#and it makes me want to cry because like. i want to play it so much.

[no-144444]

playing favourites- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

part one | part two | part three | part four |

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It wasn’t exactly your plan to have a DNF on your first race but, thus the joys of a backmarker team. Zak had promised you, sworn even, that McLaren would be up there, fighting with Ferrari and RedBull. He’d told you that leaving RedBull would be worth it. Now, you were getting beaten by a fucking VCarb, the seat you could’ve had. You stalked over to Oscar once you got out of the car. 

“Care to fucking explain?” you scoffed. He looked at you, unimpressed. 

“It was an error with the steering wheel,” he shrugged. “Nothing you, or I, could’ve done.”

You sighed. “Of course not. Nothing anyone could’ve done, do you think the media will take that? Do you think this won’t mark my fucking career?! Oscar I need you to understand-” 

“Stop shouting at him, it wasn’t his fault,” Zak demanded. 

“Exactly, it’s yours. Make your car drivable,” you said before walking away. 

It was your reputation on the line, your career, your life. You’d worked to be in Formula One your entire life, you were the first woman in years. You didn’t have the option of  ‘just having a bad race’. You had to impress every single time, or else you’d be ridiculed. You knew what you’d see online tonight. You knew what people would say. You knew what questions you’d get from reporters. You knew it all. You’d done the song and dance a million times before, and you weren’t interested in doing it again. 

“SO, WHAT HAPPENED?” “YOUR FANS ARE DEMANDING ANSWERS?” “WAS THIS AN ACTUAL FAILURE OF THE CAR, OR JUST THE DRIVER?” “WHAT DID YOU SAY TO YOUR RACE ENGINEER AFTER?” “DO YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR RACE?” “WHAT DO YOU SAY ABOUT PEOPLE’S OPINIONS ON YOUR DRIVING AFTER TODAY?” “SHOULD YOU HAVE STAYED AT REDBULL?” 

“ARE YOU EVEN A GOOD DRIVER?”

Walking out of the media pen, you had your head hung low and a blank expression. Every single reporter wanted to talk to you. Every question was more and more degrading, and you just felt empty by the end of it. Megan, your press officer, left you in the hallway of the motorhome and you leant against it and sighed. 

You couldn’t keep doing this. 

In recent months you’d been questioning whether or not any of this was worth it. Every single weekend of your career had been a step towards gender equality, you were the poster-girl for being a good driver, but it was always just not enough. You’d left RedBull because of it. You realised they’d never give you a seat and just continue to use you as a diversity hire. It hurt though, that had been your home for years. You’d always been a RedBull driver, since you were in karting. The whole lead up to your first race was months and months of questions, everyone wondering if you could finally show everyone that women deserved seats in F1. 

And you’d just fucked it up. 

You hadn’t even noticed that you’d started crying until you felt them on your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away, but it wasn’t quick enough to fool Oscar. He frowned as he looked at you, walking towards you. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t fucking pity me,” you scoffed. “Come on, we have to debrief,” you said, walking into the boardroom. 

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“Oscar, when am I pitting?” you shouted, hoping he would finally fucking answer you. 

“I’m not sure yet, give me a moment Y/n-”

“Y’know it’s really fucking impressive how we finally get in the points and now I’m getting fucking undercut because you’re not fucking ready Oscar, this is ridiculous!” you shouted. 

“Pitting next lap,” he said, neutral. It pissed you off how level-headed he was. 

“Fuck off,” you muttered. You pitted next lap. You finished the race in P11. 

Shit. 

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“Fuck!” you shouted at Oscar, getting out of the car. “This is such fucking bullshit.”

“Y/n-” he started.

“Just fuck off,’ you sighed, pushing his hand off your arm. “That would’ve been our best finish! P5?! And then Lando turns into me?!” 

He nodded. “Calm down,” he soothed. Your mood turned. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you ripped your arm back. 

Lando DNFed. You DNFed. Shit. 

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P15, another failure. At least you’d gotten higher than Lando, stuck down in P17. 5 races in and 0 points between the two of you? Fucking hell. You’d never scored so badly in your life. You walked over to the barrier, finding Oscar standing there. 

“Sorry,” you sighed. “We’re so fucking slow.”

He nodded. “We’ll keep working.” 

You nodded, but you felt that same nausea twisting your gut. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, somehow sensing it all. You shook your head. 

He stared at you a second longer, then took your answer, despite the way he sensed your lie. 

You two didn’t get along. He understood that. It didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of your insane diet and work out regimen. He was completely aware of the way you blame yourself despite the car being the only issue. He watched you work yourself to the bone. He almost wished you would be a bit more arrogant, like Lando, he wished it fell off your shoulders as easily as it did his. 

He couldn’t stand the media. The narrative they were pushing about you was ridiculous. You’d won every junior series, you’d waited your turn in RedBull, only to get kicked to the curb, you were good enough, but something told him you were starting to believe otherwise.

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“So what’s the issue?” Zak sighed, pacing the garage, starting one of his famous pep talks. 

“Y/n,” a voice from the back muttered and everyone's heads snapped to you. It had been one of the mechanics who had preferred Carlos, but you just shrugged. A few chuckles were heard, one of them coming from Lando himself, and you just continued what you were doing, staring off into space. 

“It’s the car we built,” Zak answered his own question, trying to do damage control. 

“She’s not exactly Hamilton,” Lando said, a little bit too loud, as he joked with his engineer. 

“She’s consistently placed in front of you in the same car,” Oscar pointed out, his voice neutral. “The only reason she DNFed in Saudi Arabia was because you turned into her. Also, you haven’t gotten any points.”

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He chuckled, making the garage laugh. You rolled your eyes, getting up and walking off. “Is she fucking PMSing?” 

Oscar’s blood boiled at the way his co-workers laughed at that, at you. You didn’t deserve this shit from Lando, from anyone. Oscar went after you. He stopped right outside your driver’s room. 

“I don’t know what to do.

He heard your voice, thick with emotion. 

“You’re not working hard enough, look at Lando. You have to pay your dues here, it’s how McLaren works. Go for a run and clear your head.”

“I’m exhausted-”

“I’m not asking.” 

He stepped back, letting the door swing open. You stared back at him with wide eyes. “Run?” he offered.

“She should go on her own-”

“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged. 

You didn’t like Oscar, but it was better than going alone. 

“What’s Richards’s problem?” he asked as you two ran the streets of  Miami in the pitch black of the night. Richard was your trainer.

“He’s just a bit of a pushover,” you shrugged. “He’s making me better.”

“He’s making you train more, relax less, and eat less,” Oscar pointed out. “Is that better?” 

“So you’re a health expert now?” you scoffed. “The gaul of you, to always assume that you know better than someone just because you can. It is fucking insane how much of an ego everyone here has.”

“Maybe you should get one,” he scoffed. 

“An ego? No thanks.”

“No, a backbone,” Oscar said. “You can’t let Lando walk all over you, he’s without.”

“Without what?”

He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” you continued. “Explain.”

Oscar smirked. “Talent.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so strange.”

And off you went, running again. 

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P4, finally a good result, finally a result worth all the struggle, all the shit, everything.

But no one was at the barricade. None of your mechanics, no Zak, no one. Not even Oscar. You looked like a fucking idiot. Lando had DNFed. They were busy with him. McLaren was such a fucking boys club, and you didn’t fit in. You shook your head as you searched the barricade, not one familiar face to be had. Bullshit. 

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You walked back into the motorhome after all of your media duties, and you scoffed when they let out a half-hearted cheer. No celebration for you, only sympathy for Lanod, who crashed because of his own reckless driving, Lando who was totally fine, Lando. You pretended it didn’t hurt. You’d been congratulated by everyone else, every other driver, especially Danny, Liam, Yuki, Max, and Checo. They all gave you the biggest hug, told you how well you were doing, and celebrated you.  You wished you’d just stayed as their reserve driver. Maybe then you’d be something to someone. 

You stumbled into your driver’s room and found a note on your table, beside it, your favourite chocolate bar. 

Congratulations on your result, you deserve to be celebrated, but Lando sucks so we had to pretend that you aren’t incredible. I thought you’d enjoy something sweet, sorry we had to be the ones to leave the bitter taste in your mouth.

Osc. 

You stared down at it for a moment. Oscar knew your favourite chocolate bar. Oscar explained himself and apologised. Oscar was there for you, even if it was just in spirit. Oscar wanted to celebrate you. He wished he didn’t have to leave you alone, standing in Parc Fermé with no one to congratulate you. 

“Fuck you,” you said, to no one in particular. You were alone, as always. You crumbled up the note and threw it into the bin. 

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When Oscar looked at his desk in MTC the next morning and found the same chocolate bar he’d spent 3 hours searching for, he frowned. McLaren was ruining you slowly. Your mental health was falling further and further away from ‘alright’, and he seemed to be the only one to notice it. He saw you out of the corner of his eye. “Y/n,” he called. “Come here.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to him. “What?”

“I don’t like these,” he shrugged. “You should take it, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like them either,” you shrugged. “Go give it to Lando, since you’re his bitch now too.”

“I-”

“I don’t fucking care about where your loyalty lies, Oscar, but don’t play both sides. You picked one in Imola, so stick with it,” you seethed, hitting the bar out of his hand. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[charliemwrites]

Okay but imagine Reader knows what she’s saying in their horrible language but she just wants to see the boys reaction. Like imagine she’s telling Nikto “I want to suck your tits” in (horrible) Russian but she plays it off as something she heard on TikTok or 😏😏 She says that a guy told her that it means “Have a wonderful day”

Or! Or! Telling König “Let me lick your balls” in (horrible) German but she smiles so brightly at him cause she tells him that it means “insert another innocent statement” on TikTok. And poor König knows that she has ‘no idea’ that’s what it actually means so he has to correct her. (She absolutely does but wants to see that big boy stutter.)

She can’t even play about it with Seb cause he’ll take her on the ground. He knows and he absolutely makes her cry dumb on his cock about it. Probably growling in her ear about teaching her German since she wants to speak it so much.

See the trouble with saying someone told her to say something dirty like that irl is that they’d need details immediately because who the fuck is talking to their little bee like that. Reader would end up admitting it’s a joke just to save some poor bystanders from their wrath.

I think konig is the only one that would get flustered and have to excuse himself to hide his boner. I’m with you on Krueger taking Reader to the ground and fucking her until she can’t speak. But I think Nikto would be the same way, or maybe even try to get her to repeat things while she’s barely able to breathe with his cock pounding into her

[marvelobsessed134]

Why don’t I show you?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/n: heavily inspired by a very hot porn video I watched a while ago. This also has been sitting in my drafts for a while 💀

Warnings: smut, dom!nat, sub!reader, strap on use (r receiving), teasing, oral (both receiving), degradation

You were staying at Natasha’s house for a while because your stupid ex boyfriend dumped you again and you had no where to go. Luckily, your best friend was more than happy to take you in. And it’s totally not because she’s secretly in love with you or anything…

One day you decided to be helpful to the redhead because you felt guilty for staying in her house for free, so while she was working in her home office you snuck up to her room to clean up a bit. However, underneath her bed you found something rather shocking.

A modestly sized strap on. While you obviously knew Natasha was a lesbian, you weren’t really sure why she’d have such a thing if she wasn’t into guys. The curiosity got the best of you and so you grabbed it and went downstairs to her office.

Dropping it on the table you asked, “What is this?”

The redhead looked up from her computer and then down to the object on the table, “It’s a strap on.”

“I know that but, why? Aren’t you a lesbian?”

“Yes, but some of my hookups are bisexual and so, this gives them the best of both worlds. Besides, I like wearing it.”

“Mhm…so you like to fuck girls with a fake cock?”

The redhead shrugs, “Yeah I do,” she then leans forward, “I love to watch their pussies clench around it, the way they moan and cry out for me to go faster, harder, deeper. The way they cum all over my dick even though I can’t feel it…it gets me off.”

You stood there, blushing, “O-oh wow. Um, that’s great. But…you know, I’m more of a kinesthetic learner…” you teased as you slowly took off your shirt to reveal your lacy bra underneath.

Her eyes noticeably darkened as she stood up, “Oh yeah? You want me to fuck your pussy, baby?”

“Yes.” You breathed out. She chucked, grabbing the strap and your hand, “Come with me.”

She lead you into her bedroom and the two of you got on the bed. She grabbed your head and pressed her lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You moaned into her mouth as you kissed her back, both of you guys feeling each other up.

Natasha pulled your shirt off to reveal your light pink lace bra, she grinned, “I’m gonna fuck your pussy so hard, baby.” You giggled at her words and kissed her again, slow and passionate.

The redhead’s hands creeped behind your back and unclasped your bra, tossing it on the floor before groping your tits, twisting your nipples between her fingers.

“Ooh-“ you hissed.

“Such pretty titties.” She praised, continuing to play with them before sticking a nipple into her mouth. You stroked her hair as she sucked and bit on the sensitive flesh, making your moan and hiss.

Natasha pulled off of you and took her own shirt and bra off. You kissed her once again, letting her tongue dance in your mouth, before kissing down to her breasts. You tweaked and played with her nipples and groped the soft flesh before sucking on one of her nipples. She moaned, “Oh, good girl.” You pulled off of her and she kissed you once more, the two of you not getting enough of each other’s lips it seems.

