#and we had a LOT of funny pins
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ghostb0o · 6 months ago
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The group chat reacting after someone deleted our entire two-year+ long and very active discord channel of roleplay because she decided spontaneously to soft reboot the story:
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ratatatastic · 3 months ago
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"—in Game 7 when the puck is stuck in the corner...did that last forever? Were you like, 'Fuckin' McDavid's in front! McDavid's in front by himself!'" "Oh yeah, you wanna know why it lasted forever? So I was tired, so I'm like 'Fuck, I'm gonna change.' and there's 25 seconds left, I'd been out there for a minute-ten, I'm like, 'Let's make the smart fucking choice here, let me change. Get a fresh body out.' And Mikkola changed for me instead of Montour. And whether that was by design or not, that's two lefty defencemen with the mindset, 'let me get to that left side.' Forsling's already in there, then Mikkola comes straight off the bench straight into the pile, and then McDavid's alone out front. So we're all looking—for a second we're like, 'Holy shit, what's gonna happen here... hopefully Draisaitl doesn't make one of those ridiculous plays where he pulls it out of the corner and snaps it right to McDavid's stick.' But it ended up working out." "It worked out." "I know Jamie Kompon [Florida Panthers Asst. Coach] said that too, 'We had two left-shot defencemen out there at the same time. And like nobody is defending McDavid in front of the net.' But Mikkola—he did that a couple of times though! Where he just like all of a sudden, he was able to eat the puck along the wall to close out games." "Yeah, listen I don't blame him at all! For me as a right defenceman like..."
The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)
"You know, think about looking up at the clock and seeing—I think it was Connor [McDavid] and one other d-man [Ekholm] in front of the net when it was getting—fighting in the corner and we had nobody in front of the net! And we're all looking on the bench, we're like, '97's in the slot all alone...what are we doing here?'" "Best player in the world!" "It's funny looking at it now. I don't know who it was—Mikkola in the corner—he's like, 'That puck was not coming out, I can tell you that! I had that glued to the wall.' But yeah, you think about it now...the rest, it doesn't matter what the series was at—we won! And we're Stanley Cup Champions." "Exactly man!"
Empty Netters | 8.26.24 (x)
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*there were 2 dmen out by the net near McDavid he could either be referring to Ekholm or Bouchard in this instance but Ekholm is closer to the net
and also because i think its interesting after ekky's game 7 mikksy changing for him anecdote he talks about how he cant play on the left and refuses to do so its pretty good stuff XD
"I can tell this now! That's Sylvain Lefebvre [Florida Panthers Asst. Coach] our D-coach—called me when he got hired [2022.] So I'm on the phone with him, we're chatting and he's like, 'Would you ever play the left side?' I'm like, 'Absolutely not! That's a skillset I just don't have. I see the right side of the ice and that 200ft of rectangle on the right side of the ice. That's just kind-of where I'm comfortable.' So I'm like, 'No, please do not put me on the left side!' Yeah so..." "You can do it!" "That's the first conversation? 'Hey, listen! I've been thinking about some things, drawing some pairings out on a napkin—wanna put you on the left side.'" "'Want you to be goalie!'" "That's—No!"
The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)
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menagerofmischief · 14 days ago
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Nugget Update (MV1)
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sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates
driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist
cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)
wc: 4.1k
a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!
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“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.
Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”
Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.
Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.
“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”
“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.
“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”
You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily. 
Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”
“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”
“Is it working?”
“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”
Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”
“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling. 
“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”
“You look like a trash can threw you up!”
“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage. 
And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them. 
You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.
You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.
Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track. 
With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.
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With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.
You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”
“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”
Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”
“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”
“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”
You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”
“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.
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The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.
The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.
Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen. 
His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.
You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. 
Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.
At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.
Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around. 
Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.
Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.
He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room. 
“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”
“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”
“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.
“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.
Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.
He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”
You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”
“It is?”
You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.
You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”
“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”
“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.
Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”
“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”
Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks. 
“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.
“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.
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“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.
“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”
“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”
“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation. 
“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?” 
“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”
Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice. 
“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”
“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”
“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”
“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”
“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.
“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”
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You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.
His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”
Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.
The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.
“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”
“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”
“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”
He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.
His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.
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The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3. 
The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.  
Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room. 
You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair. 
“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”
“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”
You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips. 
“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”
Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.
Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.” 
“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”
Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”
“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”
“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”
You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”
“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”
You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”
“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.
You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out. 
Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.
“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”
“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go. 
“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks. 
“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders. 
Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”
“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”
His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
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“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”
“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”
You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face. 
Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.
The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need. 
You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.
“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.
“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.
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tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi
i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3
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koobiie · 10 days ago
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bestowing my highest honor as an artist to ffxv (drawing the characters in fun outfits)
thoughts under the cut
RREAAAGHHHH SO EXCITED TO BE DONE WITH THIS!!!!! it took me forevarrrr but i soldiered through as an act of love. now excuse me. yap time
OKAY SO the concept behind this was originally specific fashion subcultures for everyone!l ike noct emo ignis dark academia etc. but then decided i didnt want to pigeonhole it all and just freestyled outfits i thought would look nice on everyone
noct - i do think noct would still be emo-ish but also opt for comfy baggy stuff a lot. something you could just fall asleep in on the spot. note the details of bass pro shop shirt (of course) XV necklace, little moon + stars accents, carbuncle + fish keychains. i also wanted his metal band logo shirt to spell LUCIS but i forgor some letters but its not very readable anyways
ignis - ignit ooohghh ignos ignaurs. sorry i made him serve so much cunt it will happen again. i drew him first cause that kind of inspired this whole thing i love him so bad if i didnt draw it id explode. not much detail to note except his collar pins are like his double blade thingies
luna - lunaaa the concept was “clean girl aesthetic” idk if that happened but im actually really happy with how it came out! might be my favorite of the bunch just because she looks so pretty and happy. your honor she should have been able to just be a normal girl and just. chill
prompto - prompotoooo i had trouble picking his vibe!!! my first thought was techwear?? because weeheeeehee he loves tech and well... you know... but then i realized i didnt really like the look of anything i saw + it was so bulky and dark and serious for him! ending up going with some more youthful and baggy. i was considering something more loud and colorful but ended up not going with it. i feel like in canon he'd be too nervous to have such a flashy fit and would want to just look "cool" to fit in with the boys lol. itty bitty details here - chocobo keychain, pompompurin and bi miku buttons, and his lanyard is kings knight themed! i also thought it was funny to write LUCIS on his shirt like you know those shirts that just say BROOKLYN or TOKYO or SAN FRANCISCO and thats it. thats what its like
gladio - okay i know this is going to sound like a lie but im not horny for gladio like at all, hes my least favorite, i think he's just alright. but also i KNOW in my heart of hearts that he would LOVE being a leather daddy and so i had to make it happen. main detail to note here is that his tank top has the motifs of a cup noodle! i didnt know what else to add cause you know.. hes the cup noodle guy.. but also i didnt want it to be so in your face about it with a big as logo so kept it subtle!
(side note the leather daddy gave me an idea for a post where its like noct and prom go to a gay bar all nervous but then they run into gladio and its like "p: GLADIO YOURE GAY?" "n: nevermind that PLEASE dont tell ignis we snuck out" and then ignis walks up and theyre all like WHAT THE FUCK!!!! caption would be "the gang finds out theyre all bisexual." probably wont draw it but i think its very funny lol)
iris - iris my sweetheart.... definitely leaned into the scene vibes here and also that one image of the blonde emo anime girl. details here - of course the moogle big ass backpack and keychain (can you tell i love keychains), but also her buttons are an iris (the flower) and also a crown with hearts (haha symbolism)
anyways oh god i didnt mean to write an essay down here. usually i keep this in the tags but this time i just had Too Much To Say. can you tell i put a lot of thought and love into this . anwyays. *walks off into the sunset and fuckig dies*
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lovelytsunoda · 9 months ago
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give me a kiss (or three) // lando norris
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summary: matching clothes shouldn't turn lando on this much.
pairing: lando norris x female reader
warnings: smut, the worst description I have ever written, it’s a lil bit cringe. lando has a nickname for his dick, and a box of flavoured condoms in his bedside drawer. lowkey inspired by an audio posted by the wonderful @2-fast-2-curious. (I took a lot of creative liberties and added a ton of things, but the base idea is still there), there's more laughter than sex in here my dudes-
seeing lando norris wrapped up in the soft pink bedspread should not have warmed her heart the way that it did.
she had slipped out of the bed and ducked across the hallway to use the bathroom, and when she came back, her chest seized at the sight of her lover, his arms wrapped around the massive section of duvet that she was previously buried under.
she never thought she'd see the day, and she never thought she could feel this way about someone who felt the same way back.
she slowly began to dress, careful not to make any noise in the small bedroom. not only would she prefer not to wake her roommates, lando himself was a light sleeper and he needed to be well rested before they went to visit her parents that afternoon.
"sweetheart?" lando mumbled, messy-haired and groggy as he began to surface from underneath the duvet. "its so early, what are you doing awake?"
