#YOUR WERE ON SCREEN FOR FIVE SECONDS AND THEY WERE ICONIC

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

Tim: So you hear them too?

Kon: Huh?

Tim: The voices?

Kon: HUH???

[brunchable]

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? If you're not up for a few second-hand embarrassment sit this one out lol. Summary: Your coworker peer pressured you to look up SergeantBarnes in Pornhub, reason? Because apparently you're missing out. A/N: This would make a good mini series. . .but we'll see. I had a dream. . .that he was a guy next door, just wanted to-of course-add a twist to it asdfghjkl.

It was all Amy’s fault. And Trish’s. And okay, maybe you shared a little bit of the blame for caving to the intense peer pressure at work. But still.

You’d been minding your own business in the break room, scrolling through lunch menus, when Amy had sidled up, leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, and whispered, “Have you seen him yet?”

“Seen who?” your eyebrows creased as you asked, confused.

Trish popped up out of nowhere, clutching her latte in her hand. “Girl, SeargentBarnes. The guy is legendary—I mean, a literal internet icon.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference while they exchanged a look that practically screamed, amateur. They started talking all at once, dropping cryptic phrases like “too hot to handle,” “you’re gonna die,” and, “you’ll never look at men the same way again.”

So there you were that night, alone with your laptop, curled up in bed and biting your lip as you debated whether to type it in. It’s just curiosity, you reasoned. Research purposes.

Your eyes widened as the screen filled with… well, humanity, in all its naked, unfiltered glory. Your face heated up so fast you could’ve sworn it was the same shade as your throw pillow. Videos lined up like some weird buffet, titles more scandalous than anything you’d ever whispered in confession, and… was that a whole category devoted to delivery men? You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from yelping, mortified at the intensity of it all. 

“I need to go to church after this,” you muttered, squinting like that would somehow censor the thorough dedication people were showing in their, uh, procreation endeavors.

“SergeantBarnes,” you muttered to yourself as you typed, fingers hovering uncertainly over the Enter key. Then, with a sigh, you hit search, and… oh.

You nearly choked on oxygen. Because there he was, in HD glory, right on Pornhub, with that cocky grin and those blue eyes that looked like they’d been crafted in a lab. And he wasn’t just standing there looking smug—oh, no, he was on a mission, shirtless, flexing, and smirking at the camera like he was the world’s best-kept secret. The scene panned to him sitting on the edge of a bed, peeling off his belt with one hand, a glint in his eyes that seemed to say, this is what you came for.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated, as he proceeded to… well, get very familiar with his costar. SergeantBarnes was apparently an expert at multitasking, using every muscle, every inch of his well-equipped arsenal. And the way he was delivering lines? He was clearly treating the camera like it was his soulmate.

By minute two, your jaw had dropped. By minute five, you’d set the laptop on your nightstand to “watch responsibly.” By minute ten, you were convinced Amy and Trish had permanently ruined your life.

And the costar—she was practically putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, her reactions so intense you half expected her to start speaking in tongues. Every time SergeantBarnes’s… rod of justice plunges deep inside, she gasps like she was witnessing a miracle. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Come on, is that really necessary?

As you watched, he gave a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half sigh—that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. His gaze burned through the screen with a confidence that was practically magnetic, and suddenly, you understood exactly why the costar was gasping. A new, unbidden heat pooled between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably, instinctively pressing your thighs together as if that could somehow stop the flush creeping up your face. Oh no, now I wish I were her, you thought, immediately cringing at yourself.

With a mix of half-laughter and half-horror, you reached over and slammed the laptop shut so fast it was like you were trying to save yourself from spontaneous combustion. 

“Holy—oh, wow,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your face. “Okay. That was a one-time thing.”

Or so you thought.

Except now, every time you even glanced at your laptop, SergeantBarnes was right there in your mind, reminding you exactly why he was internet-famous. It was becoming a bit of a problem.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stumbled out of your apartment, looking like something that had been left out in the rain and dragged through a blender, mentally cursing last night’s “research” session. The world had no right to be this bright, and your regret levels were at an all-time high as you lugged the world’s heaviest box down the hallway.

You were so absorbed in avoiding a complete breakdown that you barely registered the deep, too-familiar voice beside you.

“Need help with that?”

“Thanks, but I got it,” you muttered automatically, barely sparing him a glance.

Except...then you did.

You looked up, squinting in confusion. Because, standing in front of you, in the perfectly mundane hallway of your perfectly mundane building, was him.

You froze, your brain spinning like a buffering screen. Okay, this guy’s insanely handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled jaw, eyes so blue they should have a health warning on them. You stared, mentally cataloging each feature, when—wait a minute... WAIT. A. MINUTE.

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling as your brain finally fired up. Is that…? No, it can’t be.

But it was. Oh, it absolutely was. 

SergeantBarnes, the very star of last night’s “educational” viewing, right here in the flesh. And suddenly, like a tractor beam had locked onto you, your gaze dropped right to his crotch, where you’d witnessed things you could never un-see.

This, of course, did not go unnoticed. His brows shot up as he followed your very obvious, very treacherous line of sight, glancing down at his jeans before looking back up at you with an infuriatingly smug grin.

“Uh… nice shoes?” you blurted out, your face feeling like it was on fire. You vaguely gestured to his boots, wishing you could vanish right into the walls.

“Thanks,” he replied smoothly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They’re pretty sturdy. But, you know…” He paused, his voice dropping just a hair. “I don’t think they’re what you were looking at.”

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to look up, his amused blue eyes practically laughing at you. Abort. Abort mission. Oh God, we are way past mission failure.

“Uh—no, I just… um…” You floundered, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that might save you from the hole you’d dug. But no words came. Not even the faintest semblance of a coherent thought. Just one long, silent scream echoing in your brain.

“Bucky,” he offered helpfully, sticking out his hand like he wasn’t SergeantBarnes from Pornhub, but just some guy offering to help with a box. “New neighbor, by the way.”

You stared at his hand like it was a booby trap, your brain short-circuiting as it reminded you exactly where those fingers had been. That hand had gripped… things. It had been places you’d only dreamed of, doing things you’d probably need a core workout just to survive. You could practically see the “viewer discretion advised” warning flashing in your head as you hesitated, still staring at his hand as if it might explode.

But, against your better judgment—and every shred of dignity—you slowly reached out and shook it, feeling your own fingers betray you by sweating as they made contact with his very… experienced ones.

“Uh… hi… I’m… yep.” you blurted, mentally cringing.

“‘Yep’? That’s a good name,” he said, smirking as he let go. “You sure you don’t need help? You seem… a little flustered.”

Flustered? Understatement of the century. If your dignity had been a cup, it was empty, bone-dry, and cracked. You forced yourself to focus, eyes straight forward, pointedly ignoring the very tempting crotch-level view. 

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” you squeaked, cringing at your own voice. Oh God, calm down!

But he just chuckled, that same dangerously cocky smile from last night plastered all over his face. “Alright, Yep. Guess I’ll see you around.”

As he turned to leave, you stood there in the hallway, clutching the box like it was a life raft, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d just had a very public staring incident with SergeantBarnes, your new neighbor, and all you’d managed to say was nice shoes.

I’m gonna need new coworkers, you thought, practically burying your face in the box as you scurried to your apartment.

The door slammed shut with a bang that could probably be heard across state lines. You dropped the box unceremoniously, ignoring the loud thunk as it hit the floor, and whipped your phone out, fingers flying across the screen like you were composing a manifesto.

Guys, you’re NEVER gonna guess who my neighbor is—

You paused, staring at the screen as the rest of the text formed in your mind: THE SergeantBarnes. LIVE. IN. THE. FLESH.

But then another thought stopped you dead in your tracks. Oh no.

You could already picture it: Amy and Trish showing up like rabid fangirls in their “I Heart SergeantBarnes” merch, carrying suspiciously flimsy plates of brownies. Trish would have binoculars. Amy would be taking notes, probably trying to “accidentally” leave her phone number under his door. You shuddered, imagining them cornering him by the mailboxes, all of them acting like they were definitely not the type of women who had his entire catalog bookmarked on their phones.

A horrible realization hit you. If I tell them, this man’s gonna be living a nightmare right next door to me. Not just a nightmare, a Trish-and-Amy-sponsored fan club nightmare, where they might even break into song—probably chanting, “SergeantBarnes! SergeantBarnes!” while he tries to get his groceries.

You looked back at your unsent message and deleted it in one go, feeling weirdly proud of yourself. Yeah, no. I’m not letting them anywhere near him.

Totally altruistic, of course. It had nothing to do with keeping the eye candy to yourself.

You took a deep breath, looking around your empty apartment like you were expecting the FBI to burst through the door at any second. Sure, you’d just been in the hallway with the actual SergeantBarnes, but maybe… maybe you were imagining things. It had been a long day. Moving was stressful. Stranger things had happened, right?

With a surge of resolve (and denial), you dashed to your bedroom, practically sliding across the floor as you went. Your laptop was waiting innocently on the nightstand, and with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure you were still alone, you opened it up, clicked incognito mode like you were hiding state secrets, and went straight to the website you’d sworn off only hours ago.

“Alright… just to confirm,” you muttered to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn as you typed SergeantBarnes into the search bar, mentally bracing yourself for the flood of results.

And there he was. The whole page filled with him, in various… positions. You swallowed, scrolling until one video caught your eye: “Sergeant Disciplines the Bratty Recruit.”

You snorted, almost slamming the laptop shut. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”

But curiosity was a dangerous beast, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger had already clicked play.

The video started, with SergeantBarnes in all his glory, wearing what looked like the world’s tightest military uniform. His face was as smug as ever, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he muttered something absurd like, “Think you can handle me, recruit?”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, cringing as you half-covered your eyes but peeked through your fingers anyway.

But there was no denying it—the face, the voice, the ridiculous, smoldering look into the camera. There was no escaping it now. It was 100% him. The same guy who was now living approximately ten feet away from your own front door.

As the video continued, your disbelief only grew. This man… this man is next door, could eating cereal right now, you thought, torn between horrified fascination and the urge to laugh. Because there he was, in full “disciplinary action” mode, doing things you could barely process, and here you were, watching it again, just to make sure it was really him.

“Oh, I’m doomed,” you muttered, slapping the laptop shut. You weren’t even sure if you were embarrassed, impressed, or maybe just a little terrified of your own neighbor.

× × × ×

Over the next few days, it was like living in a twisted sitcom. Everywhere you went, he was there, lurking like some kind of sexy, mildly inconvenient specter. It was uncanny. You’d turn a corner, and bam—there he’d be, giving you that polite nod and a smirk that clearly said, I know exactly what you’ve seen.

It started small. You’d step into the elevator, praying for a peaceful ride, and ding! in he’d stroll, flashing that devastating grin. Instantly, you’d stiffen, gluing yourself to the opposite wall, practically trying to meld with the buttons, heart pounding like you were about to pass out. You couldn’t even look him in the eye without flashes of his, uh, “filmography” playing in your mind. Every single time, without fail, you found yourself studying the very clean floor of the elevator as he leaned casually against the wall, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” he’d ask, all smooth, innocent charm. Meanwhile, you were there like, Oh, totally, perfect day to run into my favorite Pornhub star.

You were in the laundry room, blissfully alone, humming to yourself as you separated your clothes like a responsible adult. Whites here, colors there, delicates—well, you were kind of just tossing them wherever at this point. Then, suddenly, you felt it: a shift in the air, a presence. You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, a sock suspended mid-toss in your hand. Why do I feel like the music should be getting dramatic right about now?

Slowly, as if sensing his approach, you turned. And there he was—Bucky, striding in with a laundry basket filled with a suspiciously pristine pile of perfectly folded, incredibly manly clothing. It was as if he’d just stepped out of some kind of… laundry commercial. Or worse… one of his own videos.

You blinked, eyes widening as a thousand clichés suddenly flashed through your mind. Oh no, why does this feel like the start of a porn? you thought, biting your lip as you realized the two of you were, in fact, very alone, surrounded by washing machines and suspiciously warm lighting. You mentally kicked yourself. Snap out of it! This is laundry. Regular, boring laundry.

Bucky caught your eye, giving you an amused once-over. “Doing some laundry?” he asked, his voice low and casual, but somehow it felt like the most suggestive question in the world.

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Uh-huh,” you managed, trying to sound like a normal human being. “Just, uh… laundry.”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized half of your load was underwear, strewn everywhere. Panties, bras, socks—they were all there in their mismatched glory, practically screaming, We’re personal items! Pay extra attention! You yanked your gaze away from the pile, mortified, and flung the sock into the washer like you were trying to disarm a bomb.

You slammed the washer lid down, feeling like you’d just revealed way too much. But Bucky only grinned, strolling over with that maddening swagger. He tossed a shirt into the washer beside you, leaning against it with a smirk.

“Nice sorting skills,” he commented, eyes flicking down to the very obvious pile of bras and lace that you’d tried to hide. “Very… thorough.”

“Yep!” you squeaked, feeling like you might explode. You fumbled with the detergent bottle, struggling to open it as your brain went into full-blown panic mode. Why does this feel like one of those videos? Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. Pretend you’re alone. Pretend this is fine.

But of course, he wasn’t making it any easier. He folded his arms, watching you with a raised brow, the picture of calm while you were desperately trying to load underwear without dying of embarrassment. 

“You know,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh, “usually people try to separate colors from whites.”

“Oh, I do! I mean, I… it’s a system,” you stammered, feeling like you were caught in a lie by the laundry police. “Sometimes it’s… it’s an artistic choice.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with that insufferable amusement. “Artistic laundry, huh? Didn’t take you for the experimental type.”

“Yep,” you said, forcing a laugh as you stuffed in the last sock, your hands moving at lightning speed, desperate to finish and escape.

But as you turned to leave, he held up a stray bra that had somehow escaped your grasp, dangling it between two fingers with a raised eyebrow. 

“You forgot this,” he said, voice dripping with that same mischievous humor.

You stared at the bra in horror, feeling your face go molten. 

“Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, practically ripping it out of his hand and stuffing it into the washer, slamming the lid down one last time before you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of there.

Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly, his voice echoing in the hallway. “See you around, neighbor.”

Yep, you thought, already halfway down the hall, never doing laundry again.

By day three, it got ridiculous. You’d ducked into the mailroom, hoping he was out doing normal human things—maybe mowing a lawn or whatever. But no, as soon as you opened your mailbox, there he was, standing by his own, sorting through a stack of letters. You froze, briefly considering whether you could just flee and come back later for your electric bill.

And then… the grocery bag incident.

You were in the hallway, arms overloaded with bags because, naturally, you’d ignored the cart right by the entrance and had instead decided to carry it all in one go. You were so close to your door when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Need help?” he asked, that voice making you nearly fumble every bag in your arms.

You turned, scrambling to say, “No, I’m good,” but of course, in your panic, one of your bags tipped, and a lone, horrifying item fell out and hit the floor. You watched, paralyzed, as the little bottle of lube rolled out with an audible clatter, spinning lazily to a stop right in front of him.

You could practically feel the heat exploding from your cheeks. No. Oh no. Not like this.

You looked up, meeting his amused, slightly raised eyebrows as his lips twitched, clearly fighting a smile. 

“Uh,” you choked out, unable to form a single coherent sentence. Think fast, make it sound normal, you told yourself, even though every possible explanation was racing out of your head.

He bent down, picking up the bottle with a glint of pure mischief in his eyes, inspecting it like he’d just found evidence of some grand crime.

“Hey, everyone’s got needs,” he said, deadpan, but that twinkle in his eye was anything but innocent. “Don’t worry.” He tossed you a wink, handing the bottle back like it was no big deal.

Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as your brain scrambled to form a sentence. Finally, the words tumbled out like a train wreck, your dignity left somewhere back at the grocery store.