Soon, you were lying on your back, your shorts and panties pulled off, legs spread revealing your dripping core. The redhead spit on your pussy before rubbing it at a medium pace, making you bite your lip. Then she leaned down and licked a bold stripe against your pussy, flicking her tongue as she moved her head up and down, gripping your thighs with her toned hands. You gripped her hair and she ate you out, moaning loudly at every move she made.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Was all you could muster out as she tongue fucked you. When her tongue meticulously flicked on your clit, you were done for. Your eyes rolled back as you came, letting out shrieks of pleasure.

“Good girl, fuck you taste so sweet. Now you have to do me a favor before I give you my cock okay?” She looked up at you from between your legs. You nodded. She got up and laid next to you, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down along with her panties. She spread her legs to reveal her dripping center.

“You have a pretty pussy too, Natty.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you come taste it?” You leaned in between her legs and licked her making her moan. You continued to lick her, flicking your tongue and eating her out as she gripped your hair, moaning and bucking her hips against your tongue.

“So good, right there!” Natasha moaned. She cried out as she came all over your face, you lapped it up desperately and she chuckled.

“On all fours.” She commanded. You complied immediately, and turned your head to watched her put on the harness before teasing your entrance with the tip of the strap.

“Please.” You begged.

“Mmm I don’t know…you think it’s gonna fit?” She teased.

You whimpered, “Y-yes. Please, Nat.” You begged, backing up against it.

“You naughty girl. So desperate to be filled with my dick?”

Lord, you had no idea Natasha had a thing for teasing. But you loved it.

“Y-yes! Need it so bad!”

“This pussy is so tiny, but you are very wet…” she slid in without warning, filling you to the brim. You moaned and gripped the sheets as she began to thrust into you, gripping your hips tightly.

“Fuck, such a good little cockslut. Is that right? Say it, say you’re a good little cockslut.”

“I’m a good little cockslut.” You cried.

She continued to thrust into you, gripping your hips like a vice. Her cock repeatedly hit your sweet spot making you see stars. You clenched around it and cried out as you approached your orgasm.

“Fuck yes, cum all over this dick babygirl.” Natasha groaned.

Soon she pulled out and took off the harness, tossing it aside and helping you lay down.

“So, what did you think?” The redhead asked.

“I liked it…a lot.”

“Good. And now that I’ve had my hands on you, I’m never letting you go.”

[onlinedolly]

Pllsss hear me out- dad leon with a alt kid, they're socially awkward and don't have any friends- but it's okay, leon can be your friend, he's all you need after all! And his kiddo smokes weed, not being too bothered by it, it helps with your anxiety-

But he can't help but get hard when you smile up at him with hazey red eyes and a big toothy grin! Stuttering and mumbling over your words because your brain is just too fogged up, Your just too cute!

So when you were smoking the next time he saw you, you were watching a movie and he asks to join you, sitting behind you on the bed, only starting with a hand rubbing on your back as you both watch the movie- but every hit you take leon gets more and more touchy until eventually he pounding into you, holding your face into your bed until your both crying, you from overstimulation, and leon crying that he's sorry, he'll make it up to you, he always does! (*￣∇￣*)

ohhhhh anonnie i’m wet LOL!!!!

cw warning: drug use, incest, dd:dne, rough sex, noncon, loser perverted leon, rough leon

“feelin good, hm?” leon would ask as he climbs into your bed, stroking your hair as some movie, he doesn’t really care that much about, plays in the background. leon had always been a lax dad, you were a decent enough kid and you didn’t have many friends, meaning you didn’t go out much (which he was thrilled by), so you found yourself hanging out with your father more then anything.

yes, he was a cop and yes you smoked weed but he wasn’t going to tell, he’d promised when he first found out. if that’s the worst thing you’re doing, how could he really be that mad? besides, it made you so kind to your sweet father.

you nod your head as he runs his fingers through your hair, sinking next to you on the bed. you’re fixated on the movie but all he can do is look at you, he watches as you smoke in your joint, leaning into his touch as he keeps running his fingers through your hair. as you get more hazy and high he moves his hand to rub small circles on your back, moving around a bit as he feels his cock start to stiffen.

why was his cock getting hard? why was he thinking these thoughts? your father thought to himself, he’d noticed you before in your little dresses and pretty makeup, but he always pushed it to the back of his mind. but now? now he couldn’t resist, how would he? not when you were sprawled out on the bed for him, leaning against his touch as he runs circles in your back.

so your dad tests the water first, moving his hang to grip your waist pulling you closer to him, when he notices you don’t shift away from him moves his hang up and down on your hip, that getting your attention.

“what are you doing?” you asked, soft, hazy, n sweet.

“just trust me baby,” leon speaks back just as kindly as he moves his hand to hover over the front of your panties. this was it. the point of no return. how would you react? he thought. would you push him away, call him a pervert? god he kind of was a pervert, a terrible man. a disgusting man who can’t help himself as he ghosts his fingers over clothed cunt. you late out a hazy gasp, but not moving much as he sneaks his fingers into your panties.

“this okay, baby?” he speaks low, running a finger up your cunt teasingly. you shudder and look at him with glossy eyes.

“daddy i…dunno.” you speak earnestly, you talked like you didn’t want it but from how wet he could feel you getting he kept on, spreading your puffy cunt with two fingers.

you sink down into his touch, grabbing his wrist with a limp hold, “daddy this….” you gasp a bit as he rubs past your clit, “…this ain’t right.”

“i know babygirl, im so sorry.” leon speaks as he places a kiss to the top of your head, rubbing soft circles into your fat clit. he felt terrible about it, touching you like this, he was your fucking father and now he’s nothing more then just a perverted man touching his daughter. “daddy’s so sorry.”

the circling around you clit speeds up as he watches you let out soft moans underneath him, twitching. he replaced his fingers with his thumb on your clit we he tries to insert a singular finger in you. you gasp at the pain and he practically moans at how tight it is. once inside he gives you a second to adjust before thrusting his finger in and out of you listening to how your whines turn into deep moans.

“d-daddy—“ your broken voice calls out as he picks up the pace, “we should stop.” you plead, but leon sees right through your facade as you wiggle around in his touch moaning softly.

“i know baby, i know. daddy’s so sorry, daddy’ll getcha whatever you want after, okay? just—“ he picks up the pace, rubbing your clit hard as he fucks you with his fingers, “let daddy do this okay?”

you’re about to cum, you can feel the coil of heat inside you and it’s about to snap. when you do cum, it’s hard and you’re bucking against your fathers fingers. the sight alone could make leon cream himself, but he’s not done. no, not yet.

he gives you time to adjust from your orgasm before he’s pushing you into the bed, face in the pillow and ass propped up as you’re on all fours. he’s fumbling around anxiously now, anxious to feel your tight cunt suck in his cock, as he unbuckles his belt and hurriedly pulls down his jeans. you’re in nothing but a pretty nightgown and black lacy panties making you the easiest of access.

once leon has his cock out he strokes it, letting out a deep guttural groan at the sight of you. and then he’s pulling down your panties and you panic, sobering up the tiniest bit as you try to raise up, to no avail since leon has you pinned to the bed.

“daddy this really isn’t okay—“ he slaps your ass, sending your body forward and you whine out loudly.

“sorry daddy hit you baby, daddy’s so so sorry,” he leans his head back in ecstasy before hes lining himself up with you, pushing himself into your tight cunt. “just let daddy do this, please baby.” and god you feel like heaven. tighter then he thought and so wet and hot. it’s almost impossible to work himself into you as you cry and whimper and clench around him. but oh, does leon love a challenge. so he thrusts harder as he finally gets himself fully inside of you.

“daddy!” you yelp, sobbing into the pillow as your clit pulses at the delicious feeling of him ripping you open. and then he starts, a brutal pace, a downright mean pace. especially for fucking his daughter who he knew was a pretty little virgin. but he couldn’t help it, you felt so good when you clenched in pain around his cock as he thrust into you with such force it made your head bang against the head board.

he had your hair a ball in his fist as he pushed your face into the pillow, muffling your screams and soft moans as he tears you from the inside out. your cunt is dripping all over his cock, the bed, as you let out little pleads asking him to stop but he just can’t.

he brings his free hand to your nipples under your shirt, squeezing them harshly as he collapses his body on top of yours, biting roughly into your shoulder, “jesus fuck baby, feel so so good. daddy’s so sorry he can’t stop, your just—“ thrust “so fucking—” thrust “—tight” thrust. you’re a mess at this point, sobbing and drooling into the pillow as he continues his brutal pace.

once leon finally comes, it’s a lot, hot and it fills you so full you think your going to pass out. his hips stutter as he jerks against your body, cumming and growling loudly in your ear. you’re a mess of tears and snot as he pulls out of you, his soft demeanor returning as he places a kiss to the back of your head. “daddy’s so sorry baby, getcha whatever you want to make it right, please forgive me?” he’s tearful now, stroking the back of your head as you lay there limp and out of it. leon was a perverted terrible man.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Something familiar — Lando Norris x reader x Oscar piastri

Word count— 1206

Fluff

Summary— after a rough emotional week you just want to eat something familiar with your boys

I wrote this last night while watching the movie.

You didn’t want to admit it, but the past few days had taken a toll on you. It felt like a storm cloud had settled over your head, darkening everything you tried to do. You weren’t sure why you felt so down—maybe it was a culmination of stress, self-doubt, and the weight of small disappointments—but it was overwhelming. So when Oscar and Lando found you sitting on the couch, eyes red and cheeks damp, they knew something was wrong.

“What’s going on, love?” Oscar asked softly, sitting beside you. His hand immediately found your knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles.

Lando appeared a moment later, holding a blanket he must’ve grabbed from the bedroom. “Bad day?” he asked, draping it over your shoulders as he slid onto the other side of you.

You nodded wordlessly, letting out a shaky breath. You didn’t have the energy to explain; luckily, you didn’t have to. Oscar pressed a kiss to your temple, and Lando tucked the blanket snugly around you, their presence alone melting some of the tension in your chest.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Lando said after a moment of quiet. “We’re going to do whatever makes you feel better. Want food? A walk? A boxing match between me and Oscar? I’d win, by the way.”

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head. “In your dreams. But seriously, what do you need, sweetheart?”

You hesitated before murmuring, “Can we just… watch Spirit? I think I just need something familiar.”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron? The horse movie?”

“Yes, the horse movie,” you replied, managing a small smile despite yourself.

Oscar grinned, pulling you closer. “Done. Whatever you need, baby.”

Ten minutes later, you were nestled between them on the couch, the movie queued up on the TV. Lando had insisted on making popcorn, though you had to stop him from adding his ridiculous “secret seasoning” of chili powder and sugar. Oscar brought over a cup of tea for you, handing it over with a kiss to your knuckles.

As the opening music played, Lando leaned in, whispering to Oscar, “So, is this like Black Beauty or The Lion King? I’m not ready to cry over a horse.”

“Shh,” you hushed him, though your lips twitched into a smile. “Just watch.”

Oscar nudged him. “No interruptions. She loves this movie.”

The first notes of Here I Am began, and you couldn’t help but hum along. Oscar noticed, and without missing a beat, he joined in softly, his warm voice a perfect counterpoint to yours. Lando looked between the two of you, grinning.

“Wait, is this a duet now? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Because you don’t know the words,” you teased, smiling despite yourself.

“I can learn,” he shot back, then dramatically cleared his throat and belted out, “HERE I AMMMM!” His voice cracked on the high note, sending Oscar into a fit of laughter.

“Stop, you’re going to scare Spirit away,” Oscar teased, nudging Lando with his elbow.

“Fine, fine,” Lando said, holding up his hands in surrender. “But I’ll crush the next song.”

You shook your head, giggling. It was impossible to feel down with these two.

When Get Off of My Back came on, Lando was fully committed. He stood up, pretending to be Spirit bucking off his rider, singing dramatically, “WHY DON’T YOU GET OFF OF MY BACK?!” He even threw in a little kick for effect.

Oscar groaned, burying his face in his hands, though he was clearly holding back a laugh. “Why did I agree to this?”

“Because you love me,” Lando said with a cheeky grin before dropping back onto the couch.

“Debatable,” Oscar muttered, but his hand found yours beneath the blanket, giving it a squeeze.

When Spirit met Rain, both of them immediately leaned forward, invested in the unfolding scene.

“So this is a love story?” Lando asked, gesturing to the screen. “They’re just… staring at each other?”

“It’s called chemistry,” Oscar replied, amused.

You rolled your eyes. “Shh, just watch. This is the best part.”

As Spirit and Rain started running through the field, splashing through water and nudging one another playfully, Oscar let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, I admit, this is kind of sweet.”

Lando, on the other hand, was smirking. “Sweet? He’s showing off for her. Classic move.”

When Rain splashed Spirit, Lando mimicked her with an exaggerated, “Gotcha!” Oscar snorted but didn’t take his eyes off the screen, and you shook your head, trying not to laugh at their antics.

The real emotional reactions came when spirit was protecting a hurt Rain. The screen fell silent except for the mournful music, and you noticed Oscar’s jaw tightening.

“She—she’s okay, right?” he asked, glancing at you.

You nodded softly. “Just keep watching.”

Lando, on the other hand, looked visibly distressed. “No, no, no. He saved her! This can’t be how it ends for him.”

