. He fell for the obvious manipulation. I can't believe you even blamed the bruise on me." He fakes a look of offense.

Your father shakes his head on disgust. Your body goes rigid. Voices begin sounding like they're underwater. You hang your head in defeat as they continue to accuse you of things you would never do.

"Stop it!" You snapped. Something in you breaking loose.

In seconds, a cup was shattered against the wall, and your face was burning with the sting of someone's palm.

You know you had to leave. The adrenaline from your flight response is kicking in.

So you ran, grabbing what you could and quickly exiting the house. Your mom is doing her best to keep her distance from your dad while he throws his temper tantrum and Jos convincing him that I am an entitled brat.

You definitely didn't have all your stuff, but it didn't matter. You called an Uber and found your way back to the airport. Finding and flight back to Monaco you could.

You received a few texts from your dad before blocking him and called the rest of your family to apologize for your behavior and say you'd wished you'd had more time.

Then you called Max. You hand messaged him back since mid-morning and he was starting to get concerned.

"Hello Lovely, is everything alright? I haven't heard much from you today?" His cheery voice made your smile just a little.

"Yes, but I'm coming home early. I'm on an early flight back home." Your voice is on the verge of breaking. You send a silent prayer that he doesn't catch one.

You hear his phone buzzing with notifications. "How were things at the factory?" You ask, making an attempt to change the subject.

"Is was alright, did some marketing and PR things today. Daniel says Hello." He chuckles. "My dad has been texting me though, which is odd."

You hear him sigh deeply. "Are you sure you're okay? Because he's trying to convince me of things I know aren't true."

"Your dad was there visiting mine coincidentally." The damage holding back your tears was coming loose. "I messed everything up again."

"Mijn liefje, you did nothing of the sort." His voice once again had that gentle tone. One that made you feel safe. "I'm not sure how fast I can he back in Monaco, but I'll meet you there as soon as I can."

By the time you had landed, it was early in the morning. You considered just waiting in the airport until it was brighter and then walking home since Max was still in Austria. So, the text that came from Lando that he was coming to get you was a bit of a shock.

You were relieved when he pulled in. Satey once again within your reach.

"Thanks for coming to get me."

"No worries, Max called and asked if I could. Said it was a bit on an emergency but didn't say what happened." He smiled at you, trying to get you to become less defensive.

You hadn't realized how tense you still were. Your body is still trying to shrink in on itself.

You attempted small talk until he pulled into up to the apartment. "Thanks again for the ride." Then you rushed inside as fast as possible.

The floor became your best friend. Everything after opening the door became blurry.

When you woke up later on the bathroom floor with Max's sweatshirt as your pillow, you had no idea how it happened.

Texts from Max and Lando lined your notification wall. Your body too heavy to move however, you resigned to back to the comfort of the floor and the comforting smell of Max.

The next time you woke up, you heard keys jingling in the door.

You curled into yourself. Hiding from the inevitably of confronting what happened only a day earlier.

"Love, are you here? I'm home!"

You wanted to crawl to him. Seek comfort in his arms. But your own mind was stopping you. Replaying everything that they said about you.

You heard him drop his bags and begin his search. Bedroom, kitchen, office, terrace, then finally bathroom. He knew he should have checked their first. The bathroom had always been your safe space. He often found you just sitting in the empty bathtub if life felt overwhelming.

He peeked around the corner, his face instantly softening at the sight of you.

Neither of you said anything as he crouched down next to you. Unsure the extent of what happened, he refrained from touching you.

"Can I hug you?" His voice almost a whisper. As if speaking any louder would shatter you like that glass your dad had thrown as you made your escape.

You slowly nod yes but make no effort to move. You end up not having to as Max pulls you into his arms. Your body draped over his lap.

You felt so small in this moment, with his hand caressing the back of your head.

The dam broke. A hard sob wracked your body. Wailing into Max's chest.

"You're safe now, I got you." He whispered. His hold unrelenting until the tears were able to slow.