“It’s… it’s for my friend,” you squeaked, clutching the lube bottle with both hands like it was a sacred artifact. He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too entertained for your liking. “She’s, uh, she’s constipated.”

A moment of silence.

“She needs it to… you know, help with a suppository.” You forced a grin that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “She, uh… can’t get things moving. Really jammed up in there.”

Bucky’s face twisted in barely suppressed laughter, and his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep a straight face. 

“Right,” he drawled, nodding with an expression that was one part pity and two parts are you for real? “That’s… thoughtful of you.”

You felt like you were overheating, a human furnace on the verge of combustion. 

“She’s desperate!” you blurted, doubling down on your ridiculous story, even though every fiber of your being was screaming to stop talking. “I’m just being a good friend, you know? Supportive. I mean, she’s the one who’s backed up.”

He nodded again, still fighting a smile, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and something else that made your pulse race. 

“Sure,” he said, “nothing like helping a friend in need.” He paused, that wicked smile growing as he added, “In my experience, though, there are plenty of other uses for it.”

Your soul left your body.

He held out his hands in mock innocence, chuckling as your eyes widened to saucers. 

“Just saying,” he winked. “Versatile stuff.” 

And with that, he turned, strolling down the hall with a casual wave, leaving you frozen and mortified, clutching the bottle to your chest like a lifeline.

“Gotta… go,” you managed, voice barely a whisper, stumbling the last few steps to your door as you fumbled with the keys, practically falling inside.

The second the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, staring at the ceiling and whispering, “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”

Just as you were about to bury your face in your hands and live in the sweet, silent embrace of shame, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, still reeling from the lube disaster, and saw a text from your friend, Clara.

Clara: Hey!! Did you get the lube?? Need it ASAP, things are… not moving over here, if you catch my drift.

You groaned, staring at the message, letting it sink in that yes, this entire disaster had been real. 

You: Yes. Got it. Never speaking of this again.

Clara: Bless you, you lifesaver. My digestive system owes you a standing ovation.

You rolled your eyes, still red-faced. Clara had no idea you’d just had to explain the entire situation to your painfully attractive neighbor—who now likely thought you were a walking sitcom.

× × × ×

It started subtly—just a little teasing, or so you thought. But it quickly spiraled into a game you could only describe as Bucky Barnes: Merciless Teasing—Extended Cut. Every time you crossed paths, he managed to twist the knife just a little deeper, making you sweat, stumble, and practically choke on your own words.

The first time it happened, you were hauling a huge box out of your car, trying to look capable and independent, when he strolled up beside you, leaning against the car with a smirk.

“You act like I’m a celebrity,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Every time you see me, you look ready to run.”

You fumbled, nearly dropping the box. 

“Nope! I’m just…uh, busy!” you squeaked, scrambling to walk away at top speed, box clutched to your chest like a shield. But you caught his laugh as you rushed off, making you want to evaporate on the spot.

The next time, you were in the stairwell, headphones in, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward run-ins. Naturally, the moment you looked up, there he was, lounging at the landing like some kind of paid actor in a commercial. You froze mid-step as he raised a brow.

“Look at that,” he said, giving you the once-over, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see me. Is it something I did?”

You stammered, turning pink. 

“No! Just, uh… headphones! Music! Loud music!” you blurted, before speed-walking up the stairs, praying he didn’t hear the Spice Girls song you’d been blasting. Behind you, his chuckle echoed up the stairwell like the final taunt of a villain.

But the absolute worst came at the coffee shop.

You were in line, looking at your phone, hoping you could just breeze in and out. The moment you placed your order and turned to leave, there he was, standing right behind you, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Hey, neighbor,” he drawled, eyeing your coffee cup like it was some incriminating evidence. “Funny running into you here. Or… do you keep running into me?”

Your face flushed, and you tried to think of something clever, but it was like all your brain cells had gone on vacation. 

“Nope! Definitely just getting coffee! I don’t even… live near here!” you babbled, immediately regretting everything.

“Oh, interesting,” he replied, his grin widening. “Because I could swear you live right next door. But hey, if you want to keep pretending you don’t know me, I’ll go along with it.” He handed you your coffee with a wink. “See you around… or not.”

But things took a turn for the mortifying when, one evening, you were pacing the hallway on the phone with Clara, trying to vent without actually collapsing in a pile of awkwardness.

“It’s him, Clara!” you hissed, oblivious to the fact that you were pacing right outside Bucky’s door. “I’m living next door to SergeantBarnes! Can you believe this? I’ve seen everything he has to offer! I’ve practically studied him!”

Clara was howling with laughter, but you were too wrapped up in your frustration to care.

“And he knows, Clara! He keeps showing up everywhere, saying stuff like, ‘You seem nervous’ and ‘You keep looking at me like you know something I don’t.’ I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” You paused, sighing dramatically. “The man is basically torturing me!”

“Yeah?” Clara snorted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing! I’m gonna hide in my apartment forever! I mean, the guy is—” You froze mid-sentence, sensing a presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no.

You slowly turned, and there he was. Bucky. Leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking like he’d just won the freaking lottery.

“Oh… my god…” you whispered, feeling your soul leave your body. He was watching you with an expression of pure, unfiltered amusement, one eyebrow quirked, lips pulled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.

“Well,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “That makes one of us.” His eyes glinted with barely-contained laughter. “And here I thought you were just a fan of my boots.”

You could practically feel your brain cells going up in smoke. 

“I… uh… well… I…” you stammered, cheeks burning. “Boots… are great,” you managed, wanting to sink into the earth.

“Yeah? Because I seem to remember you looking… elsewhere last time,” he teased, stepping a little closer, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.

“Oh, no! Just… boots!” you squeaked, backing up, practically tripping over yourself. “I really should go… water my… uh… plants!”

He chuckled, savoring every second of your panic. “Good luck with that,” he said, throwing in one last wink as he slipped back into his apartment, leaving you in the hallway, feeling like you’d just gone through a slow-motion car crash.

Back in your apartment, you slid down the door, hands over your face as Clara’s laughter erupted over the phone.

“Boots?” she howled. “THAT’S what you went with? Boots?”

You groaned, banging your head back against the door. “Shut up, Clara.”

× × × ×

Determined to reclaim a shred of your dignity, you strode into the local coffee shop, praying for a quiet morning with zero embarrassing encounters. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans.

There, right at the counter, was Bucky. He spotted you instantly, his face lighting up with that all-too-familiar grin that had haunted your dreams. There was no escape.

He waved you over, and before you could even think of pretending you hadn’t seen him, he was calling out, “Morning, neighbor! What’s your coffee order again?” His voice was loud enough that half the shop turned to look.

“Oh, um… it’s…” you stammered, but he’d already waved to the barista.

“Got it covered,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got a feeling you like it with extra cream.”

You choked on your own saliva, feeling your face turn crimson as he handed you the cup with a wink. 

“Unless I’m wrong?” he added with a smirk, feigning innocence.

“N-Nope, that’s right!” you managed, grabbing the cup like it was a shield. “Extra cream… perfect.”

He chuckled, gesturing to an empty booth in the corner. “Great. Then you won’t mind sitting down with me for breakfast.”

“Oh no, really, I should—”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, got somewhere better to be?”

You froze, helplessly aware that the entire coffee shop was listening in. You managed a nervous laugh, mumbling, “Well… no, I guess not…”

Before you knew it, you were sitting across from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, your cheeks burning as he sipped his coffee and watched you with a smug smile.

“So,” he said, leaning forward, “what’s a girl like you doing watching a guy like me online, anyway?”

Your jaw dropped, coffee cup halfway to your mouth. “I—I wasn’t watching—It was research!” you spluttered, already kicking yourself for falling right into his trap.

He chuckled, clearly reveling in your embarrassment. 

“Oh, sure, ‘research,’” he said, nodding like he totally believed you. “I get it. You know, it’s important to be informed.”

You practically shrank into your seat, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. “Could you not say that so loudly?”

He smirked, taking a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. 

“Relax, I’m just curious,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell his aftershave. “Gotta say, it’s a little flattering to have a fan right next door.”

Your brain completely short-circuited. “Fan? I—no! I mean, not like that… I… I barely even…” You could feel the lie crumbling in your throat as his smirk deepened.

“Uh-huh. Then why did you look like you were about to sprint every time you saw me?” He tilted his head, studying you, eyes twinkling. “And I swear you turned pink the second you walked in here.”

Your hands shot up, covering your cheeks. “I did not! You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Because it’s like clockwork. Every time I’m around, you look like you’ve been caught red-handed. I don’t mind, you know,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

You let out a strangled laugh, ready to crawl under the table. 

“That’s… obvious,” you muttered, feeling as though you might combust at any second.

“Okay, so since we’re having breakfast together, how about you tell me: any favorite scenes?” He laughed, looking entirely too amused as he stirred his coffee.

You practically choked on your coffee, face flaming as you tried to hide behind your cup. 

“I—I can’t believe you just asked that!” you squeaked, horrified and unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “It’s just small talk. I mean, who better to ask than a neighbor?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please pretend this conversation never happened?”

“Nope. Can’t do that,” he replied, laughing. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

Just as you were starting to pray for an earthquake to swallow you whole, you glanced up at him, cheeks still flaming. 

“Did you… did you know I recognized you this whole time?”

He leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. 

“Of course I did,” he said, laughing. “Figured it out the second I saw that look on your face. I just wanted to see if you’d ever bring it up.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, feeling mortification seep into your very bones. “And you kept messing with me?”

“Of course,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a wicked grin. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack. Guess now the ice is broken, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re the worst.”

He winked, finishing his coffee. “Yeah, but I make breakfast interesting, don’t I?”

You laughed, feeling the last traces of embarrassment fade away—well, at least enough to breathe normally again. But just as you started to feel almost… comfortable, Bucky tilted his head, giving you a curious look.

“So, neighbor,” he said, smirking, “I’ve gotta ask… what’s your name?”

You blinked, realizing with a jolt that you’d never actually told him. In all your attempts to dodge, deflect, and survive the relentless teasing, you hadn’t even bothered to introduce yourself.

“Oh… right,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I, uh, guess I never actually said.”

“Nope,” he replied, leaning in with a grin. “I just assumed you wanted to keep a little mystery between us.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Trust me, I’m not that mysterious.”

“Really?” he replied, eyebrows raised. “Because all this time I’ve been calling you ‘Yep.’”

Your face went red as you remembered the first time you’d stammered a barely coherent “yep” instead of an introduction. “Oh my god. You haven’t been calling me that in your head this whole time, have you?”

He shrugged, smirking. “It’s kind of cute. Suits you, actually.”

You groaned, but laughed despite yourself, finally holding out your hand across the table. “Alright. I’m Y/N. Officially.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, taking your hand, his grip warm and firm. His smirk softened into something a little more genuine. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Officially.”

His hand lingered in yours for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no innuendos—just the two of you, sitting across the table, smiling like two normal people who’d just met under… semi-normal circumstances.

Then, just as you were starting to think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this weirdly charming neighbor situation, he leaned back, that mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes.

“Now that we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, winking, “you can tell me all about your favorite scenes. You know, for professional feedback.”

You burst out laughing, face in your hands as he watched you with a triumphant grin. Yep, you thought, already regretting nothing and everything.

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ prada jungwon }

pairing: idol! jungwon x f. reader

contents: masturbation, sexting, cum play if you squint, soft-dom! jungwon, needy! reader, p in v, protected sex, kissing, making out, slight overstimulation, aftercare & fluff at the end <33

synopsis: idol jungwon who’s gone most of the night looking absolutely DELICIOUS at the prada event so you send some risky texts because he looks so hot you’re getting turned on. this leads to him coming home and fucking you.

i enjoyed writing this i hope you guys enjoy reading it ^_^ (w.c. 1.7k)

you and jungwon had been together for awhile now, so you were used to his hectic schedule and him being gone late at night or all night long. this doesn’t mean it sucked any less having him away from you so often. jungwon had only been home for two days before he had to turn around and spend practically all day at some prada event. it was nearing 10pm and jungwon had already been gone for hours. you kept seeing photos of him popping up on your feed and he looked so good.

his hair has been styled in an edward cullen esque fashion, exposed forehead and hair quiffed messily. a sleek black turtleneck sitting snug on his toned body, the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. black slacks and belt to match. he looked so fucking hot. and he was out having fun, looking so good, and here you were sitting in your shared bed chewing on your lip as you watched clips of your boyfriend walking around the prada store. there was one video in particular you couldn’t take your eyes away from, a short five second video that had your thighs clenching and heat starting to pool between your legs. he was just trying on some sunglasses, something completely innocent but he looked. so. damn. good. and in this moment all you wanted was his cock nestled inside of you as he fucked you silly.

with your phone in one hand, your free hand falls to the waistband of your shorts, dipping inside to apply pressure to your clothed heat. you hum lightly at the feeling, bringing your hand back up to slip past your underwear and directly onto your heat. you start moving your fingers slowly, paying extra attention to your clit. quiet moans start slipping past your lips and you begin to crave more. you remove your hand from your bottoms just long enough to shimmy them down and off of your legs. you spread your legs wider, not being constricted by the fabric of your shorts anymore. your hand dips back down, fingers circling over your drenched hole, you slide one finger in, slowly pumping it in and out of yourself, moans starting to pick up in volume as you imagine your boyfriends fingers in place of yours. your eyes are squeezed shut as your finger move’s expertly in and out of you. you add in a second finger, the stretch feeling so good but still not as good as when it’s your boyfriends fingers instead. your body begins to shudder every so often, your high getting close. you decide to remove your fingers from your hole, and move them up to your aching clit. rubbing circles as your whole body begins to shake, moans tumbling out of your mouth as your orgasm hits. your fingers begin to slow down as you ride out your high, still panting from the initial hit.

as your orgasm finishes, an idea pops into your head. you grab your phone off the bed, it sitting face down next to you as it had fallen from your hand at some point. you open your messages app and pull up jungwons contact. you press the camera icon, opening up the application. you take your other hand a slide it up your heat, collecting your juices. your body jolts slightly, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. you angle the phone to where you can see your bottom half in the screen, fingers resting on your mound. you hit the record button, showing off your shiny, wet pussy. then spending some time showing off your slick that’s on your fingers, slightly separating them to see a string of slick attached between the two. you angle to phone up to your face, bringing your other hand up at the same time. and you place your fingers in your mouth suckling on them slightly, then removing them with a pop. you press end video, watching your masterpiece before sending it to jungwon.

y/n: [attachment: 1 video]

y/n: i need you so badly right now wonie

you send an extra message with it, anxiety and excitement coursing through your veins as you watch the screen intently. waiting for his response. your eyes scan the screen nervously, finally seeing the small words “read 10:12pm” appear underneath your message. you chew on your lip nervously awaiting his response. you see three dots pop up indicating he is typing, then they go away, and for a moment, nothing. they finally pop up again after what feels like an eternity, and a message follows shortly there after.

won: i’ll be there shortly.

heat rises to your cheeks as you read the message. you weren’t expecting him to drop everything to come back home just because of your message. you lock your phone and wait in anticipation. about 20 minutes go by, and you finally hear the front door unlocking, opening and then closing. you feel as though all your senses are heightened. hearing every small noise made and feeling every vibration in the house. you see your boyfriends shadow appear at the door, causing you to look up and see him standing there, leaning against the doorframe. looking even sexier than he did in the videos.

