#unfortunately for all of you this is not the last 'i will give you an entire plot line' ask on my inbox

[surreal-duck]

master artist and his number one fan

guy who is being so normal about the new additions to their profiles. i think abt midoris initial infatuation with his art slowly developing into appreciating yuzuru himself as a person and idol to the point he worries about how he sees him (ex: a bit of home party and in workplace survival rules) sometimes thats a lie i think about it a lot. and yuzuru learning to enjoy art just for the sake of drawing!! seeing the lets try diy story where he doesnt even refute drawing on midoris desk and was only worried that his doodles might cover up the mascot design compared to how discouraged he usually would be in earlier ! stories. everything to me i adore their dynamic if that wasnt obvious by *gestures to basically everything*

and happy pride month 🏳‍🌈

[saeist]

a/n: alternate universe where touya didn't go insane and goes to UA :] dedicated to the loml @saerins cus we're on our touya brainrot + went a little insane with this instead...

"jesus doll, excited now are we?" touya muses, a smirk on his lips as he lets you push him inside your small and cramped bathroom.

rolling your eyes, you motioned him to sit down on the toilet lid while you prepare the shower. making sure the water is just the right temperature or else you might burn touya's head off when you rinse the hairdye off his hair

"is this the part where you remove your shirt and i suck on a titty?" touya says more of a statement rather than a cheeky question. you stop yourself from hitting the boy that has his signature lopsided smirk with the shower head you were currently holding

with an exasperated sigh and a pinch to your nose bridge, you answer him

"just shut up for once, touya. besides, won't your dad kill you if he found out you're dying your hair black? or did you forget that he almost kicked you out of the house when he saw your piercings for the first time?" you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend who decided at the last minute to dye his hair as a sign of "rebellion against his "uptight, stick far up his ass dad" his words, not yours

"he can manage" touya huffs, scoffing at the memory of his dad yelling at him for acting and starting to look like a good for nothing delinquent or in endeavour's words, a villain. "it's not like it's my duty to keep our image of a "perfect family". if only the rest of the world knew what its like to have endeavor as your deadbeat dad!"

touya and endeavour never really got a long per say.. at least that's what touya tells you whenever he had a shit day training with endeavor. days where he would train with his dad were usually days where he'd opt to spend the night at your dorm. away from all the chaos inside the todoroki estate that he unfortunately refers to as his home

but to touya, at the end of the day, you are his home. his peace, his serenity, his anchor in this world where hell could break loose at any given moment

"don't give me that look, doll" touya sighs, shoulders dropping when he noticed you were staring at him.

"i just don't want to see you hurt all over again. you almost gave me a heart attack that one time when you showed up here unannounced" you pout, letting touya slowly wrap his arms around your waist.

touya’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “i can handle the old man. it’s his problem if he can’t accept me for who i am,” he mutters, resting his forehead against your stomach

"i mean, he already stopped giving a shit when he realized i can't withstand my flames, so who am i to give a shit back after everything he did to me?" touya continues, his grip tightening

you run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the warmth of his presence. “shhh, we already talked about this" you shush him, "all i'm saying is that i just want you to be safe, touya. i can’t stand seeing you hurt,” you whisper, your voice tinged with worry.

he looks up at you, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, sincere expression. “i know, doll. i know." touya presses light kisses on your stomach, "but I have to be true to myself, even if it means pissing off endeavor” he chuckles, the pads of his thumb rubbing circles on your exposed skin

you both stay in that position in silence for a bit. just finding comfort with each other's presence. just the way touya likes it. nice and quiet. a contrast to his daily hellish life back at his own home

that is until touya starts to feel his scalp burn a little

"okay fun time's over, doll. my scalp's startin' to kill me here" touya shudders, slowly unwrapping his arms around you as he reaches for the shower head in your hand.

you stifle in your laughter watching him make a fuss inside your cramped bathroom.

that is until, you remembered that your bathroom tiles were pearly white and if he's rinsing off black hairdye then–

"TOUYA MY TILES!" you let out a screech

"too late, doll" touya pokes his tongue out at you, hair dye getting all over your walls and cold tiles.

you were gonna pay one hefty fine if you don't clean this shit up as soon as possible.

now, touya sits on your bed. drying his freshly dyed jet black hair with a towel and you're not even gonna lie to yourself. he looked a little too good for your liking. touya has always been a looker himself but with this new hairdo.. oh lord

"why are you looking at me like you want to eat me?" touya chuckles, hanging the now stained towel around his neck as he leans back on your bed with his elbows propped. he was giving you bedroom eyes, quite literally and figuratively.

what a tease!

"nothing. just making sure that i'm still talking to touya and not his emo alter ego dabi" you mused, plopping down on your bed next to him.

touya laughs at your comment. eyes turning into crescent moons

“thanks for everything, y/n,” touya says softly, voice full of genuine love and appreciation.

your heart swells at the sight of touya like this. you would move mountains if you could just to see touya– your touya happy.

"i love you, touya" you lean in for a kiss. to which touya happily returns the favor.

"i love you more than life, doll." touya smiles lazily against the kiss, cranking his neck to the side for more access as he deepens the kiss.

moments like these with you is when touya feels like he's on top of the world and he hopes it will forever stay like this cause to touya, he can face anything the world throws at him when he knows you'll be there right by his side

[cerisereids]

𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀, 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲- 𝘀.𝗿.

wc- ~2k

pairing- young dad!spencer reid x fem!mom!reader

summary- baby diana can’t bring her stuffie into day care with her, so spencer promises to take good care of it at work. the bau jumps at the opportunity to help, even if they weren’t technically asked.

warnings- sfw, whoooole lots of fluff, analyst!bau!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, spencer and reader are married, the baby girl is 3!, spencer is in his s4 era, s and r show pda at work, set in modern times

a/n- based on this tik tok! dividers from @reveriesources and @saradika-graphics!!

diana reid’s monstrous wails pierce through the air, ringing through spencer’s head like a gong. she has a death grip on her favorite toy, lamby, and won’t go into daycare unless the stuffed lamb goes with her. spencer rubs at his temples, desperately searching his expansive mind for an idea, any idea, that will alleviate his daughter’s heartache.

“honey, i’m so sorry,” he coos, desperate to calm the toddler’s screeching, “you can’t bring lamby to day care, i’m sorry sweetie,” he frowns, each scream like a shot to the heart. he brings his thumb to wipe her red, tear stained, chubby cheeks, smoothing his finger over the soft skin. she settles into his touch slightly, a sweet sigh escaping her lips, just before they downtick into another pout.

“no!” she wails, holding the lamb tighter to her chest, “no! lamby!” she exclaims, and he curses himself for passing along his theatrics to his baby girl. his eyes fall shut and he reaches inward for his last semblance of patience, taking a big inhale. a sigh falls from his lips on the exhale, and that’s when it hits him. lamby is her baby, he’d be just as upset if, god forbid, he didn’t know where his baby was all day.

“listen, honey,” he states, ready to strike a deal, “if you give lamby to daddy, he can take her to work!” her big, brown eyes soften at this, and his mirror hers exactly, “yeah! i’ll take good care of her, hm? i promise,” he rubs her little belly with both hands, which has made her giggle every time since she could walk. this time proves to be no different, a tiny little giggle breaking through her blubbers.

relief floods his chest like sunlight pouring through a window, “i promise, okay baby?” he holds out his hands, brow stern but eyes soft, “but you gotta give lamby to me now, okay? then you can go inside and see miss sarah,” he bribes her with the mention of her favorite daycare teacher, and her sad eyes light up at her name. her chubby hands place lamby in spencer’s, but not before she gives her a goodbye kiss. he’s next, of course, his long arms capturing her tiny frame in a protective hug against his chest, “love you, sweet girl,” he murmurs against her temple.

“love you, daddy!” she exclaims over her shoulder as she takes off in a blast, little feet pattering up the porch steps to miss sarah like she wasn’t just crying her eyes out mere seconds ago.

spencer’s late to work by 23 minutes and 14 seconds. he’d texted his wife, informing her of his unfortunate timing, before taking off in the beamer she’d gotten him for his birthday. it was a ridiculous, congratulatory gift for the new skill he’d adopted in fatherhood. his wife had been in the office early that morning with penelope, finalizing analytical details on the case they just wrapped up. therefore, she quirks a brow at the familiar plushie when she , now in his own vice grip. he rhythmically inhales and exhales, his eyes falling shut as he leans over to rest two closed fists on his desk, head hanging low.

he perks up when he feels a loving hand caress the small of his back, the smell of coffee wafting up his nose, “got you your favorite,” his sweet wife whispers in his ear, pecking him on his flushed cheek after.

she nearly hangs on him, both her hands piled on one shoulder as she drapes herself along his side. her sweet floral scent intoxicates him, the same way it did the first day they met, blissfully overtaking his senses.

he marvels at how she can still manage to understand his wild mind, after all these years, she still knows exactly what he needs, when he needs it. he’s not sure anyone’s ever understood him so deeply, so purely. he can only hope his love makes up for a fraction of hers, the sweetest privilege granted to him in this life.

he takes a big sip, notes of cinnamon and vanilla washing over his tongue, the heat tickling his throat, “thank you,” he whispers, leaning in to peck her gently on the lips.

“whatchya got there, loverboy?” derek teases him, ruffling his hair as he nods towards lamby, now sat upright at his computer.

he can see his wife shift in curiosity out of his peripheral, so he moves his coffee to his left hand, snaking his right around her waist, pulling her in to kiss her temple before he begins.

“well, this is lamby,” he gestures to the stuffed toy with his coffee cup right as emily and jj enter the bullpen, “the poor baby girl couldn’t bring her into daycare today, and she was crushed, just absolutely wailing. she wouldn’t leave her with me unless i promised to take good care of her at work,” he lifted his brow in the most serious manner, a small smirk aimed at his soft smiling wife.

“aww, poor baby,” she frowns, and he kisses it off, quick but loving all the same.

“no way…and you actually did it?” derek chuckles in disbelief.

“of course i did! i wasn’t gonna lie to my child!” spencer insists earnestly, spurring on derek’s teasing even further.

emily laughs with him, but jj shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest, “laugh all you want, i’d do the same thing,” she nods towards him, and he thanks her for her vindication.

the sweet chime of his wife’s laughter rings in his ear, and a smile spreads across his lips. she kisses it off this time.

“shoo, lovebirds!” rossi exclaims, and the flapping of paper pulls spencer’s lips away from hers, “it’s catch up day, and you both have reports that were expected on hotch’s desk weeks ago. let’s go!” he lightly taps a manila file on spencer’s desk, effectively cutting through his wife-induced haze. his gaze flits to hotch’s office momentarily, hotch sporting a knowing smile as he completed his own paperwork, “reports…” rossi points at spencer with a raised brow before returning back to his office.

lamby ends up spending her whole day with spencer. she accompanies him to the coffee machine, to the filing cabinets, to the conference room for meetings. he documents all of this, of course, snapping pictures with his phone of the little lamb ‘holding’ a coffee mug or a file.

throughout the day, his coworkers become more and more integrated in these photographs. it starts with derek posing with her at his desk. in one of them, derek’s fingers pinch the tiny front legs and use them to type on his computer. another shows him and lamby hunched over a case file, a pensive look on derek’s face.

it graduates to emily and jj taking her to the filing cabinets, spencer snapping shots of the girls holding lamby, blowing kisses to sweet diana, and helping lamby put files away. she ends up in the conference room because of penelope, who snatched her from rossi, who was in the middle of doing his crossword with her.

hotch even joins in at that point, setting lamby up on his laptop, working with her to finish a report of his own. spencer can’t remember the last time he spent the entire work day laughing, but leave it to diana reid to work a miracle. he spends the entire day reveling in the love of his wife, the care from his team. hotch lets both of them go home together early, and they link pinkies the entire way down to the parking garage, parting ways at their cars.

spencer holds on to her hand as she goes to walk away, spinning her back to him. his free hand grips her waist as she collides into his chest, his lips crashing down onto hers. they’re soft and glossy, and they move against his like a dream. her nails scrape the nape of his neck and he shudders, deepening the kiss before pulling away just as fast.

“i’ll see you at home,” he breathes, desperately heaving to catch his breath. her smile warms his soul like the sun.

you pull up in your driveway just behind spencer, the porch light of your virginian townhome aglow. your parents helped you and spencer relocate when you’d unexpectedly gotten pregnant 3 years ago, lucking out in a suburb close to quantico, one with great schools, parks, and libraries. it seems like just yesterday you and spencer were deciding that those three aspects were essential in choosing where to start your family.

you grin at him as he exits his car, hair shaggy, eyes tired, smile bright. you extend your hand to him, walking through the threshold together. the second you enter, the patter of little feet carries from down the hall, getting louder with each step.

“sweet diana!” you exclaim as she runs into your arms, a sweet ‘mommy!’ tumbling from her lips as you scoop her up.

“i heard you had a rough morning, sweet girl!” you say, rubbing her tummy with your palm. she just shrugs, plopping her thumb between her lips and staring at you with wide eyes.

“i miss lamby,” she murmurs around her thumb, but before she can get too sad, spencer’s there to save the day, as always.

you gasp as spencer squats next to you, nuzzling the stuffed toy into her belly, “who is it?!” you ask as if you’d seen the queen, jaw hanging open as you watch your baby girl’s eyes light up.

“it’s lamby!!” she exclaims, yanking it from her dad’s hands. she hugs it tight against her chest as if it were her own baby, and a wave of deja vu washes over you. watching her is like looking in a mirror of your past, blended together in creation of this beautiful being.

“daddy took such good care of lamby for you today, sweet girl,” you coo, rubbing your hand gently up and down her back, “we all had so much fun with her today at work, do you want to see some pictures?” she nods enthusiastically at this, and her and spencer make their way over to the couch.

you join them after you walked your mom out, thanking and hugging her for picking up diana at daycare. you and spencer settle in on either side of baby diana, arms looped around each other as your daughter snuggles between you. spencer pulls out his phone and scrolls to the first photo of the day, lamby with his mug by the coffee pot.

