#SERIOUSLY LIKE I WANT TO BE COOL AND SMART ABOUT IT AND EVERYTHING BUT IT'S LIKE

[twelvebooksstuff]

Yes, love that pattern for a job!

Yeah…I don’t think a lot of jobs are necessarily designed for people, honestly…that sounds so weird but the way a job/work environment is designed vs what would actually be helpful for workers is such a huge gap, most of the time! Your feelings are valid and relatable!! Workplaces, even less computer-based ones, can often feel like a machine where people are just seen as parts and less like you know, actual human beings, and it sucks. It doesn’t help when people at the top are so removed from everyday operations, that they don’t get it and make unhelpful choices as a result. Yes!!! The same information in three different ways (and three different places) happens all too often…*tries not to scream*

Ideal work schedule:

I show up and am given a list of cognitively engaging but achievable tasks

I complete the list

I leave immedietly

[linabirb]

only a few mutuals know how insane i am about sunday and robin (and like. most of my faves.) and i would love to talk more about them but 1) i am not smart enough for that and i will just say the obvious things or i will just. project a lot and 2) i will not say anything deep and cool i will just go "ehehe they're pretty <3" every five seconds and 3) i love them in a "i have a robin body pillow and sunday is treated like my real bf by my mom and my therapist and i am very serious about it" way. yeah

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[argentconflagration]

when the subject of "why do people believe things that are seriously wrong and harmful" comes up it feels like you kinda hear one of two perspectives:

"oh, that's easy! it's because they're fundamentally Bad people who want to hurt others and choose their beliefs to justify that! :) hope this helps"

or

"they just don't have access to the same information we do. look at this person who was raised in a cult! don't you feel sorry for her?"

and like, yes, fine, some people were in fact raised in cults, but what i wish people would understand is that the bulk of it is just normal human flaws, like:

they want to believe stuff that makes them feel smart and cool and like they've figured everything out (you also do this)

they want to believe stuff that makes them feel like their emotions are justified and grounded in reality, and that the people they want to hurt deserve to be hurt (you also do this)

they form conclusions before they've processed all the relevant information, and cling to that first impression even when new info comes to light (you also do this)

they pick up beliefs from the people around them because they want to be liked and fit in, not because the beliefs are good or true (you also do this)

they come up with reasons that the stuff that benefits them (and the people they like and identify with) is actually overwhelmingly best for everyone and obviously the right thing to do (you also do this)

they pay more attention to stuff that supports what they already believe and avoid looking in places that might show them otherwise (you also do this)

they listen to people who talk like 'one of them' and ignore others (you also do this)

they come up with reasons to dismiss people with conflicting viewpoints as obviously in bad faith or ignorant or a shill or evil (you also do this)

they fail to take their own beliefs seriously sometimes, and take their beliefs way too seriously other times, in a selective way that lets them do the things they already wanted to do (you also do this)

the very ways they construct the ideas of 'knowledge' and 'wisdom' and 'belief' and 'understanding' are biased so that what they don't want to believe comes under lots of scrutiny and what they do want to believe receives less (you also do this)

you, dear reader, are presumably right about everything and were correct to die on every hill you've ever died on, but the difference between you and someone who's wrong about important stuff doesn't look like "well they're inherently evil and i'm not", it probably looks like a combination of:

natural environment (they would have been exposed to different information than you regardless of their choices)

being in the right place at the right time (your particular profile of flaws and virtues happened to be what was needed to lead you to the right conclusions, they had the opposite experience)

random luck (you doubled down on what felt right to believe but wasn't, but it turned out to be inconsequential, or even right for different reasons, while they doubled down on what turned out to be a horrible mistake distorting their entire worldview)

you do less of the things in the previous list, and over time the difference between you and them adds up

and, look, i also do these things. the nicest and most thoughtful people i've ever met do these things. if you meet someone who never does any of these things, i dunno, give them a fucking medal or something.

i know you're doing your best. we're all doing our best.

[viennakarma]

The Lucky One

Part 1 (of 2) | Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Summary: Formula One had been your dream and your goal ever since you were a kid, and you did all you had to in order to achieve it. Between ups and downs, Sebastian becomes a steady presence despite being your complicated frenemy relationship. Until everything comes crashing down. Formula One gives, but Formula One takes.

Word count: 6.5k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, reader is mirrorball coded, coming of age, cursing, romance, both are assholes, smut, +18, complicated feelings, rivals to lovers, crash, major injury, medical innacuracies, bittersweet ending, not beta read

Relationship: Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Note: This is fully inspired by the song, and throughout my writing process I realized it also fits mirrorball. This one may require some tissues (especially in part 2). Everything is fictional and I mean no disrespect to Sebastian or his family (they don't exist in this story). Let me know in the comments if you wanna be tagged for part 2. Not proofread. Comments and feedback are welcomed.

Find me on Twitter!

You knew from an early age that charisma could conquer the world, it was a relatively easy taught lesson back in your early karting days. Mum sat you down one day in karting, showing two other kids around. One sitting alone, quietly twinkling with his go-kart, you knew him, Jamie-something, one of the best kids in karting, and you always had fun battles with him, but he was a bit of an odd one out. The other kid mum pointed at was Nick, loud, funny and popular… not that good at karting but a really smart talker. And it showed as he was surrounded by adults and other kids, every bit of attention on him.

You were around 11 when your mum pointed out the difference between the two kids.

“What is different about them, darling?” Mum asked you.

“Jamie is alone… And Nick is surrounded by people.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know, Mama…” You said, scratching your brain to try and reply.

“Jamie is not very good with people, right? He’s a bit of an introvert…” Your mum said, quite somberly, “And Nick, he’s charismatic, see how he manages to grab everyone's attention?” As you nodded, your mum kept talking, “There are greater chances of Nick making far in motorsports, rather than Jamie.”

“But it’s not fair! Jamie is much better…”

“I know, darling… But you’ll see that motorsports is not fair at all. And unfortunately, if you really want to go far in this career, you’ll have to do everything they want and more. Being a good driver won’t be enough.”

“Why not, mama?” You asked, pouting.

“Because everybody loves pretty and everybody loves cool.”

-

Over the next few years of your teens, you learned to adapt, not only in karting, then single seaters, then Formula categories, not only as a driver, but as a person. You were fun, charming, and after a few years, it came to you easily. Laugh at his joke, that’s a sponsor. Smile at the journalists and they’ll write you as the future of motorsport. Be funny, but not too funny to the point they won’t take you seriously. Smile, but not too much so they don’t think you’re flirting. Be smart about your sport, but not too smart so they won’t feel emasculated. Take good care of your career and your every step, but don’t let them know so they won’t call you manipulative. Never be angry, never lash out, never be curt.

Nobody ever thought about you as a carefully crafted person, because even that was planned out. No one called you fake. They always thought you were that person: funny, smart and pretty like a 60’s queen.

You made it to Formula 1 at the age 23, a little late but you had accounted for that, being a woman and all. You were a damn good driver, but really it was your charm that put you there. You knew that your presence was good PR for the Federation. Look how inclusive we are!

After substituting a driver twice in the 2014 season, you were signed in 2015 for Toro Rosso, rookie you and rookie Max Verstappen, who was much younger than you. You and him got along well, but you couldn’t help but think how he got the chance to join Formula 1 much younger than you, having had almost the same career path in earlier categories. The only difference? You were a woman.

But you didn’t let that outshine your happiness of making it to Formula 1.

Soon you got in everyone’s good graces, charming your way through motorsports like you had been doing your whole career. Your first ever race as an official driver on the grid, there was this sense of relief, of making it to the ultimate dream. All that you had endured was worth it in that glorious moment.

You managed a little friendship with most drivers, getting to chat with them despite your rivalry on the track. You end up getting two podiums that season, brilliantly going down in history.

Well into your first official season, somehow the nickname “Principessa” caught on after an Italian newspaper wrote a praiseful cover article about how you managed to be classy and talented in your rookie year at Toro Rosso.

Life was a dream come true all the way to 2016, when you realized, Sebastian Vettel didn’t like you much. You thought it was just a distance thing, since you two weren’t used to talking that much. Until you overheard him talking about you with Nico, one of the drivers he was always talking to.

“I’m just not really interested…” Sebastian sounded reluctant.

“She’s really nice once you get to chat with her,” Nico said, as you hid behind a pile of tyres, “Vivian adores her, she even sent her a basket of goodies because of the pregnancy.”

“I understand. But me and her don’t click,” Sebastian mumbled, sounding annoyed.

“And why not?”

“She’s fake. A perfect PR doll, and I don’t like it.”

There was a long silence from Nico, probably shocked at the sudden harshness of Sebastian’s towards someone he had barely opened up to meet. You stood there frozen for a couple of seconds, not understanding his aversion to you.

Snapping out of it, you silently walked away without them noticing you were ever there. You couldn’t believe how, or why Sebastian could see right through you, how he could say that stuff when he had barely talked to you. But worst of all, you couldn’t understand his aversion to you, being against you.

“Having a quiet day?” Nico asked later that day, at the drivers parade as you stood a bit quieter than usual, still in your head about Sebastian’s words.

“Oh, no! Just a bit hungry!” You lied with a believable smile, “How’s Vivian?” You decided to change the subject.

Later that year, you had a great, almost competitive car, which had taken you to P3 in the championship standings, with a real, consistent chance of fighting for the championship.

Unfortunately for you, after the fourth to last race of the season, one race you had finished first place, you and part of your team were called in to talk with the representatives of the FIA because of an irregular part of your car. It was a minimal part of the livery that connected with the air vents, they said it was irregular, and despite the team showing proof that you had gained no advantage out of that, you were still punished with disqualification from that race.

It wasn’t just the problem of being DSQ, but not making points in that race meant you were out of the fight for the championship.

It felt like a punch in the face. Unjustifiable and an arbitrary decision.

After that disqualification, that came out right after the race had ended, Sebastian was the one to inherit that win, and a small part of him wanted to check on you, just because those kinds of disqualifications were a blow to the confidence of a driver.

Sebastian walked into your driver’s room and the first thing he noticed were the objects thrown around on the floor, a flipped table and chair. Chess pieces and boards on the floor, along with water bottles and towels, he looked around and you were sitting in a corner, on the floor, tears streaming down your face as you tried to wipe them with trembling hands, but the tears kept coming down.

It sent Sebastian into some sort of shock, he knew you for around three years now, and he had never seen you cry, or be angry, or even annoyed. You were always happy and bubbly… And now… It was like you were someone else, so painfully real, multifaceted for the first time.

“Hey… you-” He wasn’t even sure of what to say.

“They took my chances from me…” You said, voice trembling and a fresh stream of tears, “they did it on purpose. They did it to keep me where I am, to keep me on a leash, to not let me become a World Champion.”

“I’m so sorry…” He knelt down by your side, unsure of what to do or say.

“I did everything right. Played by their rules. I smiled, and I danced like a circus monkey, and I clapped even when I shouldn’t… I took it silently even when they threw spears at my chest. I swallowed my pride countless times to be here. I did everything right…” You knew you were rambling, to someone who probably didn’t even like you, but you couldn’t stop, the burning rage that brought tears to your eyes was stronger than anything you ever felt.

Sebastian didn’t know what to say, too shocked by the view of the real you that he could barely wrap his head around it. There was anger in your eyes, sadness, but somewhat a sprinkle of despair too. So he did the only thing his mind could think of, he hugged you. A little awkwardly, but a hug nonetheless. He felt your tears dampening his shirt, your hands fisting the material as if you were drowning and he was the only lifebuoy left. The sobs rocked your shaky frame and he held you for a long time, until someone from the team came to check on you. Then Sebastian hesitantly let go of you, despite your fingers still gripping his shirt, he pulled back, astonished.

As he left, stunned, he couldn’t even remember the reason he had gone there in the first place.

You only saw Sebastian again, the following race weekend, during media day. You were sitting on a box, drinking some water, your legs dangling in the air. You looked like you always did, bubbly, content, hair in place, light makeup…

Despite everything, and the memories being a little blurry, you didn’t forget what Sebastian had done for you. But even though the support was nice at the time, you couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of shame and embarrassment for what he had witnessed. Your mask had slipped, and you didn’t know how to proceed in this new, unknown territory.

