#anyway I hate hate hate hate reckless drivers

[suoulfillem]

for the first like 3 hours of work tonight i was trying to starve off an anxiety attack because just before i got there my mum told me she nearly got into a car accident the night before that was eerily similar to the car accident that killed my cousin and it was just like haha holy shit! that could’ve actually happened! again!! fuck!

[dreamlandbarnes]

have officially lost the plot. i'm 1k deep into the ted lasso f1 au i DIDNT EVEN PLAN ON WRITING

[auggieblogs]

nsfw | mdni | lando norris x fem! driver reader | smut with a bit of plot.

Author’s note: Hiiii, everyone!!! I hope you all are doing good. I am sorry for being mia, I actually started university recently (it’s insane). Needless to say I have a lot on my plate right now, and writing isn’t the first thing on my agenda but I felt weirdly inspired yesterday (i am clearly ovulating). Anyways I hope you like it, happy reading<3

ALSO AGAIN, MDNI!!!! THIS CONTENT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AUDIENCES.

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

You marched down the paddock, ignoring the piercing stares and whispers. Your heart was still racing, not just from the adrenaline of the crash but from the rage boiling inside you. The Baku Grand Prix had gone sideways fast, quite literally, and it was all Lando Norris's fault. Or, at least that's what you convinced yourself to believe.

Two laps in, you collided with him in one of the most reckless incidents of your career, sending both cars spinning out of the race. It wasn't just the crash that infuriated you-it was that smug, arrogant look you knew he'd wear afterward, refusing to accept his share of the blame.

As you stormed up to his driver’s room, you didn't even bother knocking, shoving the door open, fully prepared to let loose. But whatever words you had prepared immediately got stuck in your throat.

Lando was standing there, almost completely naked, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. His chest glistened with sweat from the heat of the race, and his hair, a little longer now with a baby mullet sticking out, was damp and tousled. Your eyes raked over him, heart pounding. His body was lean, muscles tense and glistening under the fluorescent lights. His face was a mix of amusement and heat as he noticed your reaction.

Lando raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips as he noticed your staring. "Like what you see?" His voice was smug, teasing.

You blinked, quickly snapping yourself back to reality. No way you were letting him get to you like this, not when you were still so pissed.

"That was a shitty move, Norris," you spat, trying to focus on your anger instead of the fact that he was practically naked in front of you.

Lando's eyes flicked down your body, scanning you slowly, deliberately, making you feel hot under his gaze. He leaned back against the wall casually, arms crossed, his expression smug. "You rammed into me,” he said, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Your fists clenched, and you took a step closer, your rage bubbling over again. "That was you! You cut me off and ruined my race!" you nearly shouted, your voice rising with each word.

Lando shrugged, utterly nonchalant. "Or maybe you just couldn't handle the pressure." He sat down casually on the couch, his legs spread wide as he leaned back, watching you with that infuriatingly smug look on his face. "Maybe you just hate that you'll never beat me."

His words hit you like a slap to the face, but you didn't back down. You stepped closer, fists clenched at your sides.

"You're a prick, Norris. You think you're better than everyone else—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Lando grabbed your wrist and yanked you down, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. The sudden movement made your breath hitch, your hands instinctively going to his shoulders for balance as you sat on top of him, your faces now inches apart.

"You keep running your mouth,” he murmured, his voice a low, “and I swear to God, I'll fuck you so hard you'll forget how to speak."

Your pulse spiked, your entire body buzzing with a mix of shock and arousal. The heat of him against you, the feel of his hands on your hips, sent a thrill through you that had you struggling to catch your breath. But you weren't backing down. Not with Lando. Never.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you shot back, though your voice came out breathless, betraying how badly you wanted him.

Lando's eyes flashed with something dark and before you could react, his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, desperate, all teeth and tongue. His hands were everywhere- gripping your waist, sliding up your back, pulling at the zipper of your race suit until it fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air of the room.

He groaned as he peeled the suit off your shoulders, his eyes devouring the sight of your breasts as they spilled free. Without hesitation, his hands cupped them, squeezing roughly as his mouth moved down to your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

"Fuck, you've got perfect tits," Lando muttered, his voice thick with lust. He leaned forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking hard as his other hand kneaded the soft flesh of your other breast.

You gasped, your back arching as waves of pleasure shot through you. His tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it until it hardened in his mouth, sending shivers down your spine. His free hand pinched and rolled your other nipple between his fingers, drawing moans from your lips that you couldn't suppress.

"You always walk around in that tight suit,” he growled against your skin, his breath hot as he moved from one breast to the other, giving it the same attention. “Do you know how hard it is to focus when I know these are underneath?"

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans threatening to escape as his hands and mouth drove you wild. But you couldn't resist anymore. The heat between your legs was unbearable, and you needed him-now.

"Lando, please,” you whimpered, grinding down against him, feeling his erection straining against his boxers. The friction sent sparks of pleasure through you, but it wasn't enough. You needed more.

He smirked up at you, his hands sliding down to your hips, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles that made your breath hitch in your throat. You moaned, your head falling back against the couch as your body trembled under his touch.

"Fuck, you're soaked for me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is this what you wanted? All that fighting, all that tension—was it just an excuse to get fucked?"

You didn't answer, too lost in the overwhelming sensation of his fingers moving inside you, curling just right, hitting all the spots that made you see stars.

"I asked you a question,” Lando growled, his other hand coming up to grip your throat lightly, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Is this what you wanted?"

You nodded, barely able to form words. "Yes," you breathed. “God, yes."

A smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and without a warning her tore your panties down. He plunged into you. Filling you completely.

You cried out, your hands gripping his back as he set a punishing pace, each thrust deeper than the last. The room filled with the sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin as he fucked you relentlessly.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he drove into you over and over again. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice rough as he leaned down, capturing your nipple in his mouth again, sucking and biting as he pounded into you.

The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building inside you with every thrust, every touch. You were close-so close-and Lando could feel it. His hand slipped between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he growled against your skin, his pace never faltering. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."

That was all it took. With a loud moan, your body tensed, and the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. Your walls clenched around him, and Lando groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he followed you over the edge, spilling inside you with one final, deep thrust.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you catching your breath as you lay tangled together on the couch, bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all.

Lando shifted, rolling onto his back beside you, his chest heaving as he looked over at you with a satisfied smirk. “Still think it was my fault?" he asked, his voice teasing.

You gave him a tired smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of pleasure. "Maybe we both lost this one,” you muttered, your hand lazily tracing patterns on his chest.

He chuckled, pulling you close. "Guess we'll just have to settle it off the track more often."

[zeltqz]

the ask was for a sanzu x fem reader nsfw and they’re both getting high together in the car and they do the thing where they bloke smoke in each other’s most and one things leads to another. But I thought it would be funny of on the middle of their sesh, ran calls and idk you could decide if he answers or not. Lol

— mile high club

ø contents: smoking, smut, possessiveness, fluff, takeomi slander ish bc i hate the mf, friends to lovers, mutual oblivious pining, akashi brothers' mentioned beefing

o word count : 7.1k.

ø notes: is it even a sanzu fic if i dont include some sort of tension and psychological explanation to do with the neglect he faced from Takeomi? no? ok anyway...

@wenumsmol 🫶🏾

The sun sets over the streets of Tokyo when you park the car in the garage of the Akashi household, having dropped Haru off at home since you’re now his designated driver because his license got suspended for reckless driving.

“We’re here.” The car shuts off when you turn the key, both hands resting on the wheel like the professional, respectable driver you are. “Now get out of my car.”

Sanzu groans from the backseat, laying flat on his back, hand splayed over his forehead, the cold heat from his hands doing wonders to soothe his burning headache. 

“Oi.” Over your shoulder, you peek at him, fighting the urge to poke him awake. “I said we’re here.”

“I know.”

“ So…get out?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t—” You bite your words, stopping yourself to give yourself time to take a deep breath, soothing your bubbling frustration before it erupts. “You don’t want to enter your own house?”

He raises a long, slender finger, pointing insistently out the window. You follow his gaze to the back corner of the garage, Takeomi’s bike perched on its stand. 

“Ohhh,” you realise, unbuckling your seatbelt to turn and face him fully. “Well..you can’t avoid him forever.”

He removes his hand from his forehead, eyebrows knitted, forehead creased as he glares at you. “Watch me.”

“I’m serious, Haru.”

“So am I.” He’s sitting up, face stern and serious, you swear his green eyes practically glow in the dark as they catch the edge of the yellow tint garage light. 

When it comes to Takeomi, Haruchiyo mainly plans on avoiding him at all costs, dodging him around the house, wearing headphones at full volume just to drown out the sound of his brother’s voice, not coming back home for days on end, rather spending the night at yours or Mikey’s house.

He’s developed different coping mechanisms : talking to Mikey is a big help, though Mikey isn’t one for therapeutic advice, he’s still willing to lend a helping ear and listen to Haruchiyo rant on and on. It’s not much help though, only hearing responses like ‘ hm ’ , ‘ oh ’, and ‘ah’,  maybe if Mikey has a little energy left in him, he’d nod occasionally, but that’s about as much help as you’d get. 

His second coping mechanism is you,  someone he’d befriended a couple months back and kept you by his side secretly ever since, using you as a personal chauffeur and a therapist, but more importantly a best friend. Someone who’d be there for him without judging him and his dirty secrets; someone who likes to be around him not because they’re scared or intimidated, but because they enjoy his presence. 

He cannot be in the right state of mind when talking to his brother, not wanting to remember their interactions in the morning, so he relies on getting stoned or drunk to wipe his memory. It’s a potentially dangerous mechanism, but Sanzu enjoys the adrealine rush of trying something new, enjoys the out of body experiences, the fuzzy feelings, the wild imaginations and visions that make his world look colourful rather than monochromatic. 

“Haru.” You call his name with that sweet voice of yours, one that makes his heart warm. “You can talk to me about anything, okay? I’m always gonna be here for you.” 

He’s looking down at his lap, mouth twisted in a way he always does when he’s deep in thought. You can’t help but wonder just what’s going through that brain of his, knowing fully that up there is a mess of unorganised feelings and emotions he’d never been able to fully process.

“Haru. Is everything oka—”

“You know what I want?” He cuts you off, changing topics with a bright smile. 

His decision to switch topics isn’t something that offends you, knowing that he takes time to fully open up and you’re willing to wait as long as he needs. “What do you want, Haru?”