“lamby! you’re so silly!” she throws her head back in a cackle, “lamby drink coffee!” she squeals, throwing her chubby hands up over her face in hysterics. it’s infectious, you and spencer shaking with laughter around her.

“lamby wif uncle derek!” she shrieks when she sees the (many) photos of derek with the toy, snuggling it, feeding it, working with it. she loves them all, of course.

her favorites are the ones with emily, jj, and penelope. she loves her aunties so much, she was not expecting a crossover of her favorite people with her beloved toy. her eyes go wide at the ones of lamby in the conference room, “lamby working!” she exclaims, pointing a little finger at spencer’s phone, “wif uncle hotch!” her eyes go wide at the photo of lamby on aaron’s work laptop, working very hard to help him solve the case.

aaron became uncle hotch out of her sheer desperation to be just like mommy and daddy, who answer all their work calls from him with a succinct, “hotch?” she slowly begun parroting you, until uncle aaron was no more. she struggles just slightly with the double h, so it always comes out ‘uncle ‘otch!’ it makes you and spencer laugh every time.

you do so now, locking soft eyes with your husband as you giggle. adoration seeps through you, every inch of your skin warm.

“yeah!” spencer responds, kissing her temple with a pronounced ‘mwah’, “lamby worked so hard today, sweet baby, she helped us solve lots of cases!” he coos, and your heart melts at the sight.

you chuckle in disbelief, unaware of exactly how you got this lucky. you wish to burn this moment into your brain forever- the warmth of spencer’s arms around you as you cuddle your baby girl, the soft strawberry scent of her shampoo mixed with spencer’s woodsy aftershave, his soft voice as he coos to the young girl that he kept her promise, of course he did. you allow your eyes to fall shut for a brief moment, soaking in the love you’ve been so generously afforded.

[satorisoup]

NEED A HAND .ᐣ

ft. kuroo tetsuro

cw : mechanic!kuroo. fluff. petnames ( sweetheart, girl ).

wc : 1096

of course. of course your car decides fizzle out into broken sounds of rusty engines when you’re on your way to an extremely important interview. oh, but that’s just your luck.

it was inevitable, really. you should’ve known that your car would give out on you as soon as you heard its slight struggle to turn on this morning, a faint clicking noise when you had put the key in the ignition.

dressed to impress in your recently ironed button up and steamed slacks, you fret to bang your head on the steering wheel at the smell of old car oil. the summer heat was not doing you favors when you stepped out to take a look, beaming down on you in a heated mockery. you can practically see your new job opportunity flash away before your eyes as you notice the steam that rises from the hood of your car, cursing to yourself under your breath as you dial up the number of what could’ve been your new boss.

“ need a hand ? ”

there’s a pause in your actions as you turn to the source of the rhetorical question, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see a rather handsome man who stands in front of his car door.

“ if you could manage to salvage my interview instead, i’d take all the help i could get ”

the man chuckles at your disheartened words, walking toward your car with a tool box in hand.

“ unfortunately im just a mechanic, so i can’t help you with that. but hey, duty calls right ? ”

you honestly couldn’t tell whether to call this situation lucky or unlucky. your car broke down, but a mechanic who just so happens to have a daringly attractive face stops to help you. could you complain ?

you admire the man who pops your hood open, tight fitted t-shirt and lazily strewn overalls that fall over his workboots in a denim curtain. his hair is a shiny black, hanging over his eyes as his forehead sheens with a dull sweat from the hot sun.

he inspects your car with his calloused hands that over time dirty up from the oilish debris, pulling and twisting at the foreign car parts with vein popped arms. you’re staring, and maybe it’s the heat outside that’s making you crazy, but this man had to be an angel sent from heaven with how incredibly beautiful he looked, even while wearing dirtied up overalls.

“ hey, girl. might just be my head talking, but it looks like you haven’t gotten your oil changed since the stone age. ”

he pulls the dipstick out to show you, and it indeed was incredibly low and colored with a tarish black. that’s when you realize that you in fact dont even remember the last time you had been to the shop to keep your car in check. how embarrassing.

“ i hate to say your assumption is probably right… that’s so humiliating ! i’ve been so busy trying to find a job and getting my life back on track i didn’t even think to have it checked. im so sorry ! ” you ramble in embarrassment, face feeling hot in your hands at the discovery that you might just be a complete idiot.

“ no need to get so worked up, sweetheart. luckily, you ran into a mechanic. sit tight. ”

you watch as he steps aside to his car, retrieving a jug of what seems to be car oil and a bucket.

the man slips under your car, working what you believe in your heart is mechanical magic, pacing around as you realize the clock as already struck 11:45, you missed your interview. you feel as though you’re in a disney movie, playing as cinderella with your carriage falling apart before you make it to the ball.

the man scooches his way out from under your car to pop open the lid of a brand new oil jug, pouring it down into the oil pan, and you realize that throughout your series of unfortunate events, you’ve barely said a word to this kind stranger.

“ i forgot to ask, what’s your name ? ”

his head cocks to the side as he continues to pour the jug, strokes of motor oil smudged onto his cheekbone and staining his clothes.

“ tetsuro, kuroo. or, you could just call me your life saving mechanic, because your car’s all fixed. ”

your face lightens up when he tells you the good news, which is something you never thought you’d hear on such a disaster of a day like this one. he turns on your car for a final check, no annoying clicking noises along with the smoothest sounding start up you think you’d ever heard.

“ thank you ! oh god, thank you so much ! you don’t understand the day i’ve had, you seriously just saved me. ”

“ happy to help a damsel in distress. but, maybe change your oil more often, yeah ? your car might explode next time. ”

your face drops in fear at the thought of your car catching on fire due to your scatter brain, and kuroo laughs at the worry written on your features.

“ i’m joking, don’t worry your pretty little head. sorry i couldn’t get you to your interview, though.”

relief washes over you as he confirms your car wouldn’t explode, and you move yourself to give an appreciative bow to kuroo.

“ thank you so much again. please, how can i repay you ? i dont know if i have cash on me… ”

kuroo’s hand raises as he waves in dismissal, a sly, handsome grin covering his muddied face.

“ no need to repay me. it’s my pleasure to help a sweet girl like you, it’s my job after all. ”

“ thank you… but i insist ! it’s so hot out, and you got all dirty just because i decided to be forgetful. ”

kuroo thinks for a moment, but in his mind he didn’t even have to reflect on it. he knew what he wanted to ask since the moment he stepped out of his vehicle to find you on the verge of tears by the side of the road.

“ well, if you insist… i wouldn’t mind a date with you. is that negotiable, sweetheart ? ”

you may feel like cinderella, but at the end of the day, you managed to score a hot date with the mechanic prince.

oh, but that’s just your luck.

[berry-potchy]

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel part 2

Summary: Your dad shows up unannounced, interrupting your romantic dinner with Miguel. He plants seeds of doubt in your pretty little head that Miguel is more than happy to snip off

Tags: DBF!Miguel x F!Reader, age gap, college age reader, P in V sex, size difference (smaller reader), brief under the table footjob, spanking, insecurities, vague mention of Miguel’s past relationships, uncomfortable relationship talk with your dad who means well but ends up making you feel like shit anyway

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Surprise! The second part actually exists. It’s been almost a year since part one and I kept teasing part 2 but I couldn’t think of a way to end it. I considered just abruptly cutting it off and post it but I just couldn’t do it. BUT HERE IT IS NOW. Hope you guys still enjoy it!

Part 1

It has been a week since Miguel has caught you masturbating to the thought of him. A week since you found out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. A week of absolute depravity that you thought only happened in porn. He fucked you all over the house; no room, furniture, or surface was left untouched during your vigorous lovemaking.

Unfortunately, his “sick leave” had to come to an end and so did your self-imposed break from uni. He’s going back to work the next day so you decided you were going to do something special and make the most of the last evening of his leave. Of course, there’ll be more times to fuck but you feel the need to give him something special before he goes back to his workaholic mode. Maybe it’ll encourage him to start coming home earlier.

You had everything planned. You and Miguel had a lovely early dinner that he helped you prepare. The way it was so easy to fall into a domestic routine made your heart flutter. You’d have to ask him if you can do this with him more often when he’s not so busy with work. You also had wine that Miguel picked out for both of you. You trusted his mature tastes even though you knew he preferred hard liquor. And for dessert, well…

“That’s it, gatita,” Miguel grunted in your ear, a deep growl rumbles from his chest as he rams his fat cock relentlessly into your greedy cunt. “Taking my cock so well. I’m gonna miss this when I’m at work tomorrow. Gonna think about your tight little pussy while I’m in a boring meeting.”

You can’t form any coherent words from how aggressive his thrusts were. Each thrust drove his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs and the words out of your little cock drunk brain. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your arms holding his broad shoulders for support, hands desperately clawing at his back. You clung to him tightly as he fucked you standing up in the middle of the kitchen. He took full control of your body, his large hands on your waist, moving you up and down his cock as he pleased, like you’re his personal living cocksleeve.

“My little slut can’t even talk anymore,” he laughs at your pathetic whimpers and whines “Taking my cock like a good girl. Going to make sure you feel it until tomorrow.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck panting, mumbling “please” over and over again against his skin. Your tits are pressed against him, sensitive nipples rubbing against the dusting of dark hair on his chest with every movement. The burning knot in your stomach is threatening to come undone.

“You’re gonna cum for me, princesa?” he said as his thrusts grow frantic. “Wanna feel your pussy milk my cock dry. She’s so greedy for my cum. Sucking me in so good I can’t even try to pull out.”

You arch your back as you feel your orgasm rip through you, making you see white for a second. Miguel catches you, an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders to keep you from falling over as he keeps on rutting into you to chase after his own climax. He pulls you closer to him to capture your mouth into a kiss as you feel his hot cum coat your velvety walls. You moan against his lips, giving his tongue access to your mouth, making you melt in his arms.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He coos at how absolutely wrecked you looked, the pretty makeup you did for him all smeared and messed up. The red of your lipstick is no longer on your lips but all over Miguel – on his lips, cheeks, neck, chest, trailing all the way down to the red ring near the base of his cock.

Miguel sets you down on the dining table, hands keeping your knees apart to watch his cum dripping out of your sloppy hole. Your hands grab your breasts, squeezing them together for his viewing pleasure. Miguel moans at the sight. You are so perfect to him.

“I’m going to see your dad again in the office tomorrow,” he says, kneeling in front of your spread legs, ready to eat his dessert. He licks his lips and rubs his large hands up and down your thighs “I’m sure he’s going to have questions. I’ll make sure to tell him how good you were, taking care of me and making me feel so much better.”

He was about to dive in when the doorbell rang. You hear him growl a string of Spanish curse words under his breath as he reluctantly stands up from where he was kneeling. He tries to calm down and you sit up to wipe the sweat and lipstick off his face. You help him put on his shirt, straightening it out as much as you can with your hands as he tucks away his half-hard cock in his sweatpants. You brush his messy hair back away from his forehead, trying to make him look presentable for when he answers the door.

“I’ll be quick,” he sighs, kissing you on your temple as he pulls away and walks out the room. You can’t help but be a little curious as to who is looking for Miguel this late in the evening. You try to stand up, snatching the silk robe you were wearing earlier to peek at the visitor when you hear an all too familiar voice echo in the halls.

“Miguel! You look like shit!” The loud booming voice of your father makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over?” Miguel said, trying to act normal as you hear him letting your dad in. “You should’ve called.”

“Well I did try to but neither you nor my daughter were answering,” he said “Anyway where is she? I brought you guys your favorites for dinner. I’ll even set up the dinner table for you.”

That got you to snap back to reality. Shit, shit, shit!

You start running to your room, careful not to leave a trail of Miguel’s cum on the floor. You try to wash off any traces of sex with a quick shower and change into a simple shirt and unfortunately with a bra and shorts on this time. Can’t have your dad know you parade around the house half-naked for a man twice your age.

Downstairs, Miguel’s boner is fully killed. He didn’t even get to clean you up with his tongue. Shame. Your dad is talking about work stuff but he’s only half-listening. He helps him set the table for your second dinner of the evening, not able to turn down his best friend lest he gets suspicious. He eyes a few white drops on the table and reluctantly wipes it with the hem of his shirt. His eyes meet yours as you enter the room, drying your hair with a towel. You give him a tight-lipped smile before going in to greet your dad.

You have an okay dinner together: Your dad did most of the talking, which is usually what happens between him and Miguel anyway. He also is still under the impression that Miguel was actually sick so he got a pass. You however have to pretend you aren’t annoyed that the night you planned is ruined as you answer his questions about uni.

“No boys? Partners? I told Miguel not to let you bring any around,” he says smugly to which Miguel smirks, taking a sip of the whisky your dad brought over.

“Dad, please,” you groan, sliding down on your chair, which makes him laugh out loud. You steal a glance at Miguel, pouting, and he’s laughing along. Traitor.

“I just wanted to be sure my baby’s focusing on her studies,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender before adding “and that I don’t end up a grandpa too soon.”

They keep laughing but thankfully, Miguel changes the topic. You give him a look of relief and rub your foot on his leg as a silent thank you. He keeps talking to your dad, pretending not to feel your foot stray further up until it rests on his inner thigh, the tip of your toe toying with the outline of his cock. He grabs your ankle but doesn’t stop you. He instead moves to sit a little closer to the table so you can rub the sole of your foot against his clothed length.

You’re playing a dangerous game. Your dad is right there he could look under the table and find his precious daughter giving his best friend a footjob in front of the dinner and alcohol he so graciously brought over. But you were feeling petty about your ruined plans and Miguel doesn’t seem to mind the attention to his cock.

You bite your lip, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He must feel sticky and uncomfortable under his sweatpants after not being able to wipe his dick of your combined fluids when your dad barged in. You wish your dad decides to leave early so you could get on your knees for Miguel and lick him clean.

Miguel eventually excuses himself, coughing that he needs to go to the bathroom, probably to jerk off and shower. You start clearing up the table and your dad offers to help.

“So,” he starts wiping the table “I see the way you look at Miguel.”

You freeze, trying not to drop the stack of plates you’re holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You start loading the dishwasher, trying not to make it obvious that your hands are shaking.

