#I hope they don't disqualify him

[atimefordragons]

if it is true that Joost punched someone from the zionist's delegation, I will use all my votes for Netherlands.

[rubys-domain]

damn, i still got a healthy amount of posts in the queue. i went a little ham in my last queuing spree huh

[pomegranatesarchive]

after that shit race, some cute drabble of giving franco some well deserved comfort? i need to give him a big hug, I felt so bad after his crash, and him at that interview. poor thing <3

franco deserved so much better!! I hope you don't mind I made this driver!reader

.

The race was very… interesting. To say the least. The entire weekend had been tough, but the race had taken the cake. Getting out of the car, you felt exhaustion catching up to you, and the last thing you wanted to do was be interviewed. 

You took your time walking over to the weigh-in, congratulating Max and the Frenchies on their wins. After the interviews, you were even more exhausted, although you knew you had something to do. 

Franco had been disqualified during the race. He was okay physically, but mentally? You had your doubts. Walking into the Williams garage, you smiled at the hardworking mechanics and engineers, before quickly making your way over to the corner, where Franco sat, his headphones covering his ears. 

You two made eye contact as you got closer, Franco hurriedly taking off his headphones as you sat down by his side. “Hi.” you sighed, tilting your head over to him. 

“Hello.” Franco tried to smile at you, but it didnt fully reach his eyes, a complete turnaround from, his attitude just a couple of hours ago. 

“You feeling okay?” You questioned. 

Franco shook his head, “Not really.”

You sighed, “People make mistakes you know? It’s your first race in the rain. Nobody expected you to be perfect.” 

Franco could only look at you with a crooked smile, “You didnt make a mistake.”

You laughed, “First off, I’ve been racing a whole year longer than you. And second of, I went off the track like five times.” You pursed your lips, “I’m pretty sure I racked up like thirty seconds in penalties.” 

Franco laughed, “Longer than Max? I’m impressed.” 

You nodded, content with taking Franco out of his slump, even if it was just for a second, “I’m glad you are because my team is not.” 

You two sat in silence for a moment, you took note of the multiple cameras pointing your way, “Look at us, bonding over our horrible races.” Franco broke the silence, a real smile pointed your way. 

“Just like old times.” You nudged him with your elbow, Franco giggled, “At least this weekend wasn’t a total waste.” 

“What do you mean?” Franco rose a brow. 

“Dude!” You whisper shouted, “You talked to Lewis like five times yesterday!”

Franco comically perked up, nodding erratically, “I forgot about that!” 

“We’ll are you going to tell me about it or what?” 

.

[kitscutie]

snow and roses: part II (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part two is here! hope you enjoy, remember requests are open and there are more parts to come :) p.s - all of the love on part one means the world!

word count: 2.3k

find part one here!

join my taglist here!

Over the past eighteen years you couldn't picture a single day you and Coriolanus hadn't spent together. Birthdays, school days, even throughout the war, you spent time together.

Today was different. He hadn't met you this morning and you couldn't help but miss his presence. His character enveloped a room, always making it clear he was there without really having to say a word. You found it comforting, others found it threatening.

The Tributes arrived early this morning and it was something you had dreaded, very soon you would actually have to meet Wovey. Mentor her, care for her, and it riddled you with guilt knowing that it was all a challenge. Her life was a challenge to you.

Coryo's presence could've softened that burden and yet, he wasn't here. No warning no explanation he just didn't show.

"Where's Snow?" Asked Arachne as you all stood outside your classroom at the Academy, preparing for yet another lecture from Casca.

"I wouldn't know." You shrugged, secretly seething at your boyfriends disregard to tell you where he was going before he disappeared.

"Oh please. You two are practically attached at the hip." Scoffed Festus. Fixing his hair in a small compact mirror which he carried around in his bag.

"I heard he's with his songbird." Mock sang Felix. Knowing it would most likely piss you off to the high heavens.

"And where did you hear that, Felix?" You asked, tilting your head in questions, eyebrows furrowed. While Felix was a tease he was not a liar.

"Lucky's newest interview. He was in the zoo with the tributes, I mean it was almost comedic. But, I've got to say the most interesting part was when they held hands." He said. You couldn't hide the anger on your face no matter how hard you tried and it was only made worse when you spotted Sejanus' sympathetic glance from over his shoulder.

"Well, he is very motivated to win the Prize I suppose." You murmured, now embarrassed, even if they weren't aware he was your boyfriend he was supposed to be your closest ally and here he was prancing around with his new decoration.

Much to your pleasure the large wooden door swung open, everybody filing into the room and taking their assigned seats, the one next to yours empty.

His seat.

Finally, minutes later he entered looking rather sheepish. If he was ashamed you were glad, he should be.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules Mr Snow." Spoke Casca. Deep down you were pleased that he had broken rules, pleading in your mind that this would prevent any further ventures. "Amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."

"Who?" He asked, stopping in his tracks as though he was insulted by the accusation.

"You. I'm moving for the Game makers to disqualify you as a mentor immediately." Casca answered. Guiltily you were happy, you just hoped your face didn't show it as Coriolanus sat down next to you.

"You said that we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away." He said leaning against the banister of your seats.

"I don't believe holding their hands was in that agreement." You snarled from behind him and you immediately regretted it as he turned to you, hurt that you weren't defending him.

"Right you are Miss L/N." Casca replied.

"Holding her hand, introducing her to people. You make it look as if were one in the same as those animas." Arachne added. You didn't agree with that, they were very much the same as us but his effort to care for her wounded you internally.

"Coriolanus didn't show those people anything they didn't already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That's why nobody wants to watch the Games, because people know deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving peoples children." Sejanus added, yet you couldn't help but feel like Coriolanus didn't truly agree, he just wanted to be let loose for his wrong doings.

"Snow fell. Down in the cage, it fell down in the cage but it landed-" Doctor Gaul appeared, frightening you and many others. She had an atmosphere similar to Coriolanus, threatening and brazen. Maybe that should've scared you more than any District Twelve girl, yet it didn't.

"On stage." Snow finished her riddle without hesitation.

"You're good at games. Maybe one day you'll be a Game maker like me." She grinned evilly. You didn't miss Coriolanus' smile when hearing this and something deep within you stirred.

"Only if the games continue at all." Casca replied.

"Oh they'll continue, with performances like young Mr Snow in that zoo. In fact I came to ask your star Mentor a question. What are the Hunger Games for?" She said confidently.

"They're to punish the Districts for their uprising. To commemorate the end of the war." Coriolanus answered thou hit felt scripted and to some extent it was. That very answer was drilled into your heads from the moment you entered the Academy.

Sejanus began to discredit the Games, calling them what they are. Cruel. Doctor Gaul didn't like that.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes, perhaps the Games time has passed." Casca said and something about it told you he was on Sejanus' side, that he didn't agree with the very games he created.

"Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something, maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings." Coriolanus spoke and you tugged at his shirt for him to sit down, to stop defending this inhumane act but he slapped your hand away. "I mean you saw those kids in the zoo, they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal." You felt embarrassed by his every word. Embarrassed by his obsession with Lucy Gray and embarrassed that he believed in these games.

"Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Asked Doctor Gaul and even to you, the answer was obvious. Everyone.

"Everyone." Answered Snow, predictable. "If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning, people need someone to root for and against. We need them to invest. If we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets." He continued his proposal.

"You forget you're talking about real people Coriolanus, not just characters in your wider game." You said, eyes cold as he once again turned to you seeming betrayed, you no longer cared.

"Look I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win peoples attention." He ignored you, instead once again talking about Lucy. You felt sick by his obsession, betrayed. How long had you been the one to care for him, to root for him and here he was digging a dagger in your heart.

"I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight Mr Snow." Doctor Gaul stated. "Perhaps your classmate can help you?" She smirked towards you in question.

You shook your head while keeping your eyes trained on the front of the room, you refused to be apart of his play for Lucy Gray's victory.

You sat alone at lunch, thinking. What was going on between him and that girl and why was he suddenly the Games biggest supporter. You understood the Plinth Prize meant a lot to him. That it would open doors but this was a step too far.

"Y/N, a pleasure." A voice you knew all too well said as it took the seat across from you.

"Coriolanus." You answered bluntly before taking another bite of your sandwich. He could tell something was off from the moment you used his full name, usually calling him Coryo.

"What was that little show back there, hm?" He asked, blue eyes a weapon as he glared at you. Something you had never been on the receiving end of before.

"I could ask you the same thing." You replied, putting your food down to glare back.

"It's a competition, Y/N. One which could change my life, I know you don't have to worry about winning but this means everything to me. You know that. I know the games are animalistic but they'll go on either way-." He defended though you cut him off.

"That's what you think I'm upset about?" You said, exaggerating the 'that's'.

"It's not?" He asked, now curious.

"I don't know, Coriolanus maybe I'm upset about you being obsessed with Lucy Gray. I mean, she's all you've spoken about since the Reaping, you held her hand! Risked your life for her!" You exclaimed in angry, drawing attention to your table.

"Oh what, so your jealous?" He smirked, clearly amused by your outrage.

"Jealous does little to describe what I am feeling, Snow. This is another level. When will you realise that that girl is using you, just as you are using her. Nothing more nothing less. I however am still here, I have been there for years, for you!" You shouted once more and he grew agitated as the room stared, grabbing your wrist with unnecessary aggression to pull your face down to this.

"Don't make a scene Y/N. You're acting like a little girl." He gritted out through his teeth.

"Fuck you, Coriolanus Snow." You replied equally quiet and with menace laced in your words. You saw his face change, as if the anger once there was replaced by a mask of sympathy. It felt ingenuine.

"Come on, Y/N. You know I love you right? I have for how long now, years." He said with kind eyes.

"Don't kid yourself." You scoffed. Though his face stayed the same his grip on your wrist tightened, leaving pink indentations.

"I love you, Y/N. Okay? Not Lucy Gray. She's my tribute just like you said, nothing more nothing less." He once again reassured, never giving up his hold.

Finally the fire in your heart gave out to him and his stupid Snow charm. It never failed to make you swoon and hearing those three words, ones you gave to each other not very often, you just wished to be in his arms.

