#this should be sufficient. (ask)

[corviiids]

hello ⭐star⭐ for that one post about fanfic director’s commentary, hope you’re having a lovely day

thank u so much!!! i hope ur having a wonderful day too :3 ok hmm let's go with death note this time. let's talk about they both die at the end

(obviously death cw and suicidal ideation cw as well and also it's long again.)

so this one is kind of an undignified wrestle with mortality and legacy. no big dramatic strides made in that struggle, because i think getting satisfying closure about the acceptance of your own death is sort of gauche. i prefer a running stream of consciousness where you kinda flop around in the ring and kind of come to terms with things but in a really damp and hollow and itchy way.

throughout this fic i tried to use L's narration to contrast the source of his panic with the source of light's. both of them are acting sort of out of character in the sense that neither's behaviour is really aligned with the way they act in canon, and the reason i did that is sort of as a response to their own impending deaths. nobody's going to act like themselves in that circumstance. i even have them say it outright:

“I’m not really a nihilist,” says Light. “I wonder what you’d think of me if you’d met me on a normal day.” ... [L:] “I’m not ordinarily apathetic, either, by the way.”

one very simple detail showing that contrast is this:

L closes the door without locking it. He picks a direction at random and starts walking.

...

And it’d turned out they were nearby, so now they’re at Light’s apartment. “I didn’t think I’d be back here today,” he tells L, sticking his key in the lock. “Sorry if it’s messy.”

basically, light is in flight and L is in freeze. L doesn't bother locking his door when he leaves the house in the morning, but light does. L knows/accepts/has resolved that he won't be returning home that day. part of light still refuses to accept that, even though he leaves the house with the intention of ending his life.

i don't think it's fair to say that L's acceptance is more mature or that he's more at peace with his fate. it's more like...

so, L approaches situations with the perspective of looking at what is. he's truth-oriented. he accepts the facts of a given matter and then uses them to extrapolate what comes next. that extrapolation is really key to his character so it honestly bugs me a lot when people try to say that L is a purely logical character. he's not! he's running on intuition like 99% of the time and a lot of his extrapolations are wild and not evidence-based at all, but the reason for that is that he has an incredibly strong intuition based on how effectively he processes information. so L understands based on the phone call that he's going to die today, and there's really no point arguing around that fact. however, he can't actually figure out what his next steps are, because there are no next steps. he's going to die today.

throughout the story he struggles immensely with the fact that there is a piece of information he can't attain using the information he already has: he doesn't know when he's going to die, only that it's going to happen before midnight, and so he is completely unable to plan what he should do next, because he can't see any course of action through to its conclusion:

Two. Three. Two. Three. Four. Three. Two. L shakes his head. Can’t count up. Can’t count down. The numbers keep changing, but he can’t find zero. “No,” he says. Deductive reasoning, by its nature, requires premises—in order to find a fact, you must have a fact to begin with. You cannot begin with a baseline of nothing. With no reference, there can be no inference. L keeps counting, but there is no zero, or rather, there is a zero and he doesn’t know where it is. The next second could be his last, or the next, or the next, and all he can know is that at some point the ticking will stop and there is no way to orient himself to it because that point keeps moving .

this drives L crazy. that uncertainty is being represented by this incessant ticking in L's head which won't fade. ok so have you ever used a metronome? say you're counting in 4/4, so the click would play like ONE two three four ONE two three four. the rhythm is steady, but there's one emphasised beat to orient you to where you are in the measure. or, say, a ticking clock, where you can glance at it to see where you are in the 60 seconds that make up a minute. you can count down to when the next minute begins. or a timer, where you can see it counting down to zero. in L's head, he knows the ticking is counting down to the moment of his death, but he doesn't know what it's counting down to because he can't see it. he doesn't know where zero is, there's no emphasis to orient him, and he doesn't know which second he's at in the minute. he could start doing something and then die in the next three seconds, and it would be abrupt and jarring and unsatisfying, like the feeling you get when you take a breath and get winded. so he's in freeze. L accepts that he's going to die today, but he doesn't know when, and the whole time he's thinking about all the things he's never gotten to experience in his life because he's always sort of taken the concept of existence for granted. but he can't figure out how to take steps to try and check things off, because he's never actually made that list. and why make it now? because he might not get to finish them, and that's really unsatisfying. and how do you prioritise when you know you're not going to get to the end of your list and your list is infinity items long? he can't plan. he can't move. he's stuck. he panics, frozen.

light on the other hand has always had a plan for his future, and he's just watched that timeline rapidly shrink and cut all the opportunities off that he'd always been counting down towards. suddenly everything he's done up until now feels like a huge waste, because it was all a run-up to something that now doesn't exist. and he can't bear the fact that the control he'd always taken care to maintain over his life has suddenly been wrested away from him. that's why he starts the story out trying to kill himself - at the very least, he can control the when and cut the fear off.

Light swallows his mouthful of tuna and says, “If I can’t control my fate, I can at least bring it about myself.” “Does controlling your fate matter to you?” “That’s a stupid question,” says Light. “If you asked me yesterday I’d have had a hundred thousand things to say that mattered more to me than choosing how I’d die. My options have just kind of narrowed today, that’s all.”