“Hey, no need to get defensive. I know what I saw,” he says “And I mean, you’re a young single lady and Miguel is this handsome, cool, older guy that’s a constant in your day-to-day. It’s not wild to have a crush on him. I’m just…”

Silence.

“Sweetie, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt when he doesn’t return your feelings,” he sighs as he leans his hip on the counter next to you. He’s trying to look you in the eyes, trying to let you know that he’s being sincere. “Believe me that man has no time for romance. He’s all busy with his work. Plus I’ve seen the women he slept with before. All supermodel looking and yet… well they never last long.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, dad,” you roll your eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the feeling of wanting to throw up. You don’t want to think about that. About the specifics of what you and Miguel have going on. You’re just trying to enjoy Miguel’s attention right now. For the longest time, you didn’t even think you had the chance. Is it really that bad to just accept what he’s willing to give right now?

“I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, honey! Of course, you’re beautiful! You’re my daughter,” he tries to lighten the mood but turns serious when you don’t laugh. “Just might not be his type. Besides, he’s twice your age. He's too close to your old man’s age. Are you sure that’s something you’d like? In a few years, he’d be just as uncool as me while you’re still young and should be enjoying your life.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. You both stay silent for a few moments. You think about Miguel and try to look for signs. Signs that say he just wants sex or that he wants something more. All you can think about is how sweet he always was with you even before you had sex. Even more now. You blush remembering how Miguel peppered your face with kisses this morning to wake you up because he wanted to cook breakfast but didn’t want to leave you in bed.

“Okay, but what if he does?” you countered, suddenly gaining a bit of confidence. “Would you be okay with that? If we get into a relationship?”

A painful few seconds of silence that felt like forever.

“I know that look in your eyes,” he finally says, shaking his head, and sighing. “It’s your “I’m going to get what I want” look you got from your mom. You’re gonna get hurt.”

You cross your arms and pout, never one to back down.

“And if he does end up liking you,” he starts again and you side-eye him “well… good thing he doesn't.”

You groan as your dad messes up your hair, laughing as he sees Miguel come back, fresh from his shower. Your dad finally decides it’s time to head out and let the sick man rest. He gives you a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.

You’re left alone with Miguel again in the kitchen. The earlier conversation with your dad soured your mood and left you zoning out. Miguel slips himself between your parted legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, large, warm hands kneading your thighs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.

“What’s on your mind, princesa?” He leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me.”

You try to turn away but he brings a curled finger under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed, worried. You try to look at him and your heart stutters. You don’t want whatever you have with him to end. You’re not sure if you actually want something serious with Miguel but the thought of just being a bedwarmer to Miguel is upsetting.

“Just thinking,” you start, trying to get the words out without sounding jealous or spiteful “My dad said you used to date? Sleep around with? Whatever. The girls you were with before were all… supermodel looking. They’re probably tall and skinny and drop-dead gorgeous huh? Is that your type?”

“And where is this going, nena?” Miguel whispers, pulling away and giving you a stern look.

“Well, I’m just not like that?” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips and shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know why you gave me the chance. I’m just-”

Miguel’s gentle touch on your chin turns into him gripping your cheeks, making you shut up. You nervously look at him, a deep frown on his face.

“Don’t you ever put yourself down, cariño,” he says, his eyes sharp. He makes you keep your eyes on him while he uses his other hand to pull you closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You know, at the start, I offered to let you stay here just because I wanted to mentor you when I had the time. I know you’re a brilliant girl, so intelligent, following in your dad’s footsteps. What I didn’t expect is for you to consume my thoughts day and night for the past few months. You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady, cariño. You are such a temptation, making me think about your pretty eyes looking up so innocently at me. Those lips tempt me every single time you pout at me to get your way.”

He growls, finally letting go of your face to move his hands to your ass. He suddenly bucks his hips against yours making you gasp out loud, your clothed cunt rubbing against his growing bulge. You try to move your hips to gain friction on your throbbing cunt but he keeps you still.

“Don’t even get me started on this body of yours,” he buries his face at the crook of your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the sensitive flesh making your head roll to the side to give him more access “So perfect for me. Made for me to grab, to fuck, to worship. Dios mio, nena, I can’t get enough of you.”

He sounds drunk from your scent and taste, mouthing at your neck, hands kneading your flesh. He grabs handfuls of the soft fat of your thighs, your ass, your tummy rolls, your plump tits, and back down, committing each curve to memory. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure when he laps at your pulse with his skillful tongue.

“So I don’t wanna hear any of that nonsense comparing yourself to women I didn’t care about then and I sure don’t care about now,” he growls as he picks you up and flips you around. He bends you over the counter, stomach against the cold marble top and the rounded edges digging at the tops of your thighs. Your feet can’t quite reach the floor so you settle for trying to wrap your legs around Miguel’s own. He yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one aggressive motion.

“My silly beautiful girl getting jealous over old flings and exes,” he hummed, his large hands massaging your ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs. “They’re not here anymore, are they? Didn’t work out with them and they’re not in my life anymore. And I prefer it that way.”

You feel him spit on your hole, dripping down to mix with your own wetness. You drop your head onto the countertop, the heated skin on your face making the marble feel icy. He takes your wrists, securing your hands behind your back with his own large hand while his other still massages your ass. Your eyes flutter, enjoying the sensation when you hear a loud smack cut through the momentary silence.

“Mig-” you yelp as you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek. His hand goes back to massaging, trying to soothe your reddened skin. You whine as he gives your other cheek the same treatment. Two matching red handprints bloom on both your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be listening to your dad about my type when I was much younger,” he says, his voice low and serious as he leans down to press his sculpted chest on your back “Because right now there’s nothing I want more than this pequeña prinscesa whose toes can't even reach the floor when I bend her over the kitchen counter. You love that too don't you? How I’m much bigger than you? How easily I can carry you around, bend you over, and fuck you whenever I want? Love folding you in half and using your pretty pussy- no, my pretty pussy. This is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Isn’t that right?

You nod enthusiastically not trusting your voice to speak. the words he growls at your ear going straight to your cunt. You feel another hard smack go down your ass, the impact making you slide a bit on the counter. His hands pull you back by the waist to press his erection against your dripping cunt, your wetness soaking through his sweatpants.

“Use your words when you answer me, nena,” he growls, grinding himself against your folds. The friction from the fabric of his sweatpants feels heavenly against your puffy folds.

“Yessss,” you whine, pushing your ass back against him “all yours. Need you to fuck this pussy please, please, please!”

“How can I say no when my baby girl is begging so nicely?” he coos, pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock. He takes it in his hand and presses the tip in. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your velvety walls welcome him back, still stretched out from your earlier activities.

“Perfect,” Miguel groans as he wastes no time to fuck into your slutty little hole that’s sucking him in so lewdly. “Made for me. Mi princesa needs to learn that no one can compare to her. She’s so perfect. And she’s mine. Only mine. And I am hers.”

“Yo-urs– M-ah, Miguel,” you whimper as he keeps hitting all the right places, his tip hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust until you’re once again pushed over the edge of sweet release. Your gummy walls contract, milking Miguel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. He follows shortly after with a deep moan, his cock coating your insides with his warm seed.

Miguel makes no move to pull out. Instead he peppers your shoulders and neck with kisses, humming in contentment, whispering sweet endearments. Your heart fills with warmth and before you could even think about it, the words just leave your mouth.

“I love you, Miguel”

Silence. Anxiety starts to bubble in your chest as you start to think that you’ve read all the signs wrong. But before you could take it back, Miguel turns you to lie on your back, facing him. He leans down to capture your lips in his, his hands pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d leave if he lets go. He mumbles “I love you” against your lips over and over again for the rest of the night making sure you never doubt his feelings for you ever again.

[jnnul]

peaches

sum.: when you pie your [really-hot] neighbor in the face on accident, you never imagine that you’re gonna have to be wheeling him to the hospital because who the fuck is allergic to peaches? yang jungwon, apparently. but you come to learn that yang jungwon is so much more than his unfortunate allergy to peaches and his pretty face and you’re stuck wondering if falling in love with someone you can’t have is worth it.

word count: 2.9k

tags: this one’s sad bois, bullet fic, like ngl, when i was planning this one, i teared up a little bit, sorry in advance tw: major character death, terminal illness, just...not meant for the weak-hearted

a/n: literally all i can say i’m sorry :( can’t believe my first fic for jungwon is this sad nonsense i conjured up literally last year

you didn’t mean to pie your extremely attractive neighbor in the face

and you definitely didn’t mean to have to take him to the hospital because apparently, your hot neighbor was allergic to peaches

who’s fucking allergic to peaches?

yang jungwon, apparently

you didn’t even know what he looked like until you had to drive him to the hospital in your stupid beat up toyota bc his face was bright red and splotchy

and he kept itching it

which then meant that you had to swat at his hand every so often

it was not the first impression you wanted to make on such a pretty man

you vividly remember sitting in the waiting room, knee bouncing in fear that you may have accidentally killed the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life

or that you would have to pay his hospital bills for the rest of his life

fuck american healthcare (and the collegiate system)

only to find out that he was absolutely fine. in fact. he knew the doctor there. not only did he know the doctor. he worked for the doctor. 

he had insurance.

you had been betrayed.

not really. you didn’t exactly give him a chance to tell you that you didn’t need to take out a debt creating loan to pay his hospital bills

you were too busy trying not to cry as you sped down the interstate in hopes that your decision to take the toyota instead of paying another $4000 for the ambulatory fee was the correct decision

it was.

so when jungwon walks out with an itemized bill and a sheepish, almost silly smile, you nearly fall to your knees in gratitude in the middle of the waiting room

you’re pretty sure that some of those people are convinced jungwon beat cancer bc of the relief on your face when you see the 0 next to copay on the bill

you could kiss jungwon but his face still looks a little too splotchy to be doing that

and you tell him as much but he just laughs, shaking his head a little bit

“so you’re saying you would kiss me if i didn’t look so splotchy?”

“i’m saying i’m going to kiss your insurance provider and i’m switching mine to yours today.”

anyway

after nearly losing your hot neighbor to justin bieber’s hit song, you finally start getting closer to him

it turns out that you had meant to pie yours and jungwon’s mututal friend and down the hall neighbor, jake sim, from whom he was renting out the apartment for the summer

but jake had the reflexes of a fucking ninja and had ducked and jungwon had the privilege of being pied instead

you had knocked on jake’s door and as soon as someone opened the door, you pied them with no thoughts and no turnback

jungwon had opened the door though, and the rest was history

you guys had a very neighborly relationship

jungwon would come home after a long day of summer classes, internships, and work and you cook jungwon (peach-less) baked goods that he could die for

and when you would complain abt your broke ass, he would buy enough groceries for the two of you and you would go to his place or he would come to yours

the stubborn struggling artist in you always protested

“i can’t let you buy this for me! groceries are so expensive nowadays!”

“if it makes you feel better, these aren’t organic. in fact that avocado looks like it’s on life support.”

“...”

but you also end up coming over to his place whenever he has a quick repair or smth bc the landlord doesn’t know a screw from a lightbulb

so he insists that it all cancels out in the end

but you hates taking jungwon’s help (or any help in general you stubborn ass)

so you got onto the summer job hunt grind

but it was pretty late, almost the middle of june, and not many places were hiring

thankfully, jake sim was loaded

and he was going to europe for the rest of the summer

randomly

bc apparently that’s what rich people do

so you were able to take his role temporarily at the local dance studio that jake taught at

not that jake needed the money

but he said smth about “passing on the passion” and “encouraging the next generation of dancers”

you kinda stopped listening once you saw pics of him in leotards that left nothing to the imagination

scrubbing the mental image from your mind was hard enough

you weren’t the best ballet dancer, but you had danced for 10 years in contemporary before a foot injury knocked you out of dancing for good

so you definitely had the experience (and a semi-healed foot) that you needed

and besides! as an education major, you needed experience with working with students anyway

or at least that’s what you tell yourself

because you forget how terrifying little human beings are until you step into the studio

and every single one of them is wearing some lululemon or aritzia variation

and you’re...kinda just wearing your old tights and a loose shirt

not in a quirky “i’m not like other dancers” type of way

a more humble “i can’t afford luxury brands” type of way

no shame in the college grind game

but other than the fact that you felt like you were on an episode of dance moms every day, the classes weren’t that bad

the kids were pretty polite and they generally didn’t really mind that they had a new teacher - although one of them did say that jake was really good eye candy

and that you were gorgeous but not really their type

hey. you’re gorgeous. you’re everyone’s type. in fact, they’d be lucky if you were one’s type.

but you’re also thankful bc it’d be really awkward if your prepubescent students had a crush on you...

speaking of crushes

jungwon was fucking oblivious to yours

he says shit that makes you think that he’s caught on

that he knows that you would cosplay anastasia steele for the rest of your life if it meant he went for a roll in the hay with you

or you know, took you out on a nice, romantic date

you don’t really know how it works nowadays

but every time you think you’ve been discovered, he proceeds to completely do a 180

one time, the two of you were sitting on the couch watching, aptly enough, the notebook

when jungwon leans over incriminatingly, close enough to kiss you and you’re just about to turn your head, excited that jungwon has decided to make the first move

only for him to grab the remote and turn up the volume

which, in hindsight, does nothing to confirm that jungwon feels the same way about you as you feel about him

but it doesn’t really matter

we live in a delusional world and you’re the reigning monarch so it all works in your head

but other than the fact that you were most definitely crushing on your neighbor

the two of you were basically inseparable

it was like some higher being wanted you to suffer

bc you and jungwon got along SO WELL

and he just...didn’t even connect the dots

or if he did, he didn’t say anything about the tension between you two (that you might’ve accidentally somewhat have made up)

but all in all, jungwon and you had a pretty nice summer

some days you’d go to the beach and just watch the stars while drinking beers

some days you’d go to the little kiddie theme park that the neighboring town has just because their fried ice cream was insanely good

“we’re probably going to get diabetes, three different heart conditions, and certified obesity from these things.”

“...well the universe shouldn’t have made the human body too weak for fried ice cream then.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that fried ice cream simply should just not exist?”

