#hell on zero technique

[boatslut]

ive been retopoing a mesh for like. 3 hours now. im so tired.

and ive only gotten the head done so far.

[cryss-heart]

for shits and giggles, i said if i got Lighter, i'd draw lightjane and. uh. i got M0S1 Lighter (with a bonus Lycaon and his sig, which brings my Lycaon to M1S2) within 200 pulls. so..... whoops.

[beevean]

Rosaly doesn’t breach the subject for three days.

For those three short days, life goes on as usual. The sun rises, husband and wife sleep and eat together, they have pleasant chit-chats about the life down in the village, their time is occupied by their respective house chores; except that Hector had always had a keen eye for the minute twitches in someone’s cheek, or the way they might dart their gaze around or let it wander off into the distance, and after he spent years basking in the beauty of Rosaly’s smile, it is impossible not to notice the small imperfections in the corners of her lips, like a glass places on the edge of a table.

Hector would have torn his stomach out of him with his bare hands, but he keeps waiting, for he can do nothing but swallow his bile. He has experienced worse, he tells himself; but back then, he had nothing worthy to lose.

Hector observes Rosaly’s eyes, and wonders the kind of thoughts that she is hiding from him, and then shies away before he can get a glimpse of them.

It serves him just fine.

He dares not break the gauzy silence between them, as he knows that for how much it is devouring him from the inside, it will be but a gentle caress compared his wife’s judgment. Hence, for three days, he lives the charade of a daily life moving his body without thought, while he repeats, like a book read and read again to the point of wearing down the pages, the memory of his confession.

As well as the memories that had floated back to the surface.

His old life. His joy at kneeling for a smiling, benevolent Lord. His fingers shaking under the strain of creating a new being. The stench of blood spilt for a just cause. Kisses stolen in the shadow, that turned into bites hard enough to leave dents.

Hector had been shattered into pieces, and he never had the strength, or the courage, of truly examining them and putting them back together in their original shape. Until now.

It was as if his eyes got adjusted to the darkness and he could spot more shapes and shadows where previously it was nothing but black.

Oh, what a snake Hector was. Rosaly was not the only person he had lied to.

Words once again elude him, slipping like smoke under his fingertips. Hector only knows that when he closes his eyes, keeping a hand on his chest to not touch anyone, his sight is tinted red, and his nostrils fill up with the smell of pulverized gems, and the phantom of a hand protected by a leather glove stroking his face burns his skin, and apologies tumble from his throat and get stuck on the tip of his tongue, with nowhere to go.

[sleepn0tfound]

That's MY Daughter

DC x Fem!Neglected!Batsis! Reader x Marvel [Just some midnight thoughts]

Bruce and Tim realised something odd about Stark Industries. Ever since a few months ago the technology being produced there had improved by an unbelievable amount. It was futuristic, nothing that this world has seen before. And the weirdest part of it is the fact that Tony Stark had offered to partner up with Wayne Enterprises. THE Tony Stark, Iron Man, the most egotisical man they knew had willingly offered to partner up with them? After years of being petty with Bruce and the JL?

Tim had been made to prepare to become the new CEO soon, thus he recently started taking up more work at Wayne Enterprises when the agreement was made. Though instead of Tony being the one to talk about ideas it was an unknown woman communicating with him about the ideas, the product, the marketing, etc. And the merge of the two companies was an absolute success, the marketing especially drawing in young adults. (courtesy of Tim and the mysterious women who seems to be around the same age as him)

Who was the mysterious women though? Well both Bruce and Tim could only come to one solution. The least known character to Bruce, to Batman, which says a lot considering the fact that he had made a contingency plan for every Avenger, every hero, including his own teammates, including himself, yet this one character was completely unknown, zero plans if she were to go rogue. And that drove Bruce crazy. Her file was blank. Every vital information was marked with the word 'unknown'. It had been making Bruce paranoid for years since she had appeared next to the Avengers.

The reassurance from the Avengers never helped. It was as if something was gnawing at him. After all how could he trust them anyways? (careful Bruce your trust issues are showing)

One of the only things they knew about her is that she is the main hacker/coder for the Avengers, hence the reason why the Avengers digital security was admittedly better than the Justice League's and how much faster they got, what should be, classified information. (no matter how much Bruce wants to deny it)

And her codename, Special Agent Reaper. No she wasn't originally an Avenger, she was crowned the most skilled assassin of this era, working under S.H.I.E.L.D and one of the sole reasons why all of the HYDRA agents that have sneaked into S.H.I.E.L.D have been successfully taken out, her name would pass by in the wind every so often, they might be rumours or the truth but no one truly knows. Hell even Ra's Al Ghul, The Demon’s Head, had acknowledged her once. Even Talia had admitted that Damian's fighting technique was made to mirror The Reaper's, the only difference is he used katanas while the Reaper, fittingly, uses a scythe.

But one thing was for sure. If you saw the shadow of a hooded figure you better run, though at that point it might be too late.

As the saying goes, "Beware of the Grim Reaper. Wherever it goes death follows closely behind.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“Ah! Brucie! Here you are!” Tony said, wine in hand as he approached Bruce at the gala. Well that was a first. He usually never played into the Brucie persona. Well nonetheless the show must go on.

“Tony!” Bruce threw himself at the other billionaire, acting as if he was drunk, ignoring the way Tony’s expression turned into a grimace for a split second.

As usual, they were both around other pretentious socialites who never seemed to run out of questions.

“Ah! Tony, I heard Stark Industries have been bringing in more money than ever.”

“Oh yes! It’s all because of this prodigy i had found. She actually was the reason why Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises had a collab. I might even give the company to her when I retire!" He let out a laugh that seems to emanate the word 'rich', a small smirk stayed on his lips as he heard the guests at the gala begin to whisper.

"Oh? Is that so? Then I would love to meet the person I have been working with this entire time." Tim Drake-Wayne said as he finally came out of the corner where he would usually stay in to observe rather than interact.

"Be my guest." A subtle challenge, as if Tony was daring him to go through with it as they locked eyes. A smirk on one face while a well practiced smile on the other.

Bruce let out a light hearted laugh as he tightened his grip around Tony, a subtle warning to stay away from his son, "Well then I wouldn't mind arranging a meeting! I'm sure you wouldn't mind the others joining." His tone had a slight change that even the most observant wouldn't realise.

Bruce could barely keep up the 'Brucie' act with Tony bragging about how Stark Enterprises profits have shot up with him finding a 'prodigy' and someone who will take over the company once he retires.

"Not at all. The more the merrier. I assume you wouldn't mind me inviting more people as well." Tony sipped his wine, he wasn't one to back out from a challenge, especially when he is so confident.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

This certainly wasn't how the Justice League and the Avengers expected their next meeting to happen. A petty fight between the two men that singlehandedly funds their respective teams causing all of them to be in one room together.

"Well then, Stark. Where is this prodigy that you speak so highly of?" Bruce said as he sported his famous batglare.

"I assure you she is on her way. She should just be right about done with her mission." Tony replied with the same tone, shooting a glare as well.

Meanwhile the two teams were watching this as if it was the most entertaining show they have seen.

.

.

.

"Hey I'm here." Y/n entered the hall, still wearing her assassin suit, though her signature black hood was down, revealing her face.

Silence seemed to engulf the room.

"Kid... Your hood."

"...Fuck."

hi! i might have disappeared for a month :D To those who are waiting for more parts of DC x Super/Kent!Reader it will come... eventually. I'm having the biggest writer's block for that specific AU so uhm yeah! I wasn't really planning on making that AU a series since it was mostly just me being bored and writing for the lols but since it received so much attention [thank you guys so much!] I have to do it now. i was doing some worldbuilding and already know how I want the reader to be and allat but I cant really think of how to shape the story ukukuk. so yeah stay tuned for that! also this thing was also just a blurb. Might make somewhat of continuation parts if I feel like it. [Also the neglected!batsis! fanfics I've been reading is getting to me. i have a feral urge to create a diff AU series for that] Also would you guys be interested in me creating a twitter/insta account or like a tele channel to post random things

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Y/n vs. Lando’s Simulator Addiction

Word count: 620

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Y/n is tired of Lando prioritizing his sim racing over romantic dates.

________________________________________________________

Y/n leaned against the doorway of Lando’s gaming room, arms crossed, watching him with an unimpressed expression. His eyes were glued to the triple monitors, fingers effortlessly working the wheel and pedals as if his life depended on it. The sound of tires screeching and engines roaring filled the room.

This had become their routine. Lando had free time? Straight to the sim. Morning? Sim. Afternoon? Sim. Midnight? Still sim. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his dedication—God, she loved how passionate he was—but she was starting to feel like she was competing with a machine for his attention.

“You know,” she finally spoke, making Lando flinch slightly, “I think I deserve some quality time that doesn’t involve me watching you pretend to drive a car.”

Lando barely spared her a glance. “Babe, this isn’t pretending. It’s training.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Training for what?”

“This is serious business,” he said, still hyper-focused. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Oh, that did it. Y/n straightened, jaw tightening. He wouldn’t get away with dismissing her like that.

“Okay, McSimBoy. Let’s make a bet,” she declared.

That finally got his attention. Lando paused the game and turned to her with a smirk. “Oh? You wanna bet me? On the sim? You’ve never even raced before.”

“Exactly,” she said, playing up her inexperience. “So, if I win, you owe me five romantic dates. I get to pick them, and no complaining.”

Lando laughed, tilting his head back. “This is the easiest bet I’ve ever made. And when I win?”

Y/n shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

He grinned. “Alright, then. You’re on.”

What Lando didn’t know was that Y/n had been training in secret for weeks—with none other than Max Verstappen as her coach.

“You know,” Max had said during their first training session, “this might be the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Y/n huffed, gripping the wheel as she tried to keep up with him on the Red Bull simulator. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or scared.”

“A bit of both,” Max smirked.

Every day, Y/n had dedicated hours to perfecting her skills, learning everything from racing lines to braking techniques. Max was relentless, but she loved every second of it. The best part? Lando had no clue.

Lando sat in his usual seat, all confidence, fingers flexing over the wheel. Y/n took her place beside him, cool and composed.

“Ready to lose, love?” he teased.

She simply smiled. “We’ll see.”

The lights went out, and the race began.

Within the first lap, Lando was concerned. By the second lap, he was nervous. And by the third? He was absolutely terrified.

Y/n was fast—not just “surprisingly good” fast, but “how the hell did you get this fast?” fast. She nailed every corner, executed flawless overtakes, and blocked him with zero hesitation.

Lando, gripping the wheel in disbelief, finally shouted, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”

Y/n grinned. “Guess I do get it after all.”

Max, watching the whole thing from Y/n’s phone on FaceTime, burst out laughing. “Lando, mate, you’re getting cooked!”

Lando’s eyes widened. “MAX?! YOU TRAINED WITH MAX?!”

“Oops,” Y/n said playfully. “Forgot to mention that part.”

Despite his best efforts, Lando couldn’t recover. Y/n crossed the finish line first, throwing her hands up in victory.

“YES! YOU OWE ME FIVE DATES!” she cheered.

Lando sat back in defeat, running a hand down his face. “This is the most betrayed I’ve ever felt.”

Y/n leaned in, pecking his cheek. “You’ll live. Now, start planning date number one.”

And just like that, the simulator had finally lost its grip on Lando Norris.

[tender-rosiey]

What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭

little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader

you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.

but it isn’t.

throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.

his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.

they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.

satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.

for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.

he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.

so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.

a shameful failed trial at that.

in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!

so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.

…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.

and come home you did and to all this mess.

swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.

then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.

satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.

so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“

you simply quirk an eyebrow.

and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”

“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”

your husband gasps, “how!?”

“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”

so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.

like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.

that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”

satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”

“bad word!”

“sorry!”

however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”

hit the panic button.