"I'm so sorry." Your voice muffled from his chest. "You were so happy I didn't want to ruin it, so I didn't tell you."

"I'm happiest when I know you are also doing well. You can't ruin that for me. I love you too much to see you like this." He pulled your face back, his soft eyes meeting yours.

He was finally able to take in the bruise on your cheek. Once again, not able to stop the unrelenting force of your fathers misdemeanors against you both.

He was angry, you could tell. You saw the rage flash through his eyes.

Knowing that's not what you needed right now, though, he softened again. "Who did this to you love?"

You began rapidly shaking your head no. Not wanting to relive it and not wanting to make things more difficult for him. "I can't-" you started.

"It's my job to make sure you're safe because I love you. It's not going to be an inconvenience." He always knew what to say.

"Jos." Was all you could muster before you were crying into his shoulder again.

You told him everything. All the events in the past few months. Every awful word spoken towards you. How he understood you, you have no idea.

The two of you stayed like that until you fell asleep in Max's arms. Knowing you couldn't stay here forever, he brought you to the bed and tucked you in. His lips on your forehead the last sensation before you were completely lost to your subconscious.

MAX'S POV

Everything about the situation made him want to break down. He thought he would finally be able to move on. He did, kind of, but left you behind in the process.

He knew something was wrong but didn't want to force you to open up. You needed to process things longer and came to him when you were ready.

This situation affected you differently though. Your response to your father had always been inward. Taught from a young age just to take it and nit talk about it. Convinced that you shouldn't paint your home life as bad because you had a roof over your head and food on your table.

He understands, though his reactions are different. Often not understanding that something was wrong and just talking about it like it was normal.

Daniel was the first to question, and you were the first to get him like nobody else.

You broke eachothers bad habits you'd learned from years of toxicity. Started learning better communication. Working through things and understanding eachothers responses.

He could never thank you enough for your help with his dad. Standing up for him despite the physical altercation was brave. He knew it was hard for you but you loved him enough to do it anyways.

Now, it was his turn to help you through this. He didn't care how long it took.

The bruise on your cheek only sparked a fire in him. He was tired of the hurt your fathers were causing. He knew now that both of you deserved better.

So, he would help it get better.

[fiapartridge]

🥥 adam fantilli again bc tay and adam are my 2 fav things!!!!!!

STOP ADAM AND TAY R SUCH A POWERFUL COMBO AND HE IS SOOOOO YOU BELONG WITH ME CODED LIKE IK ITS SO BASIC but it's the cutest song ever and he's the cutest

and this was actually so fucking cute to write UGH I LOVEDDD THIS

His head rested on your lap, your hands raking through his hair as he vented to you about the events that took place earlier that night. “And then she said I didn't care about her. I- I mean, I didn’t mean to make her feel that way. I just–”

“Wait, so just let me get this straight. She told you to buy her a $2,000 dress, and you said no because you couldn’t afford it—understandably—and she got mad at you? I mean, Adam—”

“You’re making her seem like she’s a bad person,” he said, sitting up and taking the spot across from you on your tiny twin sized bed. You two sat in your dorm room, doing your daily talk about what Katerina, Adam’s girlfriend, did this time. And it hurt knowing that the guy you have been in love with your entire life is in love with someone else, but he was your best friend, you had no choice but to stand back and support him.

You met Adam when you were 14 when he joined his brother at Kimball Union Academy in New Hampshire. You were initially friends with Luca having met him in the library at school. He was struggling with math and every time you heard him get an equation wrong on those flimsy little flashcards, you cringed a little. So, taking it upon yourself (you were quite the confident 14-year-old), you sat down next to him, outstretched your hand, introduced yourself as his new tutor, and shooed away the poor kid who desperately thanked you for getting him out of that. 

After a year of tutoring Luca, you two became inseparable, and when you heard that his younger brother was coming to play hockey for the school, you knew you had to meet him. And, most of the time, you were glad that you did, except for nights like these.