L's right, though - light never would have done it. light wants to live more than he ever realised. i think light's had this moment of looking down the tunnel (hehe) and staring down his own impending death and realised he's not finished yet, but that's been taken out of his hands. he's realised that the mark he's left on the world has been so small and insignificant, and that if he dies now, that'll be all that's left of him. he's not willing to accept that. but that's the way things are. so he's in flight: run towards his own death so at least he can control the pace at which he dies? try to outrun the inevitable? try to speedrun a meaningful life to see if he can make some kind of mark before he stops existing for good?

“I don't know what we're walking to,” says Light. “I feel like I'm walking closer to my—to my own—” “We can stop.” “That just means it'll happen here instead. I don't want to die here, either.” “Where do you want to die?” “I don't,” Light says. His face crumples. “I just don’t. I'm not ready to be done.”

this is my favourite part of the fic tbh. it's based on a nightmare i had once that ended up changing my entire worldview. wahoo!

not to be a wanker but to an extent this is kind of what everyone's doing, technically, walking towards what will inevitably be your death, since time only moves in one direction and all that. but unlike everyone in the real world, light can see it. he wants to walk in the other direction, but it's all around him. he can see it growing closer the more he keeps moving, and all he wants to do is stop.

“What do I say?” Light asks desperately. “Hi, Dad. Hi, Mum.” Break. “Sorry I'll never give you grandchildren. Sorry I didn't get to graduate. Sorry you'll have to bury my dreams with me. Sorry for nineteen years that came to nothing in the end. It came to nothing.”

re: light refusing to speak to his family: i think he explains himself in the fic enough, but there's also another level where i think talking to his family about it means he'd have to formulate this fact into words which is difficult when he's not really accepted it himself, and on top of that, he would need to carry his family's grief and he's just not ready to do that. there's like a weird thing about talking to people who are already grieving you. i always felt really weird about that when talking to [friends/relations] who were terminally ill. light's relationship with his mother is kind of unexplored in canon but i wanted to go into it i think because your mother is someone who holds a unique spot in your life, i think, assuming you have a good relationship with her, and there is that reported phenomenon where people who are about to die tend to call out for their mothers. i guess this might be controversial but i think it's textually supported that light really cares about his family. i dont think light is ready to look at them and see them looking at him like he's someone who's already gone, and see all the things he never got to do with/for them. i honestly dont think hed survive it

ultimately it was really important to me that light died for no reason and that he didn't really have any material impact on anything. he dies trying to save a child, but someone else saves the kid first. light didn't have to take action at all. but of course, he did

As L stares, reaching hands scoop the toddler off the street from the other side.

i think in a sense it's up to personal opinion whether light had an impact or whether his friendship with L mattered at all before he died. after all, L died like an hour later, and it's not like he had anyone to pass those memories on to. he didn't even know light's surname. the memories of their last day together only exist with each other, and now they're both gone, so did it really matter? what does it mean to matter anyway? do you have to leave a legacy? is it enough that light managed to be L's only friend in the hours before L stopped existing? probably?

It's dark now. Properly dark. It's a new moon tonight, and though the stars do their best, there's little that can cut through the blackness in its absence.

...

L stares up at the moonless sky.

...

It might have been nice to die with the moon.

ofc light's name is written with the kanji for moon. just a silly joke lol.

L's death is something that's more likely to happen when you're alone, by the way. he gets mugged because he's an easy target sitting alone on a park floor. too bad he didn't have more friends and his only friend is dead.

also, the fact that he's a detective who gets murdered in a random act of crime was sort of another nod to the futility of the whole thing that light struggles with in canon. like, work your ass off, solve crime after crime, bring people to justice, but it never ends. crime continues. so is there a point? (yes, obviously.) but that's just a return to the struggle for legacy and meaning, where it's hard not to wonder whether the thing you're doing matters if it's not permanent / if you didn't solve something for good / if you didn't leave a mark that will never fade. i dunno. i think L did enough good in his lifetime. it wasn't enough to save him, but everyone dies eventually, so maybe it doesn't really matter?

i didn't want to give either of them the dignity of a full final thought. light definitely doesn't realise what's happening in the moment before he dies because he didn't see the truck, so i think he didn't have a chance to formulate one.

L watches a look of relief cross Light's face in the split second before the truck horn blares.

L of course gets cut off mid-sentence, just like he'd implicitly feared he might - trying to check things off the list, tie things off, before he's done:

What might a good final thought be? A final sight? He wonders if he could possibly find a star before

hopefully if you read the fic you got something out of it! it is, i think, intentionally pretty hollow and futile feeling, but not in a way that's supposed to make you feel hopeless or nihilistic. well, i hope not. i think there's something really cathartic that comes with the kind of closure you get specifically from accepting that sometimes there's no closure. that's how i felt writing it, so hopefully reading it is something similar. i dunno!

[galactiquest]

Unexpected Waltz

Fandom: Trigun Pairing: Millions Knives x Reader Other Characters: None Notes: So ummm... Hi!!! I’ve been quiet on this blog for a while because I’ve been hemming and hawing about whether I want to keep participating in this community with others (I haven’t had a whole lot of good experiences tbh) but... I decided to whip up a little Knives x Reader for old time’s sake. Please enjoy! Also, this song inspired the title and general feel. Word count: 921

Warnings: None, just some dancing and a semi-established relationship. And maybe very slightly out of character Knives but this is my house and I get to decide how Knives talks.

[Also crossposted to AO3!]