When Sound the Bugle began, Oscar surprised you by singing softly along with Bryan Adams. His voice was low and steady, the emotion in it making your chest ache in the best way. You leaned into him, closing your eyes as his arm tightened around you.

“Okay, why is he actually good at this?” Lando muttered, pouting. “It’s not fair.”

“You could’ve joined the choir too,” Oscar teased.

“Not when I’m already busy being the fun one,” Lando replied, earning another round of laughter from you.

By the time the movie reached the triumphant I Will Always Return, the three of you were singing together—not in harmony, but loud and unapologetically off-key.

When Little Creek freed Spirit to return to Rain, both of them visibly relaxed. Lando threw his hands up in relief. “Finally! Took him long enough to realize Spirit’s a hero.”

Oscar shook his head, his expression softening as Spirit and Rain reunited. “That’s love right there,” he said, his voice quieter now. He glanced at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re tearing up.”

You sniffled, smiling sheepishly. “It’s a good moment, okay?”

“See?” Lando said afterward, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re basically Spirit’s backup singers now. We should tour.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “We’d get booed off stage in two minutes.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m a star,” Lando shot back, making you laugh harder than you had in days.

When the credits rolled, Lando stretched his legs out with an exaggerated groan. “I take back everything I said. That movie was brilliant. The music, the action, the emotional depth… 10 out of 10.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “You just like the chase scenes.”

“Maybe,” Lando admitted, grinning. “But seriously, I get why you love it now.” He turned to you, his expression softening. “Thanks for sharing it with us.”

Oscar nodded, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We should make this a tradition. Every time you’re feeling low, we watch Spirit—or anything else you want.”

Your chest swelled with warmth as you looked at the two of them. They didn’t have to do any of this, yet they always found a way to make you feel cared for. “I love you guys,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Love you more,” Lando said instantly, pulling you into his chest.

“Impossible,” Oscar added, wrapping his arms around both of you.

The three of you stayed like that for a while, the TV still glowing softly in the background. You realized then that no matter how heavy life got, you’d always have them to lean on. And for now, that was enough.

[s3renascorner]

Have you ever tried this one?

MDNI!!

Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

Warnings!: oral (f receiving) p in v (don't be like them and use protection!) Pet names, cursing, mentions of being tipsy. I think that's it.

Not proofread! so sorry for shitty grammar.

You

"Noah are you finally ready!?" You yelled from your room to your roommate and best friend. You heard heavy footsteps approach your room as Noah walked towards your room, he stops right at your front door and says "damn can't you be a little more patient? I was just finishing up" you quickly grab your purse and put on your shoes, you open up the door revealing yourself to Noah. "no Noah I can't be, we have to be there early so we can get merch remember?" Noah's eyes slightly widen as he takes in what you're wearing, a very short light pink sparkly mini skirt with a matching top and platform boots resembling a stage outfit Sabrina carpenter wears. "You look, extremely good ya know?" He says looking at you up and down. "uh huh thanks now lets go" you say rushing.

After the concert had started Noah was definitely sure he was going to tease you at home after the concert especially after hearing you say "come right on me, I mean camaraderie" well, until the song 'juno' started playing and Noah quickly got what the song was about but what he didn't expect was the position part, Sabrina laid on the floor lifting one leg then swiftly going into the splits, you had jokingly told him that you had apparently "never tried that one in your life" obviously this was supposed to be a light hearted joke especially with the amount of teasing this man gave you every day, but he took it another way, those words making him feel warm and weak, in that moment he thought about you laying there for him completely at his disposal, doing everything and anything for him. He wouldn't lie and say that he's never thought about you in another way than more than friends or that he's never thought of you bare before him doing so many sinful things to-and with him but damn, right now he just wanted to take you away and fuck you til your dumb in the back of his car.

After the concert had ended and you guys got back in the car (well, barely since you were tipsy) Noah couldn't stop thinking about what you had said, it was stupid really, but the fact that just thinking about you in that same position, making you cum until you were seeing stars and just have you. "I actually think that this is the best night of my life" you slurred while giggling. "oh really? And why is that miss I love to scream horny lyrics?" You dramatically gasped and put your hand on your heart, "you wound me sir, and also you listen to the weekend, that's wayyyyy worse than just saying I'm so fucking horny"

sir. That word alone made his cock twitch, not because he likes being called that but because he wants to hear you call him that again and again. "I guess your right" he clears his throat "well, we should get going traffics gonna suck either way right?" He tries to change the topic, You hum in response "well I mean yeah but why don't we wait for a while? Everyone's gonna be headed the same direction and we don't have to be up early tomorrow, plus if I get motion sickness while being tipsy, well that's not gonna be pretty so lets just, wait it out." That wouldn't work for Noah, he just needed to take a cold shower and relax cause if not god knows he would be struggling especially with how you act while tipsy. Last time he was alone with you while tipsy it ended up in you talking about how no one was good for you and that you couldn't even have sex because it didn't feel right, and yes you did cry on him that day. Noah wasn't going to push the idea of going back home since he knew you were gonna make him agree with you either way. He just needed to figure out how to distract himself.

"you okay? You seem tense... Like a lot." You said putting a hand on his shoulder, "uh yeah I'm fine just a little tired that's all." "Um..." You said trying to come up with something. "well you can sleep in the backseat with your head in my lap for you to be comfortable" "um, sure" he said, he climbed into the back of the car and sat down waiting for you to come climb in the back, once you did you accidentally fell on his lap, your skirt rose up and you felt his semi hard on. "Shit, sorry noah" your faces had matching flushed cheeks and that nervous look in your eyes, you tried to move away so you could sit down on the seat but his grip was firm holding you in place. You looked at him nervous and slightly excited, he started lightly caressing your exposed thighs not realizing you half exposed ass since he was so focused on your face and on every little expression that changed. The air felt hotter and your senses had heightened feeling every bit of him covered body except for the hand that was on your thigh that's the thing you could feel the most. The moment felt like eternities but was actually mere seconds. "Y/n?" "yes?" You said barely above a whisper.

"hypothetically if I were to kiss you right now, what would you hypothetically do?" His question took you aback, was he actually going to do this? "Hypothetically, I think I would want more than just a kiss." His eyebrows slightly raised and he nodded just a tiny bit, he carefully but quickly lifted you up and positioned you so you were straddling him. "So... About what you said inside, you've never tried that? Ever?" He said a teasing smirk on his lips. You gulped trying to understand what he was trying to do, "no... I haven't like ever." "would you like to?" Your eyes widened, your breath got heavier, jesus this man could make you nervous in a second.

"What?" "Would. You. Like. To. Try. It?" He put punctuation at every word, soaking up the fact that he could get you like this without even doing anything. "y-yes" you said basically breathless, Noah didn't say anything he just slowly lifted your skirt and made sure that you would be prepared.

He leaned in leaving a peak on your neck going all the way up until he reached your lips and asked "may i?" After you nodded just wanting some kind of touch he leaned in, lips touching yours as if he was testing the waters first. you both had a good rhythm it was slow and passionate, god knows how long you've been wanting to do this with him, his hands started to ride up your thighs to grip your ass, once he did you slightly gasped which gave him the freedom to slip his tongue into your mouth tasting you properly. He slowly moved his hips against yours trying to get some friction as he couldn't get enough of you, your hands were tangled in his hair making it disheveled and messy but he didn't give a shit about that with you like this.

"Fuck Noah, I need you" you moan out breathlessly. "need me to what princess?" God that nickname could make you fold any day, "i... I need you inside me" he nodded quickly and laid you down in the backseat slowly stripping you of your clothes, every layer he took off weirdly felt like a layer of the feelings that you two had for each other was being exposed and shown, with no lies nor any doubts, and sure you could've expected this to just be another quick fuck but it wasn't, it was love and passion that you two had been holding on to and keeping a secret for the years and years of your friendship.

Noah gazed and admired your naked body taking everything in as if he were never to see it again, he softly kissed up your thighs and stopped at were your core is to ask "are you sure?" You nodded but responded with a quick yes because you knew he needed a verbal answer "green if you're okay, yellow if you need to slow down and red if you want me to stop. Ok?"

"ok." Noah placed a soft kiss on her core earning him a soft whimper from you a signal that he could keep going, he left kitten licks still just warming you up until you had finally had enough and had asked him for even more which was what he was waiting for. He, to put it bluntly, ate you like it was his last meal making you say his name like a prayer. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach tightening begging to release, "Noah I'm gonn- can i-" you barely muttered out "cum for me baby, let go." euphoria washed over you, making you feel like you weren't real. "you still with me princess?" Noah asked making sure you were ok, his hands rubbed up and down your thighs the feeling making the sense of touch come back. "Yeah, yeah I just I need you inside me noah." Noah smirked and for one last time kissed your thighs each two times, "your wish is my command doll."

He sat up and stripped himself of his clothes, you couldn't help but stare at his bare self, you'd imagined him before but god it was better than you'd expected. "take a picture it'll last longer" he teased "oh shut it" you said, he grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to him hooking a leg on his shoulder the other resting on the seat as you laid on your elbows, this was a surprise because you didn't think he would actually do the position you just thought he was joking or teasing you like always. "what are you doing?" He raised an eyebrow "I told you we would do it." You just shut up and bit your lip as he positioned himself to your entrance. He slowly slid in making sure you adjusted to his size before starting to thrust, when you gave him the signal he started moving at a slower pace but quickly picked it up when he heard the first whiny moan you let out, it felt fucking magical for a lack of words, every thrust and moan that you both let out was so intimate and special because you both knew that it was just for you two, not for anyone others ears to hear, not for anyone other to feel how deep he went and how fucking wet you were for him it was just, the two of you.

You could tell he was about to cum when his thrust got sloppy and fast, you weren't to far behind either the second knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter waiting for you to cum, you walls tightened against him and you started basically chanting his name, your hands intertwined as your head fell back as your breath got unsteady. "Fuck doll, I'm gonna come." You squeezed his hand "come for me noah" you both let out groans as you came at the same time, his hot seed filling you up until you were leaking cum. He collapsed on top of you breathless but so fucking satisfied and so were you. "We- we should probably get home shouldn't we?" He held onto you tighter "in a bit"

The next day...

You were scrolling on your phone through tiktok while laying on Noah's chest when a video of the concert from yesterday popped up, specifically the juno position part, you watched as Sabrina raised her leg while asking the question "have you ever tried this one?" remembering last night. Noah spoke up as he heard and just said-

Yes we did.

[pret-boy]

I'll just answer these straight up because NOBODY LIKES ME!

1. Anywhere with my bf is great but I would love an arcade date. I wanna beat his ass at games. Or get my ass beat. Either way it's fun.

2. I just listen to mentally ill Vocaloid producers and Japanese twinks given musical talent please don't ask me anything like this again.

3. Being accepted unconditionally.

4. Taken I love my boytoy malewife husband I keep him in a small enclosure.

5. Many because I'm very very arospec and I "crush" on people for like 3 hours max and move on. So it's like a fun movie experience to me. If we're talking crushes that lasted at least a week that'd be like... six as far as I remember. People I've dated included.

6. People who are the opposite of me. I like women who are cool and collected and don't fuck with me (and older ideally) and men who are sad wet cats and would die if I looked at someone else. I've only dated the latter though. But generally I also really like people who have a darker aesthetic (regardless of personality) because I have a cutesy aesthetic and visually those are fucking awesome together.

7. Extremely. I speedrun crushes. I will crush on someone 30 minutes into knowing them (happened with my ex btw) and lose the crush the next day. I don't even know if they count as crushes they're like just a fun little thing to spice up an otherwise boring day for me.

8. I honestly don't care. I'd like something wholesome and fluffy though, like festive movies. Christmas movies yay!

9. Sunflowers and lilies.

10. Neither you nor I know. No one does. Divine inspiration strikes me at random. I don't know what a musical note even is but I composed and played a short tune for my ex on our anniversary out of fucking NOWHERE because I wanted to surprise him.

11. Idk.

12. Anything and everything really but giving I'm more of a quality time and words of affirmation person (with acts of service on the side), receiving I like quality time too.

13. My bf's been calling me "darling" lately and it really melts me like fucking butter. So cute.

14. No.

15. Not at the moment actually. I've been busy so I haven't gotten into any new media and my old fictional crushes fizzled out. Does my bf's oc count? I'm obsessed with them.

16. Both are good I'm not picky. If I had to pick, quiet. It's cuter. Yeah boy quiet down. I like men who know their place and shut the fuck up. I really liked this guy in my class who sat next to me and this other girl and we would yap the whole time while he sat there with his knees pressed together and hands folded in his lap like a good little Victorian maiden, not even uttering a single word. Like yep thats a good man right there. Keep that up.

17. Every man I relate to is bisexual. Because I said so.

18. My boyfriend. Pizza.

19. Can't let the hoes know my music taste lest I scare them.

20. Idk. I get a lot. I guess my boyfriend saying I'm scary and he finds it hot is the best recent one.

21. ALL WHEN YOU'RE MY BOYFRIEND BECAUSE HE'S CUTE AS HELL!!!! But in general I love cheek kisses. I'm a serial cheek kisser. Toxic masculinity be damned my boy (me) can kiss his friends on their cheeks and hold them affectionately.