You laughed incredulously. “Adam, she got mad at you for not being able to afford an expensive dress. She’s not really the best person.”

“She might not be the best all the time—”

You scoffed, grabbing his hands and holding them in yours as you stared at him intently. “You deserve someone who is the best all the time; someone who genuinely makes you happy; who doesn’t leave you like this every single night.” You deserve me, you wanted to say, but you clamped your lips shut before your true feelings could ever manage to escape.

Huffing and dismissing your words, he pushed you to the side, laying down on the small space beside you. His hands resting behind his head, he stared at the ceiling as you kept your arms secured to your sides. Sometimes you were scared to get too close to him, afraid of what you might do in a fit of spontaneity, scared that you could ruin your entire friendship in one heated moment. 

“This whole girlfriend thing is so complicated,” he murmured absentmindedly before turning to the side, facing you. “Still up for the marriage at 30 rule?”

You shook your head, breathing out a laugh. “You wanna say that when you have a girlfriend right now?”

Adam shrugged. “Just taking extra precautions.”

Rolling your eyes, you spun onto your side, looking at him dead-on. “What if I end up in a relationship and you don’t?”

“Then I’ll ruin his fucking life,” he replied, a small smile dancing on his lips. You knew he was joking, but sometimes you wished he wasn’t. You wished he saw a life where you could be the one he marries, a life where he could be happy with you, not just as an extra precaution, but because he really wanted to. 

“Will Kat be at the game tomorrow?” you asked randomly, as if the question just morphed itself out of thin air. She was never there. She was always busy with something: shopping with the girls, working out with a classmate, practicing cheer drills. You were so convinced that she has never even seen Adam in his hockey gear. 

You were there every game, cheering him on from the student section, pretending not to catch the disappointed expression on his face every time he realized she wasn’t there—again. 

And just like time and time before, Adam with his ever present hopeful spirit, sighed and said, “Hope so.”

—

They were up 4-1. 

The children of Yost screamed so loud, you were sure that the top of the building could fly off at any minute. And just as Rutger Mcgroarty scored the last and final game-winning goal, making the score 5-1, the crowd burst into another set of chants as you watched the boys jump each other on the ice. Everyone looked so happy, and for the first time, that happiness included Adam.

You waited in the lobby, ready to congratulate him and the rest of the team on the win, like you do every game. Truth be told, you loved seeing a freshly showered Adam, high off a well-deserved win. And expecting to have to find his tall figure in the crowd of students, you jumped back as he found you immediately.

The lobby was crowded, excited conversations filing into the room, leaving Adam to shout in your direction. “I saw you out there!”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You see me every time!”

He smiled, his brows furrowing simultaneously as if realizing something. In mere seconds, he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the exit. You wanted to protest, to tell him that you had to congratulate the rest of the boys, especially Luca, but Adam was holding your hand and it felt so perfect. It felt like this was your life. Adam holding your hand, pulling you to secluded spaces, spaces meant just for the two of you. It felt like it was meant to be, like you were made for this; for him.

You guys rounded the side of the building, your arms hugging your body as the snow slowly rained down on you two. The lights outside flickered dimly, but you saw his smile, and you didn’t care about anything but him. In your mind, it was just Adam, Adam, Adam. 

“It’s so easy with you,” is the first thing he said. You pulled your brows together, confused as to what he meant by that. Noticing your expression, he went on. “I mean, tell me the last time you missed one of my games.”

You scoffed. “You are a conceited little shit, aren’t you?”

He shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “C’mon, just tell me.”

You racked your brain, trying to think back to the last time you missed one. And then, as if a lightbulb lit in your brain, you finally remembered. You think he remembered too. “We were 16, you were playing for the Chicago Steel, and I was dying from swine flu because your ass decided to make me a grilled cheese with expired butter.”

“Okay, okay!” He held his hands up in defense. “I did rush to your aid after the game, though.”

“Yeah, and you agreed to get me a wet towel if I watched an hour of your game highlights,” you retorted, the conversation replacing the chills in your body with warm, happy memories.