“never.”

that summed up pretty much your entire friendship with jungwon

but no matter how close you became with him, it still felt like he was holding himself back a little bit - although, it killed you, you understood

for starters, he’d disappear off the face of the planet for two or three days before coming back to you with the same calm yet insane energy that only jungwon could carry

on top of that, he seemed to be losing a lot of weight lately - which was probably what was leading to the hair loss as well

and whenever you guys weren’t hanging out, he was pretty much always at the hospital

you’d mentioned gently a couple times that you were worried for him bc you were worried that his job was working him too hard (so as to not tip him off)

(hence the long hours at the hospital and the weight/hair loss)

but jungwon always gave you a tight smile and changed the subject

so you slowly learned to just drop it and not push him

you had no clue that jungwon was struggling with how to tell you the truth behind all those hours and the weight loss

you had no clue that jungwon was head over heels in love with you

you, y/n l/n, were completely unaware that jungwon knew exactly how you felt because he felt the same exact way

you had no clue that you were catching feelings for the terminally ill jungwon yang - according to jungwon yang

jungwon had liked you from the beginning, honestly

the almost comical way you fretted over him when you accidentally pied him, only to see rashes on his neck

the way that your eyes would light up when you were talking about how you wanted to teach

the way that your nose crinkled when jungwon brought home asparagus for you to experiment with one day

the way your eyes fall to his lips and then back up hurriedly, as if you’re scared that he’s going to find out you like him the same way that he likes you

which he does.

but jungwon yang also has terminal cancer.

which meant that he was absolutely never going to tell you about his feelings and let you tell him about yours

because he didn’t want to know that when he left this earth, he left someone who loved him behind on it

he’s scared

he’s scared that you wouldn’t move on (was that his ego speaking? perhaps)

or that you wouldn’t understand why jungwon had taken so long to acknowledge his feelings

or worst of all, jungwon was so fucking terrified that you would leave his side if you knew that he had terminal cancer

because that’s a burden that not many people were willing to take on voluntarily

so he stuff his feelings down deep into his stomach, where his heart can’t reach them

and it is the one thing that he regrets most

little does he know that you’re well aware of the fact that jungwon had cancer

jake had called you one day, out of breath and shaken to the core with worry

his friend jungwon had called jake and collapsed mid-call, three days before you met jungwon officially, and the line had gone silent

jake had begged you to drive jungwon to the hospital

which you obviously did, the second you found jake’s spare key

and managed to haul jungwon into your beat up toyota

and even in his semi-conscious state, you couldn’t help but think that he was the most gorgeous person that you’d ever seen in your life

and that you really wanted to get to know him

jungwon never knew that you were the one who had driven him to the hospital, since jake was the only one in the room when he awoke, finding out from the doctor that he had collapsed due to the toll of treatment on his body

you’d instructed jake to keep the news of you driving jungwon a secret

jungwon’s cancer wasn’t exactly public information, and you hated to think that jungwon would have a certain impression of you and that you’d never be able to speak to him normally

which is why you figure that jungwon simply just doesn’t want to want anyone at this point in his life

but you can’t help it

you like him so much that it starts to hurt

and you have to let it out

you have to tell him just how much you love him

before the love starts eating you from inside out

jungwon is silent when you blurt it out one day, while the two of you are standing in the kitchen, cooking with a random louis armstrong song playing in the background

you’re somewhat aware of what jungwon is going to say before he says it

but you let him say it anyway

“i’m not sure i want to get into a relationship right now.”

“that’s fine. i didn’t tell you because i wanted you to respond; i told you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

the louis armstrong song just continues to play and the two of you continue to cook in silence

it never grows awkward between the two of you

even with your feelings out in the open, everything stays the same

the two of you still tiptoe the line of friends and something more without ever crossing over to the other side

until that one day

jungwon had planned to finally put his big boy pants on and tell you how he feels

fuck the cancer

fuck his hesitation

fuck everything

he just wanted you to know that he liked you too

and that you were the reason why he was still smiling and dancing his way through this summer, even though he’d thought that he wouldn’t be able to smile like that anymore

he was all ready too

he’d gotten you flowers, put on your favorite song and cooked you your favorite food

he pushes down the funny feeling in his stomach that had been bugging him for the past couple of days, chalking it up to nerves because he was finally acting on his feelings

but that would be the nail in the coffin

the last thing that jungwon remembered was the feeling of swaying before falling to the floor, seeing jake sim’s shoes run over to where he was

and then everything went black

when jungwon woke up, the doctor had to inform him once again that he had collapsed

that the funny feeling in his stomach was no silly joke, but the cancer attacking him from inside out aggressively

they tell him that they had to perform emergency surgery to replace his kidney, which was damaged beyond repair, something that no one had been able to trace previously

he was lucky, the doctor said to them

there was a patient who was in a car crash in the operating next to him and the kidney had been in perfect condition

the doctor continued, saying how lucky jungwon was that the kidney had been compatible for his body, stating that the likelihood of his body being able to beat the cancer that had been destroying him increasing significantly

but jungwon isn’t listening

everything felt wrong.

jungwon could feel it in his heart

it wasn’t right

he swallows and asks the doctor the name of the patient

but he knows the doctor cannot reveal information like that

it doesn’t matter

once he sees jake burst through the doors, tears streaming down his cheeks, jungwon knows

“it was her, wasn’t it.”

jake just falls to his knees, sobs wracking his body and the doctor sees himself out

“she wanted me to tell you that she was happy that it was her before you.”

jungwon just falls back against the pillow, staring up the ceiling, unable to feel or think of anything

he just felt numb

even at your funeral, just a week later, jungwon is unable to think

he’s numb

completely frozen

unable to move on

and when he’s asked to pay his respects, all he can do is touch your coffin, his tears finally falling

“i’m so grateful you pied me in the face that day, y/n. i wish i had - i wish i had told you, i like you too. and i’ll get pied in the face with a truckload of peaches if it meant that you could come back to me. to come back to me to at least let me tell you that i like you. the same way you like me.”

he laughed cynically through his tears.

“you don’t have to respond. i just wanted to tell you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

jungwon never falls in love again after that, unable to forget the memories the two of you had shared in that short but sweet summer.

and every year, on the year that you’d given your life to jungwon, he eats a peach pie, wishing that you were there to chide him and eat it with you, louis armstrong playing in the background

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)

(Azul's Part two)

Previous Part (Leona)

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Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Riddle (Suggestive Themes), Leona (Cussing, Blood mention), Azul (Obsession, Manipulation, Cussing once, Potential Cannibalism? (He eats merpeople who are turned into Polyps). The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personality of our beloved boys

Due to the Tumblr Limit, Each one will be divided unfortunately, hopefully it's an easy navigation for all of you!

─────❅─────

First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus

List of Villains interconnecting with each character:

Riddle = Queen of Hearts

Leona = Scar

Azul = Ursula

─────❅───── Azul: “That’s all?” Your skepticism grew further while you scanned his face for any type of deception.

“That’s all” he said, leaning on the cauldron he placed his arms on the top of it, while resting his chin on his hand, he looks so trustworthy looking at you like that, if you didn’t know your Azul inside out you would have jumped into the opportunity of creating a deal with him in a heartbeat.

“Ask” You decided to take a bite on his bait, and that made Azul sneer, he walked towards you, a golden contract all too familiar was placed on your lap. “I can’t just ask you questions without having it written by contract my star” He pats the contract to your lap like he’s smoothing the paper out while calling you a little nickname he felt that was right. That was the nickname your Azul called you a lot, but right now, it made you feel uncomfortable, the situation was uncanny, grabbing the contract you tried to find loopholes that were written on it, but so far, you couldn’t find anything that dooms you to fail.

“So?” he urged you to sign away your soul faster, growing a bit impatient, he taps his arms while keeping it crossed around his body, “The contract won’t sign itself Starfish.” He turns around, giving you a reasonable distance as you contemplate about it.

Without anything to fall back to, you decided to take risk, your face turning sour as a magical pen manifested in front of you, taking it, you closed your eyes signing the contract, which made Azul’s heart beats fast, oh you’re in it now.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm palpable as the contract vanished before your eyes, you felt as if you made a mistake, wanting to grab the paper again before it vanished, but before you could, Azul's cold fingers intertwined with yours, his other arm wrapping around your fins and waist. “Now come” he commanded, as if you had any say on it, dragging you to the couch, he placed you there, a more comfortable place to sit down than the rock earlier.

The first questions he asked were straight to the point, asking if you knew him in your “real world”, you answered truthfully and correctly of course! He may not be your Azul, but he’s still Azul, and you’re bounded by his contract.

While you would be fine on the first questions, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were scammed, but so far, they all were cut and dry, “What was my relationship with you?”

"You were my boyfriend" muttering that out, Azul was unreadable, humming in acknowledgement. You know he was quick with his tongue, and smart with it, of course; even if you keep your guard up, you know in the battle of wits, you lose to him.

So, the moment he traces his fingers on your shoulders, shivering at the sudden physical intimacy, he had planted his hands on your shoulders, leaning down as you kept your hands to yourself. “This is my last question” You looked hopeful, it was almost done! And so far, nothing bad happened yet, glancing to your side as he was really close to your face, you backed up a bit before looking down.

“Okay," your voice steady but your grip tight on your wrist. You tried not to feel nervous as you attempted to pinch yourself, the skin on your fins wasn’t something you could pinch on, so you ended up touching your wrists instead.

“Do you remember the first time you met a great mage?”

You look at him confused, eyebrows knitting together while you look at him confused. “What?” you tried to get any clarification for the question.

Oh, Azul was feeling gracious, an arm of his tracing your chin, “Let me clarify”

“When did you meet Azul?”

Well, that confused you more, answering him about the time you met your Azul.

You’re quite naïve, then again that question of his was bound to make you fail. Feigning sadness he pushes the hair away from your face as he leans closer. “How unfortunate, answering wrongfully.”

You feel your blood run cold as you look at him, “What-“Golden handcuffs wrap around your wrists as the contract takes effect, grounding you to it.

Unfortunately, you broke the contract, but that’s alright” he says smiling menacingly “At least you belong to me.”

[p0nyo17]

Male Rover x AMAB Reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * synopsis: Rover and you have had sex many times, with protection. Although it seems tonight, Rover wants to try something different. Yeah, both of you are not going sleeping at all tonight.

⋆·˚ ༘ * warnings: rough sex, creampie, multiple rounds, bitting, lovey dovey(read: horny) rover and reader, no use of Y/N.

⋆·˚ ༘ * characters: Rover and reader

Wet sounds and whiny moans echoed through out the room. You smiled into the kiss, a familiar tenseness was forming in your pants as you eagerly swallow muffled gasps and whines of Rover. He straddled your lap with both legs showing a slight sign of trembling. He gripped the strands of your hair lightly as he pushed himself more into you, unintentionally grinding onto your shaft.

Your breath hitched at the feeling of Rover’s ass grazing your clothed member, skilled hands immediately reaching for his lower hip. In an attempt to still his wiggling bottom. You both were shirtless, Rover unsubtly eyeing your pecs as one of your hands stretched down to unzip Rover’s pants. Seeing you do this, Rover quickly pulled down your pants as much as he could from the position you both were in.

After disregarding your last bit of clothes, you began to stand, your hands placing themself under Rover’s ass to securely hold him in place as you place him down onto your shared bed. When you placed him down, you immediately shoved yourself into his neck, nuzzling into him before harshly bitting down onto the sensitive skin.

Earning a loud gasp from Rover. Licking the bite mark gently, you moved on to other parts of his neck, greedily sucking on to the soft area. Rover's eyes widened and he choked a little bit as he felt your hands roam his body, rubbing his squishy thighs and giving a single squeeze to his pink leaking tip.

Once you were down teasing his neck. You planted hot open-mouthed kisses all along his body, all the way down onto his poor twitching member. Unfortunately it would not be getting much attention tonight, perhaps another day. You sat up to reach for the bottle of lube, squeeze a decent amount onto the tips of your fingers, spreading it generously around his hole. Feeling a little mischievous, you quickly inserted your finger, almost letting out a moan at the wet squelch that just came out from Rover’s hole. His eyes closed as he kept in a moan, his ungloved hand reaching down to yours. You chuckled at his cuteness as you clasped your hands together, slowing down your pumping to lean down and kiss his tacet mark softly.

This time, he let out a soft moan, blushing at the tenseness of your hunger gaze. Now fucking him with two fingers, He suddenly got louder and squirming at the new layer pleasure. You smirked and decided to tease him a bit,

“Wow, You only have two fingers in and you look like you’re about to cum. I wonder how you’ll be able to handle my cock.”

Rover grumbled at your words and reached for your neck to pull you to him, your thrusts never ceasing. He enveloped you into a kiss, tongues pushing against each other. Rover carefully reached to your own tacet mark, resting to the side of your neck. With one swift motion, he bit onto your mark and started to suck on the area where your mark rested.

Your eyes were the size of saucers and you actually collapsed onto Rover’s body. Breathing heavily as you laid your elbows onto the soft sheets, embarrassingly moaning at the feeling of Rover sucking on your tacet mark. You let your head hang to the side of his neck as you feel him continue to lick your neck, trying to recollect yourself as you let out a whimper when his teeth grazed your tacet mark again.

“M-mmph…You cheeky thing.” You choked out, reaching down to slowly pump your shaft, sneakily alining it with Rover’s puckered hole. Rover smirked and caressed your head adoringly. “See, I told you that you were mor- AH— nghh!”

Interrupting his sentence, you plunged your cock deep into Rover; feeling his tight steamy walls surround your length. You groan loudly as you leave him no time to adjust to the feeling of your thick shaft, you move your hips to pull out of Rover’s hold. Which earned you a long moan from the bottom, to which you grinned at. You then rapidly thrusted back into his hole, with a loud squelch following behind.

“Ngh— Haah…Rover, you are so tight. I love it.” You said with a dark undertone. Rover sweat dropped at your words, having a feeling that he won’t be able to walk for the next day.