In the end, you opted for deflection.

“Hey,” Sebastian approached you, looking slightly worried, “how…” he cleared his throat, “how have you been?” There was a silent question there, a silent approach to everything that had transpired the other day.

“Hi? Yeah, I’m alright, thanks!” You said with a bright smile, but now Sebastian could see it never reached your eyes. You hopped off the box you were sitting on, starting to walk away.

“Um- about the other day…?” Sebastian tried to breach the subject, unsure of how you would react.

“Oh, that? It was silly, just forget about it!” You kept smiling, your voice was cheerful, but your eyes betrayed that. You kept walking away, eating fruits and Sebastian ran up to you again, confused about you brushing under the rug something that was a pretty big deal.

“No, uh- how-” He wanted to think of something to say, but your smile dimmed a little bit as you looked at him.

“Let’s forget about that. And please don’t pity me.” You said with that same frozen smile and Sebastian frowned. He wasn’t pitying you, he was genuinely worried about that.

You walked away before he could say anything else. He was shocked at you dismissing so easily a full blown breakdown you had the week before. He had spent days thinking about you, not because he enjoyed any of it, he didn’t, but because he saw you for the first time. The real you. The ugly and painful parts, but it was so, so genuine, he knew that was the real you, with an honest reaction to something that hurt and upset you. He saw something he had never seen in you before, and he couldn’t get that version of you out of his head.

It was obvious you didn’t want to talk about that, or even address it. And Sebastian wasn’t going to press for answers, because in the end, he didn’t even like you particularly. He didn’t. And in the media pen, when a reporter asked you about the penalty that took you out of the championship competition, you smiled politely.

“Oh, I believe the FIA did the right thing, if I was accidentally irregular, that’s what should have been done. No complaints on my part or on behalf of my team,” You said into the mic, seeing in their faces that no one expected that response. Sebastian kept staring at you, in disbelief.

“Well, I for one,” Sebastian said after a few shocked seconds, “think that her disqualification was bullshit.”

The room burst out laughing, even you. A fake laugh, but since no one could tell, it was still a laugh. Saving your tears for some other time, alone and quiet, away from prying eyes.

Despite everything, you and Sebastian didn’t become closer, but in some way he just decided to open up to you a little bit more, as opposed to what he had been doing these past few years. He still wasn’t a friend or a close acquaintance, but he was less closed off and less short towards you. There was a silent acknowledgement of each other in public settings, a quiet nod or polite smile here and there.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he was about to leave the hotel to go to a dinner during the week of the Malaysian GP, when he got into the elevator and as he got to the first floor, you stumbled into the small space, reeking of alcohol and makeup a little smeared. He called your name, in such shock he forgot to hop out and the elevator started going up again.

“What,” You said, holding yourself steady against the elevator wall. Sebastian was shocked, that was another facet of you, raw and belling with the persona you usually sold the world.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the elevator stopping on your floor.

“I’m fine,” you said, stumbling out of the elevator in your high heels, Sebastian couldn’t help but also step out, grabbing your arm to steady you, “I said I’m fine!” You said, drunkenly stomping your foot.

“No, you’re not. Come on, give me your key.” Sebastian said, with a voice that left no space for arguing. 

You tried to be stubborn, but he just grabbed your purse and started fumbling with it until he grabbed your key-card. Holding your arm, he guided you to your hotel suite. Once inside, he placed you sitting on an armchair, and as he knelt in front of you to remove your shoes, you plopped back against the backrest.

“No, no,” he said, tossing your heels away and pulling your arms so you’d sit up straight, “No sleeping yet, come on. I didn’t pick you for a drinker.”

“And I didn’t pick you for a nosy asshole” You snapped back.

“Well, well, well, isn’t motorsports’ favorite doll hiding a foul mouth?” He said, holding you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Well, isn’t that what you are? We both know the truth, Principessa.” There was some bitterness to the way he said the nickname. You were not particularly fond of the nickname either, but the way he said it, with disgust, it rubbed you the wrong way.

“Why are you here?” You asked slowly.

“Why are you hammered on a Tuesday night?” He held you up, putting you on your feet and calmly leading you to the bathroom.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Sebastian pressed his lips together at your deflection, deep down he knew. More than anyone he knew you were just pretending to be okay with being taken out of the fight for the championship. He knew you were hurting. He also wanted to tell you that wasn’t the way to go about it, but at the end of the day, you two weren’t really close.

“Get in the shower. Cold.” He said, walking out of the bathroom and closing the door behind himself.

He could hear the sound of the water running, so he went to the phone and ordered soup and tea from room service. He sat down on the armchair, somewhat worried about you. He had gone through that before, but he was also four times world champion, compared to you who was just in your second year, losing the opportunity to fight for the championship for a mistake that wasn’t yours and that was completely out of your hands.

You left the bathroom dressed in a fluffy robe, face clean off of remnants of makeup. But your eyes were puffy and red, and he wondered if you were crying in the shower. He didn’t ask.

“Since you look a little more sober, I’m going. Room service will bring you something to eat and something non-alcoholic to drink.”

You sat on the couch opposite to him, feeling a little better and a bit more sober. You watched as he got up, his blue eyes never leaving yours. You had many questions. But the most important one was why he was there. Why was he taking care of you? You knew he didn’t like you, he knew you knew it too. Before you could ask any of it, he walked towards the door.

“Thank you,” You mumbled. He only nodded, not bothering to look back at you. It was a quiet murmur, but some part of you hoped he knew that thank you wasn’t about just this instance, but also the time he consoled you when no one else did.

The rest of the season, you managed to get ahold of yourself since you knew, keeping wallowing in self pity would get you nowhere. So you focused on finishing the season better. Sebastian and you also didn’t grow particularly close in the following months, despite sometimes meeting his eyes across the room. There was always this underlying tension between you, like two people that knew a secret but swore to not talk about it.

During the Prize Giving Ceremony, you were mingling with some drivers, members of the team and from the FIA. You were known for being the life of the party, usually a social butterfly, always making connections and meeting new people.

But then, you made a small pause to grab a drink and some air, sitting down on a bench, when Sebastian made his way to you, a somewhat bright smile directed to you as he crossed the room. It was the first time he had ever directed that kind of smile to you. He looked like he had drunk a little bit.

“You look tipsy,” You pointed out as soon as he stopped before you. He grinned.

“High quality champagne,” Sebastian replied, sitting on the bench beside you, raising his flute for a toast. You replied by clicking your flute against his.

You two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, watching the party in full swing.

“You’re back to your old self,” Sebastian pointed out, suddenly. But it didn’t sound like a compliment nor a critique. So you didn’t reply, unsure of what he meant.

“Well, we all do what we gotta do,” You shrugged gently, with a small smile as you turned to face him and his bright blue eyes were already on your face.

“But, you know, it’s good to remember you’re very lucky to be here,” he said.

His words made you stop, your smile fading and that almost accomplice glinting in your eyes completely disappeared. And Sebastian frowned confused, seeing the way you put up your walls again, back to the frozen, fake smile you usually gave the media.

Lucky. You hated that word. You hated how everyone used to say you got lucky to be there. You got lucky to get into Formula 1. You got lucky to be a successful driver. Rarely did anyone mention the efforts you had to put into becoming that. The early mornings training, the absurd amount of time and distance away from your family. All the metaphorical slaps you had to endure with a straight face. Then you realized, Sebastian saw you just the way everyone else saw you. You were lucky, your spot was a gift not the consequence of your efforts.

And Sebastian noticed the shift in your expression in that very moment. He hadn’t meant to offend, and he wasn’t even sure why his words had ticked you off, but he could see. He was probably the only one in that whole room who could tell the real you from your persona, mostly due to the fact that he had seen the real you a couple of times.

“Princess, I-” He started again, but you cut him off.

“Don’t.”

He watched as you stood up, gave him a polite smile and a nod, before sauntering away.

The following year, your car was improved, and even better than the year before, you were up there in the stands, and after a third of the season, you and the team knew you were a contender for the championship. You did everything in your power to be the world champion that year. Your main competitor was Lewis Hamilton. Somehow, despite the fierce battles on track, you two managed to maintain a certain level of respect outside it. Probably because you two were different kinds of minority in that sport, or because he had learned a lesson with how everything had come down with Rosberg. Funnily enough, you two had managed a somewhat friendship that very year.

You and Sebastian, on the other hand, grew more distant than ever, and you barely spoke that year. You two kept this cold, polite façade in front of the media and other drivers.

Battle after battle, the media pressure only grew on your shoulders, you weren’t just a pretty face for the sponsors to plaster your face around, you showed a real driver existed behind that persona. And it pissed some people off, just because now you were a woman playing a big man’s sport. They nitpicked every mistake you made if you had made some, or they diminished your every win if you didn’t make a mistake. Because you were lucky. You were lucky that one time Vettel DNFed. You were lucky this one time Lewis Hamilton crashed out. You were lucky your tyres were better during some overtakes. You were lucky for that good pitstop.

When you became World Champion that year, during the Mexican GP, it had all been worth it to endure. The weight of the trophy in your hands, the way you hugged it to your chest in the top step of the podium, crying as the other drivers splashed you with champagne, that was the taste of the years of dedication paying off.

The celebrations were wild, the team, some of the other drivers, everyone congratulated you. You were at a nightclub, drink in hand when suddenly Sebastian Vettel appeared out of nowhere. You supposed all drivers were invited, but you didn’t expect him to actually show up.

He walked up at you, loose shirt, messy hair and flushed face. Biting his lip to hide a smile, that genuine smile he had given you only once since you met him. And Sebastian had never seen you so beautiful. He knew you were always pretty, like you were some sort of model, but in that moment, you looked genuinely happy, and the smile you could barely contain in your face made you even more stunning than you already were.

“Congratulations, Principessa,” He smiled, stopping beside you. At that moment, you didn’t even remember that you were ever upset with him, that you had barely spoken the whole season. He remembered very well that feeling of being champion, the relief and happiness.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry about what I said last year. I never meant to diminish you. And later on I understood why you felt upset by it.” Sebastian said, firmly. It made you feel validated, and it was nice that he had realized on his own.

“It’s okay. It’s water under the bridge.”

Sebastian nodded, understanding. You both went back to the party. And later that night you two were dancing on the dance floor with some other people. You were not physically close, more like jumping up and down and singing, facing each other, laughing. But there was that spark in each other’s eyes again, like there was a funny secret you two were keeping.

That’s how you two ended up going to his hotel, sitting silently in the back of a car, the windows a bit rolled down and the fresh air of the night hitting your faces. This silent tension that had always been brewing reached a boiling point. None of you moved or said anything, afraid of breaking the spell even on the way up to his floor. But the moment you crossed the threshold of his hotel room, you tiptoed to him, kissing him. He kicked the door shut, one arm around your waist as he pulled up to his height so he could properly kiss you. The other hand on the back of your head, pressing you further into him as if he wanted to merge with you, his lips and tongue coaxing yours open, his kiss all tongue and teeth as if he was starved for you. You two stumbled inside, but Sebastian managed to keep you upright by pressing you against a small side table, while you two laughed at his clumsiness.

When he put you down again, he reached for the back of your tube dress, tugging the zipper down, but it got stuck and he muttered a curse, which made you laugh again against his neck.

“Sorry about this,” he said, before forcefully tugging the dress, which made it rip off, and the dress fell down, pooled at your feet, leaving you naked in only your panties and shoes. He took a moment to take in your figure, humming appreciatively.

You took a step forward, removing his shirt without a second thought, followed by you also fumbling with his belt. You two were giggling when finally all clothes were out of the way and Sebastian pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply before pushing you into the bed. His lips around your nipples as his hands teased your body, touching, groping, feeling the smoothness of your skin.