He stuffed his cold hands in his pockets, shrugging. “Well, my point is!” he said, sending you into a fit of laughter. 

“You are so stupid!”

“And that was so uncalled for!” he chuckled, tilting his head down at you. You looked like some sort of snow princess with the white flakes delicately landing on your hair. Your cute nose was red and he watched you shiver as he slipped his arms around your torso, pulling you to his chest as your arms instinctively wrapped around him. It was foreign for the two of you to be hugging, but this one felt different.

“My point is,” he restarted. “you have been to almost all of my games.”

You nodded in response, wondering where this was going. And you were even more curious when he said, “What’s my favorite color?”

With no hesitation, you responded with, “Blue.”

“Where was I born?”

“Are you really making me do an Adam Fantilli quiz? I mean, I knew your ego was high, but—”

“C’mon,” he laughed, resting his chin on your head.

You smiled. “Nobleton.”

“My real name?”

“Adamo,” you answered before taking a step back from his grasp. “She didn’t know that?”

He shrugged. “She didn’t know anything about me—not like you do.”

You sighed. You didn’t want to do this while he was with Kat. While you didn’t like her, it felt wrong to think about him like this when you felt that, maybe just maybe, he might be thinking about you in the same way. “Adam—”

“I broke up with her last night when I left your dorm.”

Your head raised, meeting his gentle gaze. You were shocked. He liked her so much, I mean, he was defending her the entire night. What happened?

Holding your hands, just as you hand done to him the night before, he took a step closer as you felt the heat radiate off of him and onto you. “You told me I deserve someone who makes me happy. I deserve someone who won’t miss a single game unless I food poisoned her, who knows me—not just surface level me—who doesn’t make me feel bad about anything. I’m convinced I have never felt bad when I’m with you. You belong with me, Y/N, and... I have only ever belonged to you."

[ofmermaidstories]

I’m thinking about coming home to see father bakugo and your daughter sitting in the living with her doing his make up 🥹 and I wanted to share that with you

and it’s your best makeup too. 😒 maybe you have like, idk, one of those hobbyist metal toolboxes that opens in tiers—katsuki bought it for you one year and at the time you had laughed. it wasn’t originally for your makeup—it’s so utilitarian, in it’s dark green. but it matches the black one katsuki had bought for himself, filled with the fine-tipped tools he uses sometimes, to repair his gear at home. 🥺 and you had liked that. 🥺 you liked that he had used something and liked it enough to want to share it with you, too. and now it’s yawning open, pilfered, your expensive eyeshadow in it’s heavy lacquered case in your daughter’s hand, your favourite lipsticks rolling around on the floor like bullet-shell casings.

and you’ve got to give them credit!!! katsuki would never let her be careless with your stuff, even if he thinks the prices you pay for some of them is ridiculous. your daughter is careful, using light fingers even as she frowns at the shimmer she’s smearing under your husband’s brows. they have the same clear, fierce gaze—when you drop your bag they both swivel to look at you, the two of them similarly glittering and rosy and your heart tightens and swells like a balloon, too full for it’s own good.

it’s so funny. your little girl is so like katsuki in moments, standoffish and assessing but when she sees you her face lights up and she’s bounding from her spot, your eyeshadow compact still in her hand as she flings herself at you, letting you pepper her face with kisses.

“you’ve done such a good job,” you tell her, brushing back her hair from her face as she grins, wide and sharp and exactly like her father.

there’s a clatter; katsuki, scooping up your errant lipsticks before standing, the leopard haul of his weight as he squints, moving to you both.

“very pretty,” you tell him fondly, reaching out to touch his jaw. his lips are shinning—a nude lip, widely applied. he bites at your palm, even as your kid makes a small, annoyed noise between you as his hand settles on her head, and when he leans in to kiss you, you smile into the taste of your lipstick.

