#he's making it pretty clear that's not who he is

[no-144444]

the grid: when they admit they love you!

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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: fumbling and scared 

You sat at the reception of McLaren, and every single day he was terrified of making a fool of himself. You were the cool, pretty receptionist he’d already gone on 3 dates with, and this Friday he was going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. The conversation between you two flowed easily when it was just you two, but with other people there… he was less than smooth. Your desk mate, the other receptionist had a knack for gossip, and she was kind of scary, she he tried to steer clear of her when he could. 

“Morning,” you smiled as he walked in the door. 

“Morning,” he smiled back, leaning on your desk. “How are you?”

You started signing him into the building (he ‘lost’ his access card months ago, aka he threw it away and didn’t try to get a new one, just so he could have some reason to talk to you). “I’m good, looking forward to Friday,” you smiled. “You?”

He beamed, grinning like a kid. “Me too.”

“Oscar!” Chris (the guy who has the biggest crush on you ever) clapped a hand on his back, much too hard. “Buddy, I got you a new access-card! Now you can stop bothering the pretty lady here, right?”

“Chris, it’s no bother, I do it every morning-” you tried to diffuse the situation. You didn’t exactly want Osccar to have to deal with Chris, he was such an asshole.  

“Yeah, but it’s one less thing off your plate baby,” he winked at you and Oscar felt something twist in his stomach when you grimaced at the pet name. 

“Don’t call her that,” he told him. “She has a name, it’s Y/n. Use her name.” 

“Dude, I know you wouldn’t get it, but some people date other people,” Chris chuckled like a scumbag. “And me and her are together, so back off.”

Oscar laughed. He actually laughed in your co-workers face. “You’re funny, man.”

Chris laughed along. “I know right.” 

Oscar took the access card from him, leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to yours, like he’d done many times before, and carried on to his meetings. Chris stood there shocked, then walked back to his desk like a wounded puppy. 

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Friday rolled around and you were both sat on his couch watching Cars, when he turned to you. “I’m sorry about Monday,” he admitted. “I know it wasn’t the right thing to do and it probably made it worse but I just-”

“It worked,” you told him. “He hasn’t spoken to me all week, but he has been trying to report you to HR for me, but every time he does I just tell them I didn’t make the claim and then report Chris for being weird. It worked perfectly. He’s such a dick,” you chuckled. 

He watched you as you chuckled, the way your nose scrunched, the flyaway hairs on your forehead framing your face, your soft lips, you gorgeous eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly, but you looked up with wide-eyes all the same. He’d shocked himself too. “OHmygodIamsosorryIknowit’swaytooearlyand-”

You just started laughing, literally falling into his lap. You laughed against his chest and after a moment, he joined you. 

“You’re such a dork,” you smiled brightly as you ran a hand through his hair, then gently caressed his cheek. “I love you too.”

He beamed. “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You nodded, then kissed him gently. Cars and a pretty girl as his girlfriend? Could his Friday night get any better? 

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Lando Norris: sweet and sincere (for once)

He watched as you walked from the edge of the water into it, splashing around with Mila. It was your first Norris family holiday, and yeah, maybe he had lied to you and told you it would just be you two to trick you into meeting his family only 5 months into your relationship. Maybe you were super mad at him to the point of barely speaking to him unless in the group. But also, maybe Lando was watching the love of his life play with his niece, and maybe he didn’t care that he’ just called you that. 

“Lala!” Mila called, running up to him. “I really like Y/n, can we keep her?” 

You came up behind her, chuckling lightly at her statement. He stared at you for a moment. You were sunkissed (and a little sunburn on your nose), with a bright smile, wet hair and a beautiful blue swimsuit on. You looked ethereal to him. So stunningly gorgeous that he barely knew what to say. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s grab you a snack,” you picked back up your smile and started to walk over to his sister, sitting under another umbrella with all the snacks and drinks in the world. Lando just stared at you when Mila asked. You’d thought that him inviting you on a family holiday would mean something, you must’ve thought wrong. 

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As dinner rolled around, the conversation flowed smoothly as the sun set on the horizon. 

“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach front,” you told the table once meals were finished. They waved you off and off you went. The beautiful sea and stars in the sky caught your attention as your red dress flowed in the wind. It was magical, the warm air, the magnificent views, all of it. The sand beneath your feet was warming your feet and you stopped to look out on the ocean. The soothing, calm waves with the scent of salt made you smile. You’d always loved the beach. 

“You look beautiful,” Lando’s voice made you jump, and you searched for him until you realised he was right beside you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist and turned you to face him. 

He’d been quiet at dinner, too busy trying to think of how to get you to talk to him again, and how he could finally confess his love for you. It was almost overwhelming, the fact that he was in love. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that it was a family trip,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You sighed. “It was pretty shitty…” you reminded him. “But I’ve been having fun with them. You come from good people. Makes sense.”

He smiled brightly at your compliment and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for not leaving once you found out.”

You chuckled. “No problem.”

“I adore you,” he admitted. “More than anything. I fucking love you.”

Your eyes widened and you stood there with your jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath and he giggled. 

“You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you,” he clarified, once he’d stopped laughing. 

You smiled at him, chuckling. “I love you too, Lando, of course I do. Even when you do stupid shit like invite me to a family holiday.” 

He laughed, burying his face in your neck. “I already said ‘I’m sorry’!”

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George Russell: of course…

He smiled as he crossed the finish line, finally  winning another race. 

“Well done George!” his engineer cheered, congratulating him as the garage erupted into celebrations. 

When he was finally out of the car, all interviews were over, and all that was left was to take a few team photos, he was given a moment to seek you out. You’d hugged you at the barricade, but since then he hadn’t seen you. You were busy signing things for fans, little girls who wanted to be ‘just like you’ one day. You smiled and told them they would be, that their dreams of being olympic gymnasts weren’t far-fetched. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was covered in champagne, and you groaned, making the small group of girls laugh. 

“George!” you groaned, pushing him off.

“What?” he smirked, pulling you back in. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as the group of girls moved on with a giggle and a wave. “You look stunning.”

“You’re wet,” you dead-panned. “Congratulations, winner.”

He grinned. “I love you.”

You stared at him for a moment, a gentle disbelief in your eyes. “Really?”

“More than anything.”

“Not just because you're drunk on champagne?”

“Nope, I genuinely love you,” he chuckled. “Sorry,” he shrugged, unapologetic. 

You beamed, then kissed him. “I love you more.”

He shook his head. “Not possible.” 

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Kimi Antonelli: nervous 

He smiled as he opened the door to his apartment and found you on the other side. 

“Ready?” you asked, holding up a very big paint can, and some rollers. He had asked you to help him decorate his new apartment, in Monaco, and you’d thankfully agreed. You, his girlfriend / race engineer, had also just moved to Monaco, next door, in fact.

He let you in and you both began to set up the room, tarping the hardwood floors, taping off the skirting boards, and enjoying the soft music and sunny weather outside the window. You finally opened the paint and got to work. He thought you looked adorable, actually wearing paint-splattered overalls (courtesy of you repainting your entire apartment just a week ago), with a concentrated face. His eyes followed you across the room, meticulously taping every inch of the skirting board, making sure that none of the blue paint would ruin the white. 

“What?” you asked, looking back at him. 

He blushed and shook his head, finally understanding the emotions he felt for you everyday. He loved you. “Nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow and walked over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You sure?”

He nodded, much too nervous to tell you. He looked away, pretending to be engrossed in messing with your pockets. 

You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Alright,” you let go of him and walked back to the side of the room that you were working on. 

He’d tell you, one day. 