“you could’ve gotten me in trouble y/n, what if my manager or one of the members had seen that?” he starts off with a light scolding before making his way over to you. your lip finds its way back under your teeth as you analyze his every move. you’re still sitting against the headboard, pantless, knees tucked to your chest slightly. he stops in front of you, towering over your sitting figure, and grabs your chin forcing you to look up at him. he takes your bottom lip under his thumb, pulling it from between your teeth, before lightly swiping it across the skin of your lip. he moves his hand to your cheek, caressing it slightly as you lean into his touch. “you’re so responsive, you really are needy for me huh?” he says. you nod eagerly, he leans down connecting his lips to yours in a kiss.

the kiss started off slow but picked up fairly quickly. before you knew it, your tongues were fighting for dominance and jungwon was leaning over top of you, at some point you ending up on your back. he broke from the kiss to trail kisses down your neck and the exposed parts of your collar bones. his fingers make their way to the hem of your shirt, “lets take this off yeah?” he says, you give him a nod, allowing him to remove your shirt from your body. his eyes immediately raking over your bare chest. “no bra? you planned this didn’t you?” he chuckles slightly. the hardness to his voice sending shockwaves straight to your core. “i-i didn’t… you just looked so good tonight won” you reply. he shakes his head at you, still chuckling slightly. he leans up off of you to rid himself of his own clothes. you rake your eyes down his entire body, mouth watering slightly at the sight of his hard cock.

he digs through the drawer of the nightstand to pull out a condom. quickly opening it and sliding it on his length. “i assume i don’t need to prep you as it seems you already did that yourself” he raises his eyebrow at you, and you nod shyly, heat rushing to you cheeks. he leans back over you, aligning his cock with your entrance, and slowly pushing inside you. you moan loudly, the feeling of him stretching you being absolutely euphoric. he groans slightly at the feeling of his cock being squeezed so well by your tight cunt. eyes squeezing shut as his head rolls back before coming around to face you again. his arms are planted on either side of you, your hands gripping his biceps, nails digging in slightly as he starts to move.

his thrusts pick up speed fairly quickly, and pretty soon you both are a moaning mess. jungwon taking time to lean down and kiss you ever so often, whispering praises in your ear about how well you’re taking him. his head falls into the crook of your neck, your arms wrapped around him as you hold him close. he’s still fucking into your cunt, his pace never faltering. he feels you start clenching around him signaling that your getting close, he brings his head up from your neck to pepper kisses on your face, before landing on your lips. he kisses you passionately, one of his hands traveling down to your heat, and rubbing circles on your clit as he thrusts into you. you moan into the kiss, panting ever so slightly at the same time.

you feel your muscles begin to tighten and everything starts to feel too good, and before you know it your orgasm comes crashing down on you. legs shaking, and moans spilling past your lips. jungwon continues to thrust into you, chasing his own high while helping you ride out yours. you begin to feel overstimulated as his thrusts get sloppier, his own high about to hit. “s’ t-too much wonie” you cry out, fingers raking down his back. “be a good girl and take it” he says back to you. his hips finally start to stutter as he cums, his seed filling up the condom. his thrusts finally slow, and you can finally catch your breath. his pulls his cock out of you, and you whine at the loss of fullness, clenching around nothing.

jungwon peels the condom off, tying it before throwing it away. he throws his underwear back on and goes to the bathroom briefly enough to grab a towel. he makes his way back over to you, sitting next to you on the bed, parting your legs enough to clean up the mess you guys had made. your body shudders slightly, sensitivity still evident. he tosses the towel into the hamper, and opens a drawer to your dresser, grabbing you a fresh pair of underwear. he slides them onto you, grabbing your shirt and shorts, and putting them onto you next. he climbs back into the bed next to you, laying down and wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close as you nestle your head into his chest. he caresses your head, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“thank you for coming home for me wonie” you smile up at him. he smiles back, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “you’re welcome sweetheart, this was way better than that after party anyways.”

.

.

.

[fangirl-dot-com]

😈Track 4 - I Did Something Bad

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Alex was standing by the iconic bright blue garage. It was almost time for the rest of the grid to arrive for testing, but he didn’t care about that. All he cared about was George’s post from three days ago. The paddle game and its players were still a mystery to him. 

Who has George playing with? And why hadn’t he told him? 

Weren’t they supposed to be best friends? 

The Thai rolled his eyes as he scrolled through the numerous comments about how the two other players must have been Logan Sargeant and Y/n L/n. And if they were the players then that must mean that they will be the new Lamborghini drivers.  

He scoffed out loud. “As if.” 

“As if what?” a French voice sounded. Alex turned to look at his new rookie teammate. He tried to give the twenty-year-old a smile. He held up his phone, but the screen had gone dark Theo didn’t need to know that Alex was trying to find gossip like a middle-schooler. 

“Just fan theories,” he muttered, opening his phone back up and exiting out of Instagram and back to his messages. His eyes widened as he read through the chat. 

Theo’s eyebrow arched. “What’s wrong?” 

“George wants us over by the media pen. We got to go.” 

The two Williams drivers both started to quickly walk. Alex weaved through the crowds, turning back once every so often to see if Theo was still with him. For half a second, he remembered how he would just leave Logan to fend for himself. The American was often late getting to places because he didn’t know where anything was. At the time, Alex had said that he wasn’t responsible for his teammate. 

But now as he was navigating the big crowds at Bahrain, he wished he had spent a little more time with Logan, making sure that he was ok. 

However, that was in the past and Alex couldn’t waste time on it. Theo was his teammate now and Logan was off doing who-knows-what. On the inside, he was hoping to never run into the blond again. The American was just another sign of his mistakes. 

He always believed that he was the superior of the two, often questioning James as to why Logan hadn’t been replaced farther into the season like Nyck had been.

The team principal always rolled his eyes at Alex. 

“It’s because we aren’t Red Bull. We don’t want to drop Logan like Red Bull dropped you.” 

That had stung, but Alex always internally laughed. Logan was inevitably dropped by Williams, just like he had been with Red Bull. The only difference is that Alex stayed and extended his contract. Was this how Max Verstappen felt? 

Alex was so lost in thought that he didn’t see the back of someone and rammed into them.  

“Oh, hey mate.” 

Speak of the devil. 

“Hi Max,” he greeted back, rubbing his chest. “Did your back get bigger or have you always been this broad.” 

Max winced at the inuendo. Wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t be a string bean like Alex or George could be. 

“Ah, Albono, no need to be jealous that Max can probably bench press more than you.”

The Dutchman internally smiled at the familiar Monegasque voice. Charles had made his way over the moment that Alex ran into Max. 

Theo was right next to Alex still, reminding Charles of a lost puppy. He didn’t understand why Alex hadn’t let Logan do that last year if the Thai was fine with it this year. The Monegasque didn’t have time to ask before Lando and Oscar joined the bunch. His green eyes flitted over to George and Lewis who were whispering to each other. 

Lando had a grin on his face as he greeted the four drivers. 

“Hello mate.” The Briton clasped Max’s hand before going around. Oscar followed in suit. 

Theo, a little nervous around the older drivers, tried to make conversation. 

“How are the cars looking?” 

Suddenly he had five pairs of eyes on him, which maybe would have made others shrink away, but the Frenchman didn’t want to appear weak. 

Oscar’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “They look good. Maybe someone will win a race this year.” He poked Lando’s side, making the brunet squawk. 

“I’ll win if Max decides to DNF.” 

The group laughed a bit. Max responded with an huff. 

“For the last time Lando, you need to be faster to beat me. I won’t let you pass and if I’m behind you, I’ll just pass you again.” 

He had a cheeky grin making Lando pout. 

Charles turned back to Theo and Alex. 

“How are you two feeling about the cars?” 

The two Williams drivers perked up. They had been working hard all winter break to make upgrades. Alex would never admit, but most of the ideas had come from what Logan had said during 2023. They didn’t have a championship contending car, but they would be able to bring in some decent points. 

Theo took the opportunity to answer. 

“It looks all right. Hoping to make it into Q2 at least. We have good 1-lap pace.” 

Lando snorted. “You’ll definitely make it into Q2. I’m forecasting no crashes in Free Practice.” 

Theo’s head tilted. “How come?” 

“Because there’s not a certain driver on the grid this year. Now maybe I can win a race without having to go around his debris. ” 

“Lando you’re such a narcissist,” Max murmured, looking around hoping no one heard him. The last thing the Briton needed was another cancel culture on him. 

Lando’s green eyes widened. “What? I’m only saying the truth. Even Oscar was saying something about it this morning. Right mate? Logan will probably never put a foot in the paddock again.” 

Oscar looked down, semi-embarrassed, but also, again, he shouldn’t be worrying about Logan anymore. The Aussie looked back up. 

“Yeah, I mean, he crashed out a lot and it was all his own faults. It’d probably be better if he stayed away for a bit.” 

Max and Charles didn’t seem too certain that Oscar truly believed it. But the look in Oscar’s eyes did tell them that there was some truth. Max wanted to bring up the fact that Charles last year did crash out a few times, but he still had a seat. Charles’s hand on his back made him wait. 

It was silent for a moment before George walked up to the group. 

“The new drivers are about to walk in. Do you want to go with me to meet them?” 

Charles and Max looked at him and eagerly nodded. Oscar and Lando shrugged, but agreed to walk with George. Alex said nothing but still tagged along, which made Theo follow the older drivers. 

Time to go see who copped Logan’s driver number. 

Alex truly didn’t want to see another car with the number 2 on it that wouldn’t be Logan. It wouldn’t feel great. But Alex guessed that’s what the past was, an emotion that just gnawed on your insides until it went away with time. 

He once again ran into someone, but this time it was Lando. 

“Lando, why’d you…” 

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as his eyes were now glued to the turnstiles. 

There was no way. 

Logan grinned when his eyes landed on the small group. George, Max, and Charles were still walking toward him and you, but the other four stopped dead in their tracks. 

“Nice and sunny today?” Logan jokingly questioned as he hugged George first. You made yourself busy with greeting Max and Charles. 

You and Logan had decided to show up in the Lamborghini merchandise. Logan was in a black t-shirt but you were dressed in a Lamborghini issued pantsuit. But for the race next week, the two of you would show up in sponsor clothes. The yellow decals looks great against his black shirt. 

Charles smiled as he leaned back from the hug. “Looking a bit bee-ish today.” 

You rolled your eyes as you looked down your own suit that had bits of yellow intricately designed. 

“Charles,” you whined, “now I won’t be able to see anything else. Even our car is black and yellow.” 

You let out a huff, but the smile on your face contradicted how you were acting. Logan walked up next to you and greeted the other two, which gave you and George time to talk as well. 

“They’re still staring,” Logan murmured as he leaned in to side hug Max. 

“Let them.” 

The now group of five walked farther into the paddock. Logan had wanted to say something, or even look at the other four, but the look on their faces deterred him. With your arm linked in his, you pulled him along, also not giving him a chance to stop. 

“You don’t need them.” 

Logan nodded. 

Charles leaned closer. “They were so sure that Logan wasn’t going to come back this season. I think Lando was betting that Mick would be in the seat.” 

Your smirk grew. “Played them like a violin Logan. Making it look so easy for the rest of us.” 

Logan barely glanced back at the still stuck drivers, who turned around to watch them walk away. 

“They’re looking at me like I did something bad. But, why does it feel good?” the American male asked. His heart wanted to hurt because of how they treated him last year, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at their jaws on the floor. 

Max snorted. “Because they fucked you up last year mate.” 

George let out a gasp and put his hands over your ears. “No bad words around the children Max.” 

You quickly batted his hands away. “I’m twenty-two George. Also, why aren’t your hands over Charles ‘vanilla is the best ice cream flavor’ Leclerc’s ears instead?” 

The Ferrari-driver glared at you. “Says the woman who thinks chocolate is somehow superior.” 

The two of you started to bicker as you walked. George, Max, and Logan laughed from behind. Logan pulled out his phone and took a quick picture before opening his schedule to see who he was with for media. He quietly cursed as he looked at the names. 

George winced at the photo. “I can’t believe that they’re putting you with Lando, Oscar, and Alex.” 

A quick buzz from Max’s phone made him take it out quickly. He smiled as he showed Logan. 

“I guess they changed mine. I’m now with you and the wolves.” 

Logan tried to feel a bit better about it, but he was visibly deflating. He just hoped that he could sit next to the Dutchman without having to sit next to anyone else. 

Thankfully, when it was time, Max had saved him an end seat. It was Logan on the left, then Max, then Alex, then Lando, then Oscar. Logan hadn’t greeted any of them as he walked in, only giving Max a quick smile before they got started. He ran a hand through his hair quickly and his eyes looked over at John, his new PR manager. The older man gave him an encouraging nod as a journalist started to ask Max a question. 

To Logan’s delight, most of the questions were for Max about the RB20 and if it would be as fast as the RB19. Max went through the motions to give his most mundane answer he could muster. Logan started to pick at his fingernails as he waited for the next question, which was for him. His head rose to look at the small crowd. 

“James McHone, with News 5, question for Logan. Why did you come back to race for Lamborghini after a very unsuccessful rookie year with Williams?” 

He wanted to wince, but kept his face neutral. He raised the mic to his lips. 

“Well, uh, I thought I wasn’t done and hadn’t been able to show people what I could do. During 2023 season, I had multiple people telling me that Williams was the best I could ever get and to not throw away a good thing. But in the end, to people it seems that I did throw it away. However, now with Lamborghini and Michael, I think I can finally show that they made the wrong decision.” 

Whispers went through the crowd at his last statement, but the genuine smile on John’s face made him feel better. 

“Melany Lancy, with Circuit Noise, follow up question for Logan. Some drivers have mentioned that a possible return for you hadn’t been something that was believable and that Logan Sargeant should have never gotten into Formula 1. Thoughts?” 

Logan took a deep breath before answering. He smirked and rolled his shoulders a bit. 

“I know I’m a good driver with the right car, and Williams just didn’t have that for me. I believe that Lamborghini has everything that I require. The team has really listened to me and Y/n, my teammate, during the break. The car was designed for us. I hadn’t really heard any rumors regarding drivers saying I should have never been in Formula 1. But all I can really say is if they drop my name, I don’t own them anything. I’m just here to do my job and do it well.”

Logan wasn’t asked any more question after that, but he could see the embarrassed red start to fill in Oscar’s, Lando’s, and Alex’s faces. He hadn’t heard rumors, but he had heard them say that first hand back in Brazil. 

He was quick to stand up and leave once they got the go ahead. He had a big smile as he made his way back to the garage with Max in tow. Somehow, the Lamborghini garage was placed next to Red Bull. On the other side of the navy garage was Ferrari. 

The American could only laugh at the thought of them trying to put both Italian teams garages next to each other. Enzo Ferrari would roll in his grave and Tonino would have a fit. He glanced over to Max before lifting his hand in a wave. 

“Y/n! Lo sai che a Tonino verrebbe un infarto vedendoti nel garage rosso?” (You know that Tonino would have a heart attack seeing you in the red garage?) 

Max’s head whipped at the fluent sounding Italian that left Logan’s mouth. Logan chose to ignore and kept smiling. Even in the Ferrari garage, Charles’s eyes went wide at the sound. The Monegasque’s head turned to you waiting for an answer. 

You waved a hand down like being in the Ferrari garage wasn’t a big deal. 

“E piu come se Enzo si stesse rotolando nella tomba. Charles aveva fatto una prova del gelato per il suo negozio e ne volevo un po’” (More like Enzo is rolling in his grave. Charles had test ice cream for his shop and I wanted some.” 

Logan rolled his eyes. Max just stood there in an utter look of confusion and bewilderment. 

“Charles, hai altro da condividere?” (Charles, do you have more to share?” 

The Ferrari driver was still frozen as he listened to you converse with one of his engineers in fluent Italian. It scared him even more when he truly realized that Logan was fluent as well. He quickly shut his eyes and shook his head before answering. 

“Questi ragazzo. Sono io quello che finira presto nella tomba. Si, ne ho di piu.” (These kids. I’m the one that’s going to be in an early grave. Yes, I have more.) 

Charles beckoned them over. Logan took the lead, letting a still very confused Max follow him. He finally found his voice once he stepped into the garage. 

“Ok, but what the actual fu-” 

“Language!” you yelled, licking the spoon that was currently being used to eat more ice cream. “Charles, I think the tiramisu could use some more espresso. It’s still a bit too sweet.” 