“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”

the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”

“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.

your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.

ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.

“hello?”

“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”

“what?!”

and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.

you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”

“yes ma’am!”

he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.

your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.

and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.

he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”

he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”

“I was gone for 3 minutes.”

“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”

he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.

anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.

when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.

now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.

he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.

satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.

he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.

opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.

if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.

he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.

so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.

the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.

that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.

he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”

he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.

she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.

satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.

your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.

your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”

almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.

satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”

a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”

satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”

s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.

so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”

your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.

then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:

“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”

your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”

satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”

s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.

looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.

he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?

he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.

with no blanket.

no pillow.

not even his favorite cushion.

but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[shouyuus]

could i request car mechanic!vi and fem!reader hcs and little moments of their daily life now that they’re officially dating? 🤭🤭 you write vi so wellll nghghhh 😫

sfw fluffy hcs for car mechanic!vi au bulletpoints bc im in that mood today

breakfast is always a long, drawn out thing -- almost ritualistic, bc "breakfast is the most important meal of the day, sweets! c'mon, you oughtta know that." and you take turns making it, either for each other or for whoever else is in the house that day (sometimes vander, sometimes silco will drop by for coffee, sometimes powder and ekko will stay the night, in which case ekko almost always makes breakfast, bc powder's very particular about her pancakes)

you can't rmbr the last time you sat in a chair proper bc vi's always pulling you into her lap (except at the dinner table, where she tries to show a TAD more decorum, esp if you're having dinner at your place instead of hers, but even then, she'd pull her chair close to yours, just so she can press her leg against yours or reach out to put a palm on your thigh)

on the days that you're not together, you definitely text vi a bit more -- she's got her hands full of repairs, and your biggest worry on the daily is what you wanna make for dinner that day, and if you need to drop by the grocery store before you head over to vi's

the first time you try to teach vi how to use chopsticks, you end up just plopped in her lap, feeding her off your plate bc she claims that "it's easier this way" and that she can "watch your technique better from up close" although it's so stupidly obvious that she's not looking at your hands bc she can't keep her eyes off your lips and how you can't stop giggling when you twist around to feed her

on the lazy summer nights when all the work has been done and all the stuff that can still be done can wait till tomorrow, vi takes you up the hill behind the city, to her favorite little outlook, tucked into the side of a backroad that no one except the true locals know about -- from there, you can see the entire city spread out beneath you, sprawling net, cast in light and shattered stars. "i used to hate this place... just a little, cause i thought i'd never get out of it," she tells you. "and now?" you ask. "now... i kinda love it... it's my home and... well, it gave me you, didn't it?"

vi thanks the heavens that you only live a few streets over, and that it takes her about 5 minutes on her bike to get between your houses (even though, yeah, you do technically live on the rich side of town, just across the train tracks), bc sometimes, 5 minutes is just about as long as she can wait before she starts to feel fidgety about the thought of seeing you again

the nights she spends at yours are always fun -- your bed's more than big enough for the pair of you to sprawl out on; you'd flick through channels on tv till something catches your eye, or carry as many snacks as either of you can up and post up for a movie marathon. it'd always end up with one of you lying against the other, your body curled between her legs or the other way around

sometimes she falls asleep against you, and you'd let the entire movie play before trying to slip out from behind her to turn off the lights. she always wakes up when you move, and she always grumbles and tries to pull you back; you always laugh and promise her that you'll be right back, to which she'd always pout but it morphs into a smile as she watches you patter around the room in a big t-shirt, turning off the lights and clearing the snacks off the bed before climbing back into her arms

she always keeps her hand tucked around your hip whenever the two of you go out anywhere, or she's got her hand pushed into the back pocket of your jeans or shorts or whatever the hell else; she claims its just bc she wants you close; you both know that it's also bc she wants zero questions as to who you belong to when you're walking down the street

when her hair gets long in the back, she lets you braid it and in it up with cute lil clips bc she likes the way it makes you smile

she almost loses it a little when she wakes up one day at yours and finds that you've put out an extra cup for her, and bought her a new toothbrush to use; it's then that she realizes she's already left like a quarter of her wardrobe here and that your parents no longer even look up when she comes downstairs in the morning, bedhead and all, to greet them, and that they've somehow always already made coffee for her, just the way she likes

"hey prett girl, can i ask you something?" "yeah, sure." "what... do you think about moving in together?" "hm? oh --" "not like right this moment or anything but --" "i'd love to. i mean, it does get a little complicated splitting time between my place and yours." "oh... that was -- i thought you'd be a bit more..." vi swallows, trailing off. you cock your head and fix her with a look, "a bit more what? hesitant? i mean... we're basically together all the time now anyway. it'd just make things easier, right? and --" a blush flushes into your cheeks as you look away, clearing your throat, "it'd -- it'd be nice not to have to be so q-quiet, sometimes."

vi nearly blacks out at your words; and yeah, so what if she starts looking at places that exact afternoon?

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🎃nightmare suit groovies~🎃

***Spoilers below the cut!! Please note: The R cards (Azul, Epel, Vil, Malleus) do not have new illustrations.***

OH MY GOD STOOOOP 😭 NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS CHARACTER CAMEOS IN THE GROOVIES??? ?? ?????? ??!???!? ?? ??? YOU MIGHT AS GFWELL WALK RIGHT UP TO ME AND IRiP MY FRIGIGN HEART OT RIGHT NOW

wWAHASL,ADFJHHDUPGFFI42T69O38QGPEGBIP;DGN;GDN;J J WORD SQUASHED U P IN THE AMYOR'S LITTLE CAR.. . . ....... . . . ... . . .. . ...... . . . OTL With the hair pushed back like that, teeth out, and eyes lidded, Jade almost looks like Floyd here. I THPOGU TI WOULDN'T BE sURIRPISED BY HIS SMIELS ANYMORE BUT I GUESS SI AWAS WRONG... This smile's very different than his unhinged/suspicious/evil ones and his pure ones, it's charming but more on the relaxed side. I also noticed the teeth are wider than usual (again, very Floyd-like), Jade's are narrower/smaller.

I like Trey's Groovy a ton! A lot more than I thought I would, actually. The blueish lighting and him looming over Sally's pot reminds me of his Club Wear card. ahdbasdlai There's also a slight sheen to his eyes, so Trey comes off like he's fascinated by her cooking and wants to learn more about Sally's techniques. He looks slightly shady too though, like some drug dealer inspecting the goods...

FHLBOQYW8QYFAFWI LRIDDLE'S RIDING IN THE CURSED CHILDREN'S BATHTUB... It's a little terrifying how hyperdetailed Lock, Shock, and Barrel's faces are and how they're all staring right at the camera. Riddle seems so calm, glancing at you over his shoulder with a little smirk. I usually don't use this adjective for him, but it makes Riddle feel cool! And since the image is shot from a slight worm's eye view angle, it gives him the illusion of being taller than he actually is--

Go figure, you slap the mad scientist character with the mad scientist of Halloween Town. Perfect pairing, honestly. I get very similar vibes between Idia and Dr. Finkelstein as I did with Trey and Sally; Idia is showing a real interest in the good (?) doctor's work and they appear to be deep in a discussion about it. The way Idia is bending over the table adgvkadsdval it kinda gives his body a more... triangular shape... that I just KNOW bro doesn't actually have. His face here seems more elegant than usual, almost Vil-like.

Thanks for the uncalled for viewing of the underside of your boot, Sebek 💀asjldboaysvyfevfeq I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS, he's trying so hard to come off as intimidating but I cannot see him as "the boss", even if he is posed like one. Give that jack 'o lantern some credit though, it sure is doing a fine job of supporting Sebek's big ol' beefy arm. Jack Skellington in the back is also sending me... Is he supposed to be intimidating??? That positioning just makes me think of someone leaning against a doorframe and trying to flirt by calling you their babygirl. GHBLIABFYIABFIAF ANYWAY I DON'T THINK THIS GROOVY WAS FOR ME

... wHAT THEFUCK. That was NOT what I expected of Jamil's Groovy. First was the weird pumpkin stroking, now bro's dancing with skeletons?????? IS THIS JUST WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'REEMOTIONALLY REPREssED YOUR ENTIRE LIFE... YOU POP OFF AND DO THE MOST OUT OF PocKET THINGS FOR FUNSIES?????? Jamil looks so smug as he's doing it too, it feels like he's shittalking you like a Mean Girl while he's busting a sick dance move. (Cameo: his toof) Jack in the background also looks the most sinister of all the SSRs. That combination of laughter and showing off his teeth... Unsettling.

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waht the hell. What HTBbr heLL. WHAT THE ACUTLA EHLLMIS THIIISISISISISSJISISISSSZ>/>?????w?f>fwlwkwfkfwjfwjkqljirtfyqnNOEGWOQG.,P57KIRJEI0RW08J:????>f>>fw>f>fw<wf<q>:q?q>v?v?v?v??gogibopobfuiibadh wnethuhw

WHYT THEUFKC FDUCC DOES THIS SLAP SO HARFZD OTL

ADSHJFIAGVTFVUOQEFVUBKQDWLGYQERGYOQF evyEROYNTHING AB OITU T THIS IS JSUT.... AKJBFLIUHADFIADFLF RIGHT UP MY lallEY... The extreme bird's eye view angle????? Jack with his arms crossed and that skeletal smirk??? Zero's little duck beak-shaped mouth?? The eerie green glow emanating from the fountain water below them? NLBVHDSKIUEGFABOGVSAEFYIPodp D nad HE WHOS HALL NOT BE NAMED V,NJ DBIOADFVIYOADFOTVFE8AYPFIEGWOBPFQEBOVGWIPEGBSNMVPOADVBN;DDBK;RWHOUGWBIQEPGNJQEG TH wE WHAYT THE FUCKCING ANGLR FRAMES HIS TITS AND MAKES HIS LEGS LOOKN EXTRA LONG, THE GRIBGKDJULBADFLBAFD CAPE WSWISHinG EVEYRWHERE, THe LIGHTONIGF FON HIS AHDNNEOMS E DAFACE, THE FUIDFSLBDFBKHAEFLBHQEFALBFEAL FA HADN TTHE FEGRIIGGING HAND HE'S OVFFERINGF TO YOU7? ? ???????? ? ?b?@??gb ? ? ? ? ? ?b>b>KNBNRIOBIGEBOYVDOGY8EANOapnjbgywt80pboqegwp,m iS THIS FUCKING BITCH ASKING FOR OUR HAND??? ? ?? ?? ?DOOahaaHAHhhghghghhghhgHHHHHhhhHHHHARRHRHGHGHGHGHHHHGHGHGHGHHHHHH HH H HHHH H H H H H I WANNNA bE SANDED TO BE PUT ouT OF MY MiSERY, I'M TAKING SO JCMUCH PSYCHICHDAMAG E I CAN'T TAKE IT I';N M GOINC CGATRAZXY. .. . . .BVL;,DFIPTOTO OT LTLTKT FLFL BHIVUASFOVUAFSA

gGUSY I THINK TI',M GDON E FOR, IT'S LEoVER FOR ME I SPENT SO LONG DENYRINH IT I DIDN'T WANNA ADMITR IT FOR MY OWN PRIDE BUT I'M DONE fRO I'M A GONRER BYE IT'S JFDAUBIADGOVUAFODUTVEFTI7EFWOIAVD;LIVOYGPGWEFQOIGYEQPgkjd TIUFQETO3R1QEFOTFQEG.5OIMH903GW9UPBAfpjFOVHDN;./'[;,KP[K,[LN,,L>:c<<l:LBHIDABIOUFPAOYGVEQBFPGWBPGHLGWBPQEFPGIAE whnEN YOU YSEE ME DNEXT I'M OGNNA BE LAid OUT IN A PIUMPKING PATCH DECATINGF CUZ THSI GROOVFY KILELD ME

[another-lemon-tree]

How they act in the beginning of the relationship

pairing : non idol/txt x reader

genre : fluff, humour

warning : none

notes : i am sorry it took me so long to post this one, but I had exams. Anyway I hope you'll like it! Feel free to share your thoughts

(The next part is already written, so stay tuned on my Masterlist)

Yeonjun :

A TEASE

he just wants to see you blush because he finds you beautiful and cute when you're all red because of him

he will do anything just to make you blush

EVERYTHING

he comes up behind you and runs his finger down your back

he will watch your reaction closely

"Princess, you are blushing"

after becoming his partner you keep going out with him every weekend just like before

it remains a playful encounter even though Yeonjun is more flirty and clingy than before

the time he gets the most flirty is when you're at your dance class

he catches your eyes in the mirror and sends you a cheeky wink

he guides you through the teacher’s movements by placing his hands on you

when you dance with the group in front of the class during training he won’t look at anyone else but you

he comes up behind you to whisper compliments in your ear right after you finish

Soobin :

SHY SHY SHY

like Sana said in the song Cheer Up

to be honest at first he didn’t believe he was really dating you

every time you're out with other people and you refer to him as your boyfriend while he's there he blushes

cutie patootie who doesn’t even know how to ask to hold your hand

"Soobin, stop bumping your hand into mine. If you want to hold it, just do it."

he is totally flustered and embarrassed you caught on that fast

but he takes your hand in his and looks away with red cheeks

by the way he always wants to play video games with you

and he wants you in his team at all costs

and you have to be on his team because if he loses against you he will sulk

he is such a baby but when he wants to be he can be bold as hell

so be aware or he will definitely fluster you

like when you are on a video call together

he will push his hair back and watch your reaction closely

"You like it when I push my hair like this, uh?"