When he climbed up, holding your head so you would look at him while his fingers fucked you open, there was this deep sense of intimacy in his eyes as he watched you. Then finally, he got on top of you, holding one of your thighs up against his waist and he sank down, in one deep stroke as you two moaned. His movements were slow and hard, enjoying every little thing about you. The soft sounds you made, your dilated pupils, the way your cunt fluttered around him when he hit a particularly perfect spot.

It didn’t take you long to come, your hands around his waist, nails sinking into his back. After you did, he knelt back, pulling your legs up, ankles by his shoulders as he then went even faster with each thrust, your moans growing louder as you went careening into a second orgasm, and soon he followed behind you, biting on your ankle to muffle his groans.

“Damn…” He sighed, breathless as he plopped on the bed right beside you.

“Damn is right…” You laughed.

After that, you two got in the shower, kissing and making out like teenagers, until he bent you over the glass wall, fucking you again until you two came again, your back to his chest and his hand down your front to tease you clit.

When you two fell on the bed again, you were out like a light.

The following morning you woke up painfully early, his arms around you as you situated yourself, when you checked your phone, you realized you were late to catch your flight. So you carefully removed yourself from his arms without waking him up, stole some clothes from his suitcase since your dress was ruined, and left in a cab.

You didn’t speak about through the final two races of the season and not at all during winter break. A small part of you had expected him to say something about what had happened. You were not sure what.

As the new season started the following year, the underlying tension between you now had a new kind of meaning behind it. Since you couldn’t look at each other and not think of that night. Of his hands tightening on your ass, of your nails scratching his back.

You decided to leave it all behind, focusing on the season and trying to strike that second consecutive championship. It was hard, it wasn’t that your car was bad, per se, but it was unreliable. Sometimes you were about to win a race when it suddenly had some sort of malfunction or some kind of shut down that had you DNF a race you should’ve won. Despite that, you made the best of it, achieving a couple of podiums and eventually, your first win of the season.

That night, you met with Sebastian again, the first real conversation ever since what had happened the year before. 

“Congratulations on the win,” He said with a smile.

“You too, congrats on the win last week.”

And just as the first time, soon you two were wrapped around each other in the elevator, lost in a desperate kiss. Kisses and giggles as you made your way stumbling to your hotel room. This time, he had you bent over the bed, hands on the mattress as he knelt down eating you out for the life of him until you had come fisting the sheets, then he got up and fucked you from behind.

You two laid on the bed, breathless and with a thin layer of sweat as he pulled you closer, a palm over your stomach, tracing all dips and curves lazily.

“Here we are again,” Sebastian whispered, and you looked at his eyes, shining blue and flushed face.

“Seems like we keep coming back for more…” You pointed out, with a laugh.

He was about to say something when his phone rang, and he found his jeans and picked up the call. You just watched as he started speaking on the phone, quickly grabbing his clothes and starting to dress up again.

“I’m sorry,” He said after finishing the call, buttoning up his pants, “We have a photoshoot to do, and I had completely forgotten about it.”

“It’s fine,” You said, sitting up on the bed.

He paused for a moment, looking at you all naked and debauched on the bed, looking especially delicious. Sebastian wished at that moment he could have taken a picture to keep with him forever while you looked like a goddess. He just pecked your lips, deep and fast, before scurrying off. A stupid smile in both of your faces that you couldn’t see.

Weirdly enough, you didn’t talk about that again. It was like you were two different people in other settings, but back in the motorsport world, you had no opening or desire to be that two people that stole kisses in hotel rooms. But the silent glances were still there, a knowing look exchanged. You didn’t grow any closer out of those brief moments in space and time.

As the season progressed, you got a somewhat grip on the car, even reaching second place in the standings for the WDC.

Your encounters with Sebastian also kept happening, at least once a month. You didn’t talk much about the nature of your relationship, about what it meant, or why it kept happening. It felt like you two were always focused on making the most of the little time you had. One of you would always leave in the middle of the night or early in the morning, without waking up the other, like a silent agreement.

Still, you had a growing feeling that Sebastian didn’t like you outside those fleeting moments. And you knew that those things could happen, you could have great bed chemistry and still not be friends or not particularly be fond of someone. Just sex. It was what you told yourself every time you had to see him be cold and distant during race weeks. You couldn’t help but remember those few years back when he called you a perfect PR doll in a conversation. The harshness in his voice when he talked about you that day still haunted you sometimes.

It all came to a head after you won consecutively the three races in the triple header, and the media was eating that up. But unfortunately, Sebastian had two DNFs and a qualifying so awful that he only managed to finish the last race P8. During the following media day, which had both of you in the same panel, you were asked some questions regarding your recent wins and the perspective of the championship. After replying, there was a small scoff that Sebastian’s mic caught.

“Anything to add to her reply, Sebastian?” The journalist asked.

“No, nothing much…” Sebastian scoffed, “I mean, with Red Bull’s rocketship, winning is what’s expected of it, no?”

The words hit you like a punch, and it took a herculean effort to keep a straight face and seem unaffected. But the wave of silence and tension that followed was enough to show that everyone had caught that jab. Lewis even muttered a disappointed “man…” to Sebastian, away from the mic.

You didn’t look at Sebastian again during that conference, but at that point he could tell your real smile from the fake one. He could see the discreet clench of your jaw and he knew deep down that he had fucked up massively.

That’s why that weekend after the race, one you had placed P3, he went to your motorhome before leaving the paddock, knocking on the door quickly. He waited for you to open the door, hoping and praying you had not left yet. When you finally did, dressed in casual clothes, probably about to leave, he could see the surprise on your face that you had not expected to see him there. You looked around to check if anyone was seeing that before pulling him inside.

“What do you want? Be quick.” You said, finishing packing your bag and barely looking at him.

“I’m sorry about what I said during media day. That was fucked up.” He said, carefully.

“Oh, fuck off, Sebastian…” You scoffed, “we both know you just said what has always been on your mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He frowned.

“Don’t play dumb now, Sebastian. Everyone knows. I know and so do you.”

“Know what?” He frowned, taking a step closer.

“That you hate me!” You exploded, turning to face him.

“Is that what you think?!” He asked, offended, “You think I’d have sex with someone I hate?”

“It never stopped anyone before…” You said, rolling your eyes, “Let’s be honest here. All the secrecy, all the never talking about it, never calling or texting before or after… I’m just the ‘Perfect Fake PR doll’  that you don’t like.”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, Sebastian frowned, but after a few seconds he remembered that he had said those exact words about you, with such annoyance and disgust. That was farthest from the truth, and he couldn’t dare to repeat those words now that he had seen so many raw, genuine parts of you.

“Listen, I just…” He sighed, “I just hate all this fakeness you sell. All this acting and playing a part.”

“It is survival!”

“Survival?” He scoffed, not buying your words, “you pretend to be someone you’re not to appease the world.”

“You wouldn’t ever know what this is about, Sebastian. You’re Formula One’s dream man. You’re the straight white guy they want, the perfect image for motorsports. Be fucking real with me. Do you think if I had half the attitude you do, I’d be treated like you? No, I’d be ostracized,” You said, eyes shining in defensiveness, like he was the enemy you had to pretend to, “I will do what I can to stay here. I do what I can to still have a seat and a career here. Everything I do, is to be perfect, to appease the audience, the sponsors, the FIA, everything, and I still have to deal with misogyny. I still have to hear people saying I should go back to the kitchen. So no, I won’t change.” It was like a dam had broken and you had to put out everything you felt, every pain you had regarding that.

Sebastian sighed, scratching his head. He had fucked up even more, because it had never gone through his head any of that. He had never thought of the backlash you must face, being a woman, about the difficulties to fit, to be accepted in an environment heavily made of older white men that liked things to stay the way they were.

“You got to see the real me, I let myself be vulnerable and genuine with you. God knows the reason why you have seen me more than anyone else has. And you get out there with your full chest implying that I’m winning because of the car, when you know the car has been unreliable and I’m bending over backwards to make this shitbox win races…” Your voice was shaken but you refused to let him see you cry again. That had become ammo in his arsenal one time, you wouldn’t repeat the same mistake again.

“I…” He stuttered like he had just been hit with that knowledge, ashamed that he had never stopped to think about any of that.

“You can hate me all you want, Sebastian. You can tell me you’d rather me be genuine, but I need to wear armor. Out there? I’ll still be the PR Doll you like to call me if it means I get to stay.”

“Principessa, I’m just so-” He started but you cut him off again.

“Just get out, Sebastian. This,” you pointed between you two, “was a mistake to begin with. We both know where we stand with each other.”

“I don’t hate you.” He said, suddenly.

“Right. You need to go.” You rolled your eyes.

“I need you to believe me in this. I don’t hate you.” He repeated, slowly, blue eyes pleading.

“Leave, Sebastian.” You said, not leaving room for argument. He took two steps back, knowing he wasn’t going to get through to you at that moment.

“I don’t hate you,” He said one last time, before turning around and leaving.

Let me know in the comments if you wanna be tagged for part 2!

[madeofstardust17]

So what really bothers me about this season was how they reducer every single character to their most basic cliches, when in previous seasons they were so much more than that. Hear me out:

Luther was made into this happy-go-lucky, dumb himbo, when in reality, he's a guy who takes stuff seriously, who does his best to take care of everyone, and has emotional depth. They took that away from him. He's smart, even if they try to make it out like he isn't. They reduced him to just endless positivity and a pretty body (and even that they turned into a joke, giving him an ape body again and ignoring all his trauma related to that).

Diego was reduced to this useless, bitter, suburban dad, who thinks he's owed more than he has. In reality, he was so excited to be a dad. He's a good detective, he's empathetic, he has this sensitivity that he tries to hide but shines when he talks to others. More than anything, he's a provider, he thrives when he has someone to protect, to care for.

Allison has always been a badass, and a good mom. They made that shine, but she was so much more than that. She was complex, and endlessly optimistic, fighting for what was right. She was a good sister, and they made her bitter about that too.

Klaus was reduced to just humor, and not even well done. His little adventures used to mean something for him, and to the plot. They just made him a whore and did nothing for him. The only good thing I will say was that they took his addiction seriously for once. Still, he was useless to the plot, when once he was the key they were all missing.

Five. Oh my fucking God. They did him the most dirty. He would come off as aloof and uncaring, but underneath it, we all understood he loved his family more than anything, that he did everything in his power to protect them. They reduced him to that facade, they made him cold and selfish, willing to hurt his sibling just for his own personal gain.

With Ben, they spent the entire past season making him into this guy who was really rubbish at being the bad guy, who wanted a real family deep down. They reduced him to this asshole who spent the entire season swearing up and down that the umbrellas where not his family.

With Viktor, they tried to make him this cool, confident, independent (apparently womanizer?) dude who gave zero shits about his family. WHEN ALL HE EVER WANTED WAS HIS SIBLINGS' RESPECT. HE WANTED TO BE PART OF THE TEAM. And then they proceeded to make him work??? With his abusive dad???? Who suddenly cared???? And he ignored the rest of his siblings until the last possible minute.

Lila was always the cool, independent, secure woman, who didn't really need a man. They spent two seasons assuring us that she could be on her own just fine, but Diego completed her. He was the perfect person for her, bc he could give her what she craved, a family, people she could rely on. Instead on continuing that, finding a way to balance her family and a job (or something) to let her be something more than just a bored suburban mom, they made her into this insecure woman in her marriage, who just tosses it all aside for FIVE. Who is so incompatible with her that is not even funny.

If you've read this entire rant, congrats, you have my respect.

[pjo-tvs-version]

I know that no one asked but I just wanted to add my two cents to the current pjo era we are having right now...

First off, I love Rick and the books he has written but honestly tsast and wottg aren't some of his best works. That's not the problem because yeah not all books can be amazing but the problem is that they are his most recent ones. Cotg was better than these 2 but it too had it's drawbacks. Now I have this thing where if I like something then however bad it it, I try to make myself enjoy it. It's like a coping mechanism- delusion. But with wottg, I actually sat back and thought. Since when did I take a week to finish a pjo book? I am the person who finished Hoo in like less than a week and I took a week to finish wottg which took me aback. The characters were very oc. Grover was perhaps the only character close to his actual well character. I don't usually nitpick but like I had said in a post earlier, continuity and callbacks in a book series are what make them extremely enjoyable and small textual errors are like pricking needles to me.