Charles muttered something, but wrote some words down in a separate yellow notebook that had “LEC” on the front. 

Logan had found a cup of some strawberry and started to eat it. Max stood still but was handed a cup of a familiar green ice cream. He looked up at Charles with wide eyes. 

“I thought you said that this was an abomination to the ice cream society Charlie,” the Dutchman said with a smirk on his face. 

Charles went a bit red. 

“Well, you like it so…” he didn’t finish and just let the words die off. Max just hummed contently as he ate the peppermint flavored ice cream. After Charles finished writing something, he took a deep breath. 

“So, when did the two of you learn Italian?” 

Your mouth was full of ice cream so you nudged Logan. He put the spoon back in the little cup before answering. 

“Y/n and I always thought it’d be funny to learn a language so that we could talk about stuff together and not everyone would know. I wanted to learn Russian but someone couldn’t tell the difference between the vowels.” 

You let out a whine at his confession. 

“Russian also doesn’t sound as sexy as Italian.” 

Without realizing, Max hummed in agreement. Charles went bright red at that as well. 

“Anyway, so when we were in F3 together for a little bit, we started to buckle down and learn it. Took about a year and a half to master it but we did.” 

The Ferrari driver looked a bit pained as he looked down at his cup. If Logan knew Italian, what had he overheard when Charles wasn’t aware. Logan could only guess what he was feeling like right now. 

“Charles, I never overheard anything bad from you. And if I did, it was only constructive criticism. I actually listened to it a lot and it helped with COTA.” 

Logan put a hand on Charles’s shoulder to try to convey that he really didn’t care. The Monegasque was never mean or rude toward him, like some orange drivers were. And Logan thinks that’s why it hurts more. The people who were supposed to be his good friends were mean to him. And the people who he wasn’t even that close with were nicer. It made his brain hurt. 

You took this as a moment to also confess something. 

“Logan also knows Dutch.” 

The American went bright red under Max’s eyes. The Dutchman had a big smirk.  

“Weet je?” (Do you now?) 

Logan didn’t reply in the language. 

“Yes, I know some. I’m not as fluent as you are.” 

“He wanted to learn it so he could understand most of your other interviews where you talked more about the car.” 

“Y/n!” Logan whipped around and yelled. You only shrugged. 

“It’s the truth.” 

Logan then suddenly remembered something. He turned toward Charles. 

“Y/n knows French!” 

A spoon hit his head, but the American didn’t even flinch. This time, it was your turn to turn as red as the Ferrari car behind you. 

Charles cooed at, surprisingly, the both of them. 

“Aw, multi-lingual babies.” 

Your head was in your hands. “I am never talking to you ever again.” 

“Well that’s not helpful,” a male voice sounded at the front of the garage. Michael and Marissa were both smiling at the group of four. You slid off the table that you were currently sitting on. 

“I guess that’s our cue to go. Remember Charles, more espresso, less depresso.” 

You led Logan out of the garage as you followed the siblings. 

“Je te verrai plus tard petite abeille!” (I’ll see you later little bee!) 

You groaned once more after hearing Charles call after you. You glared up at Logan.

“You better be thankful that I love you.” 

Logan put a hand on his heart. “Aww, love you too.” 

“I still won’t hesitate to run you off the track though.” 

“Wouldn’t doubt it tesoro.” 

lamborghini_racing has posted

lamborghini_racing didn't throw away a good thing

liked by phoenix95, lamborghini, sargeant4ever, and 3,205,859 others

lambo_f1duo ok, but the caption slays 💅

swift_on_track truly is a reputations era, the black fits are fitting

charles_leclerc look, you even came in your little bee car 🐝

phoenix95 I will run you off the track with said bee car, it comes with a stinger

charles_leclerc ok, no more ice cream for you

phoenix95 I TAKE IT BACK PLEASE DONT DO THAT

f1_gridgang man, this team is going to be top of the grid

lambof1 your honor, I fear they slayed too much

venus2 has posted

venus2 i'd do it over and over and over again if I could

liked by maxverstappen1, sargeantgirlie, oscarpiastri, and 5,305,104 others

lambovsferrari glad to see you back in the paddock bro, wouldn't be the same without you 💪

loscar_no_more BAHAHAHA NOT OSCAR HIDING IN THE LIKES

my_goat_logan you're going to come back even better than before!

phoenix95 picture creds would be preferable 🤨

venus2 oh sorry, thanks max for taking the pictures

maxverstappen1 you're welcome!

phoenix95 I still have Charles in my garage

maxverstappen1 you give him BACK

phoenix95 no.

charles_leclerc THAT'S IT - NO MORE ICE CREAM FOR THE TWO OF YOU (Logan let me out)

venus2 on it

ferrari&lambo_crew by I know that Enzo is rolling in his grave rn and Tonino is on the verge of an aneurism

tswizzlexf1 the I Did Something Bad lyrics >>>>>>

phoenix95 has posted

phoenix95 it just felt so good

liked by venus2, barnes&noble, dior, lewishamilton, and 5,305,201 others

booktok she's a racer AND A BOOKWORM?? she's just my type

venusxphoenix and Logan's too apparently

y/n.nation I'm digging the new layout and profile

venus2 you're welcome for the books

phoenix95 could have gotten them myself (ily and thank you)

charles_leclerc you're being...too nice 🤨

venus2 she loves me

phoenix95 gag (affectionately) 🫶

charles_leclerc SEE

maxverstappen1 it's her love language

venus2 it's the same as you and max talking about each other to everyone else

charles_leclerc low blow man, low blow 👊😔

rari_lambo_quartet I love them your honor

bee_lamborghini so ready for the first race

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[ollimus-prime]

Jazz Hands

A/N, not important: First transformers fic, sorry if this is kinda iffy. I'll get better as I write more. I tried my best man. Requests open if anyone wants to see anything specific. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: kidnapping

Words: 1578

Summary: It's time for the Autobots to regroup, yet Jazz isn't yet willing to let his new human go.

Low music hummed out of your speakers, the volume turned down low so you could concentrate on the dark road. Your high beams were on, though even they seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness of the winter night. Your car’s engine hummed lowly as you drove, the bumps in the old asphalt road causing your car to intermittently shake. It was peaceful, as far as lone drives went.

You rub your tired eyes with the heel of your hand, tapping the steering wheel along to the beat of the song playing with the other. It was your eighth hour in the car by now, and you were stuck between toughing it out for the next five hours or just stopping in the next town you come across. You glance down at the map shining out from your phone on your center console, checking to see how close any hotels were. Or a walmart. Sleeping in your car sounded like a dream at this point. 

You sigh, quickly tapping on the nearest hotel in the navigation app and changing your destination. The screen lit up with a bright ‘CHANGE COURSE?’, waiting patiently for you to hit the confirmation before your map starts to bug out. You curse under your breath, both hands now gripping the steering wheel in annoyance. It takes a moment for the app to recalibrate, the icon showing you as driving backwards for a moment before righting itself once more. You relax back down, glancing at the number of miles until your exit. Thirty-seven to go and you’re home free.

You’re able to go twenty minutes before your radio starts to glitch out, the low music fading into mild static before changing into the familiar yet confusing revving noises. You sigh, fiddling with the knob on the stereo to try and fix it, grumbling under your breath. You had bought the Porsche from the used car dealership months ago, and while the stereo tending to jam up or change channels at will was annoying, it wasn’t enough for you to fork over the cash to get it fixed. It takes you a couple minutes of fighting the broken signal before you give up and switch the volume all the way down, opting to ride in silence instead. Silence immediately broken by the loud siren and lights of an approaching cop car.

You pull over with a loud curse, clutching tight to the steering wheel and expecting the cop to whizz past to reach whatever emergency they were being called to. To your surprise, and immense resentment, the cop pulls over alongside you. You grit your teeth, the grinding echoing in your head as your heart rate spikes. You quickly try to gather the necessary documents before leaving both hands on the steering wheel in hopes the exchange would be quick. You just wanted to leave. Thoughts of driving off after the cop makes it to your car tempt you, but you shake them off. You wanted to leave with a ticket at most, not a date with a judge.

It feels like forever before you’re able to pry your eyes away from the forward stare they were stuck in. Confusion seeps into your mind and muddles your frustration as you realize no officer had exited the vehicle. You watch the car for a second, face furrowing in concentration. Its low beams were still on, making it hard to see much more than the fuzzy shape of the car behind you. Another second passes as you await an officer to emerge, heart pounding in anticipation.

The car behind you shifts, a loud crunching sound emitting from the vehicle. Your eyes widen as the car breaks apart and stands up, your heart immediately dropping into your stomach. 

“What funding provided that?!” You exclaim in a panic, grabbing at your seatbelt to free yourself from the tin can of death your car became. To hell with a misdemeanor, you were not sticking around long enough to be crushed by a cop car on a rampage.

A loud long rev comes from the approaching thing’s engine, causing your car to start to shake. The seatbelt unclips, letting you make a break for the door before your ears ring with the sound of scraping metal. You scream as your car’s interior shifts around you, the windows pulling back until you’re stuck in a much smaller space. The sudden cramped area and pitch black makes your entire body tense up, your body shaking in fear. You can feel the metal vibrate and shift under you, the air permeated with a harsh chemical smell mixed with motor oil and gasoline. You curl up in a ball on instinct, unable to cry or scream or move. Cold air surrounds you for a second before you’re pulled out by a massive hand curled around your midsection, holding you just tight enough for it to be uncomfortable. The squeeze of fingers locked around your midsection knocks the breath from you, your limbs stinging against the frigid metal. Your eyes squeeze shut as you wait to be crushed, your arms desperately pushing at the giant metal fingers encasing you.

“Put it down, Jazz.” A harsh voice sounds. It was robotic in a way, a metal ring to each syllable that sounded, yet still sounded alive. You’re shooken slightly, the not-car holding you lifting you up as a way of emphasis. The movement makes your stomach drop, your vision swimming behind your eyelids.

“No. I told you already, I’m not leaving them.”

The angry growl of the once cop car’s engine causes your eyes to pop open, causing you to finally face the metal monster. An act you immediately regret upon looking at the sharp blue ‘eyes’ that seemed to possess a hatred for your very being. The instinct to run and hide consumes you with little ability to follow through. The Porsche turned robot you bought had you in its grasp, and was clearly not interested in letting you go. It feels as if your very soul is gripped with terror, your eyes locked on the face of something that shouldn’t be able to exist. Your stomach lurches from fear and discomfort, the cold air biting at your face reminding you that this is all real.

“It’s trembling, Jazz. There is clearly something wrong with it.” The giant white mech seethes, gesturing to your shaking form in what seemed like frustration. The robot holding you makes a concerning metal-screeching noise from its chest, quickly turning its hand and bringing you up to its face to inspect you. The ‘eye’ contact between you and the metal behemoth makes the air around you feel even colder than it already did. 

You were not dressed for the weather in the slightest, only donning a pair of jeans with a ratted old sweater. You hadn’t planned on getting out of your car for a while, so dressing any warmer hadn’t been a concern. You’re able to see your breath in front of you, each gasp of air you’re able to manage causes your lungs to constrict and crackle from the cold. The blue visor dims at your miserable state, its mouth curling in upset. It uses a finger from its other hand to pet your head, something that only makes you panic more. The bot sighs, curling both hands around you and holding you close to its chest.

“They’re just a bit scared. It’s not that bad.” The vibrato in the robot's voice causes his chest to vibrate uncomfortably. The mech pretends to not notice your discomfort, rubbing your stomach and chest rhythmically with his thumb. “You won’t even notice I have them.”

A couple more concerning sounds come from the cop-car-robot causing the Porsche to tighten his grip. You wanted to voice your opinion, to fight or protest or scream, but there was nothing you could do. They continued to bicker almost, the bot holding you seeming much calmer than the one it was facing. It talked about you like one would when bringing a lost kitten home without telling their family first.

The cop car seemed to give up on arguing with the Porsche, your handler’s chest rumbling in smug satisfaction. You help as the familiar sound of the cars changing ripples through the air once more, the hands holding you disappearing as you disappear back into the chest of the beast.

The lurching stops finally, you ending up dazed in the passenger seat. The rev of your car's engine knocks you out of it, pure instinct driving you forward as you try to do anything to get out. The seatbelt around you tightens to the point of near pain, the inability to bring your back off the seat only fueling the desperate feeling to get out. You grope around the car for anything you could grab, only for the crushing realization that nothing you touched worked. The stick shift for the transmission refused to budge and no amount of clawing at the door handle could get it to pop open. You were trapped in your own car, heading off at speeds you wouldn’t dream of hitting. You sink down in the seat in defeat. You could only hope they’d have to stop soon for gas or whatever else robot cars needed to run on. Maybe you could figure out how to escape then. For now, the only thing you do is come along for the ride.

Pt. 2

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book. 

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about. 

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.” 

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.” 

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

[naisilla]

Heartsteel x Reader

Heart Stolen.

Content: You make some new online friends

The lobby was empty. Your icon stood alone amongst the five spaces. No one showed up tonight. You sigh, leaving your mouse hovering over the 'find match' button. Was it worth gaming tonight?

You didn't blame the others. Now that high school was over, everyone had begun branching out into their new lives. Some grew further than others. At least everyone kept in touch through Discord. But tonight, only you were online.

It's a shame. You didn't get the privilege of being able to stay up late as frequently as the others because of the work shifts you had. Some days, you have to wake up early in the morning at 5. On others, you finished the closing shift at 9. To get enough sleep, you would have to go to bed before your friends would even get online to game.

The only nights you could indulge yourself were nights before your days off. Three nights a week, you could finally catch up with your friends. If only they were available those nights. Sometimes, they were busy, tired, or "not in the mood." Honestly, it pissed you off.

Looks like it was turning out to be another lonely night, another disappointment. You weren't mad at your friends, but it would be nice to have some company tonight. Your eyes trained onto your monitor. The find match button beckons you.

Finding a match alone was a little intimidating. What if you messed up and made a mistake that cost your team? You were a little sensitive to mean comments. Going competitive where players were toxic didn't seem so alluring anymore.

A defeated sigh escapes your lips. You needed to become emotionally independent. Perhaps a warm up game might calm your nerves. Dragging your mouse, you select draft pick and choose bot lane for your autofill. Finally, you click Find Match.

You wait with bated breath as your client searches for a match. With each passing second, you became increasingly regretful of your decision. You should've just given up on gaming and gone with binge watching something.

The client suddenly displays the message "Match Found!" and you get grouped with four strangers onto a team. You're assigned bot lane, and you go to select your ADC. After clicking on "Daughter of the void." you pause. Another player had also selected an ADC champion.

You hiss under your breath. "Shit." this was awkward. One of you needed to go support, but this other player had already chosen "The Weapon of the Faithful." You squint, taking a look at their username, 신자의 무기.

Korean? On an Oceania server? How strange. A message pops up in the lobbies chat window. EZ: uh oh EZ: glwt

Sighing, you force yourself to scan through the available supports, both in your inventory and free rotation. "Maven of the strings" had a simple kit right? Honestly, you weren't sure but the countdown was ticking and you needed to pick something.

Perhaps you could dodge? You wouldn't mind waiting in queue with low priority. You frown as a spike of determination hits you. No way you were backing out, you were assigned bot. This other player was given support, it should be them dealing with this.

10 seconds left

Ugh how serious was this matchup anyways?

5 seconds left

Screw it you're dodging this.

Your mouse clicks on the exit button and you breathe a sigh of relief as your client continued to search for another match. A blue light reflects in your eye as another 'match found' widget pops up on your client and you readily accept it.

What the fuck!?

To your disbelief you get thrown into another lobby matchup with 신자의 무기 and EZ.

EZ: no way...

You groan and rub your temple before leaning forward in your seat and typing into the chat:

(Y/U/N): Hey, do you want to go ADC or SUPP?

Your eyes remain fixated as they await a response...

