#I’d be a great asset to the team
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boldlyvoid · 8 months ago
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I’ve spent enough time maladaptive daydreaming about being in acotar that I think my power would be to look at someone and know their entire lineage including who their mate is supposed to be and the possible children. I would love to be able to see family trees
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jimothytimothymiller · 12 days ago
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i want to make a spreadsheet using trade information to calculate the fair market value of draft picks in each round and then use the year over year decreases to determine the average interest rate but unfortunately i have to do my JOB instead
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cottonlemonade · 5 months ago
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Congratulations on your milestone Sunny 🎉🎉🎉🎉
I adore your writings so damn much 😭❤️❤️❤️
For the event, I take Menu A with ramune and dorayaki and sit next to Matsukawa Issei ❤️
Have a great day 🫶🏽
The Dare
word count: 551 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.
pairing: Matsukawa x chubby!Reader
genre: suggestive fluff
warning: suggestive, mdni
request: fluffy, detention with rival Matsukawa
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Issei looked out the window of the empty classroom. The sun started to set, gently illuminating his large frame.
“Do you ever think about how when you’re eating watermelon or grapes with seeds you’re eating the fruit’s sperm?”
You closed your eyes and groaned.
“Just shut up, Matsukawa. I prefer my detention in silence.”
“Why?”, the boy asked, “You got things to think about?”
He smirked and bounced his eyebrows twice.
“Shut up.”, you said again, warmth rising in your cheeks.
“So I touched your boobs. It happens.”, he shrugged nonchalantly as if this was an everyday occurrence.
“Matsukawa, shut. Up!”
“Dunno what you’re embarrassed about. They’re really nice. I’d recommend ya.”
Your pencil case zoomed through the air and hit him square in the face.
As he rubbed his stupid forehead you tried to hide the very obvious tomato-hue that had taken over your cheeks.
Only half an hour earlier you were coming out of the shower after practice with your team and were rummaging through the locker for your clothes.
The other girls suddenly started to screech and you turned around in terror just to see the idiotic middle blocker from the boy’s team stumble through the group of girls. The floor was wet from them all just finishing their wash up, making the tall boy flail. He tried to hold onto anything. Anything at all. Unfortunately, one hand grabbed your towel, yanking it down, while the other got a good hold of your breast.
For an endless moment time seemed to stand still before you exploded. Your colorful outburst must have echoed through the whole school. Alerted by the commotion, your coach immediately gave Issei detention for two weeks and you had to join him for the day for the use of insults sailors would envy.
Issei picked up your pencil case and brought it over to your desk. He crouched down, folding his arms on the tabletop and resting his chin on his hands. He regarded you squintily.
“Do you hate me now?”
“I already hated you.”, you noted immediately, very much avoiding his eyes. You could still feel his large calloused hand on your skin and you would have sworn under oath that he even squeezed your breast once before letting go.
“You know, your chubbiness is one of your greatest assets here. They felt extra soft.”
“Freaking pervert.”, you scoffed, praying for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.
“Hey, it wasn’t my idea to grope ya.”
“Sure.”
“It was a dare, you see.”, he sighed dramatically and straightened, “I was forced to do it. - Not the groping part but the going into your locker room and running a lap while you guys were changing part.”
“Or what?”
“Or what what?”
“What would have happened if you hadn’t invaded the girl’s locker room?”
Matsukawa crossed his arms thoughtfully.
“Makki would have called me a coward.”
You rubbed a hand over your face in exasperation.
“Listen, y/n-chan-”
“Do not ever address me again, got it?”
Matsukawa looked down at you - you followed his eye line.
“Oh my god, you pervert! Stop staring at them!”
“I’m sorry I can’t help it!”
A detention supervisor came in just as you were using your backpack to hit his arm, earning yourself a second day of detention with him.
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a/n: thank you so so much for your request and sweet words ^^ whenever I write for this man something just… goes terribly wrong xD I hope you enjoy this chaos 🌟
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reidsdimples · 7 months ago
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Strictly Professional | Part 1
Spencer Reid x Reader
18+🔥
You’ve been hooking up with your coworker Spencer Reid. Does the rest of the team know? 👀
After a long case, the two of you can’t keep your hands to yourselves.
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“Dr. Reid, a minute?” You ask him as the team makes its way into the bullpen. The flight from Seattle was long and everyone’s ready to wrap up their paperwork and get home.
“What’s up?” He steps aside into the small kitchen with you.
“What was the true probability that Morgan wouldn’t have had to shoot that unsub?” You ask him.
“Given his devolution, the desperation of being trapped, and the lack of control he had, he wasn’t coming out of that apartment alive. I’d say based on what we know, only about a 5% chance of one of us not having to shoot him,” he answers quickly.
“Right,” you sigh.
“We saved the girl, it’s still a victory,” he places a hand on your shoulder. The touch diverts your train of thought to him, to the electricity that just surged between you.
He meets your eyes and swallows hard before dropping his hand.
Those hands, those damned hands. In the last month they have been all over your body, his long fingers inside of you, down your throat, pinching your nipples…
“Reid, Y/N, a word?” Hotch pulls you out of your thoughts.
Did he know what the two of you had been doing? That two of his agents have been sleeping together secretly? You look to Reid whose face gives nothing away. He wouldn’t show concern, he’s way better than you at masking things from other profilers.
Shit shit shit.
Hotch leads the two of you to his office, JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss exchange looks of curiosity. Your heart hammers in your chest, heat creeping into your throat and ears.
He doesn’t know, there’s no way he knows. You two were careful.
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“I got a complaint that you snapped at one of the witnesses,” Hotch starts with Reid.
Relief floods you but worry for the verbal beat down creeps in. Reid had snapped at a witness, right next to you.
“And you didn’t tell me it escalated,” Hotch turns to you.
“Sir, I…” you stammer.
“That witness was out of line, Hotch. She agressed us first,” Reid reasons.
“And as soon as Reid got snippy, I shut the interview down,” you bud in.
Reid grips one of the arm rests and you remember that same tight grip on your ass. You jolt upright and adjust in your chair, catching Hotch’s attention.
“Reid you are brilliant and you are an asset to this team but you have to be more patient with these people. They are victims too,” Hotch leans on his desk and crosses his arms. “Y/N, you did the right thing by shutting it down but next time run it by me so I’m not blindsided by a complaint. Understood?”
You both nod.
“If it happens again, I’m documenting a disciplinary action,” he says with finality. Reid clears his throat, red on his cheeks.
You both stand in unison which Hotch takes a mental note of.
“Great work this week nonetheless,” Hotch says as Reid gets the door for you.
Leaving his office feels like stepping out of tar, you slow your breathing and purposely walk away from and ahead of Reid.
Shit. Hotch is reading the two of you, he’s picked up on something.
An hour passes and no one on the team has left, everyone still lost in their paperwork and conversation with one another. It’s one of your favorite things, time together after the storm of a case.
You leave your desk to go to the restroom before heading to the intel room to grab some more files which are kept in a large closet connecting to Garcia’s office.
You’re fumbling through paperwork for a while, taking out boxes and placing them on one of Garcia’s desks. You make a mental note to clean it before she gets to work in the morning.
You turn suddenly at the feeling of a presence behind you at the entrance to the closet.
“Shit Reid, you scared the hell out of me,” you sigh.
He’s leaning against the door frame, watching you with a conflicted expression. Strands of hair fall around his face, messy and untamed. He’s removed his cardigan and rolled up the sleeves to his light colored button down. It the dim light he looks gorgeous, mouth watering even.
“You think Hotch is onto us?” he steps forward and pulls the closet closed behind him.
“It’s possible,” you answer honestly.
But then he’s right on top of you, his fresh scent invading your lungs, his body heat warming you.
His hand grips your hip, pulling you closer to him as he starts to nip at your neck.
You pull on his waist band, need buzzing between your thighs. These meetings, these moments where heat and need build to an impossible level are what you live for.
“Then we better be quick,” he snakes a hand up to your jaw and kisses you quickly, desperately.
You’ve never done this with so little people in the office, what if they notice your absence? What if they notice both of you gone together? You’re about to say something when you become aware of the taste of him, his cock straining against his pants, and just how acutely you need him inside of you.
“This is a bad idea,” you hum while hurriedly pulling his cock free from his pants. You pump it slowly, causing him to grunt under his breath while he hikes your skirt up.
“I’ve wanted to do this since you put this little skirt on,” he smiles and rips your panties to the side. You giggle but bury your face in his chest so the sound doesn’t travel.
He sinks a finger into you, his finger immediately soaked and it pleases him. He bites his lip knowingly before pinning you against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he says when you screw your eyes closed to revel in the moment he enters you.
He stretches you around him, gravity forcing you all the way down onto his cock. You grip onto his shoulders as he starts to move, one hand on your hip, the other in your hair. The tip of his cock strokes the nerves inside of you so deliciously that your eyes roll back in your head. It had been too long since you had him and the possibility of getting caught is a thrill that heightens the experience.
“So good,” he whispers, sweat beading on his forehead.
The sounds of him moving inside of you and both of your controlled panting brings you to your climax fast and hard as he continues his rhythm into you. He’s focused, he knows exactly what you like and how to get you to cum for him. That eidetic memory will not let him forget precisely what you like.
“Reid,” you whimper and he clamps his hand over your mouth. You bit into his palm as you clench around him and he fucks you through your orgasm.
“That’s right, keep coming on it,” he urges. The low moans in the back of his throat are ecstasy and you know you’re going to cum again.
He drags his cock out and pushes back in, torturously slow. If he had time, he would tease and drag this out until you were crying. Your legs shake around him as he hits your gspot repeatedly, now rushing the two of you to finish before you get caught. Fuck.
“You’re going to finish with me and then you’re going to go back out there and pretend you aren’t filled with my cum,” he growls against your ear. Your nails dig into his shoulders and you can’t take it anymore.
You come undone around him in waves as he pumps you deep and fills you with his cum. He shudders against you, steadying himself on the wall. His cock pulses inside of you and you’re reeling with pleasure.
There’s no time to revel in it though because you both hear Morgan and Prentiss talking outside of Garcia’s office.
He jolts back, you drop to the floor and pull your skirt down while he fixes his pants. Both of your are panting but trying to control it. The room is hot and alive with what just happened.
“Go out there,” you shove him. “Wait look at me,” you say. You realize that you left a claw mark on the side of his neck, the scratches angry and red. So instead you rush into Garcia’s office from the closet just as Morgan enters it.
“Reid in here?” He asks when he only sees you in the office chair with a folder. You’ve stopped breathing. You hope your hair doesn’t give you away.
“I think he’s in there looking for a file,” you say quickly.
“This the one you need?” He asks Morgan, handing him a file.
“Yeah,” he takes it and turns to leave. “Come look at this,” he tells Reid to follow him.
Reid glances at you with a small smirk as he follows Morgan out of the room, one hand resting on his neck to cover your scratches.
Fucking hell, you’ll never get enough of him.
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gothamite-rambler · 6 days ago
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Harley applies to be part of the outlaws
Harley: I'm glad you could all be here today.
Jason: You just walked into my house without knocking.
Jason pointed to his front door, which hung precariously off its hinges. Roy and Artemis sat beside him on the couch, exchanging glances.
Harley: I scared off the Jehovah's Witnesses, though.
Artemis (interrupting Jason): Thanks for that. They won't leave anyone alone around here.
Harley: That’s what I’m here for—getting rid of nuisances like that. And I think I could be a valuable asset to the Outlaws team. I've come to apply for the job of Outlaw. Here’s my resume.