You started to thrust in and out of his hole, each plunge sending stars to the both of you. You gripped his hips and used them as a way to quickly slam back into him faster. Your balls roughly hitting his ass.

Loud moans and whiny whimpers came out of you two. Rover’s hands gripping the sheets hard as his entire body moved up snd down with your thrusts, his hole clamping around your cock. His moans were loud and begging, gasping to let him cum and to fill him up. “Uhh, Mmph—NGH— So good, yes, fill me up! M’ close!”

Now, you could you say no to that pleading voice, just eagerly waiting to be stuffed with your seed. You unexpectedly let out a growl and quickened your pace, fucking him mercilessly.

Loud skin slapping and wet sounds accompanied by an array of moans and groans were heard within the room, they both didn’t care about who heard. Deep down they knew that a certain someone dreamed of joining them, to have them both fucked out by that someone, and for you to feel the stuffed feeling of Rover’s and (you can’t know yet tehe)’s veined cock in your begging hol—

Ahem, excuse me for that—interruption.

Rover got increasingly louder as he approached his climax, moaning your name over and over. You whimpered as you felt him clenching around your shaft, “Mmm, M’ close too. Let’s come together.” You told him, trapping one of his hands in your grasp as you roughly pounded Rover. After a few more thrusts, you both came. Rover cried as his cock splurted out creamy cum, all over his and your abdomen.

You moaned into his ear as you spilled all your cum into his hole, which tightened more around your length. You came a lot this round, as you felt some of it drip out and onto the bedsheets, you sighed and nuzzled your face into Rover’s neck. He chuckled and held your head gently. You instinctively thrusted into him one more time, fucking your cum into him. Rover gasped and let out a small scream at the sudden pleasure.

You chuckled and soflty apologized. Rover went silent for a bit, which prompted you to lazily lift your head to meet his gaze. You froze though as you recognized the glint in his eyes. He abruptly gripped your hips harshly and smirked at the sight of your frozen stance.

“It’s my turn now.”

Oh shit.

The sound of loud wet squelching is heard along with loud whiny moans coming from you. Rover viciously slammed into you with his cock, earning a whimper from you as the overstimulation creeped in. Your played-with nipples rubbed against the bedsheet, therefor adding to your overflowing pleasure. This was, probably, the third round so far. You shut your eyes as you let your tongue hang out of your mouth, too fucked out to keep it inside.

Rover chuckled at this, enjoying the fact that he got to top you two times instead of one. You guys rock paper scissored to see you would bottom and you lost.

“AH, Nghhh— I’m close, m’ close, close! I need it please! Please” You whined, at this point, blabbering out pleads like a cumslut. You clutched the sheets in desperation, arching your back at the sensation of Rover’s ramming cock.

With a few more thrusts and a spank from Rover, you came loud and hard, your length staining the sheets underneath you. You screamed and whimpered when Rover continued to pump into you, chasing his own high. You let out moans with each thrust, legs shaking terribly.

After a few more agonizing thrusts, Rover came in you, he stilled for a moment. Allowing his cock to shoot his cum in your hole, now satisfied that your hole was filled with two loads of his thick cum. With his cock still plugged in you, he reached towards the nightstand where one buttplug sat.

There was originally two, but Rover used one on himself to keep your precious cum in him. Now it was your turn, you laid motionless as you were far too gone to even speak at the moment. Wow, who knew Rover could be so rough.

You did however react when you got the cold buttplug get stuffed in your ass, moaning gently at the new but welcomed feeling.

You turned your head and reached up to get Rover, who bent down and grasped your chin, holding you in place while you two shared a loving kiss.

⋆·˚ ༘ * Me right now : 🤭

btw in the 3rd round your stomach was facing the bedsheets and rover was on top of you, js ofr some context.

[suplicyy]

Hii!

Could you please write some hcs of Kenma, and Nishinoya plus maybe anyone else you want with a gf who's like a tiny bit younger than them, shorter and is like really clingy. She's like constantly texting them, and takes every chance she can to hug them or just talk to them and is there even at their practices.

Haikyuu boys w/ a clingy gf

— Summary: Relationship hcs about them having a clingy girlfriend.

— Characters: Nishinoya, Kenma

— Fluff

— Fem!Reader

You're only a year younger than him, so it wasn't so difficult to make friends with him!! Little by little you would meet each other by chance during breaks or during free time in class, and these moments made you get closer and closer, until you started dating.

But as time went by, you opened up to him more and had the courage to be who you really are, as he has always made it clear that he likes you for who you are. And after that, you felt more confident to be more loving with him: with lots of physical touches, words of affirmation and lots of quality time!

You love your boyfriend very much and want to show it in the most affectionate way possible!

Nishinoya

The way you met is always told as a story at family lunches. You were passing by the gym by chance, and a ball he received flew out of the place and ended up in your face. He apologized a million times and even offered to buy you a popsicle for a whole week.

But after that you understood each other and became friends, until you got to where you are now!

He simply LOVES you to be clingy with him, as he returns your affections with the same intensity as you. People on the outside assume you were meant for each other since your personalities match up so well.

Anywhere and anytime you are always together in some way, whether it's clasping hands, hugging, kissing; you are rarely separated from each other.

But unfortunately there are times when you aren't always together, after all you don't live in the same house and you have your own clubs to go to. So you guys are always messaging each other on your cell phone!

If someone doesn't ask him to stop using his cell phone to talk to you, he could easily spend the whole day just sending you silly audios of him singing a random song he heard somewhere.

Kenma

One day, you saw him playing one of your favorite games, so you started talking to him. And you spent a few days talking until you had the courage to ask for his phone number, which he gave you almost immediately (but he would never admit he was excited about it for you)

Kenma spoke more freely through messages than in person, so you almost always talked about various things: games you're playing at the moment, movies, series, about your day. And with that you ended up becoming closer, until you started dating.

You know that Kenma is someone who is quite shy, so at the beginning of the relationship you weren't so clingy in public with him. But when the two of you were alone, you loosened up a little and became much more affectionate.

At first he was always very shy when you initiated physical affection with him, but after a while he relaxed more and managed to adapt to your way of showing affection to him.

You would from time to time be seen literally clinging to each other, with him playing on his console and with his head resting on your shoulder, and you hugging him. As much as he doesn't like PDA that much, he finds your presence and your touches so comforting that he ends up giving in a little.

Kuroo once went to Kenma's house to get something he had left there the last time he went there, and when he entered he found him hugging you with his face buried in the crook of your neck. After some deadly glares from the boy, Kuroo promised he wouldn't tell anyone.

A/N — Tysm for your request!! I wish I had added more characters, but recently I've been very busy so I was afraid it would take too long for me to do this one.💔💔

I hope you enjoyed it!

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 8

Part 8: Art woke up with his head in her neck and a hand on her chest, starting to think that maybe this is how he would always wake up if she were next to him. He managed to detach himself without waking Liana and took advantage of these minutes to look at her a bit.

His head ached from all the alcohol, and for a moment he wondered if everything that happened last night had really happened. But she was wearing his shirt and sleeping in his bed, so apparently, it had. This made him smile and get out of bed. He put on a pair of sweatpants and went downstairs to the kitchen. He made two cups of coffee and put a box of painkillers in his pocket. "Good morning," he heard his mother and smiled automatically. "Hey, Mom," he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "How was your evening?" she asked, and he updated her that it was okay, without giving too many explanations. While she was moving towards the living room, turning her back to him, she said, "Tell Liana she's welcome to come down for breakfast." Art stopped, feeling himself blush and realizing that she had heard them last night. Him and Liana. Liana, whom she had known since the day she was born. Liana, the daughter of her best friend. His mother had heard her moaning in her son's bed. "What..." he mumbled, not knowing what to do. "The coffee, it's for Liana, right?" His mother turned back to him, amused by the whole situation. "Oh, relax, Art, it was just a matter of time, and Liana is always welcome to eat with us. Don't chase her out the back door," she winked at him and concluded the conversation. His heart was beating so fast he didn't know what to do. She would surely tell Liana's parents, and then Liana would never let him touch her again out of embarrassment. He placed the cups on the counter and followed her into the living room. "You can't tell Sarah," he stated. He was terrified at the thought of their parents sitting one evening and just talking about his and Liana's sex life as if it were a legitimate dinner table conversation. "Art, what I do or do not tell Sarah, my best friend, the woman who also raised you when you think about it, is my business," she was still speaking with complete nonchalance. "Mom, I'm begging you. Don't tell her. Does Dad know too? Do I need to ask him as well?" he tried to understand how deep the damage control he needed to do was. "You weren't exactly quiet when you broke the vase Grandma gave us last Christmas," his mom looked at him with a sharp look. Art tried to understand what she was talking about and vaguely remembered how they had come in, and he had bumped into something, causing both him and Liana to choke with laughter. "Shit. God. I'll buy you a new vase. I promise." He smiled a toothy smile. One that was his mother's weak spot. "Mom, please. Don't tell them." He saw on her face that she was about to relent. "It's very new, and we're still trying to figure out what we're doing," Art told her and sighed. "How new?" she asked, surprised. What she and her husband heard last night (unfortunately for them) did not sound like the beginning of something. "Very. I'm pretty sure it's new from yesterday..." his hand went over his neck for a second. He was nervous. "I can't have our parents talking about this before we've talked about it. Please, Mom, just pretend you didn't hear anything." He pleaded, and the woman in front of him nodded. "Okay," she rolled her eyes, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek. She saw her son stand up with a smile and head toward the kitchen. "Art," she made him turn around, "don't hurt her, okay?" she said, looking at him sharply. "Of course not, it's Liana." He had no choice but to nod. He didn't think there was a scenario where he was the one hurting Liana and not the other way around. Liana woke up in an empty room, taking a second to remember that this was Art Donaldson's room. Her heart beat uncontrollably fast as she recalled all the things she did last night with Art. Annoying Art who used to wipe snot on her when they were four. Art who would change the channel every time she wanted to watch 'The Lion King' at five. Art who, if she closed her eyes, she would see woven into every significant memory she had of this life.

She got up slowly, adjusting to the slight dizziness that hit her, and walked to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with the spare brush she found there yesterday and washing her face. What if he didn't want to talk about it? What if he decided there was nothing to talk about? What if it was all in her head? She heard the door to the room open and saw him come in with two cups of what she could imagine were coffee. "My hero," she blurted and snatched one of them from his hand, causing him to chuckle while she blushed from her own choice of words. Art took a sip while examining her. She was still wearing his shirt, and her hair was messy. She did everything to avoid looking at him. "Can we talk about it?" he realized he needed to take matters into his own hands because if he relied on the verbal abilities of the girl in front of him, they would talk about it at ninety when they would be in a retirement home. "Do you want to?" she asked, passing a neurotic hand over her nose. It was her tick when she was nervous. She had a few. The twitching leg and the hand on the nose betrayed her the quickest. "Li, can we be mature about this? Please?" he sighed and sat next to her on the edge of the bed. He hated that he had to beg. She took another sip of the coffee, looked at him, and nodded. "It was fun, right?" she asked hesitantly, again looking forward instead of at him. "It could be more fun if you manage to look me in the eyes for more than five seconds..." he tried to sound calm and amused, but this new situation was strange for him too. He didn't expect this. He didn't expect to look at Liana in a sexual way. He didn't expect his good luck charm from the moment he started playing tennis to be simultaneously the best blowjob he had ever had. It could confuse anyone, but him probably especially. "I can look at you for more than five seconds..." she rolled her eyes and brought her gaze back to him, not moving but blushing. This made him chuckle in frustration. "We're a bit stupid, aren't we?" he said, and she laughed too. "It wasn't a mistake, right?" she asked, feeling a bit more comfortable. "It was everything but a mistake, Li." He stated. "We can just take it slow and try to figure out what's going on? Stay us and add new things to it..." he suggested. "Art, what about Tashi?" she asked suddenly, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "What about her?" he returned the question, a little confused by the new direction of the conversation. "You talk about her all day, you definitely want to be with her," she seemed frustrated. "I don't want to be with Tashi," he felt the need to defend himself, not understanding how instead of talking about how great their night was, they were talking about Tashi Duncan. "She's also with Patrick. I'm not in love with her or anything." He spoke faster than usual, afraid that the opportunity he had now with Liana would slip through his fingers because of something hypothetical that wouldn't happen with Tashi anyway. "I didn't say you were in love with her..." she sighed, and again her hand was on her nose for a second. In her opinion, Art had given himself away. Art placed the cup he was holding on the floor and turned his whole body towards her, examining her closely. He was almost sure he would never get used to Liana wearing his clothes. He would never get used to seeing the marks he left on her neck, silently screaming that she was his. Completely his. "Li, I won't force you, but I think you want this too." He tried a new direction. Feeling he had to steer the conversation away from Tashi. Of course, he wanted Tashi; every man with eyes wanted Tashi. But he knows for sure that what happened last night with Liana would be the only thing he could think about until the next time he heard her moan his name. "You can't know that," she said in a childish voice and crossed her arms under her chest, causing him to chuckle.