"i have to run to tescos, and then i have boxing at ten." she smiled softly, tightening the strap on her lacy bralette. "i wanted to let you sleep in. you'll need all your energy for the drive later."
lando snorted, sitting up straight, his curls matted by sleep and sticking to his skin. "there's no way you're wearing a bra that nice to your boxing class."
"i'll change when i get there." she chuckled, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.
the blankets shifted with the movement, falling away from lando's thighs to where his royal blue boxers hugged his skin. the man looked down, and then over to the matching set his girlfriend was wearing before he let out a laugh.
"what's so funny?"
"your bra matches my underwear." lando snickered. "we match. a perfect pair."
she couldn't help but join in with her lovers laughter and mirth, looping her arm's around his neck with a chortle. his skin was warmed against hers, which had rapidly cooled since she had emerged from her blanket huddle and into the winter air that filled her home.
"you're so cringe." she giggled, standing between his legs, the slight shade of difference between their underclothes making her smile.
he was right. they were almost a perfect pair.
"cringe? you think i'm cringe?" lando feigned hurt, squeezing her sides playfully. he kissed her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip as his hands roamed her lower body.
the kiss was passionate, yet playful, smiles evident on both of their faces (even when lando slipped his tongue into her mouth, earning a surprised shout).
"not as cringe as the time-" she stopped midsentence, whining as lando ran his tongue along the sweet spot on her neck before diving back in to kiss her. "you wore the monoply boxers."
"i thought 'wanna go to jail" was a great line!"
"yeah, for a fifteen year old boy!"
"it still worked, didn't it?" lando laughed, grabbing at her thighs to roll them over.
the duvet was soft and pillowy around her, bunched up just enoough around her that it narrowed her field of vision. all that existed in that moment was her and lando.
just the way she liked it. she loved it when they were silly like this, playful and sexy at the same time. an experience that felt so uniquely like the two of them and their love, and ensured that they never got tired of being intimate with each other.
"am i still cringe when i've got your wrists pinned to the bed?" lando smirked, his body a comfortable weight against hers, her wrists cradled against the goose down.
"i dunno." she smiled arching upwards to press her lips against his. "why don't we find out?"
lando grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "i like the way you think, but don't you have to go to boxing?"
"they won't miss me. i'm there three times a week as it is." she smiled, snaking one bare leg around his.
lando's touch was as familiar as her afternoon stretching routine. every brush of his fingertips against her skin made her feel powerful, like she could do anything. his lips were comfortable and warm against hers, yet new and exciting every time. lando's grip on her wrists let up, and she buried her fingers in his curls, tugging softly.
"fuck, babe. i love it when you do that." he moaned, lips dancing over the material of her bralette, tonguing at her peaked nipples.
"i know." she hummed, breath hitching. "oh, i love it when you do that."
"that's my girl." lando hummed, reverence in his eyes and a serene expression on his face as he continued to kiss across her collarbone, throughout the valley between her breasts. "you want my fingers, baby? want me to make you feel good?"
“please.” she keened, arching into him.
landos calloused fingers danced across her thigh, over the cluster of freckles that used to make her feel so insecure but he so dearly loved, reaching for the damp spot on her panties. his touch was feather light, running up and down her slit, barely applying any pressure at all.
“lando.” she breathed, making a show of spreading her legs wider for him.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” he hummed, tugging her panties to the side before dipping two fingers in with a moan. “all this for me? you’re so wet, love.”
“only for you.” she moaned, breath hitching as she dug her fingernails into landos shoulder blades, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat off her neck. “oh, baby.”
“such a good girl for me, taking my fingers so well.” he praised, using his free hand to guide her face towards his.
lando kissed her deeply, her hands moving to clutch his hair as his fingers fucked her deeper. every inch of her body was on fire with desire, pleasure pooling in her stomach, her lovers hard cock pressing against her stomach while he finger-fucked her to high heaven.
“oh my god, lando, fuck, I think I’m gonna-“
she didn’t have time to finish that thought before lando pulled his fingers out abruptly, making a show out of licking them off as she whined impatiently at her ruined orgasm.
“what the fuck, dude!”
lando just laughed, kissing her forehead. “payback, sweetheart. you called me cringe, so you don’t get to come.”
“fuck you.”
“I beleive you’re trying to.”
the room went awkwardly silent, so much so that you could hear a pin drop. and then, all at once, they both burst out laughing. the kind of laughter that makes your eyes water, your stomach start to hurt. Lando was laughing so hard that he dropped back onto the bed, bare chest heaving as he looked up at the ceiling.
“why the fuck did I say that?” he cackled.
“I don’t know!” she laughed back. “if it helps, I thought it was cute, and it really made me want to suck your dick.”
“yes, actually. that does help.” landos eyes brightened as she shifted his position, sliding his boxers down his legs. “little lando has missed your pretty face.”
“little lando? god I hate that you have a nickname for your penis.”
“we’ll, if you’re going to insult him like that-“
“shut up.” she breathed, kissing him with a smile. “do we have any of those flavoured condoms left?”
lando grinned. “watermelon or fruit punch?”
she slipped off the bed, foot tangling with the flat sheet as she crouched in front of the bedside table, digging through the drawer for the small red box, searching for the elusive fruit punch condom.
she had never been a fan of giving head. there was something about it that had always just icked her out, but lando made her want to try. she wanted to expand her horizons with him, not for him. it took a lot of trial and error, but they found a way: flavoured condoms. this way, it was more enjoyable for her as well as him. it was akin to a warm ice lolly, rather than a body part.
she deftly ripped the packaging open, sliding the rubber shield onto landos cock. she positioned herself between his legs, taking a few deep breaths before taking his cock in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and running her tongue up and down the shaft.
“oh my god!” lando moaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips. getting blown was always a treat for him, considering that y/n didn’t enjoy it all the time, finding it more stressful than it was worth. but every time she did it, he was reminded just how incredible she was at it.
it was a treat, one that he would savour until the end of time.
he bit his lip to stifle a moan, dropping his hand to the back of her head. he was big in her mouth, weighty against her tongue. she closed her eyes, sucking gently.
“god, you’re so perfect.” lando whined, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb on the side of her head. “taking me like such a good girl.”
she opened her eyes, chancing a look at the love of her life. she moaned at the sight of his rippling abs, body contorted in pleasure.
all because of her. she did that.
“fucking hell, honey. I think I’m gonna blow.”
lando came with a howl, hips stuttering as he came inside the condom sheath. she slipped off his cock quickly, leaving a trail of saliva behind as she made her way up his body to press a soft kiss to landos lips. using a handful of tissues, he slipped the condom off, balling it up and tossing it in the wastebasket. his breathing was heavy, but he was raring to go for more.
“sit on my cock, babe. ride me, please. I need it.”
she smiled, kissing him again. “now who’s the needy one?”
“shut up. do you want to come on my dick or not?” he joked, tickling her sides.
she playfully pushed him against the headboard before rooting around for another condom (a normal one, this time). she pressed the foil packet into lando's hand before getting to her feet and sliding off her soaked panties. she moved to take off her bra as well, but lando grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"keep it on, gorgeous."
and how could she argue when he was giving her puppy dog eyes?
she sunk down slowly, dramatically playing up her actions with some hair-fluffing and boob-primping. lando laughed underneath her, the sound distracting her from the sting as he stretched her out with his cock.
she shifted slowly at first, moving her hips in slow, torturous circles, biting her lip to stop a moan. her lover groaned, looking up at her with lust and reverence in his eyes.
"comfy?" he quipped, hands gently moving to grip her backside.
"very." she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
lando wasted no time in guiding her movements, lifting her up and down on his cock like it was no effort at all. her fingernails dug into his shoulders, small pants coming out in quick breaths as she bounced on his length.
"oh my god, lando." she whined. "you feel so good. so good, baby."
"that's my girl." lando hummed, dotting kisses along her collarbone, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her ass. "only i get to see you like this, make you feel this good." he growled "and you're doing so so well for me, love."
if lando were to explain what having sex with his girlfriend was like in two words, he'd probably say coming home. she was his safe haven. they fit together like a glove, always seemed to know what the other needed without saying a word. and if they spent more time laughing than actually having sex, or fi their sex was goofier than it was seductive? that didn't matter to him. all that mattered was that they spent that time together.
just two people in love, showing the other just how much.
every bit of praise made her skin break out in goosebumps. she could feel herself dripping onto lando's thighs, but she didn't care. she just wanted to be close to him. as close as physically possible. she arched inwards, leaning against his chest for support as lando stopped moving her hips, instead thrusting his up rapidly to meet hers, a strangled moan escaping her throat.
"that's it, princess. you don't need to do any of the work. lando's got you." he cooed, pressing kisses to her sweaty forehead, whispering words of praise in between moans and grunts. animalistic sounds that just turned her on even more, pleasure reverberating throughout her body.
her slender fingers came up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently. lando moaned softly, angelically, his head tilted backwards and his eyes closed. it was a heavenly sight as he leaned down to sew her lips to his, walls beginning to contract against his cock.