[gretavanlace]

Sugar II (part 3)

18+ plus only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult themes, angst, discussions of alcohol consumption, etc

Thank you all so much for your patience while I was out of town…I love you and never intentionally keep you waiting! You’re my babies!! ❤️❤️

“Why am I always the last to know everything?” Sam slips into Josh’s dressing room, shirtless and as always, slapping along on two bare feet “Is it because I’m the youngest, or are you just an asshole?”

In contrast to his brother, Josh drips in beaded satin; glitter swept deftly across his eyes; rhinestones grabbing at the light until he winks and flashes like a star against its midnight sky.

No one would expect anything less. He is always the first to be found wandering the hallowed arena halls, made up and shining like old Hollywood royalty. It soothes him…a lullaby masquerading as expensively tailored glitz. You used to help him…zipping up jumpsuits he could have easily secured himself, fussing over his hair, lint rolling velvet, laughing and chattering away to keep his mind off that unforgiving anxiety of his. They are memories he cherishes and thinks of nearly every time he primps.

They each have their rituals - Daniel bangs around on a kit until his arms are loose and his mind is buzzing with adrenaline. Sam terrorizes the crew and his brothers with his trusty four-legged sidekick, shaking off the jitters with hijinks. And Jake scrutinizes his gear meticulously, checking the work of techs and roadies who definitely know what they’re doing. He usually finds something to pick apart anyway. It sharpens his focus and quiets his mind.

Josh steps into costume and becomes someone else. Someone he often doesn’t recognize…who is this person with such charisma and grace? He who commands the attention of crowd after crowd roaring and shaking the rafters? He who is worthy of such primal, hungry fervor?

That is how he finds the spotlight night after night. While the others do their own things, Josh quietly dresses and becomes someone, something, else.

And so, draped in his finery, he watches Sam through the mirror as he flops into a chair, all legs and attitude. “By all means, Samuel, make yourself at home.”

“Were you even going to tell me that she’s here? She always liked me best, you know? She was just too sweet to mention it to you idiots.”

Josh turns with a chorus of clattering glass beads, and leans back against the vanity, arms folded “One, I haven’t even seen you since I found out, so you’ll forgive me. Two, I knew Daniel would break his fucking neck to be the first to tell you,” He shrugs, “figured I’d let him have his moment.”

Popping open a White Claw, Sam ignores his brother's carping in favor of a question “You see her yet?”

“Yes,” Josh turns back to his reflection, patting a fingertip lightly over his eye makeup.

Never in possession of any patience to speak of - the baby of the family rarely is - Sam immediately prods him along. “And?”

He’s met with a sigh, “And what? I went to see her, we caught up for a little while, and then I left. That was that.”

“I went to see her,” there’s a mocking, obnoxious quality to Sam’s tone as he parrots Josh “we caught up for a while and then I— would you shut up? What happened? How is she?”

“She’s...I don’t know. She’s herself and not herself. She looked sad.” The revelation comes with a sadness of its own. “She’s getting married, so she shouldn’t have looked so damn miserable...but she did, and I hated it. It almost made me wish I hadn’t even knocked on her door.”

“I’m usually sad when you knock on my door, too.” Sam deadpans, attempting to lighten the mood at least a little.

“Must you lie, Samuel? You’re stricken with joy when I enter a room, just like everybody else.”

“Christ,” Sam mutters, tossing Josh a white claw to match his own, “I swear, if you could suck your own dick, you would.”

Josh cracks it open and slurps with a dramatic flourish, “Obviously.”

“Why do you think she looks so miserable?” Sam is pondering, turning something over in his mind with worry evident in his eyes.

“Probably because she knows she’ll likely have to see you. That’d be my guess, anyway.”

Josh is disguising his own knotted up stomach with humor. Sammy knows it, and chooses to ignore the dig.

They settle into their drinks until Sam speaks up once again, “She’s getting married? That’s just…” he quiets, unsure and still bristling with concern, “How are you gonna tell him? You gotta wait until after the show, that’s for sure.”