“I want weed.”

“There’s no weed, wait. What are you doin—” He moves quickly, his lean body brushing past yours, balancing a hand on your lap for leverage as he reaches inside the glove compartment pulling out his stash. “What the hell! You stashed your crap in my car?!”

“Of course I did.” He cackles at the dumbfounded look on your face, moving to the backseat. “Where else would I put it?”

“Uh—I don’t know? Your room? Anywhere but my damn car! I got pulled over the other day. What if I had gotten caught and they searched my car?”

“Did you?” He shrugs half heartedly, opening the ziplock bag. Almost instantly the car smells of marijuana, your nose wrinkles as you try to process it. 

“Well, no…but that’s not the point!”

“Shhhh,” he shushes you, taking his time to roll his blunt, all the while you’re glaring at him. “Stop pouting. You should be thanking me.”

“For what?”

“This.” He licks the joint to seal it, lifting it towards you like it’s his artistic masterpiece. The smile on his face screams child proud of their school project, diamond scars stretching cutely as his smile only widens. “It’s strong. Try it.”

“It better be.” You snatch it from his hands, holding it between your teeth as you manouevr yourself to the backseat to seat beside him. 

His chin is heavy on your shoulder as he watches you light it, wanting to be as close to you as possible not only to get a whiff of that perfume he loves that you practically drown yourself in, but to see your initial reaction to the weed. 

The smoke burns your throat before you could fully inhale, coughing violently whilst pounding on your chest to ease it. Haruchiyo grabs water from the front, tossing it to your lap as you erupt in a series of coughs. “What is that?” 

“I dunno.” He eyes the joint between his two fingers, looking oddly fascinated by it. “I just heard it was strong.”

“No shit.” It hurts when you talk, still feeling the ghost of smoke searing your oesphagus. 

His spare hand hooks onto your legs, and you yelp as he swings them over on his lap, slender fingers rubbing up and down your thigh as he smokes. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t wanna.” You shift upwards on the seats, sitting on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to rest your forehead against the side of his face and shoulder. The scent of his cologne is overpowered by the marjiuana, but it’s still visible, dipping your face between his neckline and sighing. “This one is too much.” 

“Are my eyes red?” His jaw moves when he speaks, and it tickles as his smooth skin brushes against your cheek.

It pains you to move from your current position, his warmth and scent are soothing to you, but you shift back, turning the car lights on to see better. The corners of his eyes are red, and he’s struggling to keep them fully open. 

“Yeah, they are.” The urge to brush his cheeks is tempting, and your fingers twitch and hesitate by your side.

“Hey hey, wanna see somethin’ cool?” When you nod, he shifts upwards, his hand grabbing to hold onto your waist to ground you before you slip off his lap. 

The sudden contact had you stiffening, blood roaring in your ears as his strong hand held your side. You watch him perform a trick, his diaphragm contracting as he inhales, lips pursed as he exhales, several rings of smoke following suit. Your brows raise in surprise, ready to praise him when he sucks it all back in with one huge breath, the rings dismantling in the air. 

He turns back to look at you, chin high in the air, eyes tinted red gleaming as he grins at you, cheerful and animated. You can’t help it, reaching out to cup his soft cheeks with one hand, tracing over the outline of his lips, the shape of his scars with your thumb. 

It’s like he’s frozen stiff as your fingers feel up his face, and he blinks at you as you look at him with those soft eyes of yours. “You’re so cute, Haru.”

His eyes dilate; from the light in the car, or the strong weed you don’t know, can’t tell. What you can tell is that from his silence, his mind is running wild, thoughts bouncing across his brain from left to right, mirroring the way his eyes dart over your face, your lips, and the curve of your nose.

“So are you.” The words spill out from his lips faster than the blush creeps onto his cheeks. He looks away, embarrassed, clearing his throat before smoking from the joint again. “I learnt it from Ran. That useless lazy fucker is sometimes helpful.”

“Ran, huh?” Your fingers find themselves latched to the front strands of his hair tucked into a ponytail, twirling it on your fingertips. “He’s the tall one, right?”

He chuckles, short and amused, voice muffled from the joint between his lips. “All my friends are tall, ya know?”

“Well maybe if you let me around your friends, I’d be able to identify them.”

“You’ll live without ‘em,” he says, blowing smoke in your face, snorting when you cough and swat the smoke away, then try to hit the side of his face, only for him to catch your hand in time. “Your reflexes suck ass.”

You struggle to shift your hand from his grip, frowning at him. “I’m not a ninja.”

“I can teach you to be one.” 

“You a sensei, now?”

“I’m anything and everything. Like Batman.” 

He smiles when you laugh softly, the sound making him feel lightheaded, paired along with the weed flowing through his veins. “Batman is rich, though. You’re not.”

“I can steal money, all is good.” His hand, warm and hot, slides under the hem of your shirt, leaving a searing trail behind his movements that burns into your skin. “I’ll buy you anything once I get rich. Promise.”

He’s been subtly leaning closer as he speaks the whole time, but you don’t notice until his forehead brushes yours and you’re both staring at each other, daring the other to move closer.  “ Anything? ”

Green eyes fall down to your lips, not even trying to look subtle. “Anything.”

Fuck, at this angle you look so pretty, staring down at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He always feels like that around you, another reason why he loves getting high around you. It forces him to be vulnerable around you, letting the feelings he’s been shovelling down refsurface.

Though it’s risky, and there’s nothing more he fears than rejection, he’s always been a risk taker. You make him feel good with your words, your presence, your voice, the silly moments you two share alone in his car, your room, his room. 

Your lips are what he favours the most on your face, always glossy with whatever flavour lipbalm you wear that day, and he physically fights the urge to kiss them just to guess it. His eyes are drawn towards your lips like a magnet. The way you bite at them when you’re focused, chew on the skin when you’re nervous, lick them when they’re dry, he notices, and wonders how soft they truly are.

“Do…do you wanna kiss me?” Your question catches him off guard, brows knitting in confusion as he wonders if he’s been speaking his thoughts aloud this entire time, but in truth, he’s been making his intentions obvious as he’s been staring at nothing but your lips the entire time.

“Huh? Don’t be weird.” He instantly facepalms himself mentally, fighting the urge to turn back time to take back his words, but it’s too late when your brows rise, lips parting slightly in surprise before looking down at your lap with a slight frown.

“Oh, sorry. That was weird, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine.” His heart stings in his chest, he can feel it clenching painfully leaving nothing but a hollow feeling in the depths of his stomach when he realises you’re upset. “Why’d you ask that anyway?”

Maybe he can shift the narrative, find out a way to spin the conversation back to kissing. He still has a chance. “Have you never kissed anyone before?”

“I have!” The pout is back on your face, but not from being sad; he can tell the difference, so he sighs in relief. But still…the way your lower lip juts out slightly has him fighting the urge to tug and bite at it. “I’m not a virgin, idiot.”

He doesn’t bother trying to hide the surprise on his face, and you notice. “What? It’s that hard to believe someone would fuck me? Am I that ugly or something?” 

The effects of the weed start kicking in,  now you feel yourself getting emotional over nothing.

“I never even said anything.” 

“You didn’t need to. I’m not stupid, Haru.”

He flexes his jaw as he glares at you, trying to shovel his anger down. The argument is pointless, so he stays silent, bringing the blunt back to his lips. He inhales it for longer this time, and it can’t possibly be healthy for his lungs, but he doesn’t care.

“What time is it?” you ask, and his hand squeezes your waist tighter, stopping you from squirming from his lap.

“Why do you need the time?”

“Because I gotta get going at seven.”

“...why ?”

“Because…” you chirp, shifting to face him with a huge smile on your face, “I’ve got a date.” 

When you bite down on your lip, he can’t even be bothered to look down at it, or notice it. It’s silent in the car as you wait for Haru to be your best friend/wingman that hypes you, ask you for his name, height, age, job, personality, whatever. But he’s silent, face unreadable, and the tension in the car rises thick when he continues to stay silent; your excitement fades along with your smile.

He knows he’s been silent for too long, now everything is awkward, but he can’t find the right words to say. Congratulations? It’s just a date, what do you expect him to do? Find you wedding rings? 

His brain isn’t co-operating either, not in the right state of mind to process his words like a filter, so he says nothing before he says something he’ll regret.

“...Anyway,” you have to choke your words out, refusing to show your slight embarrassment, “hurry up and get high, so I can leave and get laid.”

“I am high.”

“Then I can leave.”

“No, you can’t.” He glares back when you glare at him, but he can’t find it in himself to control himself any longer. Maybe it was a bad idea to get high in a confided space with you, on his lap, with your face so close to his. 

“Why can’t I?”

“...’cause he’s a loser, and you don’t wanna get laid by a loser.”

You snort. “He’s the only loser available, so maybe I do want to.”

“What if…there’s another loser available?” He goes stiff and still when your eyes flick up to his face, looking concentrated at him eye to eye as if you were trying to decipher his words. “Me. I’m the loser.”

“You?” He simply nods and you do the opposite and shake your head. “You’re not a loser.”

“Yeah, I am.” You shift on his lap when he shrugs, leaning his head back against the headrest, and you watch as smoke leaves his lips as he exhales. 

His senses are intensified with the drugs, your fingers tickling their way up his shoulders, along his neck, to behind his head, lacing them between his soft hair. Leaning down, you hold his face in your hands and kiss him.

The moment your lips touch his, he feels like the world paused, and he’s dying to find whoever has control over the remote of his life so they could press play and he could embrace you like he deserves. Or, maybe he’s dying, and whoever is up there allows him to imagine just one night with you before he fades into nothing.

It’s real, all real. The tender slide of your lips against his are real, the sensation of his teeth sinking into your soft plump lips, biting, and nibbling at it is real, the gentle moans he eagerly draws from your lips when his tongue swipes against yours, wet, messy and sloppy is real. 

“Fuck—” you whisper along the swell of his lips, pulling away to examine his face.

He looks gone, shallow half-lidded eyes looking up at you with blown wide pupils, mouth half open as if he’s forgotten how to close it. 

“Haru, you there?” Your knuckle traces along the side of his face, stopping under his chin, lifting it to look up at you.

“Yeah yeah, ‘m here.” 

Your giggle echoes in his ears, and he’s never been harder in his life, cock pressing uncomfortably tight against his pants. “Good, because you look wasted right now.”