Harley handed Jason a neatly typed resume on pink paper. He accepted it reluctantly, unsure what to make of it—or the fact that a convicted felon had a resume.
Jason (exasperated): All you’ve listed under former employment is "former henchwoman" and "current therapist/psychologist." You’re not even licensed anymore.
Harley (pridefully): I’m a traveling therapist! No license needed for that. Besides, BetterHelp said I’m a shoo-in.
Jason: I’m conflicted about that last part, but I’m not hiring you. I don’t even hire people.
Harley (pointing at Jason’s teammates): Are they getting paid?
Jason (annoyed): We split the money, but that doesn’t mean—
Harley (interrupting): Artemis, Roy, do you get paid after a mission when it’s a job well done?
Roy: Yeah, Bizarro and Kori do too.
Jason (angry): I hate you.
Artemis (crossing her arms, enjoying this): He also gets us a meal afterward.
Jason groaned, burying his face in the resume.
Harley: Okay, so why can’t I get hired? And I’m not listing the Joker as a previous employer. Sure, I did some goonin’ after leaving him, but… come on, it’s the Joker. We all agree—screw the Joker.
Harley fell silent, glancing around expectantly for support. Her spirits lifted when she caught sight of Artemis nodding in agreement.
Harley: See? Artemis agrees. I also listed a bunch of skills and included some solid references.
Jason: Ivy, Clayface, and King Shark are not what I’d call “great references.” Is Bruce’s name on there?!
Harley: Yes, yes it is! You can call him, too. He’ll give me a glowing recommendation.
Jason glared at the pink-printed resume, frustration bubbling inside him while his friends eagerly waited for him to make the call.
Jason: I keep glaring at this paper, but it won’t burn!
Artemis (amused): Well, we’re not doing anything until you call him.
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captainmartin20 · 14 days ago
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If it's true that Napheesa wanted Kate from the start, I don't even know why people are debating her spot in the league. She was chosen by the owner and one of the best players in the WNBA saw something in her. Kate earned her spot on a back-to-back championship team because she's good at basketball, but people are acting like she’s nothing. She played a huge role in IOWA's success, and I’d even say she was as important as Caitlin to that team. Take Kate out of the UConn game, and they don’t advance at all; take her off that team, and they don’t make it to back-to-back NCAA finals. She’s not just Caitlin’s buddy. In the first and only game between the Aces and the Fever where both got playing time, Kate even outscored Caitlin.
let me kiss ur brain, anon. you explained it perfectly.
so let me jut add:
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i saw the tweet and i don't think that journalist/analyst would lie about something like that. i think phee knew early on that kate would be a great asset in their new league. the "top 30 players" selling point should've been thrown out the window a few couple announcements ago lol. not sure why people are acting surprised now
aside from being a good player already (thee aces drafted her and she kept her spot on the roster), kate was probably eager to get more minutes anywhere and improve her skills in the offseason. so once the opportunity presented itself (thank you phee), she probably didn't think twice. other players might've already signed to other leagues/might not have wanted to play 3x3 basketball in the offseason...
and lastly, kate has a fanbase that not only exists online (her announcement post literally garnered one of the highest engagement across all platforms. the likes on her post on insta exceeded 24/26 of other announcements), but she also has fans that are willing to travel to watch her play, and buy her jersey (one of the top selling jerseys in her rookie season. no i will not let yall forget about this). these days they could slap kate martin's face or name in something and there will be people out there who will buy it (me).
bottom line is: even if kate isn't in YOUR top 30, she's in phee's and stewie's top 30 :)
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jamdoughnutmagician · 1 year ago
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A Cut Above The Rest
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Mechanic!Eddie x Fem!Hairdresser!Reader
Will You Be My Girl? (Part 10) FINAL PART
Summary:Things are starting to look up for you as the prospect of a new job comes your way, and the boy of your dreams has one final surprise for you (sorry I suck at summaries but I didn't want to spoil anything!!)
also I highly suggest listening to this just so you can imagine the same thing I imagined when I wrote a particular scene.
Thank you so much to everyone and anyone who read and enjoyed this fic. Writing it was at times very challenging but it warms my heart to know that even a small handful of people liked this story. 🧡
Word Count:1,988
<- Previous Part
Masterlist Series Masterlist
It takes you about an hour and a half to drive into Indianapolis, the sounds of Shania Twain’s ‘Come On Over’ album filtering through your car’s CD player as you pull up outside of the salon in the centre of town.
The exterior of the building already looks way more fancier than any other establishment you’ve ever set foot in, never mind worked in, with colourful lights and flowers decorating the windows.
You pick up your portfolio from your passenger side seat and make your way to the salon. You push through the door, with a chirpy bell ringing above you as you do.
You approach the front desk where a young girl with long, dark braids greets you.
“Hello, Welcome to Blossom Studios, how can I help you today?” she smiles, her pearly teeth shining between glossy lips.
“Um hi, I spoke to Madison Martin on the phone a few days ago, I have a meeting with her today.” you say confidently.
“Ah yes, of course! You must be Y/n? I heard Maddie talking about you. Right this way.” she smiles as she brings you through the salon’s already busy floor to a small room toward the back.
The girl knocks on the door,
“Hey! Maddie, your girl is here.” she shouts.
“Thank you, Naomi, send her in.” comes the voice from behind the door.
Naomi pushes the door open for you, and ushers you into the small back-room.
A woman with her glossy strawberry blonde hair styled back into a sleek and professional ponytail stands up to greet you.
“Hi, I’m Madison, you must be Y/n, right?” she smiles as she extends her hand for you to shake.
“Yes, that’s me.” you nod politely as you shake her offered hand.
“Well, we’re a bit short staffed at the moment, and we are looking for people to work here on a more permanent basis, and when I saw your advertisement in the library, I thought I’d take a chance on you.”
“Well I’m very glad of the opportunity.” you smile. “If I may, I’d like to show you my portfolio?” you say raising the black ring binder in your hands.
“Of course, I’d love to see your work.” she returns as you hand over your folder.
You sit quietly as Madison begins to leaf through your folder, looking over the pictures of your work, as well as reading through your resume and cover letter.
“I see that you're a very accomplished stylist, and have a very well-put together portfolio. If you’re willing, I would love to ask you to be a part of our styling team.” she smiles brightly handing over your portfolio back to you.
“That would be amazing! I would love to” you cheer.
“That’s wonderful news, of course for the first two weeks, we’ll have one of our senior stylists shadow you, and show you how we do things around here, but I think that someone like you could be a great asset to our team” Madison praised.
“Again, thank you so much for this wonderful opportunity, I promise I’ll give it my all.” you reassure her with a confident smile.
“I’m sure you will.” she shakes your hand once more. “You start Monday at nine o’clock.”
“Nine o’clock it is, I’ll see you then. Thank you again.” You smile brightly as you gather your things back up and make your way out of the Salon.
You get back into your car before breaking into a small victory cheer, thinking how things couldn’t have gone any better for you. 
You reach into your bag to pull out your phone, immediately wanting to call Robin to tell her the good news.
The line rings three times before she picks up, her voice already eager to hear what you had to say.
“Well? Did you get it? Did you get the job?” she babbles out.
“I got the job!” you tell her, beaming with happiness and a wide smile spreading across your face.
You have to hold your phone away from your ear slightly as the sound of enthusiastic screams from your best friend echo down the line.
“I knew you would get it! I told you!” she exclaims, with a cheerful laugh. “Get back here and I’ll treat you to a celebratory drink in The Hideout!” 
“You’re on, Buckley. I’ll see you there.” you say as you end the phone call and begin to make your way back into Hawkins.
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“Right, I just got off the phone with Y/n” Robin says, pulling Eddie closer. “So that gives you about an hour and a half to make sure everything is ready to go for when she gets here, okay?”
“Relax, Buckley. I know the plan. I worked it out myself, I’ll have you know.” Eddie replies confidently.
“Okay, so when she gets here, I’m going to bring her in, get a drink with her at the bar, and then you and your boys are on, got it?” She reiterates the plan once more, going through it, making sure every last detail goes as it should.
“Got it.” Eddie nods, his shaggy curls bouncing as he does, before turning to go set up things on the stage.
“Oh! Eddie?” Robin calls out to him. “Good luck.” she smiles giving him a thumbs up.
He rewards her with a thumbs up of his own before setting up the stage with the rest of Corroded Coffin.
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You walk into the already busy and bustling Hideout, and surely enough Robin is there to greet you with wide open arms.
“There she is! The girl of the hour” she smiles, bringing you into a squeezing tight hug. “I knew you’d nail it”
“Thanks Rob!” you nod.
“Now how about I buy you a celebratory beer?” 
“Sounds perfect to me.” 
You take the time to enjoy a quiet drink with your friend on a Friday evening, catching up with each other, and just talking about everything and anything.
“Y’know, Eddie’s performing with his band in a bit, shall we head down to the stage to watch him?”
You can’t help the butterflies that flutter in your stomach at the mention of his name.
You link your arm around Robin’s and make your way over to the seats in front of the stage.
The guitars, drum kit and microphone stand are already wired and set up, as Eddie and the rest of the band make their way on to the stage.
He looks every inch the rockstar you know he is, with his beloved Dio vest thrown over a dark Judas Priest t-shirt. Ripped black jeans and a pair of black DMs complete his look.  He saunters up to the microphone as he slings his crackled red and black guitar across his body.
“Good evening everyone!” he shouts out to the small gathered crowd, earning him a few cheers “I hope everyone’s having a great day! We are Corroded Coffin, and tonight we are here to make your Friday a little bit more metal.” he rasps as he leans into the microphone with a slight chuckle.
Eddie and the rest of the band launch into their set list, playing a few songs from Black Sabbath, Motörhead, and Metallica. His voice is perfectly gravelly and low as he plays along with the rest of the band perfectly.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to change things up a little.” he says putting his electric guitar on the stand and reaching for his acoustic guitar and taking a seat on a bar stool that had been placed on stage.
“I’ve recently had someone very special come back into my life, and she's amazing, and beautiful and if I'm being honest, totally out of my league..” he chuckles, earning a few laughs from his audience “so I'd like to dedicate this final song to her.”
The rest of the band take a backseat, as Eddie takes centre stage with the spot-light hitting him, illuminating him in a soft golden glow. 
Eddie’s fingers start to pluck the strings of his guitar in perfect rhythm, and suddenly you find yourself turning to Robin with wide eyes when you immediately recognise the opening notes of Whitney Houston’s Saving All My Love For You.  Your favourite song. The song that you had shared with Eddie all those years ago.
Eddie’s raspy voice joins in, the song being slowed and pitched down slightly, perfectly arranged and to fit the slow romantic vibe of the song.
You watch him intently, with the biggest smile on your face, and when his gaze catches yours in the middle of the crowd he gives you a small wink and a smile, letting you know that he sees you, and every word he’s singing is meant for you and nobody else.
The song ends, and applause is heard all around as Eddie puts his guitar down and leans into the microphone one final time.
“Thank you everyone, you’ve been a wonderful audience, and you guys enjoy the rest of your evening.” 
You turn to Robin as you watch Eddie make his way off stage.
“I’m gonna go see him.” you smile before running off to find Eddie.
“Go get your man, girl!” you hear Robin cheer as you 
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“Eddie!!” you shout out as you sprint your way to him before colliding your body with his and wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you can manage. You feel him return your affections as he slips his arms around you and places a kiss to the crown of your head.