My main issue was Annabeth and then Percy. Look in know in this fandom there are many Annabeth antis and that's fine, I accept that. But now the worst part is that what they have said about Annabeth is to some extent true in this current Annabeth version we have. Look Leah is great and I love her with all my heart but Rick please don't mingle both of them together. Let show cannon be separate and book cannon to itself. Let Annabeth in wottg be her book character like please. She has friends? Great! The main thing we know about her friends are that they think Percy isn't GOOD ENOUGH for her? Awful! She is the mom friend? Okay(though I personally believe it should be Grover but fine if people are okay with it this is just a personal opinion guys)! BUT that should not make Percy 'alley boy.'

This brings me to the second part. We love Percy and love his humor. Well I recently reread the Battle of the Labyrinth (don't ask why I don't know I just had the sudden urge to read it). He isn't very confident and does underestimate himself often but it wasn't taken this FAR. Every single next line was describing how Percy sucks at everything while Annabeth is here in all her perfect glory and believe it or not this is coming from me, who loves Annabeth. I love Percabeth because it's a balance. They balance off each other soo well. They both comfort each other. They both know that they are smart. They both know that the other person has flaws. But in wottg it's just downright annoying because the dynamic is just "ooh look my gf is soo amazing, totally flawless with no error and here is me who sucks at any and every thing possible." This isn't the Percy we know nor Annabeth nor Percabeth.

LET ANNABETH BE IMPERFECT! AND PLEASE GIVE PERCY THERAPY because he needs it. For the next book Rick please just hire a better editor because I am not going into the MISTAKES in these books. You can hire me if you want because I swear I can do a better job than your editor. Seriously literally any pjo fan would do a better job. Wottg felt like maybe the second draft of the work which required maybe 3 more drafts to be published. It felt like an unchecked fanfiction and believe me that I have seen better fanfictions on AO3. The pjo fandom is an extremely loyal fanbase which is an extremely cool thing. But the problem here is that people like m even though I didn't really enjoy wottg, I would still hope for a better sequel because gaaahhhh optimism. I am actually wary of the sequel to tsast but that's for another post.

Whew! Talking so negatively about something was a new experience for me because I absolutely love pjo and will always keep it close to my heart. Rick please for the sake of advertisement please don't publish uncooked gibberish because it actually breaks my heart too see the hate and for once I understand it. Anyway, wottg wasn't all that bad. To balance out this post, I'll make one on the portions I liked because there were a few moments that were worth reading. Extremely sorry for the scattered thoughts and the rant but thank you and have a great day everyone !

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Love strategy p.2

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy part 2, here's part 1 if you've missed it :)

With your plan set in motion, you and Lando meet up to finalize the details of your fake relationship. The two of you sit in a quiet corner of a café, huddled over your drinks, hashing out the rules. You lean forward, fingers tapping nervously against your cup.

"Okay, if we're really doing this, we can’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say firmly, setting the first boundary. Lando scoffs, leaning back in his chair, looking offended. “Who would I tell?” he asks indignantly, his face scrunched in mock insult.

You give him a long, pointed look. He blinks. "Okay, okay, fine!" he relents. "Second rule: no getting involved with anyone else. That would just make things messy."

"As if I’d do something so stupid," you shoot back, rolling your eyes. "Alright, third rule: no kissing."

Lando’s expression shifts, a playful glint sparking in his eyes. "No kissing? How are we supposed to make this look real?" he teases, leaning in closer. "Come on, kisses aren’t that big of a deal."

You narrow your eyes. "Not a big deal? You're seriously underestimating—"

Before you can finish, Lando’s hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and suddenly his lips are on yours. It’s soft at first, almost like he’s testing the waters, but then he deepens the kiss, his thumb brushing against your jawline in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

You freeze for a moment, caught completely off guard. This was not in the plan. But the heat of the kiss, the way his touch makes your skin tingle, it’s impossible to resist. Without thinking, you find yourself kissing him back, your hands gripping his shirt to steady yourself.

When he pulls away, there’s a mischievous smirk on his face. "See?" he says, voice low and a little breathless. "Not so bad, is it?"

You stare at Lando for a long moment, still reeling from the kiss, but slowly coming back to the task at hand. "Alright," you say finally, though your voice is softer now. "Kisses… only when necessary. We're trying to sell this, after all."

Lando’s grin widens, clearly pleased with himself. "Necessary, huh? I can work with that."

You roll your eyes, but there's a small smile playing on your lips. "Anyway, we should post a picture together, somewhere casual. That way, when we 'come out' as a couple, it won’t look too sudden. People will have seen us together before."

Lando nods, the wheels clearly turning in his mind. "Smart. It’ll make everything look more natural."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief as the plan starts to take shape. But before you can dwell on it for too long, Lando leans in again, his tone casual but deliberate. "Speaking of tomorrow, you should fly with me instead of Carlos. It’ll help sell the whole thing."

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback. "Fly with you? That would be… weird. People will notice, and I’ve always flown with Carlos."

"Exactly," Lando says, his voice dropping to that mischievous tone again. "That’s the point. It’ll get people talking. That’s what we want, right?"

You hesitate, biting your lip. He’s right. But it feels strange, going from your usual routine with Carlos to something more calculated with Lando. "I don’t know," you murmur, your mind racing. "It just feels like—"

"Weird?" Lando finishes for you, a knowing look in his eyes. "It’s supposed to. But trust me, it’ll work."

You sigh, knowing he’s right, but still feeling conflicted. "Fine. I’ll text Carlos about it."

With a slight sense of unease, you pull out your phone and shoot Carlos a quick message:

Hey, I won’t be flying with you tomorrow. Going with someone else.

It doesn’t take long for him to respond:

Alright. Cool, no worries.

The shortness of the reply catches you off guard, leaving a strange feeling in your chest. You had expected at least a hint of curiosity, maybe a question, but instead, Carlos doesn’t seem to care at all. You stare at the screen, feeling a twinge of sadness that you hadn’t anticipated.

You blink back the unexpected disappointment, trying to shake it off, but the feeling lingers. Lando notices the shift in your expression and raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, slipping your phone back into your pocket. "Just… Carlos doesn’t really care."

Lando frowns slightly, his gaze softening. "You sure you’re okay with all of this?"

You force a smile, pushing down the sadness. "Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just weird, that’s all."

Lando watches you for a moment longer, but then nods, his tone gentle. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I care."

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "Thanks, Norris. That helps… a little."

He grins. "Good. Now, let’s figure out what else we're doing because we’ve got to look convincing."

Here's part 3

Tag list: @abq654 , @spaceflowergal, @mads94sworld, @anewpersonthatexists, @qlovalova, @itsskavya

[riordanness]

pick up lines - [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.4K

warnings: none

I hated waking up.

Not that sleeping was particularly amazing, being a demigod and all, but waking up really sucked. I'd been resting peacefully (not), when I was rudely shaken from my sleep by the breakfast bell.

Unfortunately, I had never been an early riser, so most mornings, there was a mad rush, involving a lot of mess, losing everything I needed, and desperately trying, (and failing) to clean up my cabin before inspection, which was right after breakfast.

I was generally the one who had the messiest cabin during inspection.

I finally was dressed in jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, with my h/c hair pulled away from my face. Then, I ran to the dining pavilion.

I was a daughter of Demeter, the plant goddess. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are thinking: Oh, wow, plants... But seriously, it's kinda cool. I do have some pretty sweet powers. I can grow any plants from practically nothing, control plants and stuff, and sense things in the earth. I can even use plants to travel instantly from one place to another, by just hopping through the trees, or seeds, or flowers, or weeds, or . . . whatever.

I slipped into my seat next to Katie Gardner, my elder sister. She was the counsellor for Cabin Demeter. Katie was super nice, but she was always busy at the moment, mostly hanging out with her new boyfriend, Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes.

"You slept in again," Katie whispered to me, trying, and failing epically, to hide her laughter. "We thought it was best not to try and wake you."

That was probably smart. If someone woke me up, they'd most likely leave that situation with a black eye and seeds growing in their skin. I can be fairly lethal when I want to be.

"I stated up too late again last night," I said back, my voice also low. I didn't like when other kids were listening in on my conversations, especially those Hermes kids.

"Doing what?" Katie smirked, like she knew something I didn't.

"Um..." What was I doing? Hanging out with my best friend of course. Who also happened to be the cutest and most popular guy at camp. The only current Son of Posiedon. Percy Jackson.

"I was with Percy, at the beach. We were finding lost starfish and chucking them back in the water..." My voice faltered. I wasn't good at lying. 'At the beach' was accurate. We'd been laying on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, and just talking about everything and anything, for hours. We did that almost every night. It was the best feeling in the world, just being with him.

"Uh huh." Katie turned back to her food. "He likes you, y/n, I'm sure of it. Just as much as you like him, I bet."

"Katie!" I hissed, my face beet red, but the words pleased me. I'd had a crush on Percy Jackson since the first day he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bruised and scratched from fighting the Minotaur. He'd limped into camp, stole my heart, and became the coolest guy at camp within a month.

And yes, I was in love with him. We'd been best friends for years, and we hung out all the time. How could I possibly not fall for him, with his stupid trouble-maker grin, his dark, messy hair, his sparkling sea-green baby-seal eyes, and his voice. He was, at least in my eyes, perfect.

***

Later, I was practicing my sword-fighting in the arena, hacking arms and legs and heads off the stuffed straw dummies. I'd never been the best fighter, but I felt like I was getting the hang of my sword.

"Are you a child of Hermes?" a joking voice rang out from behind me. I spun around, and came face to face with one of the Hephestus kids. Leo Valdez, maybe?

I blew my hair out of my face, breathing hard. "Um, no? Demeter, actually. Why?"

The boy, Leo, cracked a grin. "Because you stole my heart."

I blinked, not sure what to say. I never really spoke to any of the kids from Hephestus cabin, especially not this one.

"Uh, okay... thanks, I guess?"

Leo grinned again, then ran off without saying anything else. Okay... that was pretty weird.

I decided to go for a walk, to cool down and to stretch my legs a bit, so I headed for the basketball courts, where a bunch of kids were playing a really aggressive game.

I plopped down on the grass a few meters back from the courts, and watched the game. It looked like Ares and Apollo (a strange match), against Athena, Dionysus, and a couple other kids, like Jason Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Percy.

I found myself watching Percy more than the other players, but snapped my eyes away from him once I realised. I didn't want anyone seeing me staring at my best friend.

After a while, the players called for a break, and Jason Grace approached me. "Oh, hey (Y/N)," he smiled at me, sitting beside me and taking a swig of water from a drink bottle.

"Hey," I said back. Again, I was surprised at why Jason was talking to me. He didn't usually. Demeter kids were looked over quite a bit, and Jason was one of the big shots - a child of Zeus. Of course, Percy was a son of Posiedon, and he talked to me, but that was different. I'd known Percy for years, even before we came here at twelve years old. I'd know him since he was seven.

"Are you a child of Hades?" Jason asked suddenly.

I frowned at him. "No. Demeter, actually. Why does everyone keep-?"

I was cut off by Jason grinning and saying: "Because I'm dying to call you mine."

I swallowed. "Um..."

Jason got up and walked away, heading back to his game. I was totally confused, so I stood up, brushed off my jean shorts, and decided to go to the strawberry fields, where I usually spent most of my time, among the plants. Plants always calmed me down, and this random guys telling me pick-up lines were a little stressful. I wasn't the kind of girl who normally got guys, anyway.

After a few minutes of walking up and down the strawberry aisles, I ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico wasn't usually the sort of person you ran into in the strawberry fields, so I was surprised.

"Oh, hi, Nico," I said cheerily, waving at him. Nico and I were actually pretty good friends, so I was glad to see him. We got along surprisingly well, considering our parents' rivalry. You know, the whole Persephone getting kidnapped thing.

"Are you a child of Hephestus?" Nico stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

At this point, I was utterly confused.