"Okay." You retreated.

"Okay and?" He asked.

"I love you too." You answered, relieved when he let your wrist go, you were quick to move it below the table, scared to see what he had done to your wrist.

"Good. Now come on, I'm going to give some food to Lucy Gray, strengthen her, I assume you would like to meet Wovey." He said, getting up from his chair. You didn't want to meet Wovey, not really, scared to look her in the eyes. You did however want to meet his pretty little Songbird.

You walked together, hand in hand towards the zoo. He was back to his caring self after the flash of rage you previously saw. It wasn't the first time that side of him had flashed and you knew it wouldn't be the last but moments like these made it all worth it.

Your relationship was secret, but you felt no need to hide it anymore, now determined to show he was yours. Show everyone.

At first you stuck by his side, even when he spoke to Lucy Gray and you felt yourself flinch as she rushed over.

"That for us?" She asked as he held food out to her. Watching as she gave some to her fellow District Twelve Tribute, Jessup. "And who might this be?" She asked, eyeing up your joint hands.

"Wovey's mentor." He answered, without a second thought. Though when you squeezed his hand, his answer changed. "My girlfriend, I mean. Y/N L/N."

"Well Miss L/N, you sure do have the cream of the crop here with Mr Snow. He's a lovely young man." She smiled at you, you couldn't tell if it was your own paranoia telling you it was ingenuine or if she really didn't feel happy for you.

"Oh, and don't I know it." You smiled back. "You've equally had such luck I must say. He's a fine mentor." You added, patting his chest as you boosted his ego.

"Well, thank you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But uh, could you give me and Lucy Gray a moment, Mentor to Tribute?" He asked and that once burnt out flame of jealousy flickered within you as you left to speak to Wovey. You watched as they now leant against the fence to talk, lips inches away, crouched together.

Wovey was a sweet young girl, grateful as you gave her food and she shared it with Bobbin who she had been sat with, you didn't mind her sharing seeing as some Mentors has made little effort to offer any help.

You patted her shoulder through the fence, promising your support to help her reach the end of the games though it seemed she didn't care about winning and you admired her bravery.

A scream cut said conversation short as you looked to see Arachne's neck being stabbed with a smashed glass bottle. Play stupid games win stupid prizes.

You and Coriolanus both rushed over. Even if she was mean and bitchy she was your friend for the last five years and you had grown fond of the girl.

You whispered reassurances as she cried, placing pressure on her neck until you were literally dragged off of her by Peacekeepers, watching as her final breath left her body.

"No, no, no." You whispered with glassy eyes as her body became smaller and smaller on the ground - until it was too far into the distance to see.

It was clear the games had officially begun, and the tributes were winning.

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[chilling-seavey]

A request for George after his win! Surprising him with lingerie underneath your outfit when he gets back to Monaco

↳ A/N Thank you for this, anon! I know you sent it after Austria but I wasn't quite feeling inspired until the events of his Belgian weekend. I know you must have been hoping for elation but we can't have the highs without the lows. This came of it (and was a great way to purge my feelings-)

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 3.8k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, oral (m receiving, kinda deep throating?), slight cum play, desecrating items that loosely symbolize the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 team after the heartbreak of Sunday, July 28th, this is also incredibly unedited so don't come for me if it sucks LOL

George felt so out of place returning home empty handed. It was as if his mind hadn’t processed what the fuck had happened. That morning, getting into the car, his goal was a podium at best. Suddenly, he had found himself on top step of all places after a risky one-stop race he managed to pull off against all odds. Then, in the midst of his elation, the news broke that he was disqualified for his car being 1.5kg underweight. 

He could still feel the weight of the trophy in his hands, the shiny gold metal under his lips, the rapid thudding of his heartbeat in his ears as he was caught in the arms of his team. The team that had betrayed him with an underweight car and being the cause of his beautiful first place trophy to be snatched from his hands. Oh, God, he swore his heart had never hurt this badly after a race before in his entire career. Anger and sadness were a toxic, cruel mix.

It was a blessing and a curse that it was now summer break. On one hand, it gave him a good amount of time to catch his breath, recharge, and come back ready to fight. On the other hand, his disqualification left a pit in his stomach that he was going to be stuck feeling for the following three weeks until he could rewrite himself a new race. The whole flight back to Monaco, he just wanted to get home and curl into a ball and rot for three weeks. He angrily ranted in his head that he didn’t want to see another statistic, another car, another person until Zandvoort, dammit. 

But then he saw you, sitting in the warm light of the dining room when he stepped across the threshold of your modest apartment. He saw you and all the tension in his body just melted and he thanked God that you were his person he could see for the next three weeks. 

Of course, you knew what had happened. If it wasn’t thanks to the plethora of Formula 1 news and updates that were filling up your phone, it was the emotional texts from George, the tearful phone call from his drivers room, that undeniable connection you had to him that made your heart absolutely ache for him. The moment he stepped inside, you were shutting your laptop and taking the few quick strides across the hardwood floor and throwing your arms around him. 

He melted into your arms like butter.

You instinctively slid your hands around his back, rubbing along his spine, feeling him exhale in your embrace like he hadn’t been able to breathe the whole trip home. His strong arms wrapped around you tightly, burying his face in your neck with a shaky inhale as if trying to pull you into all of his senses. 

“Oh, my love…” you cooed gently, tangling your hand in the back of his hair to scratch your fingers through the roots consolingly, “You’re home.”

George held onto you for a moment longer, accepting the comfort of your embrace, “Yeah.”

You pulled away just far enough to share a fleeting chasté kiss, your hands naturally finding each others between your bodies. You pressed another kiss to his cheek as his eyes drifted over your shoulder to look across the apartment. On the console table in the living room sat his trophy from Brazil and his trophy from Austria. Beside them, the empty space looked miles wide. It was supposed to be a trio. He had made it a trio. 

He shut his eyes for a moment again in frustration and exhaustion, “I just want to sleep. Forget today ever happened.”

You studied his downcast gaze for a moment, the way he stared at your joint hands, your thumbs caressing his knuckles. In a whisper, you pitched in a soft light tone, “I was hoping we could celebrate…like we usually do after a podium or a win…”

George let out a dry laugh, “There’s nothing to celebrate, love.”

“Yes, there is.” you insisted strongly, “This is still your win, no matter what the FIA says. That��s bullshit. This was the best race of your career and you won it on your own merits.”

“What do I have to show for it?” he retorted almost sharply, as if he didn’t want to talk about this anymore, “Nothing. Lewis got his 105th P1 trophy and I got nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” you insisted, “He got your P1 trophy. It was gifted to him, not earned.”

George’s shoulders slumped, and he mumbled, “It just hurts so bad.” 

“I know. I feel it too.” you breathed, “My heart breaks for you. I wish there was something I could do to take away your hurt.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” George sighed, defeated, stepping away from you to head farther into the kitchen to fetch himself a glass from the cupboard. “The rules are the rules. It’s a brutal sport and sometimes, honestly, it’s fucking unfair. There’s nothing either of us can do to make any of this feel better.”

You leaned forward on the peninsula countertop, watching as he poured himself a glass of water. His face was still stone and flat despite the flush of his cheeks from the hurricane of emotions stirring within him for the last however many hours. He didn’t deserve this. Despite everything, you knew that there was something you could do to at least take his mind off of the chaos and upset of the day. Your lips pursed in thought and then you replied to his statement in a blasé tone, “Fine. Then I guess I shouldn’t bother with your surprise.”

He perked up a little, almost like a dog, his eyes snapping back over to you as he stopped pouring, “What surprise?” 

You shrugged modestly and took a step back from the counter, letting your hands fall to your sides, “Oh, nothing. You don’t want to celebrate so…”

“Well, hold on a second,” George put the water filter back in the fridge and closed it so he could give his full attention to you. The peninsula stretched between you, the clink of his glass on the countertop the only sound for a moment. He spoke again, eyes trained on you, “You got me something?”

“Of sorts.” you took another step away, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “I’ll show you, but you’re not up for it so…”

George’s eyes followed the movement of your hands as you started to pull up the bottom of your shirt, his eyebrows slowly raising with it in anticipation. You finally dropped your shirt to the ground, revealing the lacy teal bra you wore, the fabric standing out against your skin. Around your waist rested a matching teal garter belt that accentuated your curves, its silk straps disappearing down past the waistband of your slacks. His tongue darted out between his lips habitually at the sight of you, eyes skimming down your body as you dropped your pants and kicked them to the side to show off the matching pair of panties on your hips and the lace garters that hugged your thighs. 

“Jesus.” George exhaled. 

“An untimely choice for Petronas teal,” you said casually, your tone holding a playful smirk, “because I know we’re mad at the team right now but…maybe that just means you can tear it off me.”

He just blinked at you, “Yes.”

“Yeah?” your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, biting back your smile, fingers tracing the shape of your breasts in the cups of your bra, “Suddenly you’re up for your surprise?” 

“It is certainly a well welcomed distraction.” George replied, basically speaking to your chest. 

“Think it’ll make you feel better?” 

“Loads.”

“Where do you want it? Bedroom or…?”

George took a step back from the counter and snapped his fingers to the floor at his feet, “Right here.”

Who were you to deny George Russell a damn thing? 

You sauntered around the counter and into the kitchen where he stood, slinging an arm around his shoulders as you both leaned in for a kiss. It was quick and simple and his hands fell to your hips as your lips met again, sharing a few more soft close-mouthed kisses as if testing the waters. After a moment, he tilted his head to the side a little and parted your lips with his own before locking your bottom one between his two. 

Your small moan had him breaking away from that kiss to quickly move in for another, raising a hand up to the side of your face to hold you there. You swore you could taste the remanence of champagne on his tongue as it nudged against yours; a reminder that he was the winner through and through. In everything but the obvious, he was the winner. Your winner. 

Butterflies shot through your stomach as he deepened your kisses, resting his thumb under your chin to guide you into each one and you followed his lead with ease. The two of you fell into a familiar rhythm of lips and tongues, filling the kitchen with the lewd sound of your kisses. George’s hand was warm against the small of your back, resting there politely for a few moments, just above the fabric of your panties. 