“Just, fuck— stop talkin’. C’mere.” He pulls you down for a kiss with a hand at the back of your head, sloppily working his mouth against yours. He tastes like weed, the smell strong but it doesn’t stop you from licking into his mouth, desperate to drive the strong taste away and replace it. 

Big, strong hands wander the length of your back, slipping under your shirt, cold hands hugging you tight, tight to his body that you can’t help but arch into him.

A sound that comes from the inside of the house has you pulling away, turning to face the window, and he trails his lips down the length of your neck. His nose pokes into the flesh of your neck as he sucks deep, red hickeys onto the plane of your neck, breathing heavily as he savours the feeling of your soft feeling of your skin. 

He could get used to this; the weed makes him feel like your skin is ten times softer, or maybe that’s how it generally feels and you’re just perfect, so soft everywhere. 

“Tak—take this off.” The words are lost to your neck as he sucks along the column of your throat, rogue hands wandering along your chest, up your shirt, kneading your tits through your bra.

“Okay, okay, wait —” When you pull backwards, he follows, leaning up from the seat, lips attached to your neck by the hip. “Haru. If you want to see me naked, you’re gonna have to let me remove my clothes.”

“Just…wait a min’ longer…” He sucks harder, and you shudder as shivers race down your body at the feeling of his teeth nibbling at the sensitive part of your neck. When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, admiring his handiwork. “You look so sexy like this, fuck.” He’s tugging your shirt off, throwing it behind you, uncaring of where it lands. 

Warm hands roam your stomach, your sides, sliding up further to wrap around your throat. “So beautiful ‘n sexy, just for me.”

“You already said sexy.” He hums absentmindedly, obviously not paying attention if the way he’s squeezing the fat of your breasts were any indication. 

“You’re sexy times two.” He grins up at you before pulling your bra cup down, and you inhale sharply when it brushes down your nipple. “No, no actually. Times infinity.”

You flush hot at his words, especially when his lips brush against your ears, biting down against the shell. He’s sweating from the heat in the car plus the heat from both your panting bodies. 

“Don’t you think we should—ah fuck—” He tugs you upwards on his lap, your clothed cunt grinding against his hard cock, hands curling into fists behind his neck. 

“We should what?” His musical chuckle vibrates along your ear, sending cold shivers down your spine, forcing you to arch to chase the feeling away. You squeal when he bites down along your ear once more, smirkingpleasantly at the soft, squishy press of your tits against his chest.

“We should go to your room. I mean there’s not much room in here.” Your neck aches from the angle you’re sitting at, neck bent at an awkward angle to avoid hitting the roof of the car. 

There’s not enough space in this crammed car to fit yourself comfortably. Haru, on the other hand, is more than comfortable, seated on the seats like a king that’s blessed the majestic view of your half naked body atop of his. 

“I got an idea,” he says, not giving you a moment to wonder what he’s thinking before he’s lifting you from his lap, plopping you onto the seats. Your forearm darts quickly to cover your chest when he pops the car door open, lips pressed together tightly as he walks to the front seat, yanks the door open without a care and readjusts the seats back, pushing it till there’s enough room between the wheel. “This space big enough for ya?”

You tilt your head past the seat, surveying the space with a keen eye. There’s enough room for you to kneel down and take his cock in your mouth without a fuss or a struggle. A bed sounds nicer though, the thought of sinking into his soft mattress as he fucks you crosses your mind, but it’s overpowered when you remember his siblings are home and you’d rather die than let them hear you.

“Seems good,” you shrug, sliding quickly out the car; the cold air from the garage AC hits you smack in the chest, hardening your nipples momentarily. 

“Ah, ah wait.” Haru pulls you back before you could climb on top of him. The cute way your tilt your head at him, confused, makes his heart do a triple beat for a moment. “I wanna try somethin’.”

“Okay…” 

It’s stressful the way he’s manouevring you along the seat, pressing your back into the front seat as he shifts to kneel between your legs. “Hold your legs up for me.”

You swallow hard, unable to taste your saliva with how fast your nerves are racing. Doing as he said, you bring your hands under your thighs, holding them up as he tugs your pants down, struggling to get them past your bent knees, glaring at you when you choke on your laugh, muttering out a quick apology. 

“Don’t apologise now. You’ll be beggin’ for it later, trust me.”

His confidence is over the roof right now, evident in his strong posture, shoulders back as he leans forward, swiping a finger along your folds with ease. 

“You’re really wet.” Your slick catches on the tip of his finger, and you want to hide your face between your hands when his pink tongue darts out to lick at it. 

“Could you maybe not do that? It’s awkward…”

He hums when he looks at you; now it’s his turn to tilt his head at you. “How else am I supposed to eat you out then?” His hands press themselves between yours under your thighs, and your back aches from almost sliding down the seat in this awkward position. “You want me to skip the prep? Fuck you into the seat right now?”

“I mean—” It sounds like a good idea, but then you remember the length and thickness of his cock through his pants and swallow excessively. “Prep please.”

He smiles at you, the car light reflecting off the side of his face as he dips his face closer, digging his fingers into the swell of your thighs, nose pressed against your folds and sniffs so hard it’s like a vacuum, your clit tingles with the need to have his tongue in you. 

“This gonna sound so weird, but I really don’t give a fuck but…” he moans as he licks along your slit, a long, wet stripe from the bottom to the top, “you taste so good, fuck—”

“Haru stop…” He seals his lips around your clit, fingernails digging into your thighs as he sucks hard, numbing your clit with the continous flicks of his tongue moving at rapid speed. “Oh my go—”

Your hands fight the urge to fly to his hair, pull him closer to grind his nose against your stubborn clit, but you remember his instructions, to keep your hands on your thighs, keep you spread open for him. 

He’s devouring your pussy like a starved individual, flicking his tongue rapidly, slurping the wetness that drips from your puffy folds. You try to close your legs, try to squirm away from the ticklish feeling of his wet tongue trying to squeeze its way through your cunt, but it’s intoxicating, and overwhelming, especially when his finger tickles against your hole.

It’s fascinating watching it go in and out, and Haru dreads pulling his mouth away from your cunt but he needs to watch your face as his finger slides knuckle deep inside you. His bloodshot eyes twinkle as he watches your slick coat the length of his finger, translucent liquid dripping down his knuckles to the seat. 

“You always get this wet?”

“I don’t know…” It’s not often you finger yourself, so the experience is first hand. You’re also partially amazed that your body managed to produce this much slick from a single finger. “Wait, wait, right there. That feels so good—”

“Here?” His finger curls inside you, itching the side of that spongy spot. 

“No, no—not there, wait—” Your hips shift to the side a little, then it’s like something switches inside you, hands shaking against your thighs as he spreads you out with a second finger, applying pressure to that spot that has your moans increasing in pitch. 

His cock twitches with the need to replace his fingers, sink himself deep inside you, watch your eyes cross as you melt in pleasure. He leans forward, slurping, sucking along the sensitive hood of your clit.

Your body feels numb, voice coming out as breathy pants as you tilt your head back to hit the headrest, giving into the warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside your abdomdem as he fingers you to your climax. 

He knows that you're close when your walls cling and squeeze his fingers tight, barely giving him enough room to move them. His own tongue slithers through your folds, lapping up the leftover slick. The taste of you is better than he’d expected, and he thinks he could live between your legs for the rest of his life. 

There’s a swell of pride swirling through his chest when he feels you lose yourself on his fingers and tongue, your teeth pressing into your bottom lip painfully as you jolt and sit up from the effects of your orgasm. Your hands forget holding your thighs up, gripping onto his hair tied up loosely in a ponytail and tug him forward, craving the warmth of his mouth sealed around your clit as your world comes tumbling down.

It takes a couple moments for you to get yourself together, still holding painfully onto his hair before letting go. He presses ticklish kisses along your thighs, licking at the wetness spread along them. 

“That was—” You swallow, trying to find the words since your brain isn’t co-operating. “That was so good.”

You look all cute when flustered, face heated and flushed, your pretty lips left open as you pant heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath. 

“Think I found my new addiction.” He grins up at you, big hands squeezing the fat of your thighs as he kneels up between your legs, wrapping them around his waist and leans in for a kiss.

Your hands cup his cheeks, holding him close to you as he licks into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, giving you a moment to gather your nerves because you’re going to need it. 

“I’m ready,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling the shiver that races down his spine.

“Bet, okay. Hold on.” He draws back, big hands spreading your thighs apart.

You look at him through your lashes as he sheds his shirt, tossing it behind you. His body is lean, capacious, abs faint but visible and your mouth waters, hand flying out to run down his stomach. Your touch is so light, his muscles flinching away from the ticklish feeling. Everything you do to him makes him feel so good. 

He grips both your hands, pinning them above the headrest. “Keep ‘em there,” he says, unbuckling his belt, sliding his pants down to his knees. He grabs a condom from his back pocket, ignoring your humourless stare.

“You planned this?” You gesture at the condoms with your head. 

“Better be safe than sorry.” He bites the end of the wrapper, pulling the condom out, rolling it slowly down his shaft. 

Your eyeroll is cut short when the tip of his cock angles itself at your entrance. He can see the way you’re dripping, the slick smeared along your thighs. 

Warmth engulfs the head of his cock as he slowly pushes it in you, and he hisses, biting his lip to stop himself from thinking how good you feel, how tight you’re going to squeeze his cock, how he’s going to cum inside you—

You’re panting, the tip of his cock stretching you out, almost screaming when it pushes past, the thick head making you dizzy it carves a path inside you. “Ah, Haru that—” He pushes deeper, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him.

Haru swears, gripping onto the base of his cock, squeezing it to stop himself from cumming too quickly, pushing through the urge to shove the rest of his length inside you. He stills halfway, needing to take a moment to compose himself, his mind fuzzy and warm, and he feels lightheaded. 

He has to close his eyes, knowing if he looks down, seeing his cock between your legs, halfway inside you, he’d cum in an instant. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to wait—I can take it,” you pant, hips desperately trying to rut forward. “Please…”

He takes a moment to swallow, groaning lowly, as he pushes the rest of his cock inside you, trying to ignore the tight suction of your walls. The moment he bottoms out, he’s falling forward, dipping his face between your neck and shoulder and moans, the sound desperate and needy, causing your pussy to clench and quiver around him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, arms wrapping around his head as you hold him closely, enjoying the feeling of his breath tickling your shoulders. “You okay?” 