"No!" I said, frowning. "I'm a daughter of Demeter, and I know you know that, Nico. And why does everyone keep trying these stupid pick-up lines on me? Besides... you like guys, don't you?"

"Well, um..." Nico shrugged and ran off, leaving me in a state of helpless confusion.

I sank to my knees in the soft grass, picking at it with my fingers. "What's happening with me today?" I wondered aloud.

"Hey, are you Aphrodite?" a familiar voice asked. "Because you're divinely gorgeous."

I glanced up, meeting the sea-green eyes of my best friend. "Percy?" I asked. "You too? What's-?"

Percy stopped me, sitting down cross-legged beside me. "Hey, I've- I've liked you for ages, but I never told you because I was scared you'd not feel the same and so we'd lose our awesome friendship, but the guys found out and so they were trying to make me jealous enough to admit me feelings today, by trying out pick-up lines on you, so, well, I- I decided that I should just tell you.”

I sucked in a breath. "Oh my gods," I managed. "You stupid son of Posiedon."

"What?" Percy chuckled nervously.

"Are you a child of the Sea God?" I asked softly. "Because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes."

Gathering all my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against Percy's, feeling him smile against my lips, and I couldn't have wished for anything more.

[pomefioredove]

anyway I'm only thinking about this because I really like different origin explanations for yuu

(not as a theory, more like a "wouldn't this be cool?" thing)

canon yuu as we know them is our symbolic alice, right? the game is called twisted wonderland, the first dorm they deal with is heartslabyul, and similarly to alice in the disney movie and original book, they're a small, effeminate person lost in a world they don't understand, where they're in constant danger and never taken seriously

but I also really like the idea of villain!yuu

for this concept to work, though, it couldn't be a Disney villain whose already in TWST. no Frollo, no Maleficent, none of that. but it also has to be a villain who's different from the others. Yuu is our main character, after all, and it would be strange to have them be a run-of-the-mill villain, like... say, Captain Hook. it just wouldn't make sense

so they would have to be a villain that's quite different from the others, and they would have to be a villain who isn't well known in Twisted Wonderland. so, no "Righteous Judge" or "Great Seven" equivalent

they would have to have been forgotten. abandoned by history

now, we know that the Great Seven are remembered as heroes, but even minor characters have their folk tales and admirers, so being a niche villain isn't a good enough excuse. this villain would have to have been bad. worse than Frollo, worse than the Evil Queen, worse than Maleficent. someone so terrible that there were no survivors left to write them as a hero. someone so terrible that other mages had to cover them up

(I read a pretty neat theory about there having been an eighth member of the great seven who was eventually written over, which I'll link¹ later since I found it AS I was writing this, and the op and I had the same idea!)

but the theory essentially states that NRC originally had eight dorms, with Ramshackle being the forgotten dorm

in TWST canon, Ramshackle is based on the Mickey Mouse cartoons of the 30s (Lonesome Ghosts in particular) but it wouldn't be unrealistic to say that, if it had been an eighth dorm that was abandoned, especially if it was a very old one, it would have gone through centuries of renovations, just to fall out of use around the Victorian-equivalent era

then there's Yuu

and there are the questions: if they were a twisted villain, why do they have no magic? where did they come from? why are they here? and how do they have their memories, if they're from Twisted Wonderland?

I'll do one at a time:

!. The Question of Memory

canon Yuu is really interesting because they're so... well... Yuu. they're implied to have many talents, perhaps more than a normal person should have at their supposed age, they're strong, smart, and "less innocent than they seem", as Malleus said

but if Yuu was from Twisted Wonderland, then why do they have memories of home?

well... what if they were lying?

bear with me. now, maybe they could remember their past, and are withholding it, or (and this makes more sense to me), they don't remember their past and are pretending they do. why? because they have snippets of memory of who they once were, and they don't want anyone else to see them as that person. for any number of reasons

they could also just be confused and lost and trying to piece together their past, and is hoping that Crowley being able to send them back "home" will restore their full memory

okay, but what if "home" doesn't exist as they remember it?

Yuu is known to have "visions" of the past/future (which I will come back to), and it's likely that the only thing they remember about their "home" is the visions they have of it. the "home" they see is a place that no longer exists. and, as it was once ruled by a villain so evil that the world did everything they could to cover it up, there's no mention of it in history books. that's why Crowley can't find their home on a map or in a book

2. The Question of Magic

Yuu is canonically magicless. or so we're told

the Dark Mirror basically says that they have "nothing" in their soul. they can't cast spells or wield a magic pen

but they also have visions of the past, can connect with other realms, and aren't fucking dead, even after being hurt so many times, which, to me, can be explained by magic

Yuu has magic. they just can't use it

something could be blocking their magic pool, or they could have just forgotten how to use it (via the memory loss), or their magic manifests in other ways

I do really want to talk about Yuu's strength, though. I've had discussions about this before, because Yuu, despite being called small/weak by the other characters, is ridiculously powerful

here's the big thing: they don't die

six overblots, the prologue in the mine, book 6, glomas, playful land, the many in-school fights, the hypothermic conditions at Ramshackle, and Yuu is still healthy and alive

hell, they've probably been poisoned at least once. being friends with Kalim, Vil's overblot, and Lilia's cooking are all strong contenders

and they are. STILL. ALIVE!

maybe their magic isn't casting fireball. maybe it's something deeper. darker. maybe Yuu can't die

because Yuu is already dead.

3. How?

how Yuu even ended up in Twisted Wonderland is (supposedly) a mystery. at least, I don't think it's been explained yet...?

I'm gonna say it's not. for the sake of my essay

they don't know how they got here, and supposedly have no memory of the moments leading up to their arrival. where did they come from? why are they here? and how?

what if, bear with me, Yuu was dead. Yuu was dead, and something brought them back

the "world" they came from, the reason why their memories are so cloudy and vague, was actually the underworld

now Yuu is this undead thing, who was once an incredibly powerful mage, but whose magic is now being entirely used to keep them breathing and walking. so they can't be casting lightning bolt

(it would also be cool if Yuu had overblotted in a past life and that's what killed them but that's not a part of this essay)

being undead would explain how nothing kills them, why they can't properly wield magic (it's more like magic is wielding them, tbh), and why the Dark Mirror thought they had no soul

HOW they were brought back to the mortal world, I can't decide. there's so many good options- Crowley did some very illegal necromancy shit, Grim accidentally triggered something at NRC, or perhaps Yuu in their state of decay, used all their remaining magic to revive themselves, sacrificing their magic pool and their memories in the process. the latter being my favorite. Yuu necromancer

4. ...And Consequence

as we all know, shit gets weird at NRC after Yuu enrolls. I've seen a lot of REALLY fun theories about why this is, here's mine:

Yuu, being the absolute power source that they are, being associated with death and disaster and necromancy, is indirectly causing the blots by leaking so much fucking magic into their environment that it's making the more powerful mages like 10x more likely to overblot

that's it. they just attract death and destruction to them

5. Final Remarks

there are other little things I think would make this make sense. why aren't they afraid of Malleus (or, like anything)? because they're worse. much worse. and even though they can't remember everything, they know that

but the name! Yuu! that's not connected to any villains!

BUT IT IS, because "Yuu" is not their real name. it's supposed to sound like "you" because they made it up on the spot. it's almost as if... names are a source of weakness to powerful mages... and they're withholding theirs because they remember that

Grim could either be some rando Twisted Wonderland thing or he could be the source of their visions. I haven't quite decided yet

Malleus once says that Yuu is "not as innocent as they seem", which would make me wonder if he knows something the others don't. or if Lilia does. or even Silver. Briar Valley is medieval in many ways, and if anyone would keep record of a villain so evil and powerful that the rest of history buried them entirely, it would be Briar Valley

if Yuu did have an overblot, it would be bad. Idia Shroud bad. Malleus Draconia bad. worse, even, if Yuu is an experienced necromancer and can induce (and possibly manipulate) blot

6. The End

let me TLDR this: this Yuu is not "Yuu", but an ancient and powerful mage who necromancied themself back to life and ended up at NRC with a clouded memory of their past life. the ~figure~ they're based on was so horrible and destructive that they were intentionally forgotten, written over by the few survivors of their evil. this figure being so ancient that they are older than Briar Valley, so ancient that Yuu has visions of a "home" that hasn't existed in thousands of years

Yuu has a strong association with death and undeath, a means into seeing the past, present and future, and into connecting with other worlds. their home, their history, their ruler was forgotten, written over because it was so bad it couldn't be associated with anything but death and destruction

basically, what if Yuu wasn't Alice.

what if Yuu was The Horned King?

1 https://www.tumblr.com/valy-gc/746674187452792832?source=share

[deaddovedecadence]

Hello, how do you think the batfam will react to a reader with bad habits? And the reader is underage. Like at one time the reader got into not the best company or just wanted to seem cool, and now she smokes, maybe reader abuses alcohol. I'm just wondering how the batfamcan handle this.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Alfred

disapproving english eyebrow™️

no but seriously he’s have you detoxing the minute he finds out about it. Having a nice drink at dinner with the family is fine but only if he’s able to supervise what you are drinking and how much. He’s be damned if he has to deal with another bruce

Bruce Wayne

doesn’t panic, even if his brain is screaming at him to trap you away forever and keep you from everything that could hurt you.

Calls in Dinah to talk to you about what is and isn’t safe for you because he will fuck it up and if he fucks you up after all of this progress that you guys have been making, duke will be the cause of his murder

Dick Grayson

oldest daughter exhaustion because he does NOT want to deal with another jason-smoking-to-fuck-with-bruce-and-becoming-addicted situation.

Tells you that if you don’t knock it off he will make you and is smiling while promising that you will not enjoy his methods

Jason Todd

panics his ass off

He yells at you for being stupid because he’s trying to quit and how did you get into that and why did you ever think it’s a smart idea and just panics in general

Cassandra Cain

thinks that it’s easily solvable, most reasonable

She starts you excerising with her every single time you get the urge so that you literally can’t move your arms anymore. Duke often joins in and eventually it becomes a form of bonding for the three of you

Duke Thomas

he gets you patches or helps wean you off of it because they’re a good sibling like that.

honestly to themself, takes the time to think about whether they want to keep you addicted and act like the good sibling by keeping you supplied increasing your dependence on them but then realizes that his brain is getting a little too demony for their taste and stops

Tim Drake

makes you listen as he lists every side effect of every substance that you are taking

threatens the crowd that you were with if you don’t start quitting immediately. Feels a cold quit is good punishment for being on substances in the first place

Damian Wayne

thinks it’s stupid and yells at you, considers violence but is restrained by duke and dick

[k-aay]

WHAT... MY GIRL?

synopsis :: when their friend confesses to liking a certain someone that they are very familiar with. but they cannot do anything since they're supposed to keep the relationship a secret. and it's someone they'll never let go no matter how close they are. so what do they do in that situation? featuring :: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna (part 2/2)

☆ CHOSO

He sits along the bleachers, watching as you practice with the students and have fun. It's the most beautiful sight: you smiling and laughing while being yourself with others. Seeing that brings a shade of pink to his cheeks, making him feel all warm inside. "Hey," Choso recognizes the voice of his brother beside him. The boy takes a seat beside him, happily admiring the view Choso had seen before. "What's making you so happy today?" Yuji questions. Choso shrugs his shoulders, trying to play cool as he remembers your orders about not telling anyone about your relationship yet. "Nothing."

Being his older brother, Choso noticed everything about Yuji. How he acted when he was embarrassed, upset, happy and as of right now, conflicted. He had something weighing on his mind and Choso spotted that immediately. "What happened?" he breaks the silence, catching Yuji off-guard. He takes a moment to think before sighing. "Okay, you promise you won't tell anyone?" Choso nods his head. "y/n," he speaks, pointing at you. In that moment, the older brother knew what was going on but didn't want to give in to that thought.

He didn't want to admit the fact that his younger sibling had a crush on you. His girlfriend. His partner. "What about her?" he questions, sounding more panicked by the minute. "I like her," Yuji admits. "She's funny, smart and a good person overall!" Of course, Choso knew all of that already. You were everything Yuji described you as and more. He couldn't blame him for falling for you. Even Choso fell head over heels all over again just by the sight of you smiling.