"Ow Angel... are you blushing?"

yeah a little devil wrapped in a bunny face

Beomgyu :

he was all shy and nervous before he confessed his feelings

and now he is a loud demon with zero shame

keeps trying ridiculous pet names just to find the one that makes you react the most

"How is my Nugget doing?"

"Beomgyu stop it... ugh..."

while everyone was laughing, Kai decided to call you ‘Nugget’ as a joke

bad idea

everyone suddenly went silent watching as Beomgyu’s big smile turned into a death stare directed at Kai

oh yeah he is jealous as hell

but he will never admit it

one day while you were studying he just wouldn’t stop trying to distract you

so you leaned in close to his face

"Babe, if you don't shut your mouth now, I'll shut it for you myself."

he was so taken aback that he immediately shut his mouth completely flustered

mister Beomgyu turned as red as a tomato

seeing how he reacted you decided to use that technique more often whenever you needed quiet time and he was around messing around

or maybe because you just liked watching him turn red over and over again

Taehyun :

he always accompanies you to your classes whenever he can

he even makes himself late to his own classes just to walk you as much as he can but he’ll never say a word about it

when it comes to dates he prefers a relaxed movie night at home rather than going out to a fancy restaurant

he just loves simplicity

he especially loves that he can act however he wants when it's just the two of you

and that he can express his love with physical affection freely and without restraint

his hand resting on your thigh

gently sliding his fingers down your back

his hand grazing yours

"Honey, can I braid your hair?"

yes that's his favorite thing to do

he loves touching, gently caressing, brushing, braiding, and tying your hair

and you always let him do it because you’re fond of the way he smiles afterward

big shiny boba doe eyes to finish you off

but never mention it in public or you will get a big side-eye from him

because he only acts so cute when you are alone together

he feels safe only around you

Huening Kai :

he is a total cutie pie for real

in the begining when he was flirting with you he acted all bold and tough

but now he is such a big baby

always waiting to be spoiled and acting all cute and clingy

so when you see each other he is literally stuck to you

"You smell so nice, Cutie"

he would say every time he can rest his head on your shoulder while hugging you from behind

one day he offers you a penguin plush keyring to match the one he has

it’s obvious he loves matching couple items

when you go out on a date during cold weather

obviously with matching outfit

"So cold… Give me your hand, I’ll warm it for you."

after saying that he will gently takes your hand and tucks it into his pocket keeping it close and warm

on every date he loves secretly taking pictures of you and setting them as his wallpaper

he also loves taking goofy selfies with you which he prints and sticks on his fridge

so he can see your face every time he misses you and can't be with you

[deliveryboys]

piccolo and goku's reunion at the beginning of dbz is so funny. Like. the last time they saw each other, they fought to the death, goku showed piccolo the first kindness he'd ever experienced in his life (healing him when he could've killed him and been done with it, even if that meant that kami died too), and then piccolo fucked off for five years. didn't do a damn thing after he'd went on and on about being king piccolo's reincarnation and taking over the world and whatever. and THEN.

the REUNION. and goku's first reaction is immediately "oh and what the fuck do YOU want" which is funny as hell considering he was apparently always telling gohan about how piccolo (jr) really wasn't all that bad:

but y'know. Gotta Be Cautious and all that. but immediately afterwards their back-and-forth is actually hilarious:

because they talk like i'd imagine normal rivals would instead of mortal fucking enemies. and goku's behavior makes sense because he's GOKU and because, again, he was already telling gohan allllll about how he didn't think piccolo was all bad anymore, but piccolo? mr. "cracking a smile as he tells goku how nauseous the thought of teaming up with him is"???? he has ZERO excuses. and then during the actual fight with raditz they start bitching at each other like they're longtime friends who someone dipped in divorce sauce which is HYSTERICAL to me:

"you always were a lazy one" LIKE WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUTTTTTT if you go over the entire chain of events from goku starting his revenge quest against piccolo daimao to goku and piccolo jr facing off against each other at the world tournament there is nothing in goku's actions that imply laziness. quite the opposite, actually!!! the ONLY thing goku did that piccolo could maybe consider lazy would be. not tracking piccolo down and killing him (read: leaving a loose end alone instead of tying it up). that's It. where is he getting the "lazy" from. where is he getting "you always were..." from. They're not FRIENDS.

and then of course. The Plan.

piccolo: haha yeah i made this technique to kill you

goku: but it's helping me instead!!! love that!!! hahaha!!!

piccolo: yeah haha it really is funny isn't it

raditz: Can These Two Crazy Motherfuckers Stop Giggling With Each Other And Come Fight Me Already

and finally. This.

piccolo: HELL YEAH I GET TO KILL GOKU ALONGSIDE HIS FUCKASS BROTHER WIN-WIN

also piccolo: (...and then he'll get brought back with the dragon balls so it'll all be fine. Just so i can fight him for real of course)

the whole thing is just so funny. like i said, goku's demeanor is understandable because he's goku but piccolo???? goku gave him one senzu bean and he went from "KILL KILL MURDER KILL" to "ahhhh yeah son goku. that guy who i'm totally going to kill one of these days. really looking forward to that haha >:)". and then immediately after that he gets smacked upside the head with gohan

[sixosix]

and his voice is a familiar sound | scaramouche

forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting, humor, kissing and tension. suggestive implications and suggestive humor, a bit of scara’s mommy issues, wc 5k

ft. a down bad jealous bf scaramouche, bffs heizou and kazuha, and aether bc aether always has to be there

“If I ask you to come with us for a vacation, would you say yes?”

Your bedroom was already too cramped for one person, with what you could afford with your money after quitting your part-time job. It made it incredibly difficult for all parties involved when you invited someone over, especially when that person had no concept of personal space. You barely looked up from the pages of your book, humming halfheartedly to whatever Heizou is saying. You heard vacation and instantly decided to not waste your time.

Heizou must have sensed these thoughts, too, because he forces himself into your field of view by nearly climbing over your lap. “Hey, look at me. Would you say yes?”

“Heizou!” you hissed, pushing him off before Heizou could wrinkle the pages of the book that’s definitely overdue for borrowing time. You started to think about taking another part-time job if your friends kept inviting themselves over and invading your personal space.

Heizou looked at you, his face doing a complicated combination of a frown and a smug grin. “Come on. You never join us on trips…”

“For good reason,” you said, gesturing to the lapful of Heizou you are currently getting bombarded with.

“You’re so mean,” Heizou laughed, thankfully getting off your lap. He refused to let go of you, however, immediately wrapping an arm over your shoulder and pressing up against your side. This must be one of his techniques to make the people he was questioning feel restricted. It was working. “How will you get yourself to settle for a nice, young man with that attitude? What are you even reading?”

“I grabbed whatever book had a pleasing cover so I can tune your nonsense out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“What?” Heizou clapped the book shut and turned to you with the eyes of a reprimanding mother. “I swear I’m being serious. Can’t you consider it for even a minute? You’re breaking my heart. Plus, Kazuha’s the one who’s inviting us out.”

Hmm. What a compelling argument. Heizou knew that no one could ever say no to Kazuha. You wouldn’t really care if your absence would break Heizou’s heart, but Kazuha’s disappointed eyes were enough to put a god to their knees.

You zeroed in on Heizou’s wording. “Who’s ‘us’?”

Heizou started listing each with a raise of a finger. “Just Kazuha and Aether—and a friend we met recently. Kazuha invited him.”

You frowned. You didn’t know Aether visited again. “How the hell did Aether get invited?” Then, upon careful reflection: “And who’s the new friend?”

“If he was around, why not, right?” Heizou laughed, carefully setting the overdue book aside from your view. “The new friend’s Scaramouche. Have you met him before?”

What a strange name. Kazuha always managed to befriend people from all over, like a child bringing home turtles and a new species of bugs. You made a note to look him up. “Never heard of him.”

He hummed. “Said he came from Sumeru but he looked pretty Inazuman to me. Funny guy. He’s like a disgruntled baby brother.”

“And you only met him, what, recently? Why is he invited to our group already?” you asked, like the territorial person you are. How come it seemed like you were the last to know about this guy?

Aether was alright. Aether came back every few months to check up on everyone and got roped into all kinds of things with your friends, so you knew him well enough already. You liked his long braid. Heizou and Kazuha had been your friends for as long as you could remember being a college student.

Heizou grinned, patting your head. “Scaramouche’s nice, I promise. You wouldn’t even notice he’s there.”

At your dubious stare, Heizou amended, “C’mon, do you think I’m the type to befriend an asshole?”

Yes, but Heizou wasn’t the type to befriend a major asshole whose opinions he vehemently disagreed with, and he thought belonged better in jail, so you had to think about it for a bit. At the very least, this new guy didn’t seem like a criminal.

Your friends loved traveling, with Kazuha mostly being the culprit, but you liked staying inside most of the time. They never forced you to go with them, so why was Heizou being suspiciously persistent today?

“I think he’s your type,” Heizou finally said, caving in.

“You’re trying to hook me up with him?”

“Not exactly… but you two would seem cute.” He went silent for a thoughtful moment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed if you slept together.”

You made a face.

Heizou laughed brightly. “Alright, alright. You can go back to being the good poster student you are if you promise to think about it. Seriously. Kazuha’s moving to Liyue soon—he’s probably inviting us out because of that.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, reaching around for your book.

You would. What Heizou said about Kazuha made you remember that there are only a few weeks left until this is all over—then, after that, you all might go your separate ways. That thought floated around your mind for a little while as Heizou made himself comfortable on your bed, sighing before he dozed off.

You sighed, shuffling to give him space. “If this is your way of trying to make me get laid, try to at least be subtle and not weird me out before I even meet the guy.”

You stalked Kazuha’s Insta to search up this Scaramouche guy and nearly dropped your phone.

scaramouche11206. It was empty, entirely useless for your research. Scaramouche’s profile was a public account, had zero posts, and had four people he was following. It was Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, and a Vahumana Darshan update page.

You checked the tagged posts, and your jaw dropped to the ground.

Scaramouche was Kunikuzushi.