"fuck, lando, go faster. i'm so close, baby." she whined, feeling him pick up the pace, hugging her body closer. she matched his movements, circling her hips and reaching a hand towards her clit.
"you coming, baby? you gonna come all over my thick, hard dick?" lando crooned. "touching yourself for me? getting yourself off on my cock."
"lando, please." she breathed, fingers rapidly moving against her swollen bud. she could feel herself getting closer, the band in her stomach getting tighter. "make me come."
he kissed her hard, thrusting deeper, the room echoing with the sounds of his skin slapping against hers, his guttural moans as his head fell back against the pillows. she could feel him release into the condom, his dick shuddering inside her, the latex getting warmer as it filled.
that was enough to trigger her own release, her juices pouring out of her, running down lando's shaft and dripping onto his thighs. she came with a cry of his name, bracing her hands against the headboard. her limbs felt like jelly as she tried to ease herself off him.
"easy does it." lando spoke softly, his voice raspy (as it usually was after sex), his touch gentle as he eased her down onto the bed. "remember to breathe, there's still water on the nightstand from last night. finish the glass, darling." he kissed her forehead softly before stripping himself of the condom and wiping her legs up with a handful of tissues. "come here."
she smiled, placing the now-empty ikea glass on the nightstand before curling up against him, wrapping her naked limbs over his, pulling the flat sheet over their bodies.
"this was a much better workout than boxing." she smiled, resting her head on his chest. "you're more fun than the coach is."
"i should hope so. i need to give you a reason to keep me around." lando joked, kissing her forehead. "i love you, my darling darling girl."
"i love you too, my handsome boy." she smiled, leaning up to kiss him, trailing a hand across his face as they kissed softly.
"by the way, this doesn't absolve you of driving to my mum's later. and yes, we're still going."
"god damn it! she always sends home with so much crap, i can't fit it all in the mclaren!"
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @lorarri @userlando
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oldsoul007 · 24 days ago
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hope you like scary movies, cus you’re in one
a/n: I may or may not saw an edit…
ghostface!nicholas x reader
It was a quiet night in woodsboro , like it always is. I was a nanny for a little boy so I could get through college. My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and I glanced at the screen. Unknown Caller. I pressed declined but it repeatedly kept calling. Then the landline they had started ringing. I hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Hello?" I said, my voice cautious.
"Hello, y/n," a distorted voice replied. It sent a chill down my spine. "Do you like scary movies?"
I recognized the voice immediately. It was Ghostface, the infamous killer that terrorize my dad in 1996. But something felt off. There was a familiarity in the tone, beneath the distortion.
"Who is this? You’re not funny” Y/n asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Guess," the voice taunted. "Or maybe I'll just have to come find you."
My heart raced, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew this person. She thought about Nicholas and how he always played pranks on her. Could it be him?
"Alright, Nicholas," I said, calling his bluff. "Cut it out. I know it's you."
There was a brief silence on the other end before the voice changed, becoming softer and unmistakably Nicholas.
"You got me," he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I couldn't resist. I've been watching too many horror movies lately."
I let out a relieved laugh. "You really had me going there for a second. But seriously, you need to stop watching those movies."
Nicholas chuckled. "I know, I know. But hey, it got you to pick up the phone, didn't it?"
I shook my head, smiling. "Yeah, it did. But next time, maybe just send a text?"
"Deal," Nicholas agreed, his tone warm. As I hung up, I couldn't help but feel a mix of exasperation and affection for Nicholas. Even when he was being mischievous, he had a way of making me smile.
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I had been feeling uneasy for days. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. It started with strange noises outside my window at night and escalated to finding eerie notes left in places only I would notice. The notes were signed by "Ghostface," and they sent chills down my spine.
One evening, as I was walking home from work, I heard footsteps behind me. I quickened my pace, but the footsteps matched mine, growing closer with each step. I turned a corner and ducked into an alley, hoping to lose my pursuer. But as I looked back, I saw the unmistakable mask of Ghostface looming in the shadows.
My heart raced as I tried to find a way out. Suddenly, Ghostface lunged at me, pinning her against the wall. "Why are you doing this?" I cried, her voice trembling with fear.
The masked figure was silent for a moment before reaching up to remove the mask. To my shock, it was Nicholas, my boyfriend, standing there with a sheepish grin on his face.
"Nicholas? What the hell?" My fear quickly turned to anger. "You scared me half to death!"
Nicholas looked genuinely apologetic. "I didn't mean to frighten you that much. I thought it would be a fun Halloween prank. I guess I went too far."
My anger softened slightly as I saw the remorse in his eyes. "You think?" I said, still shaken. "You could have just told me you wanted to scare me a little, not make me think I was being stalked by a killer."
Nicholas sighed. "I'm really sorry, y/n. I just wanted to do something different, but I realize now it was a terrible idea. Can you forgive me?"
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Just promise me you'll never do something like this again."
"I promise," Nicholas said, pulling me into a hug. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."
As we walked home together, I couldn't help but feel relieved that the nightmare was over. But I also realized that Nicholas had a lot to learn about what constituted a "fun" prank.
“I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with ghostface” “babe it’s Halloween losen up!” He said as we walked hand in hand.
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I had always felt a chill in the air around Halloween, but this year, it was different. I had my boyfriend, nicholas. He was charming, funny, and had a smile that could light up the darkest night. Everyone loved him. But there was something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
One evening, me and nick decided to attend the town's annual Halloween party. The old mansion where the party was held was decked out in spooky decorations, with cobwebs, eerie lighting, and ghostly figures lurking in the corners. Everyone was in costume, and I had chosen to go as a ____.
As I mingled with friends, I couldn't help but notice that Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. I asked around, but no one seemed to know where he was. Just as I was about to give up, I was walking by the stairs when I heard someone yelling.
I try not to be nosey but go up the stairs anyone. Maybe nick was up here anyway. I walked through the house looking in the rooms finding nothing. When I open the door i see some kid in a ghost face costume hop out the window. “What the fuck” I say under my breath. I pull out my phone to text him. No service?
I heard commotion downstairs so I ran down to see what’s happening. Everyone was gone from the house. I heard a floorboard squeak behind me.
It was Ghostface, and my heart raced. The figure moved silently through the room, its eyes fixed on me. I felt a shiver run down my spine as Ghostface approached, stopping just inches away from me.
"Y/n," a familiar voice whispered from behind the mask. My eyes widened in shock as Ghostface removed the mask to reveal Nicholas's face. He smiled, but it wasn't the warm, friendly smile I was used to. It was cold and sinister.
"I've been watching you," Nicholas said, his voice low and menacing. "You have no idea who I really am."
I took a step back, my mind racing. The pieces started to fall into place—the strange disappearances, the eerie feeling I got around him, the way he always seemed to know too much. I realized with a sinking feeling that my new boyfriend was none other than the real Ghostface.
Before I could react, Nicholas lunged at me, but I was quick. I grabbed a nearby candlestick and swung it at him, knocking him off balance. I ran through the mansion, my heart pounding in my chest, desperately searching for a way out.
As I reached the front door, I could hear Nicholas's footsteps behind me. I flung the door open and ran into the night, vowing never to trust anyone so easily again. But before I could even get out of the door he grabbed my arm pulling me back in. I try fighting him off but he grabs both of my wrist. “I’m not gonna hurt you y/n!” “Why, why did you do this?!” I yell looking him in the eyes. “What even is a motive?”
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago
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Injured (Alexia's Version) VI
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: Alexia tries to talk to you
TW: discussions of eating disorder
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It's reminiscent of that night all those years ago when Alexia came home and was shoved against her own wall by her sister.
It's funny how history repeats itself.
Alexia, back to the wall and unable to understand why and Alba, absolutely furious, being the one to hold her there.
"Alba?" Olga shrieks, standing up from her spot on the sofa.
Alba had one of the spare keys but usually, she didn't use it. Today she had though, bursting through the door like a woman on a mission and shoving Alexia up against the wall.
Jaume never saw the first time but he's heard about it. He couldn't have lived so long in this family without finding out about what happened when he was a baby. But, still, this is the first time he's seen Tia Alba angry at Mami and he watches with wide eyes from the top of the stairs.
"She's skin and bones!" Tia Alba hisses," I watched her today! She could barely stand up!"
"I know."
"And she...Wait, what?"
"I know, Alba." Alexia is calm even though her sister still has a tight grip on her shoulders, pinning her to the wall. "We know. We're trying to work out how to help."
Alba lets go of her, stepping away. "You know?"
Alexia nods. "We know. We're just trying to work out how. She always finishes dinner."
Guilt settles low in Jaume's gut as Mami, Mama and Tia Alba start discussing your eating habits.
You'd always been a bit peckish. You were never much of a big eater.
Jaume was the opposite. He was a growing boy. He ate a lot, especially on days with football training. He hadn't thought much of you offering your food to him, grateful that he wouldn't have to rifle through the fridge when Mami and Mama left the kitchen.