"I know," Choso mumbles shortly after Yuji spoke. "Sorry, I didn't hear you properly. What'd you say?" He could feel a mix of emotions rising but only one of them was clear enough to him: jealousy. "You can't like her. I'm sorry but she's my girlfriend. I don't think I could let go of her so easily."

☆ TOJI

The man watched as his friend, Shiu filled out a few documents lying on the table. Toji knew him well enough that he barely made any mistakes at all. But spilled coffee and papers that were messily completed were all he needed to know to prove that his friend was distracted. Something was on his mind. "The hell is wrong with you?" he asks. "Got a new girlfriend?" Shiu rolls his eyes and continues with his work. "Nothing's wrong with me. And no, I don't have a new girlfriend." Toji lifts his feet and puts them on the nearby coffee table placed in front of him. "Bullshit. Something's wrong."

The sigh that escaped his lips signalled that he was on the edge of venting what was on his mind. "You know the girl that transferred here like a few months ago?" Toji takes a moment to think before something snaps together, "y/n?" Shiu nods his head. "I asked her out the other day but she turned me down and hasn't really spoken to me since." Normally, the man with his feet on the table would've been laughing and teasing his friend about this. This time, seriousness pooled over and left him annoyed and the reason was none other than you. "You asked y/n out?"

Shiu could've been attracted to anyone but of course, it had to be you. With your beautiful face, your intriguing personality and the way you make other people feel. Especially Toji. You made him feel alive in so many different ways no one could ever come close to. "... Yeah?" Shiu answered, causing the other to scoff. "Really, man? You had to ask out my girl?"

"Your girl?" Shiu repeated. "Yes. Don't you ever fucking walk up to her again, alright?"

☆ SUKUNA

He was a lot of things but jealous was never one of them. And he would love to continue that streak. Feeling such a thing for a person he could easily kill? He would rather die himself. You brought him to a party which was, in your opinion, a bad idea now that you really thought about it later on. He was uninterested in everything others did in the crowded place you people called "fun." That's when he saw someone he recognized before while you were chatting with others. They walked up to Sukuna, a blank expression on their face. "Uraume?" he speaks.

"Did you get dragged here too?" they question. Sukuna nods in response, watching as you talk with some guy. "Do you know who that is?" Uraume nods their head, "Yeah. He was running around the entire place earlier and hitting on random women." A feeling within him struck and burned. "Now that I think about it, he did have a thing for y/n." That was more than enough reason to interrupt the chat you were having with this ass. Maybe it was for the reason of your safety, but he couldn't deny the sunken feeling he had in his chest. Jealousy.

It wasn't as bad as he thought. In reality, it gave him a rush. Knowing that you wouldn't dare to be with anyone other than him filled Sukuna with all the reassurance he needed. Also knowing that he could rip off all the limbs of the low-lives who even thought of talking to you to take what was already set as his made his blood boil even more (in a good way?) He stood behind you, placing his arm around your waist.

"Who's your friend here?" he asks carefully, glaring at the so-called "man" in front of him. "Just... someone," you spoke. He lowered his head so his lips reached your ear, "Tell this 'someone' that you have to leave early before he's never seen again."

[httpvomitello]

Oh great writer, write for me a request of the Rise turtles reacting to getting surprise kissed/booped on the nose (whatever you prefer) and my LIFE, is yours!!

Jokes take your time obvs and no rush! Love your work!!

AAAAAAAKHDKSBSKJS OMG, These kinds of comments make me so happy, seriously! You guys always have such good suggestions, that it makes me want to do everything at once. Anyway, I hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Unexpected Affection *⁠.⁠✧

Leo prided himself on being cool under pressure, but you? You always managed to throw him off his game.

It was a quiet night on the rooftops, the city buzzing faintly below. You had tagged along, keeping him company while the others were off in different parts of the city. As usual, he was trying to impress you, swinging his swords around in flashy movements.

“Pretty cool, right?” he said, grinning at you as he flourished his katana.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm… yeah, I guess that was alright.”

Leo’s grin faltered for half a second before he dramatically clutched his chest. “Alright? That was the height of ninja excellence!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, stepping closer to him. “Alright, fearless leader, I’ll give you that.”

Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him right on the nose.

Leo froze, his swords clattering to the ground as his face turned bright red. “Wha—what was that?!”

You shrugged, trying to look innocent. “A little thanks for keeping me company.”

“I—you—you can’t just—” He sputtered, pointing at his nose. “You kissed me!”

“Is that a problem?” you teased, leaning in just a little closer.

Leo opened his mouth, then closed it, his brain clearly short-circuiting. Finally, he managed to croak, “Nope. No problem. Totally fine. Do that anytime.”

You grinned, patting his cheek. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

For the rest of the night, Leo was unusually quiet, and if his brothers noticed his red face when you returned, they were smart enough not to comment.

Raph wasn’t one for surprises. He liked to know what was coming, to protect his brothers and yourself too. So naturally, you loved catching him off guard.

The two of you were sparring in the lair, his massive frame towering over you as he carefully pulled his punches. “C’mon, Y/N, you gotta keep your guard up!” he said, smirking as you tried to land a punch.

“I am keeping my guard up,” you shot back, wiping sweat from your forehead.

“Not enough,” he teased, lunging toward you.

Instead of dodging, you stepped forward, catching him completely off guard as you reached up and booped him on the nose.

Raph blinked, stumbling back a step. “Did you just—”

“Boop,” you said, grinning as you tapped his nose again for good measure.

His face turned a deep shade of red, and for a moment, he looked utterly dumbfounded. Then he started to stutter, crossing his arms over his chest. “W-Why you... I m-mean... Why?”

“You were leaving yourself wide open,” you said innocently.

Raph sputtered, his blush creeping down his neck. “That’s not—ugh, this is a low blow.”

You laughed, patting his arm. “You love it.”

He grumbled something under his breath but didn’t push you away. And later, when he thought you weren’t looking, he touched his nose with a faint smile on his lips.

Donnie was in his element, tinkering with one of his many gadgets in the lab. You sat nearby, pretending to understand the stream of technobabble coming from him as he worked.

“So, by recalibrating the flux capacitor—”

“Pretty sure that’s from Back to the Future, Donnie,” you interrupted, smirking.

He paused, blinking at you over the rim of his glasses. “Uh, no, actually. This is a genuine flux capacitor. I created it myself.”

You couldn’t help but grin. He was so proud of his work, and you loved seeing him in his element. “Of course, you did, Don.”

He went back to his project, muttering to himself about the merits of his invention. You waited until he was fully focused, then leaned forward and kissed him gently on the nose.

Donnie stoped, his hand stilling mid-adjustment. His brain seemed to take a moment to catch up, and when it did, he turned to you with wide eyes. “Did you just… kiss me?”

“Yup,” you said, leaning back with a smug smile.

He blinked rapidly, his face slowly turning red as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “That was… unexpected.”

“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Good,” he said quickly, then seemed to realize how eager he sounded. “I mean, uh, it was… acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” you teased.

Donnie cleared his throat, turning back to his work in an attempt to hide his blush. “Don’t read too much into it, Y/N.”

But the way his hand kept drifting to his nose told you all you needed to know.

Mikey was always the one surprising you, so you figured it was time to turn the tables.

The two of you were in the kitchen, baking cookies—well, you were baking, and Mikey was mostly sneaking bites of dough when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Hey, hands off!” you said, smacking his wrist lightly as he reached for another scoop of dough.

“Aww, c’mon, Y/N, it’s a chef’s duty to taste-test!” he protested, grinning.

“You can taste-test once they’re baked,” you said firmly, rolling your eyes.

Mikey pouted, leaning dramatically against the counter. “You’re no fun.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his antics. Then, without warning, you leaned over and kissed him on the nose.

Mikey's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in surprise. “Did you just—”

“Yup,” you said, smirking as you went back to rolling out the dough.

He stood there for a moment, his brain clearly trying to process what had just happened. Then, a wide grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands.

“You do love me,” he said, his voice sing-song.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mikey.”

“Too late!” he said, laughing as he grabbed the dough and smeared a bit on your nose. “Now we’re even!”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help laughing as he darted out of reach, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

And if he was extra cheerful for the rest of the night, no one commented on it.

[mcflymemes]

GONE GIRL (2014) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

what are you thinking? how are you feeling? what have we done to each other?

i felt i needed to shoot something.

we've never fucked in a bookstore.

you know i have to kiss you now.

sometimes i want to punch us in the face, we're so cute.

when you're upset, you bottle up.

brought you a present.

i need you. now. touch me.

that's very sweet of you and very unnecessary.

pour me a bourbon, would you?

it's a bad day.

i'm so crazy, stupid happy.

i met a boy. a great, gorgeous, sweet, cool-ass guy.

things could get ugly.

whose beer am i drinking?

i prefer men who are funny, not "funny."

i'm the guy to save you from all this awesomeness.

it's hard to believe you. i think it's your chin.

you are way too into that cat.

tell me how it ends.

i'm not someone who hits the panic button, but... it's weird, right?

you mind if we look around?

so what do you do now? for work.

perfect, time for a quick tour of my failings.

i love your parents, but they can be assholes.

people want to hear from you.

i thought that'd be embarrassing.

i am here on a strictly journalistic capacity.

[name], you are beyond amazing. you are incredibly smart but entirely unsnobby. you are kind, but never a martyr.

you surprise me. you challenge me.

isn't it time we fixed that?

we're going to take this very, very seriously.

i go there for the quiet.

we're still not sure what we're dealing with.

please don't take that tone with me.

everyone told us... and told us and told us... marriage is hard work.

technically we're supposed to fuck at the next stop.

books, sex, bourbon... life is good.

i knew you shouldn't have moved back here.

maybe i'll teach you a thing or two.

i'm a little drunk.

let's swear we will never be like them.

everything else is background noise.

why are you throwing that in my face again?

it's like you're daring me to be someone i don't want to be.

i'm not that person. i'm your wife.

suddenly i knew everything was about to get worse.

i'm asking you nicely.

everyone is projecting their shit onto me.

i feel like i could disappear.

i've been so worried about you.

i don't want to fight. i just want to be with you. that's all i want.

you fucking lied to my fucking face.

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

you have to fucking talk to me!

i'm not going to be scared anymore.

this man of mine may kill me.

men always use that as the defining compliment, don't they? she's a cool girl.

i will admit. for someone who likes to win, it's tempting to be the girl every guy wants.

we were happy pretending to be other people.

i need to show you something.

see we have the same taste in men.

you're reading it again? you know how it ends.

whatever the hell they found, we have to assume it's very bad.

everyone would hate me.

why are you so good to me?

my defense is the truth.

i've never seen it in my life.

i feel myself fading.

i just said what you wanted to hear.

take off your clothes.

i'm a fighter. i fought my way back to you.

kiss my cheek.

you're not at risk anymore.

you know you can sleep with me, right?

we should hold hands.

you called me a murderer.

i haven't touched you.

i've killed for you.

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 12 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica enjoys showing off her closet almost as much as Jake enjoys unwrapping his gift. When the two of them head to the fundraiser she's spent weeks planning, Jake recognizes the strong feelings he has for her. And there's no way he'd let anyone take this night away from her.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral f receiving, angst, swearing, frat boys, 18+

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake was trying to play it cool on Friday night as he knocked on Jessica's door. "I'm coming!" she called from inside as he shifted the baking dish around in his hand along with his garment bag. He had everything he would need for the weekend, including his suit for her fundraiser. 

When she opened the door for him, she looked breathless and flushed. "Hi," she whispered, and then Jake had her in his arms, too. 

"I missed you," he replied. "But I need you to take this lasagna before I drop it."

"Oh! You brought dinner?" she asked, looking astonished as she took the foil covered dish from his arms. "You didn't have to do that."

"I like feeding you," he told her with a wink as he walked inside and closed her apartment door behind him. And then he really took a look at her. She was wearing a deep purple jewel toned robe and seemingly nothing else. It was short and silky and barely covered her backside as she ran into her tiny, mostly unused kitchen and peeked inside the foil. 