Heizou was taking a group selfie in the image, his tongue stuck out and winking while the camera showed two other men. On the left was Kazuha, with his ever-polite smile, then on the other, with the all-black getup was what the tags said was scaramouche11206.

It was a little difficult to tell why you were enamoured with the masked face with a short hime cut for a moment, but the piercing stare to the camera couldn’t be mistaken. It was a minute of staring before it clicked. This was your Kunikuzushi.

You dialed Heizou before you could even think about it.

“What…? It’s five a.m.” He sounded like he just woke up, “What’s up?”

You swiped back to the image of Scaramouche, as if staring at it any longer would imprint each pixel to your brain and bring him to life before you. “Hey, where’s Kazuha? Tell him I’m going.”

YEARS AGO.

Summer. The cicadas rang in your ears. They chirped about as you and Kunikuzushi trudged further into the forest. Sunlight peeked through the leaves, splashing Kunikuzushi’s beautiful face in a delicate glow.

Komorebi. Shadows scattered on the ground. Kunikuzushi lifted his head and turned to you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His voice was quiet, but even with the wind and the singing cicadas, you could hear him loud and clear. You could pick out his voice from a crowd. Your heart would know where to find him.

“I like looking at you,” you said. “I like you.”

He accepted the answer and continued walking. You beamed. Usually, Kunikuzushi would scoff and bat your words away, hiding his flustered face. But he didn’t.

Longing. Kunikuzushi turned back to you, stopping in his steps. You nearly bumped onto his back. “Do you like me enough to marry me?”

Was this a marriage proposal? You tried to think of you and Kunikuzushi, walking down aisles and reciting vows, and almost laughed. But then you tried to think of anyone else. You tried to think of a life without Kunikuzushi.

You thought of Kunikuzushi with anyone else and nearly threw up in his face. “You’re the only one for me.”

“Even if I hurt you?”

You frowned. “You would never hurt me, Kuni.”

Kunikuzushi’s expression crumpled. He could never hide anything from you; he was too expressive, eyes round and lip trembling. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You reached for his hands and forced him to look at you. “Kuni, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

He looked at the ground. “I said I didn’t want to live with her anymore. I didn’t really think Mom would make Aunt Nahida take me.”

The cicadas faded. The world fell into a hush. Your grip on his hands grew weak. “What?”

Kunikuzushi didn’t have a good relationship with his mother; you knew that. They were complicated. They always fought and he grew up to loathe her. You knew that. But you didn’t think…

You breathed in deeply. It was not Kunikuzushi’s fault. It was not Ei’s—and definitely not Nahida’s fault. It was just the way things go sometimes.

You forced a laugh, hoping to ease the troubled expression on his face. “Were you proposing because you’re moving away?”

Kunikuzushi blushed. “Shut up.”

Your face softened. He was always so cute when his face was as red as the red by his eyes.

Kunikuzushi inhaled sharply, taking your hands and looking at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “If I were going to ask you out, I would do it better than anyone who would try to marry you. So don’t entertain them.”

The trip’s plan was basically swimming when you could, staying at a hotel, driving out of the hotel to eat somewhere cheaper, and it would be stretched out for a few days. All in all, it didn’t sound too bad. With the type of people you were going out with, you were expecting a lot more drinking (Kazuha) and near-death-related activities (Aether). Although Heizou said it was Kazuha’s trip, he was apparently mistaken.

“It was originally for Scaramouche and his family, but his mother had last-minute changes and couldn’t go,” Kazuha explained as he helped you fit your luggage in the trunk of Aether’s car. “Scaramouche said it would be a waste and told me to invite my friends.”

“Woo-hoo, Scaramouche’s mom!” Heizou cheered.

“When we met her, it seemed like you hated her,” Kazuha mused as Heizou climbed inside the car. You were in the passenger seat while the two were shoved in the back. It seemed that even if you moved to a bigger apartment, you’d end up suffocated by Inazuman men either way.

“Hard not to after hearing Scara’s contempt for her. I’m an empath or something.” 

Aether adjusted the side mirrors. “Are we forgetting anything?”

“Where’s the Scaramouche guy?” you asked.

Heizou cast you a sly smile. “He’s already at the hotel, probably buying us other rooms.”

At least another thing about him hadn’t changed: he’s still disgustingly rich. You did some digging about the hotel, and it was the kind of place you could only dream of even looking at. You suddenly felt severely underdressed for a five-star hotel, with only sweatpants, a duffle bag, and a dream.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Kazuha said, and weirdly enough, you caught him looking at you curiously from the sideview mirror.

“No?” Heizou crossed his arms behind his head. “I doubt Scaramouche’s the type to willingly share a room with anyone.”

Aether scoffed, laughing under his breath. “Definitely not with us.”

You looked outside to hide a smile. It seemed that your Kunikuzushi hadn’t really changed drastically. This made you feel better about meeting him again.

“What made you change your mind?” Heizou asked.

You sighed and fell into step along with him as Kazuha and Aether went on ahead. There are families crowding the lobby, draped in gold that matched the fabric of the chandeliers overhead. Their jewelry was brighter than your future. Even the floor smelled expensive.

“Scaramouche did,” you mumbled.

Heizou’s brows lifted to his hairline. “Oh?”

“I mean—I don’t know, I’m not sure yet.” You were absolutely sure, but it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t recognize you at all, and Heizou would think you were just lying. It had been years.

Heizou tilted his head. “Well, whatever it is, I’m rooting for you. And if he fucks up, I know how to pack a punch.”

You didn’t doubt it. Heizou definitely knew how to pack a punch.

The hotel was so fancy and so meant for only rich kids that you and Heizou stood out like sore thumbs by looking around. Some woman your age walked past, her chin high and her steps light. You and Heizou looked at each other, then tried to mimic the same grace as you pair sashayed towards the desk.

“What are you idiots doing?” Aether asked as you reached them.

“Fitting in, unlike you,” Heizou said.

A new voice cut in. “Took you losers long enough.”

Scaramouche turned around after speaking to the clerk, his mouth in a thin line and his stare piercing. He also stood out next to the men in polo with his fingerless gloves and gold rings. He looked like he belonged better on an Inazuman fashion magazine cover than on a hotel vacation with a bunch of losers.

Heizou beamed. “Scara!”

“Hey,” Scaramouche said, then his eyes landed on you.

It was hard to tell if there was any reaction on his face because Heizou went up to him to ruffle his hair, stealing away his attention.

“Thanks for inviting us out. I didn’t know you were the type to want to snuggle with his friends.” Heizou waggled his eyebrows as Scaramouche pushed him away with a hand to Heizou’s face.

Scaramouche wrinkled his nose. “I am not sharing a room with any of you three. You snore, Kazuha snores louder, and I would wake up to Aether’s leg on my stomach the next morning.”

“That was one time,” Aether muttered, blushing.

“How many rooms are reserved?” Kazuha asked.

Scaramouche sighed, craning his neck. He had a really nice side profile. “Still two. The other one with a king and the other with two queens. I was supposed to have the first, but you didn’t tell me you were inviting someone else. This shithole’s booked full now.”

Your gaze fluttered away as they all turned to you. You bit your lip, frowning. Did Scaramouche not recognize you? He was acting like he didn’t. He was treating you like he would any stranger. That upset you, but for the entire car ride, you were also preparing for it. It probably would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself.

Heizou grinned, slinging an arm over Scaramouche’s shoulder. “I suppose you have no choice but to share a bed with us.”

“No.” Scaramouche picked up his luggage and started rolling away. “Heizou, Kazuha, Aether, you share the king.”

The three men turned to you instead, surprise visible in their expressions. It was exactly because Scaramouche decided to share a room with you, whom he never acknowledged since you arrived.

You wanted to protest. If Scaramouche didn’t recognize you and opted for a choice that didn’t involve sharing a room with anyone, you’d rather sleep on the floor in Kazuha and the others’ room. But Scaramouche was already stepping inside the elevator and was holding the door for you.

You held your gaze to the floor the entire time as Scaramouche pointed at a room and told the three they would sleep there. Scaramouche flashed the card against the door of your room, then stepped inside.

“This one’s ours,” Scaramouche said. You couldn’t detect any hint of emotion.

The room was bigger than the two rooms at your apartment. It had two beds, as Scaramouche said, and a TV across. The room was cold as fuck. You shuddered, and Scaramouche remained unbothered with his layers of clothes that probably cost more than you.

As Scaramouche set his luggage on the bed closest to the window, you gathered the courage to not make this trip any more awkward.

You breathed in deeply. “I’m Y/N—”

“I haven’t forgotten.” He arched an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Have you forgotten about me?”

“No, no, of course not,” you said. “I could never forget you, Kunikuzushi.”

You stiffened, thinking it was a mistake and there must’ve been a reason he was called by another name, but you took a look at him and got distracted. His face relaxed when you said his name.

I could never forget you. It was sickeningly true. You can never forget about Kunikuzushi. He was your first love. He was so cute with his wide eyes; and he was very clingy, too, which made him all the more endearing.

But looking at the present Kunikuzushi, with his intense stare and permanently bored expression, he was hot, and you started to think that maybe your type was just Kunikuzushi.

Horror settled in your stomach as Scaramouche flashed a wicked grin.

“Then you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me, would you?”

“He said what?” Heizou cackled, hitting the wall as he threw his head back, laughing.

Scaramouche meant it as sleeping in the same room, but he could have— no, should have worded it better. Scaramouche laid down on his bed right after and went on his phone as if he didn’t say anything at all. You blurted some half-baked excuse and left the room to cry about it in your friends’ room.

When Scaramouche said their room was assigned a king bed, you didn’t expect it to fit five people—and Scaramouche said he wanted it for himself? The bed was incredibly big, almost in a lonely way. You have never seen an Alaskan king bed before, but now, sitting on the edge of it, felt as if you could fit your entire apartment on it.

Kazuha was in between Heizou and Aether, their backs resting on the headboard. They were about to sleep, too, but as soon as you burst in, they settled into position and listened intently. Except Aether, kind of; he was texting his sister, who was demanding a room tour.

“I never thought he would be this bold. I mean, demanding to share a room the moment he laid his eyes on you? Wow,” Heizou said, looking terribly criminal with his expression.

“It is surprising,” Kazuha mused. “I’ve witnessed how women flock to his feet and how he bat them all off like he never saw them.”

An unpleasant feeling washed over, which was weird because why would you be upset? Of course they’d flock to him—with a face like that. He had the looks and the personality that would garner him a lot of masochistic fans if he were a character in a drama.

“Does that happen a lot?” The way you spat it out spelled exactly how upset you are.

“No need to get so jealous, now. After that display, I’m positive that he wants as much as you want him,” Heizou laughed, falling forward and resting his elbows on the mattress. He moved his chin to his palm. He looked like he was going to ask if you wanted to paint nails and curl hairs the next second.

Your face felt hot. What was this conversation? You’d much prefer painting nails than talking about this. “I don’t want him!”

Heizou arched an eyebrow. “No?”

Even Kazuha looked doubtful, which was enough of a blow.

“I’m just confused,” you insisted. “You know what happens when you’re in a room alone with an objectively attractive guy? You get confused.”

“I get it,” Aether said, setting his phone aside to share his insight. “This is your sexual awakening.”

“What? No!”

“It definitely is,” Heizou agreed. “Why else are you crying about this to us?”

There was a sense of impending doom at realizing that Heizou was brewing some horrible, horrible thoughts in that head of his. “To stop feeding into my madness!”

Heizou clicked his tongue. “How do you think he feels? His childhood best friend came back to his life looking like that—I’m surprised he hasn't eaten you right up yet.”

You didn’t know what was more horrifying: Heizou implying he thought you were hot, or him implying that he thought Scaramouche thought you were hot.

Your face must’ve looked like a constipated mix between flustered and horrified; Kazuha chimed in to tell Heizou, “You should be more careful with your words. I’ve never met anyone as possessive as Scaramouche.”