A little blip appears on your screen, drawing your attention to the friend request from 신자의 무기. You frown, you don't typically accept friend requests from anyone you don't personally know. But it wouldn't hurt to select 'accept' if it doesn't go well you can always block them.

Seconds after accepting the request you receive a message, a discord link.

This isn't a bot is it?

Your monitor switches over to Discord inviting you to join a server "The Boyz". You can feel hesitation in joining the group, the last thing an introvert like you wanted was to listen to another one of those obnoxiously loud and annoying boys that scream on call like a prepubescent loltyler1.

Screw it, you had already gone out of your comfort zone enough might as well continue the streak.

You join the call:

"AYO THEY JOINED!"

The Discord call erupted in a chorus of excited greetings from EZ, his icon almost glowing a constant green from his excited chatter. You were surprised by how charming and friendly his voice sounded, nothing like the usual screamers you're used to on voice chat.

"Hello (Y/U/N)" says 자의 무기, his voice is barely louder than a whisper, yet it still manages to cut through the noise with surprising ease.

"Hey!" You chime back, trying to match their energy.

"Sorry about the misunderstanding with Phel, he's new to League." You tilt your head in interest. Phel? That's an odd name.

"Liar" Phel retorts. "I wasn't paying attention to my role, sorry for stealing your adc."

"Don't worry about it." You reply reassuringly.

"Wanna try again? I can go "The Redeemer" as support."

"Sure let's give it a shot."

And just like that, you were now playing with two new friends. It didn't take long for you to find two extra random players to join your team in lobby and this time there was no drama in champ select.

The match starts spawing your and your teammates on the blue side, you and phel guide your champions to follow your jungler to leash at the red buff. While you wait at camp for the brambleback to spawn you decide to try and get to know these two.

"So is Phel short for something? I've never heard a name like that before."

"Oh uh yeh, My actual name is Aphelios."

You raise a brow intrigued. "Where does that originate from?"

"I believe it's Greek, roughly translates to: far from the sun"

"Oh? Are you Greek?"

You can hear Ez snort. "He most definitely isn't"

"I'm Korean actually."

"Ah I see, I didn't want to assume from your username."

Aphelios laughs, his voice so soft and delicate.

The red brambleback crawls out of the ground and you jump straight into lowering it's hp with your auto attacks and Q, Letting your jungler finish it off before moving onto the krugs.

"I also have a very interesting name too" Ez chimes in, his voice slightly whining at the end. A chuckle escapes your mouth.

"My bad, what's your name then Ez?" You ask, voluntarily taking the bait as you and Aphelios walk to the middle of bot lane.

You can feel Ez smirking over the voice call his voice reverberates in your headset. "It's Jarro" His voice goes on a tangent explaining the origin of his name while you focus on your bot lane as you come across the enemy team. "The Sheriff of Piltover" and an "Empress of the elements"

"The plauge rat" suddenly appears in front of you, landing two auto's as you back away sending your Q missiles at him. Damn they ganking this early?

You fall back, trading attacks with the enemy adc as the red minions crash your wave, heading towards your first turret. Jarro is still rambling on.

"So what's your name?" Jarro asks, his voice finally breaking into your focus.

"I'm (Y/N)."

Jarro let's out an "ahh" in response, his tone warm and friendly. "What does that mean?"

You shrug even though no one can actually see you. "I don't know it's just my name." you say, your eyes darting from the screen to the vc every now and then.

"I think you have a nice name." Aphelios says, he had been quiet up till this point, also focusing on your lane as you traded with the enemy laners together. There's a soothing quality to his soft-spoken voice. Despite his shyness, he felt compelled to compliment you on your name.

"Thanks but I really can't be compared to a name like yours, you sound like you're a fantasy character."

a hint of embarrassment in his voice. He didn't see himself as a fantasy character, and he was never comfortable with accepting compliments.

"My name is nice too right Phel?" Jarro's voice chimes in cheekily fishing for compliments.

Aphelios lets out a soft sigh and rolls his eyes at Jarro's question. He knows he is only looking for compliments, but it's all in good fun.

"Yes, Jarro, yours is nice too." He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Aphelios glances at your profile on his screen and his expression softens.

The next few minutes are solely focused on your laning. You play your champion passively using your ranged W to your advantage while your health is low as you focus on poking the enemies from a safe distance while farming.

Shortly after, your jungler comes down from jungle and you aggressively go in to chase down the support who tries to run back to their turret. The enemy adc is slain by your jungler, leaving it just between you and the empress. You ignore your low health and follow them as she runs, she casts ignite but with a single W you take the kill then quickly recall in a bush.

"That was close, good job (Y/N)" Aphelios says, you smile.

"Thanks."

You notice the dragon is up and your jungler is pinging it, you cancel your recall and quickly take care of it before the enemy laners can get there. You run around the dragon camp picking up the honey fruit as the three of you go to recall in the bush behind dragon.

The enemy adc appears in your vision, walking towards your bush where the three of you hide, poor thing walked right into her death. You can hear a "pfft" pick up on Aphelios mic as you finally recall to base.

The game continues as you return back to farming minions and trading with the enemy bot laners, Aphelios manages to take out the adc forcing the support to go into a bush and recall before he can chase her down. You make sure to place a vision ward at the bottom of the river to keep an eye out for enemy ganks while Aphelios goes to the top to place another.

The support returns and begins to attack you and boy does she hurt, you fall back as your health bar is hacked at. Lucky Aphelios returns to bot to heal you and you both go back to pressing on as the jungler chases the enemy midlaner nearby, killing her. The three of you easily over powering the other two as the adc dies and the support retreats leaving their turret vunrable.

You enter the mid game phase and things are going good, none of your turrets have been taken down yet. You did die shortly after taking their turret but you were quick to bounce back. There was a comfortable silence in the chat when suddenly you hear someone humming.

Surprisingly Aphelios starts humming, not just generically either, whatever tune is in his head is a beautiful melody. His voice was so smooth and delicate, the way it danced along the notes in perfect rhythm, it was enchanting.

You feel nervous bringing it up but eventually, your thoughts escape through your lips. "Wow, your singing voice is so beautiful Phel."

Aphelios' humming stops abruptly, clearing his throat. "Sorry, I thought I muted my headset."

"What are you apologizing for? You have a great voice my guy" Jarro voice says.

You nod from behind your screen looking back to Aphelios' icon. "He's right you genuinely sound good". You say encouragingly.

"Yeh and I know a thing or two about singing." Jarro chimes.

"Oh really pretty boy? You wanna show us what you've got?" Aphelios asks chuckling.

"Nah I wouldn't want to overshadow your spotlight"

You snort rolling your eyes. Focusing hard as you take down another enemy turret.

And so began your new friendship circle with the boys, after a successful league game you would start another, then another. Talking and gaming late into the night.

You were breathless from singing along with the others quite horribly to their request. At least Jarro was also terrible but you could tell that he was singing bad on purpose. Aphelios was too busy laughing his mic barely picking up on the noise as he tries to cover his mouth as Jarro continues to sing on.

"DO YOU THINK TIME, WOULD PASS US BY?

'CAUSE YOU KNOW I'D WALK A THOUSAND MILES

IF I COULD SEE YOU TONIGHT BANANANANANANANNAA-" Jarro started to sing the riff in a terrible screech the gain on his mic becoming painful to hear.

Aphelios is practically in tears at this point, his face red from laughing so hard. He covers his mouth with his hand, desperate to hold in his laughter, but it's futile. His shoulders shake from the effort, and his eyes are squeezed shut as he laughs. He is having the time of his life, sharing this moment of laughter with the friends he had quickly grown fond of.

He lets out a gasp, trying to catch his breath between fits of laughter.

"Stop… stop, I… I can't breathe.."

He tries to speak, but he can hardly get the words out through his laughter. His breathing is ragged, but he manages to force out a few more words between giggles.

"You guys are… the worst… singers… I've ever heard.."

Jarro and you let out an obnoxious gasp, mocking offense. "

"Excuse me?! Worst singers?" Jarro exclaims loudly, dramatically placing his hand over his heart.

"I'll have you know we are both phenomenal vocalists." Jarro crosses his arms, lifting his chin up in a fake air of superiority.

Aphelios can't help but laugh harder at Jarros exaggerated reaction. He tries to bite his lip to keep from laughing, but the mirth is too strong and his laughter escapes in a series of short gasps and giggles. He wipes a tear from his eye, his cheeks flushed from the laughter.

"Seriously, you're all terrible… Especially you, Ez…"

He says, shooting an amused grin towards Jarro's avatar.

The days passed and the friendship between you and the boys, Jarro and Aphelios, continued to strengthen with each game. Hours spent gaming, laughing, and creating memories together.

Late-night calls filled with laughter, banter, and the occasional musical performance, became the norm.

Both Jarro and Aphelios found themselves looking forward to the moments they spent gaming with you, considering you a valuable and entertaining member of their gaming circle.

Ez, remains as cheerful and energetic as ever, always ready to make you laugh with his dumb jokes.

Aphelios especially began to open up more and more, sharing bits and pieces of himself with you. You had learned that he was currently stationed in Perth Australia, which surprised you as you yourself were living in Sydney.

Apparently, he and his twin sister were long-term exchange students at one of the local universities...

"Oh cool! What are you studying over there?" You asked your voice sounding enthusiastic.

Aphelios would scratch the back of his neck behind his monitor shyly as he bashfully answered. "Oh, I'm taking the Composition and Music Technology course."

A low whistle picks up from Jarros's mic. "Sheesh Phel I didn't think asian parents let their kids do anything other than be a lawyer or doctor."

Aphelios rolls his eyes at Jarro's comment, scoffing slightly.

"Well, I'm a rare exception to that stereotype I suppose."

He says, a small smile on his lips. Despite his shy exterior, he had a hint of sass when it came to his responses at times.

"My parents are surprisingly supportive of my interests, especially my music. As long as I'm working hard and pursuing something I'm passionate about, they're happy."

Jarro nods along with a chuckle. "Hey don't you live in Aussie too y/n?"

"Yep I'm over a few states though, down in Newcastle."

"Newcastle? Where the hell is that?"

You glare at Jarro's icon. "It's in New South Wales."

"..."

"A few hours above Sydney"

"Ah Sydney! Why didn't you say so!?"

You and Aphelios collectively roll your eyes in unison.

"What about you Jarro? You have an Oceania account so you should be either here or New Zealand?"

Jarro's cheeky chuckle can be heard again in your headset. "Nah I'm over in beautiful Canada."

You can't help but let out a confused sound. "Canada? Sir are you lost? How is your ping not crashing your PC on lol?"

Jarro's chuckle returns, unperturbed. "Well, I figured I'd come over here and show you Aussies how it's really done."

He boasts, his ego as big as ever.

"And let's face it, the competition's just a little easier over here."

He adds, a smirk evident in his voice, and Aphelios rolls his eyes again.

You enjoyed having these online friends, they were almost always available to hang out with after your shifts at the cafe, no matter how exhausting your day was Jarro and Aphelios were always there to help you destress. You were more than grateful for those two.

Aphelios would occasionally share his music projects for his assignments with you on the group server, he was certainly talented at composing pieces. His base work was giving indie, atmospheric, lofi but he would try and experiment with other genres to fit the criteria of the assignment.

"Why don't you try singing over some of these tracks?" You ask after finished listening to another one of his pieces.

Aphelios responds a bit shyly, a hint of self-consciousness in his tone. He's never had much confidence in his singing, even though he loves music.

"I mean… Singing for fun is one thing, but performing in front of a whole class is a lot of pressure. I'm not sure if my voice is good enough for that…"

Jarro chimes in, his tone light and casual, as usual.

"Oh, come on, Phel. Your voice is seriously amazing, you don't give yourself enough credit."

He reassures him, trying to boost his confidence

"You're a talented composer and you've got a killer vocal range. You should definitely try singing for your class, I'm sure they'll love it. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

Aphelios lets out a soft sigh, considering Jarro's words. His friend's confidence is endearing.

"I suppose you have a point… But it's still nerve-wracking, you know? What if they don't like it? Or what if I make a mistake?"

You shake your head, quickly disagreeing with him.

"Come on, you're being too hard on yourself Phel. I've heard you sing before, your voice is beautiful. You could easily charm the whole class with those smooth vocals."

You reassure him, genuinely believing in his talent.

Aphelios smiles at your words, his heart feeling a bit lighter. He was grateful to have friends like you and Jarro who believed in him and encouraged him.

"I don't know… I'm just not used to people hearing my voice outside of you guys, you know? It's kind of intimidating…"

He admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Look you don't even have to sing in front of everyone, you can record from the privacy of your home then when you go to present all you have to do is press the play button"

Aphelios slowly nods his head in agreement, considering your suggestion.

"That… That sounds tempting…It would definitely take away the pressure of performing in front of a live audience… That's not a bad idea, actually. I guess that would still count for the assignment…"

He says thoughtfully, his mind running through the idea. Recording from the comfort of his own home does sound less intimidating than having to perform in front of the entire class.

Jarro chimes in again from the other side, his tone cheerful and encouraging.

"That's the spirit, Phel! Record it at home, give it a few final touches, and then just hit play in class. Easy peasy."

He says, seeming to like your suggestion, too.

This is what friends are for right? Supporting each other and encouraging them to reach their full potential? Aphelios could definitely count on you two for that, behind that little discord profile a small smile appeared on his lips, barely illuminated by the glow of his monitor.

And that's how you convinced your online friend to give singing an actual shot. You and Jarro could only laugh and give knowing "I told you so" looks when Aphelios would return the next gaming session flustered by how well his classmates took his singing. He had become a local star in his university overnight.

"I guess singing in front of the class wasn't as terrifying as I thought. They actually seemed to like it… a lot."

He confesses, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he speaks.

"I don't know what to do, I've never had this much attention before… It's a bit overwhelming…"

Jarro grins, clearly enjoying Aphelios' newfound popularity.

"See, I told you they would love it. You're a natural talent, Phel. It's about time people started noticing."

He says, sounding proud of his friend.

"Don't let it go to your head though, you're still the same shy guy that we know and love".

He teases, chuckling.

You giggle along with him. "Don't forget about us while you're famous."

Aphelios had yet to get use to his immediate rise of popularity, it was as if all of a sudden everyone in the university had him on their radar.Typical mornings of quietly walking to and from classes, hiding under an oversized hoodie had now changed to being stopped by every student in the hall to be greeted.

All of a sudden the quiet invisible introvert was now the center of attention with people wanting his insta, to being invited to hang out during lunch and even a few girls and guys admitting their crushes to him.

It was overwhelming to Aphelios in a positive way, it felt really good to be liked by everyone. He finally felt this surge of confidence boost his social life. He had begun to upload covers and original songs to youtube. While he didn't become viral online, he did gain plenty of likes and views (most of said views came from Jarro and yourself).

It had been a few months since he took that first step out of his comfort zone. However, he still found himself hanging around you and Jarro more than anyone else. You were still the people he trusted the most and the ones he felt the most comfortable around. He didn't need to be "popular" or "cool" around you two. You always had his back.

Jarro, always the supportive friend, was ecstatic for Aphelios as he watched his confidence grow. He often joked about how he was a proud "big brother" watching his "little bro" succeed.

Meanwhile, you were more than happy to see Aphelios blossom in his newfound popularity. You'd often chat with him about classes, school life, and of course, music. The three of you had grown closer, not just online friends but real friends.

It once again was a night where you were all on to game, you had started the call in the group chat and chatted to Jarro about your day while the two of you awaited for Aphelios to join. Classes were over according to this week's schedule which meant he should've joined by now.

"Have you heard anything from Aphelios? He's running late" you say as you type to mention Aphelios in the group chat to get his attention.

Jarro on the other end shakes his head. "Nah he still hasn't responded to my dm."

You frown. "You think something's up?"