"It looks so good," she moaned. 

Jake draped his garment jacket over the back of the couch and tossed his overnight bag with it as he headed for the kitchen as well. "Preheat the oven and we can eat it in about an hour."

She did, and then she spun to face him as she adjusted her glasses. Her nipples were peaks against the silk fabric, and Jake desperately wanted to untie it and see if she was wearing panties. Jessica was his girlfriend, and technically she had invited him over to look at and enjoy her lingerie collection with him, but he didn't want to make it seem like that was the only reason he was here. Because it wasn't. 

He leaned in and kissed her. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow night."

"Me too," she replied, leaning away from him a bit as she reached for the sash holding her robe closed. "But I'm looking forward to tonight just as much. And I have a great idea of how we can entertain ourselves while dinner cooks."

Jake watched her fingers work the knot until the fabric drifted open to reveal her delicate skin from the valley between her breasts all the way down to her pussy. "I love the way you think," he murmured, running his knuckles along her belly button. "You're so damn smart, Baby." He trailed his hand slowly up her body until he was cupping her chin while she shivered. 

"You stay here while I go change?" Her eyes were wide and focused on his as  he stroked her neck.

"Mmhmm. I'll put the food in the oven and set the timer. Be there in a minute."

Jessica bounced off toward her bedroom with her robe flying behind her while Jake had to unzip his jeans for a little relief. He had to fight the urge to touch himself as he waited for the oven to preheat. How the hell was this happening to him? He counted his blessings as he put the lasagna in to cook and followed Jessica at a slower pace. Her bedroom was softly lit and smelled as sweet as she always did. When he found her, she was standing in her small walk-in closet with her back to him.

"Reedy," he crooned. She was wearing more of those black stockings he liked so much. The tops of them just barely dug into her soft thighs, and she had on her black high heels. This time she paired them with a black garter belt and thong, and when she tossed her hair across her upper back, he saw her black bra straps, too. 

She peeked at him over her shoulder and whispered, "Wanna unwrap your present?"

He was already sweating. Jake tugged his own tee shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor as he stepped up right behind her. "I think I'd like to enjoy the way it looks first."

Soft laughter filled the small space as Jake's hands found her shoulders and then trailed them down her arms. She shivered when he pressed the front of his jeans to her ass, letting her feel the rough fabric on her perfect skin. "Jake," she whispered, rubbing back against him as he brought his hands around to the front of her waist to her soft belly. 

When he kissed the side of her neck, she arched her back, and those pretty breasts were jutting out covered in black lace. "I like this look on you," he whispered, bringing his left hand up to squeeze her tits. "It's a little filthy. Where's my sweet Jessica?" 

She whined as his right hand dipped into the front of her thong and went right for her clit. "I'm still sweet," she mumbled, already sounding out of breath as he sucked on the side of her neck. 

"You sure are," he mused, pushing two fingers through her folds and inside her as she bucked. He licked her neck and whispered, "Let me taste your pussy?"

Jake was rock hard in his jeans as she rubbed on him and moaned, "Anything you want."

He smirked and sucked on her neck hard enough to leave a mark. Then he withdrew his fingers and pulled his hand free from the black lace. He spun her around to watch him lick his fingers clean of her slick, and she already looked a little dazed. "If you offer up everything, I can't promise I won't take it."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and chased his lips, and Jake let her taste herself there. He palmed her ass and scooped her up, and she gasped and giggled when he dropped her onto her back on the bed. "What are you gonna do?" she asked, adjusting her glasses with a little grin as she looked up at him. 

"Well first of all, I'm gonna take that little grin off your face," he whispered, reaching for her ankles and pulling her to the edge of the bed as she squealed. "Then I'm gonna make you come." He kissed the inside of her left calf before gently guiding both legs over his shoulders. The silky stockings felt nice on his bare skin as he bent and kissed along her belly. Her fingers were in his hair as he reached beneath her and unclasped her bra. She helped him toss it away as he licked and nuzzled the undersides of her breasts. "Jesus," he moaned, pushing her thighs back with his shoulders to get better access to her tits. 

Jessica whimpered as he rubbed at her wet pussy through the thong while he sucked on her nipples. She was lying here, prepared to let him do what he wanted, but the only thing he needed was to prove he was good enough for her. Jake took his time, licking and sucking and worshipping her breasts until she was begging him for more. He took her hands in his and guided them from his hair and wrapped them around the backs of her own thighs. 

"You keep yourself open nice and wide for me," he grunted, kneeling on the floor and kissing her inner thigh. She smelled sweet and ready for him; she'd already soaked through her lingerie. 

"Okay," she whispered, watching him with parted lips as he tugged her thong to one side and buried his nose in her pussy. He kissed her opening as her high heels dug into his back a little bit, and she bucked up toward his face. 

"Shh," he coaxed, holding her hips still as she whined his name. "I'm right here." That just seemed to make her go crazier, because he had to pin her down to the bed to enjoy her the way he wanted to: leisurely and thoroughly. 

"Fuck," she gasped, spreading her own legs wider as Jake wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked softly at first and then harder. The little bud was as smooth as a pearl against his tongue and oh so sensitive. "Jake," she whispered as he lapped her up before kissing the little patch of her trimmed hair. 

"You want me to stop?" he teased, and she tried to buck up for more.

"No!" she whined.

He kissed her clit. "Then spread 'em wider for me, Baby," he crooned, licking her up and down when she obeyed him. He ate her out like she deserved, coating his chin and lips with her slick and his saliva, licking and sucking until she was shaking. Then he just sucked a steady rhythm on her clit until her gasps and cries grew louder and louder. The gentle roll of her hips fighting him for more pressure let him know she was close. 

Then he felt and tasted the little gush against his tongue as she dripped down his chin. Her legs fell limp as he looked up at her perfect body where her breasts shook alluringly with each little aftershock while she chewed on her fingers. 

"Damn," he grunted, easing her legs down gently. He could hear the kitchen timer going off as she looked up at him. When he eased his body down on top of hers, he cock twitched, but he convinced himself he could wait to get himself wet. "You're gorgeous," he whispered, and she brought her fingers back to his hair as he kissed her cheeks and then her parted lips. "Let me get your robe, and you just take your time coming to the kitchen for dinner."

"You don't need to fuck me?" she asked softly. 

Jake chuckled. "Not as badly as I need to feed you dinner so you have energy for later."

-------------------------------

Jessica was sitting at her table in her lingerie with her robe wrapped around her, a clip holding her messy hair on top of her head. Jake was bustling around the kitchen in just his unzipped jeans wearing her oven mitts and humming along to a song that must have been stuck in his head. She groaned and cradled her face in her hands. He was so sexy and so damn sweet. How was she supposed to have stopped herself from falling for him?

"Baby, you want me to open this bottle of wine?" he asked, holding up the merlot that was on the counter. 

"Sure," she replied, watching his biceps work the wine opener. Then he brought her a plate of piping hot, homemade lasagna and a glass of her favorite wine. Before he could turn back to the kitchen to grab the rest, she reached for his hand. "Thank you."

Jake chuckled. "I should be thanking you," he muttered, kissing her forehead before he went to get his own food. 

She didn't realize how hungry she was until she took a bite. "It's so good," she whispered before she worked on cleaning her plate. Jessica mostly subsisted off of cereal, sandwiches, and lean cuisines unless he cooked something for her, and this was so delicious, she could have cried. She ate a second serving with no remorse. 

"I was going to change into something else," she whispered as she finished her glass of wine. "I'll let you choose something this time. But it's your fault and your lasagna's fault if I look bloated now."

Jake pushed his chair back, sitting there looking like a model from Men's Health magazine. When he patted his thigh, she straddled his lap and took a seat. Once again he untied the sash of her robe and stroked her from the top of her chest, down between her bare breasts, to the top of her garter belt. "Still looks perfect to me," he mumbled, pushing her robe open further and playing with her nipple. "You said I get to choose this time?" he asked, smirking up at her as he cupped her breast and leaned in to kiss the bruised spot on her neck. 

"Mmhmm," she hummed, leaning into his touch. "Pick a color and I'll get changed so you can fuck me."

Jake grunted. "Navy blue."

She smiled and kissed him before heading back to her closet with just the perfect thing in mind. As she slipped into a lacy, crotchless teddy in a rich, dark blue, she could hear Jake cleaning up in the kitchen. She selected a pair of red heels and let her hair out of the clip. She felt really sexy in this one, and when Jake walked into the bedroom, she was already bent over the bed, resting on her elbows, on display for him. 

"That's a beautiful sight," he murmured, his voice deep with need. Jessica could feel her nipples furl at his words alone. "Is this for me?" he asked, patting her bare pussy from behind. 

"Yes," she moaned as he slid his hand up to her butt. 

"How about this?"

"Yes," she repeated, feeling like she must be wet enough to drip on the floor. 

Without another word, she felt his knee wedge between her thighs, and he knocked her feet further apart with his own. "Jake," she whispered, legs spread wide as he squeezed her thighs, and then she felt his mouth on her again. "Oh."

He licked her pussy until she was practically seeing stars. When her legs shook, Jake helped her kneel on the edge of the bed, and then he ate her some more. His hands were a little rougher this time on her thighs, but it felt so good. And he was a quick study, because he had her coming again on his tongue.

She braced her hands on her light blue bedding, ready for him to start thrusting; he had more than earned it. But instead, Jake helped her roll over onto her back as she caught her breath, and then he plopped down next to her and took her hand. 

"You wanna change one more time?" he asked, stroking his fingers through her messy hair. "This time I'll unwrap my present before having my way with it."

She closed her eyes and basked in his words before she started to stand. "I have just the thing."

------------------------

Jake eased his jeans down his legs, his lips still wet with Jessica. He'd be lying right now if he said he didn't desperately need to cum. He stroked himself slowly as she opened and closed some drawers in her closet, and his hand was still wrapped around his cock when she returned. 

Somehow she'd gone from the naughty, strappy lingerie to this cream colored set, but he was just as turned on for this more innocent look. A cupless bra that tied into a soft, satin bow over her breasts and some high waisted underwear. "Come here, Smart Girl," he growled, and she seemed to know just what he wanted as she crawled on top of him. "I like this." 

He adjusted her glasses and kissed her lips as he ran his big hand along her panties. Everything was so soft. Like he'd never had before. Even her voice as she whispered, "Go ahead and unwrap me," sounded sweet to his ears. So he slid her underwear down to her bare feet, and she kicked them aside. Then without warning, she wrapped her hand around his cock and sank down on him. She swirled her hips slowly as he untied the satin bow slowly until her tits popped free. 

Jake brought his lips up to her chest as she braced her hands on his shoulders. She made soft, needy little noises as she bumped along with her tits in his face. "You're the perfect present," he whispered. "Can't get enough." 

When he rolled her onto her back and thrust into her until he came, he kissed her flushed cheeks and her lips as she moaned. Then he got to enjoy the sight of his cum leaking out of her hole and down her ass before he accompanied her to the shower. 

She was soft and drowsy in his arms, resting her cheek against his chest as he told her how she was always so sweet for him. How she was everything he wanted. He knew he was falling in love with his Smart Girl who kept him on his toes.

--------------------------

Jessica slept so well snuggled up tight with Jake, her fingers in his chest hair. Apparently she was more worn out than she thought, because it was after ten on Saturday morning when she opened her eyes. And as soon as she did, he wrapped his arms around her tighter. "Morning," he whispered. "You ready for your fancy fundraiser?"

She groaned. On paper, yes, she was ready. Mentally? Hardly. "Can we just stay in bed all day instead?" she asked softly as Jake kissed her shoulder.  

"No," he replied. "I want to see you in action. Work up an appetite for tonight."

She chuckled. "Well I'm putting you, Bradley and Dev to work all evening."

"Dev is coming?" Jake asked abruptly, his hand pausing on her body.

"Yeah. I invited him when he donated the beer. I've been emailing him to coordinate since he sent me things for the silent auction."