“It’s already a miracle he even remembers me. He wouldn’t get jealous. I doubt he actually wants me that way,” you sighed.

“Oh, but you want him that way?” Heizou asked.

You wanted to slap that expression off Heizou’s face. “Of course I do. He was so cute when we were little—I already liked him then. I didn’t think he’d grow up to be so…”

“Sexual awakening,” Aether said again.

“Ow,” Aether whined when you hit him square on the head.

Reluctantly, you returned to your room. Heizou, Kazuha, and Aether told you to get your shit together and face this not-sexual-awakening like a man. Kazuha didn’t say it, but you could feel that he was also thinking it. And if he ever said it out loud, you’d tell him to go fuck off to Liyue already.

Scaramouche was awake. The door clicked shut, and you faintly felt like those heroines locking themselves up in a room to hook up with someone who they didn’t think was the murderer on the front page right now.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

You tried not to let your surprise show, but Scaramouche was staring so intently that you would’ve failed miserably either way. “The other room.”

The longer you looked at him, the more you realized that Kunikuzushi felt like a fever dream. Being only a few feet away from the guy you used to be so fond of, now grown and had an air of haughtiness that would’ve been a turn-off had it been anyone else— it was doing things to you.

“Are you scared of me?”

You laughed and nearly choked on it when registering that Scaramouche was still looking. It wasn’t something like embarrassment. It was more like laughing unabashedly and then sensing that your hallway crush walked past. Maybe it was a bit of embarrassment.

“No. No, I’m not scared.” You moved to sit on your bed, eyes trained on the wall. “You didn’t tell me you were back.”

“You changed your number. You moved out.”

“Oh.” You did do that. Your apartment was very far from your home.

“And I figured you forgot about me or wanted to forget about me because of what I did to you.”

“Oh.” You wanted to say that he didn’t affect you that much. Life goes on; you meet new people and lose them every day, and all that. But Scaramouche was affecting you that much, especially when he’s only a few feet away from you, looking like he wanted you to pounce him.

Scaramouche grinned lopsidedly. “But I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

What the hell does that mean? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he figure it out? Were you that obvious with your thoughts about pouncing?

Scaramouche stood up from his bed, moving towards yours slowly. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

You tried to avoid getting too close by leaning back, but he kept drawing his face closer, bending towards you. You’re one last tilt away from him pinning you down on the bed.

“No,” you blurted before you could even think about it. It was a little difficult to think about anyone else when you were a breath away from kissing. “Why?”

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, electric indigo. “Do you still have a crush on me?”

“You’re asking too many questions.”

“We’re catching up. This is how it works, doesn’t it?”

No, it was definitely not how this worked. Your neck was starting to ache with this awkward angle, and he hadn’t even answered your question.

“Do you?” he repeated, hovering above you.

You gave up on the painful angle and laid flat on the bed, frowning up at him. You crossed your arms to achieve the stance of someone who will not back down easily. “How are you so sure I even had a crush on you?”

“You’re telling me I’m wrong?”

What was this? Some fucked up game of 21 questions, but Scaramouche was too high and mighty to follow the rules? You didn’t know what to say to that. You wisely decided to stay silent, glaring up at him.

You probably didn’t look intimidating at all. Scaramouche smiled, much less sharper. Almost fond as his eyes flicked down to somewhere below your nose. “Am I still the only one for you?”

Okay. You would back down easily if he kept looking at you like that.

“You didn’t hurt me, Kuni.” You sighed. “You never could.”

Scaramouche straightened, his face carefully blank. It was much harder to read him like this. You sat up, wanting to ask if it was the wrong thing to say. You couldn’t get the words out because he lunged for a kiss.

You might have gasped. You might have made some embarrassing noise while a laugh rumbled from the back of Scaramouche’s throat. But that was all thrown out the window the moment your eyes fluttered shut and you lost yourself in the sensation of his warm mouth on yours.

He pushed closer, and you were pulled back on the mattress, his arms on either side of your head. Your eyes flew open when Scaramouche nipped at your lip. As if suddenly remembering where and who you were, you forced his chest back and gaped.

“What?” He looked irritated you interrupted him.

“At least say it back!”

“You didn’t even say it,” Scaramouche said, one eyebrow raised.

“I like you, Kunikuzushi.”

Scaramouche turned red and then looked humbled that you saw it. “I still like you, too.”

You looked at him up and down. You asked, but you didn’t want to hear the answer. “And you didn’t have anyone while you were in Sumeru?”

“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed. “You think anyone there was worth my time? You think I’d settle for less than you?” He scowled. “How about you? Nevermind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I’d do it better than any of them.”

You laughed, tugging him close with your arms around his neck. If anyone were to come in, they would assume the worst. Then again, maybe Scaramouche had plans to indulge in the worst.

wake up! let’s eat breakfast at the restaurant we saw yesterday!

ask scaramouche. so he can pay for us

Despite the freedom and space of lying on separate queen beds, you and Scaramouche were huddled and pressed close. And despite books in your bag, you were occupied with huddling and pressing close against Scaramouche. You were lying on his chest while he had an arm resting on your stomach.

As soon as Heizou’s texts appeared on the top banner of your screen, you looked up, and Scaramouche looked like he was going to murder someone.

“It’s a joke, probably,” you said. “They don’t see you as a wallet.”

“It’s not a joke,” Scaramouche said. “I don’t really care about that. You and Heizou close?”

“He’s the one who introduced me to Kazuha and the others.” You sat up from the comfortable position and stretched.

“So you’re close.”

“Oh, very much so.” Then you laughed at Scaramouche’s thunderous expression. “Idiot. Why are you jealous? He’s not the one I’m sharing a room with and was making out with last night.”

Scaramouche’s gaze cut down to your neck. He looked extremely pleased.

You and Scaramouche took the elevator down, holding hands throughout. You felt a little giddy. What must this look like to everyone else? They’d all assume you were out with your boyfriend. As you reached your friends, Aether had just started the car. Kazuha slipped into the passenger seat, and Heizou waved at the both of you.

Then Heizou gasped. Aether turned to you and gasped as well.

“What happened to you? You look like you were mauled by a tiger,” Aether asked, scandalized.

“If the tiger had a short hime cut and a thick wallet, maybe,” Heizou mused. You flipped him off and climbed inside the car. Heizou laughed and sat beside you.

Aether frowned. “What kind of tiger would that be?”

You groaned, burying your face in your palms and wishing that lightning would strike you down. You needed coffee. Or a beer. Maybe if you bat your eyelashes and kissed him on the lips, Scaramouche would buy you bottles of wine.

As if summoned by your thoughts, a figure forced himself in between you and Heizou. Scaramouche worked fast. He glared at Heizou and tugged you away from him.

Heizou’s eyes went wide. “What’d I do?”

“Know your place, Shikanoin,” Scaramouche said. You just wanted to at least not be half-sitting on his lap, but he was proving a point and didn’t let you budge.

Kazuha smiled. “I warned you, Heizou.”

“Damn,” Heizou said. He looked exhausted. He was the one who suggested you and Scaramouche hook up in the first place—did he not expect his intuition to be right this time? “Didn’t take you for the clingy type. Two more days of this?”

“This is not some fling,” Scaramouche hissed. “You think I don’t take this seriously?”

You smiled as your heart fluttered. Scaramouche could be so unintentionally sweet sometimes, not that you’d tell it to his face, because he would grumble and hide his face. You rather liked his face. It was pretty, and you knew that if you tugged his hood down, you’d see a bruise on his neck as well.

“Didn’t take him for a romantic as well,” Kazuha said, thoroughly entertained.

“Wait, are you actually a thing now?” Aether made a face. “What the hell happened in that room?”

Scaramouche smirked. “You sure you wanna know?”

a/n it was already so hard for me to not turn it into a heizou fic dude. That entire first part was so unnecessary i was just hopelessly infatuated. BUT ANYWAY!!1 thank you so much for reading i hope u liked it <3 if u do, leave a comment or a reblog so i can see your thoughts :DD

also, another note: on the day i wrote this fic the insta acc of scara didnt exist. so if it does by the time youve read this fic, its pure coincidence and i have nothing to do w it. or maybe i did, because i came up w the name HAHA

[silvvermoon]

lover, not a liar ♡

Aki, your best friend, has agreed to teach you how to suck cock. But you need more than that.

pairing: aki hayakaya x reader

wc: 3.7k

tags: friends to lovers, slightly tipsy sex, dom!Aki, rough sex, blowjobs, pet names (baby, princess), calling u good girl, praise, slight dacryphilia, creampie, fluffy ending ♡

“Aki,” you slur, mouth wet and feeling all too warm from the drinks you’d had earlier in the evening. “Are you gonna show it to me or what?” 

You’re sitting on your knees and staring up at your best friend’s erection straining through his grey sweatpants which is, well, pretty unexpected. And definitely not how you pictured spending your Friday night. Aki’s above you, palming himself softly while you wait eagerly for him to teach you how to suck cock. And seeing him like this makes you feel hot. 

It wasn’t something either of you had planned on or even touched on before. You’ve never even shared a kiss with Aki, not a proper one anyway. You’re friends, platonic friends, and that’s all. But tonight, during your usual pizza and movie catch up, the stress of the week finally caught up with you. The awkward silence from your latest 3-month-long fling has been sitting on your mind all night and you just wanted to toss those thoughts all away. Get drunk, complain to Aki, and get distracted by whatever Netflix has to offer. 

Well, that was supposed to be the plan.

Except you forgot how much you overshare once you get a few drinks in you. And Aki’s not exactly 100% sober, despite him holding his alcohol a lot better than you. You never even did get around to ordering that pizza because once you were feeling buzzed enough, all you could keep saying was “and before he started ghosting me, that asshole complained that my blowjobs were terrible. Too much tongue, not enough suction, fuck. Like come on, I wanted to make it good for him but he never told me what he wanted until after, when he just threw negative fucking feedback at me. It’s so humiliating, Aki. Look at my phone! He gave me a rating like I was his Uber driver. Who does that? Who?”

And Aki had, indeed, taken a look at your phone, winced, and then handed it back to you. “I think you dodged a bullet with this one,” he’d said, “and don’t listen to it. I’m sure that’s the last time anyone will suck his dick for him. Even if he offered to pay.”

You’d snorted, laughed so hard that you almost choked even though Aki was dead serious. “But what if he’s telling the truth? Maybe I am shit at giving blowjobs.”

Aki looked at you then, softly, maybe a little bit tipsy too. “It’s the enthusiasm that counts, knowing that you want this so much is what makes blowjobs feel good,” he’d said, and then “besides, I’m sure you’re not shit at them, I’ve seen the way you eat your ice-cream. That’s some real devotion, right there.”

You giggled again, “Sure, sloppy. With no real technique.” And that was that. Your laughter died into  easy silence and Aki was prepared to switch the show on Netflix, until your tipsy brain got the sudden idea of doing something incredibly dumb.

And later, you blame it on the alcohol, you blame it on the way Aki’s too easy to open up to, you blame it on the way his body is so welcoming and relaxed next to you. Hell, you even blame it on Netflix for having absolutely zero worthwhile anything available to distract you from Aki and blowjobs and thinking of his dick while he’s literally right fucking there. You blame it on Aki’s face, which is clearly a weapon in both seduction and destruction on its own.

Nope, not your fault at all. Never.

And, you know all too well that being tipsy makes you act on things you would otherwise keep locked away in the back of your mind. You wouldn’t have felt this way if you hadn’t felt Aki’s own hot gaze on you when he thought you weren’t looking.

So, here you went.

“Hey, Aki, maybe I could… try it on you?” you smiled, face feeling hot from more than just the alcohol. “Can you teach me how to give a better blowjob? With guidance, you know? I mean, if it’s too weird you can say no.”

Yep. You said it. No take backs now.