Your hands slid down his chest over his t-shirt, blindly fisting the material with a nudge upwards to silently get him to take it off. He pulled away from your lips long enough to do just that, aimlessly letting his shirt fall onto the countertop. His eyes were already falling half-lidded and lustful, staring at you almost down his nose with this sinful expression and this bite to his swollen bottom lip that could have had you dropping your knees in an instant. Instead, you dusted a kiss to his angular jaw line, his neck, his throat; feeling his small groan under your lips. 

You kissed down his chest, between his pecs, over his abs - your hands trailing after sensually, rising goosebumps over his tanned skin. As you sank to your knees in front of him on the kitchen floor he pulled in a shaky inhale, his fingers carding through your hair. 

“My three time race winner.” you purred up to him as you slowly unbuttoned his slacks, moving slowly and sensually to drag it on a little longer, building on that anticipation that thudded warmth through his veins. “I think you deserve a reward for your performance today.”

Before he could reply with any kind of half-self-deprecating rebuttal about his unfair disqualification, your hand was slipping through his fly and giving his clothed cock a squeeze over his underwear. George withered slightly, words dying at his lips, channeling his emotions into the reassurance of your touch and how much he had missed your presence throughout the weekend. You always knew how to take his mind away from the darkest places. 

“Mm,” you hummed contently as you palmed him strongly, feeling the thick shape of him pressing against your hand through his briefs, “already getting hard for me, aren’t you?”

George breathed out a dreamy, “Yeah.”

You tugged at the waistband of his slacks a little to force him a half step closer, just so you could lean in and press a slow, open mouthed kiss to the bulge he was hiding beneath the fabric. Your eyes fluttered up to look at his face, finding him already staring down at you, and you sent him a sultry smile with your fingers linking in the waistband of his underwear

Without a word, you pulled them and his slacks down his legs, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you watched him be revealed before your eyes. You had seen him naked and uncountable number of times but in moments like that, he still managed to take your breath away. 

You left his pants and underwear forgotten around his ankles as your priority quickly shifted to something far more pressing. In a gentle hand, you cupped his balls and his dick in one go, feeling the weight of him hungrily. Your unwavering gaze stared at how he stiffened up some more right before your eyes, forcing you to habitually lick your lips. You were salivating. 

“My God, baby,” you breathed, giving him a tender squeeze just to pull a groan from his chest, “You have such a pretty cock.”

“All yours.” George replied easily, his accent thick with lust, his slender fingers still brushing through your hair. 

“All mine.” you echoed. 

Keeping his eye contact, you leaned in to purse your lips and press a slow, wet kiss right to the tip. His chest shuddered through his next inhale at your action, staring down at you wide-eyed and needy. 

You raised your other hand to join your first, using one to cradle his balls while the other held his cock steady for you to press another precise kiss to the head. Turning to press another kiss to the length, you hummed in appreciation for the warmth under your lips. Holding him tenderly in your hands, you tried not to smirk too wide at your own ridiculousness as you teased up to him, “I dunno how they declared your car underweight when you were carrying this heavy load.” 

George let out a breathy genuine laugh, shutting his eyes for a second and lolling his head back in disbelief over your corny words, “Jesus, love.”

“So delicious.” you hummed, licking your lips before teasingly lapping at the tip with your tongue, earning a tight gasp from his throat. “So, so, delicious.” 

Keeping your hands in place, you swirled your tongue around the swollen head of his cock before settling your lips around it for a soft suckle. Your eyes fluttered closed as you stayed like that for a moment, testing the waters, giving him the slightest suction and warmth of your mouth. 

“Darling-” George withered, his hand slipping to the back of your head to try and pull you deeper. 

You pulled back again, pausing just long enough to spit on it, letting your hand start to move to slick him up in it, before you answered innocently, “What is it?”

George chuckled breathily, “You are such a tease.”

You smiled sweetly up at him, keeping your hand moving in precise twisting strokes, “Does my race winner want me to suck his dick? Give him his reward for a job well done?”

You dribbled more spit onto the tip, letting your hand move a little faster. He inhaled sharply at the change in pace, fingers almost tugging at the back of your hair with need to get your mouth back on him. You held back.

“Please, love, I need it. I need your mouth.” George purred, his voice dreamy and rich.

“And you deserve it.” you reminded him.

And then you were swallowing him up in one smooth motion. 

“O-Oh, fuck-” George gasped sharply, his entire body flinching at the sudden presence of your warm, wet mouth around him. His eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched, trying to keep his composure with a stiff grunt. 

He tasted warm and slightly salty against your tongue, resting thick and heavy in your mouth. You could have stayed there on your knees with him just settled in your mouth all night but the desire to bring him pleasure outweighed your selfishness. So, you started moving in slow bobs of your head with your hand still snug around the base to keep him where you needed him. 

Up and down, in and out, slowly and surely. You kept your tongue running along the underside of his thick cock with every stroke, making sure to hollow your cheeks every time you pulled back. You knew what he liked. 

George never pushed you but he always encouraged you; his hand resting on the back of your head and following your motions to help you keep your tame pace, only pulling you along the slightest bit. He was staring down at you with a lascivious gaze, long lashes hiding dilated blue eyes, swollen pink lips parted to let out breathy gasps and soft moans. You pushed yourself a little deeper. 

“Crikey-”

His ridiculous exclamation had you letting out a small wet laugh that, given that your mouth was full of dick, sounded more like a gag than anything. His fingers tightened in your hair with a handsome moan from his chest, wanting to make you do that again. 

You slowly nuzzled your mouth farther, choking slightly on him until your eyes were watering and spit was trickling down your chin. When he reached as far as you could easily take him, your body lurched with a wet gag and you pulled away. 

“Fuck, love, you’re insatiable.” George praised. 

You took a second to catch your breath, smiling proudly up at him as your hand took over for your mouth for a moment. The slick sound of your spit under every quick pump of your palm filled the otherwise silent kitchen, luring more melodic moans from your beloved’s throat. Everything about him was perfect to you; a perfect man who deserved the entire world. When someone tried to take the world from him, you would do everything in your power to try and make it better for him. 

With a lick and a bite to your spitty lips, you dropped your gaze from his face to your hand, watching how he looked with your fingers wrapped around his thick girth. Your other hand still cradled his balls, giving them a little squeeze and caress at the same time. 

George’s free hand dropped to the counter beside him, suddenly in need of support to keep himself upright.

You giggled sweetly and leaned in to kiss his leaking tip, once, twice, and then you were wrapping your lips around it again. This time, your hand kept going, moving in firm twisting strokes in time with your mouth. George panted from above you, fingers tangled in your hair, his hips trying not to nudge into your touch at the same time, not wanting to hurt you in the process. 

But you gladly took the initiative, gagging yourself on his cock until tears were stinging your eyes and your senses were taken up entirely by him. The scent of sex lingered in your nostrils, filling the kitchen, swirling around the two of you in a salacious cloud. It was a reminder of the balance of your lust and love, the connection you shared, how you would never stray from giving him the best treatment - no matter how filthy.

George let out a string of expletives under his breath as you worked him graciously, his eyes screwing shut. You could feel how he throbbed in your hand, already so close, so you slowed a little before pulling away again. 

He groaned in displeasure at being edged but you didn’t let him linger in that for too long. Instead, you asked him, “Where do you want to cum?”

Not having anticipated that question, George’s eyes fluttered open, his eyebrow furrowed in slight confusion as he processed your words through his lust. He licked his lips, bit them, let out a little hum in thought. Then, his gaze dropped to that pretty little set you were wearing. His eyebrows raised with a slight nod towards you, “On those perfect fucking tits.”

You smiled slyly up at him and kept your hand going, “Whatever you want, race winner.”

“Jesus, you’re so good to me.” he exhaled, taking his hand from your hair to take over for you. 

You let go of his cock, spitting on it once more to make sure he was plenty wet, and for a second you just watched as he stroked himself up to that same speed you had going prior. Right in your face, his large hand jacked himself off in frustrated tugs behind heavy breaths, staring down at you with an intense purpose behind his eyes. 

Lifting up onto your knees a little more, you used your hands to push your breasts together in your lacy teal bra so it was right up close to him. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip for a moment as you just took in the sights and sounds of it, watching him use you to get off. 

“That’s it…come on.” you encouraged warmly, glancing up at his face with a lick to your lips. 

The pleasure that was rippled across his face was gorgeous, right down to the hints of pink across his cheeks that stretched down the sides of his neck and the slight scrunch of his nose. So concentrated, on a one track mind. 

“That’s it,” you repeated, looking at his hand on his cock again, in a dizzy haze at how hot the sight was. You pressed your breasts together a little more, the teal fabric standing out in the warm light of the kitchen, and you let your stream of consciousness out to get him there faster, “That’s it. Show me how you feel about your team right now…how you hate the sight of this colour right now. Come on. Ruin it. Desecrate it. That’s it, baby, come on.”

“Fuck-” George choked out. 

“Uh huh. Come on, baby. Ruin it. That’s it.” you nodded him on, speaking a little louder as his moans and gasps rose in volume and pitch. 

And then, pretty spurts of white were shot across your chest as he moaned handsomely through the kitchen. You shifted slightly to make sure he got most of it on the bra itself, thrilled on the symbolism of what he just did entailed. 

“That’s it.” you purred as he faded out of his orgasm, “Beautiful.” 

You reached up to set your hand around his on his throbbing dick, leaning in to clean up the tip with an eager tongue and a few little suckles, making him hiss in sensitivity. Your smiling eyes locked on his face as you sat back on your haunches again, wiping your mouth and chin with your thumb before your fingers were trailing through his cum splattered across your chest and you smeared it over your bra some more. He watched you breathlessly, only letting out a soft groan as you licked your fingers off. 

Without tearing your eyes away from his, you stated teasingly, “Next time we’ll break into Brackley and have you cum all over the trophy that should have stayed yours.”

George couldn’t even word a response for a second between your outlandish ‘idea’ and the fact that you took his wrist and guided his fingers into your mouth just after. His lips trying to form a reply to no avail, wide eyes staring down at how you sucked his fingers clean, before all he could do was let out a breathy huff of laughter and turn his head away from your insistent gaze. His pleasured, suddenly shy silence spoke volumes. You grinned proudly up at him. 