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Lewis Hamilton: smooth about it

He smirked as you walked out from your bedroom, clad in one of his shirts and some tiny sleep-shorts, excited about finally sitting down to watch the movie. It had been a difficult triple-header, and he hadn’t been around. But finally, the season was over, and he could invite you over to start enjoying the Christmas festivities. He loved this. He loved the casual, regular things you two did. He liked the way you cuddled up to him on the couch, he loved the way he knew you’d definitely fall asleep before the film ended, he loved you-

Oh.

He loved you. 

He chuckled and you looked at him confused. 

“You alright?” 

He chuckled. “All good baby,” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“What was that about?” you questioned further, putting the remote down. He ran a hand through your hair, looking at you with all the love in the world. 

“Just love you,” he shrugged as your jaw dropped. He chuckled, watching a million emotions run through you. 

“You’re such a dick!” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I wanted to say it first!”

He laughed and pulled you into his arms, holding you closer. “I’m sorry baby.”

You scoffed. “No you’re not.”

He shook his head. “No I’m not.” 

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Alex Albon: oh… yah. 

He sighed as he opened the door to his driver’s room. He was exhausted, another race down, another weekend closer to the end of this. 

“Hey,” you smiled. 

His mood picked up, knowing you were there. His best friend. “Hey,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Surprise?” you shrugged. “I wanted to come see you.” 

He smiled, pressing his face into your neck inhaling the smell of your perfume, feeling much more at ease than he did before. “I thought you couldn’t make it today.”

“I did, but I won't be able to be in Qatar or Abu Dhabi,” you admitted, breaking the bad news. You could feel him frown. 

“Why not?”

“I'm busy for the next two weeks with work. Then I have the whole couples retreat thing and then-”

“Pardon? Couples retreat?”

“This guy I’m seeing is saying we should go, I think it’s a swinging thing though, I’m not exactly into it. But non refundable tickets and I would like a holiday before I have to deal with our families all Christmas,” you explained with a chuckle.

His world crumpled around him. “You’re seeing someone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… nice,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be meeting him for a while, he’s not even my boyfriend yet-”

You stopped talking because he’d started kissing you. He hadn’t really connected the dots before. He liked how close your families were, he liked being your best friend, he liked being around you all the time. He liked being the person you’d come to about things. He didn’t like other people liking you. He’d been your personal bodyguard throughout your teenage years, and he had shooed off every guy, just because he was protecting you, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted both of you to wait and be each other's first kiss, like you’d promised when you were 10. 

Oh shit. He was in love with you. 

He pulled back with wide-eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

You broke out into a smile. “I love you too.”

He grinned like a little kid. 

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Franco Colapinto: shy? For once?

He froze as he heard your voice from behind. He hadn’t been home in months, too busy with racing to visit. But Christmas rolled around as it always did, and so did every single family friend. 

“Franco!” his mother’s voice rang out. “Come here!”

He turned and was met with your eyes. He felt himself blushing already.

“Y/n’s here!” she cheered. You offered a small wave and a smile, which he mirrored. 

“It’s good to see you again,” you  smiled. “Happy Holidays.”

He nodded. “You too.”

“How’s F1 going?”

“Good, well. I like it,” he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well, we’ve all been cheering you on from here,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”

He smiled and nervously chuckled. “Thank you.”

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As he watched you over the coming days, enjoying your company, even when he wasn’t the centre of your attention, he found himself becoming even more shy, even more confused, and increasingly love-sick.

He just had to find a way to make himself tell you, easy, right? 

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Logan Sargeant: idek

Y’know how you’re told that when boys like you, they’ll bully you? That’s bullshit, they’re just bullies and their parents make excuses for them. 

You watched as Logan got into your car, getting ready to drive it, and you felt yourself tense up. You’d never gotten along with Logan, growing up in the same racing series, only you pivoted to Indycar and he went to F1. Now he was about to drive your car. You’d never been more nervous. You were the Indycar champion this year, the first women to do it, and you were proud. Giving your car over to Crash-Sargeant wasn’t exactly your choice, but you still had hope that he could drive it. 

You went up to him as he was about to get it, and grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “If you fucking car my car I will cut your balls off Sargeant. Don’t fuck with me, alright?” you whispered, getting close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. He smirked and nodded, ripping his hand out of your grasp.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He was already hearing wedding bells. Utterly and totally in love with you. 

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Daniel Riccardo: nothing like a big gesture, right?

He dropped you off outside departures, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t want you to go,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, then wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his hands circled your waist. “What’re you doing today?”

“Stuff for Enchanté,” he explained. 

“That’s why you can’t come this weekend? Not up to being my WAG in Haas?” you smirked, pressing small kisses to his cheeks as you spoke. 

“God no, I only go there for Nico,” he smirked. “And you’re replacing him today.”

You rolled your eyes, letting god of him. “Fuck you!” you called after you, trying to suppress a smile. He watched as you walked off, shaking your head and he thought about everything. Every night he went to sleep with you in his arms, every morning he woke up beside you, every smile he saw, every laugh he made happen, every hug or kiss he got from you. He smiled, realising the truth. 

He loved you. 

Therefore he ran after you, making a huge scene in the airport. When he finally made it up to you, there were 2 security guards chasing him, so he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you harshly, a bright smile on his face. “I love you,” he smiled when he pulled away. 

“You’re going to get fucking arrested!” you stressed, wide-eyed and shocked at his behavior. 

“For being in love?”

“No, you idiot, for bypassing security and running through an airport without a ticket! Go back!” you pushed him off of you with an exasperated and amused smile.

“I love you!” he called after himself as he was taken away by the security guards. 

“I love you too, you fucking idiot!” you scoffed. “You have a phone, y’know!” 

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Liam Lawson: will NOT speak to you at any cost

Being in love with one of his mechanics probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his wanted you. 

“Liam can I-?” you started, but he just walked away, his eyes glued to the floor. You followed behind him, trying again and again to get his attention, but he continued ignoring you, and you'd had enough. “Fuck’s sake- Liam! Stop being such a dick! I don’t know if you just don’t respect me, or if you don’t like me, but I’m a mechanic on your time, and I'm asking if there’s anything you want us to change about your car to make you more comfortable. Just answer me that simple question and I promise I won’t bother you again all weekend!” 

He froze on the spot. “I’m in love with you-” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “The car is fine, sorry. Thanks.”

Then he walked off, leaving you in a stunned silence. 

What the fuck had he just done?

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Charles LeClerc: weirdly calm about it

You two sat on (one of)  his (many) yacht(s), overlooking the gorgeous Monaco bay. He had an arm around you, both of you dressed in comfortable clothes with nothing to do for the entire weekend. Oh, how he adored the off-season. You were too busy reading a book to notice the way he was looking at you. In the simple, silent moment it hit him suddenly that he was in fact, in love with you. And it didn’t scare him the way previous girlfriends confessing such things to him had. It felt right, completely normal, even. 

“Do you want anything?” you yawned. 

“Pardon?” he asked, too busy in his own world. 

“I’m ordering food, do you want something?” 

“I’m alright, but let me get it,” he offered and you scoffed.

“Fuck off Percvél. I can pay for my own food,” you chuckled, getting up and walking further into the boat. 

He chuckled, watching after you. 

Wow, he was mature. And, in love. 

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Carlos Sainz: definitely not freaking out

“I love you,” you confessed as the two of you cosied up at the beach. It had been a brilliant holiday, the two of you actually getting to spend some time together. 

He looked at you with wide-eyes. 

“Sorry if that was too soon, or too much. I just… wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything back- of course.” 

While you were catastrophising, he was freaking out. You loved him. You told him you loved him. Holy shit. 