“You want me to-” Aki paused, swallowing. And then he looked at you, maybe for a second too long where it felt like he was calculating too many things for one night to have. His cheeks were only a little bit red when he turned the TV off and said “sure, I’ll do my best.”

~

And that’s why you’re here. With Aki. Waiting desperately for him to give you permission to pull down his briefs. It should feel weird, awkward, maybe at least a little bit wrong, but it doesn’t. It’s just you and Aki and the growing heat between your thighs.

“Firstly, you’ve gotta open your mouth,” Aki says, and he reaches out with one hand to cup your jaw, thumbing at your lip. He hasn’t kissed you or anything, simply easing you down to the floor with a pillow to prop yourself up on. You open your lips and let Aki press his thumb in against your tongue, taking in the softness of his skin.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “That’s a good girl.”

You nod, humming. Aki’s voice makes your stomach tighten, the way he calls you a good girl. His fingers feel nice in your mouth, as do the ones threading through your hair, massaging your scalp while you lazily suck. 

“Teach me?” you ask, mouth still full of his fingers.

Aki grips your hair just a tad bit tighter. “That’s what I’m doing, but I need you to be patient for me,” he says, and then “we’re taking it slowly, making sure you know where to touch,” he takes your hand, pressing it to his thigh, “and where to tease,” he says softly, bring your other hand to rest against his erection. You can feel him, so thick and hard beneath the tight fabric. With Aki’s encouragement, you give him a soft rub, just ghosting your fingers over the outline of his bulge, keeping your touch light and without expectation.

“Just like that,” Aki murmurs, and when you glance up at him you can see the blush on his cheeks, eyes heavy. He’s turned on, and there’s something incredibly hot knowing that it’s you doing this to him. Aki’s your friend, yes, but you’d be lying if you said that you’d never been attracted to him.

And you’d be an even bigger liar if you said that asking this of him tonight was purely so you could ‘learn’. 

Aki reaches to pull his briefs down, swatting your hands away as you try to do it for him too hastily. “Slow down, what did I say about being patient?” he says. But your pouting turns to arousal as soon as his cock is out, all for you. Aki’s hard as fuck, his cock incredibly thick and girthy with a nice soft curve that you know would hit all the right places inside you. It’s gorgeous, you think, no, you know. You haven’t seen it before but fuck, you’ve definitely thought about it. At night, when you’re horny and tired and too lazy to look at porn, you’ve wondered what Aki’s cock would look like, feel like in your hands, your mouth, your pussy.

And from what he’s showing you, Aki doesn’t disappoint. His girthy cock is the most perfect shade of flushed pink that you’ve ever seen.

“Open a bit wider for me, that’s right,” Aki whispers, cock twitching when you say an over exaggerated ‘ahhh’ and stick your tongue out. His hips move forward gently, his cockhead resting against your tongue, dribbling small amounts of sticky precum on to your tastebuds. He tastes good; only slightly musky with a hint of salt. Way better than anyone else you’ve had in your mouth. 

“Aki, gim’ mor-“ you try to say around the cock in your mouth, choking off when Aki thrusts in unexpectedly. You automatically open your mouth wider, adjusting to the sudden fullness that’s about to hit the back of your throat. Aki doesn’t even move, just stays like that while your eyes tear up and you try to just breathe.

“I’m impressed,” he marvels, thumb brushing against your lower lip that’s stretched around him. “Just wanted to test your reflexes, pretty girl. Didn’t expect you to take me in so well,” he smiles, starting to rock his hips back and forth. 

You can’t do anything other than force yourself to relax, mind hazy as Aki’s thick shaft fills your mouth over and over again. You can feel the wetness beginning to grow between your own thighs, your cunt slick with arousal just from having Aki praise you for sucking his cock. It’s embarrassing. But it doesn’t stop you from desperately reaching down to rub at your clothed pussy while you continue to give him head. You need to rub yourself just to relieve some of the pressure that’s building in your aching little cunt.

Aki only pauses for half a second when he sees you do this, watches you hurriedly shove your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties to rub at your throbbing clit, and you know he must like what he sees because you feel his cock twitch hard against your tongue.

“Turned on?” he breathes out, which you both know is obvious from the way you’re getting yourself off so frantically. The sound of your slick folds squelching as you finger yourself is even louder than the gasps Aki lets out when he nudges his cockhead against the back of your throat. You choke every time he does that, eyes watering from the lack of air and from feeling so used , but your hand never stops rubbing your clit. No, you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. The alcohol in your system isn’t even what’s making you so forward, it’s the fact that you’re just so fucking riled up from having Aki in your mouth, fucking your throat. 

Aki’s the reason why your panties are stained with a thick layer of your cream. Aki’s the reason why your pussy is desperately clenching around your fingers, pulling them further into your wet heat. Aki’s the reason why you’ve become such a shameful slut who can’t stop touching herself the moment she gets a taste of her best friend's dick.

“See, baby?” he whispers, pumping his cock deeper into your mouth, “you already know how to give a good blowjob, look at you, showing me just how horny you get from letting me use your mouth.” Aki murmurs all this while stroking your hair, his fingers in your scalp so he can hold your head still while he rocks into you.

It’s all so much, your own fingers in your cunt and Aki’s cock in your mouth. All of it feels so good and you know Aki’s meant to be teaching you how to suck properly, how to use your tongue, but now you just desperately want to feel his cock inside your pussy. You mewl around his length, stuffed full and barely able to breathe. All you know is you want him to pound you right now. Nothing else matters. 

“Keep playing with your pretty little pussy for me, okay baby? The view I get from here shows me just how much you want this.” 

And fuck, those words do something to you, because the knot in your stomach grows and you desperately add another finger into your cunt, twisting and rubbing against your sweet spot.

It’s not enough.

You pull back off Aki’s cock for a gasp of air. “Aki-” you breathe, spit soaked lips sore as you speak, “m’ fingers aren’t enough, need more, need you,” you sob. “I wanted to make you cum with my mouth but, I need- just, I need your cock-” you choke off. And it’s embarrassing how needy you are in this moment, but you don’t feel any of it when you’re this aroused. 

Aki grips your chin, soft but firm. “You need me to fuck this princess cunt of yours to make you happy? You want it that bad that you can’t hold out any longer?” you nod in response, still rubbing softly at your own swollen clit. Aki bites his lip, stroking your jaw, and says “Well, I guess you deserve it, since you’ve been such a good girl for me, taking my cock as deep as you can down that pretty throat.”

“Fuck, Aki, please yes that’s what I-.”

It all happens so quickly after that. You don’t get the chance to even say anything before Aki’s picking you up by the waist and urging you onto the couch, spreading your body out on the cushions while he looms above you. Your mouth is still wet with his precum, but Aki leans down to kiss you anyway. He presses his lips against yours for the first time, groaning softly into your mouth while he rocks his leaking cock against your bare thigh. It’s a stark difference to the control he had before when he was fucking your mouth, he’d been easy to talk no matter how deep you took him in, only letting out small gasps every now and then. But now? Aki’s moaning, soft little choked back noises just from kissing you. It’s hotter than it should be, and your only response is to wrap your arms around his back and pull him in for more.

Any other time you’d want to indulge Aki with more kisses, but now you just need him inside you. 

“Aki,” you murmur against his lips, “need you to stretch me out. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

“You’re still so impatient,” he says, strong hands parting your thighs and pulling your soaked panties down to your ankles. “And you’re this fucking wet from just taking me in your mouth?” he says, swiping a finger through your slick folds, brushing your swollen clit and making you shiver. Your pussy is fully exposed like this, skirt hiked up high above your stomach while Aki settles between your legs, his length pressed up against your soaked pussy. You’re both leaking, and you honestly can’t tell if it’s your own wetness or Aki’s precum that’s making the squelching sounds when his cockhead slaps against your fluttering entrance.

There’s only a fraction of hesitation, Aki looking down at you with heavy eyes, “are you sure?” he asks, and “oh my god Aki, fucking yes,” you tell him. You’re really fucking sure because if he doesn’t keep going, you’re going to explode.

And then he’s pressing in. No prep. You’re so wet that you don’t even need his tongue or fingers to ease the stretch from his cock. Aki’s kissing you while he slowly enters you, giving you time to adjust to the slight sting of the stretch. “You’re doing so well, such a good girl for me,” he whispers, moving down to kiss your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin there. “Knew you’d end up with more than just sucking my cock, you wanted this,” he finishes, bottoming out with his length fully stuffed inside your cunt. 

You gasp, whimpering into Aki’s shoulder while he nudges his cockhead against your sweet spot. “You knew? I didn’t- fuck, I didn’t plan it like this,” you choke out. The pleasure is hitting you harder now. This isn’t your fingers inside of you, this is Aki . And he’s pretty and strong and gorgeous and seemingly already knows how you like the shallow thrusts against your g-spot. “A-Aki,” you stutter, your body writhing against his while he fills you over and over again.

“You hoped for it though, didn’t you?” he murmurs, slow, shallow thrusts that stretch your tight walls around his length. The sensation is intoxicating for both of you, and your mind goes blank at the sound of his deep voice. Yes. He’s right. You wanted this, Aki fucking you, hidden behind some flimsy pretense of teaching you how to suck him off. He knows, you know, and now you can’t shy away from his lips against your own. You nod into him because there’s no point denying it now. He’s your best friend and he knows you.

Aki kisses you like he’s been waiting for years. And he has been waiting for years. It’s all tongue and teeth while he pounds your pussy hard and god you’re a mess. All you can get out is a gasping “I think I’m gonna cum, Aki, please, I need it rougher,” with your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head when he fucks you harder. You almost cry when the head of his cock bumps your cervix, it’s a mix of sharp pleasure and pain and you love it, your pussy letting out small squirts each time he rams into your cervix. Your hands curl against the fabric of the couch, trying to find some sense of stability while your body is getting pushed to the limit. You’re not even drunk from the alcohol anymore, just all love drunk from Aki’s perfect cock. 

You’re about to warn him, but Aki gets in before you, his voice raspy in your ear while he thrusts into you. “Yeah you’re close aren’t you, baby? I can feel your pretty little cunt clenching around me, so fucking tight for me even after everything I’ve given you.” And his words only make you tighten even more, your walls clinging to his shaft as you start to reach your peak. You cry out, moaning his name pathetically. All you feel is the warmth from Aki’s cock abusing your sweet spot over and over again, distantly, his voice saying “cum on my cock princess, yeah, that’s my good fucking girl,” and the sound of squelching while Aki fucks your gushing heat through the waves of pleasure. Even when you’re coming down, struggling to breathe, Aki keeps fucking you through the last of the contractions, making you twitch as your poor abused pussy gets overstimulated.

Your heart is racing and you’re entirely fucked out but Aki’s still hard, and more importantly, he’s still inside of you. He’s slowed down though, you’re aware of that much. You’re aware of how only the head of his cock is in your entrance and he’s littering kisses across your collarbone while he waits for you to come back to him.

“Was I too rough on you?” Aki speaks into your skin softly. He sounds almost apologetic, lazily thrusting into your heat while you hold onto his broad shoulders.

“No, s’ good, Aki. Felt so good,” you slur, breath hitching when Aki thrusts a little bit harder into you. “Want you to cum inside me, please Aki,” you pout with whatever sliver of energy you have left, and you’re well aware that he’s waiting for you to give him permission to keep going. As rough as he’s been, and as much as he’s pushed you tonight, you know that if you say you’re too tired, he’ll happily pull off of you and go finish himself off in the bathroom. You don’t want that though. Definitely not tonight.