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[qqueenofhades]

How do we balance the tentative joy of hearing about the indictment with the overwhelming and crushing knowledge that not a goddamn thing is going to come of this and ultimately nothing will change?

Because

um

reasons.

(actually i feel like if the skies split open and shithead goes to jail it'll just leave a giant sucking void for desantis to slime his way into the party's graces and he'll charge full speed ahead into nuking this country from the inside)

Okay, look. Everyone reacts differently, we've all been through a fuckload of trauma, and all that, but I just... really don't get the pre-emptive "don't get your hopes up, nothing will happen and nothing will change." I know that people do it as a defense mechanism, but we spent months hearing that Trump would win the 2020 election. (He lost it.) Then we heard that all his lawsuits to overturn might actually work. (They didn't.) Then we heard that he wouldn't be impeached after January 6. (He was.) Then we heard that he wouldn't be indicted, and well, today, he was. This is unprecedented in the history of America. Over 250+ years, and a current or former president had never been indicted for anything. Not even goddamn Nixon was formally charged, and Biden definitely isn't gonna pardon Trump the same way Ford did with Tricky Dick. And now that someone has finally bit the bullet and gone first, there are a whole cascade of other indictments lined up and waiting to be finished.

We don't know what will happen, but something will. Trump will be arrested and arraigned, and yet again: this has never happened before. Just throwing up our hands and going "well guess nothing's gonna happen and he'll get off scot free!" is NOT the energy we want to be bringing here. It's time to push forward, make sure that the Manhattan DA, and everyone else with pending charges against him, hold that motherfucker's greasy orange feet to the fire and make him FRY. As for DeSantis, as I have written about before, he's not smart, he's not a good candidate, and his ideas are not by any means universally popular. Fascists thrive on making you feel disempowered and hopeless, so it's no use to fight them since they'll just win anyway, and all the terrible events of the last few years have made it an appealing idea, but... c'mon now.

Everyone insisted for months that Trump would never be charged with anything. But almost 60% of the country thinks that the criminal cases against him are permanently disqualifying, and this is before any major cascades. This whole "if you dare to arrest Trump, he'll win in a landslide in 2024!" psy-op is just that: a psy-op. A trick. A bluff. They're shit scared that the Big Mac God King is finally on the brink of an actual downfall and facing consequences for his actions for the first time in his fucking miserable life, and they're trying to freak us out of doing it, because they have nothing left. So I say: get him. Run him over. Then back up the truck and run him over again.

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 lando and Charles finding each other after Charles took the grid penalty, awkwardly talking with y/n in the middle

bro this ended up being so much longer than i thought but i hope its okay also its not edited i just wrote it at work LOL

"Don't," you told Lando, hand going to his chest the second he stepped out of the car. His attention had already gone towards the entrance of the garage, but you were hoping your touch would remind him there were more important things at stake here.

"He ruined my lap!" Lando exclaimed after he pulled his helmet off."

"And now the FIA is investigating it so whatever you want to say, save it."

Lando didn't know that part. How could he when he had been in the car this whole time? Whereas you saw the incident when it occurred, Charles unintentionally getting in the way of Lando's flying lap. You understood why Lando was pissed, he had a right to be, but you both knew how important Monaco was for Charles.

He clenched his jaw, taking one more look at the pit lane, knowing Charles was somewhere down there. You trailed your hand upwards, pulling his face back to yours.

"Just go do media and if you're still angry after-"

"I'm not angry it's just annoying, is all," Lando scoffed. He pulled his face out of your grasp and you told yourself his actions weren't personal, he was just in a mood.

You could have let it go, had he not muttered one last thing under his breath.

"...thinks he can get away with this shit because he's from here, he's not the prince of motorsport-"

"Hey!" You snapped, your stare narrowing into an icy glare. Even a few McLaren mechanics turned to look at you with curiosity as you were never one to raise your voice at Lando, especially during a race weekend.

Lando's features only tightened more, it was clear he wasn't about to retract his statement, even if it was said in haste.

These types of moments during the races were rare. Usually, Lando and Charles got on pretty well. They respected each other and you split your time evenly between their garages. This weekend was the only time they argued over which garage you'd be in. In the end they agreed that Lando would have you for practices and Qualifying, but it was only right you were supporting Charles in the Ferrari garage at his home race.

Not like either of them asked for your opinion.

But this stupid tunnel incident was not one you had prepared for. In fact, you, along with many other people, were convinced that Lando wasn't going to get a lap in during Q3 after his brush with the barrier last session. His mechanics were magicians, apparently, and he managed to get out for a flying lap.

You texted Carlos' cousin when you heard about what happened in the tunnel, wanting to know if Ferrari was about to go up in flames. All he responses with was Xavi didn't tell Charles to move. The investigation notification came a minute later.

So yes, while Charles fucked up Lando's lap time, it wasn't his fault. And now there was a chance he was going to have to pay the price for it. The last thing you needed was your boyfriend making things worse.

Lando stood there, waiting for you to say something, waiting for you to tell him that you were on Charles' side but you just shook your head, warning him with your stare alone.

"Save. It." You repeated.

And then you left, knowing that Charles would appreciate your support much more than Lando would right now. You hung out in the Ferrari garage with Carlos for a bit when he returned from media before someone told you that Charles was chatting with Fred back in the motorhome, a closed door meeting presumably.

Clips of Lando's post-quali interview was circulating on twitter and you rolled his eyes at his suggestion to disqualify Charles. It was a joke, a painful one with maybe an ounce of truth behind it, but a joke nonetheless.

Which was a good sign. Maybe Lando had cooled off a bit. He must have if he was able to flash a faint smile for the cameras. You had seen the interviews after horrid sessions and this was not that.

An hour went by and still no one had heard anything. The two hour mark came and went and the only text you got was from Lando telling you he swiped some cheesecake from the hospitality lounge for you.

And then at the third hour, Charles stepped out of the office and came walking down the steps of the motorhome. The lines in his forehead and his lips pressed together tightly said it all.

"Three places," Charles sighed, he dropped to the couch across from you. At this point, most of the team had cleared out but you and Carlos had stayed. Charles dropped his elbows to his knees as his face fell to his hands. "Trois putains de lieux," Three fucking places.

"I'm so sorry," you said, because what else could you say? This was his home race and he qualified third. He still had a fighting chance being so close to the front but now it was ripped away.

"I just want to go home," Charles shook his head.

"Do you want me to call maman? I'm sure she's already made dinner-"

"Have you talked to Lando?" Charles cut you off, head snapping up.

Even Carlos looked at you. He too was curious, but didn't think to ask, assuming that it was probably the wrong time.

"Not since he got out of the car."

"He'll probably be celebrating in a minute," he muttered, staring past you and out the window towards the paddock. At the same time, your phone got the notification of F1's statement. Charles Leclerc takes 3-Place Grid Penalty.

"Your penalty doesn't help him at all," this was a thin line you walked on, playing devils advocate. "He's pissed yeah, but he's still stuck starting from tenth. And now you're starting sixth, no one wins."

"Max will," Carlos whispered, and then glanced between you and Charles, snapping his mouth shut. "I mean, he probably will. We all knew this."

Charles chose to ignore that comment, standing up and patting his teammate on the shoulder as he walked past, "Good luck tomorrow Carlos. I'm sure they'll give you the fighting chance strategy."

There was nothing you could do except follow him out in the paddock. He didn't want advice, he didn't want a pep talk, he wanted to go home and be angry about this because this situation had fallen so far out of his control.

The paddock had emptied for the most part at this point, a few stragglers here and there, but most drivers had gone into their debriefs and strategy planning meetings.

Most, not all.

Because just up ahead you spotted Lando walking in the same direction towards the gates. Charles shot you a look, silently telling you not to say anything or get his attention and you nodded, not wanting to stir the pot any more.

Lando probably would have just gone to his car and driven back to his flat.

But you both watched as he raised his phone up to his ear and it was only seconds later when the phone in your hand started ringing. You didn't need to look at the screen to know Lando was trying to get a hold of you.

Hearing your ringtone, Lando stopped walking and turned around. Eyes darting back and forth between you and Charles as you both approached him.

You stood between them, you had to. You didn't know if they were blaming the other or if they were going to fight or if Lando was still angry or what. There were too many variables and for everyones sake, you made sure to stand between them.

Lando shrugged sympathetically, but his words were anything but, "You don't slow down in the tunnel, mate. Everyone knows this."

"I didn't know you were behind me," Charles retorted, keeping the tone respectful.

"There are mirrors on the car."

"But not headlights."

"You don't slow down in the tunnel," Lando repeated with a sigh.

You could hear it in his voice, Lando did feel bad for Charles after seeing the harsh penalty, but he still had a right to hold a bit of a grudge.

Charles nodded, "I am sorry, Lando."

Shocked, you stared up at your brother, wondering if you had in fact heard him correctly. Charles was apologizing? For something he had no control over? Something that screwed him over?

Even Lando was susprised to hear it, taking a second for himself before responding.

"Yeah I'm sorry too," Lando nodded, reaching forward and patting the driver on the arm. "Three places is harsh."

"They should have fined the team," Charles shrugged.

"It's the Monaco curse, I guess."

You slapped the back of your hand against Lando's abdomen and even Charles rolled his eyes, hearing nothing but curse this and curse that, especially from Arthur who was now convinced it was in fact real.

"Curse or not, we both have our work cut out for us tomorrow," Charles said and the three of you started off walking again, still with you in the middle.

You stayed quiet as the drivers talked amongst yourselves but when Lando reached for your hand you looked up at him and smiled. You could breathe a little easier tonight knowing they wouldn't hold this incident against each other.

You approached Charles' Ferrari first and he unlocked the doors, nodding his head at Lando, "Are you coming to dinner?"

Lando looked at you, unsure how to answer because this was the first he had heard about dinner, "I don't-"

"You didn't invite him?" Charles asked you, brows pinched together. Every year, you spent the evening after qualifying at your maman's place for a good luck dinner, even if good luck never followed. Charles was still intent on going tonight, and was surprised to hear you didn't extend the invitation to Lando.