“I see no point to the task of dancing.”

Millions Knives, the Plant who was forever unconvinced that there was any substance to be taken from extraneous activities and pastimes of humans. And you, the human who loved him and desperately wanted him to do something nice with you.

You knew there’d be a rift between your worlds the moment you met him, regardless of whether that led to a relationship or not. Knives was just so convinced that he was different that he couldn’t fathom partaking in any sort of human activity.

Which, at first, you didn’t really mind–you wouldn’t push him, and he wouldn’t push you. Most of the time.But today, you really wanted to dance with him. Everything felt right, but he stayed stiff as a board on the other side of the room, arms crossed as crackly music came from the record player.

“Come on,” you huffed, mirroring his pout. “Just one little dance won’t kill you, you know.”

“Waste of energy,” Knives added. “Waste of time. All of it, a waste.”

“You said the same thing about kissing and hugging and cuddling at night.”

“And I’m still right,” he snided. “But it’s beneficial to you. That kind of contact releases oxycontin, a critical chemical for your wellbeing.”

“And you don’t feel even a little nice when we do it?”

Knives closed his eyes and refused to answer.

“Well. Dancing feels good, for one. It’s nice to move your body in a rhythmic fashion.” You spun around a little. “Humans have developed a multitude of dancing styles, both for music and without music. Some dances are sacred and used to tell stories, while others are just for fun.”

“...So it’s important.” He was looking away, but had a slight quirk to his lip that could imply a smile–the I’m-not-interested-but-since-it’s-with-you-and-I-like-you smile.

“To me, at least.” You held out a hand. “Will you at least try it? Just once?”

Something he’d heard a lot. When you urged him to take a bite of your cooking, or to draw on some scrap paper, or read a book that wasn’t another tome full of boring nonsense. And every time, he’d groan and lament about how you were expecting too much out of his greatness, how he shouldn’t bother with these things–but he’d still do them, so who was the real winner?

Both of you, actually. He just refused to admit that he’d both lost and won.

After a moment of hesitation, he approached, putting his hand in yours. Ever so gently.

That was the one far cry of the Knives that stayed in your house and laid in your bed from the one that used to be in the elements of the desert–he was gentle in most everything he did, despite his cruelty before, despite the harshness in his words. Maybe he knew that you were human and mortal, and you could only handle a mere fraction of his power before snapping. Maybe he really didn’t want you to break, because he finally found someone who could hear him.

Maybe he didn’t want to be alone.

You placed his hand on your shoulder, reaching the matching one on your side to his hip (his shoulder was far too high to hold comfortably) and interlacing fingers on the other side.

“I’ll lead us, okay?” You were alright with dancing–not an expert, but not completely clueless, either. A simple step would be fine.

“...Alright.” Knives usually hated relinquishing control, but he had extremely barebones dancing skills, if any at all, and didn’t want to step on your toes. Literally or figuratively.

Slowly, you moved your feet to the beat of the music, letting Knives follow in your footsteps. He was able to pick up the rhythm easily, though he was primarily just copying what you were doing. You took him around the room, spinning gently, watching his unmoving expression as he stared at you. There was a slight gleam in his eye–the gleam of I-like-you-but-I’m-trying-not-to-show-it.

As the music continued, you pulled away from him slightly, twirling yourself around his arm. He seemed a bit confused, but your smile was enough for him to allow this to happen. There was a certain warmth in his chest that came from his hand on your shoulder, your hand on his waist, and the other hands intertwined to the side. It felt nice, as much as he loathed to admit it. Knives almost wanted the music to last forever, but it was coming to an end.

“I’m gonna dip you!” You said, bracing your hand behind his waist.

Knives sort of knew this move. He wanted to make some kind of remark, one along the lines of you won’t be able to hold me up, but his body reacted before he made up his mind. He fell backwards, letting you keep him close with one arm. You still strained against his weight–how can one man be so dense, you wondered–but were able to hold the move for a few seconds until the needle bumped itself off the record, music stopping.

Knives stood up, partially taking you with him as you slid off of him.

“Well? What did you think?” You asked, grinning up at him.

Knives huffed out of his nose, then replied. “It… Wasn’t that bad. But don’t expect me to do it again.”

The tiniest smile formed on his face as he turned away. I want to do it again so badly! Please dance with me again!

You knew him too well by now.

[catboyidia]

Heya! I have midterms this week (wish me luck), can I ask for some floof head canons to give me energy?

I'm okay if you want to keep it in the omegaverse au or not, also good with ags and bc (and anything you'd like to add)

Thank youuu, hope you're doing good

omg i wish you best of luck anon! i really hope all goes well! :)

heres a few of the softest/most domestic headcanons that come to mind:

(mostly asg but there is one zc too)

- genesis has a secret stash of stuffed animals, including his favorite thats a little grey cat he's had for a long time that he calls "sephy", and he refuses to let sephiroth find out about it. only angeal knows about it, and he teases genesis about "sephy" whenever he sees it but he has also promised to keep genesis' secret, partially because they have a deal that if angeal keeps "sephy" a secret, genesis won't tell zack about the time angeal absolutely gushed, and even got emotional about how proud he was of zack when zack got promoted to first (it was angeal's proudest "fatherly" mentor moment)