22. Back.

23. I won't say because it's an instant giveaway to who I am fr. I'm like the only man that insane about him.

24. NOTHING THAT BRINGS ME PLEASURE MAKES ME FEEL GUILT! I AM HEDONISTIC AND FREE!

25. I love PDA. Not hardcore making out in public or some shit but y'know.

26. Gently? Also with jokes and if I'm upset because of someone, hate on them and tell me you will hex them and they're ugly and doomed to die alone while I'm beautiful and a winner and god's favorite (all very true btw). I love envisioning my opps' downfalls.

27. PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE! PLAYFUL BULLYING! PUTTING MY BELOVEDS IN A CAGE! BEING INSANE! YAPPING ABOUT THEM 24/7! MAKING THEM SCARED! MAKING THEM CRY! WAITING FOR THEM TO COME BACK WHEN THEY'RE BUSY! MAKING TIME FOR THEM! SENDING THEM THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF THEM! TELLING THEM ABOUT MY FATHER (I FUCKING HATE MY FATHER)! And of course comforting them and making them feel safe. Also beating the shit out of my loved one's enemies (for real) and praying on their misery. I have a lot of loving sadism in my heart but also I'm a sweetheart angel who loves people unconditionally and doesn't know what the word grudge means. Unless you're mean to my loved ones then I'll fucking kill you.

28. Both. Whatever my bf wanna be I'll be the opposite I'm a very accomodating and flexible man.

29. I love sad wet cat pathetic loser men so much I wish they were real.

mlm ask game!

1. ideal date location?

2. favorite mlm song?

3. what makes you feel loved?

4. are you single or taken?

5. how many crushes have you had?

6. what's your type?

7. do you develop crushes quickly?

8. best show or movie for a date night at home?

9. what are your favorite flowers?

10. what would you give as a gift on an anniversary?

11. what's your favorite album?

12. what's your love language?

13. what are some pet names that make you blush?

14. do you read fanfiction?

15. any fictional crushes?

16. loud boys or quiet boys?

17. any characters you headcanon as mlm?

18. what's your comfort food?

19. last song you listened to?

20. best compliment you ever received?

21. kiss on the lips, cheek or forehead?

22. scalp massage or back massage?

23. any celebrity crushes?

24. what's your guilty pleasure?

25. do you like PDA?

26. how do you prefer to be comforted?

27. favorite way to express affection?

28. big spoon or little spoon?

29. freebie! ask or prompt to share something random

[epickiya722]

Folks, you're not going to like what I have to say. I just know it and I'm warning you of that. I said it once before, but leaks really do make some folks act out in ways that I can't understand. We ain't even got a full translation and already people are saying this ship is canon and that ship is canon... and whatever else. Jumping to conclusions when you don't even have all the facts.

Look, I'm not saying Hori is the best writer. I'm not saying Izuku and Ochako is a bad ship (it's not, there's worse... a lot worse).

But I do think some people are jumping ten steps ahead and I doubt that they are canon romantically. This isn't me being in denial because I could care less about the ship. It's not a ship that makes me sit up at night and cry and want to punch a wall and harass people. No ship for me does.

So far, from what I can gather from the very little information Izuku wants to see Ochako more because... THEY LITERALLY HAVEN'T SEEN EACH OTHER A LOT. In the last chapter, Izuku states that the class haven't been able to catch up and whatnot because over the years they got busy with their careers. The last time they probably had a proper conversation was in high school.

Izuku and Ochako wanting to meet up more doesn't automatically mean they're going to date. Let's not forget, Ochako is one of the first people to become a close friend of Izuku's in their first year. They clicked because they were so similar. They mirror each other even!

They're best friends if anything and wouldn't you want to see your best friend after not seeing them for a long time?

So far, it just feels that this epilogue is them accepting their own feelings about everything that has happened, like a self-reflection and self-acceptance type of deal.

Sometimes, you realize something about yourself when encountering someone who is like you. That's how Izuku and Ochako are to me.

It takes them identifying with the other to come to terms about themselves.

"But the blushing! The handholding!"

So blushing automatically means "I have romantic feelings for you", is what some of you are saying?

Just gonna forget all the times they and others have blushed out of embarrassment or happiness? That even some characters have the blush stickers to show their sweet innocent nature, like Ochako for most of the story?

Izuku blushed at Katsuki in the final chapter out of happiness, so it can't apply here, too? Why does blushing got to only be used in a romantic sense?

Seeing Izuku blushing looking at Ochako is funny when considering he's holding an (possibly) alcoholic beverage in that same shot. My guy is probably drunk. 😆 Jokes aside, jokes aside.

This is Ochako and Izuku, we're talking about here. They're the Queen and King of MHA characters who blush a lot, no matter what is going on.

And the handholding? In MHA? It happens a lot between characters! It's not like anything new or Izuku and Ochako are going to get cooties.

Look, I might make some people laugh or hate me for this one but when I saw this... I was reminded of this.

For those that don't know, that is from the Predator (1987). Yes, that Predator.

Two characters that have been friends for a long time and just happy to see each other.

We seen this kind of handshake like this before between characters of different and same genders. Either as a greet or as an agreement.

Izuku and Ochako are just agreeing to see each other more and that they should allow themselves to live happy lives. That doesn't mean they're going to start dating and having babies the following week.

"Bakugou is being treated like his wingman!"

Ah, stop right there. Katsuki encouraging Izuku to talk to Ochako isn't like that strange because between Izuku and Katsuki, Katsuki is the one to most likely reveal his emotions. He is more in touch with his emotions than Izuku who while emotional tends to keep everything in.

Katsuki isn't playing wingman. He's playing advisor and someone who has experience with emotions.

Seeing Izuku stumbling over his words and being all nervous trying to talk to Ochako is so in character for him. He has never been too good expressing his emotions.

I doubt Katsuki would be like "go tell her you want to marry her". He is more like "go talk to her, you're friends, remember? Been forever since you had a proper conversation."

It's the same case with Himiko pushing Ochako towards Izuku. She is encouraging her to be happy and not be stuck in the past. Not "go get married".

Happiness doesn't mean you must be in a romance.

Just me, again, but I feel like some people are really just jumping the gun here. If you really are thinking Izuku and Ochako being canon is bad for your ship, that's... I'm sorry, this will be mean of me to say, but that's ridiculous.

A ship being canon shouldn't stop you from enjoying the ships you do like. What ever happen to "ignore canon"? Oh, I guess that becomes irrelevant when you want to cause panic and bash and panic and bash and panic and bash.

Like a handhold like that shouldn't make you feel threatened by that ship.

Just continue shipping your ships! Take it from someone whose favorite ship is of two characters who haven't been seen interacting before.

Even still, with just leaks alone, it doesn't mean they are canon. I have my ships and there's moments in whatever the story makes me ship them but I also don't think every little behavior is meant to be romantic.

The thing I know I'm going to hate about this epilogue isn't even the chapter itself. It's the reactions.

I know some people are going to say this chapter is queerbait and use to it to even go as far as to bash Ochako given she is the woman and it's routine to hate on the woman. It ain't queerbait if Katsuki and Izuku wasn't going to be explicitly a couple themselves. Let's not forget it's Shonen Jump and even though the queer coding can be there, we can't have everything.

Also, I also know that some fans of IzuOcha are going to use this chapter to justify their "authority" of "best ships" and harass people like "my ship is better than yours" and be only concerned about Ochako being a housewife.

I don't think Horikoshi is the greatest human and MHA is a flawless story but some of you are no better to these characters and the story.

[m1ssunderstanding]

My thoughts on Beatles 64

Am I a terrible person or something because I’m genuinely having such a hard time wrapping my head around these people’s reactions to their president getting shot. Like I can count on one hand the people I’d give a fuck about in DC and I’m not crying if that happens. I’m angry. I’m scared. But I’m not sad.

Who is this covering all my loving? It’s pretty.

I will forever love Paul and George’s big and little brother dynamic. Deep, cloudy scouse: they’re in perfect synchronization. Bright, squeaky scouse: Are they? Like, where is George’s little chimney sweep costume?!

And Paul’s sharp tone calling John’s name. I don’t know, I could obsess over any little scrap of footage of them. I just love picking apart details that reveal dynamics.

George’s insecure, curious, “Are you filming now?” Compared to his over-it, sardonic, “Are you recording our conversation?” He aged about twenty years between 64 and 69.

John’s reaction to his own voice in his ears is always a straight shot of joy.

I like that they’re showing all the boys. You know, because if only girls like them, then they’re just a silly pop group, but if boys like them too, well. That’s something else, isn’t it?

One of my favorite moments. No wonder Paul took so well to shepherding. His blood pressure spiking if John gets out of arm's reach. And John is of course so happy to be pulled back in.

Their hair really was so fluffy!

John spreads his legs when he’s playing because he’s an anxious attachment. Paul keeps his legs closed because he’s avoidant. In this essay I will.

This mix of She Loves You is really highlighting Ringo’s drumming for me. He’s so talented and attractive.

This is why Paul’s my favorite, genuinely. Because he goes from the most polite, people-pleasing, tender-heart to an absolute mean girl cunty bitch in the span of less than a second.

Ringo is the quickest wit, I’m telling you, and if anyone says otherwise, I’m cancelling you for classism.

Why is it always Paul these middle aged creeps feel the need to touch? I mean, I know why. But it makes me sick. That kind of thing is reserved for the mutuals. Definitely not cops.

It’s literally sooooo funny for me seeing this guy choke up about She Loves You. Like I’m genuinely happy for him, but I was literally just over at my husband’s grandparents double-wide and they Still go on about how stupid the Beatles haircuts were and how they remember the days before the Beatles when there was ‘real’ rock and roll on the radio.

So, Paul’s been telling the story of Jim critiquing She Loves You for literally sixty years now, and originally it was with mix-ins from John and George and without a lot of artificial sweeteners. Here’s the sixty-year-old version:

Back home in Liverpool, we used to sing over some of our songs to relatives—I did to my Dad and my aunties,” he recalled. “My Dad would look at me looking disappointed. ‘I don’t know young Paul,’ he’d say. ‘I try to get you to speak properly, and you drop your aitches. Why sing ‘Yeah, Yeah’ when you mean ‘Yes, Yes?’ I tried to explain this was the whole point of the song,” Paul continued. John broke in: “Anyone ever heard someone from Liverpool singing ‘Yes’? It’s YEAH.” Paul continued: “Well, we just laughed. My Dad gave us some of the worst advice ever. He said this music thing will never last. It’s all right on the side, he’d say, BUT PAUL IT WILL NEVER LAST!” “Remember,” said George, “he always wanted us to sing ‘Stairway to Paradise’?” – Ray Coleman article 1964

What a cutie. Shouldn't be allowed.

“That wasn’t really the case.” (that America was the land of the free). He always almost gets to his political views. You know? Microdosing? Left-bating? Maybe both. Whatever.

I LOVE their funny little accents with all my heart. John does posh scarily well.

Ringoooooooo!

“Go on! Defy convention!” Quotes that define the speaker. He should sell t-shirts with that slogan.

This girl’s Brooklyn accent and her confidence are so beautiful!

Why did they buy John an ID I’m actually dying! Oh! They don’t mean, they mean like Paul’s and Ringo’s bracelets. Got it. Okay. I was like ‘are you trying to help him ten years in advance with his immigration struggle?’

The juilliard girl is phenomenal.

I want the nylons and I want the shoes.

“Would you do me a tremendous favor?” “I’m not gonna kiss you like Elisabeth Taylor.” See? Ringo is the funny one. Ringo is so fucking sharp and nobody gives him the credit he’s due.

Ronnie Spector you deserved better, Queen! I love her. She’s so gorgeous, she’s so cool, she’s so young and energetic!

Two excellent Lennonisms right in a row. “Have you been watching the newsies?” and “I don’t care,” I say as I care caringly. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he has the most sunshiny smile in the Beatles.

Ringoooooo!

Not the picture of JohnandPaul singing together as “with lovers and friends” plays.

Love Paul offering Ringo a candy. In yet another accent. People need to make them talk in goofy accents more in fic because it’s incessant. But I just love them offering each other food. It’ll always get me.

See, this is what I love about John. “People have been tryna stamp out rock and roll since it started.” “Why do you think that is? What are they afraid of?” “I always thought it was cause it came from black music.” He’s not ‘honest to a fault’ or whatever the boomer men love to say. But he’s very, very blunt, and he’s not going to try and skirt anything. You know?

Literally the most embarrassing thing a person can ever be is white.

“I thought it was very weak. You know what I think, I call a spade a spade. I thought it was weaker than weak.” Cook him! And then the mimicking! I love him so much! Holy shit, that would’ve been so enraging.

And then the quiet sass of the guy being interviewed right after. “Well, the versatility, the originality. I like anything that’s original.” I love some clever tumblr web-weaving in my documentaries.

In my husband’s grandparent’s defense, the “real rock and roll” they loved before the Beatles was literally only black artists.

I love this picture for ever. Look at how tight he’s holding on to John with one hand and the other hand raised in joyous triumph, engagement bracelet visible. This is Paul in heaven.

“The whole assumption of male vs female is not prominent. They’re sort of in-between.” Yes. Love. Keep going.

Ringo’s got all the quips, again. “Ringo, look over here!” Puts his hands up. “Don’t shoot!”