It’s funny how you’re asking him this instead of the other way round, and a part of you feels pride in the fact you could make someone this desperate and needy without effort. 

“I’m good…it’s just…fuck , you’re so tight.” He forces himself to inhale deeply, eyes squeezing shut painfully to compose himself. He shivers at the feeling of your nails raking up and down his hair, scratching at his scalp addictvely. “You’re good though, right? It doesn’t hurt?”

You shake your head, smiling softly at him. “Nah. The seats a little uncomfortable but…that’s about it. You can move, Haru.”

“It’s uncomfy? Oh…” You almost want to cry when he pulls out, but he’s lifting you from the seat, switching your positions, slotting you back down on his lap. 

“You want me to ride you?”

He nods, biting his lip when you grab onto his cock, seating yourself down on his cock. 

“Oh my god—” You feel so full, his thick cock stretches your walls, whimpering beside his ear when he rolls his hips sensually, pressing his cock deeper inside you. 

“ Holy shit , you’re so tight.” Your pussy drives him into a frenzy, eyes threatening to roll back at the way your cunt squeezes him so tight, clinging to every inch of him. 

He swears, voice low, sounding wrecked as you begin riding him a little faster, slowly lifting your hips up and down. The obscene squelch of your pussy grasping pathetically around his thick shaft has him biting his lip so hard he might draw blood. 

“ Haru.” You wail his name, collapsing onto his chest, shuddering when his hands, rough and warm, grab onto your hips to slow your pace down. 

“Yeah?” His voice is quiet, like a whisper, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Lemme move—” You trail your lips down his neck in an attempt to soften him, waiting for him to let go of you so you can move faster. There’s a nudging spot inside you, an itch that needs to be scratched. Your attempt to move is shut down again, frustration building up and up the longer you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Haru please…”

“If I let go, you gotta promise to take it slow.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” You whisper along his lips, tugging at it with your teeth. He groans into your mouth, and shifts for a moment, his cock follows suit, twitching desperately for some friction. “Wait, do that again.”

“This?” He rolls his hips upwards, rolls your hips backwards and forwards, and you drip a little wetter down his leg, wetting his thighs. 

“Yes. Do it again.” 

He starts a steady pace, steady enough for you to feel the way he’s deliberately aiming at that spot in you that makes you squirm around. 

“I’m so close.” He says beside your ear, his voice lingering in your head, clouded by the feeling of his hands roaming your back, scratching at it with every bounce you give him. 

“Me…me too.” 

He’s tense, gritting his teeth when you clench around him. You shift backwards, unslinking your hands from around his neck to grab at his knees, using them as leverage to support yourself as you roll your hips in circles.

He can feel the energy buzzing between you both, can feel the tingling sensation on the edge of his fingertips, the drugs running through his veins has the regular feeling of sex intensifieid, and he swears he can feel every inch of you. 

Everything is so hot right now, the temperature in the car, the feel of your hands braced against his knees, the way your nails dig into the bone, the way your tits bounce in his face as you fuck yourself on his cock. 

You clench when you cum, and he leans forward suddenly, grabbing your hips to lift you up, slamming you back down with a loud moan, hips jerking as he cums inside you. 

You’re shaking, trembling at the feeling of his cum spurting inside you, the wet sensation is ticklish, cold shivers running down your spine. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles again, holding you down to feel your greedy walls sucking him in further. “Holy fuck, I could stay here forever.”

“I need a shower.” You say once you come back to your senses, groaning softly when you lift yourself up and off his cock, the wet squelch following after echoes throughout the car. 

“That’s so hot.” He mutters, eyes wide with fascincation as he reaches out to thumb at your clit, enjoying the way you shiver and let out a soft moan as he rubs it in circles. “Holy shit that’s so hot. You’re so hot.”

“I kno—” It’s distracting when you can feel his cum dripping out from you slowly making you lose your train of thought , the drip of it is anticipating until it forms a small pool between both of your bodies. “I know.”

“You hesitated.” 

“I didn’t.”

He removes his thumb, wiping the wetness from it along his tongue, tasting you, and you feel your face flush at the action, burning hot when looks up at you, the corners of his mouth dragging up slowly. “You did.”

“Shut up.” 

Sanzu’s reaching towards the backseat for his stash, and you laugh at how his arm barely reaches it, flailing it uselessly around the air. 

“You’re not gonna reach it, Haru.”

“Watch me.”

He grunts and groans like he’s lifting heavy bricks, and you start to take pity on him. “Dude, just give up.”

“No.”

 If there’s one thing about Sanzu it’s that he’s determined, but not in the way you think. It’s more the stubborn version, always trying to do the impossible, ignoring you when you tell him it’s not possible, then sulks when he fails. 

He clicks his tongue, shifting you down on his lap so he has more room and this time successfully grabs at it. “Told you. Always hatin’ on me.”

You giggle, faint and shrill, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder, watching him dug through the contents of the bag, his slender, skilled fingers professionally rolling another blunt. 

It’s silent in the car again, you two both bask in each other’s presence. Both of you refusing to discuss what happened earlier, not sure if those sudden feelings you felt were because of the weed or if there’s something else deep inside, a false truth you’ve refused to make terms with, or shoved them aside for another unknown reason unbeknownst to you.

Your head is racing with thoughts, pictures of Haru wondering where you suddenly felt these emotions towards him came from. The thought of sharing him with anyone else angers you, but it shouldn’t because you’re both friends. The thought of him laying in a car with another girl on top of him angers you, makes you feel bitter and resentment towards this imaginary woman your brain fabricated inside your head.

It’s like your body is working against you. 

Stupid weed. 

Haru’s gone for the second time today, and for the first time in what felt like ten minutes—in actuality it was only three—you look up at him. He looks like he’s falling asleep, those chubby cheeks of his so promising, so soft, you can’t help but shift upwards, pressing soft kisses against them.

It should be weird to him  that he doesn’t question your sudden out of character movements, but then again you both did just have sex not longer than five minutes ago. 

His phone rings at the backseat, pulling you away from his neck where you were sucking fresh purple hickeys onto and he groans when your ass brushes aginst his cock. It’s been slightly hard the entire time, still not over his recent orgasm, but not strong enough to maintain itself to stand tall. 

“What’re you doin’?” You freeze as your hand hovers over his phone. 

“Your phone’s been ringing non-stop. It’s irritating.” The caller ID is Ran, and part of you wants to answer it so you can know what he looks like. It’s been nudging at your brain the entire time, trying to figure out which one of his friends is who, trying to put the pieces of the faceless group of boys together to solve the puzzle. 

“Just ignore it—okay then.” You answer the phone away, turning the camera away from your naked body onto Sanzu’s face. You squirm around, trying to find where Sanzu threw your bra and shirt as the two engage in small talk.

“What do you want?”

Ran snorts on the other end, his voice deep, familiar, and husky. “Don’t needa get all pissy, you big baby. Takeomi wants to know where you are.”

“What the fuck does that have to do wit’ me?”

“Call him, or somethin’. I don’t fuckin’ know?”

Haru sniffs, nose wrinkling when the smoke he blows out invades his nostrils. “Tell him I’m busy.”

“Being a fuckin’ junkie?” Ran snorts, petty and bitterly, voice now laced in sarcasm. “So productive.”

Haruchiyo rolls his eyes at the same time you put your shirt back on, reaching under your shirt to fix the straps of your bra. “I’m doing more than getting high, you slug. I’m with my friend.”

You had tuned out the conversation from the beginning, your main priority being your clothes, but at the mention of ‘friend’, he jostles his leg, catching your attention. “Say hello.”

“Uh…hello?”

“Oh? Who might you be?”

“I’m—” Haruchiyo ends the call before you could even get the first letter of your name out. “What the hell?”

He lazily shrugs, tossing his phone into the backseat without a care. It hits the edge of the seat, before hitting the floor with a mild smack. Two noble fingers grasp at your chin, redirecting your gaze from his probably broken phone to his face. 

The kiss is passionate, and long, his wet slide of his tongue laving itself inside your mouth. Your face grows hot when his lips wrap around the length of your tongue, sucking the moisture from it, replacing it with his own. It’s messy but you don’t care, happily drinking the mixed saliva from his mouth. 

His sharp teeth sink into your lips, stopping you from pulling away, kissing you with fervour as his heavy head spins, and bright flashes of colour appears behind his closed eyes.

“I’m so hungry,” he gasps out when he finally pulls away, wiping the saliva from his mouth with his forearm, giving you back the breath he stole from your lungs with that kiss.

“You want me to drive you to McDonalds?”

He grins up at you, that stupid adorable look on his face that has your heart warming in your chest. “Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

“It’s my way of forcing some food down your throat before you die of starvation.”

“What if I was thirsty instead?”

“McDonalds sells drinks, dumbass.”

“ Or… ” He places his hands on your hips, pulling you forward on his lap. You yelp at the motion, hands flying to the headrest behind him to stabilise yourself. 

What he’s insinuating is lost to you for a moment, only becoming obvious when his hand snakes down to your pussy, thumb nudging insistently at your clit. His eyes dip down to your chest, your nipples still hard and poking through the thin fabric of your shirt, then drags them back up to your face and smiles.

“You’re so horny.” Your eyeroll is fabricated and fake, part of you deep down wants it too. 

“You like it though.” It’s true, and he knows it too. The defeated look on your face is all he needs to know when he moves to open the car door, nodding his head outside. “Let’s go to my room now.”

[simpjaes]

what do u think abt policeman!jake pulling u over for speeding but u forgot ur ID so u ask him if there’s anything u can do to make up it to him. thankfully jake has been eyeing u the whole time he pulled up over and stealing glances at he exposed chest in he tanktop. so he ends up saying, “there are a few things i can think of” 😉

let me just get this out of the way first: acab. fuck pigs. i hate cops.

anyway, police officer jake is the only cop i wouldn't fight.

in fact, let's just say he pulled you over once and did give you a ticket, and from that moment forward you learned the exact time and corner he likes to sit at to catch people.

you speed. a lot. and he pulls you over, a lot.

a warning every single time, never once a ticket. which leaves you to believe he knows what you're doing and is simply waiting for you to use your body to your advantage for him. It makes you feel bold.

it makes you feel capable.

So, you do. speeding at 50 in a 30, and he, of course, flashes those lights before following behind you.

how perfect, for there to be a lovely little area obscured by the road for you to pull into, right? an area you've considered for weeks through your reckless behavior.

an area that Jake, the police officer, has sat before looking for petty criminals in the form of speeding.