You pull away from him, although you find his hands holding their place on your hips.
“You sang my favourite song.” your voice comes out as no more than a whisper as your emotions catch up with you.
He’s bashful under your gaze, his cheeks blooming with a pink flush. 
“I did.” Eddie nods. “There’s this girl I really like and I kinda wanted to impress her.” he chuckles, as his eyes flick down to your lips. “I also wanted to ask her if she would be my girlfriend.” he flashes you that cheeky boyish smile that you’ve come to love. “So, Y/n, Sweetheart, will you be my girl?”
“Yes!” you smile up at him, your heart bursting with love.
“There’s another thing I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Eddie nodded as he looked at you with those beautiful, big brown eyes.
“Oh?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You rise up on your tip-toes to meet him, kissing him with a soft peck to his lips.
“Indeed you can.” you smirk at him, as you pull away from his lips, only to feel him pull you close to his body.
He presses his lips against yours, one of his hands holds steady on your hips and the other weaves its way into your hair, as he kisses you with all the passion that he has for you. Warmth bloomed in your chest at the gentle brush of Eddie’s lips on yours. Kissing him made you feel dizzy, like a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Kissing Eddie just felt right. Like you were always meant to be together like this.
You part from his lips breathlessly with a smile.
“In case it wasn’t already obvious, I love you, have done for a while if I’m being totally honest.” Eddie confesses, his lips curling up in a matching smile.
“I love you too, Eddie.” you nod, taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I love you a lot, actually.”
When Eddie had helped you after you had broken down on that cold and rainy road on the outskirts of Hawkins, fleeing from heartbreak, you never could have imagined that it would lead to this, but you’re glad it did. Forever thankful to your metal-head in shining leather who helped fix your broken car, and helped to mend your broken heart. 
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@penguinsandpotterheads @slutty-thevampireslayer @xxhellfirebunnyxx@mmunson86 @avalon-wolf @ali-r3n @jesssssmaybankk @munsonology
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disruptveyouth · 2 years ago
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SHUT UP & DRIVE
0 - you’re on your own, kid
summary: a deal is offered, unwanted memories resurface, and god damn why do women have to do everything themselves???
WC: 6.2k
warnings: angstttt, google translated French, mentions of Horner lol
a/n: buckle up besties
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‘I looked around in a blood soaked gown and I saw something they can’t take away.’
“You’re a phenomenal driver, a real up and coming talent. We see great potential in you.” 
Normally, you wouldn’t believe a single thing to come out of Christian Horner’s mouth. But this, what he’s saying now, you can get behind. 
“That being said, we’re willing to extend an offer for a one year contract to have you race for Red Bull in the upcoming 2019 season alongside Max. We think you’d be a huge asset to the team.” 
You want to scream ‘what’s the catch?’ because there has to be one, right? Your rookie season driving for Toro Rosso was a good one, you favored better than rookies in the past. It was one of your strengths as a Formula 1 driver, the ability to mount pressure on your shoulders, bear it all, and come out shining like a diamond. But are you really that much better than your teammate Pierre, can you really fill the large shoes left behind by Daniel? 
What price will you have to pay for the risk Red Bull is taking choosing you?
Silence sits heavily in the room like it��s its own entity, taking up too much space, making the area feel too tight. You’re going to say yes, you and your team knew this was coming, it’s no great shock. Yet, it feels exactly that. Your fingers tingle, your throat dries, and you find it incredibly hard to focus your vision, everything appears slightly fuzzy and distorted. 
You want this, you’ve always wanted this. A chance to drive for Red Bull meant a chance to collect enough points to be a true contender in the World Drivers Championship. That’s every driver on the grids dream, to hoist the trophy, to read your name in big, bold font above everyone else’s. 
It’s so close you can taste it, right on the tip of your tongue, sweet and addictive. 
You want this. So, why can’t you reach out and take it? 
A extra pointy heel digs its way through your shoe under the table, the plastic sting of breaking skin clears your vision almost instantly. You don’t need to look beside you or down to the ground to know who’s heel has punctured you, Liz has taken a habit to wearing sharp shoes and aiming for your big toe. 
‘Waking you up’ is what she calls it. 
‘Borderline torture’ is what you choose to coin it. 
But, she knows you better than anyone else. She sees the signs and she knows exactly how to pull you out of a hole before you’ve buried yourself in too deep to crawl out.  Without her and her Red Bottoms, there’s no way you could have made it here. There’s no way, without beautiful and terrifying Elizabeth Canton, that you would be sitting across from Christian Horner, forming a wide smile and saying,
“I’d love nothing more than to drive for Red Bull in 2019.”
——
The Red Bull racing headquarters in Milton Keynes is nothing you haven’t seen before. Being a member of Toro Rosso gave you grand access to all that was potentially waiting for you, just a few rungs higher on the ladder. It’s been dancing across your fingertips, just out of reach. The sparkle of promise began to dwindle after the first few visits, but the gleam never completely faded out. There’s a different power bouncing against these walls now as you make your way through the various halls, taking your time to soak in the history and the future portrayed before you. 
To know that now you walk these halls as more than just a maybe, it brings something better than a twinkle of light and hope. It’s like an electric current that runs through you, hot and fast and thrilling. And you haven’t even sat in a Red Bull car yet. 
Time doesn’t matter, other people don’t matter. In that moment, it’s just you and the thrill and-
And a solid, warm chest that you round the corner directly into. Hands reach out to steady you but, before you can register the feeling of them against you, they’re pulled away. Your eyes collide with Max Verstappens unmistakable blue ones, closer and clearer than you’ve ever seen them before. 
That’s not entirely the truth though, is it? You have seen his eyes this close, even closer than they are now. All these years later and you can still practically feel the tingle and hints of warmth that his lips left behind on your skin. You hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t felt it, in a very long time. But with him this close, flooding your scenes with his scent and his smile and him, the memory is all you can seem to conjure up in your mind.
“This place is insane.” You grinned as your fingertips traced the delicate wallpaper lining the hallway you slowly walked through. The house of one of your friends from your karting days was bigger than the entire neighborhood you’d grown up in. It stretched for acres across the lush, green fields of Southern France. 
“It’s very .. bold.” Max kept close behind you, watching the way your eyes soaked up every inch of the environment surrounding you. 
“Bold? That’s the word you choose to describe this?” You gestured to the long hallway with its rich colored carpets and fancy crown molding. It was an unusually warm winter day in that area of France, a fresh, crisp breeze traveled the corridors of the mansion through various open windows. “It’s beautiful.” 
“It is.” You shifted your eyes to Max who was still looking at you, not at all as entranced by the ornate details of the home as you were. Sixteen years of life and you’ve never been looked at the way that Max looked at you then. It filled you up, stuffed you like a teddy bear full of cotton and comfort. You were young, too young to understand love but, what floated between you and Max was what you imagined love to be.
You leaned your back against the wall, submerging yourself in his stare. There weren’t a lot of times where you and Max found yourselves completely alone. With your racing careers, the words free and time weren’t necessarily within your vocabularies. And that little free time you did have was rarely spent together since you lived in different countries. That moment together felt rare, that moment felt right.
Max leaned against the wall beside you, close enough to reach out and touch.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked quietly, trying not to burst that bubble of peace you found yourselves in. You couldn’t gather enough courage to tell him the truth, to tell him you were thinking about how much you wanted to kiss him, to hold his hand, to be around him constantly. You were so sure he felt it too. You were so sure you saw a spark in his eye when he looked at you. You thought he reserved a certain tone of voice for you, one with coated with care. You truly believed he had a smile, one that only touched his lips when he saw you.
You were so, so wrong.
Words were the hardest puzzle to solve in your mind, actions somehow seemed easier. You leaned forward, slowly inching your way into his space. Anticipation thrummed in your chest, a feeling you equated so naturally to the moments before lowering yourself into a race car. It fueled you, shot through your veins, had you leaning deeper and deeper into him until his lips were a whisper away from touching yours. 
“Y/N.” He breathed out, the small call of your name drew a shiver from somewhere deep inside you. 
Without another thought, you connected your lips. And he kissed you back. Hot, liquid lava flowed through your veins, melting you against him. It wasn’t your first kiss but, it felt like it should have been. No kiss you had before could compare to that feeling.
Before you could register it, Max pulled away. You blinked slowly up at him, still a little dazed and unsteady under the new warmth that flooded your system.
“I’m sorry.” Max said before clearing his throat and straightening. A piece of your heart cracked then, a piece so small that you couldn’t feel the pain of it breaking just yet. “We shouldn’t have done that.” 
“What?” You straightened beside him.
“That was a mistake.” His eyes darted to the floor. A breath lodged itself in your throat, leaving you nearly gasping. “I don’t-“ Max scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.” 
“What do you mean?” You asked. You knew what he meant, in that moment where all the warmth drained and you were left with the cold reality of his words, you knew exactly what he meant. But, you also needed to hear it. Because maybe you were wrong, maybe one of the best moments of your life wasn’t about to turn into the worst. 
“I don’t like you like that, Y/N.” He spoke through a tense jaw. You shook your head, stepping backward slightly. 
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” 
“You-“
“Why would I lie? Why if I liked you and I could have you, would I lie?” He released a deep exhale and shook his head, still avoiding your glassy eyes. “This isn’t what I want. You’re not .. good enough. You’re not it for me.”
You’re not good enough. You’re not good enough. You’re not good enoughyou’re not good enoughyou’re not good enoughyou’re not good enough-
Those words clung to the air in between the silence in the hall as you turned away from him, from your friendship, and walked out of that mansion in France. They clung to you as you returned home from your trip and got back to training. They clung to you the first time you saw Max again at one of your F2 races. They clung to you as, instead of smiling and wishing you luck, Max turned away from you and didn’t look back. 
Those words clung to you even now, many years later, as you found yourself still vibrating in his presence like a kid who thought she knew what love meant.
“Verstappen.” You try your best to sound as unamused with his presence as possible.
“Still on a last name basis, are we?” His voice doesn’t hold any malice, it’s teasing in a way that makes you want to grind your teeth together. You roll your eyes, fighting against the grin pressing at the corner of your lips. “Well I believe now the proper greeting would be something along the lines of ‘hello teammate’.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s what we are now .. teammates.” The word doesn’t taste as bitter on your tongue as you hoped it would.
“Teammates and ..?” He raises a brow.
“And ..?” You raise an eyebrow back.
“Friends, Y/N, we’re friends.” A twinge of annoyance flashes across his face. 
“Oh,” you cross your arms over your chest. “So now you want to be friends?” His features soften, the veil of annoyance stripped away at your words. 
“Look, Y/N-“
“We do not need to have this conversation right now.” You take a quick glance around the hidden second floor hallway of the racing headquarters, thankful for all the attention being drawn to another level of the facility for the day. The more you thought about it, the more you didn’t want to have that conversation at all. Max rejected you. Then continued to act like nothing had happened, other than choosing to keep you at more than arms length away for the rest of your youth.
You had been heartbroken, yes. But overall, it hurt more that you lost a friend.
The longer you stand there, so close but still so far from him, the more you start to believe that being teammates with him will only make things between you worse. You’ve managed to stay civil, exchange encouraging words at times but, that was it. It could have been so much more. But, he made it clear it never would be.
When you turn to walk away, a hand claps around your own.
“I think we do.” Max closes the small gap of space you extended when you went to leave. “I’ve thought about it, for so long. And I’ve prepared-“
“You prepared?” You raise your eyebrows with a mix of amusement and horror. 