"He has a thing for you," Jake said bluntly. Jessica shimmied around until she was facing him. "Bradshaw told me like a hundred times with a smug look on his face."

She felt her cheeks grow warm. "But I have a thing for you. You're my boyfriend."

Jake kissed her softly and asked, "Did you give him your phone number inside one of the journals from your personal collection?"

"No!" she replied, scandalized. "You're the only one I could ever want to tease like that. Although I was honestly a little afraid I took it too far and you had given up on me." She buried her face against his neck since she didn't have her glasses on.

"Baby, I was so hooked after the first night at Chippy's, I'd still be begging you for your number now. I mean, Jessica... I bought a new truck for you."

"Oh my god," she moaned, certain her face was bright red. Butterflies erupted in her tummy as she thought about it. "Jake. Stop."

"I don't want to."

The morning gave way to lunchtime as they made love. She knew it would take her a while to get ready for the event, but she just couldn't rush something that felt so good. "I love this," Jake whispered against her ear while he had her hands pinned on the pillow above her head. Goosebumps covered her arms and legs. All the fine hairs on her body were tingling at the sensation of him rocking into her while he whispered, "Love it."

Then he made her brunch while she took a quick shower and cleaned up the mess he made with his cum. She ate eggs and toast with a huge mug of coffee while he headed off to shower, leaving her with the words, "I could get used to Saturdays like this."

She could, too. Jake was the best combination of everything. Sure, he could cook and he was hot and good in bed, but she liked having him around. She thought about him all day when she was at work. And he seemed to know how often she needed to have her own space. He bought a truck to make sure he wasn't late meeting her again. She groaned softly, already feeling needy for him again. How the hell was that possible? She was actually quite sore at the moment. 

With a soft smile, she put her plate in the dishwasher and headed to her closet. She was pulling on the tiny emerald green underwear when Jake strolled in completely naked. "Hey," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She melted against him, his skin still warm and damp from the shower. "What color are you wearing so I know which tie to put on?"

She pointed to the long, green dress hanging up. "This one."

"Pretty," he mumbled against her temple. "Then I'll wear my black tie instead of red or gold."

Once he was gone again, she shivered as she fixed her hair and makeup in her underwear. Jake was completely dressed and shaved with his hair styled by the time she was ready. He helped her into her dress and zipped up the back. It was tasteful with a flowing skirt, but there was a long slit going up her left leg. The top fit snugly over her breasts, and the thin straps accentuated her collarbones and shoulders. 

When she put her glasses back on, Jake said, "You're a knockout, Reedy. You ready to go to this thing?"

She slipped her heels on, gathered up her bag filled with notebooks and folders and then laced her fingers with his. "Let's go."

---------------------------

Jake could tell she was nervous. His main goal for the evening was to help make everything as easy as possible for her, but she was quiet in his truck on the drive over. He wasn't sure what he could do for her right now. When she reached for his hand, she held onto him while she anxiously checked her phone. Jake was pretty sure they had plenty of time to get everything done, and he would take care of whatever she needed.

"Okay, so Bradley is loading the chilled kegs into his Bronco right now according to his wife, and then they are heading over to campus. The ice buckets should be ready. The frat boys reassured me they did everything on the checklist, including moving the furniture outside. The string quartet should arrive at 5:30. Dev should arrive around then, too. You and Bradley can set up the tables for beer pong. The culinary students should be in the kitchen within the next hour. Oh my god, did I miss anything?"

"Baby, I think you have it all under control," Jake said in as calming a voice as he could manage. 

But she went silent and stared out the window. Several minutes passed before she quietly said, "I need this to be perfect if I ever stand a chance at tenure under Brian."

Jake let his fingers tighten around her small hand. He didn't even like hearing her say his name. "Will he be there?" Jake asked, his voice sounding a little rough. 

She kind of shrugged as he turned down the block near the frat houses. "I wouldn't be surprised if he stops by. But I sold so many tickets, I don't see what he could complain about," she replied, her voice sounding a little more confident. 

"Right," Jake said, parking behind the Bronco where Bradshaw and his wife were making out on the sidewalk. "Just stay with me, okay? And if you need anything, I'll help you take care of it."

"Okay," she whispered with a smile. And Jake knew he'd punch Brian Conley directly in his face before he let him upset his girlfriend tonight. 

Bradshaw and his wife managed to separate long enough for Bradley to help Jessica down from the truck. Jake just shook his head at the other man sporting a black suit without a tie paired with a University of Chicago cap perched backwards on his head. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone.

"You have a little something right there," Jessica told him, pointing to his lips and cheek where his wife's red lipstick was smudged. 

"Yeah," he replied with a nod and a smirk and then did absolutely nothing to clean himself up. 

His wife was wearing a form fitting black dress reminiscent of the one she wore on New Year's Eve when Jake got severely drunk and called her Dr. Tits. But this dress wasn't low cut, and it had a pretty sheer fabric covering her up to her neck and down her arms to her wrists. 

"Hi, Jake," she said, almost like she knew what he was thinking about. "Are you going to behave tonight?"

He nodded at Jessica and said, "I've turned over a new leaf." That made the other woman smile. 

"Listen," Bradley said, adjusting his cap before he wrapped his arm around his wife. "I helped the guys put the kegs in the tubs of ice. But I gotta ask, is this like some sort of nerd frat or something?" he asked Jessica, jerking his thumb at the Kappa Pi house behind him. "They called me sir, and there are absolutely no half naked girls hanging out inside."

Both women laughed at the look of concern on his face. "I told them no personal guests. Only those with purchased tickets will be admitted. In fact, I'm going to have one of them stationed at the door scanning the tickets on everyone's phones."

"I still think it's a nerd frat," he muttered as Jessica took Jake by the hand and led him up to the front door with the other two in tow. "And I don't know how I feel about that."

Once they were inside, Jake looked around the entryway with appreciation. Victorian style wallpaper, crown molding and glossy hardwood floors. The wide stairs had a carpet runner, and it actually smelled nice. "Is this what your fraternity house was like, Bradshaw?"

"No." The other man nearly doubled over in laughter as he shook his head. "Not even close, Hangman. We would have destroyed all this shit within a week."

"I can vouch for that," his wife added as she patted him on the back.

Jessica turned and looked at him. "Were you in a fraternity, Jake?"

"No," he replied. "But I'm pleasantly surprised by this house. Might have pledged if something like this existed on my campus."

And then suddenly the four of them were no longer alone. A dozen or so guys in tuxedos made their way into the room at the same time the string quartet entered the house. People with chafing dishes came parading through, and Jessica pointed Jake toward five ping pong tables folded up against the wall. 

"Don't worry," Bradley said with a knowing smile. "We'll show you how it's done. It'll be just like New Year's Eve."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Jake replied as Jessica blew him a kiss before she got pulled into the kitchen. "Let the fundraiser commence," he mumbled.

"No," Bradley replied, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. "Let the fratraiser commence."

--------------------------

Welcome to the fratraiser. What could go wrong? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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[daytaker]

The Demon Brothers React to Watching a Horror Movie with You

CW: discussion of gore (Satan)

I didn’t include the dateables in this one but if people want that, y’know…let me know.

Lucifer

"You frighten yourself... intentionally? Interesting."

He fails to see the appeal, quite frankly.

Not only does he not find them scary, he doesn't understand why you watch them if you do.

He's too used to playing the babysitter to take you grabbing his hand as an excuse for physical contact. He interprets it as you tapping out, so he'll pause the movie and give you an out.

Of course, if you insist on finishing the movie regardless, that's an interesting choice in and of itself.

What an opportunity to observe a tortured human psyche at work.

If you insist on holding hands at this point, he won't fight it. He is a bit more dubious than before, though. Are you really doing this because you're scared? You wouldn't happen to have any ulterior motives, would you?

He will gladly reassure you after the movie is over that you are always welcome to come to him for comfort if you're afraid in the middle of the night. You know where his room is.

Mammon

"Just so we’re clear, I ain’t afraid of no horror movies. Not even a little! Not even a teensy-tiny bit, all right? Like, seriously."

He's lying.

This isn't even headcanon stuff, this is just common knowledge.

Also common knowledge: he will insist on proving how cool and brave he is by watching a horror movie with you and protecting you from the monsters and gore onscrEEAAAUUUUGH???!!!

He wasn't scared, he was just startled.

And he's only up here on the lights fixture because he remembered one bulb was flickering earlier. There. He fixed it. He's just being responsible.

Anyway, if you're nervous and want to hold his hand, he understands. Humans are fragile as hell.

In fact, you don't need to stop at hand-holding. You can just hug hiMYEEAAGH!!!!

He's hugging you instead. He's being a good demon and taking care of his human.

Yes, he's in your lap. He thought you'd feel more secure that way.

Stop laughing!

Leviathan

"So I read that the film set for this movie was cursed by a mangaka who never got credit as an influence for the story..."

Time for some J-horror, obviously.

He read up extensively on the production before asking you to watch it with him. He figures he'll be less terrified if he has plenty of background knowledge about the film as an artistic piece to remind him that the happenings onscreen aren't real.

Instead he found a bunch of rumors about how the movie was cursed. But he'd already poured so much of his valuable time into researching it. Sunk cost fallacy: activated! You're watching this damn movie.

He's scared. He's so embarrassed to be this scared but he's scared.

When he's by himself, he doesn't mind that he spooks easily. He likes it. That's the fun of horror games and movies.

But with you here, he feels the pressure to be your emotional rock during the harrowing film-viewing process.

You can hold his hand. You know, if you want to. He gets it if that idea grosses you out, but he did wash his hands right before you got here, so...

If he gets too scared, the demon form comes out, and suddenly you have a scaly tail wrapped around your waist and webbed fingers clutching you.

He's sorry, it's just... It just happens sometimes, okay? Laugh it up, normie!

Actually, it feels kind of nice when you stroke his scales like that. If you really want to, you don't have to stop.

He is no longer watching the movie.

Satan

"This is an extremely unrealistic depiction of decapitation with a hacksaw."

There is nothing less scary than watching a horror movie with Satan, because his smart ass can't stop telling you about everything wrong with it.

The movie is starting. Are you nervous? He'll hold your hand. He has enough basic sense to at least get that part of the process right.

...That's not even close to how it looks when you disembowel a deer.

There's a lot more blood spatter than you'd expect when head wounds are involved. Apparently the special effects crew on this movie didn't do their due diligence.

Hmm, that's actually a pretty convincing amputation scene. Credit where credit is due.

Sorry, but he thinks that calling this one a "psychological thriller" is giving it a little too much credit.

Asmodeus

"Nooo! Ahhh, I can't take it, it's so scaryyy!"

He's not scared. Not even a little.

He's not even grossed out.

But he thinks that seeming terrified is cuter than seeming mildly amused and a little bored.

So before you start watching, he makes sure to lay down some ground rules.

If he's scared, he gets to hold your hand. If you're scared, you get to hold his hand.

If he's scared, he gets to hug you. If you're scared, you get to hug him.

If nothing scary is happening for more than five minutes, he's allowed to request a kiss. Just to keep you both from getting bored.

Why are sex scenes in slashers so awful? Even before the stabbing starts. They're just so... blah. It's disappointing every time.

Ahhh! There's the killer! He's so scared! He's going to hide his face in your neck and cling to you for dear life!

Beelzebub

"What's wrong? Why do you look so sick?"

Bro will eat nonchalantly through the most brutal and gut-wrenching scenes of gore, entirely unaffected.

And he will.

He will do that, right in front of you, and not even have the decency to understand why you have to go vomit.

He doesn't really get most horror films. But occasionally something will resonate strongly with him and he will become very quiet and potentially fairly upset for awhile.

If something reminds him too much of Lilith or her death, for example.

But even if that happens, he won't stop eating.

Belphegor

"Wake me up if something interesting starts happening."

Another one who is entirely unaffected by horror.

Nothing is more horrifying than living as himself in this fucked up world.

He's very annoyed whenever Mammon or Levi watches anything horror-related because their screaming makes it hard to sleep.

He doesn't mind if you scream though.

He can fall asleep to the sound of you screaming.

Take that however you wish.