"I didn't know I could," you answered honestly.

"Come for dinner," Charles told Lando, no longer phrasing it as a question. He reached for the handle of the drivers side door and then pointed a finger at the Brit, "But don't even think about mentioning the curse."

You leaned into Lando's side as Charles said he'd see you in a bit and you waited until he drove off before your tilting your face upwards.

"Thank you," you said to him.

Lando kissed the top of your head, "What for?"

For saving whatever bullshit comment he really wanted to make. For not starting a fight in the middle of the paddock. For putting his own annoyances aside and seeing Charles as someone was also struggling.

"Just, thank you," you repeated. Because truthfully, there were a lot of reasons. Too many to list.

But most importantly, you were thankful to not be forced into choosing a side.

[httpiastri]

charles leclerc x sainz!reader, 18+ mentions

charles is waiting for you outside the club once your uber arrives. it's like he knew when you were going to arrive, like he had a tracker on you – or like he was just waiting for the first best person to get his hands on.

"if it isn't my favorite sainz sibling," he says when he opens the car door for you, his handsome grin flashing down at you as you step out. "had a good day in the paddock?"

"probably better than you," you joke, your hand landing on his shoulder to give him an apologetic rub. "my brother was upgraded to the podium, but you were disqualified, so..."

"shit happens." charles shrugs before snaking his arm around your waist, leading you into the club. "my day is about to get a lot better, though."

a chuckle leaves your mouth. his fingers move up and down your side as you make your way to the bar, and charles slows down every once in a while to greet some friends and other acquaintances.

you wonder what this looks like to those who don't know. you attached to his hip, his tight grip on your side, your body leaning against his. but to those who do know, the sight is nothing strange or unusual. despite how much you both try to deny it – not only to others but also to yourselves – you're drawn to each other like magnets.

"buy me a drink, will you?" you ask.

he's facing you now, and his hand still hasn't left your hip. "no, i don't think so." you raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side at his words. "i know what it would lead to. and we both made a promise not to go there, didn't we?"

"maybe so. but..." you pull your fingers through your hair, shaking out your locks. "what if i make it up to you?"

"and how would you do that?"

you pretend to think about it for a moment, pursing your lips. "i'll tell you the color of my panties."

charles pauses, his mouth dropping slightly open as his expression grows blank. you can practically see the gears turning in his head, and you have to let out a laugh.

"oh, you're actually considering it?" you ask teasingly, shooting him a wink as he just blinks at you.

his free hand drags across his face and he drags his hand down his face. his voice is low when he speaks. "shit, you can't just say that."

"why?"

he groans and his eyes wander across the room, hoping that looking away will save his cheeks from growing even hotter than they already are. "it makes me think things i shouldn't think about. not when i'm trying to stay away from you."

your hand on his cheek makes him look back down at you. you know what he's thinking, you can see it in his eyes. he wants you – and you want him too. "you hate it, don't you?" you smile up at him. "me being your teammate's sister?"

"so much."

your hand moves from his cheek to his neck, fingers playing with the short strands for a moment. you have to step closer to reach the back of his head, dragging your hand through his digits as his warm breath fans over your face. his adams apple bobs when he gulps, his eyes hazy and gaze weak.

it's so easy for you to get to charles. you always leave him feeling weak in his knees, like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs, like the annual butterfly convention is located in his stomach.

you know he won't be able to refrain. he'll have to give in.

"this would get so messy," he says, voice low as a whisper.

the dress you're wearing is so short that charles doesn't have to reach far down to find the edge of it. his fingers pinch the material, the corners of his lips turning up when it rides up even higher on your thigh. "you know it's worth it, though," you answer simply, trying your best not to lose your cool. you don't want him to see what effect his actions have on you – you are supposed to be the teasing one.

his thumb draws circles into the inside of your thigh, and you squeeze your legs together instinctively. the action reminds him of how he's seen you before, legs clenched around him with your hands in his hair just like now, and the thought causes his brain to short-circuit (and the tent in his pants grow). he shakes his head, unwillingly pulling his hand away from you to grab your hand. "okay. you win," he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours. he pulls your hand up to his mouth to place a quick kiss on the back of it, as if to show you that he isn't actually as upset as the playful frown on his face tells you, before dragging you with him to the door again.

"i always do, don't i?"

"shut it."

"wait, i wanted you to buy me a drink-"

[carlostck]

SPOILERS! (ninjago dragons rising season 2 part 2)

I'm crying why did she grab him??? And he doesn't even resist

Also, I LOVE how they go about Arin's "betrayal" Arin doesn't like him, he doesn't want to be on his side... He just wants what Ras can give him

Very confused about the "Wu caused the merge" thing because I feel like it's more of caused-it-due-to-not-stopping-it situation rather than directly causing it? Especially because Wu was actively trying to prevent it from happening, as shown on a few occasions

In addition to that, love how Cole is shown in the series so far, just wish we got a little more of him. I know they aren't the main characters anymore but he's the mom friend and they all need more of that lol Geo and him running to the museum together is so cute awgh

Liking how this is going, the Ras situation is curious in that it seems like he was attempting to avenge his people by "controlling" the forbidden five (moreso attempted to)

The only thing I didn't like about season 2 part 2 is how they went about the Jay situation? Something about it felt off or wrong, can't place a finger on it though... I may just be stupid and it may only be me, but felt funny; like it wasn't right??

Now, questions on my mind since this has raised some: If Lloyd hadn't been disqualified for being injured in a fight (lame rule by the way, he seemed fine <3), then would he have won? And if he did, he would have to fight Sora, but I'm more curious about what Nokt would have done about it Why did Lloyd's eyes stay green after losing his power? Is it not completely lost, just limited? 'Cause Cole was still able to control the rocks due to the assistance of the elemental energy in his mother's mech, meaning they still have the connection... Which would make sense, considering all the "got my powers back" instances Oh, also they called his power "life," which I find interesting because one would assume that the Tournament of Sources would have the correct name for his power! Curious what else Lloyd can do, since I don't think he's ever really reached his true potential? (I know people consider him becoming the Golden Spinjiztu master it but that doesn't make much sense to me) When Zeatrix attacked Lloyd with the sword, was that supposed to be her literally cutting through his side? They're legos so it kinda just looked like she whacked him with a long stick, lol

Euggh I cannot wait for more I love Sora and Lloyd's relationship. Also when she said "If he (Arin) even wants to be found" I lost it because I immediately thought of Morro oops Wyldfyre sleeping with Riyu, awjwaah... I was slightly sad when we didn't get much of her and Riyu at the beginning (since the relationship just makes sense), but those little things are great I also love Frak (however you spell it) and I hope he doesn't just disappear after that

Still want to see Lloyd go ape shit please elpase pleasesplease pelasep palesepelase pleaseee

[st4rb3rries]

OMG I LOVED UR STAN AND KYLE BSF HEADCANNONS!! Can i req one with the main four, like what its like to be in a group w/ them?? have an amazing day <33

BEING IN A FRIEND GROUP WITH SOUTH PARKS MAIN 4

pairings; stan, kyle, kenny, cartman x fem!reader (all aged up 18+)

summary; chaotic friend group hc's!

warnings; cussing

a/n; hi and ty hope you have an amazing day too!!

key colors; blue= stan green= kyle orange= kenny red= cartman pink= reader

late night skate boarding with them. it's always cartman who texts you guys to go. in reality he only wants to go to just to start shit. in my opinion kenny is the best skater out of y'all. but cartman is the worst💀. "you guys you guys look im gonna go down the ramp!!" "cartman that isn't a good idea your not ready-" "WAAAAAHHHHH" laughter is coming out from you, stan, and kenny. kyle wants to laugh but he ain't risking it😭. "GAWDAMMIT KYLE IM BEAT YOUR J-" cartman stops himself because he knows damn well not to rip on kyle in front of you. so he switches up real fast 🙄. "you guys i seriously think i broke a bone" "whatever cartman you just switched up cause you know y/n would kick your ass" 5 minutes kenny is teaching you, stan, and kyle a trick. "ok so next you gotta-" "get a room lovebirds i mean come on🙄" "CARTMAN STFU!!" "yeah dude stay mad because your not psychically able to do any of this🥱" this all happens in less than 15 minutes, like why can't y'all just be a nice friend group😭. moments later stan was about to go off a ramp. UNTIL HIS WHEELS BROKE OFF THE SKATEBOARD. i wonder who unscrewed them..... "AAAUAGHHHHHH" "DON'T WORRY STAN I GOTCHU!!" and there he was, stanly marsh in your arms. "W rizz stan or nah😏" stan could feel his face heating up fr. "damn dude that should've been me not stan😔" "kenny shut the hell up💀" "wait a minute where's cartman he literally almost killed stan tf????" cartman isn't trying to get his ass kicked in front of people so he ditched and went home. classic cartman.

karaoke night. you guys are definitely singing 2000's songs. but it always seems like you guys get interrupted no matter what. karaoke night was started by cartman, which is so surprising?? "I WANNA HOLD'EM LIKE THEY DO IN TEXAS, PLEASE" "FOLD'EM LET'EM HIT ME RAISE IT BABY STAY WITH M-" stan and kyle always hating cause you and cartman sound a little too good. "BOOO GET OFF THE STAGE" "YA MY EARS ARE BLEEDING" "OH FUCK OFF GUYS LET US SING" "you guys have been singing this same song for 2 hours bruh😭" "2 minutes kenny get it right" they just hating cause they can't handle real talent. sometimes when the karaoke gets intense you guys act like judges for americas got talent💀. "is this kenny mccormick from south park colorado?" "yes" "and what will you be doing today?" "YOUR MOM AHAHA" "disqualified poor people can't seem to have talent" "CARTMAN WTF" "NEXT" "no wait i'll sing with him" "oh god" if kyle and stan think you and cartman sound a little too good. JUST WAIT UNTIL THEY HERE YOU AND KENNY. "THIS ONE IS FOR THE BOYS WITH THE BOOMIN SYSTEM" "TOP DOWN AC WITH THE COOLER SYSTEM" super bass by nicki minaj is y'alls go to song. every time you guys finish that song your out of breath and laugh so much😭. "AND THE CROWD GUYS MILD🔥" "NEXT" "cartman we are done playing americas got talent" "dude let me and kyle sing next we haven't sung at all🥹" "fine" "ah hell nah it better not be anything emo💀" *30 seconds later every one starts singing* "BUT IM A CREEP" "IM A WERIDO" "WHAT THE HELL AM I DOIN' HERE" "I DON'T BELONG HERE" suddenly the tv, microphones, and speaker goes out?? "LISTEN UP BITCHES IM NOT HAVING AN ALCOHOLIC, A JEW, A FATHERLESS DAUGHTER, AND A HOMELESS POOR BOY SING RADIOHEAD AT MY HOUSE‼️‼️" guess who got jumped that night🤔???