You're one of the pretty criminals though, and he's quick to come up to your window and greet you by first and last name.

"I have to give you a ticket this time, you know." He laughs in a flirty tone. "As much as I'd love to get you off this time, I can't."

You blink up at him with doe eyes, with that tank top on, knowing his eyes would travel down.

"Oh, is there anything I can do?"

"Your license again, please." He says, staring straight at your tits.

"Oh no--" You say immediately, knowing you have it pretending you don't. "I must have left it at home. Is there anything I can do?"

And he just stares, slowly smiling at the fact that you finally show your excuse as to why you keep speeding.

"You seem rather fond of the handcuffs, Miss, with the way you keep speeding for me to pull you over."

"Only if they're your handcuffs, officer."

He lends a chuckle, leaning into your window with one arm balancing him.

"Is that right?" He says, eyes scanning down to your legs, where your shorts hug your thighs. "I guess, in that case, there's a few things i can think of."

You smile, and he smiles.

Next thing you know, you find yourself in the back of a police car, one door ajar, one hand handcuffed to his drivers seat, and the other gripping his hair.

His breath is hot, and his uniform is scratchy, but fuck is his cock big. Pounding into you and splitting you open right there, as if criminals haven't cried and pleaded in the same spot the same way you are for more, more, more.

-

part two here

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling the cops (twice, kind of) on someone in a car who swerved at me on the side of the road?

(Disclaimer: I hate cops. But I felt extremely threatened and wasn't going to let this go without something happening.)

I am a high school student and have not yet gotten my license, and therefore cannot drive alone. To get to school I ride an electric scooter, it looks a bit stupid as a high schooler but it is the only way possible for me to get to school on time. (I have a class before school in the morning, and both parents have work.) I've been doing this for over three years and have had no problems until recently.

Two or three weeks ago, I was on my way home from school. I noticed a car approaching from behind, and moved to the very edge of the road as I would normally. I was literally in the gutter on the side of the road, nowhere near where cars would be. This car, however, then sped up rapidly and swerved within 2-3 feet of hitting me. Probably not trying to actually hit me, but clearly trying to scare me or something of the sort. The person in the passenger seat was screaming the whole time.

The car sped off (I should mention that the speed limit on this road is 25 mph, and the car was going at least 50-60 mph) and after standing in shock for a moment I followed them home since they apparently lived in my neighborhood. I caught two teenage boys leaving the car, and asked if they had been in that car and had swerved at me on the road. They denied everything and went inside the house.

I went home and after a short while, came back with my father to back me up. Asshole move from me, I know, but he insisted on going in case the boys decided to get violent. I made him wait a short distance back, then rang the doorbell. Waited for a while, no answer. They were clearly still inside; the car was still parked on the road nearby and I hadn't been gone for long.

When they didn't answer, I then went home and called the police. I gave them the license plate number and the guy's address, and they said there had been reports of him speeding and being reckless before. The cops went to the house and yelled at them, and I thought it was over then. I most certainly did not want to press the issue any further, the shock and adrenaline was wearing off at this point and I just wanted to be done.

But several days later, I was sent screenshots of the driver of that car spreading hate about me on Snapchat for getting him in trouble. Now this is kind of difficult to explain, but I am unfortunately somewhat well known for riding an electric scooter to school. But up until this point, people just were aware of my existence. After the Snapchat posts and messages about me were spread, all of that turned into pure hate. Every time I was seen with that stupid scooter, people would scream that they wished I would fall and stuff like that. None of this had happened before, and I was (and am) miserable and scared. I don't feel safe anywhere around school because this is still ongoing.

I also tried to contact him via Instagram messages, to which he did not respond. That was three times that I attempted to contact him: first by following him as he was getting out of the car, second by ringing the doorbell, and third by messaging him.

Two days ago, I got my mom to pull me out of school early because I was feeling like crap after some particularly bad harassment in the morning. In the office as I was asking to sign out, I started crying in front of the school police officer, and she asked for the full story. I told her about the online posts and the catcalling and harassment I dealt with every day, and she took it very seriously. I didn't want her to do anything really, but she did anyway (I'm not upset about this honestly, it was probably a good thing). She said that the patrol officers usually didn't do much about stuff like this, but she could and would do a lot more.

She pulled the guy out of his class after I had left to go home, and in her words "put the fear of God in that kid"; telling him he should have lost his license and that since he was 18 he could face real consequences and go to jail for stuff like this. He has been told that he has to stay at least three feet away from me at all times.

Since then, he hasn't said anything to me in person, and hasn't posted anything publicly online. I still don't feel safe at school or anywhere in the area, but I've been taking an alternate route to try to avoid being seen and yelled at as much.

Am I the asshole? I honestly think we both might be, but I do feel somewhat justified by the fact that he at least got some sort of consequence for threatening my life like that and causing that level of problem.

What are these acronyms?

[pinkrangersarah]

Please do the random headcanons you've got for the Fearless 7, I really wanna know what you have in mind and also feel free to even make a post for every single one of them!

Thank you, I love ya! 🙏🏻

shout out to @kehnarii for sending me all these requests, you are truly a peach and I am delighted to answer anything you send <333

anyway, I have thought about these clowns a ridiculous amount and what better way to dump all those thoughts here because lmaooo what else am I gonna do with them. i'm going to keep them here, though, for simplicity sake.

Merlin

Merlin and Arthur are half brothers, having the same father but different mothers; Merlin's mother is the current queen of Camalot. They're from the same fairy tale but the dynamic is wildly different, so I thought them being half brothers would be kind of a neat spin. Arthur is the oldest of the two.

Had to study magic in some secrecy as the texts he used formerly belonged to Arthur's first step-mother who turned out to be a witch. This is partially why lightning, despite its versatility, is his only spell.

Vegetarian. Nothing else to say here. Just a vibe I get from him.

Bi-curious, I think. Definitely leans toward women, but he'd be lying if he said he hasn't found a man or two attractive.

Shit driver. Do they have cars? Probably not, but consider a modern day setting. He's the worst driver out of the seven of them. Has absolutely stayed at a right-on-red light way too long due to panic, pissing off everyone behind him. This but it's Merlin and Jack.

Decent with kids. Knows a couple of party magic tricks and kids tend to like them.

Arthur

Arthur has a younger half sister, Morgan--or better known as Morgana Le Fay--a witch who is mysteriously absent. She is the king of Camalot's second child from his second wife, which makes her Merlin's older half sister. Arthur was very close to her up until her disappearance; having been raised with a bias toward witches, it made for a rather difficult separation.

Not the dumb jock stereotype some people make him out to be! While he can be reckless, brash, and immature, Arthur does have political knowledge and knows the ins and outs of his kingdom.

Straighter than Merlin's parking but a very vocal ally. Jack just casually implied he was bi and Arthur just scooped him up in a big hug and told him he would always support him. Jack was high-key confused, low-key annoyed but appreciated the sentiment anyway.

Second worst driver, mostly due to not paying attention to speed limits. Or stop lights. Just not paying attention period. Low-key road rage.

Arthur is great with kids, probably because A) he is a big brother and B) he's a big guy so kids want to climb him like a jungle gym.

Jack

Adopted into royalty as his step-father, a king, married his mother after Jack defeated the Giant and made his family wealthy.

His mother has a tendency to be emotionally manipulative, only being a doting mother whenever he does something that benefits her, such as stealing from and slaying the Giant. She was kinder when his father was alive, but only got nastier after he perished at the hands of the Giant.

Although he had been pampered and brought up as a true prince since ever since his mother married into the royal family (he was about ten years old), there is a part of him that has not forgotten where he came from. He grew up on a farm. His father taught him how to fight. Jack is stronger than he looks and can be scrappy if absolutely need be.

While the other guys of the F7 drive him absolutely insane sometimes, Jack prefers them over his own family since he's allowed to be himself around them. He's gotten used to the princely persona, but there is a small, unacknowledged part of him that kind of hates it due to the role having been practically forced on him.

He does genuinely like nice things, though. Low-key bird brain.

Jack is the only multilingual of the seven, speaking not only English and French but also German and Italian. This is only a little annoying to Hans and the triplets as they can't hide anything from him in their native tongues.

Biologically, Jack is an only child. He does, however, have an older step brother whom he has mixed feelings for.

Bisexual with a leaning toward women

His name actually is "Jacques", but people kept pronouncing it as "Jack" and he eventually gave up correcting them. Will end the bloodline of anyone who calls him "Jackie", though.

Decent driver. Sometimes gets way too into whatever he's listening to and misses an exit or turn. Is usually the navigator or DJ. Is the type to yell "I will turn this car around" if people are arguing in the backseat.

Terrible with kids. The house is on fire. God is dead. Wine aunt.

Hans

Hans and his sister, Gretel, are twins, though Hans is the older of the two. It's where his mom friend demeanor comes from.

Is honestly the best liar out of the seven of them. He doesn't lie often, doesn't like doing so, but he has such an honest face and earnest demeanor that he can make anyone believe just about anything.

Pansexual but I don't think he'd know that about himself. He just likes people.

Best driver out of the seven of them, but does that soccer mom thing if he has to slam on the brakes unexpectedly. Can't read a map to save his life, though.

Also great with kids. He's also a big brother, and his genuinely kind and upbeat nature makes kids gravitate toward him.

Pino, Noki, & Kio

As they all have a very similar fashion sense, even they sometimes aren't sure whose clothes are whose.

They do have distinguishing features if one is to look close enough. The height difference isn't much, but it is there with Pino and Kio being the tallest and Noki the shortest. Kio is the only one with freckles. Pino has heterochromia with one blue eye and one brown.

They are introduced from oldest to youngest. Pino is the oldest of the triplets, Noki being the middle and Kio the youngest. Noki is only a little salty that Kio is taller than him despite being younger.

kio vc: you're older by like eight minutes

noki vc: I will break your knee caps

Terrible liars. They get flustered quickly and contradict one another. Can't keep a secret to save their lives and it's usually Kio who breaks first. (I know this is sort of contradictory, but they're based off Pinocchio so I think it'd be fitting if they were some of the worst liars among the seven of them.)

Noki read Jack's trashy romance novels. He thinks they're hilariously terrible. Would honestly probably like Twilight for the same reason.

Decent drivers but cannot be left in any vehicle alone together. If there's no else there to keep them on track, they will get way too into a conversation and get completely lost.