"You're such a brat, God," he chuckled again, because he knew she was just being stubborn. Just by looking at her at that moment, with the flushed cheeks, he knew he had won this argument. "No, I'm not. I'm a person who knows what they want." She stood up, taking a few steps to move away from him. Liana felt she had to think deeply about this. Every warning light she had was flashing. This is Art Donaldson. You can't give your all to Art Donaldson. He will crush you. She knew. He stood up with her, every step she took backward hesitantly, he took forward confidently until they reached a dead-end; his closet. She lifted her gaze and met his blue eyes, looking at her as if she held the moon in her hands. "What do you want?" he asked in a whisper, not taking his eyes off her for a second. Almost managing to see the shiver she felt when he spoke so close to her. "I can help you understand. It's Us. It’s just you and me." He spoke near her ear, and she closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. One of his fingers gently brushed her neck, over the marks he had left, causing her to sigh. "Just say it. You're a big girl, you can say what you want." By this point, both of them were breathing heavily, and she opened her eyes, seeing his darken with a spark of something she couldn't identify. "Art..." she whispered, unable to find the words. He was so beautiful. How had she not noticed over the years how beautiful Art Donaldson was? "I'm not going to say it for you." His voice was steady, demanding. Not hesitant. "Use your words." His nose touched hers, and her chest brushed against his with every breath she took. "The moment you say what you want, you'll get it." His breaths were heavy too. It almost felt like the fate of their lives depended on this moment. "I want it. I want you." Her voice was weak; she couldn't swallow or breathe. "Good girl." He responded, and saw how her expression changed. The moment he said that, it was like a switch, she pressed her lips to his, almost angrily, upset that he had made her so desperate. Upset that he knew exactly how to lead her where he wanted. Upset that his hand was still not under her shirt, even though all she wanted right now was his touch. He completely controlled her ability to function independently right now. Just knowing she was good for him. They pulled away from each other, breathing heavily. Art's smile was genuine but also mischievous. They both knew he had won. He simply knew it was a tie, and that she could crush him with one wrong word. "So, we'll take it slow." He said, and she chuckled. "Yeah, huh? Slow seems to be our strength." She rolled her eyes and laughed too, concluding they would be fine. "I need to go home, my parents think I'm at Rebecca's..." she said while they lay in bed, not exchanging many words. His hand was around her, and her head was on his shoulder, still trying to catch their breath from the emotional turmoil of the past two days. "Your parents know you're here," he chuckled, remembering the conversation with his mom earlier. Liana looked at him and sat up quickly. Her hand scratched her nose for a moment, and her eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean???" Her voice raised an octave, and her cheeks flushed red. "My parents heard us. We weren't exactly quiet." He sounded amused, but to his defense, he had at least an hour more than her to get used to the idea. "What are you talking about? Why are you laughing, Art?! This is so embarrassing!!!" Her hands were on her face, trying to hide the level of embarrassment. He gently removed them, and she looked at him with the most frustrated look she had ever given him. He couldn't believe there were still so many of Liana's facial expressions he didn't know. "Mom lied to me earlier that she wouldn’t tell Sarah, but-" he started, trying to explain how he knew. "As if they can keep anything from each other. Ugh. So embarrassing, Art." "She also said they knew this would happen," he tried to comfort her, to explain that maybe it wasn't so bad that they knew. That now they didn't have to explain themselves.

"So fucking embarrassing." She repeated. "Patrick is coming tomorrow, remember?" He suddenly asked after a few more minutes of silence. "Oh my God, Patrick. We can't tell Patrick." She mumbled, half to Art, half to herself. "What?" He looked confused by her sudden change in behavior. She seemed to freeze next to him. He watched her get out of bed and start pacing back and forth. "We can't tell him, Art. Promise me." She stopped and looked at him. "Why?" He felt his stomach turning. Why didn't she want Patrick to know? Patrick, whom Art knew was in love with her. Patrick, who talked to her for hours on the phone. Patrick, whom Art introduced to her. "Because everything is already complicated in his life, and I don't want to add something else that will make him feel weird," she tried to explain herself but couldn't. Liana's heart was racing. The thought of Patrick knowing she and Art were trying things and exploring each other's bodies made her uncomfortable. "Why would knowing that you and I are together make him feel weird?" His heart was pounding. He understood; She knew. She would never admit it, but deep down, Liana knew Patrick was in love with her. "Because everything is changing for him, and he already feels like we're all leaving him. Art. Please. Let's figure out where this is going first and only then tell him. Promise me." She landed on the floor by the bed. "Please, Art, he and I are already in a weird place right now." She added, lowering her head. "Why are you in a weird place?" He knew something was wrong in their relationship. He just didn't want to ask either of them. To be honest, the fact that Liana and Patrick barely talked in the past month didn't bother Art at all. When Patrick would casually ask him on the phone how Liana was (as if he were asking about the weather), Art would say everything was fine with her and that he saw her a lot, even though he barely saw her at all, and that would be the end of the conversation about Liana. "Because I was stressed about my exams and mad about something he said to me. It doesn't matter, I'll apologize when he comes," she shrugged and didn't look at him anymore. "Did you choose a major?" He asked suddenly, and she leaned back on the floor and sighed. "Yes. We'll see where it goes when the grades come… I applied to both Architecture and Business." She shrugged. "Damn, no wonder you were so stressed. Why did you do that???" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why would anyone apply to both? "Long story, and I don't feel like dealing with it right now." She sighed. How was she supposed to tell him now that if she got into Architecture like she wanted, she would probably leave Stanford for a while?

During Christmas dinner, with the small Hanukkah menorah in the window, Patrick, Liana, and Art snuck outside and sat on the grass, passing around a bottle of champagne they managed to sneak with them. "Finally, some peace," Liana said and giggled. Art's hand automatically found its way to her leg, making gentle movements. Patrick didn't miss it. He remembered the conversation with Tashi. Conversation. Whatever it was with Tashi. If he could, Art would bend her over the table. Show her who she belonged to. Those words were burned into his mind. Could it be they were really fucking? No way. Liana would tell him. Art would tell him. "So, what's new with you guys? Tell me about life at Stanford. Are you already the greatest tennis player in America?" He asked. "She doesn't come to my practices, so I can't be the greatest in America," Art joked, and Liana rolled her eyes and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom. Don't encourage him too much," she started to walk away. "You're not going to tell me?" Patrick asked, and Art just looked at him, raising an eyebrow while half-smiling. "I'm not stupid, Art, what's going on?" His heart was beating faster than expected. "You know…" Art shrugged, and his smile widened. But it wasn't an innocent or a sincere smile. It was his victory smile. A territorial smile. One that couldn't resist saying the last word. Patrick was angry. He tried to breathe, but he felt his stomach clenching. How, while he was trying to be the person Liana needed, did Art get Liana? Art, who wasn't even trying. Art, who for most of his life didn't know what he had right under his nose. "What will you do when she leaves?" He heard himself say, and Art looked at him in confusion. "Come on, Art, you know she'll pass that test and get accepted, right?" He realized with every word he spoke that Art had no idea. He didn't know Liana was planning a year outside of America. "What are you talking about?" Art asked with visible panic in his voice. Patrick tried, but he couldn't stop his smile. Art thought he had won. Art was wrong.

Hey, it's a long chapter, and I'd like to hear your thoughts as always. I hope you enjoy it even tho I understand that the pace is slow. I just hate rushing things for the sake of something interesting happening. You know what I mean?  Next part we'll have more of Patrick, don't worry. pls pls pls keep sending me your opinions in the comments and in the ask box. It makes my day. As usual, if you want to be on the tag list, just ask 💜

taglist: @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @izzywags478

[luciawithoutj]

Hey hi hello!

I have some things to say about new merch and jo merch in general so this is gonna be a litrle longer post and actually I think I should cange my semiotics theme (which is already about jo) about how bad their merch design is.

First of all little disclaimer: this is all my humble opionion based on what I learned in my one year of being graphic design student and an artist and designer on the internet for last 4-5 years. Before going to uni I learned most of about art and graphic design stuff by reading books and watching tons of yt videos. Second of all this critic is just coming from place of love for this band because I see so mucb potential and they could do some amazing merch designs if they give it a chance and I am fully aware how expensive the touring is and why they had to cut the quality of merch products.

So far my favorite jo band merch designs are cds (that probably required some designer to make), condoms (because they are really funny, genius, nicely designed and unique merch that fit the vibe of the band and matches their songs as well) and the new tshirt from last merch drop (which design is made by one slovenian fanartist : link.

Main reason that made me want to speak up is seeing that this merch drop will only have 100 products (my friend said that could mean 20-ish shirts per size) which how big this fandom has gotten in last year is pretty really dam limited. For a limited product I am really disappointed and I hoped for more. For such a limited product that design is the most default design they could have gone for and I am so sorry for Damon because his work is goregous, amazing, breathtaking and I could talk about it for ages and how inspiring it is but this shirt design isn't serving.

If they wanted to do bare minimum of design with those 5 images here is some of my ideas (unfortunately I don't have time to visually show them to yall on a mock ups because of finals that I should be studying for instead of writing this so try to imagine what I am trying to say and demonstrate). First is just simple instead of white choose black shirt or even better a thisrt. If you want it to go a stepp further is using their name logo font (font name is Avaline btw if anyone wants to download and use it for their designs :))) and either put it how they did when they promoted the everybody's waiting or to write idk therapy sessions or anything related to the band or it can even be some inside joke.

Something like this would make design just a bit more intersting but still bare minimum but amazing for regular merch. If they want to go a step further but want to keep the long sleeves (this idea was suggested by few people I talked too) they could put pictures vertically on the sleeves. I would find it a bit cooler if it is on the right sleeve out-side and then they put their band logo (the heart one) on the left side of the shirt where people's hearts normally are.

After exams I would definitely like to try to make some designs and just limit myself with this 5 pictures and play with typography and photoshoop to make something interesting.

Another I want to mentioned is how in my humble opinion if you are gonna sell limited edition either make it really pretty or good quality or really cursed and funny with inside jokes.

I think people (and me first) would eat tshirts (but also other merch designs) with some cursed designs or just texts that say "sparklative" or "slay pose" or "I feel SloveNACE" (this 3 were suggested by amazing people in tumblr discord server) or even let Jan photoshoop their faces on most random picture. This 5 guys with their gen z humour could make and do some hilarious merch like how amazing idea the condoms are.

Last thing I want to say is how many amazingly talented fans are. I mean even Damon was so shocked and moved by amount of talent and art made in this community. Furthermore I know (some of them as online friends and mutuals, others as just artists from same fandom) who are also either graphic design students or they work in art/graphic design/entertainment fields and some of them (including myself) would be so happy to even make few merch designs or art for them for freee or for a ticket for their show. Personally I would die from happiness if I get a chance to work with my favorite band that inspires me so much everyday to the point people at my uni think I am from Slovenia and know slovenian because of how much I include them in my uni work and how much fanart and designs I made because of them in last 6 months.

I just think there is so much potential guys might not be aware of (Idk honestly because who knows what is going on backstage in their lives). But yeah they could have even asked Damon to help them with composition of the pictures on that shirt or even hire Racik to make some pretty art or any fanartist honestly. Here is just few links of my favorite fanartists who also do a lot of graphic design related stuff (and also some of them sell their products on their own websites/redbubble/etsy/inprint/etc) :

Tia <3

Roxanne

Vic

jo.kam_ (previously mentioned her design)

Lemon

yelecx

Racik (ofc)

There is probably more but my brain for hell of it won't remember any names so feel free to add in the comments or tags more artists <3

I could probably go more in depth and give more ideas how to improve merch designs the cheapest and best way as possible but still trying to keep the quality good as it needs to be. I know there is still gonna be people fighting for this shirts and people are still gonna buy their merch but just it hurts my art/designer soul seeing this bad designs when there is so much potential and they have amazing fans and amazing crew and they work with so many talnted people and they themselves are so talented and their music inspired so many and so much.

Thanks everyone for coming to my TedTalk. <3

Actually now I am thinking and from just talking about jo work from design and semiotics perspective for that semiotics seminar I could just focus on their merch design and go more in detail about it and if yall want when it is done and I translate it in english I could share it here for people who want to read about it. Let me know I guess.

Also if someone is interested my art and design insta is lucia.without.j and my redbubble is lucia-without-j and my dms are always open if someone wants to chat or complain about anything art, design, joker out or any other fandom I am in related.

P. S. I am so sorry for any spelling mistakes and if what I said doesn't make sense. English isn't my first language.

[five-and-dimes]

Sunflower

This is a continuation of Mountain Sound and will make fare more sense if you read that first.

For Dreamling Week Day 3: Painting

Read on AO3

Dream takes his time planning his gift for Hob. As outcasts amongst werewolves and vampires alike, all they had was each other. Almost every day was spent side by side, and they wouldn’t have it any other way. However, it made surprises difficult.

But this is something Dream has wanted to do for Hob for so long, and their transition deeper into the mountains provides the perfect opportunity to hide things in the shuffle. Despite the unfortunate circumstances of their move, there is something fun about it as well. A break in the routine they had fallen into for the past decade or so. They spend a few weeks hiking and exploring, searching for a spot that would suit them. Traversing caverns and rocky outposts and hollow trees. It had been Hob’s idea to combine multiple spots.

“Why limit ourselves to a single building?” he had explained excitedly, gesturing at the forest around them, “We can have it all! Build a shelter among the trees and use the caves for the colder months, build a treehouse, maybe dig a burrow for storage!” On and on he’d spoken, everywhere he turned he saw a place they could make a home, a place they could take up space for the life they wanted. Dream simply listened fondly, and vowed to give Hob everything he could possibly want. 

With the decision made, they began gathering supplies, which gave Dream a chance to sneak away the things he needed for his gift. Hob would not find it unusual for Dream to purchase paints from the nearest town, being the avid painter that he was, but the sheer amount he needed would be suspicious. So he buys the colors he will need in multiple trips, hiding them amongst the tools and linens and lanterns that they needed. He takes advantage of Hob’s own idea and shifts into a wolf to dig a deep burrow in the forest, stashing the piles of paint where Hob would not find them. 

It takes nearly a year for them to fully settle once more. They finally bid their previous home farewell and move deeper into the mountains to hide from the world as best they can. They had built a new house beside a rocky outpost, nestled between tree and stone. A nearby cave is filled with various supplies, a place to keep cool in the height of summer and keep warm in the depths of winter. Hob even keeps his word and builds a small treehouse. There are no windows, keeping the sunlight out for Hob’s safety, but the walls are thin enough that in the daytime the sounds of songbirds can be heard easily.

Ironically, they spend the first night after completing their move outside. Dream and Hob run through the landscape that is their new home, Dream even shifting to tackle Hob to the ground, too lost in their shared joy to feel insecure about his wolf form. Leaves kicked up around them as they wrestled playfully, laughter and happy yips echoing through the night. They only return to settle in to sleep inside the house when the sky begins to lighten. In the doorway, Hob looks over his shoulder, a sad smile on his face that Dream is familiar with as he takes one last moment to watch the sky brighten with the light of a sun he can no longer see.

On the very first night they meant, he had told Dream that it was the only thing he hated about being a vampire. That he could never again stand in the sun.