I didn’t know Smokey Robinson and the Miracles went to the Cavern, that’s cool! And here I was thinking I wouldn’t learn anything new from this doc. His whole interview is very lovely and generous.

I always think “You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me” probably spoke to John in terms of his relationship with Paul, but I go there so easily. Anyway, Smokey Robinson had every right to be pissed that they released a cover of his song without even asking. Like that would be illegal nowadays, right? And yet he’s so kind about it.

We talk about how scary Beatlemania was and we should because it was, but it really puts it in perspective for me personally hearing Smokey say he was shot at for trying to use the bathroom.

Oh I love that we have footage of Paul taking Ringo’s picture! Makes me think of “eye of the storm” obviously, but also the way he’s mocking the photographer's jargon of the time as he’s doing it. The fact that he ended up marrying a photographer who made a point to depict him as not just “some doe eyed sex object” in her pictures, and also of his song “pretty boys” and his quotes about the sexualization of “male models”. Definitely not about anything he himself experienced. Anyway, thoughts. Strings. Pins. Etc.

Also Ringo turning to the camera still filming him, “what do you think I am, a monkey?” Remember that part in this footage where Ringo says something like, “are we ever going to have a break from all these cameras?” And he’s exhausted. It really seems like, from the footage selected by this doc at least, that Paul and Ringo were doing the bulk of the lifting at this time just with cooperating with the show biz stuff. And isn’t that (interesting? Sad? Poetic? Good?) that they’re the ones still cooperating sixty years later.

How dare they cut out “but we ain’t written no poetry!”

As John’s panicking, “how are we gonna – have you seen the kids? How are we gonna get in, then?” Paul’s just calmly going, “Hi girls!” With a patient smile and a cute little wave. “I’ll just go in and speak to the people first, okay?” I love Paul “calming-down-other-people’s-hysteria-is-my-calling-in-life” McCartney.

Cute, George introducing a song he’ll do a viral backflip to in twenty years.

I wonder what that letter is. John’s being very tender with it.

“You’re fired!” “It’s Love Me Do, whacker!” With the sweetest most innocent smile. I love when John is John, you know?

“To me they’re all obviously low or middle class, highly illiterate, unintelligent wild kids seeking a little fun and pleasure . . . I think there’s something very strange about it at the same time, something very sick. . . . I’m sure that sexual reasons have something to do with it. They find the Beatles sexually attractive and they’ve made some kind of psychological tie with them. I think the whole thing’s a little bit frightening and quite sick.” Where’s that old meme with Trump describing the democrats in the most hateful terms he can think of and people being like “yep that’s me”?

Paul stopping to say goodbye by name to each of the people who've been in their hotel room one by one. It’s giving *Opra voice* “and you please don’t hate us and you please dont hate us and you please don’t hate us”

Ringo coming back because he went the wrong way is the most me-core thing.

Paul will come in with the random shouts and yelling in the middle of a song he’s singing lead on all the way from the very beginning and all the way to the very very end, huh.

I just get filled with so much rage at this image of the Bernstein family, especially after the footage of the Gonzalezes. Like, I know I need therapy. I know. But it costs money. Anyway, all rich people can go straight to hell. “I was allowed to wheel the TV set down from the library, down the corridor and into the dining room.” Oh, were you! Well, you must be very special, then.

I wonder if Paul’s title of his exhibition has anything to do with this quote from John about “It was like being in the eye of a hurricane.”

The girl hanging on Ringo like a jungle-gym is me. I love the way he flirts, it’s so smooth, physical, casual.

Classic John moment and he doesn’t even open his mouth.

My dearest wish is that these two are happily married now, holding hands in the theater watching this.

The voice of the woman asking Paul “what do you think of the American TV” sounded extremely like Linda’s. I sort of panicked for a second. Linda’s voice is lower, but the accent and cadence and the sort of wealthy slouch is the same.

I love them picking up on the dystopian beginnings of America’s version of late-stage capitalism and broadcasting the ridiculousness of it all to a public that didn’t know any different. “The situation in China is very bad. Have you ever wondered, when you’re eating at home?”

The guys setting up wearing Beatles wigs? Ew. Why?

Ringo’s so funny! “Watch any band. If anything goes wrong, they go – Blame the drummer.” And he’s so endearing and sweet. “I just always wanted to be IN the band, not like ‘oh, I’m over here.’” Reminds me of his quote about being lonely as an only child and ending up with three brothers. What a tenderheart.

Huh. Always thought some idiots just set up his rostrum backwards. The rest of the stage spinning around it makes much more sense.

That little smile between the two of them.

George in tears! Poor baby! I really do think, with the way this affected him on another level than it affected the others, and with the way he talked about his experiences at the Inny compared to Paul (not that you can trust Paul to say anything actually gets to him) that George maybe was more sensitive to classism than the others.

I hope Paul said something to that affect to George after. “They’re working at an embassy. We’re on the road, rocking. I don’t give a flying fuck.” You know? I could see it.

Another thing I love about John. You need that guy on your team, whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish. That when people are being bitchy, you tell them to fuck off and you leave. I bet Paul, George, and Ringo were so relieved that John did that for them.

After Ringo talked about not wanting to be back behind and separate from the band, I’ve noticed all three of them stepping back sometimes to stand more in line with him when they’re not singing. I don’t know if it was conscious or natural, but either way, I love that they did that and I’m sure Ringo did too.

The looks and smiles

I usually maintain that Paul is only sexy from 60-61 and from 68-98 and from 18-now. But. This is just objectively hot, I don’t care who you are.

It’s so sweet to see George being such a ham, getting John to do silly bits with him, putting on a waiter’s uniform and passing out drinks, climbing up in the luggage compartment. I wish they could’ve somehow kept it at a pace that was manageable for him so he could’ve kept on being so happy with his life, you know? I mean it’s not like it just disappears completely. There’s some of it in Get Back and even in Anthology, but it’s just not the same.

This is what happens when you’re a slut, Paul. You get paternity suits that ruin your mood. Shame, shame.

Interesting that Paul points out Brian’s “defying convention” by having them play their scandalous rock and roll shows in all these “hallowed halls”. I’d never thought about it as Brian’s conscious decision but obviously it must’ve been, and that’s very clever and snarky of him.

“That man, who is strong enough to be gentle, that is a new man.” Betty Friedan is pro-beatle. We love to see it!

Watching Paul try to behave like a human being on stage with all of his early twenties energy is honestly painful. It’s like Kurt Vonnegut’s Harrison Bergeron, you know? Like I can just see him aching to let himself free, but there are weights put in place for a reason. I know Brian was right to calm them down, and this documentary is proof that if he hadn’t done his taming, either they never would’ve made it or there would’ve been all-out class warfare or something, but it breaks my heart, it really does.

Ronald Isley, again, just like Smokey Robinson, being so so charitable here, and managing to do so without playing down the fact that things were absolutely rigged against him and his group at the time. “We should be on the Ed Sullivan show doing . . .” Yes. Yes.

I looked it up, and this quote is genuine. “If it wasn’t for the isley brothers, we would still be in Liverpool.” – Paul McCartney. That’s one thing I love about him. He’s always giving – very much due – credit to his black contemporaries. People ask him about Elvis and he always says, “yes, and Little Richard.” People say he was the most innovative bass player of his time and he says, “yes, and Fred Thomas.”

Ringo literally gets me every time. George: I don’t remember Wales. Ringo: It was before you joined the group.

The way Paul talks about George living “the good life” is very much in the tone of an older brother who’s helped his little brother do well for himself, you know? It’s adorable.

Of course Paul’s out feeding seagulls.

Not even going to comment on the “i love you” thing. Nope.

Okay I do have to say, the end of this guy’s story about going to liverpool and getting deported is incredibly sweet. I was kind of ignoring him, and then when he said he met John during Imagine, I sort of braced myself. But it turned out absolutely adorable. I love John’s little antenna miming and that he promoted this guy just for having made the front page of the Liverpool Echo. It’s all very John, very endearing.

I hope Paul and this weepy old guy had a talk about healing yourself from abuse through music. There’s like a 1/100 chance, but I still hope they did.

John loves a good boat analogy, doesn’t he? “There was a ship going to discover the new world. And the beatles were in the crows nest on the same ship [as everyone else] and we just said ‘land ho!’

Love the use of “Roll Over Beethoven” as the final song.

[m-neuvillette]

Where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me!

Oliver Aiku, Sae Itoshi, Tetsuro Kuroo, Kotaro Bokuto, Kojiro Nanjo (Joe) x fem reader

Small scenarios of my favorite athletic anime boys to this Taylor Swift song <3

Oliver Aiku

Since the Blue Lock project was completed and viewed as a success the new Japan National team was created. Oliver staying as its star defender and captain.

Oliver has really enjoyed playing with the Blue Lock boys. He is also happy they are on his team and he gets to lead them to become the best soccer players he knows they can be.

Now here they are, the World Cup. The Japan National team has made it all the way to the championship game. Oliver takes a deep breath and looks at the scoreboard. 1-0 with one minute left. They are winning. They are so close to the win he can almost taste it.

Japan has been outplaying the other team this entire game. Oliver is now just watching his offensive line pass the ball around to kill time on the clock. He is so antsy right now, he can stop from jumping up and down a bit.

3…2…1… *buzzer noise*…. The crowd is going wild and is so loud. But everything seems so quiet to Oliver. He can’t believe it, it feels so surreal. He accomplished his dream. HE AND HIS TEAMMATES DID IT!!! Oliver then looks around to see his teammates coming to run back to the defensive line to celebrate.

While the team celebrates on the field you and other family, friends, and lovers of his teammates head to the field. You’re sadly toward the back of the group but you can’t even seem to care because Oliver accomplished his dream.

The group gets to the field and the team pulls apart from celebrating with each other to find their loved ones. Oliver is looking around to try and find you. He’s just buzzing to get you in his arms. He realizes the crowd is breaking up and sees you towards the back. Without a second hesitation he runs towards you.

You really want to push these people out of your way to try and find Oliver but they are in the same boat as you so you impatiently wait until the crowd breaks up. They finally start to break into group and you turn to your left to see Oliver sprinting towards you.

Oliver gets to you and before either of you can say a word both he has a hand on the back of your head and pulls you into a deep kiss. He puts his other hand on your lower back to pull you closer towards him. You quickly wrap your arms around his neck wanting him even closer.

Oliver breaks the kiss and leans down to connect your foreheads. He just stares at you with so much love and excitement. You smile back at him starting to cry, “Congratulations Oliver!! You accomplished your dream. I am SO proud of you baby.”

Oliver wipes your tears, “Cmon baby, you’re going to make me start crying.” It’s true you can see his eyes start to water, “I couldn’t have done this without your support. I cannot thank you enough for being for me this entire tournament and here right now. I love you so much baby.”

You quickly respond, “I love you more Oliver.” Oliver then pulls you into the biggest, warmest and tightest hug you guys have ever shared. Oliver may have just accomplished his dream but you’ll still always be his favorite trophy.

Sae Itoshi

You and Sae were childhood friends. You two were super close because you were the only other person Sae could stand besides his younger brother. It broke your heart when your friend told you that he was leaving for Spain.

You had the biggest crush on Sae your entire childhood and it only seemed like those feelings grew once he left. Little did you know Sae was in the same boat.

So after two years of being in Spain he called you one night begging you to come to Spain to be with him. You weren’t exactly close with your parents or had anything tying you down to Japan so you quickly agreed. And the rest is history.

Here you are now watching Sae play in a tournament with a bunch of different teams in it. His team made it all the way to the championship and you couldn’t be more excited. Sae has gotten two assists and has been playing perfectly.

Sae doesn’t show it but he’s so excited. They are up 5-1 with 10 seconds left. It’s a guaranteed win. The buzzer goes off indicating the game is over and that he and his team won.

Sae goes to celebrate with his team but he isn’t super close with them so he more or so sticks to high fives compared to hugs. He is just waiting till you come down to the field because in all honesty he wants to celebrate with you.

You couldn’t stop crying he accomplished one of his many soccer dreams and at a young age too. You don’t even hesitate to run down to the field to find him. Once you get down there you make eye contact and see he has been waiting for you.

Sae really only runs for soccer but you’re the exception. He is sprinting towards you. Once he gets to you he pulls you into a bone crushing hug. He is quick to ask, “Why are you crying?”

You tell him, “Sae, you accomplished one of your dreams!! And I got to see it at the same time. I am SO proud of you.”

Sae pulls back to wipe your tears and looks at you like you are the only person in the world. “Thank you beautiful. I couldn’t have done this without you being here with me. I love you.”

You respond instantly, “I love you too Sae. More than you can imagine my superstar.”

Sae smiled and leans down to give you a kiss putting so much love behind it. Sae knows there is so many opportunities for him in Spain but he sees so many more opportunities with you.

Tetsuro Kuroo

You met Kuroo your first year in chemistry. Your assigned seats were by each other and you guys instantly connected. He convinced you early into your first year to become the manager for the volleyball team and you don’t regret joining.

At the end of your first year Kuroo asked you out and you two have been dating ever since. You’ve watched Kuroo grow from a loud and passionate first year into a strong captain (who is still loud and passionate).

You and Nekoma are currently at the nationals entry game against Noehbi. Kuroo was talking to you about the game last night about how bad he wanted to go to nationals his last year of playing. All you wanted was to have that happen.