Have the potential to be okay with kids (that ending credit sequence give some the impression those three kids were low-key adopted by them or at least became assistants or something), but they do need to be kept in check due to their mad scientist energies.

[got-ticket-to-ride]

Dropping the Beatles Bank Heist video that was made possible thanks to all your lovely comments on this poll.

Personally, Paul is the one I voted for. I have full trust in workaholic Paulie to make a plan and push through. I EVEN PICKED HIM OVER JOHNNY. Sorry John. But I know Lennon/Mccartney would've come as a package anyway.

This poll taught me the following:

-Paul is the one you go to if you want someone to bat their eyelashes at someone. In conclusion, he is the femme fatale of the group.

-Do not give John any weapon because he'll likely blow something up.

-Geo is calm and perfect as can be but would probably be too lazy to even help out. But he is the perfect getaway driver (because he'd also hate not being the reckless driver as substantiated by this post). Also Paul and George bickering is funny as hell.

-Ringo is the most calm and reliable to approach, he also was in a gang and would be the most fun to go to prison with.

I didn't even realize how long this would take me to do today. But I enjoyed the comments so much, I couldn't not compile them in a video. Very sorry to those I had to cut because it would've been alot longer. I am so sorry guys! (Besides the fact that everybody's usernames got butchered as well). Hoping to do another one of these though.

I am planning on posting this on youtube, if you don't want your comment included, don't hesitate to send me a message or comment. I will edit it out. Thanks to everyone who participated in the poll! <3 Would love to hear your thoughts anytime!

[vodika-vibes]

Hiiii CONGRATS on 650!!! Can’t wait to see you hit 1000 in like 2 months because you are so amazing!!

Ok can we get a little Enemies to lovers/a lil bit of Romeo and Juliet modern Au with tech?

Could it be something like He and reader are both race car drivers of opposing teams and at first they hate each other but then they fall in love but obviously their teams don’t like that…

Congrats again!! Can’t wait to see what you come up with for this and any other prompts !!🫶🏻

Never Enough

Summary: You’re a motorcycle racer, and you’re pretty good if you say so yourself. Good enough that you make a living doing it. Your biggest rival, Tech, is just as good as you are, if not better in some ways. Your team hates him, and his team hates you. Too bad for them that you love Tech, and he loves you.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 1104

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers AU

Warnings: Some adult conversation topics

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Sorry that this took so long, I had an idea, but I wasn't able to write it as I planned, and so I had to scrap the whole story and start fresh this morning. Anyway, I hope you like this!

It’s late.

The sun has long since set, and the moon is slowly making its way across the sky, and the afterparty for your most recent win ended several hours ago. 

This means the members of your crew have long since returned to their respective hotels, and you are, finally, alone with your thoughts. 

You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow marks the start of your long journey back home. But you can’t seem to get your mind to settle.

And the reasoning for that? Tech is supposed to come and visit you tonight and you can’t wait. 

Once upon a time, you and Tech hated each other. You thought that he was arrogant and pig-headed. He thought that you were careless and reckless. And then one of your sponsors bought out one of his sponsors, and the pair of you were forced to do a photoshoot together.

A photoshoot where you were both shoved into bathing suits and pressed against each other in various poses.

At the end of the photoshoot, Tech kissed you. He said it was an accident, that he didn’t mean to do it. But the next night, he came to your hotel room and kissed you again. 

And it kept happening, until, one night, you showed up at his hotel room and asked to spend the night.

It was the start of a whirlwind, and totally secret, relationship. 

You scramble to your feet when you hear a knock at the door. It takes you a moment to make sure that your robe is secure, and a moment longer to check who’s outside the door.

And then you pull the door open to greet Tech with a small smile. 

He has a bottle of wine in his hand and has two wine glasses hanging from his fingers. “Wine?” You ask as you move to the side to allow him in the room. 

His dark gaze slides down your body, and then he steps into the room, “To celebrate your victory, of course.”

You laugh softly, “I only won because you weren’t racing today. You had some bike trouble?”

Tech sets the wine and glasses on the table and sinks onto the couch, “The transport company damaged the bike. It happens, but it is still annoying.”

“Well, that’s what insurance is for, right?” You reply as you walk over to him to sit next to him. A giggle falls from your lips as he tugs you onto his lap and his hands slide under your robe.

“Exactly. But I was able to watch the race,” His deft fingers find the tie to your robe and he tugs it open, “You looked amazing.” Tech’s gaze flickers down to see what you’re wearing under your robe, and he smirks, “Almost as good as you look now.”

“Well, it’s not like I can race in lingerie.” You tease as you allow him to slide the silky material off your shoulders to pool on the floor.

Tech hums as his calloused fingers slide over your ribs, “You could. I would not stop you.”

You shake your head and shift so that you’re straddling him as you wrap your arms around his neck, “Silly man, that’s not safe.” You whisper against his lips.

“Would be hot though,” He murmurs in reply as he catches your lips with his own.

You kiss him back deeply, your fingers moving to slide through his hair, “And you would be okay with that? Everyone and their cousin seeing me in my lingerie?”

Tech pauses and pulls back so he’s able to look at you properly, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips, “Why not? You are mine, after all.”

“Possessive.” There’s no heat in your words because you know that Tech isn’t like that, not really.

“Sure, something like that.” He pulls you into another kiss, one of his hands settling on the back of your neck to hold you against him, and then his lips trail to your throat. “So,” He murmurs against your skin, “I was thinking.”

“Oh?”

“How would you feel about combining our teams?”

You comb your fingers through his hair as you consider his question, “My sister hates your brothers.”

“Your sister wants to drag Hunter into a storage closet and ride him until neither of them can think straight.” Tech corrects.

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive, darling.”

He chuckles, and pulls away to look up at you, “I hate that we spend so little time together,” Tech admits quietly, “I hate that there are races you go to where I am not invited, and vice versa.”

You’re quiet for a moment and then you sigh, “This is about the Beach race, isn’t it.”

“You crashed. You could have died. You should have died.”

“I’m fine.”

His hand moves to press against the scar that you got from that crash. He’s not wrong, when you crashed a piece of rebar pierced your side and nearly killed you. You got a very nice settlement from the race organizers who didn’t make sure that there were no hazards like that around the race, but it doesn’t change that you’re only alive because of the hard work of your surgeons. 

“You’re fine now. What if it happens again?”

“You’re not asking me to give up racing?”

“I would never. All I want is to be there if it happens again.”

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking through his proposition, “I would like that.” You finally admit, “You being there for all of my races, and me being there for all of your races, would be better than having to watch the race on tv.”

“Exactly.”

“Plus,” You add quietly, “We’re pretty serious about each other, so this was going to happen eventually.”

“We are a little more than pretty serious, cyare.” Tech points out.

You lightly trail your fingers down his cheek, a small smile on your face, “Did you ever expect that we would be like this?”

He chuckles, “Never.” Tech pulls you into a kiss and then stands to carry you over to the bed, “But, I am very glad to be wrong.” You squeal as he drops you on the bed and then climbs over you and catches your lips with his one more time, “Congratulations on your win,” He breathes out, “Let me give you your reward.”

You know that this conversation isn’t over, you and Tech still have a lot of details you need to work out, but for now, you can put that to the side in favor of enjoying Tech and letting Tech enjoy you.

[estiebestieban]

omg your tags were ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! you understood exactly what i was trying to say in my post and i truly appreciate that.

of course no one HAS to like esteban but whenever i see someone hate on him i just want to ask "why?". because pretty much 99% of the time their reasoning for hating on esteban is based off one of the narratives that has been thoroughly disproved, not just in my post (i don't think that highly of myself lmao) but in many testimonies over the years. i've even seen people say they don't really know anything about him and then just write paragraphs of lies to justify their dislike of someone they OPENLY ADMIT they could be wrong about! and if their whole basis for hating on a driver is based on a bunch of lies, then what's left once the falsehoods are deconstructed you know? (and if you're one of the 1% then go ahead - i can't stop you lmao!)

also i actually had written a line about how esteban's teammates, who have all been VERY TALENTED when it comes to getting the media on their side, have absolutely used this negative perception of esteban to boost themselves (i even had interview quotes from fernando and pierre at the ready and was trying to find some from checo) but i ended up removing it because i didn't want to be accused of using my post to hate on the aforementioned drivers. because of course my extensively researched and cited 1000+ word essay that i spent hours on and collaborated with multiple blogs was all written for a single line in which i "hate" on two drivers...

there are definitely times where i wish that esteban would play the media game and speak his truth (and i think he's actually testing the waters a bit with very reasonable statements). but that's not how he wants to approach things and i have so much respect for that. and considering all the team principals (including his very likely future team principal ayao komatsu) and other paddock members have vouched for him over the years, i think it was the right decision.

anyways sorry for another mini-essay in your ask box but i just wanted to say thanks again for your tags <3

You're so right for your post and you're always invited into my askbox for mini (or full length tbh) essays because you get it!!! (As do all other esteban stans I've seen on here cheers to like all five of us.

As a Dutch fan, the one question I get asked most is "Oh you must be a Max fan, right?" and when my answer is no, people go down the list of possible drivers I could be a fan of, but somehow they never say Esteban. When I say I'm an Alpine fan, the gut punch response is always "Oh, Fernando/Pierre, I get it."

While there is nothing wrong inherently wrong with assuming favourites, it's wild to me that even when I narrow it down to three possible drivers, Esteban still isn't even considered.

Even when I'm surrounded by major fans of the sport, the concept of Esteban having a genuine fan is foreign to people. I understand that most people around me view the sport through the lens of the Viaplay vision (and previously ZiggoSport) which favours Max to the extreme, and who couldn't give less fucks about other drivers. Esteban is hardly mentioned during broadcast, and when he is, it is always in a negative way (that's what happens when you take out the golden boy once I guess)

I've had this discussion time and time again, where I point out that Esteban drives in a similar style like Fernando - but where Fernando is praised for his balls and his attitude, Esteban is shoved aside as reckless and a danger. Where Max is hailed as the second coming of Christ, Esteban is deemed as a liability on track.

Why? Because he isn't considered charismatic enough? Even when he has countless fun and endearing interviews?

The media continues to cut Esteban out of the narrative wherever they can. An example would be people pushing the Pierre/Charles friendship for a dramatic tale of childhood friends turned competitors, but they leave out Esteban time and time again - like we don't have various images showing their closeness during their karting days.