Now, years later, Dream has a plan.

About a month after the move, Hob expressed wanting to go into town. One of the drawbacks to their new location was being farther from the nearest human encampment, but it was unfortunately necessary to increase their safety. 

“I didn’t realize how beat up our tools got from all the building,” he sighed, nearly pouting, “I mean, they’re still fine for fixing things around the house I guess, but I was hoping to do some decorating.” One of Hob’s favorite hobbies was woodcarving, engraving intricate patterns into their door frames and bedposts, or making small figurines to adorn their shelves. Dream could see how the dents and chips in his tools would make it more difficult to carve the details he was so fond of. 

“Plus, I wouldn’t mind snooping a bit more to see if I can’t find some new books on protection spells,” he added. Their new dwellings had a few protection charms, but it was difficult to find enchantments that would keep out other werewolves and vampires without harming the werewolf and vampire that lived there. “Would you like to come with me?” he asked.

“Hmm,” Dream moved nonchalantly, winding his arms around Hob’s neck as he admitted, “I would not mind some time to myself. If. That would not offend you.”

“Never,” Hob responded immediately, with a genuine smile, “I know you. And I love you.”

“Forgive me if that still startles me,” Dream tries to sound joking, but the honesty bleeds through.

Hob doesn’t mind. “Nothing to forgive,” he promises, giving him a light kiss on the lips. “Might be about a week, with the new travel time. That alright?”

Perfect. That would give him plenty of time. 

“Of course,” he responds lightly, concealing his excitement.

The next evening, after a kiss goodbye, Hob speeds off down the mountain and, as soon as his figure disappears from sight, Dream heads inside to get to work. He has time, but that doesn’t mean he can dally. 

He starts by moving the furniture out of their bedroom. There’s not too much in there to begin with, so the process doesn’t take long. The wardrobe and chest they use for storage are moved into a side room that had been ambiguously assigned the title of ‘study’, which was used more as a catchall for their various hobbies and interests they had accumulated over the years. Once the room is empty, Dream gets started laying plaster over the nooks and crannies of the wood paneled walls, running a wide blade over it meticulously until the walls are smooth and even. 

It takes a day for the plaster to dry, and Dream spends that time fetching his paints and mixing them carefully. He sits cross-legged in the middle of the room, occasionally stepping outside to hold his brush up to the sky, comparing the colors and adjusting until they are as perfect as he can make them. 

By the third day he is already nervous. Logically he knows he has plenty of time, but what if Hob comes home early? What if it takes too long to dry? What if the colors look wrong once they are dry and he has to start over? He forgoes sleep and food in favor of painting, coating the walls as quickly as he can without sacrificing the smoothness of the gradient. 

The fifth day, he has moved on to a smaller brush, the background dry enough for him to add details on top of it, shadows and highlights, feathery strokes of white, perfect circles glowing against the waves of color. Dream stands on two chests stacked on top of each other to carefully put the finishing touches on the ceiling.

On the sixth day, it is done. Everything should be dry by tomorrow, when Hob is due to return, and he’s set up the room exactly as he wants. With nothing left to do, Dream shifts, curls up in the very center of the room with his nose tucked under his tail, and worries some more.

What if Hob didn’t like it? What if it upset him? What if he was mad that Dream transformed a whole room in their new home without consulting him? What if he laughed at Dream for being so stupid, for thinking this could possibly be enough in return for all that Hob has given him?

They do not have an anniversary, per say. Even when they have kept calendars, neither felt the need to try to trace back exactly when they met, or exactly when they got together. But every year, when the leaves are just starting to turn like they had on the day they collided together, Hob will pluck a vibrant leaf from the ground and smile.

“Ah,” he will say, a warm smile on his face, “Another year together.” And then he will kiss Dream gently and hold his hand, and Dream will be reminded just how lucky he is. 

He doesn’t know how he could ever express all the love he feels for Hob. The gratitude and the joy and the peace he’s found with him. But he wants to try. He hopes Hob will see that he is trying.

When Dream hears Hob approaching in the distance late the next night he has to immediately return to his human form, because Hob is incessant in his teasing whenever he sees Dream’s tail wag without his permission. Regardless, he can tell by Hob’s face that Dream’s joy at his return is obvious. Despite both of them having spent so much time alone- despite Dream still needing occasional solitude- neither could bear to be apart for long. So while a week may not be long to some, they still run to each other as soon as they are in sight. Their bodies collide, and they take a long moment to simply embrace before they manage to pull back enough to kiss. 

“Welcome home, beloved,” Dream whispered against Hob’s lips.

“Good to be back,” Hob grinned. Once they disentangle themselves, Hob picks up the bags he had dropped in his enthusiasm, “Got a good haul this time. Better tools for repairs, and also splurged on some specialty tools for myself,” he grinned apologetically, but Dream only smiled.

“I think you deserve high quality materials for your craft,” he insisted. Privately, he also felt it only fair considering the amount of paints Dream himself had ‘splurged’ on.

Hob gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I’ll be sure to make you something nice.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, as though he knew a secret Dream didn’t. But before Dream could question him, he continued, “I also found a couple of interesting tomes. Not sure if they’ll be any use to us, but I figured it was still worth going through together. You always had a better grasp of all that magic nonsense.” 

“Hm, we’ll see what we can find,” Dream agreed, reaching out to take one of Hob’s bags as they made their way inside. As they deposit Hob’s things in the common area, Dream inhales deeply, filled with anxiety. He opens his mouth, but pauses. Should he wait? Should he let Hob unwind first before springing this on him? Was it too sudden? He had spent so much time worrying about it not being enough, but maybe it was too much and Hob would be annoyed, especially after his long journey-

“Hey.” 

Dream nearly jumped, Hob’s voice breaking through his thoughts. Hob smiled gently, “You alright, love? You seem tense.”

Swallowing, Dream steeled himself before blurting out, “I have a gift for you.”

Hob blinked in surprise before breaking into a grin, “A gift? Really?” He had a look of excitement on his face like a child, even as he stated, “You didn’t have to get me anything!”

“I know,” Dream smiled, “I wanted to.” Reaching out, he laced their fingers together, pulling Hob towards the bedroom. Outside the door, Dream released his hand, nudging his back to push him forward. Hob raised an eyebrow, but then turned to open the door.

The first wall Hob sees when he walks in nearly makes him flinch. The painted sky in front of him is so detailed and meticulous, he had felt as though he had somehow stepped outside into a sun he sometimes fears he has forgotten. The entire wall is a deep blue, a few wispy clouds breaking up the wall of color, but doing nothing to obscure the bright, pale sun in the center.. 

For a long, long moment, all Hob can do is stare. When he finally begins to turn to look at Dream, his breath hitches as he sees the next wall to his left. This one is more vibrant and colorful, the blue of the previous wall bleeding over before darkening. The sun on this wall is lower, mid morning or early evening perhaps. 

He knows he is crying, but he doesn’t care, whipping around to see the wall behind him. This one also starts with the blue of the afternoon wall, but the gradient is more dramatic. Blue to purple to vibrant reds and oranges, clouds catching every color along their edges. The sun is a darker yellow, a half circle at the base of the floorboards. Sunset. Or, he supposes, sunrise. 

When he finally turns to look back at Dream, he sees blues and reds and purples connecting the walls, the sun painted on the back of the door, not a complete circle, but higher than the previous. Hob feels like a child as he finds himself spinning in place, seeing the way all four walls are connected, a perfect gradient of daytimes. He’s still crying, but he’s so happy, and it is in a moment of glee that he tips his head back and sees one more sun.

Directly above him, pale blue and a sun nearly white with its brightness, only the faintest yellow glow around it. An iron ring holding a circle of candles has been painted white and hangs from the ceiling in the center of the sun, illuminating it even more. High noon on a summer day.

Hob is surrounded by all the daytimes he has missed for so long. 

He allows himself a moment to glance at the rest of the room. There is a pile of pillows and furs in the center, and a tray on the floor with a vase of flowers, a bottle of wine, and two glasses. There are a few lanterns carefully placed around the room to keep it lit as brightly as possible, but the rest of the room is empty, no furniture to obscure the paintings of the sky. By the time he finally turns to face Dream again, he feels like he might combust from love and happiness.

Which makes it all the more ridiculous that Dream looks nervous, wringing his hands in front of him and chewing on his lip.

“I know you miss the sunshine,” he says softly, “and… and I know this isn’t the same, I know it doesn’t truly make up for it, but, but I thought, maybe-”

Dream’s supernatural strength is the only thing that keeps them standing when Hob crashes into him, hands framing his face to kiss him fiercely. Dream wraps his arms around his shoulder, smiling shyly into the kiss, and Hob only pulls away because of the laughter bubbling in his chest. He giggles, so overwhelmed with joy.

“No sun could compare to the light you bring to my life,” he whispers against Dream’s lips, “But I will admit, this room is a close second.”

“You like it, then?” Dream asks, his smiling widening ever so slightly.

Hob laughs again, because what sort of question is that? He loves this ridiculous man so very much, “I love it nearly as much as I love you.”

Dream melts against him, all nervousness gone, “I would bring you the real sun if I could.”

“I don’t need it,” Hob rests their foreheads together and tightens his embrace, “I have everything I need right here.” Pulling back almost reluctantly, Hob looked at Dream so softly, “Dearheart-”

Dream is so full of love he is nearly nauseous with it, like his body can’t contain it and all he can do is interrupt with a breathless exhale, “Marry me.”

Hob’s jaw drops, his eyes widening, and Dream rushes to say more, “I know it doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, wouldn’t really change anything, but I love you so much, I… I want to call you husband.”

There is a long pause, and Dream is almost ready to take it all back, but then Hob is laughing, and peppering his face with kisses, “You absolute twat,” he laughs, voice full of affection, “If you had just given me two seconds-” 

Stepping back, Hob took a moment to rifle through his pockets. Then he is taking one of Dream’s hands and bending down onto one knee. 

“I had a whole speech planned,” he says, trying to pout but smiling too wide for it to be effective. In his other hand, he is holding a beautiful wooden ring. The soft reddish-brown of rosewood, smoothed and polished, with a small chip of sapphire embedded in it, “I even went through the trouble of making this myself because every jeweler kept trying to talk me into silver.” 

Dream barked out a watery laugh, and that was when he realized he was crying. Hob giggled with him, leaning to place a kiss on his knuckles, “So. I know you asked first, technically,” he said with fond annoyance, “But I’ll say yes to your proposal if you say yes to mine,” he squeezed his hand, holding the ring a little higher, “Deal?”

There is too much love in his body, he fears he might burst with it, and so Dream thinks Hob will forgive him for the way he tackles him, toppling them both to the ground as he wraps his arms around him and kisses him deeply. “Yes,” he whispers against his lips, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Yes,” Hob replies in return, kissing him back. Eventually they pull apart long enough for Hob to slip the ring on Dream’s finger, a perfect fit. Dream stares down at it in wonder. 

“Definitely better than silver,” he teases, Hob smacking at him playfully. “I suppose in fairness I will not insist on being married in a church.”

“You are a menace,” Hob rolls over to pin Dream beneath his body.

“Till death do us part,” Dream smiles.

Hob leans down to kiss him again, “Not if I can help it.”

[coimbrabertone]

MotoGP Silly Season Predictions - Plus Larson Waiver Talk.

As recently as this morning, I was planning on this week's blogpost being about the Kyle Larson waiver situation over in NASCAR, however, MotoGP then decided to do everything all at once and launched silly season into high gear.

So, with regards to Larson, I'll just say one thing: he raced in the Indianapolis 500 competitively and made NASCAR look good mere years after Jimmie Johnson, unfortunately, struggled in a Chip Ganassi Indycar on road and street circuits - and there were a lot of jokes at NASCAR's expense after their seven-time world champion spun out every race. So how does NASCAR repay him? Utter silence over whether or not he'll get a playoff waiver.

Kyle Larson is the 2021 champion, took his car to the owner's championship final four as a result of playoff shenanigans in 2022, and then made the final four in 2023 again. He is considered one of the top talents in NASCAR and he has the results to back it up. So why is there controversy over him getting a playoff waiver for this year?

Because Kyle Larson prioritized the Indianapolis 500 last weekend.

I talked about this in my Motorsports Christmas blogpost, but the Indy 500 was rain delayed and Kyle Larson stayed there to compete, and only then he flew out to Charlotte. Now, Kyle Larson landed, was ready to get into the car, but then it started raining in Charlotte too. Just before midnight, as the track was drying, NASCAR controversially decided to call the race, thus Kyle Larson was not able to relieve Justin Allgaier in the #5 and resume the rest of the Coke 600 at Charlotte Motor Speedway.

NASCAR is mad because every other weekend of the year, they're the biggest show in racing, they can throw their weight around and try to chase NFL ratings while all other racing series are considered a niche. That's true every weekend except Memorial Day weekend, when the Indianapolis 500 reigns supreme. The whole existence of the Charlotte 600 is to compete with Indy.

Larson prioritized the bigger race and that made NASCAR made, because they're used to getting their egos stroked.

Larson is one of the best drivers in NASCAR and the double attempt brought good publicity to both sports. He had already won his way into the playoffs and made an effort to get to Charlotte for the end of the 600 - give him a waiver. If not, well, you face the possibility that Austin Cindric is in the playoffs after his shock win at Iowa, and one of the top drivers in the series isn't.

I like Austin, I'm glad he won, but he's nowhere near the same level as Kyle Larson. If he can compete for the championship and Kyle can't, then it makes the NASCAR playoffs look even less legitimate than they already are.

Anyway, that turned into a longer rant than I intended, so I'll leave it there. Now onto the main topic for today: MotoGP silly season.

Yesterday at Mugello, Enea Bastianini spent the final laps of the race charging from fourth to second, overtaking Marc Marquez for third and then pulling off an audacious last corner pass on Jorge Martin for second. This meant that Enea finished just eight tenths off leader Pecco Bagnaia for a factory Ducati 1-2.

So naturally, Ducati has decided to replace him.

Marc Marquez, who finished four and last out of these three, is going to the Ducati Lenovo Team, according to Autosport.