This game is frustrating to watch because Noehbi’s cheating is really making everyone mad. That doesn’t stop Kuroo from cheering everyone on. Everyone started to get on edge once Yaku gets hurt.

You saw Kuroo run to him right away to try and help. You know Kuroo is stressed but he isn’t showing it. You know he has a deep trust in his team and won’t let this game end in a loss.

You see the boys work together and pull off the win. Everyone is cheering while the team is celebrating. As much as you want to run to Kuroo and celebrate you know to give him time with his team.

Kuroo was exhausted from the game but that didn’t stop him from running around and celebrating that they are going to nationals. After he is done hugging the team he turns to face you.

He gives you a soft smile indicating that he can celebrate with you now. You are tearing up because of how proud you are of them but also because you know that this is the final stretch of the third years.

Once you stand up indicating you’re ready to celebrate he crosses the court with ease right to you. Kuroo places his forehead against yours. He sees your tears and goes to kiss them away then quickly kisses your lips. “Darling don’t go crying on me now, we are suppose to be celebrating.”

“Sorry Kuroo, I’m just so happy and proud. You got to go to nationals one last time. That is also making me sad because it’s our last time as manager and captain.”

Kuroo lets out a couple of tears and pulls you into a hug to whisper into your ear, “Thank you. We have one more last page to write in this part of our lives but I have a whole future planned with you so don’t worry. I love you darling.”

You whisper into Kuroo’s ear, “I love you too my captain.”

Kotaro Bokuto

You met Bokuto through Akaashi. Akaashi took you as an apprentice journalist to see what the routine of one looks like. Bokuto gave Akaashi an extra ticket to have you come and get a good seat.

Once Akaashi introduced you to Bokuto the story wrote itself. Bokuto was quick to ask you to be his girlfriend and you have been to every game since.

This game is really important to Bokuto today because this is the one to indicate the best men’s professional team in Japan. He is playing against and with a bunch of people he grew up with.

You know he’ll have a fun time playing but you also know he wants to win. You’ve seen his excitement all day today and you can’t wait to see that on the court.

You sat next to Akaashi during the game and met a lot of Bokuto’s friends from high school. It makes you happy to know a lot of people are excited and happy for him. He truly is one of a kind.

The game goes on, the teams are neck to neck. One team will take the lead then the other will and it’s a cycle like that. But in the end Bokuto’s team ended up winning.

You make your way down to the court with the rest of Bokuto’s friends. You stay behind though so Bokuto can see his friends first since he hasn’t seen a good amount of them for years.

Bokuto had another idea though. Once you all got to the court and he didn’t see you at the front of the group he pushed through the group to find you.

Once he finds you he smiles and picks you up by the waist and spins you around. He’s laughing and staring at you with so much happiness. Bokuto yell, “SWEETHEART WE WON!!! DID YOU SEE IT!?! DID YOU SEE MY INSANE SPIKES?!?”

You giggle and hold onto his shoulders. You yell back, “YES PRETTY BOY I SAW!!! YOU PLAYED AMAZING, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!!!”

Bokuto slowly puts you down and leans down to give you a kiss. He gives you a hug. “Well I only did so good because I had my lucky charm here watching.”

Later that night Bokuto gave you a necklace with his number on it so you can wear it to games to show off that you’re his lucky charm.

Kojiro Nanjo (Joe)

You’ve known Joe and Cherry since high school and once they created S they always invited you to come and watch them skate.

After a guy at S got too close to you and made you uncomfortable one of them is always with you. One time while Joe was skating you told Cherry you had feelings for Joe but had no idea how to tell him. Cherry ended setting you two up because he knew Joe also had feelings for you.

Joe stopped all his playboy habits once he knew he had a chance. He ended up becoming the picture perfect boyfriend.

Ever since the tournament Adam held, tournaments became a regular occurrence. S tried to make different tournaments to highlight different types of skating. This tournament that was going on now was a strength and speed tournament. Meaning it was perfect for Joe.

The final match was between Joe and Shadow. Joe and Shadow come up to the group and everyone wishes them luck even though Joe won’t need it. Miya is quick to say that too which causes everyone to laugh and Shadow to have a meltdown.

They then go to line up and start the beef. Once they start skating you and the group head down to the finish line.

Joe is in the lead and Shadow is having a hard time catching up. Everyone expected this to happen but you are still so excited to watch Joe skate. He really is a different person when he is skating. You can see how much love he has for it when he is doing these tournaments and it’s so much fun to watch.

They are starting to get closer to the finish line and Shadow has no hope in catching up now. Joe makes it to final stretch and only pushes himself to go faster. Once he crosses the finish line he quickly jumps off his board and jogs right over to you.

Joe picks you up in a hug and gives you a passionate kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss. Once your tongues move in a dance, Cherry hits him on the back to make you two stop. Joe tightens his hold on you to make sure you don’t fall. “I get you guys love each other but there’s a crowd.”

Joe puts you down but still is hugging you and glares at Cherry, “I don’t care you douche. I am here to collect my reward.” Joe turns his attention back to you and smiles down at you. “Hey there pretty girl, did you enjoy the beef?”

You wrap your arms around his frame and put your chin on his chest to look up at him, “Hi handsome. I did enjoy watching you skate. You were amazing out there as always. Congratulations my champion.”

Joe winks at you then gives a little quick kiss to your forehead, “How about we celebrate a little more after this?” You agree and Joe drags you off to his motorcycle to head back to his place for the rest of his reward.

[archivists-decay]

I've been playing Great God Grove from @limbolanegames over and over again recently (If you're seeing this, go give @yugsly and @daylane some serious love! It's a wonderful experience) and I have a very tiny headcanon that the ascended gods actually have very little influence over the world in the traditional "god power" sense.

Some story and ending spoilers under the cut.

My headcanon is that they have some influence, like Miss Mitternacht's crying leading to flooding, Cobigail's vines (which, I'm not entirely sure were even intentional to begin with,) but rather, the benefit of Godhood comes from being given immortality (read: an infinite amount of time to further develop a skill) and notoriety (read: everyone believing you are THE subject matter expert of the namesake you embody).

When Bauhauzzo talks about being only being able to assist you in BuzzHuzz with his voice, I don't think that's just because he's "only" the God of Memory – I think it's because that's about the extent of their greater influence as gods.

Their eternity spent honing their crafts makes their opinions on the subjects infallible to the people - even if we know they aren't.

Click Clack's last few scripts have been terrible? Well, we think they suck, but we have to get them to post anyways – he sees something we don't.

Bauhauzzo wants innovation banned from BuzzHuzz? Seems out of character, but he's remembering something we don't.

Their voices, or what the people believe are their voices, are listened to with reverence when it comes to their field of mastery — and I think that's one of the reasons King might have said some things to Inspekta that he interpreted as "disrespectful."

In the 30+ years of his godhood, Inspektas ideas of Leadership have clearly severely regressed from his time as a human – mostly due to his insecurities, granted – but he didn't spend any of that time polishing up what leadership meant, or helping others grow in their own leadership, instead, resting on his laurels of being adored and keeping his men down so that they continually lift him up. King probably caught on to this and tried to have a heart to heart with him, one that just...was poorly received.

My headcanon makes me think that, tragically, Inspekta had the potential to become one of the most influential and beloved gods in the grove overtime anyways if he had spent as much time working on his genuine leadership as he had plotting and being envious of the others. Not being tied down to a specific location in the grove, having a loyal group of activists willing to spread his ideas about leadership, on top of his skillset being just, a really good general aptitude that anyone can benefit from. Just some thoughts.

Addendum: Also, I think it's interesting that it almost seems like mortals have more power over the pantheon in this Universe. Sure, the gods close the rift, but the rest of the time? Mortals can exile (Huzzle Mug), abandon (Cobigail was left alone for 20 YEARS), and twist the words and intentions (Pretty much everyone) of the gods like it's nothing with very little consequences from the gods themselves — it's a refreshing approach to a fictional mythology and something I'd like to see explored more in fiction.

Anyways, thanks for letting me ramble! I've been thinking about these silly queers all week.

[sitepathos]

I'm curious, how do you think the batfamily would react when they found out that reader's a sweet tooth? (Alfred already know, obvs. The man probably have fed him so much sweets before reader moves out)

You lived in Wayne Manor for over 10 years with Alfred’s cooking filling your belly, so yeah, it’s safe to say you have a sweet tooth, your favorite being his award-winning cookies.

Alfred’s really slick, so he’d be very methodical about gaining entry into your house, his deserts being the perfect way to grease the door.

First, he started calling you on a regular basis, constantly slipping baking into the conversation, making your mouth water and cry out for his sweets.

After a few days, he’d say he went too crazy on baking and made too many deserts to eat himself (the rest of the family is being punished for allowing you to be kidnapped and nearly killed, with being left to fend for themselves food-wise being among the punishments).

Just as he planned, you tell him you’d really like to eat his baking (just as he planned) and he says he can use Bruce’s jet to fly to Nevada and the two of you can catch up and eat at your house.

Of course, you try to dissuade him, saying that’s completely unnecessary, but he insists, sweetening the deal (pun intended) by saying he made the jello cake from the Fallout Show with you in mind.

As he expected, you agreed to it and told him you’d pick him up from the airport, but only after he promised you that he was the only one coming, to which he agreed (he’s trying to bring you home and your father and siblings are only making things worse).

You’re blown away be the amount of desserts he brought, all neatly packing in boxes of various sizes, ranging from small enough to be carried by one hand to so large, you need a cart to carry it (but with the Megamycete, you’re more than capable of carrying it).

When he enters your house, he makes sure to complement how clean it is and how you decorated it (your father and siblings could really learn a thing or two from you).

As you two eat, he talks about how empty the manor’s been since you left and how much he misses you, to which you respond that you miss him as well, but you’re really happy to be back in Goodsprings and you’ve definitely improved since leaving Gotham.

As much as he wants to persuade you to come back home, or at least consider moving back to Gotham (he’d be more than happy to make Bruce pay for a penthouse apartment for you if it meant having you close), he knows it’ll take more than one day of talking and eating sweets to make that a reality and he’s more than willing to play the long game.

Still, he did have another objective coming here: finding your baby pictures (someone asked me about Alfred getting baby photos, so I decided to combine the two), so he finds a way to shift the conversation about your mother, wishing he could’ve met her before her tragic death.

Of course, you’re more than happy to offer to show him the pictures you put in storage (you’ve always been a sweet boy, so helpful) and he takes you up on your offer.

After showing him a few pictures of just her prior to your birth, he laments that you look just like her and how cute you must’ve looked as a baby and how he wishes he was there to welcome you into the world, leading to you pulling out your Baby’s First Photo Album, featuring pictures of your pregnant mother to her holding you in her arms after giving birth to you.

This album is a treasure trove to him, giving him glimpses into moments of time that your father should’ve been a part of.

That he should’ve been a part of.

He can’t help but tear up when you get to the part where you took your first steps, walking towards the person holding the camera, most likely your mother.

He manages to get you to leave the room to get him a tissue because he forgot his handkerchief (it’s a lie, he never leave the manor without at least two of them) and while you’re gone, he gets to work.

You’d no doubt notice if pictures from this album went missing after he left, but he can get out his phone and take pictures of these photos.

Until you return home (and all your pictures are placed in the Wayne Family archives where they belong), these crude pictures will have to tie him over.

He’s quick to take pictures of everything, including pictures of your mother because even if she and Bruce never married, she’s still part of the Wayne Family (and he’ll die on that hill).

When he returns home, he tells them that he managed to enter your home no problem and in fact, you welcomed him with open arms (part of their punishment is having to listen to him gloat, making all of them feel even worse).

Things only escalate when he nonchalantly tells them that he not only saw your baby photos, but that he managed to take pictures of them.

They beg, they plead, they barter (Bruce is the worst of them, throwing away all his dignity), but he refuses to let them get even a glimpse of them.

These pictures are meant for him.

They’ll just have to wait until you return home to see the originals.

And in the meantime, he’ll make sure to emphasize how adorable you looked as a baby every chance he gets.

[dirty-jammies]

Office Supplies 📝📏

(Silco X reader smut, no pronouns used (slut and whore are used, reader has a vulva, vaginal sex, chest/nipple touching), BDSM (dom top Silco, sub bottom reader), degradation, possessive behaviour, reader is a brat, impact play (spanking, slapping), wax play, bondage, aftercare, desk sex, body writing, basically an inappropriate use of office supplies lmao)

As one of Silco's best employees (his favourite, in fact... though that fact stays between the two of you, it's fairly obvious to the other employees), coming into his office late at night was a regular occurrence. Whether you were giving him the reports of the day, getting a new assignment, or even just sharing a drink and a conversation, you often found yourself in that office. The wide window behind his desk giving you a perfect view of the Undercity.

Though, at the moment, you were unable to enjoy the view as much as you usually did. A cry came from your mouth, though it was far from unpleasant.

Reports, assignments, and chats over drinks were nice...

But they weren't what made you Silco's favourite employee.

You cried out again into the paper on Silco's desk as another welt was added to your ass, the wood of Silco's yardstick creaked in his grip as he wound back for another strike. You whined high in your throat, wanting to reach back to soothe the pain, you could tell your ass was getting hot and red and swollen. 