He stuttered for a moment, making you grimace. You’d fucked it up, definitely. There was no way he felt the same, right? You were probably just a 7 month long hook-up to him, right? 

“I love you too,” he smiled, then pressed his lips to yours.

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Arthur LeClerc: accidental

“Arthur is so whipped!” his friend laughed, watching as Arthur helped you set the table for dinner. Arthur just laughed, whereas, you frowned. Did Arthur think you were too clingy? Too demanding? Too much? 

Throughout dinner, you were pretty quiet, and you didn’t even let Arthur help you clean up. You went to bed early as he entertained the guests alone, and when he came to bed, there was a pillow between either sides of your bed. He frowned. 

“Baby,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in the crook of his neck. “What is the problem?”

You sniffled. “It’s nothing,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his heart warm when you held on to him, revelling in the fact that you would choose him to comfort you. “It’s just what-”

“Please don’t tell me you took to heart the comment Harry made?” he scoffed. You were quiet. “My love, I love you, I like helping you, I like being there for you, I like kissing and hugging you. If he has a problem with that then he can fuck off,” he chuckled, then stopped when he realised what he’d said. 

“You love me?” you sniffled, raising your head to look at him. 

He smiled. “Of course I do,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.” 

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Ollie Bearman: overwhelmed 

He smiled as he watched you dance on the dancefloor of the club. You looked so free and happy, smiling brightly with friends as the lights flashed and the music was loud enough to feel it in your entire body. 

“Dude, you two are so in love, it’s adorable,” Paul, his friend, pointed out. 

“I don’t- we’re not-”

“Haven’t said it yet?” Paul chuckled. “You should. I think she’d say it back.”

Ollie nodded, trying to pretend his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You. Love. He wasn’t in love, right? All boyfriends wanted their girlfriends beside them at all times, right? All boyfriends missed their girlfriends so much that they flew them out to every race, right?  All boyfriends had begged their girlfriends to meet his parents, and vice versa only months into getting together, right?  All boyfriends felt suffocated when their girlfriends weren’t around, right? 

Oh shit, he was in love with you. He stepped outside to get some air.

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After a while of not seeing Ollie, you went outside to find him. You found him, leaning against the wall of the club, staring off into space. 

“Alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his cheek. 

He looked at you and smiled. “Alright,” he nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist. 

“Why’d you leave?” you asked. 

“Needed some air,” he admitted. It wasn’t untrue. 

“For 30 minutes?” you questioned and he knew he’d been caught. “Did Paul say something stupid? Need me to beat him up for you?” 

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. “No, I’m alright. I was just… thinking.” 

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased and he chuckled. “What about?”

“You,” he confessed. 

“What about me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he answered nervously. 

“Oh yeah?” you smiled and he nodded. “Good thing I love you too.” 

Wow, Paul was right, for once. 

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Max Verstappen: strange man 

He watched from the other side of the plane as you played chess against his mother, bright smiles on both of your faces as the game progressed. He noticed the way your nose crinkled, the way your eyes shone, the comfortable position you sat in. He thought of every moment he got to share with you, and he almost teared up thinking of the best ones. He loved you. But he wouldn’t tell you, not yet. 

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He thrust into you, euphoria so close he could almost touch it. “Good girl, he groaned, feeling your nails in his back. “Taking me so well.” 

You just moaned against his skin, too cockdrunk to really notice what was going on around you. Max was a 4 time world champion. He’d done it. The first thing he’d wanted was to fuck you silly in his hotel room.

He was close, he slowed down his thrusts, much to your dismay, and slowly but firmly continued. 

“I,” thrust. “Love,” thrust. “You.” 

And he came inside you as you screamed into his shoulder, reaching your own peak. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it just came out (see what I did there? 😀). He stared down at you as you looked back up at him with wide eyes. 

“You love me?” you questioned. 

He nodded, his mouth dry. He was trying to focus on the softness of this moment, whilst also having to deal with your tight walls around his cock. Torture. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, flipping him over and straddling him. He groaned when he saw you on top of him and he was hard again. “Let me take care of you, yeah? My winner,” you smirked before starting to move on his cock. 

He was in for a long night. But a long night with the woman he loved. 

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Paul Aron: finally is a victim of humility 

“Paul, just tell her!” Ralf, his brother, argued. “She adores you, you’re in love with her, it’s alright!” 

“But… what if she doesn’t say it back?” He asked, much more insecure than he meant it to sound. He wasn’t used to being unsure when it came to romance. Paul had always been the type of guy to get any girl he wanted, with you it had been different. You’d hated his guts. He had to prove to you he was a good guy, then you’d finally gone out with him, and fast forward a year, he was trying to figure out how to tell you he loved you. He’d only realised it last night, when you were waiting in his apartment with dinner made for the two of you for the simple reason ‘just because’. In that moment he’d wrapped his arms around you and kissed you to stop himself from ruining the night and confessing right then and there. 

Ralf groaned. “You are impossible!” 

When did love become so complicated?

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Jack Doohan: so not casual 

Jack watched as you wiped out in the waves once again, a giggle on his lips. As you resurfaced, he saw the panic in your eyes and he swam over, his body taking over before his brain could say anything. 

“You alright?” he called, swimming over to you. You shook your head wildly, tears forming in your eyes. 

“M-my leg,” you whimpered out, trying to keep yourself above water. He grabbed your waist and held you bridal-style so he could swim back to shore, signalling to the lifeguards as finally got you to shore. He saw the issue when you two were out of the water, a huge gash on your left leg, so bad you could see the bone. The cracked bone.

What ensued for the next 9 hours was a flurry of an ambulance, hospital rooms, and surgery, but the only constant was Jack. he stayed there the entire time, and he was there when you woke up. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “Hey baby,” he smiled, easy as ever despite the worry he’d been under extreme stress all day. “You’re awake.”

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry about today-”

“Don’t apologise. We all get hurt sometimes, it’s alright,” he reassured you. “Plus, it’s not like I can be mad at you.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“Because I love you,” he shrugged. He’d realised in the 9 hours of  stress that he wouldn’t go to this extent for anyone else, and that he must be insane or in love (which were probably the same thing) to somehow be blindsighted into bringing you to the most dangerous part of the beach for surfing (we was persuaded by you kissing him lots) and then bringing you to the ER and staying with you the entire time. So, he chose the love one, it sounded better. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[deathbxnny]

hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!

Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader

Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3

Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.

Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.

"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.

"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.

》EKKO

He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.

It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.

"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.

"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.

The festival was going to be great, to say the least.

》JINX

You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.

Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.

And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"

[loreandletters]

The most important fact is that Jake’s is fine. He is a-okay with being left in a haunted cemetery. All alone. In the middle of the night. He’s also pretty poor, and since fear is costly, being fine and being is his only option. 

Ghosts? Psha! Try looking at his bills, those are scary. Eyeless ghouls? Good thing it doesn’t cost much to scribble out a talisman or sprinkle some salt. Some wannabe witches trying to summon the devil? Not on his fucking watch! Those candles leave a mess, don’t they know that?

People look down on cleaning, but doesn’t anyone realize that the sanitation department runs the world? Garbage men keep the streets clean, ushers man the stores, and Jake weeds and washes graves. What better honor is there than guarding the deceased from moss and mold? No better money too.

Jake’s lamp flickers as he pulls up another weed. 

“Money, money, money,” Jake sings, forcing himself not to rush, “must be funny, in a rich man’s world.”

The grave is illuminated poorly, the mossed over letters just barely spelling out ‘here lies Jasmine Helma, the sweetest wife a man could ask for.’ It’s also just barely enough to see the half-screaming ghostly face sticking out of the stone. Jake hums patiently, plucking more weeds that are growing at the foot of the grave.