Max just shrugs. “Always good to be prepared”
“Right, well ..” You don’t give him a chance to continue with whatever he prepared to say to you if this moment ever arose. You can’t imagine he would somehow manage to break your heart again but, you certainly won’t be offering him the opportunity on a silver platter.
“It doesn’t matter what car I’ll be in,” you continue, tilting your chin up at him “or what you are to me, a teammate, a friend … I’m prepared to kick your ass this season. See you on the track.”
You step around him and make your way back toward your team, faintly hearing (and completely ignoring) Max mutter something along the lines of ‘we have to train together before that though’.
Conversation over.
——
You should have known right away that this wasn’t going to end well. When you took a glance around the group and realized you were alone in a circle made up of older, white, rich men, you should have known where this would head. Maybe you did, realization sat heavy in your stomach like a stone, but you chose to ignore the gut feeling. You chose to tuck your shoulders back, straighten up and plaster on that smile. That smile reserved for these kinds of men, the sweet and innocent and ever so fake smile. 
“I don’t suppose you could share with us how you pulled this one off?” A deep, grainy voice has you blinking away the glaze that was coating your eyeballs. 
“Sorry?” You clear your throat, still blinking rapidly in the direction. You try your best to ignore the rise of the man’s eyebrows, the presumptuous gaze he holds over you.  
“How did you manage to secure the seat with Red Bull Racing?” 
The strung out smile across your lips falters, you feel your muscles twitch downward involuntarily. A quick glance around the circle has your face falling more, you hold the genuine attention of all these men surrounding you. They’re curious to know too. Isn’t it obvious though? You earned the seat through hard work and good results for Red Bulls sister team, your talent spoke for itself. 
Didn’t it?
“Well, I assume based on what Christian has said, that it was because they saw potential in me. They believe that I could win a WDC.” You make an effort to keep your voice strong and sturdy under the heavy weight of their stares. A chuckle brakes out amongst some of them, a light and short burst of amusement. Like they know something you don’t. 
“You don’t suppose it’s because you’re a woman?”
“A-“ your voice cracks then, the pressures mounting mounting mounting and you can feel its crushing power against your throat. “A woman?”
Another chuckle. 
“That’s what you are dear, correct? You certainly look like one.” His gaze drops down your body quickly then slithers its way up and you’ve never been so mad about looking so good. At the beginning of the night, when you shimmied that tight dress on, the one that hugged your curves, extenuated your best features, made you feel beautiful, you knew you looked good.
Now, all you feel is wrong.
“Yes, I am.” Your face burns, so much that you have to physically stop yourself from pressing the cold glass of champagne you’re clutching to your cheeks. “And why would that matter?”
“Sweetheart.” the man tsked and shook his head.
“One would think Red Bull may see it as an advantage. To draw attention. To create a spectacle.”
“You know, sponsorships, brand deals, reputation, matters almost as much as racing results. Maybe even more.”
“With a female driver, Red Bull is basically opening up the doors to infinitely more financial opportunities.”
“It’s not like they need help winning races, not with Max showing the promise that he is.”
“Did you really think the reason was different from simply that?”
They were all speaking now, different voices, different insults, all being fired off from one mouth to the next all in your direction. All of it, all of those words and the different tones they spoke in, boiled down to one simple message: it was never about your driving. And it never would be. 
This misogyny is not new. This sexist attitude toward women in Motorsport doesn’t sting like the fresh cut of a blade against your skin. Instead it aches and burns like a deep wound that’s never healed quite right. One that every time it’s pressed, reminds you of the pain of experiencing it for the first time. 
You can’t let these words burrow into your skin no matter how strong and sharp are. Not when you’ve spent the past year fighting in the trenches to prove that you’re just as fast as any man in a Formula 1 car. You are more than your face and curves and your gender. You are your heart and your brain and your skill. 
You can believe it all you want yet, somehow believing that no one else ever will hurts more. 
“And why can’t it be both?” You hear yourself asking this group of men, these so called supporters of your team. “Why can’t I bring Red Bull good publicity and win them races? Why because I have long hair and prefer to have my nails painted does that make a difference? Why because I have a vagina does it mean I can’t be capable of having that kind of success?” 
You’re panting now, you hadn’t meant to say any of that, let along raise your voice while spilling it out. 
“Oh God ..” you breathe, still trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry, I-“ you break off in another small gasp, words suddenly appear foreign and jumbled in your brain. As the silent seconds tick by, the darker your vision and your thoughts and your future become. 
“I’m sorry.” You mutter one last time before you bolt. 
The path to the exit is nearly clear, only a few bodies hang in the space between you and the fresh air you desperately need. The chatter and commotion of everyone else in the venue is nothing more than background noice to the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears. You aren’t paying attention to anyone or anything other than escape, you certainly aren’t hearing the calls of your name from close behind your heels. It’s only when a firm hand catches your elbow, halting you in place, does reality suddenly shift back into view.
“Where are you going?” Liz’s normally warm tone feels like ice against your skin. You knew she’d be pissed if she thought you were trying to ditch, especially with all the responsibilities you hold tonight, especially when you promised her you’d find her if you needed an out. This definitely looks bad, you can tell by the way her features are taut when you turn to face her. It is bad but, you can’t let her know that. 
“Just need some air. I’ll be back, I swear.” You can tell the sentiment passes directly through her. She only crosses her arms in response. “It’s the truth!”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Y/N.”
“Nothing!”
“Y/N-“
“Liz, please!” You snap your mouth closed after the sound of your plea echoes around you. Again, you hadn’t meant to raise your voice but, the emotion is clawing its way up your throat, desperate for an out. “I can’t be here right now.” You say in a much quieter, not at all composed tone.
“You have to be here. This is your job.” Liz keeps her voice lowered too but, it holds no softness, only a distinct sharpness you’ve become accustomed to understanding meant nothing but business. Liz is a woman but, she is not a coddler. She is not a mother who rocks and hushes, she’s a competitor who will pry and push because she knows it’s exactly what you need to succeed.
Look where she’s gotten you.
“Don’t you think I know that?” You step closer, holding a hand against your heart beating rapidly inside your chest. “But I can’t stand around and try to convince these people I’m someone that I’m not.”
“No one is asking you to do that.” Liz’s face softens, sympathy bleeds through the cracks of her tough facade. 
“Of course they are. Smile pretty but, don’t be too bold or else you’ll seem too cocky. Act innocent but, not too innocent or else you’ll seem naive. Show some skin but, not too much or else you’ll be asking for it. When had a man ever been accused of any of those things?” 
“You wanted this, Y/N. To be a woman in Motorsport, to show everyone that gender doesn’t matter. That anyone can drive if they have the determination to do so.”
“Yes, I wanted to drive. Not to play pet. I am me and it is becoming alertly clear that’s not enough.” Your fist clenches so tightly at your side, you can feel the half moons your nails are pressing into your skin draw blood. All of whatever face Liz puts on during work hours has disintegrated into a look of pain and understanding. 
“Go,” she motions to the door only a few feet from you two “be back before your speech.” You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and turn for the exit. “But, Y/N.” You look over your shoulder. “Know that you will always be good enough to me.”
——
“30 minutes in and you’re already trying to make a run for it.” Max’s familiar voice startles you slightly. You spin around to see him sauntering his way over with an easy grin, looking effortless good in his suit. For a split second, you let the sight melt your frozen core. Then as soon as the split second passes, it’s frosted over again. Because of course everything is so effortlessly easy for Verstappen. 
“I wish.” You grumble, turning yourself back around to the view of the lake under the glowing moon. “I just needed some air.” 
“Mind some company?” His voice is much closer now, just over your shoulder. You suppress a shudder under his presence, the warmth of his body heat close to your own. 
The truth is that yes, you do mind company. In this moment, you want to be alone. You want to wallow and sulk and maybe cry until it’s all out of your system, until you can confidently walk back into the venue with your head held high and your confidence back where it should be. 
But you can’t get yourself to form the words to tell him to leave. Instead, you find yourself shrugging, feigning indifference. 
“Won’t they miss you in there?” You ask after a few seconds of nothing passed between you two other than the breeze shaking the bare branches of the trees around the water.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Max replies, both of your bodies stay facing forward. The wind picks up, brushing some hair off your shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its chilly wake.
“I doubt it.” You glance towards Max just in time to catch his eyes darting away from you, away from your skin. The goosebumps certainly do not go away after that.
When Max’s gaze find its way back to yours, you don’t shy away from holding his eye. Something has come loose inside you, a bolt or a screw jarred of its axis by those men in suits who talk as if they truly know you. Normally, you wouldn’t let yourself bask in the light and warmth of Max’s stare, you’d ignore any pulse of feeling that grew stronger in moments of closeness like this. There’s a reason why there’s been so far and few since that night all that time ago. 
Tonight, you find your walls already cracked, already unsteady. They’re breaking and it’s dangerous and you know that. Yet, you stand in front of him and hold his eyes and feel the vulnerability threaten to shatter you. 
“Can I ask you something? And can you be completely honest in your answer?” You lower your voice, keep it soft like the words passing between you are too fragile to be spoken at a loud volume. 
“Of course.” If Max is uncomfortable with the eye contact you’ve maintained, he doesn’t show it. Instead he draws his head a little closer, listening intently.
“Why do you think Red Bull asked me to take the open seat?” 
Confusion twists his features, his eyebrows pull in, his noice scrunches slightly. He doesn’t answer right away and you can feel yourself, in those fleeting seconds of silence, regretting asking him at all. It must make you seem weak to not have an unshakeable sense of confidence in who you are. It must make you seem foolish to seek the validation of your future teammate who, when it comes down to it, will be your fiercest competitor on the grid. 
“Because you’re an amazing driver.” Max says, like it’s obvious, like that was the easiest question he’s ever been asked. And you can’t deny the rush of affection mixed with relief churning in your chest at the response. 
“Am I?” You whisper, your voice hallow and weak against the strength of the winter wind. Max’s face softens before he reaches a hand out to touch your shoulder. “Don’t answer that.” You step away, down closer to the edge of the water. You can’t let him touch you, you can’t let him look at you with empathy and care and something else you can’t quite place. If you do, you’ll break. 
Why are you doing this? Why are you allowing yourself to spiral down this hole when you have dug and dug and dug until your hands were raw and your fingers bled, until you were finally on an even playing field? This can’t be how your stint at Red Bull Racing starts, this infection of self doubt with do nothing but spread until it’s taken you whole. 
“Y/N ..” You hear the crunch of Max’s dress shoes under the dead grass behind you moving closer. Enough of this. Enough of drowning in this feeling of uncertainty, it’s time to sink or swim. 
“I am a woman.” You spin around quickly toward Max. He blinks in surprise as he pulls his hand back down to his side. 
“Yes, you are?” 
“And I am a great driver.” You have to stop yourself from stomping your heel into the ground. 
“Yes, you are.” The corners of his mouth turn up, just the slightest bit. 
“And those two facts can coexist.” You feel your mouth curving up too though you don’t mean to do it. “And Red Bull can want me because I am both a woman who is paving a path for other women to be in Formula 1 and because I can win races and become a World Drivers Champion even if it means beating you!” 
Max’s eyebrows are raised, his lips pressing themselves into a thin line, and you can tell he’s fighting for his life against a rush of laughter threatening to spill out at your little burst. But he doesn’t laugh, he just nods and breaks out a wide grin. 
“I will gladly agree with you and accept that challenge.” 