This was all but confirmed when, a few hours later, Aprilia confirmed the signing of Jorge Martin for Aprilia. Jorge Martin who finished third and got overtaken by Enea Bastianini in the final corner, mind you.

Now, of course, Ducati is not judging this off of one race alone and I acknowledge - as I did in two recent blogposts - that Enea has had a rotten time on the factory Ducati seat. That being said, seeing him lose Ducati to Marc Marquez, who finished last of the main three, and then lose out on the Aprilia seat to the guy he overtook in the final corner. It stings.

That being said, some news out of this weekend might offer a possibility for Enea to have a bit of a soft landing from the factory seat anyway. Let me explain:

Earlier in this weekend, Marc Marquez spelled out his demands in an interview. He said that he was not interested in going to Pramac, saying that he didn't want to switch from a satellite team (he's currently riding a 2023 Ducati at Gresini Racing) to another satellite team (Pramac runs 2024 Ducatis, same as the factory team, with factory contracted riders, they are still customers, however). Instead, Marquez said that the best option was a factory team, and if not that, then a factory bike at minimum.

Translation: Marc Marquez wanted the factory team for 2025, and if he couldn't get that, then he wanted a 2025 Ducati at Gresini, remaining at his current team.

In response, Gino Borsoi, who is the team manager at Pramac, insisted that his team had a contract for two factory-spec Ducati GP25s next year. This was somewhat of a surprise for a number of reasons, one: Ducati announced late last year that they signed Moto2 rider Fermin Aldeguer for 2025, and it seemed like the natural landing spot for him was going to be Pramac...until it emerged later on that Ducati wanted to start Fermin out on a 2024 bike. Two: regardless of which spec Ducati Fermin is going to be on, Pramac has been heavily linked to Yamaha lately.

The Japanese bikes are struggling in MotoGP right now and, ever since RNF switched to satellite Aprilias for 2023, Yamaha has not had a satellite team. Four bikes capturing data instead of two could really help Yamaha right now, so they've been linked to pretty much every Ducati satellite team the last few months. VR46 with the romanticism of a Valentino Rossi and Yamaha reunion, Gresini until they renewed their deal, and most recently, with Pramac.

Yamaha was desperate and the rumor has been that they offered very generous terms to Pramac.

So, the news that Pramac may stay with Ducati after all is a shock to the media, but it does not seem to have been much of a shock to Ducati. Ducati had been working on a way to keep both Martin and Marquez, and it seems that they wanted to offer Pramac the chance to run MotoGP's biggest star - Marc Marquez - as a reason to stay...and potentially a reason to accept taking on a rookie Aldeguer on a year-old bike as well.

Now that Marquez is going to the factory team instead and Jorge Martin has snatched the open Aprilia seat, I see an opening. Ducati can send Enea Bastianini to Pramac, keeping him on a factory spec bike while giving Pramac another frontrunning rider. Aldeguer joins as Bastianini's teammate, on a GP25 if that's what it takes to keep Pramac in the fold, because Marc Marquez will be in the factory team so freeing up a GP25 won't be as important.

What about VR46 and Gresini then? Well, I think Marco Bezzecchi's current season has been a bit of a disaster, so he won't really have much of a chance to get a factory ride next year, so staying at VR46 seems likely. Furthermore, his struggles mean that Bezzecchi probably isn't going to have much luck demanding Ducati gives him a GP25, so status quo is probably the most likely outcome there. It's unfortunate for Bezzecchi, but the sheer reality is that, with all these hot riders on the market, his options seem to be either stay at VR46, or make a more or less lateral move to Trackhouse Aprilia.

Then Franco Morbidelli, another Valentino Rossi academy product, can drop from Pramac into the other VR46 seat.

Where does Fabio DiGiannantonio go then? Well, with Marquez going to the factory, Fabio can now return to Gresini and be reunited with Frankie Carchedi. Thus, restoring the 2023 lineup of Fabio DiGiannantonio and Alex Marquez.

So, to sum things up, I think Ducati can keep all three of its satellite teams and all eight bikes like this:

Ducati Lenovo (GP25): Pecco Bagnaia and Marc Marquez.

Pramac (GP25): Enea Bastianini and Fermin Aldeguer.

VR46 (GP24): Marco Bezzecchi and Franco Morbidelli.

Gresini (GP24): Fabio DiGiannantonio and Alex Marquez.

Maybe Pramac will go to Yamaha after all, maybe my predictions will look radically wrong in a few weeks. I don't know how it'll turn out, but this is the scheme I've thought up in my mind.

I need to do something since with Marc Marquez at Ducati and Jorge Martin at Aprilia, my two favorite teams now have my two least favorite riders and I'm trying not to dwell on that part.

So yeah.

Oh, also this weekend Indycar raced at Detroit, but uhh...the less said about that, the better.

[dare-to-dm]

I'm currently playing Stray Gods, as you all dictated in my last video game poll. It's interesting. For those who don't know, it's a musical visual novel. Where the lyrics to the songs change based on which dialogue options you pick. You play Grace, a human who has recently been bestowed with the soul of a muse (from classical Greek mythology). This gives her the power to make people spontaneously burst into song about their feelings. Unfortunately, she's also blamed for the murder of the previous muse, and has to prove her innocence by finding out who really did it.

Anyway, I've just finished up Act 1, and am now going to put down my theory about who the culprit is. Theory under the cut, because I suppose it could count as a spoiler.

I think Athena committed the murder. When you ask Apollo and Persephone about it, they're all like "There's no way it's Athena! The only thing she cares about is protecting the idols and that's why she made all these rules we're supposed to follow".

But I think that's Athena's motive for killing Calliope. It's been hinted that Calliope has been pushing the other idols to change they ways they live, and I think this potential diversion from the status quo felt like a dangerous threat to Athena.

This would also explain why Athena is so hostile when she first meets you and most pushes for your death. You'd think a goddess of wisdom would care most about knowing the truth. But she sees you as a loose end to get rid of.

Anyway, if it's not Calliope then I think it's someone that we haven't properly met in Act 1 yet. None of the other characters seem suspicious to me.

I also think Pan was somewhat in cahoots with Calliope and that explains his involvement and why he's trailing you along with clues and such.

Can't wait to see if my theory is correct!

[coca-lastic]

Character: Hawks (Takami Keigo)

Warning: sugestive temes all the time, bites, reader Is not a hero, dom!reader

Hawks would have no shame in showing how much he loves you. He can't do it so openly because of his job, but if he didn't have to keep up a constant facade he'd probably walk the streets with lipstick marks and bite marks, it's not like you'd complain about creating that image.

But that is not possible, unfortunately. But it's not all bad either, you can brag that you have that whole view to yourself, you can mark it and then watch it like an artist after creating his best work, one that he is proud of and loves.

But the process, oh the process, hearing the little noises of pleasure, tickling or just happiness that come out of his mouth.

Yeah, you want to do that, after a while without doing it, without doing your works, you want to jump into your man's arms and attack him with your brush of lust and possessiveness.

And when you hear the door open you know it's time to start.

"I'm at home Dove" You hear from his mouth with a casancio tone.

You approach the entrance to see him take off his hero suit, leaving himself only in his wide, comfortable pants, thus exposing your blank page to you.

"Hey handsome, how was work?"

"Shit. All damn day there were stupid villians who don't even know how to do their job well, they just come out of nowhere to attack hoping that we'll come to the fucking rescue one more time and try to beat them as if they weren't so weak that even you could beat them up." "He said, dropping onto your shoulder and burying his face between your neck and jaw, now smiling at the harmless insult.

"hey! Asshole" you lightly hit the back of his head following the joke and pretending to be offended. All with a purpose. "You say it as if I couldn't bring you to your knees."

"Oh, really?" He poked his head out of her previous position, with a now mischievous smile. "Show me".

Is so easy. The thing is that you are happy to mark it and paint it to your liking but he is more than happy to be your canvas.

So he doesn't object when you take him to the living room couch, sit on top of him and look at him with sweet eyes and a happy smile. And he returns the same gesture, because it is more than a simple desperation to share a moment with honeyed caresses, or for what he may come next. It's the simple fact of valuing the moment.

That is exactly the reason why your lips run to his in a soft but long kiss, making you start your work now.

You lightly bite his lower lip and return to his lips a few more times, drinking in the taste of him like your favorite nectar.

Then, you decides to lower your lips to a place on his strong body, a little lower, on his marked jaw.

You leave bites and wet kisses, just so that the sensation of your actions last longer on his skin,

Then you manage to go down a little. right on his neck and the different areas of his, just when you bury your face in the area you manage to hear a hoarse laugh from the man below you and you feel how he moves his head to the side to give you accessibility.

"U looked so cute biting me and marking me like that" and you couldn't say anything else about him because the image of him with red cheeks and teeth crushing his lip was too attractive for him to want to talk.

You continued your work paying close attention to the sounds. Light "fuck" and "ohh~" could be heard every few seconds, the heavy breathing and gasping was even more constant. And it just motivates you to keep going and going.

You brought your hand to his hair, pulling it and then kneading it. While now your lips were on his collarbone and shoulders, looking for the points that pleased him the most.

"Oh god- ahh" "that tickl- wai- ugh" "right there...hmm"

Yeaaah, you loved him, it was your hobby to just ruin him.

And how beautiful it is to finish your work and see your man with bites everywhere.

On the neck, on the jaw, on the lips, on the shoulders, on the collarbone, on the pectorals and any area where you felt it would look perfect.

His hair was disheveled, his eyes moist and looking straight into yours, lips half open, hands clinging to your thighs and legs tense with an ache between them.

"And then you insult my strength when with just a few bites I can have you like this" you mocked, reaching for his lips again.

"Fuck you, but if you want I'll do it for you"

"I would be delighted, but I would like to remain the strong one today..."

Today you two would have a very very very long night.

Yei!

[pinkgelatin]

Being dads is exhausting. And how do you deal with exhaustion? Cuddles! This time with a tiny fic under the cut ❤️

Teething

Salim got up from the carpet and dusted off his knees. How in the world did the remote end up under the tv stand, he'd never understand, but that was indeed where he found it. The vcr whirred as it rewinded the tape. He hoped he'd find the moment they stopped watching the movie last night, rudely interrupted by a shrill cry and loud wailing. The doctor warned him that teething could have many symptoms, but Salim quietly hoped that constant crying and sleepless nights wouldn't be as bad as they were when the first tooth poked out. If only he knew how wrong he'd be.

This night was Jason's turn to attend to Zain when he simply refused to fall back asleep. Salim felt for their baby boy, he really did, and both of them tried anything they could to ease Zain's pain and discomfort, but with few things available, and even fewer of them working, they had only one way of dealing with a teething baby. Patience.

Unfortunately said patience has been wearing thin over the last couple days. So much so, both Salim and Jason have become snappy and irritated. Last night Jason proposed watching a dumb movie to "debrain" themselves, which Salim eagerly agreed to. Not that they succeeded. After they dealt with their little interruption, Salim ended up nodding off on one end of the couch, and woke up in the morning to Jason curled up and lightly snoring on the other.

There was hope however. While half an hour ago Zain had been crying his little heart out yet again, at this point things seemed pretty quiet. The only sound Salim could hear was Jason quietly singing a lullaby. 

Salim smiled to himself as he moved a couple of Zain's toys out of the way, then stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes for a moment, focusing more on the lullaby. Who knew Jason of all people would have a great singing voice and an array of lullabies stashed somewhere in his brain. And that Zain would react so well to them. Their boy wasn't the only one who did so either. Salim loved Jason's voice just as much, and hearing it off in the distance with a soft pillow under his head was enough to lull him into a trance. 

"Their boy," Salim's mind honed in on that particular phrase. Zain was their boy now, not just his anymore, and that made his heart swell with love and affection for the man in the other room. Jason accepted Zain as his own pretty much immediately, surprising himself most of all. He was a blessing in many more ways than one, and Salim would never be able to give enough thanks to whatever power had brought them together, be it pure chance, or something more mystical. 

He snapped back to reality when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You didn't just fall asleep on me, did you?" Jason teased, but the bags under his eyes told Salim just how much he'd like to do the same. Zain wasn't the only thing keeping them up at night. The nightmares were still vivid and frequent as well, even weeks after that awful day, and both of them had a feeling they wouldn't let up anytime soon.

"Almost," Salim stretched slightly and sighed. "Mission successful, I take it?"

Jason chuckled and gave him a mock salute, "The tiny wailing beast has been pacified with a lullaby and lots of cuddles. And that new teething gel the doc gave us. Now scooch."  

Salim felt a knee nudge his side, but didn't move a muscle. He was way too comfortable for that. Though moving could have saved his stomach and slowly scarring chest from being crushed by the full weight of an ex-Marine.

Even if Jason seemed to purposefully avoid his wound, Salim still gasped and groaned in surprise, "That hurt, habibi."

Jason simply shrugged and sneaked his arms around Salim's torso, "Should've moved."

Salim grumbled some more, but reached for the blanket anyway, and soon they were both snug and cozy. "I rewinded the tape already. I think I got the right spot."

"With how early you conked out we might as well watch the whole thing," Jason took the remote from Salim's hand and pressed the button to rewind the tape fully, ignoring any protests. 

With the most exaggerated eye roll he could manage Salim pushed himself deeper into the pillow and set his mind on focusing on the movie this time. As long as there would be no interruptions that is. He instinctively kept listening for any distressed sounds coming from Zain's room, but after hearing none he let himself relax. 

It was about halfway through the movie when he proudly announced, "See? I told you I'd watch it this time." Only he didn't get any kind of response. 

Salim craned his neck to glance at Jason's face and let out a low chuckle. 

With eyes closed, and mouth slack Jason was asleep on top of him. Probably has been for a while as well, judging by the crease on his cheek and one arm hanging loose off the side of the couch.

Salim paused the movie. The house was quiet, save for Jason's even breathing and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. Zain seemed to still be asleep, and the neighborhood cocooned them in quiet darkness, making the night perfect for catching up on some much needed rest.

"Oh well," Salim thought, and let his own eyes slip shut. "Take the little blessings as they come." They could try again tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that. They had all the time in the world.