"Unlikely, he's only half an hour late. He probably got caught up by another one of his fans~" he says with a chuckle.

Just as Jarro says that the tiny pop up "Aphelios is typing" your immediately notice it your eyes widening as you await his message.

신자의 무기 is typing...

신자의 무기: Sorry guys I'm feeling sick, I've got a cold so I can't really join vc.

As you read his message, a mixture of concern and disappointment washed over you.

Jarro, who was also reading the message, let out a sigh. He had been looking forward to gaming with Aphelios as usual, but it seemed like it wasn't going to happen tonight.

"He can still play right? just not talk?" You ask with a hopeful tone in your voice.

Jarro's icon glows green as his mic picks up him typing your question into chat.

Aphelios replies with a thumbs up.

You knew Aphelios would be unable to chat for a couple of days but it had been over a week since Aphelios had gotten sick, you were starting to worry for him.

Opening your dm's with him you begin to type.

(Y/U/N): Hey Phel, still got the cold?

신자의 무기 is typing...

신자의 무기: Yeh, it's just a sore throat... it won't go away.

You frown while reading this.

(Y/U/N): Have you considered seeing a doctor?

신자의 무기: Actually I have an appointment later this afternoon.

You sigh a little relieved.

(Y/U/N): Ok good

(Y/U/N): Update us when you can k?

Aphelios replies with a cute emote of a cartoon bunny with a thumbs up, making you smile.

(Y/U/N): ight see you later

And so you and Jarro would spend the afternoon gaming while you waited for Aphelios to come back online. You were in the middle of laughing at one of Jarro's jokes when you noticed he's gone quiet.

"Jarro?" You ask, checking if he's there.

"(Y/N) check the group chat."

You had barely noticed the discord notification sound, clicking on your task bar where awaited two messages from Aphelios.

신자의 무기: Guys

신자의 무기: I have some bad news.

A/N: And I finally did it! Chapter 1!! Lets fucking go!!! Original Heartsteel lore!!!!

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Brigitte Bardot (Contempt, And God Created Woman)—unbelievable charisma off the charts, post-war France could barely handle her because she just radiates sexuality in the deepest, hottest way. i've never seen a woman who fit so clearly in my head the "beautiful woman" category. also i'm including her little suit number because why not [pic below]

Sara Montiel (Vera Cruz, Serenade, Run of the Arrow)— She began her career in the 1940s and became the most internationally popular and highest paid star of Spanish cinema in the 1960s. She appeared in nearly fifty films and recorded around 500 songs in five different languages. She always tells how when she met Marlon Brando, she cooked fried eggs for him and he said they were the best eggs he had ever tasted. She confronted Franco himself first by rejecting his invitation to sing at his Christmas party, and then when she went to the barracks to ask that the police let the homosexuals that they had detained be let out. She defended them tooth and nail, and that's why they returned all the love by turning her into the icon of the gay community in Spain.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Brigitte Bardot:

"Los Angeles Times in 2011 ranked her as the second most beautiful woman in film, she won a David di Donatello award and was nominated for a BAFTA. Literally nicknamed a sex kitten, she used her fame to promote animal rights. And God Created Woman was so scandalous to US audiences that some theater managers were arrested for screening it"

"She was a sex symbol and her style is influential even today"

"She's just so iconic! Wikipedia extracts because why not : "In 2011, Los Angeles Times Magazine's list of "50 Most Beautiful Women in Film" ranked her number two" "The Guardian named Bardot "one of the most iconic faces, models, and actors of the 1950s and 1960s" "According to the liner notes of his first (self-titled) album, musician Bob Dylan dedicated the first song he ever wrote to Bardot. " I mean of course she is iconic in France, but she inspired many women outside of France"

"She wasn't just a sex symbol because men found her attractive and then that imagine of her was further promoted. But she was actually one of (if not) the first women to stand for emancipated women in a sexual way in a time when women were considered to mainly exist to please their man. She was famous for portraying women who lived their sexuality for their own pleasure and knew what they wanted. Very important! And also what's hotter than a woman driving men wild because they don't even know how to handle a woman with her own ideas and needs lol"

Sara Montiel:

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I got a good idea, what if the reader became aware that the bsd characters are self aware. So they stop reading and watching it, and playing the game because they think their hurting the characters.(this would happen before the bsd characters got into our world)

I am aware that you are aware

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: You liked BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan game. So many features, so many cards and story up to fourth season. You still baffled, that the game not that popular.

Why others think that your new cards is a fanart? Why people tell, that you can't get multiple SSR tickets from Marble Shining? Why The Internet tell, that game only describes two seasons and part of Dead Apple? And why people can have different nicknames in game, isn't it supposed to be your real name?

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

🐾 You just wanted to show, how lucky your pulls were in current scouts "Casino - Rats in the house of the Dead" and "Casino - Decay of Angels"

🐾 You made a screenshot of 2821 Fyodor D. "Casino", 3711 Pushkin "Casino", 5243 N. Gogol "Casino" and 1638 Sigma "Casino"¹ and post it on BSD Mayoi Subreddit.

🐾 You got comments. Lots of comments, praising the fanart... Or asking, why did you post an April Fools' joke now, not on First of April?

🐾 Fanart? Joke? What do they mean? It wasn't a fanart, it's an official card! You clearly remember doing a daily free 11-scout! And getting them!

🐾 But, a tiny seed of doubt appears in your soul. Was it possible, that so many people didn't get the cards? Or... Didn't see the scout?

______

🐾 Next strange thing happened, when you Shine the Marble for Ranpo. For this week it was a Campaign "10 shines for one click". The Marble Turned prismatic, and you exchange it for SSR Scout Ticket. Well, for a few SSR Tickets. You got lucky again and win "Detective Chance". A familiar phrase appeared in a text box near Ranpo's chibi:

"Great Job, [Y/N]! You deserve a little bonus! Let's collect more cool marbles later!"

🐾 You smiled. It was cute.

🐾 Unfortunately, one of your fellow students saw everything you were doing.

🐾 And they blamed you for playing a hacked game.

🐾 You snarled at them. If they are playing BSD Mayoi and were unlucky with Marble Shining today, it's not your fault. You aren't cheating. Besides, they were looking on your phone screen without your permission. And what if you were texting some private information during that?

🐾 They spat at you, mumbling something about 'there is no marble campaign right now' and 'never they gave you five tickets for a marble'.

🐾 They were rude, yes. They were in the wrong by looking at your phone screen. But... They won't gain too anything by lying. Especially, to you. You also play BSD Mayoi, you could check.

🐾 Could you?

🐾 You didn't notice, that chibi Ranpo opened his eyes. And his look wasn't the friendliest.

🐾 The next day you learned, that yesterday's student got some serious private information leaked. Something about blackmail and stealing other students projects. They will face some trouble.

🐾 ... Quite an interesting coincidence...

_______

🐾 You don't know, what made you do it, but, when your grandma asked you to download an app, that will remind her taking her medication, you decide to look up BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan game in app store.

🐾 Different icon. Not yours. Different screens. And comments...

🐾 Asking, when third season will be added... For more Fyodor cards... For adding Gogol cards... Asking for a Dead Apple Scout rerun... That was up last time almost five years ago.

🐾 This comment was from two days ago. But, Dead Apple Scout was just one month ago! You got Dazai's, Fyodor's and Shibusawa's cards!

🐾 They were wrong! Or... You were wrong...? Or no one was wrong.

🐾 You download necessary apps for your grandma.

🐾 And start thinking.

_______

🐾 You spend two hours in the library, using the university's computer.

🐾 Search information about BSD Mayoi in any language you could think of.

🐾 Online translators might not be the most accurate, but they let you understand the main idea.

🐾 There was no more story in game outside The Dragon Head Conflict. And the situation didn't change for years.

🐾 Aya, Rimbaud, Flags, Adam, Verlaine, Karma, Katai, Oda's orphans, Pushkin, Goncharov, Oguri, Gogol, Sigma, Tetchou, Teruko, Fukuchi, Jounou and Bram didn't have any cards on any server. And Tachihara didn't have a Hunting Dogs version of his card.

🐾 Some Scouts didn't have a rerun for ages.

🐾 Marble Exchange can give you one SSR Ticket for Max Level Marble.

🐾 There were never Junchirou's menu with daily recipes. Or Katai's menu with tips for keeping your phone safe. Or Mori's with fashion tips.

🐾 Devs never gave away SSR Cards as present for Maintenance end.

🐾 Characters never send notes with gifts to Players, thanking them.

🐾 Players could choose any nicknames, not their real names.

🐾 Either you get a special version of an app... Or... Characters were... But, it's impossible, right?

🐾 Were there any way for you to prove it?

______

"I love BSD for using small Easter eggs for people, who liked literature. But, I wish, they would do it more often. For example, real-life Junchirou Tanizaki and Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald were friends! They even play shogi together. And in BSD Tanizaki and Francis are barely interacting with each other."

After you finish talking with your friend, Ango immediately rushed to get the camera, and Junchirou and Francis start to set a scene. Tomorrow you will get a card you want! Card, that reflects their other world counterparts.

[Next Day]

"Oh! SSR card with Fitzgerald and Junchirou playing shogi? And it's called "Old friends"? Good... So Devs knew about that... story..."

Your voice sounded... Off. And Little Light trembled for some reason.

"Story, that I made up two days ago to test my theory. You... All of you can hear me, right?"

BSD Cast feel, like they were struck by lightning. They wanted to make a surprise to you and reveal, that they are self-aware, only when they got into your world.... Well, doesn't matter, they could try to speak to you, now...

Why are you crying? Who have hurt you?

Your voice were pleading. You sobbed.

"I am sorry! I am sorry for not realizing it sooner! I am sorry for every hit you got, when marble hit spikes or poison, or when enemies hit you! I am sorry, for reading about your lives, for learning your secrets without permission! For... Making you relive your lives... And for... Hurting you... Killing you..."

At the end, you were hysterical. You were the reason for Rimbaud's, Flags', Oda's, his kids', Gide's and Shibusawa's death. You were the reason, they got hurt. You howl, remembering that time, Kunikida lost his arms.

"I am sorry! I am sorry! I am so sorry!"

BSD Cast were in distress. You misunderstood the situation! They weren't angry! They liked you and will never hate you!

But with next words their world shatter.

"I... I won't read about your lives anymore. Or watch about it... I... won't play the game anymore... I won't delete it, because I am not sure, if this won't hurt you... I am sorry!"

You close the app.

Little Light fall on a floor, sobbing.

_____

Few days later you got an email from yourself. And from them.

"Dear [Y/N],

Please, listen to us. You didn't hurt us in any way! We aren't angry, we promise! You... Your love and understanding let us through our darkest times. We were lost, confused, we didn't know who we are. But you, you were here. You treat us and our emotions like we were real for you.

Please, open the app... We add chat, we want to talk to you.

BSD cast"

You re-read the letter a few more times. Then again. And again.

After some thinking, you opened the app.

______

You were chatting for a long time. You asked about how they became self-aware, what were happening, when you read new chapters. You asked about deceased ones, whose cards you got (you have never been happier in your life, after learning, that they were alive. Because of you). You asked if they felt pain, when they loose HP in game.

And BSD Gang asked you about your life, your interest, if they can add something else in the app that you need.

And about wanting to get into your world. About wanting to live in reality. And be your friends.

You have a feeling, that it was a beginning of something unique.

______

🐾 You keep your decision about not watching and reading BSD. They weren't characters anymore. They were real people.

🐾 You also stopped cleaning Battle Stages in Mayoi. Instead, you were chatting with the gang.

🐾 Slowly but surely you learned more about each other.

🐾 So, when they finally appeared in your world, you greet them like old friends.

______

¹ Something interesting about numbers:

2821 - "The Gambler" by Dostoevsky was the author's 28th work. And it was written in 21 days, because Dostoevsky lost all money he had by gambling and need money as soon as possible.

3711 - In "The Queen of Spades" by Pushkin the winning combination in the card game were three, seven and ace (considered 11 in some games and in the novel)

5243 - "The Gamblers" play by Gogol was played on stage for the first time in 1843, on 5 of February.

1638 - Year, when the first Casino in Europe was open.

[afyrian]

ch. 5 - november 1 masterlist

   "'how is married life going?' well, chat, it's interesting! i mean not much has changed, taxes were weird that's for sure," you sit in your office chair, one of your legs crossing the other, "but we've always been roommates so nothing different."

  you search the screen, tossing a piece of grass into a lake of lava. minecraft isn't necessarily your best game, rin having only briefly taught you for a stream. however, sometimes, on a calm evening, you like to play a game and interact with your followers. especially when they start getting engaged with both the game and your conversations.

  a new donation pops up on your second screen, the iconic voice reading out 'do you plan on admitting if the marriage is actually real...'. you widen your eyes, watching as the rest of the chat comments on the romance between the two of you. the countless videos, the closeness of the two of you, faking a wedding for a video. it just seemed all too much like coincidence for the people of twitch.

  "no, no, trust me! i do really love rintarō, but the marriage was ultimately for a joke. it was my idea to do it and he was totally up for it. the only part really messing with the both of us was when it was revealed we couldn't get divorced," you shrug, shaking off the idea of legitimately being married to rin.

  it wouldn't be bad, you figured. he was your first kiss (to make your crush jealous at the time), your closest friend, the one person you could binge a five hour youtube video essay with. being legitimately married with rin would be perfect, the only part would be him wanting to be married to. because truthfully you could never imagine him liking you like you like him.

  the comments continue spewing the idea that the two of you just don't want your relationship publicly on the internet. now, of course you'd want to keep most of your relationship personal, but it's hard to ignore the thought of the two of you kissing for a video. "chat, if rin and i were to ever actually date or get married, you'd be like the last to know. so how about we leave it alone and play a little minecraft?"

  you've very rarely had to put everyone in your comments in their place. however, the begging to know about your personal life with your closest friend strikes an annoying chord within you. especially if you don't know if you'd ever want that type of thing with him. but if you ever did, you don't want chat ruining that for you. luckily enough, the rest of your stream went as normally as it typically does. 

  when you take off your headphones, you can feel yourself already gaining some energy back. you love what you do, but sometimes answering all of those questions while concentrating on something else can drain you. so, you do what you always do after an honestly draining day. 

  you make your way into the kitchen and grab a few stacks, tossing them into a bowl and walking into the living room. on the couch sits rintarō who is binging another new show, feet resting on a small ottoman. when he notices you enter the room, he scoots over some to let you on. 

  "how was the stream?"

  "okay? i don't know, i just hate how incessant they can be on stuff they know nothing about. like our 'marriage', which they all assume was real and that's why we aren't divorced. like that's none of their business," you rant, unaware of rin having paused the show to bring his full attention to you.

  like normal, you lay down on the couch, resting your feet on his lap. “well, i could always say something to my subscribers,” rintarō looks over at you, resting on of his hands on the top of your socks. 

  “you would? i don’t want to force that on you, i just feel so frustrated,” you frown, crossing your arms over your chest with just enough of a force to really show your feelings.

  “yeah, absolutely. i mean it sucks that we need to, because we’ve said all that we’ve need to say, but i’m willing to do that for you. for us,” he shrugs, his hand rubbing the top of your feet in a soothing motion.

  the stress leaves your system and you find yourself closing your eyes in relaxation. you open your eyes and peer over at the screen. on it is a new show that you’ve been meaning to watch, rin having just started the first episode. as soon as he sees the look on your face, he starts the show over and rests his cheek onto his fist.

a/n: sorry this took so a bit longer than normal!!