The topic of dinner comes up again and Jaume lingers on the bottom step, threading his fingers together anxiously.
"She..."
The three women fall silent as he steps into the light.
"What is it, Jaume?" Olga asks.
"Mama," He says, throat bobbing and tears welling in his eyes," I didn't...She never...I didn't know, Mama."
"Didn't know what? What is it?"
"Bambi...I..."
Alexia has always been his idol. She's a legend at Barcelona, captain of the club, captain of the country. Her trophies seemed endless and so did her awards. She was a World Cup winner. One of the greatest to ever play the game.
He wanted to be like her.
Her approval meant everything to him.
"Jaume," Alexia says," What is it? About Bambi? Tell us."
"I've been eating her dinner," He admits," When you and Mama turn your backs. She gives it to me."
Tia Alba noisily blows out air, hands cradling her head and Jaume can see the heartbreak on absolutely everyone's faces.
"Thank you for telling us," Alexia says," You're a good boy, Jaume."
Jaume's throat still feels tight though and guilt still swirls in his belly. "Is she...Is she going to be okay?"
No one answers.
It's a delicate situation to work around.
Alba drops hints during your weekly lunch. Olga keeps an eye on your snack breaks after school. Alexia tries to heap more food onto your plate.
You don't notice anything wrong though, apart from the fact that Jaume is suddenly not hungry anymore. He doesn't want your leftovers.
Alexia's the one to confront you, slipping into your room as you finish up some homework.
"Hey," She says.
"Hey." You finish off your last sentence before spinning around in your chair. "What's up?"
Your room has changed since you were little.
Most of your train tracks and little sets are packed away in the attic but your favourite models still litter your shelves. Your bed has gotten bigger and the bookshelf that used to be covered in children's stories is now full of textbooks and little dancing knickknacks like dead pointe shoes or worn-through ballet flats.
A desk has been moved in for you to complete your school work and your closet is now full of clothes you wanted to buy rather than what Alexia used to want you in.
Gone is the little girl with full, round baby cheeks and in her place is a teenager who's lost weight at an alarming rate.
Alexia can hardly believe it.
"I bought us ice cream."
She waves the tub teasingly at you and you pull a face.
"Sorry, Mami," You say," But I'm not hungry right now."
You spin your chair back to your desk.
Alexia spins it back.
You huff.
"Even just a little bit?" She asks," I can't finish this all by myself."
"Jaume's always hungry. Eat with him."
Something prickles down your spine.
Mami is acting weird like she knows something about you that you don't want her to know.
You stare across at her from the bank of a river. You're on one side. She's on the other. The river rushes between you, a gaping chasm that's getting more and more dangerous as it splashes at the banks.
"I can't eat with you?"
She's pushing now and you snap.
"Why does it matter? I'm not hungry! Drop it!"
Alexia's façade drops as well.
"You've not been eating," She says bluntly.
The water laps more furiously at the banks of the river, rushing towards to a waterfall. Alexia looks at you from across the bank. You stare back at her unblinking.
"Yes..." You say, frozen in place," Yes, I have. What are you talking about?"
"Are you an athlete?"
"What?"
"Do you consider yourself an athlete?"
You scoff, standing up. Your stomach swirls as blood rushes to your head. You feel a little woozy and light-headed but you force your way through it.
"Is this your way of saying that dance isn't active enough for you? Yes! Yes, I consider myself an athlete."
"Then why aren't you fuelling yourself like one?"
Alexia's being gentle about this, trying to coax you out of the corner you've found yourself trapped in. She should have been more subtle though, she realises with a jolt, because you're seconds away from bolting.
She reaches out for you across the bank, a simple hand.
You want to take it. You want her to throw a rope across for you. Something for you to hold and clutch as you swim over to her, to safety.
But you just can't.
Safety means questions and you don't want to answer her questions. You're sure she'll hate you for what she unearths. You're sure she'll look at you and not see her daughter looking back.
If you can't be perfect for her, if you can't be perfect for yourself then you're not worth anything to her.
Jaume has common interests with Mami. He plays football like she did. He plays well like she did. He's going to be world-class like she was.
You have little in common with Alexia but it doesn't make her love you any less. She adores you. She'd drop everything to make sure you're alright.
She doesn't care if you're not perfect. She doesn't care if you decide to quit ballet altogether. She just wants you to be alright.
But you just don't believe that.
You need perfection in yourself. You assume Alexia needs perfection from you as well.
She's staring across the bank from you, arm still out.
You reach for it but the river has gotten more aggressive. The mud on the bank is slippery.
You go straight in.
You try to inflate your lungs but all you can do is breathe in icy cold water as you're battered against the rocks.
You look at Alexia, still holding a tub of ice cream.
She looks at you.
You bolt.
Out of your room. Down the stairs. Out the door and down the street.
Alexia would run after you but she knows. She knows you so well. You'll just run from her and you're much fitter than she is right now. You'd get away quickly.
If she lets you go now then she'll at least know where you're going.
If she runs after you then you could go anywhere.
You're scared. Alexia has scared you.
It's a difficult conversation to have so Alexia lets you run. You need time to calm down, to prepare for this.
She's not happy. She can't be happy when you are starving yourself for reasons still unknown but she can be content with her decision to let you go for now.
You'll have run to somewhere you feel safe.
Alexia can be content.
Or, she's content for a few hours until she gets that call.
"Is this Alexia Putellas?"
"Yes?"
"Hi, I'm just calling because you're put down at y/n's emergency contact? I'm afraid she's passed out in one of the practice rooms."
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cutieln4 · 1 month ago
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Take Me To Church | LN4
lando norris x reader
summary: he would do anything for her. anything.
TW!: sexual assault, violence, mention of death
a/n: i've never really written anything like this before sooo...enjoy?
Your boyfriend Lando had just won the Austin race and naturally, you went out to celebrate. The two of you went out with Max, Carlos, and Oscar to one of the local clubs. The music was bumping, the lights were flashing, and the drinks were flowing.
The group of you were having fun, dancing on the floor and laughing while everyone cheered Lando's name. You had been tipsy, but you were aware of your surroundings. 
"Babe, I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick!" you yelled to Lando over the loud music. 
"Okay, be safe!" he said back, squeezing your arm as you turned away. 
You always found it funny that no matter what you were doing, Lando always told you to be safe. It didn't matter if it was the littlest, least risky thing in the world. He was protective of you. 
After you did your business, you left the bathroom, but a man stepped in front of you before you could get any farther. 
"Excuse me," you said, trying to move around him. 
The man only stepped closer, and that's when you realized how drunk he was.
"Hey, baby, you look real good," he slurred, backing you up into a corner. 
The bathrooms were tucked away, and unfortunately, no one was around. 
"Please leave me alone, I have a boyfriend," you said politely, not wanting to escalate the situation. 
"You're so hot, I wanna hook up with you so bad," he said, rubbing his body against yours.
"Get the fuck off me!" you yelled, struggling against the man. 
But even though he was drunk, he was big and still a lot stronger than you. He easily overpowered you, pinning your wrists with one hand while the other groped you. He started kissing your neck, and your eyes were wide with terror. 
"Get off me! Help!" your screams were drowned out by the blasting speaker. 
He moved to kiss your lips. They felt disgusting against yours, wet and aggressive. Nothing like what Lando's kisses felt like. 
Suddenly, he was ripped off you. Lando was there. 
"Get the fuck off her!" he shouted, shoving the man against the wall. 
"What the fuck do you think you were just doing? Touching my girl?" Lando was holding the man by his collar and even though he wasn't tall, he was still towering over the man. 
Suddenly Max was in front of you, trying to get you to leave, but you were firm. 
Lando punched the man. Then he punched him again. And again. And again. And you realized now why Max was trying to get you to leave.
The man had fallen to the floor at this point, clearly incapacitated, but Lando kept going, and everyone let him. The whole man's face was bloody and his nose was crooked.
He was unconscious, yet Lando kept punching him. 
You snapped out of whatever trance you were in and slowly walked toward him. 
"Lando?" 
At your soft voice, he stopped, quickly turning around and taking your face between his hands. 
"Oh, baby, are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"Can we leave?" you asked, eyes wide.
"Of course," he replied, taking your hand and leading you out of the club.
Max, Carlos, and Oscar were still in shock behind them, but you assumed they went to close out their tabs and leave before security saw the bloody, passed-out man by the bathrooms.
It was quiet as Lando walked the two of you back to the hotel, the both of you processing what happened. 
When you got back, you noticed how bloody Lando's knuckles were.
"Come here, love," you said, guiding him to the bathroom. 
He sat on the counter while you cleaned up and bandaged his wounds, all the while he was staring at you and breathing shakily.
"Are you...freaked out?" he eventually asked when you were done.
"No, why would I be?" you asked calmly, putting away the first-aid kit. 
"I beat someone up even when he was passed out," he replied, as if he was just realizing what he did. 
"You were protecting me," you shrugged.