80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year. Jake chants, the mantra beating religiously within his cranium. The numbers aren’t exactly accurate, but what rich man counts pennies? (he also heard somewhere that rhymes help ward off misfortune) 80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year.

Yeah, he hasn’t been here more than six months, so what? He makes it a year, that’s a six figure salary! All for picking weeds and scrubbing stone (along with the occasional security). He doesn’t need a degree or some nepotism (both of which he doesn’t have), just a spine of steel. Honestly, he doesn’t have that either, but for 160k he does. He’ll fucking sprout wings and fly if they asked him to.

….Jake’s really poor.

Not for long though, he promised himself.

“I’ll kill you!” the ghoulish face shrieked, mouth cranked inhumanly wide, unmoving yet still speaking, “you cheating manwhore! I’ll kill you!”

“I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay,” Jake sings. Ghosts like these forget they’re dead, and only repeat what the last thing they said before they died. It happens the longer they stick around. Their looks fade, their voices lose any recognizable lilt, leaving them with a dragging, wretched voice that is indistinguishable from any other ghost. 

“I’ll kill you! You cheating manwhore! I’ll kill you!”

 “Ain’t that sad?” Jake wasn’t shivering out of fear, he was just cold. Who cared if she was screaming? That wouldn't pay his rent, picking these weeds would. 

“I’ll kill you!”

“And still there never seems to be, a single penny left for me,” Jake fixed his flickering lamp, hand dipping into the bucket of soap and water to fetch the sponge.

“You cheating manwhore!”

“That’s too bad.” Jake began to scrub. He scrubbed around the headstone, around the ghost, and when he was done, everything but that one spot was sparkling clean. The night chilled his drying hands but Jake muscled on. 80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year.

“Cleaning again, Jacob dear?”

“If I got me a wealthy man, I wouldn’t have to work at all,” James' voice immediately became louder, singing now ringing across the graveyard, “I’d fool around and have a ball!”

The floating annoyance chuckled, “if that’s a yes to my offer, I’m afraid you’ll have to be more clear.”

It was a month ago now that he’d chased off the amateur witches. They were ambitious kids, and like all kids, stupid. Breaking into a graveyard to play with powers beyond their control, who does that? Without Jake they likely would have died. Unfortunately, they were skilled idiots. Skilled enough to summon something, just not a demon. Jake isn’t a witch so he can’t say what exactly, only that it isn’t one of hells many soldiers. That’s why the thing calls him by a fake name. He may not know much, but he isn’t stupid enough to be giving out his real name to anyone who asks. For some reason It’s stuck in the graveyard, and because Jake’s only job is to clean the graveyard not fix the graveyard, that isn’t his problem. It’s just another thing he needs to ignore.

“Money, money, money, must be funny, in a rich man’s world!” Jake has been singing this song for the past hour, stuck on a couple verses because he doesn’t actually know the whole thing, and he’s too scared right now to think of another. He’s fine though! Don’t lose it now, Jake. Remember, 80 bucks an hour, 160,000 a year - keep your eyes on the prize!

The next grave has a ghoul hiding behind it, the monstrous thing shivering as it tries to take refuge in the shadow of the headstone. They’re relatively harmless so long as you don’t start chasing them. Just to be sure, he has a shitty talisman that he’d haggaled a priest for, though to be honest he probably shouldn’t have bothered. They tend to feed on happier victims. 

It’s their form that unnerves most people; twig like limbs, far too long for the small torso they’re connected to, with muscles all distorted and twisted. Freaks folks out. Luckily, they're more shadow than physical, so he doesn't worry about stepping on them. He begins his process again, picking weeds and trashing rubbish. Must have been the teenagers again. Don’t they have anything better to do with their time?

“Money, money, money,” Jake sings, loud as he can. The not-demon thing trails behind him. 

“Oh Jacob, I could give you money and so much more,” the being takes on a young man's form tonight, chest exposed by an open shirt, the body underneath toned, skin shining in the moonlight as It lays back in the air. Confident in the image It’s made, as if Jake will fall over at the sight alone. “All you have to do is ask.”

Thick manicured hands run across the shapeshifted body in a lustful fashion. Tonight, the face is sharp and beautiful, wet lips and curly hair, with green eyes as sparkling as gems. There’s a pout on his lips. Last shift the thing had taken on a woman, and before that a large wolf, and before that, a cripple - anything to pull his heartstrings. Friendship, romance, companionship - what will it take for Jake to say yes? There’s only one answer, of course.

Money. Money is why he’s here. Best part? This job will get him all his desires without asking him for his soul. He’ll pay off his debts, his rent, his brother's medical bills and he’ll get to be alive to enjoy it. 

So, Jake grits his teeth and bears it. The ghosts, the ghouls, the not-demon; just sings, scrubbing at a leisure pace so that maybe he can get an extra hour on his shift tonight. I mean, c’mon, it’s 80 an hour. Wouldn’t you? 

You've been hired to clean a graveyard every night for 80 bucks an hour. Its haunted. And by god you are going to make that 80 bucks an hour

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝑵𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒓*

Pairing: Bear!Hybrid Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Strangers -> Lovers , Biting/Hickeys, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Use of Princess, Slight back scratching, Mutual Masturbation basically, Slight finger sucking, Slight belly bulge. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

A/N: after writing this I realize it’s not super beary lol. But it has hints I guess. I hope yall enjoy it though.

Series Master List

-🐾

A new guy had just moved into the apartment across from yours. When you caught a glimpse of him you were honestly shocked. This big muscular hybrid was carrying boxes up the stairs. You could see his muscles through his tight shirt making your face heat up. He was super attractive, cute little ears, fluffy brown hair. You couldn’t look away. When he passed by you again he couldn’t help but smile. You felt embarrassed being caught quickly getting your key out to open your door.

You’ve seen each other in passing a few times, a few polite hellos were spoken but not much more.

Checking your mail you realized your new table had come in but the assholes left it downstairs. Yes there was an elevator however how the hell were you getting it there? You struggled trying to bring it over only getting half way there before a friendly voice yelled towards you. “Need some help?” It said. As you looked over you noticed the handsome man walking towards you. Your heart doing flips as he made his way over. “Can’t believe they’d leave it down here” he said shaking his head. Without any more talking he picked the heavy box up like it weighed nothing.

You didn’t say anything more in shock that he could lift it. Making your way behind him to the elevator. He sat it down beside him smiling at you “I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself. I’m changbin” he said.

“Oh- yeah- I’m y/n” you stuttered out making his smile grow even wider.

“Whatcha order? Some bricks?” He teased.

“A new coffee table” you said with a laugh.

He nodded when the doors opened. He let you out first before grabbing the box. Making the way to your place you hesitantly opened the door, before letting him in. He sat the box down in your living room turning around to you with a small huff. “Need help putting it together? I’m great at building” he said.

“Oh uhm you don’t have to do that you literally just carried this up here” you said with an awkward smile. He made you all nervous and shy like a school girl around their crush.

“Nonsense, anything to help my pretty neighbor out” he said blushing at his own words. Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest from his comment. You felt a familiar warmth on your face, blush decorating your cheeks. His gaze came back to your face eyes almost like a puppy when he caught you blushing back. There was a moment of silence, it was almost calming honestly. It didn’t feel awkward it felt almost comforting. He cleared his throat laying the box on its side “so uhm shall we get started?” He said with a friendly smile.