For once in his life, Josh has been rendered temporarily speechless, and that answers the question just fine.

“Are you serious?” Sam leans forward, elbows on his knobby knees, “You can’t be serious.”

“How am I going to tell him?” Now they’re just lobbing questions back and forth at one another. “You can’t be serious!”

Sam’s eyes widen, shocked and hurting for Jake in his absence. It would almost be comical if the situation could lend itself to anything other than this crushing weight, “We have to tell him, Josh. This isn’t okay. He has the right to—“

Suddenly, Josh pushes away from the vanity and the energy radiating from him shifts until he looks nearly frantic, “He has the right to what, Sam? To know? To see her? Have you lost your fucking mind? Put him in a room with her and we’re right back where we started. Three years progress,” his fingers snap harshly, “Poof! gone in a goddamn second.”

Matching his energy, Sam is on his feet in an instant, “Progress? Now whose lost his fucking mind? What progress are we talking about here, Josh? Because from where I’m standing, he’s made none. For his twin you’re remarkably ignorant.”

“I’m not ignorant,” this is bad, especially right before they’re expected to perform. They both know it, but on they march. “I know him backwards and forwards, Sammy, so just fucking listen to me for once. She stays in the past for him and that’s just the way it’s gonna be, end of discussion.”

“She stays in his past, or yours?” Sam counters, sizing his eldest brother up as though he can see right through him.

Shoulders slumped, Josh shakes the venom in Sammy’s accusation off “That isn’t fair.”

“I don’t give a shit. Answer the question.”

Sometimes, Sam readies for battle in a manner that always comes as a shock no matter how many times they’ve seen it happen. When he sheds that goofball demeanor in favor of a game face, it hardly seems real.

He is fierce in his love and loyalty to those he holds close, and tonight, Jacob has earned his favor.

“This isn’t about me, I promise you that.” The truth rings out clear in Josh’s vow. “I loved her once, I love her still, just differently now. I couldn’t do that to him. Not ever. The way he loved her canceled me out a long time ago.”

“Loves her.” Sam corrects, with a finger pointed at his brother to drive home his point.

“All the more reason to keep your mouth shut.” Josh’s timbre is threatening in a way it almost never is. It sounds and feels strange…out of place. “She’s getting fucking married, do you really think he can handle that? Use your fucking head, Sam. Leave it alone.”

Hand on the door handle, Sam watches Josh as if he’d very much like to hurt him, “Who are you to decide what he can and can’t handle?”

~

The show is their worst in their collective memory since their days as greenhorns, though it’s doubtful the fans have taken notice. Each mishap is small and easily disguised, but present all the same. They are unsteady and off-kilter, but only Jake is oblivious as to why.

He snaps a string, misses a mark, foils a riff or two. Josh falls flat and overcompensates, vibrato ringing out sharp. Sam refuses to look in his eldest’s brother’s direction, leaving them detached and removed in an unsettling way. Danny is on point from a technical standpoint, but robotic…their chemistry has vanished tonight and they can all feel it.

The moment they stalk off stage, Sam is clamoring for Jake’s attention as Josh fights to intercept.

Most nights, they’ll filter off into their respective solitude for a time to bask in the quiet before the noise of the bus. Tonight, Sam follows Jake, and Josh follows Sam.

“Jake,” Sam jogs along, easily closing the distance his brother has gained ahead of him with those lanky legs of his. “Hold up, I need to talk to you.”

“It can wait.” Jake is on a mission, clearly in a hurry to close a door and shut out the world. To find a bottle and make love to the whiskey inside it.

“No, it can’t because—“

“He said it can wait, Sam.”

Josh’s admonishment, and the viciousness it’s crackling with, is what turns Jake around. It makes no sense for his twin to be this hostile over something so innocuous; over some random conversation Sam would like to have that doesn’t even involve him.

He turns to find Josh’s glare burning murderously in Sam’s direction. The air emanating from him is in such dramatic contrast to the sunny ray of entertaining light that has just been beaming around the stage, and immediately, Jake senses the urgency of the moment.