[arceus-insanity]

With the Series Ending

I decided to do this solely based on canon, except for F which are so bad that they transcend the rule. I also put this in the lens of do I enjoy watching them, or do they infuriate me. Most of the ones in G are there because I can't tell who they are from the picture, or are so minor I don't get why they were on the list to begin with

Hawks was the hardest to place because as I've mentioned before I love villain fanon Hawks, and hate Canon for all the missed potential and the guy being shit.

Before the last arc, Deku would have been in C, and I felt most criticisms of him were undeserved. I still feel a lot of them are dumb, however, he's canonically a hypocritical, suck-up to labels, abuse apologist, idiot, etc. As much as it feels like character assassination it's canon, same with Shoji. I also just don't care to read fanfiction of him, and feel he takes a lot of roles where other characters would make more sense. If I'm not already following someone I'm not going to read fanfiction with him in it

Most of E I hate as much if not more than F but the fandom either doesn't write about, or treat them like the pieces of crap they are, looking at Mineta of course.

Fun fact Edgeshot is in E for bringing Bakugo back, and causing me both meta and dramatic issues for me. What the fuck was the point of killing Bakugo to immediately bring him back. How the fuck did Edgeshot know he could do this? How the fuck did he know how to do this? Why the fuck is he doing this for some random teenager he has never interacted with before, in the middle of a war? And now why the fuck does this fucker get to live, no one gave a single fuck about Edgeshot but he gets to live!

Centipeder would have been in E if not for the fact I know what my ringtone for him would be, Red Flags by Tom Cardy

Uraraka owes her rank in B for her arc with Toga, otherwise, she would have been in D. For the plot forgoing her original motivations so they could turn her into a generic love interest. Toga tried talking crushes with her 'twice' everything else regarding that shit, which started before they ever met, is on her

I actually love Endeavor fanfics as most of them either a treat his abuse for what it is, or b I view them as an own on canon Endeavor and his incredible laziness and selfishness. But Twitter exists and they flock to him and his bullshit so to F with him.

Speaking of Fs, Bakugo is a whiney spoiled rotten brat with a silver spoon shoved into his mouth since birth. I hope he never breeds. Damn near every shit thing that has happened to him, was either brought on by himself, literally applied to everyone, he literally doesn't care, and even with the two exceptions I'd give this, the Sludge guy, and being chained up at the sports fest (he should have been disqualified), do not justify his shit

Congrats to Dark Shadow and Tokoyami for being the only hero (student) to make it past B

Needless to say I love villains, Dabi is by far my favourite, followed by Himiko, they are way more engaging and convincing than the heroes. And by convincing I mean it actually feels like they are going to put in effort to make their goals happen, not just wish really hard. I truly wish we could have seen how Shigaraki's goals shifted during his reign over the PLF. We had already seen how he wanted the League to be happy and an exception to his goal of destruction

[genderqueerdykes]

hi!! kinda been lurking a bit

this is gonna sound bad sorry but i dont really understand the he/him lesbian identity and similar? maybe its just the online circles ive been in, but for so long its been made very clear to me that the lesbian label just included women and nonbinary people? im genuinely here to understand because i want to respect everyone <3

(if you could tag me in the post that would be awesome, for some reason i dont get notifications when my asks get answered)

hello, sure. pronouns are not inherently tied to a gender. there are non binary people who use he/him, so i would suggest re-assessing why it is that you personally think that non binary people don't/can't use he/him. non binary does not mean woman-lite or feminine. there are masc and male non binary people, and the act of being non binary is not an inherently feminine or womanly thing. it is very transphobic to associate non binary identities with womanhood

using he/him pronouns would never invalidate any lesbian regardless of identity- he/him pronouns are not owned by any group of person, anyone regardless of identity can use he/him. someone using he/him is not inherently a man. cishet women can use he/him, trans women can use he/him, non binary people can use he/him.

every lesbian defines their lesbianism differently. some define it as strictly women loving women, others define it as having sapphic and/or lesbian attraction toward multiple genders. there are some lesbians who identify as men. whether they're only men, bigender, genderfluid, genderqueer, non binary, two spirit or any other gender, they're still lesbians if that's how they identify. it's lesbophobic to disqualify a lesbian from their own lesbianism based off of their gender identity. lesbian can mean women attracted to women only, but it can also mean a lot of other things. it's an identity that can be expanded upon. it is an identity that means something different to every single person who uses it

hope that helps

@drinkingjetfuel

[wren-dy-flowergarden]

Hello, there! Since you got the final request slot open, can I request a fluffy scenario in which Leona and his fem! s/o share a kiss in the rain. Takes place during the Tamashina Mina event. If you can't write Leona or don't know much about him, I understand if you don't wanna write him. Thank you!

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴A/N: You want fluff- I gotchu fam. Also disclaimer- I only played half of this event in Japanese and had to go find the end on a wiki page lolllll. I'm not sure if this is accurate but fluffy hehe I'm sure it is. I hope my rendition of Leona is still in character let me know your thoughts on this sweet request hehe (´∀｀)♡

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Leona x f!Reader (can be read as gn!Reader)

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴WC: 1.2k

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Tags: kisses in the rain, fluff, possessive Leona, mine mine mine, gotta do anything to win mindset, good luck rituals

The score is not looking good.

You glance around at the team. Lillia has already been disqualified for using magic, which in your understanding should have been nothing more than a penalty! Which is worse? Being disqualified or that imperial guard cracking his head on the slate after being pushed off the ring?

Vil's ankle is swelling more and more, and it further cements the idea in you that Lillia should still be in the tournament as you see Kalim ready his stance.

Jack was their third member and would have been perfect for the last round but he was already out due to a heatstroke from before.

You're on the edge of your seat as the referee calls the match for Kalim. A stroke of luck that his opponent was the bus driver they helped earlier in the week. Another tick on the board for NRC. That doesn't make you any less nervous, though. 

Grim already moved a couple spaces after you accidentally squished him too hard. That left you to fidget with the end of Leona's outfit as you tried to make plays, any plausible strategies for the last round with the players you had left. 

The fabric that ties around his tunic in golden sunset weaves through your anxiety as you fiddle.

"Nervous Herbivore?"

You jump, looking to your left where you see a Leona, his ears are perked up. Kalim exits the stage for the second time. Two small beast men jump on to clean the stage for its last round, giving you a little more time to think. 

"You're asking me that now? We have no more viable players, and you are going to stay here for an entire week if we don’t win!" You cry as the fabric strains against your pulls. "How are you not nervous?"

It seems like the question went in one ear and out the other, because all Leona is repeats with that sly grin is, "Ah~ So what you're saying is that the little herbivore will miss me?"

Bullseye. 

You stupor for a mere second. "N-No! I'll just miss Ruggie cooking extra for you." In reality, you will miss the late afternoon naps in the garden with Leona. He was like your personal blanket as he wrapped around you in the grass. You never felt better rested after a long day of classes. 

"Oh, really now?" He's closer and you feel warmer than usual even with the pockets of clouds coming in. He knows your lying.

A cough interrupts the both of you as the royal Chamberlin clears his throat, stone eyes not even remotely moving from the empty stage. "It be best for you both to focus right now."

You feel red and turn back to the stage, giving Leona a small push with your shoulder. Of course, her doesn't budge, but you can feel the pleasant hum run through his body into your own as you nudge him. You wish he stop that. "Yeah, focus or else you're giving lessons for a week at least."

Leona, with his signature smirk, lowers the mask on top of his head. You can only see his emerald eyes contrasting against gold. "Don't worry herbivore this is the last play before checkmate."

You stop fiddling with the end of his robes as he stands up, abruptly grabbing your hand leading you towards the staircase leaving the assortment of the NRC team and a few others in confusion.

"And I'm going to be borrowing you."

You hold your hands out, like a private hanger for Leona as he strips down his robes to the tunic beneath. You're a blushing mess as you see the way he slides fabric off bare muscle. He’s such a tease, the way Leona languidly slides his arm through one sleeve of the robes before depositing it in your arms.

Another piece of ornament clinks around your neck you grunt. "Is this really going to work?" Another trail of beaded gems and you swear your arms will start to buckle if he continues, "We look nothing alike ack-!"

A scarf covers your head, and you flail for a moment, before Leona hushes you, "I'm not tucking my tail between my legs and letting that prissy Vil fight with that leg." Large hands wrap the scarf a couple times around you head until you can see Leona's eyes again, "Heh- you sort of look like a wild monkey.”

You open your mouth to rebuttal that comment but the smell of fresh water touches your nose and soon your head, then your cheeks. Rain is falling.

"Ah..." Leona groans. You look up, and he looks displeased.

"What?" You ask, the tip of your lips becoming a smile. "You never told me you were part cat?"

His tail whips against your thigh and you almost drop his clothing out of reaction, "It was just a joke!"

Hu huffs, bringing a hand up to the rain. It was becoming heavier now. "There's nothing to joke about." His tail is swinging back and forward now, a frown etched on your face as he clicks his tongue. You look up into the sky and even with it raining so heavily you can still see the sun peeking through some parts of the clouds.

You blink rain falling down your lashes, "It’s kind of nice it started raining already. Like a good omen of sorts,"

He pauses. "What are you even talking about. Rain is supposed to fall for the victor." Leona crosses his arms over his chest, and you shrug the best you can with everything holding you down.

"Well, yah silly. That’s you.”