[adoristsposts]

hi i love your writing! could you possibly do justin herbert and reader breaking up but then they rekindle and it’s a happy ending?

author's note; anons treating me so well u guys have better ideas than i do icl summary; alcohol and not being over your ex doesn't exactly mix well- unless, of course, your ex seems just as hung up on you. word count; 1K warnings; drinking, swearing characters; Reader x Justin Herbert

You let a loud sigh escape your lips the second your apartment door shut behind you. You placed a palm on the door, using it for support as you slipped off your heels and let your bare feet sink into the carpeted floor. "Jesus," you muttered to yourself. Without missing a beat, you headed to your fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. You set your purse down on the kitchen island and, wine bottle in hand, padded over to the couch. You turned it on and, of course, your ex-boyfriend's face filled the screen. "It was just a flesh wound." He told the press before you could switch the channels. Your hand paused, hovering over the Netflix icon you had been meaning to press. A flesh wound? You couldn't stop yourself from pulling your phone out and googling it. Three years later you were unable to resist the need to know he was okay. His dismissal of it on television seemed reasonable, you decided as you scrolled through a few articles. But then a few articles became a highlight reel. And then media posts. And then his Instagram. He still followed you from back when the two of you had dated. You remembered his management encouraging him to make the account, and how, despite the fact he didn't run it, he had made sure you were one of the few hundred he followed back.

The split had been amicable. Your post-college heart had been absolutely broken, but Justin was moving to LA and you couldn't handle the distance. The two of you tried keeping in contact for a few months, but the second he was spotted with another woman you shut down. By the time you had sorted out your feelings for him, it felt too embarrassing to reach out. Now, ironically, you were in LA. And you wished you had held on to contact. Because god damn was dating in LA boring. The one you had just returned from had entailed a Chiefs fan mansplaining football to you and complaining about Taylor Swift- all because you had peeked past his shoulder to get a look at the Niners' score. You forced yourself to close your phone. You stood up and walked over to the closest mirror, checking yourself out. You had done your hair and makeup and picked a cute outfit- even worn heels!- just for the guy to be a tool. You smoothed out your shirt. Fuck it, you told yourself. You texted your best friend. Wanna go out? Absolutely, bitch. She replied.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache. How you had gotten home, or what exactly had happened the night before, you had no idea. You groaned loudly and leaned over to grab your phone off the nightstand. The notifications that greeted you were so mortifying you were sure you were going to puke. Seven missed calls from Justin, three voicemails, and five text messages. There was no chance in hell you were looking at any of those. You took an everything shower, blew out your hair, painted your nails, and made yourself food. Who knew that your ex-boyfriend could be so helpful when it came to working through a hangover? Finally, hours later, you had to check. The time without your phone- although you hated to admit it- was driving you crazy. You could only sit through so much without wanting to check it. And you were sure your best friend had to be worried you had choked on your own vomit at this point.

You responded to her texts first, with a simple 'I think I drunk called Justin.' You ignored her frantic texts and clicked on his first voicemail. "Hey." His voice sent shivers down your spine. There was something so homely about the way he sounded. Like hearing an old favorite song. "I think you drunk called me. My hand's fine, thanks for asking. Just a sprain, it'll be fine by the end of our by week. " Ever polite. When Justin first stepped into the spotlight, so many people questioned his personality and whether he would be fit to lead a team as their quarterback. He had never cared. He always dismissed it with a quiet wave. He was how he was, and you had loved him for it. The voicemail cut out there, and you played the next one. "Sorry," He began, because what else would he start out with? "I can't stop listening to what you sent me. I know you're drunk, but you said you haven't gotten over it- just in case you don't remember in the morning- and I haven't either. Just thought you should know." A click. You cringed. You truthfully didn't remember a moment of it. You understood now how the prohibition had happened. The last one. "Ok, I swear this is it." He laughed. The sound was like stepping under a warm ray of sun on a cold day. "I miss you. Text me when you wake up- I'm sorry for blowing up your phone. You said you were in LA? We should reconnect."

You put your phone face down and ran a hand over your face. Reconnect. With your ex-boyfriend. That you still weren't over. You texted your best friend. She responded with a bunch of messages that all had the same point; 'absolutely, you dumbass, you are still so in love with him and i'm sick of hearing about it.'

You swiped out of her messages and opened Justin's, which were full of concerned texts and him asking for you to text him when you got home to ensure you were safe. You bit your lip to try and control your smile. I'm free anytime this week. Coffee?

[gartenofbanny]

WARNING: DIRTY-ISH IMAGES IN THIS BLOG

Guys, I have a confession to make. I believe Sallie May is one of the most overrated characters in Helluva Boss.

I don’t believe she’s overrated simply because she’s trans. It’s just for a different reason that I will explain shortly, but first who is this character I'm talking about?

Who is Sallie May?

Sallie May is Millie’s sister who debuted in Hell of a Boss Episode Five, the Harvest Moon Festival. After some time after the release of the episode she was pretty popular among the Hell of a Boss fandom

So what're my thoughts about her overall? Well, Sallie May is a character, that's pretty much it. I don't have any opinions on her as a character because she isn’t fleshed out. She is Millie's sister who is transgender, that's really what Sallie May is. She looks pretty, but Sallie May doesn't have any standalone character similar to Octavia and Millie.

So that's how I feel about Sallie May, she's overall just a side character. It's cool that they added her to the show, but that's all.

Now that, that's out of the way I'm going to talk about..how Vivziepop and the other creators used her and why I don’t like it. This is going to be pretty controversial for me to discuss so don’t pull out your pitchforks yet.

How Vivziepop and the other creators used her

What I don't like upon Harvest Moon Festival’s release is that a lot of people, including me were not aware that Sallie May was transgender and there was very little indication of that. The only thing that points out that Sallie May is trans is her horns.

As people know, Male imps and Female imps have different patterns for their horns. However, that information is not shared within Helluva Boss.

It requires outside research like in the wikis, Livestreams, or people telling you in order to make sense.

Upon first watching Harvest Moon Festival, I had no idea that Sallie May was transgender until a Reddit post basically told me that she was.

If you're going to have a character with a certain gender identity, establish it within the series. It could've been something simple like a pin of the transgender flag or a button that has the colors of the transgender flag.

The writers of Amphibia did it with Sasha where Sasha had a bisexual heart sticker on her rearview mirror. It doesn't have to be something big, but it can be small and easily noticeable.

I don’t get how people consider Sallie May to be a trans icon when lots of people didn’t even know she was trans in the first place.

Why I believe she's overrated and why she's loved within the Fandom

Now the real question is why do I believe she’s overhyped? Well, simply put it she does not have much screen time overall. Sallie May has around 13 to at most 20 seconds of screentime and Harvest Moon Festival is 17 minutes and 30 seconds long excluding the credits.

Sallie May doesn't make an appearance later on in the episode despite the fact that Millie and Sallie's mom, Lin said that Sallie May would compete in the Pain Games. Not once is Sallie May shown in the Pain Games.

Sallie May also doesn't appear later on in the episode. Viv and Brandon just include her in those couple of seconds and decided "That's all she gets".

But why is Sallie May overrated as a character? Well, it's simple, merchandise.

Despite being a side character, Sallie May is present in a lot of merch. In the Valentine’s and Summer merch sales for Hell of a Boss, Sallie May is highly sexualized.

Sallie May hasn't gone through the transition surgery, which is fine, but the merch puts A LOT of emphasis on that.

What I mean is that…her bulge is showing.

Sallie May's swimsuit and Valentine’s merchandise are clear examples of this, they just let Sallie May’s thing bulge out with no care in the world. Why is it that Sallie May’s bulge is exposing itself in nearly all of her raunchy merch, but none of the characters who identify as males (except for Chaz) are not?

Conclusion

In conclusion, I believe Sallie May is really overhyped because she’s sexualized as hell. I get that people like her because she’s trans and that we have a trans character in Helluva Boss, but then again there are also two other characters in this show that are trans.

And one character in Harvest Moon Festival that is also trans

At least that’s what the horns and hair color imply, but I don’t see the fandom falling head over hills for these two characters.

The trans rep in Helluva Boss sucks, Sallie May has more screen time as merchandise than she does as an actual character. Let that sink in.

I am not transphobic, just stating the truth. Thank you all for reading and I hope you all have a nice day!

(This is basically the transcript version of a video I made not too long ago)

[the-irken-luxray]

More doodles of the meta voice/fail text. Torn between keeping coming up with an actually unique design for them and keeping them as a generic stick figure ghost but no mouth. Except I've been struggling with coming up with an actual design for them.

I like the latter option because it's almost... symbolic? Iconic, but also generic; emotive and witty yet unable to be seen or heard by anyone... But that's a ramble for another day.

IDs under the cut

ID: A variety of doodles of a fan-made personification of The Henry Stickmin Collection's fail text, drawn in light blue (except in one case, where they are drawn in black for easier visibility). The persona is a mouthless but otherwise generic stick figure that is free floating, as though they are a ghost or phantom. All images have a watermark for the-irken-luxray.

ID 1:

The fail screen for the wormhole rifle option from Stealing the Diamond, which reads:

"I'm surprised you weren't able to get down there with that amazing portal technology. It's pretty strange how those portal guns work. I mean it combines the top scientific processes of our time. The portal gun contains a flux quantum generator which propels energy blasts with energy volumes of 4.23 GW with an average speed of 25 m/s. this speed is most effective because it allows the energy to be conserved while still maintaining a speed that is appropriate. The external plastic coating on the portal gun is constructed of a high polymer fireproof carbon fiber. This prevents the intense energy of the portal gun from burning the hands of the user. The intense energy causes intense heat. Oh by the way if you want an achievement click here. I've heard that scientists still do not know what happens if two portals are placed on top of one another. The last time that was attempted... Well I'm sure you heard about it on the news."

Five doodles of the fail text persona surround the screenshot, meant to be the fail text at various points in time. The top left holds a hand to its chin; the top right holds up a finger with their eyes closed, as though explaining the complex topic presented in the screenshot; the mid-left lays on their stomach while kicking their legs, as though excitedly rambling the info presented in the screenshot; the mid-bottom points to the word "here" in the screenshot; and the bottom right has their eyes closed while waving a hand dismissively in the other direction.

To the right of the screenshot and five doodles is a motion-blurred sketch of Henry Stickmin (drawn in black, to distinguish him as being physically present). A speech bubble pointing to Henry contains the Bugs Bunny "For the love of god please help me" meme.

ID 2:

A fail screen for one of the timeout options in Infiltrating the Airship, showing a closed metal door. The fail text reads: "Ok, ok! No more quick time events!" and, in smaller text, "How's your head by the way?"

Two doodles of the personified fail text overlay the drawing (drawn in black instead of blue for better visibility). The first is wiping away a tear and holding their other hand to their stomach as though they were laughing hard, and the second one shows mild concern for Henry (who is unseen).

ID 3:

A screenshot from Infiltrating the Airship with Henry glaring at the camera while holding the teleporter. A doodle of the fail text persona holds out a thumbs up. Text with an arrow pointing to the doodle reads "knows there's like an 80% chance of some shit going wrong".

ID 4:

A fail screen for the G.A.B.E.N. option from Infiltrating the Airship, which reads:

"error: stack overflow

"System.IO.FileNotFoundException:

"Could not find file C:\Program Files\HL3\G.A.B.E.N..dll

"Dump cache;"

Next to the screenshot is the fail text persona, but with smaller, circular eyes that are filled with television static. The stick figure is glitched in multiple places and has a chromatic aberration/"3D glasses" effect.

ID 5:

The fail screen for the Dark Energy Bomb option in Infiltrating the Airship, which has no fail text. Two doodles of the mouthless stick figure are to the left. The first holds up a hand with a bent finger, looking distraught. The second lowers its hand while looking away, looking sympathetic as well as distraught.

Text below reads "(was going to make a joke but a 10yo's dad just fucking died)"

ID 6:

Three miscellaneous doodles of the fail text persona. The left has its hand below its chin in a thinking expression. The middle has its eyes closed and is shrugging. The right is looking downward and pointing at something beneath them.

End ID.

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - seventy-eight | misc

HOW were you supposed to know that the person who edited your videos was a streamer? And one who had a lot of fans?

You’d never watched a video game stream before, you were normally busy working on some mashup or another so you thought they were a waste of time. Maybe you could watch one of y/n’s, just to see what the hullabaloo was about?

You navigated to her page and, as it turned out, she was currently streaming. You clicked on the stream, not really knowing what to expect. A prompt told you that you had to make an account if you wanted to use the chat, so you opened another window and did so.

You refreshed the stream page and now it showed that you could use the chat and had a name: NEROmusic

“Alright ladies, germs, and Other.”

You had no idea who anyone was. You looked at the grid of people on the screen, some showing their faces and others just represented as their user icons. Oh, the frame around their icon lit up green when they said something. This was… MickTheMacken talking. Okay, you were getting the hang of this.

“Am I a ‘germ’ or ‘Other’?” MorningStar asked. MorningStar sounded like San, so you figured that was him.

“You can be Miscellaneous, if you like.”

“I want to be ‘Misc’,” Jageun Gomen Goyangi said, the frame lighting up. You knew who she was now, so you knew it was y/n. It was still funny to you to think about how you were working together all this time, and yet didn’t know you were working with a - by what you saw - kind of famous streamer, all because it was never something you would ask.

“‘Misc’?” Mick asked.

“‘Misc.’” She repeated.

“I adore it. I am enraptured.”

“You’d better be. I worked for all of five seconds on it.”

“Forceful.” Mick looked into the camera flirtatiously. 

The rim around BrickTheBracken’s screen lit up. “Stop stealing my man.”

“Ummm, excuse me? I don’t need to steal a man? I already have one?”

“Mhm.” San said emphatically.

“I desire not your man!” Y/n yelled. “Make haste, wench! Say your piece.”

Mick laughed. “Are you all watching my stream?”

Ryujin lit up. “I’m sniping so hard right now.”

“We’re all cheating crazy hard.” Keeho said-- wait, that was the idol from JUPiTER you had met! Keeho was a streamer? No wait, you had seen that video thumbnail where he was laughing or something… what a small world. Absolutely tiny.

“GOOD.” Mick continued. “Anyway, for the people out there in Radio Land: welcome to our third annual… what did we call it last time?”

“I don’t remember.” Yeji said.

“‘Secret Non-Santa’?” Ryujin guessed.

“With Cat here? We’d never come up with something so obvious. It has to be obtuse.” Keeho added.

“Secret Satan.” Y/n said.

“Round Robin Russian Roulette.”

“Hell.”

Mick laughed. “ANYgay, we’re doing That Fucking Thing We Do when we all find the worst games we can possibly find, throw them into the hat,” he lifted up a tophat, “and we each pick a shitty game and play it for the rest of us to yell at.”

“And everyone watching gives us money for charity!” Yeji said quickly.

“Yes, sorry Yeji, I’m always so preoccupied with our suffering that I forget we’re also trying to make other people’s lives better.”

“You’re welcome,” Yeji said pleasantly.

“How are you picking which of us are going?” San asked.

“Bracken made a wheel.”

“Oh?”

BrickTheBracken appeared in the frame as he wheeled a small game show-style wheel into view behind Mick and presented it to the viewers like a beautiful game show lady.

“Our beautiful Bracken,” Yeji said.

“Wowwww, we’re really coming up in the world.” Y/n said.

“We’re bougie.” Keeho added.

“Mhm.”

“Okay, take your seats, start your engines, keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, because here we go!” Mick spun the wheel. “Cat!”

“Ahhhhhhhh shit.”

Everyone laughed. You laughed too.

Keeho laughed. “Couldn’t’ve happened to a worse person.”

“Keeho, I would like to be the first, to wish you a very Die.”

“Seven years of friendship and this is how she treats me?” Keeho pretended to cry.

“I’m calling your mother.”

Everyone laughed again.

“And to pick the game of our very aggressive contestant--” Mack fished around in the hat for a slip of paper “--Scary Granny! Please click link number five.”

There was a pause as - you guessed - y/n clicked the link and it opened. “...Oh god.”

Mick laughed as he read the description. “Look for evidence against granny in this dark and eeeevil game!”

“Is the game evil or is the granny?”

“I think it’s the game.”