Lando's eyes darkened when you said that, and his hand came up to caress your cheek. 
"I'm so sorry, darling, I should've gotten there faster."
"No, don't say that. You saved me."
He sighed. "What did he do to you?"
"He was kissing me and grabbing me even when I asked him to stop. I tried to fight back, but he was too strong," you whimpered.
A tear rolled down your cheek, which was quickly wiped away by Lando's thumb. He had a stony look on his face. 
"I should've killed that man."
It was silent for a moment. 
"Let's go to bed, baby, I'm tired."
When you woke up, there were several notifications on your phone, but one stuck out in particular. 
Man found beaten and dead in Austin club
At around 2:00 a.m. security at the club found the body slumped by the bathrooms. Police were called and security cameras were checked, but the footage from the night was somehow corrupted and unable to be viewed. There are no leads to who could've killed the man.
You set your phone down. You couldn't help the smirk that formed on your face as you looked at your sleeping boyfriend next to you.
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taglist: @evasmlp @partnerincrime0 @r0nnsblog @raizelchrysanderoctavius @daniiiboo @wisestarfishbouquet @noodleysalad @thatgirlwholikescars @jxnellat @blakebearsblog @angelluv444 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @etterdotexe @scopeiguess @noope306 @burning8wood @styl1shl1v @venusandstardust @daniellef89x @nzygftoji @laheykol06 @blodwyn4u @allthings-fandoms @woozarts @astroniii @lilorose25 @dejavuontrack @xxx-betty @wobblymug @m3ntally-unstable @armystay89 @sarakay-gvf @kar1nsworldx @velentine @rexit-mo @blodwyn4u @lammys-thinking @sam02009 @kaorisakamotofan @taylorsvogue13 @loveparkersblog @delicatetrashtree @hashmiya @noodleboyluke @crispysoup318 @kisssleeping @comicalivy @lilypat @kaorisakamotofan @superlegend216 @pakotrzl @n3versatisfied @xjval
add yourself to my taglist here!
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iluvloganhowlett · 4 months ago
Text
I HATE YOU PT. 2 .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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in which logan runs into you once more and works things out
part 1
warnings: mostly angst, some fluff at the end, happy ending woohoo, mutant!reader
so the x-men timeline is actually fucked so i def altered it a little so ignore that😝 this is placed around x-men (2000) and X2
“y/n?” this was the last person you expected to see when trying to teach a simple class. yet here he was, right in front of your 2 eyes.
you looked as the kids began to rile up, a chorus of “hi mr. howlett!”s erupting from the group.
logan flashed them a small smile before returning his attention back to you.
he begins to step closer to you, but you stop him with a simple glare. “class you work on the takedowns we practiced last class, i need to step out for minute. no powers, okay? we need to work on that.”
once the class had gotten started, you slipped out the door and made your way down the hall to talk privately with logan.
“y/-“ “what the hell are you doing here?”
suddenly it felt like you were back at your apartment years ago; logan and some red thing at your doorstep.
“no, doll. the better question is what are you doing here?”
you pace back and forth, cracking your knuckles anxiously as you try to come up with the words to say.
“i-i’ve worked here for years? since you went missing,” you stated, your words dripping in venom as you looked logan in the eyes with a hateful look.
“logan i thought i made it clear back then that you were the last one i wanted to talk to- for a while.”
logan only shrugged and smirked, still leaning on the hallway wall, “forced proximity?”
you lunge, pressing your arm into his neck with full force, pinning him to the wall. “you’re funny,” you retort with a sarcastic smile.
“i get that a lot.”
your left hand stabs your claws into his abdomen; just like the good old days. “i get that a lot too.”
“god, logan! why the fuck are you here?!”
“i work here, sugar.”
you pull a face, as if that’s no excuse for him to show up here. “cut the bullshit, lo. what- are you stalking me?”
logan scoffs, “well, we both know i would if i wanted to.”
“what the hell?”
he only sighs, “y/n can we just work this out? please? i’m tired of following you around like a lost puppy for years.”
“so you have been following me,” you smirk.
he stutters, “alright- now y’know that’s not what i meant.”
“sure sugar,” you mock, releasing him from under your arm.
logan rolls his eyes, “do you ever drop it or…?”
“do you ever stick around?”
you watched as logan tensed at your words, looking down at the floor, and you immediately regretted it.
“look- i’m sorry for how i acted the last time you tried to come back into my life,” you sighed.
“y/n…”
“it’s just hard thinking everyday, for 9 months, that the person you love the most is dead.”
logan groaned, moving closer to you and taking your arms in his hands, “you don’t think i know that?! do you know how many times in my life that someone has taken the person i love to get through to me? i spent those 9 months wondering if you handled yourself and were still gonna be in that damn apartment when i came back,” his voice broke and you watched his eyes shift from frustrated to almost pleading.
you scoff, “yeah because i can’t handle myself.”
“you don’t know that!”
your lips curled. as much as you wanted to shoot a snarky comment about not knowing that he would come home, you could see it wasn’t a good time.
his grip loosened, “please. please y/n just give me another chance and i will tell you everything. i’ll be honest, and ill tell you where im going before i go, yeah?”
your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, “ya promise?”
“i promise, doll, i’ll do anything you ask just plea-“
logan was cut off by your lips on his, which he gladly accepted, lifting a hand to your face and one down to your waist.
“y’know,” you began, ghosting just over his lips, “this was probably the only part of you i missed,” you joked.
“shut ya mouth,” and he did just that.
im cringing😮 i hope this is good bc i hate it🥳
taglist!!
@velvrei @spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @zeeader @pink-jello-fish @twinky-wink @malfoys-demigod
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bunnys-kisses · 4 months ago
Note
could i get a lewis hamilton fic - lemon slice and coffee please! i love your writing
bakery menu
if you want to request your own order! feel free, the bakery is still open! as for this request, i didn't get a lot of lewis suggestions so i'd love more in the future! thank you for submitting!
lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + coffee (rivals)
cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, driver!reader, snark & sass, hate sex, protected sex,
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you bounced on the balls of your feet as you waited to get the go ahead to get into the car to start the free practice. it eventually turned into you swinging your arms back and forth. it was a concerted effort to keep yourself calm before the official start of race weekend.
"you definitely don't seem nervous." you heard behind you. you looked over and saw lewis, passing by. you huffed through your nose and we back to what he was doing.
in the two years since you joined the formula one roster, the one driver you seemed to have the most beef with was lewis hamilton. the equivalent to a driving god, but you wanted to step on the toes of god.
"nothing to say back to me?" he asked.
you looked over and clenched onto your helmet tighter, "oh, i didn't even hear what you said, hamilton. i'm more nervous for you than me." you shrugged and turned back to facing forward.
you heard his footsteps and he leaned in to your ear, "i didn't know you had such strong feelings for me. i'm honoured."
you turned around and ended up face to face with him. you wanted to grip onto the front of his driving suit, but there were too many cameras and even more pairs of eyes. you replied, "don't conflate my worry about you making it to qualifiers to me actually liking you hamilton." and gave him a smile.
he raised his eyebrows at you, "right, right. you're too busy chasing the coat tails of your teammate. you know, he's not going to sleep with you. no matter how many times you're the crash course dummy for red bull."
your jaw tensed, "you're going to have to start winning, lewis because those trophies from what, five years ago, are getting a dusty."
he nodded, "well at least my trophy case is full. you know you shouldn't really show off participation trophies." he made a face. he patted you on the shoulder, "but i guess you take pride in always being second best compared to verstappen. and that's an honorable thing."
you scowled at him. his pats on your shoulder felt patronizing, you felt an anger run through you. you muttered two words to him, "room eight-o-five." and looked at him, "knock three times, password is stallion." then you turned away as you heard you mechanic team call for you.
lewis smiled at your backside as you walked away.
-
the evening after free practice, lewis had you pinned against the back of the door to your hotel room. your hands were on the overpriced shirt he wore.
"i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." he said about your moans while you kissed.
you made a face at him. you gripped onto his shirt tighter in retaliation.
"i could get you a deal if you like it so much." he said, noticing how tightly you were holding the fabric, "i'm sure you'd actually look pretty in something that cost more than 5 pounds."
you leaned up into him, your forehead against his, "funny guy, hamilton, eh?" you could feel the boil from earlier return.
he chuckled and almost went in to kiss you once more, "i like when you're mad. gets me riled up. the only fun part of this rivalry. did you know that they think we're dating."
you pressed a kiss on his lips once more before you pulled away, your arms draped around his shoulders, you replied, "i'd think they were stupid. but your idiot friends don't know what a private instagram is." you had seen the photos, the evidence that made it all appear that you and him were more than just bickering drivers.
the main "evidence" was when in a now vanished instagram story, you were getting settled in your hotel room after a night of drinking. you had the covers pulled up to your chin with a phone camera in your face and lewis beside you, trying to get the covers off of you. he was very drunk as well. "ah c'mon, i deserve one kiss! one kiss!" he laughed and your face was all scrunched up as you threatened to bury yourself further under the covers.
the fans went crazy for that. now there was a conspiracy! but little did the folks online know.
his hands went under your shirt, he got it off of you soon enough. you tossed it to the side. you knew he was going to make a comment about how you'd look better in mercedes colours, but you shut those comments down with a searing kiss.
you both ended up in the bedroom, lewis noticed that you had an unopened box of condoms on the night stand. he said, "having guests over later."
you sighed, "yeah, i finally got with max." lewis stilled, stopping dead in his tracks towards the bed. his forehead wrinkled for a moment before you started laughing. you added, "oh my god, hamilton. you jealous fuck."
he got out of your grasp on your hand and said, "hey, we're already compared too much. i don't need him butting in on my rival."