“Yeah?” Aki nibbles at your throat, breath hot on your skin. “You want me to fill you up?” he asks, reaching down to swipe his thumb over your sensitive clit. He’s pumping into you steadily, and having his cock rubbing up against your g-spot while his fingers play with your small bundle of nerves is just too much. You can feel the heat building rapidly in your belly again and you almost want to sob. “I know, I know, but you’ve done so well, just one more for me,” Aki coos, kissing the wetness leaking out the corners of your eyes, and tells you “I really wanna stuff your princess cunt full of my cum, n’ I know you can take it for me, baby,” while he fucks you steady, urging you even closer than before.

“ Oh, fuck - yes, please, need it so bad,” you whimper, your second orgasm hitting you just as hard as the first. Aki’s words draw it out of you, your gushing pussy clenching around his cock while he groans and fucks into you harder, even rougher than before, pumping you full of thick cum. You love the soft moans he makes, but you love it more when he collapses on top of you, pressing his lips into yours and lazily kissing you while his cock slowly softens inside you. You feel full. And when Aki finally pulls out, still trailing kisses and little bites down your throat, you wince at the feeling of his seed leaking from your puffy entrance. 

You’re an absolute mess, and so is the couch.

“C’mere,” Aki says, tugging you up into a sitting position before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. You’re still dazed, and watching Aki move around the room to grab you a towel and some tissues is all too much for you. When he finally sits back down, he’s spreading your legs to wipe away  the sticky mess leaking from between your thighs. “I’ve wanted to do that for years, you know,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry, I kinda went all out tonight after you asked me to, you know- I didn’t know if I’d get the chance-”

You stop him, reaching out to hold his forearm and keep him steady for the first time tonight. You know you need to say it. “I’ve wanted this too, Aki. I mean, that is why I asked if I could blow you,” you laugh. You want him to know the truth, and you want to lighten the tension he’s holding over himself. Your chest clenches when he cracks a rare smile at you. You can't hold yourself back from tugging him into a tight hug, holding him so close that you can feel his heart beating against your own.

Aki’s so pretty. He’s always been so pretty. And now that you know what he tastes like, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop yourself from needing him. Wanting him. They’re the same thing in your world.

Aki sighs and leans in to your touch, pressing one last kiss to your lips. “Shower? I think we both need to clean up a bit, and I promise I won’t try to make you cum again once we’re in there.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you smile. You feel so warm, being held by Aki. Your body feels wrecked but god, it was so worth it.

[grogwrites]

Drag - O.P. 81

Chapter 1: Opportunity of a Lifetime

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Summary: Street Racer vs F1 Driver, a connection that’s undeniable, and the opportunity of a lifetime.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Female OC

CW: swearing, and OC is lowkey an F1 hater at the beginning lmao also I’ve never raced before so there may be inaccuracies with the street racing in the beginning. I’m doing my best ✋

A/N: AHHHHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY Divider is by @saradika-graphics

Word Count: 2.4k

*DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

Josie didn’t remember how she got into racing. Racing just sort of happened to her. Her mom would blame “bad influences” from school, but she knew she was chasing something more—a feeling. A feeling that was unnamed, and undecided. Though, that could be anything considering she didn’t feel at all anymore.

But as she sat in the seat of some stranger’s duped up Monte Carlo, speeding down I-15, her heart swelled. She looked in her side mirror, watching her opponents disappear into the night. A laugh escaped her lips as she applied more pressure to the gas pedal, attempting to go even faster, and attempting to push the car to its limit. It wasn’t her car—none of them were. But she never crashed, never slid, never faltered…her technique was perfect. 

Nothing beat the thrill of racing—the high speeds, the late nights, the adrenaline of trying to not get caught. Street racing wasn’t legal by any means in the US, but perhaps that was what fueled her to continue doing it: the chase. 

In a swift movement, Josie stepped on the breaks, drifting the car around the apex of the corner she was approaching. As she entered the off-ramp of the interstate, she was quick to slow her pace again—not that it would’ve mattered too much. Vegas was quiet at this time of evening. Not an officer in sight, or another living soul besides the other racers. 

She came to a stop at a red light. In her rearview mirror, she watched as the others caught up to her. She rolled down the two front windows, leaning back in her seat as one car pulled up beside her. 

“There’s no way you beat us in that piece of shit.” 

Josie watched as the man carded a hand through his hair frustratedly. 

“I mean, it’s a Monte Carlo,” he continued, clearly upset by the fact that he lost. “1985. They aren’t even fast by racing standards.”

“It’s a good car,” she leaned forward, patting the dash with her hand. “You just have to know it’s strengths and weaknesses to drive it well.” 

“That car has zero strengths,” he laughed shallowly. “I spent years modding the hell out of that thing, and it’s still garbage.” 

“Clearly it’s not,” she smirked, looking forward again. “I just think you’re not a good driver.”

“Oh yeah?” He scoffed. “And what makes a good driver?” 

She shrugged. “Confidence.”

Before he could respond, the light turned green. Josie quickly accelerated, losing sight of him once again. She felt the breeze sweep through her hair as she weaved through the quiet streets of the city. She let her arm dip out of the window next to her, feeling the cool air push against her skin. 

The drive back to the garage was always one she dreaded. It meant the night was over—the racing was finished. If there was some world where she could race for the rest of her life, she’d take it in a heartbeat. She envied those who had the luxury, but it was one that was always out of reach for her. Perhaps it always would be. After all, nobody living on the line of poverty ever made it into professional motorsports overnight. 

No, that only happened in movies. 

•

“Hot or iced?” 

The customer, deadpanned, stared back at her as if she had just asked them the most complicated question in the world. 

“Uhhhh,” they glanced up at the menu again, before looking back towards her. “Iced?” 

They didn’t sound very sure in their answer, but she didn’t feel like pushing the matter further. She quickly typed the order in as the customer paid. While they walked away, she felt her shoulders sink in relief. 

Only thirty more minutes and she could go home. 

She glanced up at the TV that hung on the wall across the room. The coffee shop she worked in usually played all kinds of different channels, but this weekend, it was all Formula 1. 

As a Vegas native, she grew to resent when it was race week. Which seemed ironic, given her usual nighttime activities. But to her, F1 was a joke. All privileged, rich men who essentially paid their way to their seats. She knew in her gut that, if given the chance, she could out-drive any of them. It didn’t matter, though, because that would never happen. 

“Last year, Lewis Hamilton got coffee from here.”

Josie looked over her shoulder to find her coworker, Maggie, watching the TV with her. 

“He was so nice,” Maggie beamed, meeting her gaze. “He gave us a great review, too.”

“Too bad he can’t win another championship to save his life,” Josie mumbled. “I mean, he needs to retire at this point. Same with the other old guy.”

“Alonso?”

“Sure, whatever,” she waved Maggie off as she began to untie her apron. “They’re both too slow. Going slow doesn’t win you anything.” 

“Going slow doesn’t matter for most of them,” Maggie commented. “Think about the money most of them contribute to the teams—the sponsors. If any of them were let go, then that team also loses money going towards the car. Depending on the driver, that can cost you a good car, too.” 

“Every car can be a good car if they try,” Josie quipped, letting the apron hang from around her neck. “I’ve driven shitty cars—ones that don’t even compare to what shitty is by their definition. What they have is privilege. They’ll find any excuse to whine.” 

“I guess so,” Maggie lazily shrugged. “I just think you’re jaded, though.” 

“Jaded,” she echoed. “Yeah, something like that.”

The two of them turned their focus to the TV once more. One of the McLaren drivers was on the screen, talking about his hopes for the championships. Josie watched as he fidgeted with his hat, while answering each question. He was soft spoken—gentle. Her eyes wandered to the bottom of the screen, where his name flashed across on a banner. 

Oscar Piastri #81

McLaren, Australia

“They’re expecting him to win his first Driver’s Championship this season,” Maggie spoke up again. “If anyone on the grid has talent of any kind, it’s him.”

Josie couldn’t help but laugh at her coworker’s remark. Him? Talent? The guy could barely speak loud enough for the microphone to understand him. He hadn’t sat still for the entirety of the interview, either. 

“You know what, I’ll take your word for it,” she lifted the apron off from around her neck, then hung it on the wall beside them. “Have a good shift, Maggie. I’ll see you later.”

•

“Well, well, well—look what the cat dragged in.”

Josie tossed her things into a small locker in the garage as Blake made his way over to her. Blake was the founder of their racing league…if you could even call it a league. She met him five years ago in some dual-enrollment college classes during high school. They hardly got along, but their one common ground was racing. They tolerated each other, because Josie brought profit into his garage. She never got a cut, but she could care less—after all, she wasn’t there for the money. She was there to do what she loved most: race. She was damn good at it, too. 

“Always a pleasure,” she grumbled before hoisting herself up on the countertop beside the lockers. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Any takers?”

“One,” Blake hesitated momentarily, like he was unsure of what to say next. “But, uh, things are gonna have to operate a bit differently tonight.”

“What do you mean?” Josie furrowed her eyebrows at him. 

“They’re not with any street racing league,” Blake explained. “I don’t entirely know how they found us, but they’re willing to keep the league a secret—under one condition.” 

Josie’s stomach turned. They only raced against other street racing leagues in Vegas. If Blake is allowing outsiders, it could pose a huge risk to their operation being shut down—or even them going to jail. As her heart pounded in her chest, she hopped off the countertop. 

“What is that condition?” She asked tentatively. 

“They want a fair race,” Blake continued. “That means both drivers in the same car, on the same route. Not too different from how we do it, but there’s a catch,” he took a breath, “they want to race the F1 circuit.” 

Josie didn’t mean to laugh at his statement, but surely he had to be joking. How the hell would they get inside of that place? But beyond that, how were they to get two vehicles inside of there as well? 

“I’m assuming you know how to pull this off?” She scoffed. “Blake, that’s insane. Look, we’re already taking a risk trusting some outsiders, but now you want to break into an F1 track for them?”

“They claim they know how to get in without getting us in trouble,” he threw his palms up in defense. “Besides, they’re offering to pay both of us pretty decent money to do this.”

“I don’t care about the money,” Josie replied, her tone cold. “I care about losing the only thing that makes me happy because of your greedy ass decision. How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

“It’s not.”

Josie and Blake turned their heads towards the two gentlemen making their way into the garage. She recognized one of them as the other McLaren driver, though she couldn’t remember his name. The person with him, however, was unfamiliar. Blake stepped forward, extending a hand towards the driver. 

“Lando, good to meet you,” Blake said. They shook hands. “This is my driver, Josie Reyes.”

“Thunderbird,” Lando grinned, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his joggers. His gaze lingered over to her. “I’ve heard about you.” 

Thunderbird. A horrible nickname given to her by some of the other street racers—one that was reminiscent of a past she was trying to forget. She didn’t budge as the Brit extended a hand towards her. 

“How did you find us?” She demanded. 

“You beat my friend in a race last night,” Lando cleared his throat as his hand moved back into his pocket. “In his Monte Carlo. I figured I needed to come and witness your driving myself.”

Josie’s eyes flickered between Lando and the gentleman next to him. He was older than all three of them. Quiet, and stagnant. He was dressed nicely: clean, pressed slacks with a black pullover. His grey hair was styled back in a pompadour fashion. 

“Who are you?” She asked. 

“Graeme,” the man replied flatly. “Just here for business. I’m with Formula 1.” 

“He’s the team principal for Cadillac next year,” Lando explained further, clearly sensing the tension in the room. “He’s in Vegas for ‘talent-seeking’ purposes.” 

“Why is he here with you?” Josie crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you drive for McLaren?”

“Like I said, he’s talent-seeking.” Lando paused for a moment. His eyes scanned Josie, as if he were sizing her up—seeing her worth. “I heard you’re undefeated in street racing around here?”

She was, but he didn’t have any business knowing that. Neither did Graeme. Whatever reasoning brought them here didn’t grant them the right to knowing about their league—or about her. She knew Blake didn’t care, though. All he cared about was the money, which they probably paid him a lot of it to be here right now. Blake didn’t usually give up information so easily. 