As you worked you got to know one another. He had told you about him moving here, buying his own gym down the street. He told you about his passion for working out and helping others reach goals. He told you how he wanted to make a safe place for hybrids to work out and get better training for their kind. He gushed about how he worked with big panther hybrids that could climb super well, or dog hybrids who were super easy to train. He in the midst of everything told you he was a bear hybrid, a grizzly bear hybrid to be particular.

You couldn’t stop the words that were coming out “oh so you’re just a big ol teddy bear?” You said.

He couldn’t help but laugh, oh that laugh. It felt like a warm hug. “Yeah definitely am, I give the best hugs.. and cuddles” he said peering over to see your reaction. He wasn’t disappointed he watched as your face turned even redder than before. Your mind daydreaming about how it would feel to be curled up with him.

“You thinking about cuddling me hm?” He said teasingly.

“I uhm-“ you stuttered out only to make him laugh even more.

“Don’t be shy, if you want to cuddle I’m just across the hall” he said with a little smirk.

You could only nod not knowing what to say. What could you say? This man who looked like he was chiseled by the gods offering you to cuddle? Hello? You’d smack yourself to see if you were dreaming if he wasn’t here.

After getting everything finished you had offered him to stay for dinner which to your both dismays he said he couldn’t. “As much as I would really love that, I have to head back to the gym to clean and lock up.” He said with an almost frown “but how about a rain check? We can have dinner another night? Maybe watch a movie and talk some more?” He said.

“Yeah, that- that sounds great” you said with a soft smile.

After he had left you plopped yourself down on the couch. Everything of today just circling in your head. He was so kind, sweet and funny. ‘There’s no way he’s real’ you said to yourself making you chuckle.

After that you two talked more, exchanging numbers at some point too. “Just incase you need me for anything” he said while putting his number in your phone. After almost a month of talking almost everyday he finally said about having that dinner. However it felt like the world was against you today because it was one thing after another. Having to stay later after work only to come home to your apartment being freezing. “Great, just great my fucking heater isn’t working” you said with a loud groan. When you went to try to get a warm shower you realized the water wasn’t getting hot either. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You wrapped a towel around you not knowing what to do. So you texted changbin “hey are you home yet?” You asked.

“Can’t wait for our dinner 😂” he texted back.

“Yes but no. Something must be up with my place. My heat won’t turn on nor will my hot water work.” You said back.

“I’ll be home soon, if you need there’s a space key in my plant outside. Go to my place.” He said back.

“I was in the middle of a shower :( “

“Shower at my place?”

“You sure?”

“Duh, now go get warm. I’ll be home in like 10.” He said back.

You threw some close on, finding the key quickly before going into his house. “His house is cold too” you whined but felt hopeful about the shower. You all had separate water heaters so hopefully his was still working. When you felt the water you let out a sigh of relief, yes hot water. You took note how clean his place was though. For a man living by himself it was pretty impressive. His room only being slightly messy but still somehow neat.

Half way through your shower you heard a knock at the door “hey, my heats not working either, is the water at least warm?” He asked.

“Yep! Your water at least works”

He felt a sense of relief, he knew he’d be fine. He was like a walking heater. So while you finished up he found every blanket he could throwing them on the couch. He didn’t even notice you walking out as he got everything situated. When he turned to see you standing there he let out a gasp. “You scared the shit out of me” he said clenching his chest making you laugh.

“I stopped by a place on my way home and got some food just incase the power wasn’t working or something” he said making his way to get the bags. He sat everything down on the coffee table, he moved some blankets and patted the seat. “Come here, I can see you shivering”

Sitting beside him you could feel the warmth coming off of him. He wrapped the blankets around you pulling you a bit closer to him. “God you’re freezing, you were supposed to take a warm shower not an ice bath” he teased. “Here, I got you some soup to warm you up” he said with that sweet smile.

After eating he put on a movie before pulling you to him. He wrapped an arm around your side trying to keep you warm. You were still shivering a little and it was making him a bit worried. “Wanna go to my room? We can watch the movie in there and cuddle? Be easier to keep you warm” he said with an almost worried look. When you nodded he wrapped the covers around you and with no warning he hoisted you up. He carried you bridal style to the bed laying you down gently. “I’d say I didn’t think you could carry me but you brought that heavy ass table up” you laughed.

“Oh please with these arms? I can carry anything” he said flexing his muscle.

“Whatever you say muscle man” you teased.

“Hey keep it up and you won’t get any cuddles” he teased back.

“You wouldn’t do that! You wanna cuddle me more than I wanna cuddle you!” You said with a pout.

“Oh so you really wanna cuddle huh” he said with a smirk.

He quickly got under the covers with you pulling you to his chest. His arm wrapping around you as he rubbed your back. “Whatever my princess wants” he said with a hum. When you didn’t argue or say anything to his words he couldn’t help but smile. You curled your body up around him draping your leg over his. He was so warm and boy was he so nice to cuddle with. It felt so comfortable and cozy.

After about an hour or so he noticed you were still slightly shivering. He figured it was your hair that was still a bit damp. He pulled you tightly to him, eyes going a bit wide when he realized you didn’t have a bra on. He could feel your soft breast against him, your hard nipples poking at him. His mind started to wander ‘I bet they’re so soft’ ‘I could put such pretty marks on them’. As his mind was flooded with thoughts he could feel himself getting hard. He felt embarrassed being turned on by you so easily but he couldn’t help it. You were so beautiful to him, like a beautiful warm sunset.

He didn’t even realize how close your leg was to his cock not until your leg brushed against it when you moved. Oh you definitely felt that. Your sleepy eyes widened at the feeling. You bit your lip trying not to moan at the pure feeling of his length against your leg. You moved a bit more feeling yourself getting wet at the thought of it. When the smell of you hit his nose he couldn’t help but let out a soft groan.

Without thinking his arm that was wrapped around you still slid down to cup your ass. Kneading it like he was making dough. A soft moan left your lips, he couldn’t stop himself. Turning his body towards you his lips crashed into yours. His lips were warm like the rest of him, tongue finding its way into your mouth. His hands roamed your body pulling you deeper into the heated make out session. They came under your shirt feeling at the soft skin. His big hand cupping your breast as he groaned into the kiss. His thumb rubbed over your sensitive nipples.

In the heat of the moment your wondering hands came down to his clothed cock. He was agonizingly hard. The gentle touch of your hand making him buck up to your touch. The kiss felt more desperate after that like he needed you in the worst way. As your hand ran up and down his cock he let out low groans only to be devoured back into the kiss. He slid the hand from your tits to your clothed core. Rubbing through the material only for a few seconds before dipping it past the hem of your shorts.

When he felt how slick your folds were his eyes fluttered. As he rubbed up and down you detached from the kiss letting out moan. Both of you had this hazy look on your face. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck kissing it sloppily his sharp teeth grazing it. When you let out another moan he couldn’t help drag them across again.

Your brain reacted without warning diving your hand into his pants to stroke his leaking cock. He let out a whinny groan bucking his hips once more into your touch. His fingers dove into your core matching the speed of your hand. The room quickly filled with whimpers and moans as you both touched each other. He nipped at your ear before he said in the hottest sultry voice “you really this wet f’me?” He said. When you nodded squeezing his cock slightly at his words he let out another honey groan against your ear.

“Tell me- tell me how bad you want me.” His voice deep.

“Want you- please Binnie” you whimpered.

“How many times have you thought about me fucking you princess hmm?” He said in an almost teasing tone.

“S’many time”

“Yeah? Have you touched yourself to me?” He asked.

“Y-yes”

“Show me princess” he said before removing himself from you.