On his part, Josh feels the switch flip inside his twin and knows that they’re about to head into dangerous territory. Fucking Sam.

“What?” Jake is furiously fumbling with his hair, shoving sweat soaked snarls away from his face, suddenly overstimulated and on edge. “What is it?”

Sammy speaks up, fighting to be heard clearly as crew members dart around and rush by in a flurry of tasks. “She’s here. Well, not here, but at the hotel.”

Defeated, Josh admits his loss with a quiet “God damn it, Sam.”

Jake somehow manages to catch it over the din and he knows. Or at least, he thinks he knows. He can feel it coming off of Josh like ghostly fingers stretching out to claw at his chest. Still, he doesn’t quite understand, the pieces are just this shy from falling into place.

“Who?” His query is tentative…filled with hopefulness and also a strange terror. A fear he’s only ever felt once before, when, helpless and shattered, he had to watch you say goodbye. A torturous longing only you can evoke.

Sam’s lips part to speak, but Josh shoves past him, grabbing Jake by the arm with black beads shaking about on his shoulders. “No one. Go shower. Have a drink.”

Somehow, Josh’s grip tells Jake everything. All that feverish panic seeps into the fabric of his jacket, somehow chilling his flesh with its burn. “She’s here?” His entire body is rattling with frenetic energy and he wonders if he might crumple to the ground and spark like a downed power line if Josh were to let go of him.

“Jake,” his name is a coddling whisper on his twin's lips, “Leave. Now. C’mon, I’ll go with you. You know what’s best, I know you do.”

As it turns out, Jake doesn’t hit the ground like a live wire, because when he shoves Josh off, his footing is sure. “How did you know she was here? You knew? And you weren’t gonna fucking tell me? Have you seen her?”

Ashamed, and afraid of what’s to come, Josh remains silently stoic under his brother’s eager and furious scrutiny.

“I said, have you fucking seen her?” Now Jake’s body is vibrating with a fury so out of control it’s threatening to boil over and scald anyone in its path.

Suddenly, Danny appears as though summoned by the gods of intervention, as he so often seems to be. He steps in, tugging Jake away from his brothers while staring daggers at Sam.

Sam never fucking thinks…or is he the only one who is actually thinking clearly this time around?

“Come on,” Jake is stumbling around on his feet to keep up with a much larger Daniel, as he drags him along to his dressing room.

It feels like a fever dream when at last he pushes Jake into a chair before shutting their brothers out with a door slammed in their faces.

“Look,” he finds a seat in front of Jake and places a hand on his bouncing knee. “You’ve got to calm down and think for a minute. Do you really want to see her? I mean…”

He isn’t given the chance to finish his sentence, because nothing any of them can say will matter anyway.

“Take me to her.” Neither of them could have any way of knowing that Jake’s plea mirrors the one you had struggled to swallow down in Danny’s arms.

“I don’t know where she is.” He speaks in honesty, and Jacob can sense that.

“Find out.” He rises to his feet and straightens his back, resolved and ready to fight for this. Ready to fight for you. “Josh knows, that fuck. Go find out.”

“Alright,” Daniel nods because what’s to be done now? What’s to pointlessly fight? “Shower in here. I’ll go talk to him.”

~

You’re mindlessly staring at the television screen, gaze blurring and focusing in and out as some chef with a lovely accent you can’t seem to place tosses ingredients round a hissing wok.

The entire room is awash in the scent of the shower you’ve just wept your way through, and the robe you’re swaddled in feels stiff and scratchy. You should change, you know, but you haven’t the energy. Better to lie here uncomfortable and twisted up in aching sadness, that old friend of yours whom you’ve denied for far too long.

Lie to yourself all you want. Shove it inside a box and lock it up tight with chains and latches until it rusts shut, but that throbbing agony will wait patiently for you. Never losing focus, ever vigilant for the moment it can blast its way back into your broken heart.