- the first time cloud brought zack home to meet his mom, he was incredibly nervous about how it would go, and even zack was a little nervous about making a good impression, but as soon as claudia saw them together and saw how zack treated cloud, she instantly loved zack and welcomed zack as a part of the family, treating him like a son and even giving zack her blessing to marry cloud in the future. not to mention that claudia also felt it necessary to start telling zack every single embarrassing moment in cloud's childhood, which zack found absolutely adorable, but poor cloud could only sit there in horror

- before asg went public with their relationship, the three of them, mainly genesis though, would always find ways to sneak small kisses and whisper soft "i love you"s to each other in the minuscule timeframes between their public appearances, which nearly led to them being caught numerous times. and whenever they had public appearances as a group, like interviews and whatnot, they would always do things like link their pinkies together under a table or just out of view of the cameras, or they would "accidentally" brush the back of their hands together, just doing anything they could to be as close as possible in public without being caught

- sometimes angeal will get cold since he's the only one who doesn't have a coat as part of his uniform, so genesis will lend angeal his coat, but not without teasingly "scolding" angeal the way he knows angeal would scold him or sephiroth if they were in the same position, almost as payback for all the times angeal has scolded them over small things

- on rare occasions, sephiroth will be in a very specific clingy mood where he wants nothing more than to just cuddle or be cuddled by genesis and angeal, but he never voices his desires, not really knowing how to. although despite sephiroth never saying anything, genesis and angeal are somehow always able to tell what sephiroth wants, always being able to notice the tiniest of subtle hints and differences in sephiroth's behavior, and they always find it to be the cutest thing ever, and never hesitate to give sephiroth what he wants

[dancingplague]

I've been reading Magical Mathematics: The Mathematical Ideas That Animate Great Magic Tricks, and because I am an irredeemable dumbfuck I cannot understand any of it without actually taking a pack of cards and physically laying them out on the table in front of me. I was doing this at a coffee shop when I ended up in conversation with an elderly superstitious woman who informed me that she was so pleased to find a young person not glued to their phone, which was very funny because I was extremely obviously referencing the book on my phone but I guess the cards negated the phone. She informed me that in her opinion lots of magicians are doing "something evil" but she assured me that she did not mean me and she is sure there's nothing supernatural about my math tricks.

[quietingblade]

[ 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 ] : sender has gotten injured protecting the receiver.

Clinically, Poe slides a finger along a gash that runs the length of her forearm, testing the severity of the wound. Livable, she concludes. Unfortunate, but livable.

Still, not a lick of regret in her mind.

"How reprehensible that they would endanger an innocent," she comments, and to her, as far as she knows this is true. She has only seen the woman around the academy a scant few times, assisting with dire medical needs. "I suppose people of all kinds make their way around these parts."

Hraesvelgr pulls her small bag of medical supplies closer to her side, holding out hands to take her arm.

"I thank you," she says, in that soft, low voice. "Though, I can defend myself next time someone decides to attack." She gently begins to wrap gauze loosely around the wound, delicate fingers stretching the fabric to catch the bleeding. "I don't imagine this will take too long to heal. You are lucky." Her eyes flick up towards the other. "My name is Hraesvelgr," she says, finally. "Are you one of the knights here?"

[bulkyphrase]

Have you made a Slave Steve Rogers rec list yet?

(Like the institution of slavery and not the kink)

Ooooh--I haven't, but I'll definitely add it to the ideas list! Glancing over my bookmarks there are a couple Roman gladiator stories and a few noncon/dubcon porn fics that come immediately to mind.

[a-lil-bi-furious]

🍓🥺🥰

Mem!!! 💕

one of the kindest, most supportive, most helpful and encouraging people I've ever known

incredible willingness to help others

the most breathtaking, galaxy brain, artistic gif sets

unbelievably talented writer!! literally every word is filled with love and your writing seamlessly slots into canon (that is, if canon were better). Characterization and tone always A+++

funny and vibrant, easy-going, but fierce in convictions. Literally such a joy to interact with in any capacity!

A pillar of the Scott fandom and warrior for all underappreciated characters. genuinely one of the biggest reasons I got involved in fandom/created and shared stuff at all. your encouragement has really pushed me to engage and your support has made me feel loved and welcomed in fandom despite my lying brain!

(send a🍓so i can say nice things <;3)

[endcant]

people are generally very nice to me for no reason. like there are rude people but usually there’s additional factors for why they are being rude. but most people are just nice for no reason. they have shit to worry about, they have shit to do, but they’re friendly and polite. most of my life, most people have been nice to me. there are exceptions, of course, but… i don’t know. i expected worse, i guess. i was told it’d be a dog eat dog world, but it’s more of a “dog sees another dog and starts wagging its tail” world. and all the cruelty is the anomaly, i think. i was told people are bad by nature, but i don’t see it. i see a lot of misled people. i see a lot of scared people. i see SOME bad people. but that’s a shadowy face of a world that is so full of decency. so much more decency than i ever expected. it could be good. we could be so good.