You tilt your head to the night sky, releasing all the tension in your shoulders and sign. It feels good to get it out, to speak a truth you know so deeply in your bones. You belong here. And it certainly doesn’t hurt to have Max there, standing by you, agreeing with you. 
One thing you know about Max is that he doesn’t do something unless he truly means it. He’s fiercely loyal, honest to a point of almost rudeness but, reliable in a way that feels safe. What you see is what you get. 
Maybe that’s why it hurt so much when he told you he didn’t want you that night. Because as you knew all too well, Max doesn’t do something unless he truly meant it. 
That doesn’t matter now, though. The time for mourning the possibility of something between you has come and gone. A new era is upon you two, one of teamwork, possibly friendship. Something that could turn out great. 
Or so terribly bad. 
——
The crowd of the gala and their loud conversing was unchanged when you return into the venue, almost as if your absence didn’t send everyone into a discombobulated frenzy. What a shame. Regardless, you and Max blend seamlessly back into the masses just minutes before you’re supposed to make your speech. 
The lingering chill of the winter weather clings to your skin even inside the warm venue, surrounded by the heat of bodies and laughter and booze. Even as the seconds tick by, you shake underneath the silk of your dress. It would probably be proper of you to admit that what you’re feeling is not cold but, rather dread from knowing what’s to come. 
There are a lot of people in the room. A lot of important people who should mean a lot and do mean a lot to you and your team. Some of which had already heard plenty from you tonight. But, that doesn’t matter now. This is a new chance, a fresh opportunity, to show everyone that whatever preconceived notion about you they have was wrong. 
“Où étais-tu toute la nuit?” Where have you been all night? Arms wrap themselves around your shoulders from behind, pulling you back into a sturdy chest. One small inhale of a familiar spicy scent is enough to have you melting back into him, into the comfort of his hold. Pierre’s love language is touch, you found that out quickly after joining Toro Rosso. 
“Why are you so cold? You’re shaking.” He murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down your bare arms. 
“I was outside with ..” You turn your head back toward where Max is, or was, only to see his back retreating away toward a group of people on the other side of the room. 
“With Max? And you did not manage to kill him? I am proud of you.” Pierre smirks as you look back at him, causing you to roll your eyes and playfully smack his arm. 
“I’m as surprised as you are.” You chew on your bottom lips as the moments you spent alone outside with Max flash through your mind. “It was actually kind of … nice.”
“Wow, who are you and what have you done with my friend?” Pierre raises a brow and takes a cautious step backward, as if you’re suddenly contagious. 
The confusion of what happened outside mixed with the anxiousness of your impending speech is brewing into a dangerous concoction inside you. 
“I’m nervous.” You tell Pierre in a quieter, more serious tone. You didn’t want to talk about Max anymore or whatever transpired between you. 
“You’ll be brilliant.” Pierre’s smirk dampens down to a sweet smile. 
“Everyone expects something different from me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or who I’m supposed to be to please everyone.” You grit your teeth against the feeling of a fresh well of tears gathering in your eyes. 
“Mon ange,” Pierre rests a hand on your arm, squeezing it gently “you do not have to be anyone but yourself. That is plenty good enough.” You place your hand on top of his, hoping the contact will allow you to transfer the words from his mind directly into your bloodstream. 
“What am I going to do without you next season?” You chuckle softly, blinking back tears for an entirely different reason now. You and Pierre’s friendship has blossomed during your time at Toro Rosso. Though you know you’ll always still mean something to each other, to not have his constant support and companionship will feel like a brutal punishment you don’t deserve.
“Oh, mon ange, you will most certainly suffer greatly. And I will be sure to blow you a kiss as I pass you on the track in your fancy new Red Bull car.”
You’re about to bite back with a grin on your face when you hear the distinct sound of feedback from the microphone on the stage. All of the fear lingering inside you swarms up your body and settles in your chest. Pierre rests a gentle hand on the small of your back as your attention is drawn to the front. It’s time.
Somehow, by way of a miracle, you manage not to hurl on your shoes while you patiently wait and watch the various presidents and CEOs of sponsors speak. They express their love for Red Bull, their appreciation to be a part of the organization and their excitement with their investments in the teams future. Which you happen to be a very big part of. God, you might just crumble up and die at this point. Can you really do this?
“Thank you, everyone again for all of your commitment to our program, to the members of our team.” Christian Horner smiles against the microphone and holds a stage presence like no other. You desperately wish you knew his secret, his key to appearing ever cool and confident. Maybe too confident. 
“As the Team Principle for Red Bull Racing, I cannot be more excited for what’s to come. I know I say that before the start of every season but, this time I really mean it!” Laughs radiate through the venue. “No really, we have a great engineering team building us a race winning car and a driver lineup that can undoubtably deliver us results. In fact, we are introducing a new driver to our team this year. Up from our sister team, Toro Rosso, this driver has significant potential. We’ve seen her do brilliant things in her rookie year and look forward to standing by her when she accomplishes more in a Red Bull Racing car. Everyone, please extend a warm welcome to our newest driver, Y/N Y/L/N.”
The steady, loud sound of clapping and cheering surrounds you on all sides. Some turn to face you, Pierre included, his own prideful smile in place as he applauds you. You send him one last grateful look before navigating your way through the crowd toward the stage. You keep your hands in fists by your side, holding the shivers of nerves and to your surprise, excitement, at bay.
Christen extends a hand and helps you step up the small steps toward the stage. With a deep breath, you take the microphone from his hold with a smile. Christen offers you one back with a small nod before stepping to the side, letting the lights pointing on the stage swallow you and only you whole. Behind the glaring yellow light, you can hardly make out the faces of the crowd but, in the back of your mind you’re reminded of just how many faces there are, their focus solely on you.
“Thank you Christian for your kind words. And thank you to everybody at Red Bull who believed in me enough to offer me this opportunity. I could not be more grateful to be here. I think it goes without saying but, I’ve wanted to drive a Formula 1 car for as long as I can remember. And to now be given the chance to do so with such a legendary team, I’m honored.” You adjust your slick palms on the mic and take another breath.
“I am not the first female Formula 1 driver. There have been many amazing women to proceed me in this sport and I would not be here if it were not for them. If I hadn’t gone to the tracks as a kid and saw girls racing among all those boys or turned on the TV and saw women racing, and winning, against those men, I would not have believed it was possible for me to do the same. Yet, here I am. Every time I sit in one of these cars, I picture myself as a child, I think about who I saw, who showed me what I could achieve. I hope that if nothing else comes of my time at Red Bull, of my time in Formula 1, that I at least continue to pave that path for females in Motorsport the way they have paved the path for me.”
“Being a woman does not put me at a disadvantage. It is the way that women are perceived that changes the way I have to act, the way I have to race, the person I am allowed to be. I always have and always will be proud to be a female in this sport, hopefully changing the future. But, above all else, I am a race care driver. And I’m thrilled to now be a driver for Red Bull Racing. Thank you.” 
taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @opium-den @honethatty12​ @sabrilad @idkiwantchocolatee @revengze @lawwwy @storyteller-le @butterflyydancestuff @indieclarke (if for some reason the tag didn’t work, sorry!)
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scooby-review · 10 days ago
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The New Scooby Doo Movies S1 E9-12
9. The Spooky Fog of Juneberry
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As a heads up, this will be a fairly negative set of four episodes! It does get more positive in the following review though! 
After the gang is pulled over by guest star Don Knotts, a policeman, who brings them back to Juneberry with him to aid in the ongoing mystery. 
For me, this episode contains all the issues I have with the abundance of villains they frequently use in the New Movies. Firstly, we open this episode knowing there is a mystery unfolding, it’s the central plot point, yet we don’t meet any of the seven ghouls until halfway through the episode. 
Alex Toth designed most of the ghosts in this episode, alongside several others that went unused. The model sheets for them show just how beautiful some of the designs can be, most of the model sheets that can be found are just awful quality, but his for this episode and episode seven are crisp, they demonstrate such creativity for the character designs and it’s a shame not all of them got to see the light of day! I don’t love how crowded many episodes feel, but this comes from them under utilising these characters! I think if we got to see them all, then I’d love having them included! 
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These great designs get hardly any time on screen, some mere seconds, they are background assets. It’s so frustrating, especially when other more bland designs get entire episodes to rule over. 
This is not to mention that many of these characters have reused audio’s from other characters. The giggles and groans of other monsters being used for new ones highlights just how cheap the show was, and of course, it makes sense if they’re hardly shown, but it then begs the question, why bring them into the show in the first place? 
Alex Toth’s artwork is great and he worked as a character designer on The Scooby Doo Show, the next incarnation of the series, although I can't find anywhere who he designed! 
We see the return of Don Knotts in this episode, which I find all the more funny because he’s once again playing a character here, it’s so much fun to see them continue this gag. 
I enjoy the haunting idea of this episode; I also love that ghosts pop up here and there, but this is as much praise as I can give the episode - in concept, it’s great. Centering the story around Juneberry, one of many references to the Andy Griffith Show, is a great idea, it’s thick with atmosphere! 
I wish it was a stronger episode - so many pieces are there, but like most in this series, it just drags on and doesn’t get started until the halfway point. 
10. The Ghost of Bigfoot
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The Ghost of Bigfoot follows the gang meeting Laurel and Hardy while on a ski trip, only to learn that the lodge is haunted, which forces the two groups to work as a team to thwart Bigfoot. 
I didn’t love this episode, and I wanted to contrast it to a Where are You episode to explain why! I’ve realised it’s probably dull hearing me simply repeat that I found these boring. 
The episode “That’s Snow Ghost” from season one of Where are You follows the gang heading to a ski resort, only to find the lodges haunted by a yeti. Both these episodes share similar premises, settings and villains. Ostensibly, their bones are the same, but their flesh creates a pair of wildly different episodes. 
In that episode, the gang arrive at the lodge, they meet the weird and wacky cast of characters (genuinely some of the weirdest in the series) who warn the gang about a snow ghost, who they subsequently see. This leads into them searching for footprints in the snow and all around the resort for clues to stop the monster. This is a fairly linear plot, however, it still is able to stop for gags with the gang. 
In contrast, this episode sees the gang arriving at the lodge around five minutes into the episode, before this they stop to aid the guest stars Laurel and Hardy. After checking in, we linger on the pair for a gag sequence, which is followed by them meeting the monster and hijinks ensuing, before the gang then also meet this monster. Afterwards, we follow more Laurel and Hardy gags, before watching the gang wandering around the resort, which leads to more gags before we cut back to the hotel later, where Laurel and Hardy continue to have a sequence of gags. This leads into them stumbling upon a missing man, so the gang all congregate, leading into the final ten minute scene, which is continuously broken up for Laurel and Hardy gags. 
While both episodes have slapstick and comedy driven tangents, the first episode never breaks far away from the plot at hand. It’s not a perfect episode, but it keeps me engaged and interested. On the other hand, this episode loses me so quickly because the gang is only really seen with the pair, meanwhile the pair are seen so frequently. It feels evident the writers loved writing them, because the majority of this episode is simply a Laurel and Hardy story. 
I don’t love this bigfoot design too much either, it’s fine, the creature is lanky and hunched, which pairs perfectly with the agape mouth and small eyes the creature has. These also work perfectly with the big bushy grey beard and eyebrows the monster bears, which gives the design an old man style to it. Despite the name, the creature feels closer to a yeti than anything. However, the design also bears these long streaks of grey down the monster's back and arms, which come across almost like shading, but sometimes like hair. I simply can’t tell, but it sours the design for me unfortunately. 