How you’ll ever rise and put on a professional face for brunch in the morning is a cipher you don’t care to decode tonight.

He’s all you can think of; memories of him. Loneliness for him. The need, so real and palpable. It’s as if you can smell him on your skin though he hasn’t swept his fingers across it in years.

Years? How is that even possible? It seems laughable that you’ve managed so long without him. It seems impossible. A nightmare that you’ve been muddling through.

When the knock sounds out, clipped and sure, at your door, you’re tempted to ignore it - and you even give it a go, but it comes again along with a cheery greeting “Room service!”

You haven’t ordered room service at all, but there stands a smart looking hotel employee, dressed to the hilt in his crisp uniform, waiting patiently beside a cart, when you peer through the peep-hole.

Tightening that terrible robe, you crack open the door, readying to let him know he’s made a mistake, when a hand darts out to push several folded up bills into the server’s hand.

Stunned and struck silent, you manage only to stare as Jake gives thanks and sends him on his way, eyes never straying from your face.

He reaches for you instinctively, but thinks better of it and drops those hands you know so well to his sides, flexing them as if to shake the need to touch you away.

Instead, he opts to offer a soft smile and a gentle joke “Hey, sugar, how’d we get to this place where I’ve got to pay off hotel employees to knock on your door for me, hmm?”

“I—“ You give your head a tiny shake, begging the thoughts rattling around inside it to make sense.

He looks so different. His hair is shorter, and he’s filled out, thickened in a way that makes your throat constrict for all you’ve missed. He’s as beautiful as ever. Alluring and changed, but still just him. Familiar and breathtaking. Perfect and right. Yours. But yours no longer.

Strangely, it’s what he’s wearing that makes you weakest and a little unsteady. He’s dressed in tattered sweats and a beaten up t-shirt. Thrashed vans that were stark white in another life, and damp hair, clearly brushed in a hurry. You love this so much more than if he’d strutted back into your life dressed to the nines. You’d hate to think he’d forgotten you enough to think that sort of thing might impress you.

“Are you gonna invite me in or should I just stand out here in the hallway all night watching you?”

A laugh, breathy and dumbfounded, huffs out of you. You remember the first time he’d said those words to you, and surely he does too. Was that a calculated effort on his part? To remind you of where you’ve been together? Of who you were together?

It’s an awful, self-destructive idea, inviting him in, and you know it is, you do. But when he steps into the room, you can smell him and the fist that has been cruelly clenched around your heart for countless days and nights, relaxes and finally, finally, you can breathe.

The door closes with a click and he’s suddenly so close you could taste his breath if you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to sink into it.

“Hi, pretty girl,” He hushes, and you wish his mouth was pressed against your ear so you could secret that quiet greeting away and live on it for the rest of your days.

All that white-hot closeness morphs into a hug. He’s hiding behind the platonic gesture, and so are you, but he can feel it, the way your body tenses and then melts against his own.

He feels as if he might disintegrate into a puddle of blackened anguish if he ever has to let you go, forever staining the horrendous hotel flooring where you once stood like an ethereal phantom sent to mend his heart. But a hideous reminder of where you once existed in this room with him for a few precious moments.

His hands have touched too many bodies to count since he last held you, but he has felt nothing until this moment.

No, he loathes the thought of letting you go, but he pulls back anyway, readying to let you lead this interaction. Alas, his palms find your cheeks all on their own, cupping the beautiful face he’s bartered with the devil for, that he’s prayed to god for, that he’s raged and begged for.

“My girl,” he wonders, like you can’t possibly be real. “My fucking girl.”

Your hands are molded over his, how did that happen? And then he’s releasing your face in order to lace your fingers together…he longs to touch you everywhere, but that isn’t okay any longer, is it? So he’s desperate for a way to latch onto you innocently.

He feels it then, and holds fast when you try to pull your hand away. Gaze - gorgeous honey swirling with caramel and horror - locked in on yours, he turns your hand to inspect the ring perched there like a weapon sent to destroy him.

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