He got up looking down you as he stripped himself of his clothes. He moved the blankets from you before quickly taking off your short as you rid yourself of your shirt. “Show Binnie how you touch yourself to the thought of me” he ordered. Your fingers slinked down to your cunt before circling over your clit. He watched intently as he stroked himself slowly. He watched as you dipped your fingers into your core taking mental notes of your noises. He again matched the pace of you, eyes glued to your wet hole.

“You- you close princess?” He said eyes half open. When you nodded he couldn’t help but groan.

“B-Binnie please- want you” you said desperately.

“Yeah? What do you want me to do?” He said eyes fluttering to your blushed faced.

“Fuck me- please- please fuck me binnie”

Without anymore words he kneeled in front of you, pushing your legs open more. When you pulled your hands away from your core he quickly grabbed your hand. He brought it up to his mouth sucking all your juices off of them before letting it go. “R-remind me to have you suffocate me between those sweet thighs later.” He said with a smirk. He gripped his girthy cock moving it up and down your folds before pushing in slowly.

He let you get situated with his sheer thickness before moving. Gripping your legs he fucked into you desperately, as much as he wanted to take it slow he needed you so badly. The feeling of your warm cunt sucking him in so good he couldn’t help it. His thick cock hitting the back of your walls, hitting right against your cervix. As he fucked into you, your arms came around him. Nails digging into him slightly. He watched your face contort in pleasure before quickly crashing his lips into once more.

The kiss was sloppy full of need, tongues wrestling for dominance. In one swift motion he pulled up to him lifting your lower body up. Your body arched in a new position had him feeling deeper. “Can you feel me princess? I’m right here” he said pushing his hand down a bit on your lower half. With that small push he felt even bigger. You could almost see him in your guts fucking into you so rough. You let out the most gluteal moan walls tightening around him. Your high washed over you unexpectedly making your body shake from the orgasm.

“F-Fuck!” He stuttered out. He moved his head down sucking harshly at your nipples. Teeth grazing them slightly. He brought a hand down circling around your clit. “Princess- fuck- you feel so fucking good” he groaned out against your skin.

“You feel even better” you choked out feeling another orgasms already creeping up on you.

Almost like he could read your mind his movements become more desperate “fuck princess you gonna cum again? Make a mess on my cock”

He nipped at your nipples leaving a trail of small bite marks and hickeys covering your breasts. “Wanna- cum with you” you stuttered out. He moved his head back up looking down at the mess you were in. The way those beautiful eyes looked so fucked out he was gonna lose it. “Close princess” he said before attaching his lips back to yours once more. He let your body back down on the bed his free hand coming up to cup your face.

“Gonna- gonna cum!” You said legs wrapping around him.

“M-me fucking too” he said in response. You could feel his cock twitching inside you. His hand playing with your clit more before he felt your walls sucking him in. “Cumming!” You almost screamed.

With a just one more harsh thrust he was cumming hard inside you. Coating your walls with his thick cum. He let out a loud almost growl before his body slowed.

He wrapped his arms around you kissing any part of you he could. After a few moments of catching breaths he felt your body shake once more. He couldn’t help but chuckle pulling the covers over the both of you. “How are you still cold?” He said. He leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you softly. “How about we get cleaned up and I make us some hot chocolate?” He said with smile.

You nodded but when he went to get up you quickly pulled him back “in a minute I just- wanna cuddle a bit more” you said softly.

“Whatever my princess wants.” He said nuzzling back into you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @jehhskz @babigriin @kkamismom12 @jeonginsleftcheek

[faithshouseofchaos]

Franco x driver reader- She is a rookie who started before him and the others on the grid are protective of her since she has no one with her (her family never goes to see her or supports her). They start talking and the other drivers act like older brothers.

A/n— Hi 👋 @alex-wotton I went with the last one because it really stood out to me because I realized last night that if I was a f1 driver traveling to races would be pretty lonely as my mom has lupus and is in pain all the time and my siblings are still in school while my dad works out on the road. I will also be doing the others to.

Oh one more thing this is just a little look into the big fic around this request I’ll be doing later… depending on how well this does.

"They mean well" — Franco Colapinto x fem! rookie diver! Reader

Fluff slightly angsty

Word count—1122

Summary — Franco befriend's the female Alpine rookie the only problem is that he now has to deal with her guard dogs.

The first few weeks on the grid were a whirlwind, especially since you were a rookie in a sport where every second counts, and every move you make is scrutinized. It was hard, almost overwhelming, and though you knew the other drivers were competitive, you quickly realized that there was a quieter, more supportive side to them. You couldn’t deny how much it helped to have the older drivers looking out for you.

Lando had taken to teasing you right away. His cheeky humor and constant lighthearted comments were always enough to make you laugh, even on the toughest days. “You’re doing better than most of the vets, you know,” he’d say after a particularly good lap, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Next time, you’ll have to give me some pointers!”

Max, who often seemed aloof to others, was surprisingly attentive. He noticed when you were on your own, after long days when you would simply wander the paddock, minding your own business. Without a word, he would sidle up next to you, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and talk about the most mundane things—anything to take your mind off the pressure. “Have you ever tried the coffee from the new stand near the paddock? Best one in town,” he’d comment, knowing full well it was an excuse to pull you into a conversation that wasn’t about racing for once.

Charles, ever the older brother type, was the one who would make sure you didn’t slip into your head too much. He could tell when the weight of everything was starting to build up on your shoulders. “Hey,” he’d say, voice gentle but firm. “You’re doing fine. Don’t let the stress get to you. You have a team behind you.”

And then there was Franco. He was quieter than the others, but his presence was undeniable. He’d only just joined the grid, and the others were quick to embrace him, but it was clear that his personality was different—calmer, more reserved. You found that, over time, you felt a quiet connection with him. It wasn’t an in-your-face, loud support, but a steady, reassuring presence.

One evening, after another intense qualifying session, you found yourself walking alone by the garages, replaying every corner of the track in your head. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, but you didn’t want to be a burden to the others, so you walked it off in silence. Franco noticed you from across the paddock and, with a knowing look, excused himself from a conversation he was having with Lando.

When he reached you, there was no fanfare, just a casual ease that made you relax almost immediately.

“Hey, everything okay?” Franco asked, his voice soft yet direct.

You smiled, a little weary, but grateful. “Just thinking about the session. Could’ve done better.”

He shook his head, his lips curling into a small smile. “You did fine. We all have those moments, don’t overthink it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It’s just… hard sometimes. Being the rookie and feeling like you’re always falling short.”

Franco tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment before replying. “I get it. I’m still the new guy here too, remember? But honestly, the others are looking out for you. They’ve got your back.”

The way he said it was simple, but there was a sincerity behind it that made something inside you relax. Franco wasn’t offering empty words—he meant it.

And it wasn’t just him. The next time you walked into the paddock and bumped into Max, he clapped you on the shoulder with a grin. “You looked a bit off yesterday. If you need a break, you know where to find me.”

Lando, catching wind of the exchange, chimed in from a few feet away. “Yeah, don’t make us have to drag you into our fun. We’re here for more than just the racing.”

The protectiveness came in waves. Sometimes it was subtle—Charles, pulling you aside to offer advice on staying focused during the race, or Lando, joking around to make you laugh when the stress of the weekend was beginning to get to you. But sometimes, it was a little more overt.

The first time you really felt the weight of their protectiveness was after a particularly tough race, where you finished outside the points. The media was relentless, questions flying about whether you were cut out for the sport, and you could feel the eyes of the paddock on you.

As you were heading back to your garage, head down, trying to shut out the noise, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Max.

“You don’t let them get to you,” he said quietly, looking you in the eyes. “It’s one race. And you’ll get them next time.”