“That’s need-to-know,” Josie stated. “Why do you want to race me? Don’t you have bigger concerns right now? Like, I don’t know, winning a championship?”

“Josie—“

“You could get us into a lot of trouble,” she continued, talking over Blake’s poor plea to stop. “You could get in trouble, too. What could you possibly gain from this?” 

“All I want is one race,” Lando explained slowly. His voice softer, calmer. A stark contrast to hers. “I just want to have some fun. Graeme, on the other hand, wants to see you drive.”

Josie sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the driver’s words. Why would a team principal want to see a street racer drive? It seemed too good to be true, like maybe there was a catch of some kind. Proving her talent to Cadillac would be one thing, but she was a nobody. She had nothing to offer them other than her capabilities. No monetary value, no status to her name, no famous family members of any kind…just Josie. 

“What would we be driving?” Her tone wavered cautiously. She didn’t want them thinking she was sold just yet, because she wasn’t. But she also didn’t want to give up the opportunity to drive tonight. 

“Have you ever driven an F1 car before, Josie?” 

“No fucking way,” Blake spoke before she could. “An F1 car? You’re joking.”

“Hardly,” now Graeme chimed in. “I’ve received special permission for us to have the McLaren cars and the circuit this evening.”

“Yes!” Blake exclaimed as he laughed in disbelief. Josie shot him a quick look of warning. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, no. She hasn’t driven an F1 car before. But yes, we will totally do so tonight.”

“So I don’t have a say in this?” Josie shoved Blake, turning to face him. “I don’t think this is a good idea—“

“You have the opportunity of a lifetime, Jo,” Blake argued quietly, grabbing ahold of her wrist. “Are you going to seriously throw that away right now?” 

Josie could see an unfamiliar glimmer in Blake’s eyes. 

He was genuinely looking out for her. 

Despite all the years of constant bickering and tolerating each other, Blake was truly the only person who understood her love for racing—because he felt it, too. And, despite the wall she had up right now, he saw right through her. She wanted to drive that car, and he knew that. 

The opportunity of a lifetime. 

Josie’s gaze flickered between the three men in the garage. As Blake loosened the hold on her wrist, Josie felt something shift inside of her. Perhaps it was gut instinct, or perhaps they had successfully convinced her to drive. Whatever it was, her next words spilled out before she could think twice.

“Fine. I’ll race you.”

•

copy-write disclaimer: None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

Taglist is OPEN: @ezzi-ln4 @annaswrites00 @frankiejo04 @dreadity @whiteghostlyclouds @namelessmoons-corner @mashmashi @taetae-armyyyyy

[coracaodeleao]

random icks they would give you

Viktor – Bites every pen he uses. Will talk to you about existential dread while absentmindedly chewing the lid off your favorite pen. Somehow doesn’t notice. Doesn’t wash his hair often, and his face is always greasy because of it. Makes way too many facial expressions — no poker face, ever.

Jinx – Has definitely licked at least one of your cups “just to see what you’d do.” Draws on the walls, the furniture, herself, and you if you sit still. Eats everything with her hands like it’s a challenge. Screams randomly. Either takes up way too much space or curls into a corner like she’s part of the wallpaper.

Silco – Talks to you like he’s giving a monologue, even when asking where the salt is. Breath smells like smoked regret and gasoline. Will say something at a whisper and act offended if you ask him to repeat. Tries to be mysterious, but there's always someone lurking behind him — even in the kitchen.

Caitlyn – Says “hmm” in that tone. You know the one. Wipes things you touched. Watches people eat like she’s mentally grading their technique. Carries hand sanitizer and offers it pointedly. Will correct your grammar in person and over text. Says things like “some people just weren’t raised properly” — with the person still in the room.

Vi – Loud. Always. Cuts her nails with a knife. Leaves socks in your bed . Chews with her mouth open if she really likes the food. Doesn’t dress for the occasion, ever. Will clean bruised knuckles with your dish sponge and leave it exactly where she found it.

Jayce – Owns zero clean shirts. Every single one has armpit stains. Thinks he’s being helpful but breaks everything and blames “bad design.” Wears too much cologne and it lingers. Sends 5-minute voice messages to tell you he's busy. Eats stuff he knows will upset his stomach. Loud texter.

Ekko – Hasn’t washed his hoodie because it’s “lived-in.” Always tinkering, leaves tiny sharp metal bits everywhere. Will forget plans because “time’s weird.” Will talk to you while riding his hoverboard above your head. You will get neck cramps from trying to maintain eye contact.

Mel – Compliments you like she’s roasting you. “You look… bold today.” Makes eye contact too intense to be comfortable. Constantly looks like she’s silently judging you. Wears heels and jewelry just to sit on the couch. Has never washed a dish in her life.

Sevika – Smells like cigarettes, rust, and “don’t ask about the job.” Stomps when she walks. Spits when passionate and never acknowledges it. Never takes off her boots indoors. Disappears mid-conversation when her phone buzzes. Appears out of nowhere and scares the hell out of you every time.

Vander – Has eternal pub energy. Smells like beer and smoke even fresh out of the shower. Scratches under his shirt in public. Picks at his belly button when he thinks no one’s looking. Knows everyone and stops to talk to all of them. Says “I got this” then immediately throws out his back.

Ambessa – Talks while chewing and spits when excited. Uses expensive products as if they are nothing, alwayas have to buy a new one every week. Her handshake bruises. The table shakes when she laughs. Smacks your back way too hard when she finds something funny. Always thinks she’s right — and will say so.

Heimerdinger – Whistles when he’s thinking. Loudly. For hours. Leaves beard and fur hair all over your sink and claims it’s “natural shedding.” Says “fascinating!” when you’re venting about emotional stuff . Has lived hundreds of years and is still somehow confused about basic slang.

Sky Young and Steb – Flawless beings. No notes. Perfect. Untouchable.

[silkenwinger]

Ok what about enemies to lovers where reader and Gaz kinda fight for Prices approval and yknow price would just love it

hiii anon!! this is a prequel to this, hope you like it :)

Jonathan Price has had only long days for the last 20 years.

Okay, not totally true. He had a short day that one time he woke up late at noon. But it’s obvious to anyone who knows him that he holds himself to a high standard, and the same goes for the people that work under and alongside him. Everyone is on the same wavelength: zero fucking around, one hundred percent getting shit done.

The nature of the job attracts a range of… personalities, but they all have the capacity to detach themselves from the job. It’s a profession that demands maturity and willingness to do actions most people are not capable of.

It doesn’t mean immature behaviour is completely lost…

You got recommended to the team by Laswell, the one person he will always listen to, and you’ve more than proved your worth to all. You’re a quick thinker and executer, and the mission’s end goal always comes first to you. No notes. And Gaz… since they met in the hell that was Piccadilly that day, he’s never had a doubt the man is gold. God knows he’s been through it (they all have) yet his will has never wavered. Head straight on.

So he can’t really reckon with all this.

It's been some weeks of passive aggressiveness but also active aggressiveness. Price isn't sure when the whole ordeal started, but he knows the two of you aren't getting along. He can tell because when you lose hand-to-hand with Ghost and Soap you concede quickly, professionally, yet when it's Gaz that pins you down, you don't hesitate to bite him in the arm, try to buck him off more than necessary. And Gaz holds a certain tension in his jaw when you're around, like he’s holding off going on a rant at all times.

So far, it hasn't affected active duty enough for Price to give you two a talk, but he's monitoring the situation.

“Captain!” You salute excited during training, clipboard in your arms. You proceed to show off all your corporals’ results, underlining the personal bests and areas of improvement. All through your explanation you’re not really looking at him, though. Your eyes keep sliding off to Garrick, almost as if to say, look at how better my underlyings are compared to yours. It’s no surprise then that all of Gaz’s corporals would be subjected to an intensive training lasting a whole day. He’d feel bad but the boys need it. 

Gaz is not above petty techniques either. During a war game, a simulation of a possible tactic against Makarov, he steals part of your assignment during it, claiming later that he just had more time than predicted and that he thought he’d take some burden off her, Captain. Gaz “wins” the war game, and the steam coming from you is almost visible in the chill night air. 

Later, as he lights up a cigar, Simon blinks slowly in the poorly lit room.

“I could consider it flattering,” Price exhales, squinting, the day even longer than usual, “two soldiers fighting for my attention. Hmp,” he coughs out, true smoker's hack. Ghost only raises one invisible brow. John’s nonchalance can only hide the pride in his voice so much.

“I think something else is breeding, though,” he looks at Ghost attentively now, trying to convey a meaning that can't be expressed with words yet. Ghost’s voice almost carries a hint of irony as he sips his bourbon.

“Oldest story in the book,” he says, flatly. It's only a question of time.

[just-thoughts-no-vibes]

Hello everyone and welcome back to random Stardew Valley headcanons! In todays episode we have: "Can bachelors and bachelorettes fight." It was funny to me that some weapons in the game belong to them and made me think about characters' fighting skills, so here we are. They are ranked from best to worst. Enjoy!

Bachelors:

Alex: Canonically shredded. Works out every day. Doesn't have much experience but has beaten a few guys in high school. If something happens to Evelyn and George he will never forgive himself so he needs to be ready to throw hands in case someone attacks them.

Sam: Not as strong as Alex but definitely fast. Has to be strong so he can beat anyone who picks on Vincent. He wants his brother to see him as cool so he has to show off sometimes. Took "the man of the house" very seriously after Kent left.

Shane: Was strong as hell in his youth and picked fights left and right, but over the years it changed. He can still throw a good punch and has experience with bar fights. After he gets sober, he tries to get back in shape so he can take care of Jass and his chicken.

Sebastian: Weak and skinny. Spends his days in his room, moving only when necessary. Smokes, probably doesn't eat healthily. Haven't worked out once in his life. He was never interested in fighting but can throw a surprisingly decent punch and run really fast after that.

Harvey: Can not fight to save his life. Will try to de-escalate the situation, will fail, and then try to run. But in my head, he is so clumsy and would trip over nothing. At least he can treat himself after.

Elliot: Absolutely useless in any kind of physical activity. He doesn't like to sweat so he doesn't work out. He sees fighting as barbaric and won't participate. But even if he tried he would fail miserably. He just has to be over the top in everything and would make a show with exaggerated moves, which will lead to him getting hurt by others or even himself.

Bachelorettes:

Leah: Shredded. Works with wood on a daily basis, cutting trees down, modeling them, or carrying her materials around. She is also smart enough not to move into the cottage in the woods with no knowledge of self-defense. Probably protected weaker kids in middle and high school from bullies.

Abigail: Much worse than she thinks but still okay. Doesn't have the discipline to put in the real work but likes training with the sword. Would learn to fight just to piss Pierre. Was always naturally strong. Zero experience tho.

Emily: Older sibling with neglectful/absent parents who has to take care of their younger sibling = knows how to fight, I don't make the rules. Although I don't think Emily is happy about that. She is a pacifist and tries to resolve everything with good talk and positive energy. She curses people when they make her mad and would restore to violence only in exceptional situations.

Haley: She. Fights. Dirty. She doesn't like sweating so she doesn't work out and she also doesn't want to break her nails or ruin her hair, but she has the rage and would hurt someone who insults her or her sister. The moment you attack her she is pulling your hair, biting you, scratching, and going for the eyes. She is also a pro at using her bag to beat someone up.

Maru: Not really into fighting and prefers to destroy her enemies with her gadgets. I also picture her as fairly short. She also never gets in situations where she needs to fight so she has zero experience. The closest she got into a fight was when someone made fun of Penny. But she does have an older brother with whom she doesn't get along so she is familiar with younger sibling fighting techniques.

Penny: Can not fight. Zero skill and zero will to do so. She condemns every form of violence and avoids it at any cost. She is the type of person who would feel bad because she pushed a person who was beating her up. But she is likable and quiet so she doesn't end up in situations where she needs to fight.