Just how the boss liked it.

Just how you liked it.

Silco was already panting with exertion as he laid out a few more swift cracks of the yardstick.

"Say it again." He commanded, stepping around to the other side of the desk. Through your teary eyes, you watched him wring his hands around the yardstick, his arms exposed, as he had swiftly rolled up his sleeves once he understood you were in need of some punishment. The sight of those perfect hands and arms of his distracted you, and he narrowed his two-toned eyes at you before using the tip of the yardstick to tilt your head up to look at him.

"Do not make me repeat myself again."

You took in a shuddering breath before you sobbed, "I'm sorry sir!" You sniffed.

"For what?" He prodded. His eyes flicked up as your wrists flexed behind your back, bound in his silk tie. He looked back down to your face, "Colour?"

You sniffled a bit before smiling, "Green. I'm sorry for suggesting I seduce Finn so I could kill him for you." Your voice came out clear enough for Silco and he rewarded you with a smile and long fingers threading through your hair. Those calloused fingertips brushed against the bitemarks he left on your neck earlier.

"Very good. And why was that such a bad suggestion?" Silco tilted your head back to look up at him directly. 

He towered over you, and you knew he was letting you choose how the night would play out. Either he rewards you with something nice, or... you could try and get more delicious punishment out of this. You swallowed thickly before answering, "Because Finn would fuck me better than you?" You gave a challenging grin.

Silco's nostrils flared and you internally cheered. More punishment it was!

Silco wrenched your head back by your hair and you cried out in pain.

"What was that, slut?"

Silco's hand met your cheek faster than you could see and you whimpered at the sting. He tossed the yardstick to the side with a clatter and, grabbing your shoulders, he roughly flipped you over. You winced as your sore, welted ass met the cold, hard wood of his desk and your wrists were pinned under you; you squirmed and tried to sit up, but Silco's harsh voice barked at you and made you freeze. 

"You stay where I put you, or I'm throwing you out in the street as you are, bound and naked."

You heard a drawer opening and a few items being placed on the desk. Silco stepped around to face you and you looked to see him holding yet another item he intended to torture you with: a pair of metal paperclips.

"Stick out your chest, slut." He ordered, voice cold, "I am going to ensure that this brat behaviour of yours never returns. Ensure that I will be the only one to play with your whorish body."

You straightened your back, your nipples already erect from the cold air of the room and your arousal already pooling between your legs. He reached out and pinched your left bud between the metal loops of the paperclip, his face stoic as you whimpered at the sting and the cold metal. He repeated the action to your right nipple and stepped back to look at you. His gaze trailed up and down your body with a stern look.

He reached over and procured the next item; if he noticed your shiver of eager anticipation, he didn't mention it. 

"Spread your legs for me," he commanded, uncorking a glass bottle of fountain pen ink. He wasn't holding a pen, however, he was holding one of Jinx's paintbrushes she occasionally left around the Last Drop. He dipped the fine bristles into the bottle and extracted it slowly, ensuring no ink spilled on his expensive rug or the clothes he still wore.

You spread your legs obediently, "I'm sorry, sir, I-"

"You had your chance to apologize already," Silco cut you off and your breath hitched as you felt the cold ink be smeared on the sensitive inside of your thighs. You shivered at the slightly ticklish, erotic sensation of the brush and ink on your skin, knowing it would take multiple showers before it washed off completely. The swirl of an S, the long lines of the I and L, you knew exactly what he was writing.

He paused after he finished his name, "What would you prefer, 'Silco's pet'? 'Silco's slut'?" As if you actually had a choice, "No, perhaps simply my name will do to deter anyone who thinks they can touch what belongs to me."

"You got a label maker in that desk of yours?" You taunted as the ink cooled and seeped into your skin.

Silco paused for a moment and hung his head with a faint sigh, and you internally laughed.

"Please cease being silly and take your punishment," he reached out and pulled on the paperclips, making you squeak.

"Yes sir!"

Pleased by your response, Silco reached out to your chest again, this time with the paintbrush. You jumped and hissed as the cold ink met your nipples. Silco decorated your chest in the ink, a sensation that felt sensual and sweet, but the words he was writing were anything but sweet (Well, maybe they were sweet in their own way).

"Mine... toy... whore..." Lust dripped off of Silco's words as he wrote each one, the ink staining your skin and the brush's soft bristles making you shiver. He trailed the wooden end of the brush down to your stomach, right over the place he always seemed to hit when he was fucking you. He hummed as he re-corked the ink and set the bottle and the brush aside, "No... ink will not suffice for how I wish to mark you here."

You squirmed in anticipation, looking around to see what he could possibly use to mark you more than obvious black ink. As if answering your unspoken question, Silco produced his lighter from his pocket and picked up a dark red, finger-sized cylinder from the desk. You felt a bead of sweat roll down your temple. You recognized that shade of red. It adorned many of the letters you were tasked with delivering to Silco's associates: Sealing wax.

You laid back and tried to keep still as Silco flipped his lighter open and flicked it on, holding the flame up to the cylinder of wax and letting it melt. His hands were held out over your soft stomach, and you both watched as the first few drips of wax fell. You let out a gasp at the sensation, but you didn't dare move. You just let out whines and sighs as you felt the drips of dark red wax pool on your belly. It was hot, but it couldn't compare to the rest of the heat flooding your body at the delicious, methodical torture your lover was bestowing upon you.

Your fidgeting at the heat alerted Silco as a drip of wax rolled down the side of your belly and onto some of the paper on his desk and you heard him click his tongue, "Tsk, bear with it a little longer, whore... don't forget why you're being punished!" he snapped and pulled something from a small pocket on his vest. He twirled it between his long fingers and you saw it glint in the low light from the window.

You saw a flash of his teeth as he grinned, swiftly pressing the seal into the wax and you groaned at the pressure and the heat. He pulled it back and admired the view. His seal, right under your navel.

"There... do you think you've been sufficiently claimed now?"

That was bait. You knew it was bait, another opportunity to be a brat. Now though, as you embarrassingly felt your arousal pooling under your thighs, the ink spelling out his name there still a bit damp, you wanted more, you wanted to be rewarded.

You shook your head and spoke to him, voice trembling, "N-no, sir..."

Silco let out a low laugh, "No? You do have a point, I can certainly see one place of yours I haven't marked as my own tonight..." He reached out and spread your cunt, letting out a hum as it twitched and leaked, finally getting some attention, "And who do you want to fill you up here?"

You smiled and looked up at Silco, squirming in need, "You, sir... Please, sir, fuck me!"

"Very good," Silco smiled darkly down at you. He set the wax aside and pocketed his lighter. His fingers found the metal buttons on his pants and you felt yourself clench around nothing as he pulled his cock out. It was already rock-hard from him doling out your punishment and seeing your pathetic state. He gave himself a few long strokes, knowing you loved watching him touch himself, "This will teach you to never think of anyone else..."

He stepped forward and you let out a pleased noise as his heavy cockhead kissed your entrance. He dragged it around your cunt, getting it wet, "You're drenched already," he remarked with a lustful smile, "If I didn't know any better, I would think you enjoyed your punishment."

You whimpered as he kept prodding your clit and you looked up beseechingly at him, "O-only because, i-it was from you, sir... please...?"

A bark of laughter, "Good answer."

Silco pushed into you, drawing a loud groan from both of your mouths. His hands held on to your hips, his sharp nails digging into your soft flesh as he started a brutal pace, the desk creaking under it. The creaking sound was barely heard, though, over your ragged moans, the wet, sucking noises of him fucking you, or the breathy, filthy words he rambled off as he railed you.

“Pretty little whore, taking all of me,” you could tell he was watching the wax on your belly, bearing his official seal bouncing with his rhythm, “All mine, aren’t you? Tell me, who fucks you this well? Who fucks you better than anyone else in the world?”

“Silco!” You cried as he hit a spot inside you that made you see stars. Your body had experienced so much painful pleasure already, the bliss of him finally fucking you made your whole body sing. Your ass was still sore, the painful heat radiating as your ass was rocked back and forth on the desk, your nipples were starting to go numb and were harder than they’ve ever been, and the slap on your face was still stinging, brought back when Silco reached out to caress your face.

“That’s right, only I can please you, only I can see you like this,” his thumb bullied its way into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. You could tell you looked fucked out already. You felt him flex inside of you; he really did love seeing you wrecked and fucked-out, “You want to prove you’re mine?” You nodded, eyes rolling in pleasure as he thrust harder and harder, “Then come, come on my cock and take all of what I give you.”

Your back arched and you cried out as orgasm shocked through your body. Silco hissed as you tightened around him and he plunged as deep as possible into you, until you could feel him nudging the place inside you underneath his wax seal. You panted, coming down from your climax and you found yourself struck by Silco’s appearance. You basked in the sight of sweat dripping down his angular face, his dual-coloured eyes almost glowing with intensity, and how he gasped in his breaths as he worked himself up.

Your view didn’t last long, though, as he moved one hand to your clit and began rubbing it, fingers sliding with how slippery you were. Your head thrashed against his desk in oversensitive euphoria. He started up his pace again, somehow even faster and harder and deeper than before.

“What?” Silco’s raspy laugh was barely audible over the pounding of your heart in your ears and your own cries of painful pleasure, “You think that I would only let you come once? Not a chance. Be mine, be my lovely little toy and come again.”

“I- I can’t-!!” You whined and tried to squirm away from his jackhammer thrusts, but he swiftly slapped over your clit with a wet sound, making you cry out.

“You will.”

“You felt like you blacked out for a moment as a second orgasm was torn from your overstimulated body. Every part of your body seized, only Silco pinning you to the desk by your hips held you in place. You heard his broken moan and suddenly, he was cumming, too. His nails dug into your soft hips and you felt every single hot jet of his cum splash deep inside of you, painting your walls white.

You went limp against the table and stared up, bleary-eyed at his office’s ceiling. A hand entered your view and you saw long fingers, still shiny with your wetness, snap twice. You blinked, regaining clarity as you calmed down from your high.

“Lovely, are you with me?”

You smiled and closed your eyes at Silco’s gentle voice, still roughened by sex. You hummed as that hand came down to cradle your face, “Hmm… forever and always, I’ll be with you.”

“Silly,” he laughed softly and helped you sit up, cock still inside you, but growing softer. You winced slightly; the welts on your ass still burned when you sat on them, “I'll treat those in a moment. Was that to your liking?”

You nodded, coming down softly, "Yes, Silco, it was perfect..." you made a small noise and pouted as Silco finally withdrew. He chuckled and untied your wrists, bringing them to your front and kissing the red marks dug in your skin. You looked down at your body, bitemarks and ink and wax and welts. You took it upon yourself to remove the paperclips from your nipples and you smiled as you saw Silco's brows raise in interest at how red and puffy they became.

"They're a little numb at this point but you can play with them again later if you want," you teased, "I think I could use a shower, though."

Silco smiled and looked at his handiwork, "The ink will take a few washes to come off. I figured you wouldn't mind." he extended a hand and pulled you up on wobbly legs into his embrace.

"I don't mind at all. Once it fades, though, you should write some more!"

"Oh? You truly love belonging to me so much?"

"Of course I do, after all," you pulled away with an impish grin and looked down to faint black smears on his vest and pants. Mirrors of the words Silco wrote on your body, "You belong to me too~"

You managed to dash to your shared bathroom off to the side of the office before Silco could grab you for more punishment. You looked over your shoulder to see Silco grab the yardstick again, meeting your gaze with a dark grin.

[creepyclothdoll]

I set Angel Free

All of this is gonna sound pretty mean but let me preface this by saying that this girl, Angel, thought she was God’s gift. And I mean that in the most literal sense. Like she’d literally introduce herself by saying, 

“My name is Angel, because I’m a gift from Heaven.”

She’d say it with this smile that was so fake and sickly-sweet you could taste your teeth rotting just looking at it. All her mannerisms were stolen from disney movies, like how she’d talk in this high-pitched little girl voice that she thought made her seem so cute. Like, yeah, yeah, you’re supposed to be nice to people like that, but it was so hard to tolerate her. 

So we messed with her. It wasn’t because she was in a wheelchair, I wanna make that clear. I don’t have a problem with people in wheelchairs. Just Angel. You’d feel the same way if you knew her. Honestly everyone did. 

She literally didn’t know where babies came from. Like one time my friends were joking about having Nick Jonas’s babies and Angel was like “how would you make the baby his?” And we had to literally explain to her where babies come from and ask where she thought they came from. She said, and I quote,

“When a mommy makes a very special wish, and gives it a special kiss and sends it to God, God cuts a piece of Heaven in the shape of a baby and wraps it in the wish and sends it back to the mommy, to grow up and be loved and kept safe on the earth forever.”

This was, by far, the stupidest thing I ever heard in my entire life. So of course I responded by telling her her mommy was lying to her, most likely because she was a whore. 

This made everyone at lunch laugh really hard because her mom, Ms CJ, was the school’s frumpiest old cat lady, and she literally had those 80’s coke-bottle glasses like that guy from Trailer Park Boys and the idea of her getting sexed up for dollar bills was enough to make you piss yourself laughing. 

Angel started crying and doing that annoying pouting thing. Frankly I doubt she even knew what a whore was, just that it was bad. I think she wanted to storm off, but it’s not like she could go very far. Which I pointed out as well, to uproarious laughter. 