“Before I play this, I would like to try and argue against it.” Y/n said.

“I won’t allow it, but go ahead.” Mack replied.

“I should not have to play this for two reasons: the first being that: …I’m hot. And the second being that: I hate this.”

“I’ve never seen you so I can’t account for the first one, and we all hate this but we do it for the yucks so: start the game, Cat.”

“I’ve seen her, I can vouch for her hotness,” San said.

“But we’ve never seen you either, so how do we know you know what you’re talking about?” Ryujin asked.

“Uhhhh…”

“Morn is hot,” y/n came to his defense.

“But you see how that still means nothing?”

“Circular hotness,” Ryujin said.

You chuckled.

“Keeho can solve this,” Braken started. “You’ve seen Cat, is she hot?”

Keeho’s eyes widened in the kind of shock someone’s face has when someone asks if their sibling is hot. “Um, I don’t want the ‘Keeho and Cat are dating’ rumors to start again so I’ll unfortunately have to decline.”

“You traitor!” Cat yelled. “Coward!”

You couldn’t tell if she was fake mad or actually mad. Everyone laughed, regardless.

“Cat, start the game,” Mick commanded.

She sighed loudly and the game replaced her icon on her screen. In a few seconds, hers was made the main screen so the viewers could watch.

“Oh my god,” y/n said, as the game loaded.

You hadn’t played any video games in your childhood on account of it not being allowed, but you could easily tell that the opening screen… what’s it called?

“The home screen looks like shit…” y/n devolved into rueful laughter.

Ah, yes: the home screen.

“This looks like a PS1 game threw up on itself. Do I really have to play this?”

“Yes, Cat. This is for charity. You have to do the thing.”

“Just tell me if all the games are this bad.”

“They are.”

“Fine.”

You chuckled to yourself.

She started the game and groaned. 

You may not have played a video game ever, but you’d seen ads for them before and this one looked like the most unfinished, garbage things you’d ever seen. It was ugly, and all the controls looked bigger than they needed to be.

You must steal from the old woman! was the text that came up on the screen.

“So I’m a burglar?” She asked.

The group laughed.

“Girl help, I’m knocking over an old woman.”

She started running around the level attempting to complete any of the missions the game gave her, but was having a hard time. The granny meant to chase the player got stuck in a wall, got stuck in the middle of the room for a bit, got stuck in the ceiling, and when she fell through the floor and then rapidly went flying vertically through the room a dozen times before shooting off into the stratosphere, Cat went silent.

She sighed. “God damnit.”

Goddamnit it, indeed.

“You have to make it funny, Cat,” Mick said.

She sighed and seemed to think for a moment as the old lady killed her and the level started over.

“You know those scam marriages where people get married to try and become an immigrant in another country?”

Mick laughed a little, seeming to know that this question was leading him. “Yeah.”

“Who are you really scamming if you scam marry someone to move to a place?”

“The government.” Yeji answered.

“You say that like no government has ever scammed its people, ever.”

“...That’s true.”

“I just think that the idea of a marriage being a scam because it doesn’t involve love totally negates asexual and aromantic people. You don’t need to be in romantic love to be married.”

“What about people who might be friends who want to get married for the benefits?” Ryujin chuckled.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that every straight married couple on the planet loves or even just likes each other? My parents might still be awesomely in love, but I had friends with shitty parents so I KNOW that’s not true. And just look at all of the ‘I hate my spouse’ memes that boomers share; why would they share them if they actually love their spouse?”

“Oh my god.” Keeho said.

“How are you so smart, Cat?” Bracken asked, half-joking.

“I’m just really cute and sexy and good at thinking.”

San chuckled. “So humble too.”

“Mhm…” Granny got stuck again and she restarted the level. “But back to my point, not every marriage is a loving or even a liking one and those people should just get divorced, so the whole point of a marriage - supposing to be about two people who love each other who want to stay together forever - doesn’t make sense anyway.”

The granny killed her again and the level started over. She sighed.

“What about the argument that it’s to have kids?” Keeho asked.

“What about hetero couples who can’t get pregnant? What about couples who adopt, whether they’re gay or straight? Or women and men who are past the child bearing age? Should they get divorced then?”

Mick sighed. “Cat, I said make it funny, not get on a soapbox--” 

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” San observed.

“Only about five minutes. But my brain is very big and sexy and--”

“Don’t say it.” Keeho said.

“Wrinkly.”

“Ew.”

“So it was easy.”

Mick laughed as Keeho continued to make a disgusted face. 

“How do you propose we treat marriage instead?” Mick asked, trying to find the punchline.

“A business venture. And I don’t mean that in like a right wing, small government, libertarian-because-I’ve-never-left-my-small-town-or-even-encountered-a-woman way. I mean that, pre-feudalism, most families produced some sort of good with both members of the marriage contributing to the creation of that product or products, and either one or both participated in the selling of said products: I think that we should just treat marriages as long term business ventures.”

“I’m… I feel like that makes sense? But I’m not sure?” Yeji said, a little confused.

“And we should treat kids like ponzi schemes.”

Keeho sighed. “And there’s the joke.”

You laughed loudly with the group.

“Was that WHOLE FUCKING THING, just for that joke?” He yelled.

“No, I thought of the joke right at the end.”

She cleared the level but somehow the granny killed her despite the game having gone to the ‘Level Over’ screen.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She yelled.

Everyone laughed.

The level started over, but this time, none of the buttons were anywhere to be seen.

“Um… there’s no controls.”

“What?” San asked.

“There’s no controls. I’m moving the mouse and nothing’s happening.”

“What? How?” Keeho asked.

“I have no idea… I think I’m done, guys. Oh my god I can’t even exit the game.” She laughed. “I have to close the program, hold on.”

You decided to comment in the chat.

NEROmusic: Nice job, Cat

“Hey! The person who made my intro is here! Everyone go check out NEROmusic! They make awesome mashups and they’re so so so good.”

“She’s in your chat?” San asked.

“Mhm. She just said ‘good job’. I’m not sure if she’s being sarcastic or not.”

NEROmusic: I’m being serious. That game looked like shit lol

“It was shit, NERO, thank you for commiserating.”

The group went to the next game: Ryujin had to play something called Papa Simulator and had to try to take care of children while making a pizza. Somehow, everything ended up on fire.

Your phone buzzed.

  previous | main cast | masterlist | next

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵

@luvvvx • @iamthehotdemon • @hrts4hanniehae • @rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy •

[lumiolivier]

Dial M for Matsuda

Day 13 of 31 of Kinktober

Prompt: Phone sex

Word Count: 1073

Matsuda gets a special phone call at the office.

Matsuda always knew he was the low man on the food chain in the office.  He knew he wasn’t as clever as Light, as brave as Aizawa and Mogi, as strong of a leader as Soichiro.  He couldn’t even think about doing the kinds of things Wedy and Aiber could do like they were second nature.   He had his days where he didn’t even know why he was there in the first place.  And those days were becoming more and more frequent.  But one didn’t think like that.  And nothing put Matsuda down quite like that someone being out of the office.

Things were quiet at task force headquarters.  Aizawa and Mogi were out doing the legwork while Light, Soichiro, and Matsuda were left behind to watch the monitors, keep an eye out for their suspects, do what Aizawa and Mogi couldn’t.  And it was more Aizawa than Mogi.  Mogi was busy tending to whatever Misa needed that day.  Matsuda couldn’t even do that right.  All he was good for was busy work.  And he knew Light and Soichiro both wouldn’t hesitate to give him busy work.  Lunch runs, coffee runs, anything that would’ve been set aside for the interns.  And it was starting to get Matsuda down.

Ring, ring!

“Matsuda,” Light groaned.  If he closed his eyes, Matsuda could almost hear it coming out of L, “Shut your phone up.”

“Sorry,” Matsuda grabbed his phone off the desk.  Unknown.  He hit the green icon on the screen, “Hello?”

“Go into the conference room.”

Matsuda held his phone away for a moment, “Hey, I need to take this.”

“Go ahead, Matsuda,” Soichiro allowed, “We have things handled here.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Matsuda went straight to the conference room and shut the door.  And the curtains, “What are you doing calling me?”

“What?  I can’t miss you?”

“Yeah,” Matsuda felt the heat rush to his cheeks, “But…I don’t know.  Something about this seems…wrong.”

“It’s not wrong, Touta.  We’ve been over this.”

“I know,” Matsuda bit his lip, “Maybe wrong wasn’t the word for it.”

“Was it…Naughty?”

“Yeah,” Matsuda chuckled to himself, “A little.  I mean, I get it.  You’re not here, but…What did you need me to go to the conference room for?  And isn’t it, like, five o’clock in the morning in London right now?”

“It sure is.  I just woke up.  You ask too many questions, darling.”

“What did you need me in the conference room for?” Matsuda asked again.

“What are you wearing right now?”

“Um…” Matsuda glanced down at himself, not even remembering what he put on that morning, “A suit?”

“One of the ones I got for you?”

“Actually,” Matsuda smiled a bit, “Yeah.  I know.  It’s kind of lame, but…”

“It’s alright.  I see I’m not the only one who misses you.”

“I do,” Matsuda let out a little sigh, “I could hardly sleep last night without you.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.  It’s only for a couple days.  I promise.  Then, you know what we could do?”

“What?” Matsuda could feel his heartrate steadily climb.

“Well…Do you think I’d be able to fit under your desk?”

“I don’t know,” Matsuda glanced out at the main room where Light and Soichiro were still hard at work, “Might be a little distracting, don’t you think?”

“Wouldn’t that be the point?”

“People would see you under my desk,” Matsuda laughed, “And they’d all wonder what you were doing down there.”

“And I don’t care what they’d think.  I know what I’d be doing down there.  I’d be undoing your belt buckle with my teeth and sucking your cock like a straw.”

Matsuda almost instantly hardened up.  He could feel himself scraping his zipper, “And…What, what else?”

“You know that little thing I do with my tongue you like?”

“Mmhmm…” Matsuda started undoing his belt buckle.

“I’d make sure I had a mouthful of peppermint tea, just for you.  The dual sensation of warm and cold on your dick…You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Touta?”

“Uh-huh,” Matsuda couldn’t unbutton his pants fast enough.

“And then, when you were all done and all spent like the good little boy you are for me, I’d wrap my legs around you and sit in your lap in that pretty floral skirt you like me in.  You know the one, right?”

“Yeah…” Matsuda’s arm was already elbow deep in his pants while he kept stroking himself.  Faster…Faster…

“You want me to be a good little slut for you, don’t you, Touta?”

“Yes…”

“You like when I get all naughty for you?”

“Yes…!”

“You can’t wait for me to get home, so I can smack you around some more, can you?”

“YES!” Matsuda fell back in his chair, completely and utterly spent.

“Touta?  Are you alright, darling?”

“Yeah,” Matsuda did his best to catch his breath, “Thank you.  I needed that.”

“You’re very welcome.  Now, if you can, go back to work.  It’s only another couple days.  I know you can hold out for me until then.”

“Uh-huh…” I’m not sure how well I can hold out, but I can try.

“Very good.” The other end went quiet for a moment or two, “I’m proud of you, Touta.  I know you think you don’t belong in there, but you do.  Just as well as anyone else.  Now, go on.  Go make me proud.”

“I will…” Matsuda smiled.  I miss you.

“And be sure to clean yourself up first.  That suit was expensive.”

“Sorry,” Matsuda giggled, “I’m guessing you heard.”

“Of course, I did.  You think I don’t know when you’re jerking off while we’re on the phone?  Why else would I have called you so early?”

“Or in the middle of the afternoon,” Matsuda clarified, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work before my boss gets mad at me.”

“I’m sure he could never be mad at a cute little face like yours…”

“I love you…”

“I love you, too.”

Click.

Matsuda managed to pull himself together and go back out to the main room.  He kept his fingers crossed, hoping no one noticed his sudden elation.  But Soichiro’s curiosity got the better of him, “What was that all about, Matsuda?”

“What?” Matsuda was still lost in fantasy, in his cloud of pure pleasure.

“The phone call,” Light clarified, “Who was it?”

“Oh,” Matsuda got his head back in the game, “It was just L.  Asking about how the investigation was going.”

It’s great…It’s just…awesome.

[lady-of-the-puddle]

Welcome Back

Today I will be rating Beck's

Potential Partners?

The question mark is because some of them were definitely his partners, others will not admit it, and some came to...circumstances preventing a declaration of their love...anyway.

1. Bodhi

Literally on screen for 30 seconds max

We all clocked that shit instantly

Never brought him up again (thx to retroactive backstory oops)

Beck was actually visibly sad about him tho to the point his boss/dad had to ask if he was ok

Absolute cute couple though

8/10 I knew him for five seconds and now I have to kill everyone in this room and then myself

2. Paige

Y'all already know. Everyone knows. The whole grid knows.

The sexual tension is palpable

Which brings me to some difficult questions about the nature of programs and what physical functions they may or may not have.

Ugh I'm a sucker for the rivals to lovers thing tho

12/10 top ten hottest bi power couple if they don't kill each other first

3. Tron

I went over this in my tron's exes list but I must reiterate cause reasons

Can you imagine meeting your hero, your icon, your savior and he's....a bit of a bitch??

But you learn and get to know him and he opens up to you and comes to trust you with his life UGH my heart

9/10 I rated this 7/10 before but I'm not scared anymore they're GOOD

4. Cyrus

Look, he gets in with his bffs and the first thing they say to Beck is "you didn't tell us you had a new bf!" (Totally NOT paraphrasing that).

The fucked up stalker/victim pairing is SUCH good tea

And then he tries to kill him later? Delicious.

7/10 this one's for the toxicity 😏

5. Lux (I had to look up her name)

okay this one loses points because they WANTED me to ship this when we already knew Paige existed

I don't like to be told what to do

I mean, it's ok Beck has two hands(more like eight at this point) I can work with it

loved her jaded perspective turning into hope before she was fridged for male pai- I mean derezzed for reasons relevant to the plot 👀 that was definitely neat

Consider: she is pretty though

4/10 they're both a ten but I'm a bitter bitch so sue me

6. Mara

tbh she's such a cutie and deserves way better than whatever incel shit Zed has going on

no wonder she's in love with Tron/the Renegade (I mean, same) I would beg a superhero to save me from him too

she and Beck have such a good dynamic

would be such a cute friends to lovers pair

can you imagine if she found out her bestie was the renegade she's been visibly/audibly thirsting after? Queen shit.

8/10 This one is actually the least toxic here

7. The rebellion leader whose name escapes me (it's Bartik)

so this guy appears in legacy as the rebel leader at Castor's before getting derezzed five minutes later (shocker there)

this one just kinda leaped into my brain when I binged the show directly after watching Legacy

can you imagine inspiring someone to change sides completely and then become the leader of the very fire you sparked long after you're probably gone? Endlessly romantic.

6/10 I have yet to have a really bad ship tbh

8. Pavel

I hate it, you hate it, we all hate it

But it's still pretty hot

8/10 bitch on bitch violence

9. Zed

Ahaha I hate it

he's way too comfortable with the evil bad guy shit happening around him.

honestly I have no idea why Beck is even friends with him

HOWEVER

jock/loser pairing

Beck CAN AND WILL fix him

3/10 I don't think we can save this one boys

BONUS ROUND:

10. Tesler

LMAO I just thought of this

Why do I love it tho

Something about the Darkseid omega beam hands that make me think weird thoughts

Now I wish I had put this on my tron list

1/10 or 9/10 depending on the day

I really do love that Beck is just the most specialest boy, he's the grid's next top model, he's batman, he's everything. Istg this is a harem anime in disguise and I ship him with everyone.

I can think of at least two programs off the top of my head that I didn't include because I forgot until now, so tell me about your rare pairs, etc. I was thinking about rating Clu's crushes that he handles in a completely normal way next but that might be too much. This is what happens when we have no new content for 10 years.