Before you could respond, Lando appeared, his usual grin plastered across his face. “Max is right, of course. And if they keep giving you trouble, just let me know. I’m pretty good at handling the media.”

Charles joined them, his voice more serious than usual. “We’ve all been there. Don’t let them make you doubt yourself. We’re all in this together.”

That was when it hit you—this wasn’t just about the competition on the track. They truly cared about you, and despite the pressures of racing, they weren’t about to let you face it alone.

Franco appeared just as they were finishing up, walking over to the group with a quiet smile. “Everyone’s right,” he added, offering a knowing look. “And if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always around. No need to fight your battles alone.”

From that moment on, you felt the weight of their protectiveness more than ever. It wasn’t just about them looking out for a rookie; it was about them making sure you knew that no matter what happened, you weren’t alone on the grid.

The bond between you and Franco deepened as the weeks went on. In between races, the two of you shared quiet conversations in the back of the garage, or while waiting for your cars to be prepped. You spoke about everything—racing, family, the weird quirks of the Formula 1 lifestyle, and even the things you’d been avoiding thinking about. Franco’s steady support and dry humor became something you could rely on, and the way he listened without judgment made him one of the few you truly felt comfortable with.

In a world that often felt like a competition to survive, you finally understood: you had people here, and they weren’t just teammates or rivals—they were your family.

And Franco, despite being new to the grid himself, was starting to feel more like a brother than just a teammate.

[lovebugism]

id love to request a blurb with eddie and reader who has some family trauma. like parental issues 🥲 and just eddie being a sweetheart 

prompt: “what’s wrong with me? why didn’t they love me? why wasn’t i good enough for them?” 

ty for requesting!! — eddie comforts you after a fight with your dad (established relationship, hurt/comfort cw for mentions of childhood trauma | 1.5k)

“I think I’m broken.”

From where you’re laid on Eddie’s chest, you can feel the rumbling of his laughter against your cheek. The bubbly sound of his boyish chuckling almost makes you smile. Almost.

“I don’t know…” he lilts, smoothing his hand over your back, as though to check for any cracks or scrapes. “You seem pretty perfect to me.”

“Shut up,” you murmur and tuck your burning face into his chest — a desperate and feeble attempt to hide. Your nose smushes against his neck, and you take a deep breath in. The familiar scent of weed and woody cologne fills your lungs.

“You don’t feel broken either—” Eddie teases, just before jabbing your side with two fingers.

The fleeting tickling sensation makes you squeal as your hand jerks out to swat at him. The flailing limb finds purchase on his stomach, which trembles now with laughter. 

Your body, moving on its own accord in reaction to his prodding, rises from the pillow you’d made upon his body. You move to the very edge of his mattress, knees pulled up to your chest, and sit with your back facing the lazing boy.

You wince and rub at your side, though it hadn’t hurt at all.

“I’m being serious, Eds,” you whine in protest, sparing the boy a glance over your shoulder.

“Oh, right. Serious,” he responds, still joking as he clears his throat and lowers his voice a few octaves. “Very serious.”

You manage a small smile before turning away again. You focus your gaze on your lap and fidget with a loose thread hanging from the hem of your sock. It’s easier than looking back at him — at the boy who’s made a superpower out of making you laugh. Even though he’s in bed with you now, you don’t feel nearly as happy as you know you should be.

It’s not fair. Not to either of you.

“I’m just… I’m just thinking about the fight. You know. With my dad,” you confess, voice featherlight and faraway. The sock tightens around your ankle when you pull the string taut. You wrap it around the tip of your finger until it turns a shade darker. “I’m starting to feel like maybe it’s my fault…”

Eddie grows suddenly solemn.

“Hey… That’s… No,” he stammers and rises on his elbows, trying to find the right words to comfort you. “I mean, no offense, babe, but your dad’s an asshole. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“No, I know, it’s just… He’s a good guy to everyone but me, you know? Like, the whole town loves him— and he loves ‘em back, but just not… Just not me,” you say, laughing softly to yourself, still refusing to meeting Eddie’s chocolate gaze that swims now with concern. The tip of your finger starts to tingle with numbness. “And I’m just like… what’s wrong with me, you know? Why doesn’t he love me? What did I do that was so wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Eddie answers for you, gentle but still stern in his way. He reaches out for you and curls his ringed fingers around the crook of your elbow — if nothing but to feel you and to keep you tethered. 

You turn to look at him then, a feeble glance from the corner of your eye. His hair is wild with sex and sleep. His cheeks are flushed and rosy. His mouth is pink and softly swollen. He’s glowing and pretty and perfect. You want to keep him forever this way, like a picture in a locket or a love letter in your wallet.

“He puts up a front with the rest of the town, so no one can see what a jerk he really is, right?” Eddie tells you. “But you know the real him. And he hates that you know the real him, so he takes it out on you.”

It’s a lot more profound than anything you could’ve expected to spill from his mouth. And it hurts even more because you know he’s right.

You were raised with your father’s urge to people-please. It didn’t matter how crazy your life got, just as long as no one else had to see it. None of the bullshit mattered if people didn’t know it was there. That was your father’s philosophy, at least. 

You become half daughter, half apology — blundering with the uncertainty of yourself and the wrong kind of love.

Eddie was the first person you ever let in. 

You showed him all your chaos, and he loved you just the same. The catastrophe of your personality was suddenly beautiful again — interesting and lovely and warm. You were perfect because you weren’t.

It’s why you run away to Eddie’s trailer so often, and why you’re here even now. Because he lets you be human — clumsy and naive and starry-eyed — and doesn’t snatch any of it away from you. He just holds you.

His warm hand squeezes your arm in reassurance. His eyes glint with sincerity. “He’s not your dad, okay? He’s just… some guy with a kid. And why should some guy get to make the best girl in the world feel so sad?”

A smile quirks at the corner of your mouth, and trembles softly as you confess: “I’m just scared that I’m unloveable.”

The heaviness of the moment and of your admission is swept aside with the stubborn shake of Eddie’s head. He dispels the thought from his own mind with enough vigor to take it from yours, too.

He rises fully and slides towards the edge of the bed so he’s behind you. One leg curls behind your back while the other sits straight out beside your own. His warmth envelops you wholly, like warm honey or a soft blanket. The hand on your arm doesn’t move. This boy and his touch are the steadiest things you’ve ever known.

“Well, that’s just not true,” he argues, lips warm on your shoulder as he presses a kiss over your t-shirt. He rests his chin there a second later.

Your face scrunches softly in discontent. You don’t like how sure he sounds, batting off your concerns with the finesse of someone who knows more than you do. 

“How would you know?”

“‘Cause I love you,” he answers like it’s obvious, chin bobbing with every word. “And so does a ton of other people. But I matter the most, so… It just can’t be true, you know? Process of elimination or whatever.”

It’s hard to see him from this angle, with his face so close to yours. You want so badly to kiss him, but you can’t look away from his chocolate button eyes and the sparkle they look at you with.

You don’t want to smile, but you can’t help it — like some kind of pouting child. The expression tugs slowly at your mouth before bursting into glittering rays of sunshine. It’s like blue skies after pouring rain, how swiftly you recover.

“There she is,” Eddie singsongs with a beaming grin of his own. He presses a kiss to your cheek, so full of intent that it smacks when he parts from you. You laugh when the edges of his curls tickle your jaw. 

“You okay now?” he asks — just measuring the temperature, not boxing you into a corner.

It’s not the ‘you have to be okay’ that you’re used to.

Instead, it’s a — ‘it’s okay if you’re not okay, I’ll just kiss you a million times until you forget why you were sad.’