"aw, worried about me, lewis? how sweet. i just thought you'd be worried that he would make me cum faster." you gave him a sweet smile before you took the rest of your clothes off.
when your ass was bare and you were turned to him, he winded back his hand and laid a harsh smack across your ass. he then wrapped an arm around you middle and kissed the nape of your neck, "oh, i'm not worried. because if you can't make yourself cum as fast as i can make you cum. max doesn't stand a chance." his voice was laced with lust. he then pulled away and started to undress.
maybe it was whorish of you to sleep with your rival. the one who you often butted heads with on the track. maybe if the press found out, then it would make any future female drivers look back. but as you got on the bed with lewis, you tossing a condom at him, it didn't matter.
you wanted him and he wanted you, with the hotel room door closed and locked the rest of the world was locked out of the sexual fiasco of your evening.
lewis watched you get on your hands and knees. you wiggled your ass to him to entice him. he laughed and got the condom on before he threw the packet off the bed to be dealt with later.
he wanted to tell you that you looked good. and you wanted to say the same in return. but the words couldn't come out. not while you two were still in this tango.
it was a game of chicken and the two of you were painfully stubborn.
he held onto your hip and his cock, and inched his length into you. it was a euphoria, a firework that went off in the back of his head. he wouldn't admit, but you sort of ruined other women for him. since this started, neither of you had been seeing other people.
"i'm starting to think you like me." he said.
you clutched onto the covers, "i think you're seeing things, hamilton. this is just a mutual agreement, nothing more."
lewis knew you were lying. it was obvious. the almost routine of the snapping of teeth that eventually turned into a tussle in the sheets had far beyond moved from a simple fuck.
you were invested, as was he.
once again, the game of chicken between two rivals.
he thrusted against you. his hips against your ass as he fucked you. there was little romance in his movements. it was something deep inside of him, you were both chasing a sexual high. your noises mixed with his as the two of you panted.
"fuck, lewis." you moaned. you could feel his cock in the back of your throat with how hard he was thrusting. it rarely ever went slow between you two. it was like sparks, burned hot but didn't last long. you held onto the pillow under your head as your back arched.
"i know, i know." he panted, "you feel so good like this. on your knees, you look better like this than a in a car honestly. i hate to admit it, but you're quite pretty."
you felt a compliment dance on your tongue, but you didn't say munch. while it was tempting, the pleasure strangled the words out of your mouth. you whimpered when you felt his cock nudge against your most sensitive parts.
he chuckled, he knew he left you speechless. but that was alright, all he needed to hear was your sweet little moans. both of his wide hands on your hips using a grip that only was made by being a formula one driver. he hunched over you, admiring your backside.
you were painfully pretty, you could have anyone on the grid. but lewis knew that you'd always come back to him. not even the likes of verstappen could compete with him.
"lewis." you panted as you felt the pleasure course through your body. you felt hot all over and your head felt hazy.
"shit." he panted, "fuck. c'mon."
you moaned and clawed at the bed under you. your back arched and you came around his cock. this only further him thrusting you, making sure you were taking his cock to the root. the bed squeaked some more and heavy panting filled the air.
"that's a good little driver. keeping the real pros nice and happy."
you lifted your head, your mouth open as you panted. eventually you said, "fuck you, hamilton."
"no, no. but i'll fuck you." he said as he slammed his cock as deep as it would go and finished inside of you. the condom was your saving grace. he soon pulled out of your pussy and rested on his heels for a moment. he dragged his hand across his neck and forehead to wipe the sweat off of it. he honestly should consider having sex with you as part of his work-out schedule.
but he was certain if he 'booked time' to have sex with you, you'd probably chew him out. you weren't a schedule to meet, a requirement. you were his rival... with benefits. but those benefits weren't clocking in and clocking out.
"c'mere." your voice cut through. you then pulled him up to the pillows and laid there next to him. he draped an arm around you waist and closed his eyes for a moment. you trailed a finger across his brown and down his nose, then down his cheek and across his jaw.
"ugh." you said.
he opened his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes looked to you, "what now?" he seemed like he was pretty relaxed after your round together.
"i was about to give you a compliment."
he smiled and pulled himself closer to you. the both of you still naked. he hadn't even taken the condom off. he said, "do tell."
you made a face and shook your head, "nope. i feel like if your ego gets any bigger you'll fly away." some habits died hard.
he tightened his grip on your waist and pressed his forehead to his for a moment before his coaxed you, "tell me. i'll keep it a secret. promise."
you sighed, it was painful to admit. to give you bigger rival a compliment after he made you cum. you held his face and looked into his eyes, "i get why they love taking photos of you in those overpriced outfits."
he raised his eyebrows, "that was your compliment?"
you replied before you leaned in to him, "maybe if you make me cum twice next time, i'll even admit how you're a decent driver or that i understand why others would hold you in such high regard."
he laughed, "next time, huh? i'm guessing after qualifier."
you smiled back at him, "you know it." <3
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websterss · 2 years ago
Text
UNFILTERED — ETHAN LANDRY
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REQUEST: Secretly dating Ethan for months but you get caught bc you walked with Ethan back to his dorm. He kisses you goodbye before realizing Chad is there.😭
WARNING(S): SPOILERS, um cussing again lmfao. Implications but its pretty okay i guess...
WORD COUNT: 1,162
PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    
A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!
MASTERLIST
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“You sure you don’t want to stay tonight? I can be the little spoon this time.” Ethan offered. His back pressed against the open door of his room.
“The last time we tried that you fell off the edge. You’re a giant Ethan. You hardly fit on your twin sized bed.” You pressed a fist to his bicep. The doorway was filled with echoes of your laugh combined with Ethan‘s grimace then followed chuckles.
“That hurt by the way. I swear I thought we could fit.” His eyes crinkled with an apologetic smile.
“Well, your calculations were wrong. I fit just fine. It was your dumbass who’s legs hung off the foot of the be-“ You were cut off by Ethan’s assaults of tickles. You squirmed in his grasp trying to push him away.
“Stop, stop, stop. Pleassse no more…no more no more no mor-'' You break out into another fit of giggles.
“S-Say you're sorry.” Ethan couldn’t contain his own fits.
“No-“ Your head falls on his chest in defeat. “Okay, okay. Fine, I’ll stop. I’m sorry...” You thank him out of breath. Patting his bicep graciously. “God, you’re mean.”
“I’m not mean.” He chuckles. “Just right.”
“Yes, mean. And you are wrong. Like half the time despite having a gorgeous brain.” You look up and push back his curls.
“My brain’s gorgeous now?” He nodded, a teasing raise of his eyebrows.
“Only when you're not being a dumbass.” You wrap your arms around his neck. You leaned in and pressed your head against his. Sighing as he pulls you closer up against him.
“Stay…” He mutters softly. “Or at least let me walk you.” He suggests.
“I’m literally the building next over.” You scoff out a laugh. Pointing into the hallway for the dorms.
“A lot can happen within that walk.” He shrugs.
“Like what, getting stabbed by ghost face?” You mock with a laugh. Though seeing his shoulders slump let you know otherwise. He didn’t find it in the least bit amusing.
“That’s not funny.” He dipped his head.
“Oh, would you stop worrying. I’ll be fine. I’ll even text you when I’m safe and sound in my dorm…not bleeding out from a stab wound.” You smirk and press a sweet kiss to his cheek. He leans into your lips. Then gives up trying to convince you to stay. He leans against the door again.
“You’ll call me right when you get there?” He starts letting the idea of you walking to your dorm process.
“I’ll even FaceTime, which you know I hate doing it. I’ll even do the BeReal shit, or whatever it’s called just for the kick of it.” You now hold him at arm's length. “I’m gonna be fine. Just like I’ve been fine for the past few months. I’m invincible.” You raise your biceps, trying to show your very visible lack of muscles. Ethan’s eye roll only makes you laugh further. “Now, shut up and kiss me stupid, so I can be on my merry way, and begin my daydreaming about you, and those muscles, and that hair I like to pu-“ You moaned in delight as he cut you off with his lips. He turned you guys around and pressed you up against the door this time. Your arms now pinned over your head. He kissed you hard and rough, and god it was fucking hot. You thanked all the women that rejected him prior to meeting you. The universe had really been looking out for you, blessing you with a six foot tall, hot brunette, gorgeous brown eyed loser of a boyfriend. But goddamn was he no loser in bed. You were truly blessed.