Also, we forget way too often that Esteban and Max were rookies together in f3 in 2014 who both skipped f2 to go straight to f1. Only one of them won f3 that year, and it wasn't Max

[flowercrowncrip]

I just read your posts about your accident. I hate reckless drivers! I hope you didn't get hurt. I you did, get well soon. And I also hope your visit in the hospital doesn't take long.

Thank you! I’m so annoyed too – the only way she didn’t see me is if she didn’t look before pulling out.

I’m still quite sore but I did have a long car drive which always hurts my head and neck anyway.

I’m hoping that I get the all clear from the paramedics and can stay home

[floral-poisons]

driving with prefects

in honor of constantly being reminded that leona can drive, i am writing up a brief dorm leader head canon post. i just think it would be a fun set of head canons, you know? (also it’s been a bit since i’ve posted like content).

i haven’t read any translations for the new event ft. leona and whatnot. so if my head canons don’t align with canon...take it with a grain of salt.

for the sake of these head canons, i’m mostly thinking about manual cars. because i know magic enhanced technology exists within twst. but when i think about driving, i’m thinking about like...regular cars, you know.

malleus draconia

unfamiliar is malleus with manual cars. after all, they’re so different from vehicles operated by magic alone. when he gets behind the wheel, he’s very cautious. sometimes, the things he does are reckless (your heart was beating so fast it would have exploded). but that’s because he isn’t used to driving with stick. or even having experience with manually shifting the car into different modes. he also needs to put his seat as far back as possible because of how tall he is and he needs a tall car so his horns aren’t squished. it can get very uncomfortable very quickly.

child of man, this car is very confusing. how do i activate the windshield wipers? i would not want us to get into an accident.

riddle rosehearts

getting on the road is honestly the worst for him. riddle is an anxious driver. he hates traffic, hates people honking at him, and most certainly hates getting on parkways and highways. he doesn’t mind driving in the countryside where he can drive smoothly and as fast as he desires. no one’s around after all. but with other people, he becomes a mess. he also has a bit of road rage within him. you’ve never heard someone curse as much as he did when someone cut him off. riddle also happens to follow the rules a little too well. he’s always going under or at the speed limit, always checking his blind spots, always signalling his turns even in parking lots. he is, arguably, the best parker.

oh come on! didn’t even signal while switching lanes! cut me off and everyone else too! there’s more than you in the world you know!

vil schoenheit

vil is an awful driver. not in the sense that he doesn’t follow the general rules of driving (because great seven forbid he gets into an accident and it becomes a scandal) but in the way that his braking tends to be...janky. his turns can range from being smooth to jarring. and the man lacks the ability to park. he’s horrible at parking. you learned your lesson when you got into the car with him driving (better off with rook). ironically, he’s a lot better at driving while he’s multitasking, like touching up his makeup or answering phone calls. honestly, he just needs a little practice. with every drive, he improves even in the slightest. he has no problem dedicating hours to practicing driving either. he just doesn’t have the time right now.

normally i don’t drive. my father had drivers for me. but i can. it’s just...been a while. i’m a little rusty is all.

leona kingscholar

leona, having driven for a while now, is one of the best drivers amongst the prefects (and arguably the whole school). he follows the general rules but definitely enjoys going fast. he especially likes to take scenic routes (there’s something peaceful about late night drives, you know). however, he is very possessive of the aux. you’re not allowed to play your playlists unless it’s a really long trip. besides, he prefers to listen to podcasts and audiobooks while driving. he kind of has a conversation with the audiobook or podcast. it’s cute to watch leona react in real time.

that is ridiculous! doesn’t she understand that he’s the bad guy? that he’s awful? she’s better off getting with the second lead anyways!

azul ashengrotto

putting a creature from the seat into a car is a bad idea. there’s only one person that is, arguably, worse than vil. and that is azul. now, it’s not really azul’s fault. he’s not really used to land traffic rules. but that doesn’t take away from the fact that you have almost gotten into a plethora of accidents with azul behind the wheel. he gets pretty anxious while on the road and does his turn signals, lane changes. but he’s pretty awful at guessing distance and lacks spatial awareness. naturally, this also inhibits his parking skills. his parking skills are pretty awful.

the coral sea traffic is not nearly as bad. i mean half of these rules don’t even make sense (y/n)!

kalim al-asim

kalim is a wonderful driver! his driving is really smooth and he’s a joy with to be in the car. there’s always something to talk about while he’s driving. and he’ll let you play your music, podcast, audiobook. the two of you have had so many lovely conversations while driving. there isn’t much to say. plus, kalim is pretty great at parking too. he’s always willing to go on errand runs with you and take you out on late night drives.

oh (y/n)! you need to get something from the grocery store? i was heading there anyways. hop in!

idia shroud

much to your surprise, you learned that idia is not an anxious driver. he seems like he would be. but no. he feels like he’s in a video game whenever he drives. and he absolutely loves the adrenaline rush that he gets from going fast. slamming on that gas petal is extremely satisfying to him. furthermore, traffic becomes a puzzle to him. a puzzle to solve on how to get out of traffic. everyone else becomes npcs. and you have almost thrown up from how motion sick you’ve gotten in his car.

ohohoho! traffic? guess we can play a game of how to escape! it should be relatively easy considering how all the normies drive.

[formulaheart]

"You're a rotten driver," I protested. "Either you ought to be more careful or you oughtn't to drive at all."

"I am careful."

"No, you're not."

"Well other people are," she said lightly.

"What's that got to do with it?"

"They'll keep out of my way," she insisted. "It takes two to make an accident."

"Suppose you met somebody just as careless as yourself."

"I hope I never will," she answered "I hate careless people. That's why I like you."

This conversation takes place somewhere near the middle of the book and the start of Nick and Jordan's relationship. Noting the events of the book, we already know that most everyone in it is quite literally a reckless driver. That being said, Jordan and Nick aren't being entirely literal while having that conversation.

Jordan knows she's a reckless person. She lies, cheats, and is all around dishonest to get what she wants in a system that favors men. She doesn't acknowledge this as a problem as long as she's gaming it right, with the right people (who won't see through her). She gets what she wants, she wins. But she's reckless.

Gatsby has one goal in mind: Daisy will love him. He has an unhealthy obsession with the idea of wealth, prosperity and success that he's attached to Daisy., and thinks of nothing else. He seems generous (and is generous) but not for the sake of others, he's being generous for the sake of his name getting around to his lover, and in the long run he turns out to be only thinking of himself the whole time. Even sacrificing himself for Daisy, only to make her love him the most. One track minds are too preoccupied to be anything but reckless.

Tom clearly doesn't value anyone who surrounds him. Incredibly sexist, racist and unaware of basic human rights or any kind of marital loyalty. I can honestly say that he has almost no redeeming qualities. Thoughtlessly stepping on people in his attempt to be the most intimidating man at the top of every food chain., his way is law to the point of borderline narcissism. Aggressive drivers are reckless.

Daisy is the victim of this circumstance if it's anybody. She had everything handed to her on a silver platter, but she was raised in a way to think she's only worth the equivalent of the men she's surrounded herself with, that she's nothing but a pretty fool, so that is what she'll be. She has to focus only on herself to stay afloat. But fools are reckless too.

And finally Nick, for all his claims to be careful and honest. He manages to get himself involved in and and every kind of shady activity going on without once interjecting that maybe this should not be happening. His idea of himself is being a great judge of character and always truthful, is caught up in the fact that he doesn't do anything to affect the people around him to do better, he just watches them crash and burn around him being naive enough to think it had nothing to do with him. Reckless.

Anyways, all of this to say, The Great Gatsby is a study on the idea of the American dream. But it's also just a book about a bunch of self absorbed people. People too busy to trying to figure out how to manipulate their surroundings, to get what they want out of them, to notice anybody else. Everyone is driving around on their own paths, headlights off, not paying attention to the road, until they collide.

As the book is closing up, after reckless driving has killed more than just one person, Jordan and Nick have one last conversation.

"Oh and do you remember-" she added "-a conversation we had once about driving a car."

"Why,- not exactly."

"You said a bad driver was only safe until she met another bad driver? Well, I met another bad driver, didn't I?"

[phos-phorus]

Another angsty Launt ficlet with an open (not so happy) ending

Longer than the previous snippets but filled with angst to the brim. Maybe I’ll expand it a bit and give them a happy end since I’m really not that satisfied with this version so far.

Anyways I’d love to know what you guys think of it and I hope you enjoy!

“Niki!” James’s voice was a whip crack through the pits, causing multiple heads to turn. Niki looked up, his expression hardening as he met James’s furious gaze.

“What is it, James?” Niki asked, his voice cool and detached.

James’s fists were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “You know damn well what this is about. Your team’s pathetic act of getting me disqualified. You couldn’t beat me on the track, so you had to get rid of me some other ratty way? That’s a fucking coward’s move.”

Niki’s eyes narrowed. “Cowardly? Your car didn’t meet the regulations. We followed the rules, and the officials agreed. If anyone’s to blame, it’s your own team for not building a legal car. But it's easier to blame others than admit you fucked up, huh?.”

James took a step closer, his voice rising with every word. “Don’t give me that technicality bullshit, Lauda. Just because you drive a Ferrari, you think you know everything! You and Ferrari couldn’t handle losing, so you took the cheap way out. You’ve always been obsessed with winning, but this? This is a new low. Even for you”

Niki stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “We played by the book, James. Racing isn’t just about driving fast; it’s about discipline, precision, strategy. Qualities you clearly lack.”

James laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Discipline? Strategy? You’re so wrapped up in your calculations that you’ve forgotten what it means to really race. To feel the car, to embrace the danger. I should’ve listened to the others. You’re a machine, Niki. A cold, unfeeling machine.” He looked down at the German with a mocking scoff “I don’t even know why I called a backstabbing, ugly little Rat like you my friend.”

The words hit Niki like a slap, but he kept his composure. “And you’re a reckless fool. You risk your life and everyone else’s for the sake of your ego. You don’t respect the car, the track, or the people who depend on you. You’re so busy being the charming playboy that you don’t care who you hurt along the way.”

James’s eyes blazed with fury as he stepped closer to Lauda. “At least I’m living, Niki. At least I’m not hiding behind a wall of fear and rules. You’re scared. Scared of losing, scared of taking risks, scared of really living. Face it, rat. You’re nothing but a coward.”