[footballandshit]

hi! saw your tags on a reblog about the real/barça video and wanted to explain the history for you, i’ll try to keep it as short as i can, but know that the history is extensive.

of course the main reason behind the conflict between the clubs is who they represent. historically barça has represented catalonia and real madrid has represented spain, spanish royalty, and the francoist regime.

franco was dictator in spain and sought to destroy all semblance of catalan culture, language, and political movements. the catalan language was banned under his regime and barça was made to remove the catalan flag from its crest after the spanish civil war (in which franco’s fascist side won). leftist political organizations were eliminated and franco responded with violence to any uprising that demanded democracy and independence for catalonia, bombing their cities multiple times.

probably the most damning thing for franco’s action against barça was when the president of fc barcelona was assassinated by his troops. suñol (barça pres.) was vocal about his support of left-wing politics and anti-fascism, and was unjustly killed one year after becoming president of barça.

it is beyond football. as neutral as the clubs try to be it has always been more than just football. so i hope you can understand how horrible that video is. to claim that franco was in favor of barça and that barça is the “regime club” is appalling after all that barcelona and catalonia had been through during the francoist dictatorship, and what they still continue to experience to this day.

hi anon! thank you for answering my call, and i really appreciate you taking your time to explain this to me quite comprehensively. i was initially so confused - as to why such a video was even posted in the first place, and why people were getting mad about it. thanks to your elaboration, i now understand the context, and why that video is a pretty fucked up thing to put out there. although i have been watching the spanish league from a young age, i was genuinely not aware of such deep political issues transcending the sport of football itself. i tried to do some reading on the matter, but it's quite obvious that some materials out there are biased and the stories kinda differ from one another.

so thank you, once again, for the insight! as you said, the history is extensive, so i'll definitely try to read up on this!

[bom-bombon]

Helloooo can you gives us headcanons over illojuan

ABSOLUTELY!!!!

I think my boi Juanito is like Willy in that he just likes causing trouble. I always describe him to my friends as a little shit. He’s a troll! There’s no real reason or explanation for his actions, just that he think they’re so funny

When I think of Illojuan, I think of him as some guy. He's not extraordinary like the rest of the boys; he's just a silly, simple dude! Bro keeps to himself

Actually, he uses that invisibility to his advantage to commit crimes, frame others, etc.

To me, he's BiAce

This isn’t really my headcanon, I read about it on twitter, however, I like the idea that Illo and Quackity treat each other like brothers. They teach each other their respective Spanish accents and vocabulary (though I feel like they will both try to troll each other with that or worse, to their friends). They would see each other at an event and think “oh yeah, its gonna be a fun day” and like fuck with each other. Sometimes when Quackity needs to rant, he goes to Juan and let it out, and in the meantime, Juan is just eating it all up cuz he is a fucking chismoso. You know how I said before that he’s a simple dude who mostly stays away from drama, that doesn’t mean he will not listen in to all that drama with popcorn. Or worse, cause the drama. Also, he’d probably convince Quackity into getting him to work for him too like for instance, cleaning up the chiringuito as he just rants. If he’s being honest with himself, Juan do like Quacks around and sees him as the closest thing to family

Speaking of duos, I think my favorite one involving Juan is with Sapo Peta, the Cupid Duo. I just love their dynamic so much. Actually, I need to ask: did y’all remember when Illo was like “me gustas” to Sapo Peta? If you haven't seen it, here it is. I find it too funny to not include it somewhere here. Aside from that whole confession, Juanillo genuinely enjoys his company and sees Sapo Peta as one of his closest friends next to Mangel. He also gets Sapo Peta to also help him in some illegal acts without him knowing. They need to team up and impersonate as Quackity more often I still quote them from that stream. Actually fuck it, those two would do more letters from other members and have fun with it or to try and get Sapo Peta’s their ships canon.

Just a personal touch but he sells mezcal in his chiringuito

The chiringuito smells like Karmahuana I just know it. You know what. Not just the chiringuito, the whole damn area. People stop by and go, “Oh it smells nice here” and its literally weed

Tangentially related to the last point but I know for sure Juan makes some bomb ass edibles, a good cook as well

Not a headcanon but man I wanna draw him getting high on a beach... and also a beach episode for his chiringuito......

You actually got me to revisit a drawing I did during the Titi custody battle before he died lmao:

Actually, it be funny if Illo has experience in law

Since it's been a while since you've asked this, I'll throw in a couple of old sketches I have of my babygirl under the keep reading section.

i actually don’t mind this as much, i just think i hated how oversaturated I made his shirt fghjhgf

This was when I tried to make a ref sheet for him (and the rest of the karmaland boys) but i was too ambitious with so little time

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[slythereen]

cracking open a cold one (desktop dashboard) with the boys (anons trying to join in my shared delusion)

[hoshigray]

This is my first time requesting something but HEAR ME OUT, "Slow Cuddle-fucking with og Sukuna while he is holding (and caressing) Reader (His wife) tightly and praising her (with him having size(difference) and breeding kink) oneshot please please please PLEASESSS😭

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: NAH CUZ I SEE THE VISION, HOLD ON–

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks, y'all) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spooning dp position - breast fondling + nipple play - breeding kink - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - dacryphilia - pet names ([little]dove, good girl, my wife, woman) - soft! kuna, but not too OOC - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

“Stay still, woman…Mmnnn, good girl, nice and easy…”

It’s not a rarity for Sukuna to have his hands on you as you two slept through the night. After all, he is the King of Curses; asking permission to touch his is beneath him. You were made for him to hold – sculpted for his cursed hands to touch – everyone else was far behind or had no standing compared to your demonic husband. And with you both sharing a futon every night, who’s supposed to tell him to keep his hands to himself?