You pulled back with a gasp. Head tilted as he left trails of kisses up and down your neck. “Fuck…” You let out shaken and rocked to your core.
“Still wanna leave?” He breathed out with shit-eating grin.
“Please leave.”
The yelp you let out was quite embarrassing. You had jumped one inch off the floor, and you had never seen Ethan pull away from you so fast. Yours and Ethan’s head snapped to the source. You both walked further into the room. Your eyes widening as they fall upon Chad, curled over a text book. He wasn’t looking directly at you but he was highly aware that the doorway was being corrupted.
“H-How long have you been sitting there?” Ethan closed his eyes, as mortified as you were in that moment.
“Enough to know you two are into some kinky ass shit. By the way, what the fuck?” He scooted his chair back and looked at you two incredulously. “When the fuck did this happen? And please tell me it hasn’t happened in the sacredness of our room…”
You and Ethan exchange a look at each other then grimace and wince at Chad who looks at Ethan’s bed grossed out.
“I think imma throw up, but also, why didn’t you just tell us. What’s with the sneaky around?”
“Cause you and Mindy are fucking nosy as hell! Plus I didn’t- We didn’t want the group to meddle into our lives. I don’t need Mindy schooling us on the basis of scary movies 101 every second we want some time alone. Okay? We just wanted to enjoy the peace while it still lasted. That’s if you can keep your fucking mouth shut though.”
“I’m offended.” He touched his heart.
“You’re a goddamn blabbermouth.” You smack him upside the head. Ethan chuckles amused by this whole ordeal. Chad shakes his head. Then looks between you.
“You trust him?”
“I let him deflower me for three months. I wouldn’t let someone go that easily….but yeah I trust him.” You nodded surely. Arms crossed over your chest.
“Don’t ever say deflower again please. For the sake of our peers and my ears.”
“You want me to say he fucked me then?” You let out a small chuckle. “Defiled, corrupted my insides? I’m an English major dude, I’m loaded with synonyms.” You gesture to yourself.
“No!” Chad exclaims, mortified. “Don’t fucking say shit period! Get the fuck out already!” He points to the door but laughs nonetheless.
“Alright, I’m going!” You lean over and press a kiss to Ethan’s cheek. “I’ll call you later, okay.” Your hands separated as you walked to the door.
“You’re fucking unbelievable…You put up with her willingly?” He laughs up at Ethan.
“Everyday...” He nods. “You just have to catch her on a good day though.”
“See even Ethan’s done with your shit!” Chad leans over to see you halt at the door.
“Not when I’m offering up my pu-” You shimmy, but dodge out the way as he throws a football at you. Your booming laughter echoing in the hallways.
“Fuck you!” Chad yells after you.
“You wish!” Your voice could be faintly heard.
“That’s your girlfriend, Landry.” Chad points to the open door. “You’re unfiltered, crazy ass girlfriend.”
“That’s my girlfriend...” He laughs out loud.
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jyoongim · 8 months ago
Note
Hey there! My first time asking/making a request lol, but I had two separate ideas and you can just pick one or something.
First was an alastor w/ fem reader, it's mating season for red and this ones diff bc he's had his eyes on reader or smthn for a min and decides this season he's going to do his best to show off to her, lmao like "look look, I can provide and protect!" a bit intense bc it's mating season, but reader is CLUELESS until at some point it finally clicks and she's all "huh.. ohh SHIT"
Second idea was one that I thought would be funny, like so.. lucifer finds out Al likes reader and even tho he doesn't really like Al he's like " don't worry, I can definitely help with this" but he's lowkey a terrible wingman even tho miraculously it somehow helps in the end???
Again you can choose from either and end it however you want, fluff/nsfw/sfw. Or if none of this is your cup of tea then just ignore me!!
Not me on a fluff binge hehehhehe
hope you guys like it! I’ve been a bit slow to write and upload but I’ve enjoyed reading every request! I’m still taking a slight break but I try to give y’all SOMETHING. Hope y’all don’t mind!!
Lots of love-jyoongim
——————————————————————————————-
Mating season.
Usually an awful time of year that made Alastor more on edge than usual.
But something was different this year…
This mating season, the deer demon wanted a partner….
Alastor had his sights on a pretty doe and he was going to ensure that she was going to be his for the season…
—————————————————————————
You rubbed the sleep out your eyes as you greeted everyone as you took a seat for breakfast.
Pancakes. Bacon. Sausage. Eggs. Fruits.
Your stomach rumbled at the delicious smells.
”Fine hellish day isn’t my dear?” Alastor chirped as he piled food fruits and meats on your plate. You blinked at the amount of food on your plate.
”Al my stomach is only so big” you giggled causing the demon to hum as he took a seat beside you.
”A full belly makes a happy doe” he smiled as you happily ate the food.
Alastor watched as you ate, a soft purr rumbling in his chest.
”Why don’t we go for an outing dear?” Alastor suggested as you let out a burp.
You agreed.
It was rather chilly for Hell.
You and Alastor waltz around the city. You happily looked at the displays in many windows. 
You didn’t know Alastor’s agenda but you didn’t mind accompanying him.
You must have lagged behind him a tad as a demon slithered up beside you as you looked over some jewelry.
”what’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?” A deep voice asked causing you jumped, surprised.
”O-Oh hi um I’m just looking that’s all” you gave a nervous smile. Your skiddish nature took over as you took a step back. The demon advanced on you. He was big, could easily overtake you if need be.
”Why don’t I show you around? I don’t see a ring. I can show you a good time” sharp teeth smiled at you menacingly.
Your ears flattened, you might be  small but you could defend yourself. You bared your teeth at the demon making him chuckle
”Now now little lady lets not get ugly” 
You hadn’t realized he had backed you into a corner.
The demon pounced, making you screech as he pinned you to the wall.
Your ears perked as heavy static buzzed through the air. The demon didn’t seem to notice 
 “You’ll make a fine piece of ass”
Black smoke poured through the alleyway and static popped.
”That’s no way to talk to a lady”
Black tentacles dragged the demon and blood-curdling screams escaped the demon, but were quickly silenced as Alastor ripped him apart.
”mine mine mine” Alastor growled as he chomped on the demon.
You gagged as chunks of flesh flew around.
Satisfied that the distasteful demon was in his belly, Alastor looked towards you.
A large sharp claw traced your face, he was growling but his eyes were soft. He morphed to be a bit smaller and helped you up, his red eyes roaming over you.
”I’m okay Al” you reassured giving him a smile. He seemed to calm down and looped your arm with his.
”dishonorable filfth” he hissed as he made his way back to the hotel. You pouted you really wanted to buy something but you’ve had enough excitement for one day.
You looked at Alastor and tilted your head “Al your antlers”
The usual small antlers were now big and standing tall on top his head.
”Nice rack” you giggled making the red demon smirk, his chest puffing proudly.
”than-thank you for all that. I really appreciate Al” you said sheepishly.
The tall demon hummed 
“Don’t mention it my dear. What kind of man would I be if I couldn’t protect you?”
——————————————————————————
Alastor had been lingering around you since the little accident. He had growled at anyone who got too close to you.
He was very possessive and protective of you, which you thought was sweet that the demon was worried about you.
You groaned as the sun peaked through your window. You sat up and you blinked in confusion.
Flowers, breakfast, and a tiny box.
Rest up little Doe ~Alastor
Your tail wagged in happiness. You don’t know why Alastor had been so attentive but you were eating it up.
You placed the flowers in a vase and began to eat breakfast.
Your face wrinkled as you pulled a piece of meat from your teeth.
what the fuck?
It was soft and fleshy. You shuddered but ate the rest of your breakfast. You opened the tiny box and keened when you saw the bracelet you had been looking at earlier in the week.
There were cute little radio themed charms.
You quickly cleaned up and went downstairs.
Charlie and Vaggie were sitting in the lobby chatting.
You smiled and waved, your bracelet caught Vaggie’s attention.
”Hey where you get that?” The question also caught Charlie’s attention, she immediately began gushing
”Oh my! Did Alastor get that for you? Omg so cute!”
Vaggie deadpanned “Alastor have been very cozy towards you what’s that about?”
You shrugged “I don’t know but it can’t be anything bad right?”
————————————————————————————-
“I see you got my gift” Alastor said, coming behind you as you red on the couch. You smiled “Its really nice Al but why the sudden gift giving?”
Alastor smiled “well my dear its mating season”
You blinked. Mating season? What did that have to do-
OH SHIT!
Your eyes widened “Y-You’ve been…”
His lips pulled into a genuine smile “Courting you? Why of course my dear!”
His hand circled the wrist with the bracelet. He brought it up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it.
Your body shuddered in delight and your ears flicked as he nipped at your fingers.
Your nose wrinkled at the smell of his pheromones, your tail wagging.
You let out a purr as you rubbed yourself against him and took off running, throwing a wink at him as he followed suit, giggling as he made a grab at your hips as you evaded him.