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As much as I love the setting, I found myself bored by it given the fact we spent most of our time in silly Laurel and Hardy gags but on ice. When we do get to see the gang, for example in the lodge, they really shine and it aids in making the setting feel so fun!
And of course, it’s always fun to see the gang in different outfits, with their pyjamas and snow designs both present. 
11. The Ghost of the Red Baron
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Around halfway into this episode I wrote into my notes “If you removed the three stooges from this episode, I’d be enjoying it!”
To remove the guest stars from this series would be to tear apart the series, and truly, I do love that they’re here. However, in episodes like this or the previous one, a pattern shines that when I dislike a guest star, it tarnishes the entire episode. 
This formula could and does work, my issues with these episodes tend to boil down to the same three problems: They’re too long, the guest is uninteresting, the villain sucks. 
Cornfields are a personal favourite setting of mine, hell I’ve sat through the entirety of the Children of the Corn franchise, I adore this little setting. And while I don’t love planes, I do love The Wind Rises, which simply shows to me that if done correctly, I can be made to care about anything! 
Simply, the episode is about the gang and the stooges attempting to stop the ghost of a WWI pilot from ruining a field of crops. The Baron is actually a pretty good villain for the episode! The Red Baron was a German fighter pilot in WWI, and is often considered the ace of aces. This then feeds into the scarlet shade of the design, which was the colour of his plane. Both him and his plane share this same shade, which rises from his aviator's jacket to his hat, the glasses of which shroud any eyes which gives a great edge to the design. I also enjoy the touch of the scarf even if it’s kind of misplaced. Designing this character after an actual German soldier is an interesting way of creating a villain that ultimately, I don’t love. However, I do like this design and the villain himself has menace, so viewing the character in a vacuum, I’m a fan. 
Come the end of the episode, we watch a dog fight, and while I don’t love it too much, I do at least appreciate that we’re doing something new. 
12. Ghostly Creep from the Deep
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The most common guest star across the series is the Harlem Globetrotters. The basketball team had a Hanna Barbera cartoon that ran from 1970-1972, and I can only assume that a lot of the animation here was re-used. The show followed the team alongside their fictional bus driver, Granny, and dog mascot Dribbles, which highlights perfectly how Scooby had an influence on the show! These episodes would usually follow the team getting caught up in some sort of conflict as they travel, which would lead to them playing a basketball match to settle it. 
The Harlem Globetrotters episodes even got their own DVD and VHS releases, but for some reason, this episode isn’t present on them. 
Simply, I am going to show an image of this episode's villains. 
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The show has always been run on a shoestring budget, frequently reusing animation and in this series, the monsters sometimes have reused voice lines (much to my dismay). But having this episode’s villains be entirely white recolours of the pirates from Go Away Ghost Ship is egregious. 
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These villain’s lack any personality or flair, they are blank slates dressed in the clothes of their fantastic predecessors. It is impossible to get attached to these guys having seen that episode, which is undoubtedly a favourite of mine. They are bland, void of any personality or creativity. 
The Globetrotters kind of blend into a single basketball playing entity for me, so I do appreciate at the very least that they play basketball! Maybe this goes on for too long, sure, but at the very least it isn’t the ten minute sequence that I will be forced to endure later on in the series :D 
I have nothing more to add, my favourite sequence was the gang playing basketball against the Globetrotters and watching in awe as both teams cheated. 
Episode Ranking:
The Ghost of the Red Baron
The Ghostly Creep from the Deep
The Spooky Fog of Juneberry
The Ghost of Bigfoot
Villain Ranking:
Skeleton Stage Driver
3 Eyed Spook
Lady Ghost
Headless Horsemen of Sleepy Hollow
The Ghost of the Red Baron
Skeleton Man
Brontosaurus
Ghost of Bigfoot
Giant
The Ghost of Redbeard (and Crew)
I hope everyone had a great October and Halloween season!
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coltrainbat · 2 years ago
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what about Reader been a brat and trying to embarrassed lloyd Hanson, who is trying to patient and has no choice to punish her
You're Not Sorry
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Lloyd hadn’t really done anything in particular to piss you off. You just decided that you weren’t getting enough attention from the man. 
So, you felt tonight was the perfect occasion for your brand new little black dress. Also, because you told Lloyd you’d meet him at the party. His words ringing in your ear as you adjusted the position of the lace up panel to cover your bare pussy. 
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“This is a very important work event for me baby, lots of important partners there so please wear something nice.”
It’s his fault really, nice is a very polarising word. You personally found this dress, nice, Lloyd on the other hand probably wouldn’t let you leave the house in it. 
Oh well, too late now. 
You made your way into the event, heels clacking against the marble stairs towards the entrance. You could feel eyes following your every move and the subsequent scoff from the wives who had caught their husbands’ eyes on your barely covered ass. 
Perfect, the dress was working. 
Grabbing a glass of champagne from the attendant, you looked for your lover amongst the group. But it was too late because his eyes had already found you, most likely following the murmurs and chokes that were let out when you finally made your way inside. 
He immediately, b-lined for you. His broad figure stood over you, his blue eyes now dark with anger,
“What the fuck are you wearing?” He seethed through clench teeth.
“You said wear something nice, this is nice.” You gestured towards your dress. Eyes innocently gazing at him.
“You look like a fucking whore.” He spat in your ear.
“Oh well.” You smirked.
“We are lea-“
“Lloyd!” He was cut off by the sudden appearance of an equally attractive man. Arguably a little older than Lloyd but no less handsome. He maintained a healthy head of salt and pepper hair, his top buttons undone, revealing a hard chest. 
“Spencer! Hi… how are you.” Lloyd stutters as he went to accept the man’s outstretched hand in a shake. 
Lloyd never stutters let alone gets intimidated by another man. Oh shit. This guy was important. Time to really turn up the heat. 
“And whose this beauty?” The man turned towards you clearly checking you out as his eyes drank in the sight of you. 
You caught a glimpse of Lloyd’s face, pure rage at this point, the vein on his forehead pulsating slightly, as sweat started to form.
“Y/N.” You outstretched your hand in which his took in his, delicately kissing it. 
“It’s a pleasure.”
“Pleasure’s all mine sir”
“Please call me Spencer.”
“Spencer.” Still holding his hand in yours.
“She was just leaving Spencer.” Lloyd eyed you, giving you a look that read “You better fucking stop it’s not funny anymore.” 
“Nonsense, I haven’t even treated her to a drink yet.”
Spencer’s eyes never let yours.
“I’d love one.”
“Well let’s not keep you waiting shall we” Spencer’s arm clasped your waist, leading you towards the bar. Leaving Llloyd to trail closely behind. 
After getting 2 martinis, Spencer led you towards a secluded seat in the back of the venue.
“Here honey, there’s no room for all of us, you’ll be more comfortable on my lap anyways.” Pulling you on top of him, your ass fell to his hardening cock. 
“So, Lloyd, about this deal.”
The men drank and negotiated, you never leaving your spot-on Spencer’s lap, toying with his tie. 
Lloyd sat across from you both, swirling his scotch, eyes never leaving you as jealousy and anger burned inside of him.
You yawned as their talk of teams and assets bored you.
“Something wrong beautiful?” Spencer turned his head to you in his lap, hand coming up to pull some hair off your face. 
“I’m just feeling a little tired, I think it’s time for my exit.”
“Great idea.” Lloyd jumped out of his seat, offering his head to you.
“It was great talking to you Spence, but I think we should save this for some time next week.”
“No agreed, it is a party after all.” He stood up from his seat, a boner presents against his dress pants. Lloyd managed to get a quick glance only furthering his anger.   
“Y/N, honey, here’s my card. Call me if you ever need anything… that is if Mr. Hansen here ever lets you out of his sight.” He eyed off Lloyd before bringing his attention back to you.
“Thank you so much for tonight, Spencer.” You slipped the card in your cleavage. He leaned down towards your ear. 
“We should do it again sometime.” He whispered, nipping your lobe lightly before pulling away. 
“Lloyd.” 
“Spencer.” The man left you both in the area alone.
You immediately went to wrap your arms around Lloyd. He pulled away, pushing you off him by your shoulders. 
“Don’t fucking touch me. Car. Now.”
Too stunned to speak you made your way outside towards Lloyd’s car. Annoyed at his sudden rejection of you. 
You couldn’t help the wetness forming between your legs at the excitement at what was to come. 
After what felt like ages of you sitting in the passenger seat. Lloyd joined you in the car, reversing out without even so much as a hi.
You drove in silence as Lloyd raced down the empty highway in his sports car. His knuckles whitening as he gripped the wheel. 
You finally arrived home, car parked out the front, his hands still on the wheel. 
“Go upstairs, get on your knees and wait.”
You made your way upstairs quickly, almost tripping in your heels as you raced up the stairs. Settling yourself on the carpeted floor, you held your hands behind your back and waited.
 2 minutes turned into 20 but you didn’t dare move a muscle, eyeing the security camera in the corner of the room.
Lloyd strolled into the room, closing the door behind him.  He swirled the old-fashioned glass in his hand, he seemed calm… too calm. Taking a gulp of the dark brown liquid. 
The silence was shortly broken as he threw it at the wall, the glass shattering on impact leaving a wet spot on the white wall.
You flinched at the sound.
“You stupid fucking slut.” He spat
Your eyes falling to the floor.
“You could have fucked up a 500-million-dollar deal in there, and you bet your ass you’re gonna pay for it sunshine.” He smirked, forcing your chin up to look him the eyes. 
He ripped his zipper down in a single motion, unbuckling his tight white pants, whipping out his harden cock.
“Open.” He grabbed your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your hair back. You winced at the sudden pull. 
He didn’t even give you time to ease his pulsating member into your mouth, pushing himself down your throat, you gagged at this sheer size.
Letting him use your mouth to satisfy his desire to have his cock soaked with your spit and tears. 
Once has he had finished his assault on your tender mouth, a mascara and tears combination dripping down your cheeks, lipstick smeared around your mouth. 
“Good girl. Stand up.” You scrambled to your feet, wobbling slightly after so much time on your knees. He pulled you by your neck to lick the tears off your cheeks, a smear of black transferring to his tongue forcing your mouth open with his thumb and then he promptly spitting it back down your throat.
His hands ran down towards the lines on your dress, trailing his fingers down each individual string holding your dress together.
His hands grabbing the fabric on either side.
“You humiliated me.” A sudden rip had formed at the top of your dress, revealing your flushed decolletage 
“Flirted with another man in front of me.” Another rip, this one revealing your breasts as they bounced at the sudden release.
“And disobeyed me… on purpose.” The final rip, your dress now in two parts on either side of your body, you stood naked in front of him, your heat dripping at the sudden exposure of air. 
“No panties you really are a fucking whore.”
You whispered a meek sorry.
“What did you just say? Sorry? Look at you, you’re dripping with arousal, you are clearly not fucking sorry. But don’t worry you will be.” He pushed you back onto the plush mattress. 
“Turn over.”
You got into your submissive position, head in the mattress, ass high in the air. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the air. You could feel the red mark on your ass forming but not before he landed another on the other cheek. 
“Youve been such a dirty girl showing yourself off. Hope you enjoyed tonight because you will never do that again.” Another harsh slap fell onto your ass;
“Yes daddy.”
His thick tip tickled the folds of your pussy, painstakingly teasing your hole, avoiding your aching clit completely 
“Do you want this baby? You want daddy’s cock in you?”
“Yes, please daddy please I need it.”