Niki’s vision blurred, his emotions a mess of hurt and and anger, and he's pushing James away from him before he's actually even realized his arms were moving. “You think I don’t know fear?” he said, his voice shaking and his eyes not daring to meet the Brit’s. “I live with it every day. But I don’t let it control me. I use it to make me better, to make me smarter. That’s what keeps me alive.”

"Coward." James repeats, trying to slap Niki’a arms away. "You can't even look me in the eye." Niki shoves him back with a force that surprised them both and there's a glint in James’ eyes. "You gonna hit me? Is this how you sort out your fights? Punch them in the face and walk away, Rat, Mr Robot and no fucking emotion at all? No. You’re weak. You’re a pathetic excuse of a man and a driver-"

"Shut up!" Niki screams. He's shaking, on one hand he wants to cry, on the other actually plant his fist in the smug grin of the Brit but he knew he wouldn’t stand a real chance in a physical fight with Hunt. He's stepping back from James, his voice trembling as he tries to speak, "If you hate me so much then just leave me alone! I don't need you, just fuck off for all I care." The tears that welled up in his eyes finally spilling.

"Are you crying?" James laughs incredulously. “Oh, poor Niki,” he mocked. “Always the victim, always playing the martyr. You’re pathetic.”

Niki couldn’t take it anymore. The pain, the fury, the shame—all of it boiled over in an instant. With a choked sound, he pulled away, turning and walking swiftly out of the garage, ignoring the startled looks of the mechanics and team members.

[thegreenleavesofspring]

.

I kicked my husband out in the beginning of December '21 when he finally went from just taking a swing at me to taking a swing at the four-year-old for the crime of asking for help. Earned myself a broken nose and broken glass that day but he was finally out. Moved back in with his messed-up family.

For the year after that until December 31st 2022, he came over on the weekends to take us to the store (the car was entirely in his name and he took it with him. He also never permitted me to get a driver's license, so) and to see the boys. I told him all year that he could move back in if/when he got counseling and shaped up. He always had an excuse why he couldn't.

On December 31st he was physically abusive to me and the boys in the self-checkout corral of Walmart. Police were called. CPS got involved. As of January he is not permitted to have any contact with me and the boys at all.

This has been a massive improvement in our day to day lives (his abuse wasn't limited to only the physical.) My children are more stable, happier, and learning more effectively.

But it also left us without transportation and also he took it as permission to entirely cut us off financially. No phone, no internet, no renters insurance, no rent, nothing. All in one day. And I went from not being permitted to have a job to being solely financially responsible for the boys - I have been trying and trying to get child support but none of my filings have come to aught.

And too my severely disabled mother has needed me to take care of her as best I can a city away without transportation every single day, which is its own kind of wearing...

A very dear out-of-state friend purchased us a Walmart membership so I could order food and diapers. Another very dear out-of-state friend proposed an arrangement where I work online for her and her husband.

All of which is just background and lead-up. I have been struggling with depression and overwhelm and sometimes suicidal tendencies for eight months now. Like I have been slowly sinking into a black mire and all my thrashing is just barely keeping my head above. And I have no one else to whom I can reach out for help. Every time I try it's... it only makes it so so much worse.

But the depression and overwhelm are morphing. Into misandry (men are useless, men are incapable of love, no man will ever protect a woman, men are faithless and cruel and selfish and violent and and and - SHUT UP SHUT UP IT'S LIES I KNOW IT'S LIES THEY'RE NOT ALL MY HUSBAND SHUT UP--) into distrust and disbelief of God (servant and slave of Jesus Christ but not a beloved daughter, He does not want you happy, He is displeased with you, the best you can hope for is to sneak around unnoticed in a corner while everyone else receives their crowns) and that one... I can't shake it. I read the Bible and I sneer. Those promises are for other people. Not me. I can't even justify that mindset (because it's unjustifiable) but I believe it with my whole heart anyway and I can't... help it. I can't help it.

...anyway that was depressing, sorry.

Anyway I was flopping around angsting last night, the usual sulking Nobody loves me, I'm so tired, I'm so bored, I'm so tired of being trapped inside, I am the worst mother ever and my children will hate me and follow the family tradition of moving out the minute they can, I am sick of living in a cluttered mess and not having real furniture, I am no Daughter of God but only a reject from the church, pushed out the house, no place for me at the Communion table blah blah blah. And I went and made a bunch of reckless impulse buys online.

Now, ordering from Walmart is a bit like playing Russian Roulette. Will you get someone picking out your food who is awake, cares about their job, and is competent? Or will you get someone who is half-asleep, just doesn't care, and/or is a flaming idiot? So normally I order the same few things that can survive sleepy careless idiots over and over.

But I went a little manic last night and ordered a whole bunch of produce (apples and a cantaloupe and spinach and Stuff) as well as a new pair of earbuds that are usually $20 but went down to $18 for back to school (I have a pair of the same kind I got years ago and they still work 90% of the time but that 10% is Annoying and also the volume controls and the replay/previous song functionalities don't work anymore.)

A little treat. ^_^

And it all came first thing this morning and... whoever picked my produce out was a literal angel. The apples are pristine and the spinach is bright green and not slimy and the potatoes are perfect and the cantaloupe is GORGEOUS and - it must've all just come off the truck? Because Walmart produce NEVER looks this good anyway?

And it was like a little whisper. Of course I care about you, even when you can't see it. Of course I can provide fresh produce for you if you'll have faith in Me. Do you think that getting good produce from Walmart is impossible for Me? I love you. I love you.

And I still can't quite believe it. Even with the evidence right in front of my eyes. I still can't make myself believe it. But I am trying oh I am trying...

Anyway I hope nobody actually read this pity-party riddled angst fest. XD

[yellowhollyhock]

Please tell us more about Donny and Angel I love these two as a couple they so cute! She’s so perfect for him and vise versa. I like to pretend when the series ended they became official they got married. Mikey is the flower girl because that’s hilarious to me and he’s genderqueer so he’s like yes I get to wear a dress. LH is best man because he’s Donny’s best friend. I am not sure what Raph and Leo are lol. I know there’s brides maid but not sure what you call the version for the groom so Raph and Leo are up there with LH.

Aaahdhhs thank you!! 💜💜🥹 I am always at any time so ready to talk about Donny and Angel.

I love your ideas about their wedding! I think since Splinter would be officiating, Raph can give Donny away (is giving grooms away a thing? if it isn't then, oh well it is now), and Leo can be the ring-bearer. Angel's friends Ashley and Jessica who I made up for the Meeting Gramma fic (it's in pinned post) are bridesmaids.

Okay so below the cut, here's some things I've been thinking about, and how I imagine his proposal!

I don't imagine them fighting often, but one thing that would definitely cause friction is his driving. In the show his bros always let him drive, but have you ever noticed how he's crazy? Usually I think it ends up that way because there's a big chase or it's just comedic, but I like the idea that he's actually quite reckless. Tbh, a lot of people I know irl who are really good at working on cars are really bad at driving safely. They know exactly how far they can push that machine and they like showing it, sometimes forgetting to factor in that there are other people on the road and such things as safety laws.

Anyway Angel lost her mom in a car crash where the other driver was at fault. She was six. Neither her nor Ryan have licenses, partially because driving is scary to them but also because they live in New York City.

I don't think Donny would take it well when Angel calls him out about his driving. This is something he taught himself how to do in order to take better care of his family. He didn't have access to the resources she did to learn (experienced drivers, opportunity to legally obtain a license), and she hasn't shown any interest in using them (he doesn't know about how her mom died at the time), so why should he take criticism from her? He gets defensive when she makes a comment, something she is not used to from him, and they both end up pushing and holding onto little things. Angel says she'd just rather not get in the car with him and if he wants to go places with her they can walk. This seems pretty inconsiderate to Don who cannot simply walk through the city, and he doubts she wants to learn how to slink around and jump across rooftops since she doesn't even want to learn to drive.

Once they've both had time to cool down, he apologizes--he hates that he made her feel unsafe, he'd be happy to walk places with her if that's more comfortable, and he'd like her to know he has asked Raph to backseat for him for a while (call him out if he takes corners too fast, breaks laws etc). With him being vulnerable and apologizing, it's much easier for her to realize and admit why it actually scared her so much, that it wasn't all to do with him, in fact she never feels safe in cars. As they've been getting closer she's been worrying a lot that she would lose him somehow. She apologizes for losing her temper and calling him out in front of everyone (everyone probably consists of April, Casey, and his bros). She tells him how much she appreciates that he's trying to do better and that of course she doesn't mind driving places with him, in fact she feels better knowing that if something does happen, she'd know about it right away.

Also kinda thinking maybe Donny teaches her how to drive, later when she asks. I think she'd still feel safer with him at the wheel, especially once he starts being more careful, but it could still be empowering for her to know.

Their proposal~~

He takes her to Central Park--they wouldn't go somewhere like that very often, but they risk it early one November morning for what he will only vaguely call a 'special occasion.'

Anyway it's not hard to stay disguised because he's freezing and wearing so many layers you can't even tell he's round. (We don't really see the turtles in winter clothes much in the show, but after all the chaos had stopped I think they'd be more comfortable doing little things for themselves such as keeping warm). They buy hot chocolates. She makes a snow angel, which he cannot stop laughing about. She keeps close by to keep him warm, which makes him nervous because the ring is in his pocket and she's going to find it before he's ready--he panics and starts a snowball fight. She's in her element. He's getting more flustered by the minute. He's still a ninja though, and holding his own--until in a moment of distraction she nails him right in the face. She's wheezing, crying, cackling and fussing all at once--and when she comes over to help him up he panics again and takes the opportunity to pull out the ring.

It's a puzzle ring. They've talked about it before, and she's never liked the idea of a fancy gem. She wears lots of jewelry, and an engagement ring of all things should be practical to wear daily, not like her studded nose rings or chain necklaces with all kids of loud charms.

He pulls it out and lets them dangle from each other; four rings, all attached to each other. "It takes some work to fit them together," he explains as he assembles it for her, "But it's impossible to take them apart." Allowing herself to get close to people has been a big deal for her since her dad left. He's still haunted by the possibility of just disappearing one day, apparently without a trace.

He's getting teary and having a hard time getting through the speech he planned so carefully. "I want that for us."

She slips the ring on and pulls him into a hug. "I want that, too." Then, as if she's only just thought of it, "Let's get married." Because she's always loved making him laugh 💜