You, his little spouse, knew of this. Marrying the King of Curses was something you never imagined would happen — let alone falling in love with the giant man! You’ve always had dreams of becoming a sweet little partner to someone; for that to be fulfilled by the cursed man who could kill thousands in the blink of an eye is astounding. 

And, of course, being a wife entails all the duties accompanying the package. Especially now, as you two lie together on the floor, nude bodies nestled close on the futon above the tatami floor, and your naked figure trembling from the insertion of one of Sukuna’s paired cock. And your heart drops at the second one brushing up against the crevice of your ass when he pushes the one inside your throbbing, velvety channel. 

“Mmmph…! Sukuna, no,” you whined, your butt inching away from the second member. “I can’t handle both—“

“Don’t lie; you’ve done it before and did it well,” a hand brings your waist to him. “Or maybe I should just have one of the concubines take care of me, seeing as though my own wife is neglecting their duties.” 

He wouldn’t do that; Sukuna’s interest in his insignificant mistresses had long been diminished once he took you up as his bride, practically collecting dust as he hadn’t visited them since you shared a bed with him. Now, he uses them as tools to probe you. And he has to hold back the mischievous snicker when your eyes widen with anxiousness, wrapping your arms around his neck in desperation.

“N–No, please!” You pleaded; it was the only sufficient approach. “I’ll be good to you, I promise!”

The four-eyed curse scoffs. “Then do what you’re supposed to,” Each crimson orb takes in information about your bashful expression, “And attend to your husband like a wife should.”

Further complaints cease at his command, so you quiet down and arch your behind to him submissively. Sukuna takes your initiation with his hungry bottom hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you guide his other dick to your lubed asshole. With a hum, he pushes himself and forces you to take his cocks with your bottom, needing a few seconds to breathe when your holes reach the base of his members.

“Good girl,” he says to your ear to make you shudder, and he lifts your leg with the hand that finished groping your asscheek. “Obeying me so well like always…”

He begins to move without a signal, slowly pulling himself in and out of your warm wetness that coats his length with your slick. You can’t help but grip the girth limbs that massage your insides, involuntarily throbbing on them with shaky breaths.  

“Mmmaah, ohhhmyG—Mmm!” Speech isn’t easy, even with his upper left hand cupping your cheeks. And your brows furrow as the upper right sneaks to grope a breast. “Faaahh, Suk..una, I’m too full already…”

“Mmm? Is that so?” Sukuna asks with a patronizing tone, licking the helix of your ear to hear you gasp. “But we’ve barely started yet, my wife. Don’t bore me before I can enjoy you yet.” 

His hips go at a gradual cadence that has you keening a mess, the sensation of the veins of his cocks felt by the walls of your holes. You howl silently, not wanting to make too much noise.

But that doesn’t fly with your husband, speaking to your ear with that hoarse voice. Almost has you melting as he squishes with your cheeks, “Let it out, princess,” he commands. “I want to hear that voice; don’t you dare hide that from me.”

Fuck, the way you felt on his dicks was so fucking good, having the cursed behemoth burrow his face into the cubby of your neck. Slow kisses on your skin segway to sucks that should mark for later. He could never get enough of how small you were up against him. His giant palm swallowed your tit, your ass bouncing with every thrust, and how damn tight you were as you accommodated the two members making your entrances busy. 

Goddamn it, he bites his lip, dialing up the speed of his ruts a bit. Scratching your inner walls has you squeaking louder, unable to stop yourself when he grinds his hips after a sudden grim pound. So warm and snug for him as if you were meant for him. He knew you were meant for him — taking his huge, fat shafts with no objections, just arching your back further so the sensation could be more pleasurable like the loyal, little pet you are. “Hmngh…! Yeah, just like that, little dove; keep clenching around me like that…”

Restraint was gone long ago, letting your voice and shrieks fly out and fill the quiet bedroom. The sound of his skin shaking against your ass, the heat of your cheeks making it hard to think, and the shivers crawling your spine with every graze to your sweet spots. Everything feels like a haze, your brain too clouded to think outside this moment. 

And then you sense the hand on your breast let go, slithering down to your unattended clitoris, which has your eyes shoot wide as your demon husband presses down. “—Khhff! Nooo, ‘Kunaa, you mustn’t…!”  

He lifts a brow with a grin; you dare question him? “And why shouldn’t I?” He pinches the delicate bud, resulting in a scream sneaking past your lips. “Hmm? Plead for yourself.”

“Becau—Ahhh! Mmmm, I’ll cum. I’m gonna cumm…”

“Then don’t,” Sukuna doesn’t remove his digits playing with your clit, and the hand on your chin pulls your face to look at him. “Cum without my permission, and I’ll make sure to not be so kind next time...” His words carry a warning filling your bones with apprehension, yet his soft lips greet yours and he hums into your mouth. The kiss serves as a distraction from his thick digits gently swiping on the pearl.

The rhythm of his hips, however, increases in speed and prompts more moans to be taken by Sukuna. Drool trickles down your lips, same with tears that welled up earlier from the insertion of his girth inside your ass. Your eyes roll at the jab to your silky walls, breaking the sweet yet passionate kiss to cry out as your husband’s fat balls smack your ass. 

“—Ooooo, fuuuck, I can’t,” your eyelids shield your vision, using the rest of your senses to indulge in this euphoric pleasure. “‘Kuna, I’m so close, so—Ooohh!”