“I know you need it, but do you deserve it.”
“No daddy but I promise I’ll be good.”
Without warning he plunged into your needy hole, starting his assault on your core;
“Do you think Spencer could fuck you this good baby?”
“No daddy.. no.. he couldn’t” Your words came out as a mumbling as you tried to focus on responding to Lloyd, eager not to prolong the orgasm longer than it will be; 
“Such a dirty slut for me. Your daddy’s slut isn’t that right baby?”
“Yes, daddy just yours, only Lloyd’s dirty little slut.”
“Good girl…” his hands smoothed over your ass as he continued to plummet into you 
“Still fucking disrespected me” he interrupted the moment of tenderness with another hard slap on your rump. 
He pulled your hair back roughly, “Twerk on my cock, make me cum.”
You immediately did what you were told, bouncing your ass onto his cock, moaning at the new angle that came with the push of your ass down to his base. 
His hands fell to your hips, gripping them roughly to help guide you onto him. 
You could feel his heavy ballsack slapping against your clit, your knees started to give at the euphoric sensation of pleasure and pain, the sting of your ass still present as continued to hit your g-spot.
You reached your hand between your legs desperate to touch your aching nib. Your hand was pulled away by a sudden jerk, your wrists now pinned behind your back. 
“Nah-uh sunshine you’re not allowed to cum.”
His hands sneaking underneath you to support your weight. Grabbing your boobs in his hands with a harsh squeeze, leaning over you to trap your arms between your back and his body. 
“Yeah, baby oh yeah daddy’s gonna cum, yeah you want daddy to put babies in you? You going to be a good cum dumpster for daddy’s load?”
“Ah huh.” You let out a groggily moan
“That’s not a fucking answer.”
“Yes, daddy please give it to me, I want it inside of me.”
“Good.” He released inside of you, his seed shooting into your pelvis, filling you up fully. 
He pulled out with a groan, and you whimpered at the loss of contact, collapsing on the mattress as cum slowly oozed out of you.
Lloyd licked his fingers, quickly shoving the creamy release back into you.
“Gotta keep it all in there.” 
“You gonna help me finish daddy?”
“I told you bad girls don’t get to cum didn’t I?”
“But Lloyd… I…”
“No, arguments or I’ll make it a week. This is your punishment now get into bed.”
You crawled upwards and under the covers, shivering at the sudden loss of warmth inside of you.
He pulled you into him,
“Maybe tomorrow if you can prove that you’ve learnt your lesson you can cum ok sunshine?”
“Ok daddy.”
“Good. Now sleep.”
You cuddled him close, trying to ignore the ache between your legs.
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bohemian-nights · 10 months ago
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I don't know which kind of relationship Daemon actually had with Nettles, but im sure he loved her deeply and genuinely, cause when he received the letter claiming Nettles's head, he was on mission to save her from her mad jealous, by now fat depressed wife
Yeah my main problem with this fandom is that they absolutely refuse to acknowledge the fact that Daemon was willing to die in order save Nettles.
It can’t be stressed enough that he did not have to do that.
Nettles offers him next to nothing. Not a crown, an army, or money. Sure she's a dragonrider, but her dragon alone doesn’t do much against the Greens(especially considering she doesn’t have much combat experience nor is she some great strategist).
So sacrificing his life(one of TB's best asset if not the best individual asset) for a poor bastard girl with no family or connections is pretty pointless, but he refuses to abandon her.
Hell, even Lord Moonton knows he isn’t going to abandon her. He knows how much he cares for her. It’s what causes him(Lord Moonton) to fear for his own safety because he knows what he’s willing to ensure Nettles’ safety.
It’s Daemon’s feelings for Nettles that protects her from being murdered in her sleep. It’s all there in black and white. How people overlook that to say Daemon didn’t love her or she meant absolutely nothing to him boggles my mind.
Regardless of whether it was romantic or not(it was, but I’m not getting into that) Daemon did love Nettles(and I’d argue she was the most important person in his life at that time).
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*Note that this is not team-specific because most of you guys act oblivious under the guise of “caring” to downright psycho about Daemon and Nettles’ relationship.
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turtleations · 3 months ago
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KUMA: Never Ending Bond, Chapter 1, Part 6 (Translation)
Preface & Prologue Chapter 1, Part 1 & 2 Chapter 1, Part 3 Chapter 1, Part 4 Chapter 1, Part 5
Things I learned from HIDE-san that I want to pass on to future generations
Originally, I assisted the members of the band because I liked them, not because I was a staff member trained to help them with their activities.
So if I thought, “This is my part”, I would keep doing it out of my own volition even without anyone telling me to. Like that, I automatically learned how to do this job simply by doing it.
What kept me going was the idea that “I can’t embarrass X and Shishô.” Although I was a child, I guess you could say I felt like the burden of representing X’s image fell upon me. Because it would look bad if I didn’t work properly, I frantically asked about the things I didn’t understand in advance.
Most important for that were the people of SONY that I came in contact with after X’s debut.
There were a lot of excellent people, and that I got to see how they handled their work as a child turned out to be a great asset.
Even now I am still so grateful for SONY’s team leader Takahashi-san, who always treated me, who came from the backend of Kumamoto and did not know left from right, with extreme kindness.
Also, I am truly happy that these excellent people from SONY placed their trust in me.
There were many times when HIDE-san and me worked alone on campaigns and the like. I’ve mentioned it before, but as the band grew bigger, the number of people associated with it grew, and its situation changed from what it had been when they were indies. Where before we did everything ourselves, there was now someone in charge of production waiting when they went on tour, and there was also someone to take care of their hair and makeup.
In all that, the one thing that did not change was the unit of Shishô and me.
From transfer to on-site action, we were together from morning till morning, and there really were a lot of things happening…
Suddenly, Shishô would say, “KUMA, I just thought of a guitar riff, memorize it,” and I’d go, “Right, I got it.”
“Jaan jan, Jaraan 🎵Jaan jan, jaraan 🎵 That’s it for now, remember this until we get home.”
Things like that happened, but there were also moments when he would ask me, “KUMA, what do you think of this?”
I just thought…. Thinking of my reckless self of that time, life just gets more difficult as we grow older.
But, that’s why I want to talk about it.
Even though circumstances today are certainly very different from what they were more than 20 years ago, I want to let young people of today know that “a bond such as that existed”.
Even if I may feel burned out when I think about the days I spend with Shishô and wish I could go back to them, there is one certainty that’s left inside me.
Those are entangled, irreplaceable memories of gratitude and connection.
And this is the important, important treasure Shishô has left for me.
Chapter 2, Parts 1 & 2
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ask-nijiro-nanase · 1 month ago
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oh nanase you're too cute ! it's 🍡 anon again haha, and i enjoy talking to you too! you're very sweet and i can't help but relate to you comparing yourself to your peers, especially knowing you fall short compared to others but i hope you know that you've got amazing qualities to yourself that'll make you a stronger player, you're already a great asset to the team and your motivation to work hard will pay off! and the thing i do where i stand on my toes? it definitely didn't come to me as easily, it took a lot of hard work and a few years of practice + strength training ◜ᵕ◝ ྀི i'd love to bring you to performance one day so you can see me dance, but your busy schedule must take up a lot of your time, right? although? i'd really love to see the sight of you in pointe shoes, that'd be a fun thing to watch! or even try to see you pirouette! also, if you didn't want to pursue a career in football, what do you think you would do? and more pointless questions... what're your favorite shows you've been watching lately? [she brings her finger to boop the boy's nose and she giggles softly] or movies? since it's october, so you have any horror movies you like? i'm a big fan of them personally :3
Come to one of yer dances? That honestly sounds like a lot of fun, I’ve never actually seen a ballerina dance before 😅
Hm, I don’t know if I’d be any good at doing anythin' related to dancin' gracefully, it’s not really my style, but it sounds excitin' anyway
If I weren’to pursue a career in football… wow I really dunno, it might sound kinda weird and out there but an electrician, I’m pretty good at solderin' even if it doesn’t really interest me far as a job I’d really just wanna do somethin' I’m good at y’know?
[he snickered at the sudden touch, tilting his head slightly with a confused look]
What was that for eh..?
Oh? Shows? I have a bigger likin' to movies since it’s just one sit through n’all, I do like action or sports movies more than horror, but it’s definitely my third favourite type, I prefer psychological horror movies over thrillers, but I have no particular favourite I like them all, what's yer favourite? ☺️
Fun fact for the spooky month, my mom used to call me 'pumpkin' or 'pumpkin head' because I had a really round face when I was younger :D
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ioveskye · 2 years ago
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Wonder | Leo Fitz x reader Prologue
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A/N: Hey everyone, after more than a year I am finally going through with this series that I had planned. Since there is a lack of aos fics out there i wanted to make one myself. On my AO3 there is a version of this fanfic with my OC as well (in case you don’t want to read an x reader, its @ioveskye as well) Please let me know if you like the series and let me know if you want to be on the taglist.
"These are all the files the department could find about the experiments you requested." Lucia, the newly hired intern said to Y/n as she was handed the files she asked for. She smiled at the young girl and thanked her. Lucia made her way back to her own desk and Y/n immediately began to do her research.
Y/n L/n, a well-known detective all around the world. She has solved numerous mysteries and was even the first person to be right about the 'Thor theory'. A recent turn of events has caught the attention of the young detective lately which led her to read all the files that the department could find. Numerous hospitals in the area around Los Angeles all had encounters with patients that died of similar causes. The biggest pattern between these deaths was that the cause of death was never discovered. After some more digging Y/n found out that all the patients had all undergone special treatments at the same medical clinic.
Sadly that was as far as she got. An address. It wasn't a well-known clinic and they only specialized in physiotherapy (that's what the website said at least). So she decided to check it out to just 'ask some questions'. The moment she grabbed her gear however she was stopped by the ringing of her phone. It wasn't her work phone so she was very confused about why an anonymous caller was calling her. When she pressed accept she never would've believed to hear the voice of an old friend.
"Y/n L/N, it has been a while since we last spoke hasn't it?" The voice of Phil Coulson said at the other end of the line.
Y/n couldn't help but smirk. Of course, Phil Coulson would call her randomly after three years like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Well well, Phil Coulson. In what do I owe the pleasure? Does S.H.I.E.L.D. need my help again with something?"
"You could say that. But it isn't just S.H.I.E.L.D. it's also a friend asking for a favor."
She turned to the two co-workers that were waiting for her at the side of her desk. She held her phone to her shoulder so she could talk to the two men. "Guys go back to your other assignments I don't think we'll be heading out for a while."They nodded at her and walked back to their own desks once again while Y/n turned her attention back to her phone.
"So, what kind of favor is this and how do I benefit from it." She asked the man with a smirk knowing damn well it didn't actually matter since she'd always help out.
"I've been setting up a team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that are focused on missions with potential 0-8-4's. I think you're familiar with those right?" The line went quiet for a while, Coulson waiting for an affirmation that the young detective still remembered what he meant. When the girl hummed in familiarity the man continued. "Well, I hoped that you would be a part of that team. I know your last team up with S.H.I.E.L.D a few years ago didn't go as planned and that you've decided that working on your own was better but I hoped you could give us another chance. I think you'd be a great asset. If not for S.H.I.E.L.D then just as a consultant. I'd like to hear about your decision soon."
The girl sighed when Coulson didn't say anything else. Of course, she wanted to help Coulson with his team but teamwork wasn't something she was specialized in. The last time she went on a mission with S.H.I.E.L.D it went horribly wrong and she told herself she wouldn't make that mistake again. But now that Coulson asked for her help she couldn't refuse.