Maybe this is why he kept you so close. The way you speak your mind, unhindered by others. The way you break through walls in his life with full force. Something akin to shock is plastered on his face before it quickly disintegrates with laughter. Shoulders bobbing up and down. 

"That's some type of logic there Herbivore."

"Yes, so please hurry and go win.” You joke. The rain is seeping into the fabric around your arms and is starting to drag you down, "Especially if I have to hold this the whole match." The muffle of the announcement echoes in the stadium for the last round.

You're about to make your way inside the arena, but a cool yet warm heat enters your back as Leona holds you still. The ornamental beads trail off his mask onto your head as he tucks his head above, a warm chuckles leave his throat. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

You tilt your head upward to be met with his usual smirk. He’s playing games with you again, but you're not the type to back down.

Twisting around, still captured in his arms you look at his eyes hidden by layers of gold and precious gems hanging off the edges. "Hmmm, no you still look just as pompous as ever."

He huffs as he pulls you closer, you would be chest to chest, but you're carrying his dirty laundry- or soaking laundry. That doesn't stop you from feeling a little abashed though with the proximity. 

"Before battle, there is a tradition of sorts, beast men would receive a trinket from their king before going to battle. Sacrificing themselves for the kingdom."

"We went over this before.” You hum, "I thought you served no king?"

It the same type of rumble in his chest that you fall asleep to those quiet afternoons, "I don't."

"Well Mr. I-don't-follow-anyone, I'm not sure what I can give you." You beam. You want to make him ask for it. They were reserved for special occasions after all.

It's a quiet growl Leona makes close to your ear. The rain is slipping off the two of you, you can it dripping down his cheekbones down to you, you feel the headscarf becoming heavier as it slips of you head onto the back of your neck as you tilt you head to the side, playfully.

"Wasn't it Kifaj saying how a prince should have manners?" You ask as he digs closer into you.

"You can't deny me Herbivore." He mumbles, the strings of gems give a cold tickle on your face as he moves, he mask to his forehead exposing his face.

You laugh, he can be so cute when he wants to be. "I can you can't, but I'm feeling rather nice and I'm sure there will not wait any longer for,"me" to go on stage so just one.”

You tilt your head, and he leans closer than your lips touch. It's sweeter than usual. He tastes like the mix of hibiscus and coconut juices you have been drinking the past weekend.

It's also different from the small pecks you shared in NRC or the sessions you had when no one was watching. The chill of rain soaking you to the bone, the weight of fabric clinging to your skin wanting to drag you down if you were not careful. Leona's hand felt like fire against your back as he held you still, the other rubbing gently massaging your cheek. Gems would clink against gold in a soft chimes vibrant against the pelting of the rain on the concrete. 

He wants to deepen it, you can feel his tongue asking for permission as he swipes against your lips. To explore you deeper in a more intimate fashion compared to other times. It’s so quiet here and you almost let him if you didn't hear the microphone boom again.

NRC last contestant. Make way to the arena immediately or risk disqualification! I repeat-

You break away with a breath and Leona looks irritated as his ears twitch in annoyance. "Damn committee, can't they wait a couple more minutes?"

A laugh erupts out of you push against him escaping towards the arena, "We can continue later 'me'! Back at NRC when you win."

It's a little comedic to see a lion soaking in the rain by himself. You don't even hear him call anything back not that you needed that.

Words are useless in front of actions.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi there! So i hope you dont mind me requesting the BB league elite four members + Kieran with a disabled reader who used to be a former BB league elite four member themself (Romantic for Drayton and platonic for the others)

So basically, the reader used to be the fifth ranked member of BB league elite four but after Kieran became the BB league champion, they lost their rank to Crispin and now is the sixth ranked member. Though, they dont have any hard feelings and still see the elite four members as their friends

the reader had an accident when they were younger and now uses a wheelchair to move around. They have a gardevoir who they raised since she was a ralts and now helps her trainer with stuff (so maybe there’s something the reader needs but it’s on the top shelf, Gardevoir will then just use psychic and bring it down for them or maybe the reader wanted to try walking with a cane, if the reader fall, Gardevoir will catch them with psychic) and a Hisuian Braviary to help them get to places in the terrarium (if some hisuian pokemon still exist in this generation, who’s to say that Hisuian Braviary still exist as well)

With permission from the director, Gardevoir was allowed out of her ball to help the reader which then leads to a misconception where people think the reader is a psychic type trainer due to Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary, when in fact they’re not. They are actually a ghost type trainer but they never bother to clear the misconception bc its funny to see people’s faces when people see their ghost type team.

Hope you have a lovely day/night btw!

- 🪷 anon

Oooh in regards to Hisuian Pokemon, I have a hc that they are extremely rare and got isekai'd to the present via space-time distortion bubbles (like opposite of how Porygon and Johtonian Sneasel were transported to Hisui)

Anyways these hcs sorta took off on their own haha, so they're under the cut!

.....

Drayton

Despite being wheelchair-bound for most of your life, that never stopped you from joining the BB Elite Four and becoming the fifth ranked member practically overnight.

Around that time, you and Drayton were dating, and during his champion days, he always tried to make time for you and put his duties on the backburner.

He knows you value your independence and will only help you out with stuff if asked.

But usually it's your two psychic types that assist you. They don't battle much, but rather work as your medical support Pokémon.

Gardevoir, a sweet lass you've raised since she was a Ralts, uses Psychic to retrieve things for you that are just a little out of your reach in the store.

One good days, you could walk around with a cane...but if they turn bad (ie your chronic pain acts up) she'll use Heal Pulse as a temporary remedy.

She also pushes your chair around in case your arms get tired, taking you around to accessible spots.

Director Cyrano gave you permission to let her stay outside her pokeball 24/7 so she can properly work.

You also have a Hisuian Braviary--who literally travelled across time and space to meet you--that flies you around the Terarium, letting you climb on their back while their talons securely hold onto your folded chair.

With those two often out and about, there's a common misconception about you being the Elite Four's psychic specialist...when in reality you have a ghost type team.

Many challengers find that out the hard way when they clear your trial and send their ghosts against you....only for you to reveal your own ghostly duo that hit back twice as hard.

Drayton loves watching your matches from the sidelines and laughs every time he sees their shocked faces.

He even proposed an idea that your team should remain a mystery up until the moment of battle.

All is well until Kieran comes along and dethrones him, which demotes you to the sixth ranking member..while Crispin takes your spot.

It wasn't exactly a position you liked, since it's on the cusp of disqualifying you as an elite member.

But you weren't mad at anybody over this...if anything you had to make sure Drayton didn't get too mad at Kieran.

Eventually, though, he learns that he could spend more time with you and has less responsibilities on his plate (ofc he's still petty, as we all know during Indigo Disk).

Despite his lax personality, he wants to do all he can to support you and defend you from harassment.

This man would definitely find excuses to carry you around.

"Oh why don't cha give your Pokémon a break and let me help you over here?" He suggests and you end up accepting his offer, letting him carry you from your wheelchair to the sofa in the club room...which is literally five feet away.

Still, you let him do what he wants.

Plus getting to cuddle is a nice bonus.

Kieran

You once knew him as this sweet shy kid who used to be scared of your Hisuian Braviary, always asking if they're gonna hypnotize him.

"No, Kiki..they just help me get around places."

"...a-are you sure? Because they're starin' at me kinda weird.."

"That's how they normally are."

Plus he (like many students) falsely believed you had a psychic team when you're actually the Elite Four's ghost-type specialist.

He admired that "element of surprise" you brought to the table and dreamed of the day he could challenge you himself.

But one trip to his hometown and back later...he's suddenly the Champion, a shell of his former self, who only sees Pokémon as tools for battle.

You wonder what happened to him, although apparently he had a bad falling out with some exchange student and took his angst out on everyone at BBA.

Getting you knocked down to the sixth rank was something he never really apologized for.

Despite that, he didn't tolerate people who talked shit about you, your ranking, your medical condition, or why your Pokémon get to roam more freely than their own.

"At least [y/n] is still out there training their team every day. At least they're turning their hardships into strength. What's your excuse?"

"I-I didn't mean any offense, Kieran! Listen, I'll apologize to them and-"

"Oh, you will...after we have a battle so I can assess your strength. No potions. No moves that boost attack, speed, or defense. If you lose, you resign. You have one hour to prepare."

Sometimes, you're not sure if he's genuinely looking out for you...or if he just wanted an excuse to bully club members around.

While he's aware that Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary are mainly your medical support 'mons, he still thinks they can always try out battling.

"They could be the ones who help you climb the ranks again [y/n]. Surely you're tired of being in last place, aren't you?"

Yet the advice he believes is helpful is usually unwarranted half the time.

You could just be casually talking to a friend about how your opponent out-sped you and/or used Light Screen/Reflect...

Only for Kieran to barge into the conversation with "well maybe you should've taught Braviary Tailwind/Defog..but I guess you don't have the time for that" or something passive-aggressive that just makes you both uncomfortable.

Your psychic types are honestly annoyed by his new attitude..and you're just disheartened by how he acts around Drayton now.

You and him dating never bothered Kieran before, but now he just glares at your bf 24/7 and scoffs loudly if you're talking about anything except battling.

Despite everything, you knew he was going through something difficult, so you tried not to take his words to heart. You still saw him as a friend.

Someone who was just misguided in his ambitions.

After his humbling defeat and adventure into Area Zero, he comes back with extreme guilt, with you being the first elite member he apologizes to.

He especially feels shitty for distracting your psychic types from doing their jobs properly with his constant nagging to battle them.

But you forgive him, thanking him properly for all the times he's stood up for you.

And you do end up taking some of his unsolicited advice.

You invite him to a friendly double-battle when he returns from break and brought out Braviary and Gardevoir, using Tailwind and terastalizing one of them into a ghost type.

It turns out that whenever they're not working, they battle in perfect sync.

Crispin

In the beginning, this chef boi wondered how your two psychic types help you with your daily life, and you just explain everything as simply as you could to him during a picnic.

"So Gardevoir pushes me around, retrieves stuff I can't reach, and helps me manage my pain. Braviary just flies me around the Terarium....any questions?"

"Just one......do you use Braviary because the taxis here don't accommodate your wheelchair?" He assumes, already starting to fume. "How outrageous! That's not-!"