“Me too…Ghhh! Shit, me too…” Sukuna presses his hot face to yours when you throw it back, licking the tears off your sweaty skin. You looked so stunning like this, all disheveled and immodest because of him. “Gonna take my load, huh?” He licks the sweat off your shoulder and bites when you don’t respond. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“—Ahhh, yes!”

That’s not enough. “I said,” he pinches your clit again as he gives slow yet rough ruts to your holes. And he can tell by your twitching that you’re doing everything in our power not to come. “Answer me.”

Holy shit, this was borderline torture. “Mmmph! OhhhLord, ‘Kunaaa, I want you to fill me up. Pleasee, pleasepleaseee, I wanna be full; wanna be all ‘round and fat with your child…!”

“Keh, dumb pet; who said I wanted a brat, huh?” He scoffs, yet you can hear the groan as he licks and sucks on your neck while squishing your hot, tear-stricken cheeks. “Fine then; go on and cum with me. So damn needy for my seed…”

Sukuna brings your chin for another steamy kiss, his lower left hand holding yours as his pelvis goes at an irregular pace. Your muffled shrills are taken by feisty lips, teeth clashing with his fangs before sucking on his tongue, and the upper left hand releases your chin to caress your chest once more, tweezing the nipple along with swipes to your clit.

Release gradually creeps up your shaky frame, crying to his mouth when your chasm and anus pucker around the lengths that graze your walls with the tips. Sukuna is not too far behind you, pumping his load into you with a few harsh plunges, making your contracting cunt and rear full of his hot and thick semen. The lower right hand propping your leg up leaves soft kneads on your inner thigh, hoisting it up further so his shafts are deep enough until his pulsing balls meet your ass.

You withdrew from his lips to breathe, your figure quivering through the aftershocks, and your slit and asshole still flutter around his girths. And you mewl when he kisses your cheek and temple.

“Mmm, that’s my princess,” he purrs while placing your leg down to massage your waist. “Such a good dove…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[doomdoomofdoom]

Kamala Harris does want "transgender surgery on illegal aliens that are in prison", btw.

So since Trumpists are getting mad enough about the jokes to actually cite their sources, I thought I'd put the source out into my left extremist commie faggot echo chamber, too.

The claim originates from an ACLU questionnaire she filled out for her 2020 presidential candidacy, specifically this section:

She wasn't given a new questionnaire for 2024, and has stated that while her policy on some things may have changed, her values had not. (This most likely means she moved more to the center to appease larger demographics and cut corners to reach compromises. The basic politician stuff.)

It boils down to this: If you're in prison, whether for "illegal" immigration or other crimes, you rely on the state to provide you with necessary amenities, like food and health care. Her argument isn't "hell yeah everyone in prison should get sex changes for free". It's "gender affirming surgery is a necessary medical procedure. If you are in the states care while this becomes necessary, the state should provide it." If you're outraged by your tax money being used on this, consider the massive amount of people being incarcerated in for-profit prisons, on your dime. Then ask yourself if maybe a prison reform might be in order.

Worth noting: In 2015, while Attorney General, Kamala Harris actually argued against providing gender-affirming surgery to an incarcerated trans woman, claiming that HRT and psychotherapy were sufficiently covering her medical needs. She has since obviously changed her stance and assumed responsibility. (I would like to take this moment to remind my fellow left extremist commie faggots that "willingness to learn and rethink your views" is infinitely more valuable than "perfect from the start and unwilling to listen to anyone")

Also found in the source: This image of Kamala Harris participating in the 2019 San Francisco Pride Parade, wearing what I believe to be a sequin rainbow embroidered denim jacket.

I encourage you to read the provided CNN article and the answers to the ACLU questionnaire, as they give great insight into her values.

TLDR: Based.

[quietingblade]

Hraesvelgr joins the battle!

Welcome to my darling! I've been without a bird muse for so long that my name doesn't hold much weight anymore, so I'm happy to be gifted a new one from FEH. A few quick portrayal notes:

Hraesvelgr is, of course, from the latest book of the Heroes story. As such, she will be updated as time goes on, and as we get more information. I'm hoping regardless of what happens, her angle remains similar enough.

Her blog and portrayal will, therefore, contain spoilers for the FEH story. These will be tagged accordingly.

Hraesvelgr is a town resident, so she has been spending the last few ic months hovering around the academy, acting as a surgeon. This means your muse might recognize her, but more in the way they'd recognize a particular monastery guard than one of their fellow knights. She's recently been invited to join the knights properly, but hasn't accepted yet.

A large part of Hraesvelgr's demeanor is based around her fear of completing her mission, and having to end her own life. If this is not something you want to hear about, for any reason, I'm happy to not mention it in any thread of ours. Just let me know!

I'll be throwing up a plotting call later today. Excited to write her!

[coco-loco-nut]

Gen Z

pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

summary: everyone seems to forget that Max is 26

a/n: not my favorite, but it’s something i’ve been working on for a while there will be no part two

requests open masterlist

—————

Breaking up with Kelly was extremely difficult for Max to do. Despite not being in love with her anymore, he was very aware of what would happen to P. Max knew it was better to break up than stay just because of P, so he bit the bullet. The next few months were lonely, having to readjust to being alone in Monaco with just his cats.

That’s when you came barreling into his life. Only two years younger than Max, you were a breath of fresh air for him. He really didn’t expect to fall for you, not so quick anyway.