"All right, ill do it. But they better pay me for this."
"Don't worry, I've already made sure of that."
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abyssal-ali · 2 years ago
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I Knew You'd Come (I Didn't)
A/N: This picks up immediately after the end of Part 2. Enjoy! Part 1 Part 2 Cardigan AU Masterlist
WC: ~1k
“Mom?” Jason put his knife back in the drawer of the table in the foyer and relaxed his stance.
Marinette almost broke her neck turning from the woman in the armchair to her boyfriend.
Jason flipped the lights on and Marinette moved to his side, unsure if she wanted protection or to defend him.
Across from the strange woman were Jagged, Penny, Tom, and Sabine. “Why are you guys here?! I thought you were coming in two weeks?”
“Jagged offered to bring us on his jet to surprise you, honey,” spoke up Sabine. “We found your boyfriend's mother already here, also to surprise you.”
“Well...that was certainly a surprise all right,” nervously chuckled Marinette.
Beside her, Jason was glaring at his mom and communicating primarily through facial expressions and body language.
“Yes, a surprise,” agreed Jason, squeezing her hand. “Excuse us for a second—I'm sure you understand, since this was quite the surprise.”
She tugged him around the corner to the foyer hallway.
“I'm so sorry about my mom, Pix. She has a habit of randomly dropping in on me when she's in the area, but I didn't know she was around. She must've decided to come test you or something.”
“It's fine, we weren't expecting my parents and uncle and aunt, although I really should've known better. Also, what tests?”
“Uh...I'm not sure. Never dated anyone long enough to introduce them to her...”
“Expect to be threatened with being fed to Fang, by the way,” Marinette warned him. “Uncle Jagged is a little dramatic.”
“And you say this after meeting the non-lethal side of my family,” he joked.
Marinette peeked around the corner. “Maman and your mom are getting along just great, which is mildly concerning. But they should be fine with your mom’s…career, considering my maman’s background and that they approve of Uncle Slade teaching me uh, tricks.”
She said that like he didn't have that nugget of information bouncing around the back of his head 24/7.
“Marinette, did you know I have already met your future mother-in-law?” called Sabine. “We used to train together, though as I was older I was usually the one training her.”
Marinette pinched her brow and sighed, then dragged a stunned Jason back into the living room.
Talia smiled sweetly at her. “Your mother was an invaluable asset to the League while she trained with us during her contract. I sometimes wondered what happened to make Sabine Cheng sifu drop off the face of the earth.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Talia shaykhah.”
“Likewise. How did you meet Jason? I was only informed that he had asked a very nice girl out a few months ago,” heavy side-eye was sent Jason's way and he shifted his weight awkwardly.
“Uh, we're in the same classes at school, and we got teamed up to work on a project.”
“And you know of his activities?”
“Of course, I helped him take down the Untitled when they came after me.”
“After you?” Talia's gaze sharpened.
Jagged, Penny, and Tom munched on popcorn as they enjoyed the front-row seats to the live drama.
“Uh, they found my magical energy.”
“Oh, a mage. I imagine your father doesn't like that,” Talia directed that comment to Jason, who was eyeing Fang, who was eyeing him back sleepily.
“He doesn't know yet; we only got back from her introductory brunch.”
“What do you have that would make the Untitled come after you?”
Marinette felt a teensy bit uncomfortable under the doubled scrutiny of Talia’s piercing gaze.
“...a Miraculous?” guessed her future mother-in-law dang it Maman, Talia!
Marinette grinned sharply. “Cataclysm does wonders for an ancient sect's skincare.”
Talia gave an approving nod. “ You seem to make a good pair with Jason. I would like to spar with you sometime.” 
“I’d love to. Will you be staying in town long?”
“I just dropped by to see my son’s girlfriend. I’m leaving tomorrow evening.”
“I assume you already have my number or have a way to contact me; I’ll be waiting.” Marinette turned to her aunt and uncle. “It’s so good to see you again! This is my boyfriend, Jason Todd. Jay, Jagged and Penny–and Fang,” she cooed, stooping to greet the alligator.
“Good to see you, Little Rockstar! All grown up, you even got a boyfriend…they grow up so fast,” sniffed Jagged, wiping a fake(?) tear away.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jason stepped forwards to shake the visitors’ hands. “Pixie talks about you all a lot.”
“We don’t hear that much about you,” said Jagged. 
Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’ve been busy with school and commissions and life, Uncle Jagged. Besides, we had some things to…deal with before we went public.”
“Things,” snorted Jagged. “What an explanation, of course, why didn’t you just say so earlier?
“You still need tutoring on your excuses, Little Rocker. We gotta get you some sort of creative animal…I’m thinking an emu…What about you, Pen?”
Penny raised an eyebrow. “Marinette has enough on her hands with 19 kwami, a boyfriend, and an overprotective uncle.”
“Thank you, Aunt Penny.” Marinette stood and turned to Jagged, motioning subtly to Jason to pet Fang. 
“Maman, Papa, Nonna, and Uncle Slade all approve, Uncle Jagged, you don’t need to worry about me. And Jay’s parents also approve on his side. Everything is fine, and you don’t need to threaten him with Fang. As you can see, they’re getting along just fine, so Jason also has Fang’s seal of approval. Would anyone like some tea?” The topic switch was not subtle, but Marinette was beyond caring at this point.
“I’d like a cup, sweetie,” said Tom, and Sabine nodded. 
“Me too, please.”
Talia nodded in agreement when Marinette looked at her.
Penny offered to help Marinette make the tea while Jason chatted with the parents (and uncle).
“He seems like a good kid, Marinette; I hope your relationship stays strong. I’ll try to keep Jagged in line.” She sent Marinette a small smile.
●○●○●○●
Extra A/N: Did you guess who was lurking in the apartment?😈
Extra extra scene, inspired by Bambi:
~Marinette was chatting happily with her parents on a video call when Jason slipped into her apartment through the window she'd left open.
His wonderful girlfriend looked up with a welcoming smile. "Jason just came in- do you want to get the first meeting over before they move here in a couple months?" She directed the last half of her comment to him.
Stuffing down the panic, he replied easily, "Sure, Pix, just let me get comfy."
Translation: don't out me as your crazy crime lord boyfriend to your parents when they haven't even met me yet!
Marinette rolled her eyes at his panic and nodded, continuing her conversation while Jason changed into his sweats and Ladybug hoodie.
Once he was comfortable and not overtly vigilante-looking, he sat beside Marinette on the sofa and wrapped his arm around her casually.
"Hello, I'm Jason Todd. It's nice to meet you," he said, panicking at every word he said.
His eyes met Tom's through the screen, then-
"Aunty S?" His voice was embarrassingly high.
"I thought you were video chatting with your parents?" Marinette looked at him in confusion as he turned to her.
"They are my parents, Jason. Did you hit your head while you were out or something?"
"But-"
Marinette's mother laughed. "Of course you're that Jason. My Marinette always finds the strangest connections."
"You've...met?" Asked Marinette, confused.
"You know how you went on tour a couple summers ago as Jagged's stylist?"
Marinette nodded in remembrance.
"Well, while you were gone, I was at the League of Assassins' location in Nanda Parbat, training a few of their advanced assassins.
"My family left the League, but on the condition that one of our martial arts masters returns every few years to teach a select group of higher-trained members. I've been the one to go, and I trained Jason while I was there. He went by Jason al Ghul then. We grew fond of each other, hence him calling me Aunty S," Sabine explained.
Jason groaned into his hands as he bent over, bemoaning his life and secretly thanking everything that Marinette hadn't publicized their short breakup, saving him from having *two* angry, protective, highly-trained assassins after him.
Once this mortifying meeting was over, he was going to ask her about every single person she knew to make sure there were no more surprise assassin friends and family.~
Extra extra extra scene:
Talia: *climbs into Marinette's apartment after carefully casing it*
Sabine: *picks the lock on Marinette's door with her less-than-legal skills*
*Door opens to four intruders staring at the intruder at the opposite end of the room*
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Many thanks to my lovely beta @sarcasticbambi and to Ella, who helped get me out of my dry well of dialogue with the Jagged scene💜
Taglist: @questioning-blob-of-fog
If you want to be added to a Maribat/Cardigan AU/General taglist let me know!
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reikiajakoiranruohoja · 2 years ago
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PSN2: How to write a mature narrative
In this age of progressive content and boundary-pushing, there is still something missing. Most of the boundary-pushing media is made for children and the media trying to be adult tends to sadly fall into the South Park trap of excess.
Enter Psychonauts 2 and I’d say one of the most mature story arcs I have ever seen depicted. Especially as this story arc has no right answer or an easy solution.
The Maligula story from start to finish has this feeling of regret and every character (minus poor Helmut) messed up in it.
To start with Lucrecia opened her mind and destroyed most of the mechanisms protecting it. That isn't bad, it was a time of experimentation. But when her country was invaded and her husband was killed? She left without rebuilding her mental defences. Yet the most important part of this is that she left at all, considering she must have known Grulovia was a shithole. Lucrecia could have taken her sister and her spouse from the country and emigrated to America.
She didn't, though. Because as flawed as it was, Grulovia was her home. Her family had lived there for generations, they had a history there. So she rushed back home to defend it. Being one of the foremost experts in her field, she became a great asset in the war. Which eventually netted her a high political position, because dystopias are nothing if not pragmatic. Morally speaking, this was not a good choice. Lucrecia was supporting a tyranny as its punishing arm. Yet, this is a choice people often make in situations like this. Grulovia was invaded once, it could be invaded again. People who have faced a defensive war often feel the need to be on their toes, even generations later.
Lucrecia ending up murdering her sister adds to the moral greyness. She did not want to do it, it was an accident. But by that point, her choices had let her into a mental state that was just waiting to explode. Maligula choosing to just drown the whole country makes a twisted amount of sense. The Gzar's orders led to the death of her sister, the country was not getting better.
So screw everyone equally, they deserve to drown.
This alone is a very mature storyline, as it showcases how a person can end up the way Lucrecia did. Many have ended up becoming monsters in similar situations in real life. Minus the psychic powers of course.
Then we come to the fallout of Maligula and how it hurt her friends. How Ford, in a desperate attempt to 'fix' things, ended up creating a massive lie and something that would affect Lucrecia's family generations later. The Hand of Galochio serves as a great stand-in for generational trauma.
He ended up hurting Helmut too since he left the poor guy's brain chilling in the Astralade without even a note stating it was Helmut's brain.
The narrative lets Ford's actions stand for themselves. Was he in the right? Was there another way? The game does not say, because to offer a solution would undermine the story's point. Sometimes, people do awful things with good intentions. Sometimes, there is no right choice but a bunch of bad ones and you must choose one.
 Sometimes, people cannot recover from such trauma. Compton was already a nervous wreck, seeing his friend become a monster was the last straw for him. Bob lost his husband and was already self-medicating with alcohol. Cassie could not figure out the role she should play. Ford destroyed his mind from the shame. Otto was the only one who kept on going, I guess he had better coping mechanisms than his friends.
On top of all of this, the person who ended up rekindling the conflict? A spoiled rotten rich boy who could not accept even a little loss of status.
The maturity of this storyline shows up in all its aspects. The choices the characters make and why they make them are sadly very realistic. The fact that the team split up and could not cope is sad but it happens. The complete lack of any 'golden ending' or an easy way out for the characters shows how intentional this was.
This is how to do a mature narrative right.
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