"Calm down, Crispy..they do. I'm just saying that I'd rather fly with Brave most of the time. It's not only convenient, but more fun for me."

"...o-oh, right. Sorry for getting all fire-up back there.." He gushes.

After learning how hard they work, he absolutely wants to make sure they're fed well everyday! Snacks alone won't sustain them. He knows this for sure.

So he's always cooking them up something, often wanting their opinion on the meals and sandwiches: are they too spicy or not spicy enough?

The same goes for your ghost types, too (especially if you have a Chandelure, Ceruledge, and/or Skeledirge on your team).

But after Kieran becomes the new champion and Crispin takes your rung on the League's ladder..he feels really awful and constantly apologizes for pretty much replacing you.

He should feel good about climbing closer to the top, but he doesn't, as he cried over the possibility of you hating him forever or resigning from the club because of him.

When you confronted him, he tried blaming the onions.

But your Gardevoir--one of the most emotionally-intuitive Pokémon out there--saw through his lie, and you had to reassure him he was still your friend.

You kept telling him you weren't mad....until you almost got mad fr because he wouldn't stop asking if you were 100% sure of that.

To prove it you, your psychic pokemon, and your ghost team all split one of the spiciest sandwiches he's ever made.

By the time it was finished, you were convinced you just learned the move Flamethrower.

Yet seeing that bright smile return to Crispin's face made it worth the agony.

Lacey

She loves hearing that you have a Gardevoir (or just cute ghost Pokémon in general).

If you have a Mimikyuu on your team, that's a plus in her book.

But regardless, she's the first to give you a warm welcome into the Elite Four, explaining the criteria and tests you had to pass in order to be accepted as a member.

Yet even outside of battle, she quickly discovers that your ghosts are still mischievous at best--always playing pranks on her fairies with moves like Phantom Force, Shadow Sneak, Astonish, and Poltergeist.

Ofc they never mean any harm, but when she hears Whimsicott squeal in fright, she's quick to come to its rescue and scold the perpetrator.

If you have a Gengar, it just laughs and mocks them both until it hears you roll up like "that wasn't very nice, y'know...apologize to Lacey and Whimsicott right now, please".

Even if it's a little defiant, a glare from Gardevoir or Hisuian Braviary is enough to make it relent and apologize.

Speaking of whom, seeing an ancient variant of Braviary did frighten Lacey upon first meeting them (especially with their hypnotic-looking faux flaming "eyes").

But over time she grows to like them, seeing how obedient and gentle they are with helping you get you around the Terarium.

If you have any decal on your chair, she'll suggest adding a few more things to make it "cuter". Like stickers of fairy types or a soft pillow for your back.

When you get demoted to the sixth rank in the League, she bought you those exact things to cheer you up, feeling bad that things turned out the way they did

But you expressed zero grudges towards anyone and appreciated her kindness.

Her Granbull always offers his tummy to you should you wanna rest somewhere--even though this makes Braviary a little jealous bc they're supposed to be your favorite resting spot.

Their rivalry is amusing, but Gardevoir often has to come to her fellow psychic type's rescue.

Meanwhile you're just sitting back and snickering at their banter, while poor Lacey begs you not to encourage this behavior.

Amarys

When you both first met, you found her personality rather off-putting, assuming she was doubting your capabilities of being an Elite Four Member despite passing all the tests.

She never seemed happy for you, her face always blank.

Growing up, a lot of people have pitied you, given you odd stares, or thought you would've given up being a Pokémon trainer...and some even asked outright insensitive questions about what happened to you--and seeing how Amarys acted kinda brought some of those ugly memories back to the forefront.

But once she realizes this, she apologizes straightaway for giving you such a bad impression, clarifying that she fully believes in your battling abilities.

Since then, you've formed a better friendship with her.

She asks you respectful questions about your wheelchair (ie if it's made from any strong alloys, how well it gets you around the Terarium's biomes, etc.) and how Gardevoir and Hisuian Braviary aid you in your daily life and listens well.

Learning that you actually battle with ghost types despite the misconception circulating around the school wasn't too surprising.

If anything, Amarys believes that was quite strategic on your part.

It's no wonder you have a lot of victories under your belt.

Even after getting demoted to the sixth rank, she's impressed you're still able to bounce back from such defeat..and that you didn't hold it against Kieran or anybody.

She believes he could learn a lesson or two from you and not take his loss against Florian/Juliana so hard...but knows that's not her place to speak.

[annacory-blog]

Fanart on fanfic - First time ever.

Well, here is the thing. I am not much a fanart person, did few in my life. But fanart for fanfic - is a complete novelty.

However when you fell in love with a relatively rare pairing, you run out of things to stare at quickly. And now I feel a need to add something for other people to stare!

This is a fanart for fanfic of @ulysses000 that can be loosely translated from Russian as "Challenges of shared living space".

Below the art is a little translation, to give this scene some context!

"Well" - Trafalgar starts with mocking tone - "I thought you would be more upset about loosing the game." Sanji hides sly smile behind the glass of wine.

"I think you didn't get it, benet. Who have lost? This was a clear win. At least for Luffy. Who cares if we were stripped of all the points and disqualified?!"

"You have lost. Just accept it." Sanji makes another sip. His eyes remains locked on eyes. They are full of challenge, unknown trepidation, ocean of confusing playfulness.

"Then maybe you'll allow me to smoke in the room as a consolation prize?" - he asks. Glass of wine put aside with almost no sound, and Sanji moves tiny bit closer.

"No. " - Law replies with a smirk. Feeling other's warm palms gently pressed to his arm and chest.

"Pretty pleeeease" - Sanji begs. Voice pleading, sweet. Fingers slightly tighten, - "We didn't get an S rank just now, only because my body impitoyablement demands nicotine."

"No." - Law stretches the sound with pretence arrogance, putting his empty glass aside too.

"May be you can… I don't know lift me outside the window, so i can smoke? You did it during the game, haven't you.." Trafalgar immediately gets what younger is talking about. He snickers with closed mouth, happy his abilities were praised, alas slightly overestimated.

"On the game I haven't lifted you, I have lift your load bearing vest. I can only move inanimate objects."

"Et alors? I am sure you can come up with an idea. Je ne veus pas descendre... Cent pour cent porter will get mad. She'll get that i am drunk…" Law thinks if there is actually anything he can do. There is one option, but older man utterly confused, why he is even bothered with nearly childish demands of the blond? Why him being unnecessary tactile and shamelessly occupying Law's bed, is not at all irritating? On a contrary feels natural. It might be the alcohol. For sure it is alcohol!

"That depends to which extend you are willing to go for a single smoke…" - Trafalgar's voice is sinister, but Sanji, nevertheless, perks up with the hope. Blue sphere covers their dorm room, and butterfly knife slowly creeps out of backpack pocket and jumps to Law's hand.

"I can cut off you head." - he suggests. Blue eyes shining in a soft light of a table lamp. Sanji smiles with half mad smile, almost as a serial killer, or a drug addict on his high - confident.

"Go for it." If only for his own comfort, Trafalgar throws one leg over and sits on Sanji's laps. One hand holds head, lifts it slightly to expose refined neck. Vein pulses under soft, translucent skin. Law swallows nervously. Sharp knife pressed to the skin while he considers best trajectory for the cut.

"Are you not scared?" - Trafalgar asks. Question mostly directed to him self, as he feels suddenly confused, thoughts scattered.

"Nope." - Sanji's eyes are half opened, relaxed. - "I know you wouldn't kill me."

[oconist]

I posted a note saying how bad I feel for Esteban but how glad I am he's leaving Alpine (meaning to say that I hope he goes to a good team) and a good friend of mine replied with "yeah I don't like him, bad driver, agreed" and I have no idea how to respond to that... I'm a new F1 fan so no stats ready but I DO know he's not a bad driver but all I can talk about is his background growing up but IDK I need help responding pls?

hi!! same sentiment here, hope he has a contract but glad he left that toxic team.

he's not a bad driver, despite what people say. if u check his stats in feeder series like f3 n gp3 he was a consistent driver that was usually in the podium. if you check his early f1 stats, he had good first full year in force india (points in every race except a retirement and a p12) and was usually close to checo in the standings (if he wasn't being disqualified or had retirements) or his other teammates (last year with 6 retirements vs gasly's 2 and like a 4? 6? point difference)

the year with the biggest position difference is 2020, covid year, in which esteban had not raced in an f1 car for a year against dric who had already a year on the team.

most people think he's a bad driver because of the collisions he has been in, specially with his teammates, but only two of them have been fully his fault (a collision with perez and now in monaco with gasly). the problem is the people he gets in collisions with, and the reason why most people are quick to blame him. drivers that, as usual, blame the other before checking the on-board after the race (which is normal behaviour btw and totally expected, it's weirder if a driver doesn't defend themselves) but ocon never really defends himself, and his biggest/most memorable crashes are with drivers like checo, alonso and verstappen that have big diehard fanbases.

it's true that his style is agressive, but he has also proven he is a team player when needed (defended gasly in australia 2023 after the crash, does follow team orders on the radio, not to mention that he has never talked badly about any team nor teammate he has had and is always cheering the team up on the radio [radio this year after alpine sucked, he was the first to open the radio and cheer the team up, while gasly said the car sucked (true)]). people forget that your teammate is your first rival, but ocon doesn't and unless he is told otherwise, he races them as if they were any other driver. and he normally is on par with his teammate, so of course there are going to be fights between them.

most of the time he does deliver with his overtakes and defense. he is good at managing tyres (record for longest stint in c3 tyres in baku, turkey 2021 where he didn't change tyres, alpine relying on him to manage tyres for all their one pit stop strategies all these years) and good at qualifying.

also, he has never been in a good car, either backmarkers (now and his first half year in f1) or midfield cars and yet he has a win, a 2nd place and a 3rd place. he is consistently in the points if the car allows it, has been praised by prost and is a good test driver and at giving feedback.

i hope the reason why he left alpine is because of the disrespect he has been put through and i really hope that he has a contract for next year. i have never seen a driver been more attacked by his own team (rossi, bruno, otmar) than ocon in the recent years.