”Come and solidify your place Mr. Radio Demon” you teased slipping into his room.
A soft growl escaped Alastor as he followed you and had his shadow guard the door.
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justhereforthemeta · 1 year ago
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Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight
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Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)
This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!
On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.
@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.
Continued below the cut...
Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.
Shax: “You’re in trouble”
A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”
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Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.
And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.
There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.
1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).
Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:
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Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:
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And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.
There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball. 
Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.
Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.
For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.
So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.
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Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.
But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.
Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché. 
Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. 
And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.
In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.
My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:
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is actually this:
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Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967: 
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whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:
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…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:
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That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once. 
Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat. 
Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).
Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.
Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution. 
Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.
‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!? 
I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.
(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)
When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.
From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.
This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.
In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.
Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save. 
“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”
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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago
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You Have A Type, Don't You?
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Based on this post
I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol
Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy
Word Count: 1,601
Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.
Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.
Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.
That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.
Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.
“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”
Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.
You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”
He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”
“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”
He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?
“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”
“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”
You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”
“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”
You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”
“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.
“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”
He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”
If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…
“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”
If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”
He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”
Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.
Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.
With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.
“All done, dear?”
You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”
“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”
While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”
Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.
You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.
“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”
You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”
“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”
You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”
The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…
“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.
“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”
He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”
You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”
You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”
---
Tag List:
@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran
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chaosandmarigolds · 6 months ago
Text
Before we begin. I would like to remind you all that Caleb is a fictional character, he cannot be hurt- but so is Simon Riley so do with that information what you will :)
“Garrick.”
Johnny clears his throat before speaking, the commotion of the station loud through the phone, “Ya n the missus still in th’ country?”
To that Kyle frowned, moving carry on bag to sit down on the chair, “We’re just gettin back from Las Vegas, Becca got-“
“Ollie is gone.”
well. That sent a shock through his system, with a quick straighten of the posture Kyle speaks again, “An’ Simon doesn’t-“
“Some bullshit happenin’ makin it look like he helped his girl with kidnappin em from da dad, dad’s takin em …”a breath, “Si doesn’t know Ollie is gone yet. He’s been in questionin for five hours kno.”
Kyle looks down at his boots for a moment, meanwhile his wife gives him a confused stare, “Jesus- fuck, you need me?”
“I dunnae ye. Probably, ya got a ETA?”
Kyle shrugged and then looks at Rebecca, who had her luggage stolen so they were waiting on the security to do their work. “Si’s kid is missin.”
She stares up at him in disbelief for a moment, “How?”
“Bio-dad bullshit.” Kyle puts the phone to his ear again, “Hows Cap holding up?”
“Pissed off. But we all are.”
“Ya seen LT yet?”
“Nah, got her’ two hours go.”
-
If he were being honest, he wanted to simply take the gun and shoot the detective- it would finally make that man shut his mouth. However, Simon was showing self restraint, yet that task grew harder with each moment. So as he sat in the empty room, he was mainly focusing on keeping his breathing even, and temper in check.
About ten minutes went by before someone came to let him go, and to no one surprise Price was behind the door with the officer.
“I need you to be-“
“Where’s Ollie? Where is she?”
Price tried to keep his expression neutral, “Caleb had temporary rights-“
“The fuck does that mean? Where is MY SON?” Okay, so temper wasn’t in check but he was doing his best.
“He’s going to Las Vegas.”
Rebecca sipped her coffee as she sat in the airport lounge, after talking the security and as Kyle gave out the description of the small boy. She was currently going through Caleb’s social media, as someone had gone through a lot of trouble to edit photos where Simon had been in and replace them with himself, somehow editing the timestamps as well. Which was funny, because normally she was the phone taking the family photos.
With a frown she turns her phone over and looks around the bustling airport.
That’s when she spots Caleb. Hoodie pulled up to cover his face and quickly walking through the terminals.
Some part of her knew she needed to tell Kyle, and to not rush after him. And she knew he probably could’ve over powered her/ but it was so easy to just use that book she had grabbed as she went after him to take him down.
He probably could’ve thrown her off but instead he let her pin him down, panicked eyes and heaved breathing. “I swear! I didn’t- it wasn’t my idea! They-I owed the em money! I had to!”
“Where is Oliver?”
“They had me hand him off-off to some lady! I don’t know! Russian, tall, I don’t know!”
Rebecca looks down at him, her heart beginning to race as the security began to come over and to grab them, and she slowly turned as Kyle pulls her away. “I don’t…I don’t think is about Ollie. I don’t think this is about him at all.”
-
Ollie stares at the ground of the small plane, having a cup of water and a little baggie of goldfish in front of him. His eyes red with tears.
“Oh, come now little man, eat up. Get strong.” The woman coax’s, her voice muffled by the accent but her smile sweet, “Your father does not want to see you hurt.”
“I wanna go home.”
“I know. But you cannot go right now, your father- he owes us a debt.”
—-
Tee…tee hee 🤍🤍
(Am I getting carried away? Yes obviously. But I am having too much fun to stop)
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
Note
reader making a new friend (who is a male btw) and poly!marauders get jealous and snap at reader, for example saying, ‘go hang out with ____ ‘ and reader understands and reassures them that no such thing as reader leaving marauders would ever happen.
Thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 860 words
"There you are, angel!" James gushes as you walk in the door. "We've been waiting, where've you been?"
You stop short, caught offguard by the onslaught of attention as three pairs of eyes pin you in front of the door. Your boyfriends are all sitting at the table, untouched bowls of pasta in front of them and one by your empty chair.
"Sorry," you say slowly, easing your bag off your shoulder and taking off your shoes. "I didn't realize you were waiting. Liam wanted to show me some new music he's found, so I stayed late." You hustle to your chair, and James begins shoveling pasta into his mouth eagerly.
"Oh, Liam asked you to stay," Sirius says drily, stabbing at his bowl with a fork. "Awesome."
You frown. Liam started at your work a couple of months ago, and the two of you had hit it off immediately. He was funny, you liked a lot of the same things, and everyone who you'd introduced him to adored him. Everyone, except your boyfriends. "He didn't ask me to stay, I offered because I wanted to hear it. And I didn't ask you to wait up for me, either."
James swallows. "We tried to call you, and texted you a bunch," he says, and the quiet of his voice is so unlike him that your anxiety instantly heightens.
You whip out your phone, seeing missed calls and texts from each of the boys taking up the entire screen. You'd forgotten to turn the sound back on after your shift.
"I'm sorry," you say, putting it away, and you mean it, but none of the boys really seems to want to look at you.
And as quickly as your shame rose to the surface, indignation comes in to replace it. This is so unlike them. Sirius will occaisionally make a teasing comment about you leaving them for one of your celebrity crushes, but none of your boyfriends are truly the jealous type. You're in a polyamorous relationship, for Merlin's sake. This sort of possessiveness has never been part of the deal.
"What's your problem with him?" You stare them down in turn, and only Sirius is bold enough to meet your heated gaze.
"You're with him when you should be with us!" He snaps. "Just look at tonight—James made dinner, and where were you? With him! So why are you even here now? Let's just cut the bullshit, and you can go hang out with Liam."
James had...James never cooks. That always falls to you or Remus, but tonight...you look at the pasta, which you've yet to take a bite of, and you're hit with a guilt that feels like nausea. It's your favorite. James cooked it for you.
"You have been seeing a lot of him lately," Remus says quietly, and his tone is more controlled than Sirius', but you see the protective hand he sets on James' knee under the table. "And you talk about him all the time. Do you really not see why our minds would go there?"
"I didn't...you guys are serious about this?" Your voice wavers, and that gets them all to look at you. You see the truth of it in their faces, sullen and embarrassed and tense, as if apprehensive of what you'll do next. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way, I—fuck, Jamie, can I give you a hug?"
"Course," he says softly, and rush to him, pressing your face into his dark curls.
"Thank you for dinner, love," you say, feeling like your heart is breaking. "I didn't mean to be late, and I should have remembered to turn my phone back on, I'm so sorry. This is so lovely of you." You turn so you can see the other boys, still cradling James' head in one hand. "Liam and I are just friends, I promise. I didn't know...I thought it was just teasing, the way you talked about him. I didn't mean to let you worry. And I'm sorry if I've been blowing you off lately."
"It hasn't been that often, dove." Remus is the first to warm, looking at you kindly. "Just, could you let us know if you're going to be very late?"
You feel like your chest has hollowed out at the realization of how this has been weighing on them. "Yeah, of course." You release James to return to your seat, leaning over to press a kiss to Sirius' head as you pass him, and he rolls his eyes with a reluctance you suspect is mostly feigned by now. "You really think I could find someone better than you three? You're out of your minds," you quip, taking some pasta onto your fork and inhaling the aroma of the sauce appreciatively. You think you see James sit up a bit straighter with pride. "As if there's anyone who could give me more than what I already have. Honestly, I'm at full capacity, love-wise."
Sirius snorts, finally eating some of his own pasta. "I know. This apartment is hardly large enough for the four of us, where would Liam sleep?"
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