You knew a bit about Formula One, but it was more to the extent that your home hosted a race, some drivers lived in the city, and your hairdresser’s son was a driver. It didn’t phase you when Max told you about his career and fame, you just thought the Dutchman was cute.

“Men who own cats are major green flags,” you told him over text when you first started dating. That might’ve been what really made Max fall for you. You made him feel young, understandably so. He was 19 when he first met Kelly, and she was 28.

Max taught you about the races, you helped him connect with his inner Gen Z. He taught you Dutch and how to game, you taught him slang and pop culture. The two of you were sitting on the couch a month before the Monaco GP, watching Cars of course, when Max asked you to join him at the race.

“Of course, anything for Lightning McQueen,” you squeeze his hand. You knew from TikTok that Charles, your boyfriend’s work husband, was Lightning McQueen, but how could that not be Max.

“Kachow,” Max says causing you to laugh. He has been watching the TikToks and reels you send him, usually something formula one or cars related.

Max is watching Cars 2 with you when he points out each driver in the movie. You store the knowledge in the back of your mind for when you watch classic races and Max explains things to you. You feel sufficiently ready for Monaco.

“Lewis, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Max introduces you to the Mercedes driver. You look at him, star stuck.

“I loved you in Cars,” you blurt out, causing Lewis to laugh and Max to hide his face in embarrassment. Max isn’t surprised, but he can’t believe this is how your first interaction is going. Lewis is just happy you aren’t with Max because he is a driver.

“Thank you, how old are you?” Lewis asks, ready to feel old.

“24, two years younger than Maxie,” you smile lovingly at your boyfriend.

“I forgot how young you actually are,” Lewis’s unspoken words hang in the air between him and Max. Now that you are dating someone closer to your own age.

Lewis’s statement seemed to be the general consensus when everyone saw you with him. Max looked and acted like he was 26. He was using slang you taught him, he was making pop culture references that he likely wouldn’t have known otherwise. He was getting to experience his twenty’s like he should have been, not as if he was much older than he was.

Lando was the most excited to meet you, not only were you his age, but you brought out Max’s inner child that Lando never could.

“I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Lando tells Max, wanting to claim you as his best friend.

“No,” Max deadpans.

“What if Lando is my bestie?” you ask Max, who can’t say no to you.

“Then I guess that’s okay,” Max kisses your temple.

“OMG, McLaren is doing another hide and seek video, you two should join,” Lando proposes.

“That actually sounds fun,” Max says, looking at you for confirmation.

“I’m in,” you smile, letting Lando lead the way.

The video is a hit, the fans are loving this version of Max. Max is loving this version of him too, for once he doesn’t feel like he has to grow up faster than he should.

“Stay away from her, she’s no good for you. Act like a grown up,” you overhear Jos tell Max as you come back to the garage from hospitality. You have yet to meet Jos, Max made it very clear that he doesn’t want you near his dad. The memes the two of you send back and forth are a good enough reason why, so you hang back.

“What do you mean? I am. I’m 26, why should I act like I’m 40? I am happier with her than I was with Kelly,” Max argues back, you hold yourself back.

“World Champions are serious, mature. Quit acting like Lando Norris and more like an adult,” Jos is seething.

“Ask Max to come back here, say the team needs him or something,” you as an engineer when you notice Jos getting angrier.

“Then why am I leading by a heavy margin already. You just can’t handle that I am putting myself first. What would you even know about being a champion? You never won a race!” Max yells. The engineer quickly cuts in and leads Max to you.

“You gagged him, baby. Are you okay?” Max hugs you, you just rub his back as he regulates his breathing.

“He’s an opp, for real,” Max mutters into your shoulder, causing you to snort with laughter.

“God, I love you,” you can’t contain the laughter. Max joins in, your smile is infectious.

“I did use it right, no?” Max asks between the laughter.

“You did, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you take a deep breath, calming down.

“No cap?”

“Alright, you are using too much. Where is old man Max, this is freaky,” you take a step back, the smile that remains on your face betrays your words.

“You got me into my gen z era, you get the consequences,” Max pulls you back into him as you groan in annoyance.

“I love you too,” he laughs, peppering your face with kisses.

And when a journalist is brave enough to ask about the shift in Max? He’s always eager to talk about you.

“My girlfriend forced me to watch hours of YouTube compilations about formula one memes. We are always sending different memes to each other, she definitely helps me remember to laugh more,” Max gushes.

“I guess we all forget that you aren’t nearly forty,” the journalist nods. Max answers a few more questions before finding you in his drivers room. He lays down on the couch, his head on your lap.

“What’s on your mind?” you run your hand through Max’s hair.

“Have I changed that much?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you.

“I don’t think so, I think you’ve just started being yourself around more people. You are still the same Max that I first met and fell in love with, everyone else is just seeing that Max,” you are confused about the question, but answer him. Max doesn’t reply, he just nuzzles closer to you.

“I like this version of me,” he says into your shirt a few minutes later, you keep playing with his hair.

“I’m glad, but I like every version of you, Max. Even old man Max,” you smile as he sits up.

“Old man? How about I show you how far from true that is,” there is a look in his eye that tells you that you just started something.

“And how will you do that?” you decide to entertain him as he slips his hands under your shirt.

“I don’t think I need to tell you.”