Okay again, I don’t have an issue with people in wheelchairs. It was just really easy to mess with her. But this was the incident that, for some reason, made everyone think of me as the Designated Angel Watchman. Like, any time Angel did anything weird and cringey, everyone would look at me like they were Jim from the Office and I was the camera. And then if I didn’t say something funny about it, they’d get all disappointed. But when I did say something funny, it became the new Angel Thing Of The Week that everyone would be saying in the halls between classes, and I’d feel like a genius. Did it go too far sometimes? Sure. But that’s not my fault. All Angel ever had to do was act like a normal person for once and it all would have stopped. 

Angel was homeschooled her whole life until seventh grade, which is probably why she was so weird. 

I wanna be clear– she wasn’t like, mentally disabled or anything like that. That would make me look pretty bad. She was just weird. She was always singing by herself– pop songs, disney princess songs, sometimes songs in japanese from anime. She was convinced she had the best voice in the class, and flaunted it all the time like she thought we were gonna be impressed. She wore these huge ugly cat sweaters with glitter and frills every single day. 

And any time we watched a movie in class, she’d laugh this awful snickering long laugh at ANY joke and then bawl her goddamn eyes out if there was even a little bit of a sad part. It was so annoying!

She refused to do anything outside her comfort zone– no scary stories, no new foods, no games she’d never played before. She turned her nose up at anything unfamiliar.

So let me be clear: Angel deserved most of what we did to her. 

But she didn’t deserve what I did that last day.

Before I met Angel, I thought Ms CJ was okay. After, though, I realized she was batshit. She only let Angel come to our school for seventh grade because she knew she’d be Angel’s homeroom teacher and that she’d be able to flit in and coddle her throughout the day. Ms CJ was Angel’s constant guardian, which should be humiliating for anyone who has shame, but Angel loved the attention. She’d beg Ms CJ to stay with her longer every time she popped in during class. And that sucked, because I couldn’t say shit about anything cringe Angel did when Ms CJ was around, so I missed a lot of really good opportunities to mess with her. 

Ms CJ always sat with her daughter at lunch, which was honestly bad parenting because there was no way Angel would ever be able to make any friends like that. Ms CJ never let Angel join the rest of us for recess. Or for field trips. Once during a group project in French class, as a joke, I invited Angel to a made-up party in the woods. Angel replied by saying,

“I can’t go if it’s in the woods, silly! My mommy doesn’t let me outside!”

She said this like it was the most normal thing in the world for her, so I asked some clarifying questions. She explained, in her girly sing-song voice, that she’s not ever allowed to be outside for more than a few seconds at a time, and only when her mommy is there to hold her hand. 

“My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost,” she said.

“It’s not like you can run away,” I joked.

“I can run,” Angel replied, pouting. “Look.” She kicked her legs slightly. I heard the clack of chains. 

That was the first time I ever noticed that Angel was shackled around her ankles. 

“I run all the time at home,” Angel bragged. “I run alllll over, over all the rooms. I wish I could run here too, but it’s too dangerous. The windows,” she added, like that would clarify it. I was baffled. So she didn’t even need the wheelchair.

“Um, why are you chained? Are you like, under house arrest or something?” I asked.

“No. My mommy just doesn’t want me to get lost. She’s the only one with the key.”

“Your mommy sounds like a psycho. You should call the cops,” I replied.

The French teacher overheard her crying and she got me sent to the principal’s office again. But I swear this time I wasn’t being smart or anything, I was genuinely freaked out for her. I told my friends, who all agreed with me that it was weird. But I guess I hadn’t been the first one to notice the chains. The others who had assumed it was because Angel was like, prone to fits or something. That made sense for Angel, but it still made me feel weird and didn’t sit right.

My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost.

I started to feel sorry for her. She was still weird and annoying, but she was weird and annoying because her mom was out of her mind and wouldn’t let her be a normal kid. How was she supposed to learn to be normal if she couldn’t even go outside, for god’s sake? 

I still messed with Angel when she did weird stuff like quote anime characters in class and bring stuffed animals to school. But if it was ever just her and me, I was nice to her and asked her stuff about her life. 

Her favorite movie was The Little Mermaid. No, she had never been to summer camp. Her favorite time of the week was church. She disliked onions and wanted to be a vegetarian except that her mom was very insistent about her getting enough protein in her diet. She loved those Warrior cat books and wanted to be a veterinarian someday. She didn’t have a dad. Ms CJ took the shackles off her ankles only once they were inside their house and all the doors and windows were closed and locked. That was also when Ms CJ took the locked metal bar off of her chair so she could get up. The bar went over her waist and prevented her from standing. She wore those big ugly cat sweaters every day so we wouldn’t see it. Her mom didn’t want people to know about her special condition, which, as far as I could tell, was all made-up. Any time I asked about her “condition,” she’d just say some stuff about being a very special heaven baby or whatever.

“Do you ever think about running away?” I asked finally. “Why don’t you just… leave?”

She looked shocked.

“Of course not!” she said. “I love my mommy. Where would I even go?” She shuddered visibly. 

The shudder pissed me off. I blew up at her and called her a whiny scaredy baby until she cried, and I got sent to the principal again. 

 She didn’t even want to be normal. That’s what pissed me off the most. 

It was springtime, and the snow was finally mostly gone. I’d been in Mr Bevends’ science class before, so I knew what to expect that day– first real nice day of spring was always a “class outside” day. We’d go out and look at moss and leaf buds and stuff and he’d talk about natural changes during the season. It was all a big excuse for us to get outside– no one liked it more than Mr Bevends himself. He was so excited to announce we were taking class outside, he didn’t even notice Angel’s face go stark white as he led the rest of the class out the doors.

“I– I can’t–” she stuttered, but I interrupted her.

“It’s the most beautiful day in months,” I said. “It’s a perfect day. You’ll love it.”

“I’m not allowed,” she whispered, embarrassed. 

“You wanna be a baby forever?” I said. “Come on. You’ve never broken a single rule in your life. Live a little.”

After a long moment, Angel nodded. She followed me out the back doors of the school, onto the sidewalk. I walked next to her for awhile. She looked scared, but also fascinated by the dripping icicles from the roof gutter above us, and the ice-blue sky above, and the rows of black trees stretching up into the air. 

“It’s cold,” she said. 

“Yeah, that happens when you’re outside for more than a few seconds.”

“I think… I like the cold.”

We caught up to the rest of the science class, and listened to Mr Bevends talk about leaves and crap. Angel oscilated between this vibrating excitement and a frightened, hunted look, like her mom was gonna show up at any second and punish her for disobeying and doing one normal thing in her life. Angel touched the trees reverently. My friends made fun of her for “fondling the foliage.” I didn’t join in this time. I had bigger things planned.

When we broke off into groups of two, I went with Angel. My friends knew I was up to something great then, so they followed us, chuckling eagerly. I grinned back at them when Angel wasn’t looking.

We were supposed to identify different types of trees in the woods behind the school. I helped push Angel’s chair up the hill– it was insanely heavy. The wheels snagged on the muddy grass, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like she actually needed the thing.

“What are you doing?” Angel asked with rising terror as I leaned over her and produced the key. 

Everyone knew Mr Bevends always had class outside the first nice day of spring. It was really easy to slip the key from Ms CJ’s lanyard when she always left it out on her desk during homeroom. It was the one with little white wings on the chain. 

“I’m setting you free,” I said. I unlocked the shackles around her feet first, then the bar around her waist. She screamed at me to stop the entire time, but I knew I was doing the right thing. Someone had to teach her to be independent. Someone had to throw her out of her comfort zone. 

And that’s what I did. I set Angel free.

Angel rose from the chair. 

And rose. And rose.

Her shoes went over her head. She kicked her legs wildly as they drifted rapidly upwards. Angel shrieked and tried to grab onto the top of the chair– the handles, even trying to clutch a handful of my hair– desperate to stay anchored to the ground. But it was too late. She was already six feet in the air. 

Then twelve. 

Then thirty.

I couldn’t do anything other than watch on in shock as Angel shot up into the sky like a helium balloon. She twisted and clawed at the open air. 

It happened in seconds. One second, we were watching Angel make frantic grabbing motions at the ground, howling with terror, and the next second all we could see of her was the glint of the sunlight on her glittery pink cat sweater as she disappeared up into the vast emptiness above.

When Mr Bevends came to see what was the matter, all any of us could do was to point up. But by then, she was just a pinprick against the deep, endless blue sky. 

Then there was nothing.

[verstappentime]

i’m tired and grumpy so here’s a glimpse at a deleted scene from divorce verse, this is charles’s POV after max has his crash.

He calls Daniel. More ringing. He keeps trying. He texts: please please please please say he’s okay please answer I need to know. Calls again. Ends the call after a few rings because Daniel isn’t answering and he can’t stand it. Texts: Please please is he okay is he okay is he okay and it looks insane, he knows he’s acting insane, but he just sends it because that is how he feels.

A read receipt pops up and his heart lurches. His chest is burning and he is actively trying not to throw up when Daniel calls. “Daniel. Daniel, say he’s not dead.” He sounds like he’s choking.

“He— No, he’s not dead,” Daniel says. He sounds tired and like maybe he’s going to cry too but he sounds certain.

The relief is so strong it makes him dizzy, and he presses the back of his wrist to his mouth but he can’t stop a sob from escaping.

“I’m sorry. I should have texted you,” Daniel says. “He’s going to be so mad at me.”

“Yeah, you should have. Shit.” He tries to breathe. Arthur rubs his back. “I’m coming to the hospital. I’m on my way. I texted him.”

“He doesn’t– have his phone. But I. Um. I’ll tell him. They said for his mom to just give his name when she went into emergency and they’d take her up. You’ve got to show ID and I have to say it’s okay. But I’ll say it’s okay.”

“He’ll want his phone,” Charles says. He’ll want to text and if he’s waiting a lot he’ll want to play 8 Ball or something so he isn’t bored. He keeps trying to make Charles play Badlands with him and they’re awful at it, but they could do that if it made Max feel better.

“I know,” Daniel says.

“Why didn’t he get out of the car?”

Daniel doesn’t answer. “Charles, listen, I have to go and give them your name.”

“Daniel.”

He still doesn’t. “Is someone with you?”

“Arthur is.”

“Give him your phone,” Daniel says wearily. “Have him delete everything. Instagram, Twitter, whatever.”

“Why–”

“You don’t want to see it, okay? I promise.”

[heartnanase]

scaramouche

i dont know what this is but my love life has been cooking recently so i decided to write again after months (i’ve been left on delivered for 16 minutes so you guys get angst)

“look seriously? don’t be like that— hey! wait! it wasn’t my choice! the fatui? i wanted you to be safe!”

“im getting married. deal with it.” you said while quickly walking, holding onto the sides of your heavy wedding dress, not even 3 minutes into putting on your outfit and you already regret wearing heels. “who? tartaglia huh?” he looked like a fool, you assumed he did at least. getting the courage to look at him was difficult. “it’s ajax.” you coldly say. you could picture his eye roll in your head as he mumbles a “whatever.” all you could do was watch his shadow in the corner of your eye trying to match your pace, while he reached to grab your hand. you angrily turn to him. “no! no just go! its been five years and now i’m just supposed to believe that you suddenly want me again?” all he can do is stare at your teary eyes, all he can do is chuckle. it’s weird, you had no clue why you were crying. was it cause the way he trims his hair now is different? was it cause his voice has changed, it sounds restless; was it cause it’s been so long? or was it because your heart still beats the same for him as it once did years ago. it didn’t matter how you felt anymore, you had a husband. well you will have a husband. so—

“listen okay? i just needed you to be safe” he cuts off your thoughts. scaramouche is nervous, he thinks he’s hiding it well with his smirk but he’s really not. you watch as he awkwardly try and fix his posture and grins at you, shoving his hands in his pocket hoping you didn’t notice his shaky fingers. you couldn’t stay here with him much longer, ajax would be furious. it’s not like you loved ajax, nor did he love you. it was a mutual agreement that your marriage would be perfect considering you and ajax both came from respectable families. however your dad always hated scaramouche, and you wish you listened to your father about how boys like him are pieces of shit. “you don’t get to decide that!”

scaramouche scoffs, “so what? what would that make me if i was the reason you died?” you slowly gulped as you both stood in science. he sighs and continues, “look i love you okay i still do and being away from you was one of the hardest things i’ve done!” you kinda always hoped the break up hurt scaramouche, even if it was just a little bit. you hoped that seeing you with someone else makes him bite his inner cheek. so it makes you feel better about drawing doodles of him. and making playlists dedicated to him. and learning the stupid piano just so you could play his favourite songs. “you have no right… no right to come back into my life!” your lip quivered, “it took me so long to fall asleep without you. do you know how difficult it is to eat with a heavy heart? maybe you didn’t kill me physically but the world stopped spinning the day you left so if you’re trying to come back the moment i’m starting to feel okay i’m not letting you.” of course you still loved him, but he was the reason why you put such restrictions on love. and now you cant even break your own rules, not even for him. scaramouche opens his mouth to speak but a voice calls out for you.

“hey! ajax is looking for you!” a guest you didn’t even know yelled from across the room. you look at scaramouche one more time before walking past him.