You nod. “Yeah, I’m okay… Thanks, Eds”

Eddie watches you go suddenly sheepish, peering at him from beneath your lashes like you’re embarrassed to have been human in front of him.

“Don’t thank me,” he scoffs. “I just love you— You shouldn’t thank me for that.”

“Right,” you answer with a soft laugh. ‘Cause you’re still getting used to that — being loved without having to give anything in return other than your own affection. Sometimes, your heart is enough.

You settle finally in his arms, full of warmth and contentment. You wrap your arms around the ones he holds you with. Eddie lets you fall heavy on his chest — warm honey, soft blanket.

“I love you, too, by the way,” you hum after a moment of velvet silence.

Eddie presses his lips to the crown of your head and smiles. “I know.”

“Kinda makes me feel like a little carton of strawberries.”

He laughs into your hair. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” you lilt, giggling right along with him. “That’s just what it feels like… I love you so much, it’s like… Like I’m holding the sun on both sides or something.”

“Whoa. That’s a lot,” he muses, only partially playful. “Still not as much as I love you, though.”

And, for now, you don’t argue.

There isn’t a reason to, really. 

You love each other, and that’s enough.

Nothing can beat the feeling of finally being understood, of being held in the right hands. Nor is anything as liberating as the pursuit of wholeness instead of perfection. 

And in Eddie’s arms, you’re whole.

[sixty-silver-wishes]

yep. knew a guy in high school with an abusive girlfriend. 100% sounds like what happened with them.

I was friends with this guy, let's call him david, since like. first grade; our moms were good friends as well. so, our families went out for ice cream once, and david and I took a picture together, and I posted it to my snapchat. I did that whenever I went out with friends; that's just a normal thing that teenagers do.

a while later, david isn't talking to me at school. I found out that david's girlfriend had seen the picture of us. she asked david who I was, and he said I was his friend. she then asked if he thought I was pretty, and he said yes (what do you answer in that situation?). she then told david not to talk to me, or any other female friends he had. david's girlfriend didn't even go to the same school as us.

later on in college, david ended up dropping out to move out of state with his girlfriend. I didn't hear from him since he stopped talking to me in high school, so I assumed our friendship was basically dead. it wasn't until months later when he messaged me and told me that they broke up. she'd go through his phone and demand to see everything, saying that she had "trust issues" from being cheated on in the past.

I want to make this clear- regardless of gender, "trust issues" is not an excuse for controlling someone else. if you don't trust someone enough to accept that they have their own life- their own phone, their own friends, their own interests, their own documents- maybe you shouldn't be in a relationship with them in the first place.

I don’t know how many boys follow me, but I gotta bet there’s some. I just wanna tell y’all to be careful.

Abusive girls exist and what they’re doing is seen as like “badass tough don’t take no shit” but your girl should not hit you. Ever.

She should not demand for you to hand over your phone to look through.

She should not yell at you and humiliate you either alone or in front of people.

She shouldn’t make you distance yourself from your friends or family.

She shouldn’t scratch you or twist your arms.

She should not call you names.

She shouldn’t tell you ‘she’ll kill herself if you break up’

These are just a few examples of abuse and it’s just seen as okay when girls do it and god knows I’ve fallen victim to it a few times, but you shouldn’t have to.

Never worry about not being in a relationship. If they’re worth it, they won’t hurt you.

No one has the right to hurt you.

[moonshynecybin]

I’ve only been into/started following MotoGP for a few months. Can I ask how exactly did Marc getting the Ducati seat go down? I’ve seen references of it being jorge messing up/rejecting the seat and that somehow leading to Marc masterminding his way to it but don’t fully get it. Thank you :))))

lmao it was awesome. under the cut shes crazy shes long shes the war of the roses shes game of thrones shes ducati being fucking STUPID !!!!!

okay so the beginning of this season going towards the middle was like. genuinely dominated by discussion of who would end up with the second factory ducati seat, and there were 3 main candidates for the position: 1. enea bastianini, who had the seat but who had had a spotty 2023 marred by injury and was delivering inconsistent results in the early part of 2024, 2. jorge martin, who had been basically promised the seat ahead of them uno reversing and signing enea, and who had contended for the title the year before/was leading the world championship early in 2024, and 3. marc marquez, 8 time world champion and arguable GOAT of the sport, who was doing insane comeback rides on a year old bike that he had very little time to adapt to. on pure results, you would have to go with martin (it was p clear it wasnt going to be my girl enea....), but marc looked uh. very promising and very dangerous (apparently his data, ESPECIALLY in the left handers, was like. bonkers), and who was also undeniably a better business asset to ducati as a company trying to sell motorbikes. and as we all knowwwwww, ducati had BY FARRRR the most dominant bike on the grid, so they are staring down the barrel of like. deciding between three excellent riders for one, extremely coveted seat. they think they hold all the cards here, and after a bit of rampant speculation the ducati bosses say everybody calm the fuck down we will make a decision about the gp25 seat at MUGELLO. forza. and with that the stage is set.

but again. ducati had basically promised jorge martin that seat. in fact, there was a provision in his contract that said if he won the world title in 2023, he would automatically be promoted to the factory team. like if marc doesnt come in on his merry way essentially doing a year long AUDITION for that seat up-to and including crowd-commanding theatrics, then it is undeniably martin's bike to have. and it looks like ducati kinda thought they should honor that too! because it was reported (unofficially but through a multitude of reliable sources) on the thursday before mugello that jorge martin WOULD be signing with the factory ducati team to be in red for 2025 IMMINENTLY. and he shows up to the presscon with the moon shinging out of his ass and we didnt rlly have a reason to doubt him so things are looking pretty locked up tbh

so another piece of the puzzle. for the last few years one cog in the wheel of ducati's dominance has been them having EIGHT bikes on the grid, and as such having insane amounts of data to comb through and synthesize while developing the bike. at the time, the team with the most factory support is pramac racing. but YAMAHA have made a promise to a young shirtless man named fabio quartararo that they will get a satellite team for 2024 to help with THEIR efforts, and pramac's contract with ducati is expiring so theyre the top choice. yamaha offers them a fuck you amount of cash and full factory support to leave ducati and come run the M1s with them. and the thing is, it is EXPENSIVE to run an independent team and this sugar daddy style deal would essentially lock down their immediate future quite nicely, so they are thinking HARD about this— because if they lose jorge martin like. what the fuck are they doing not taking that deal. and YOU are asking me girl what the fuck does this had to do with marc marquez WELLLLL. ducati know that marc wants a gp25. and pramac has the factory spec bikes. and marc's famous ass is a VERY valuable little bargaining chip in their eyes. so ducati APPARENTLY wanted marc on the same deal jorge martin was on (complete with the promise of factory promotion if he won the championship) at PRAMAC in order to keep marc, jorge martin, and pramac all under the umbrella of ducati racing. they think problem solved :) we get to keep everything and everyone :) marc gets a current spec bike, jorge gets to be on the factory team, and we can still run eight bikes :) awesome.

WELL! marc catches wind of all of this and goes. fuck you i want to be a factory rider on a gp25. like why on earth would he move from busted satellite team to busted satellite team that doesnt even have his BROTHER ? so instead of keeping all of these negotiations behind closed doors he trots right the fuck up to the press at mugello and says hello yes i have ABSOLUTELY no intention of riding for pramac, in fact i only have the intention of riding with factory teams. big smile. fuck you. press run wild. domino tipped. pramac pissed off. ducati SWEATING.

AND i guess the ducati CEO (claudioooooo) was there. and some big sponsorship guys (audiiiiiii) were there. and it has been LONG been reported that gigi daligna really wanted marc for that seat (and that pecco REALLY didnt lmao). like bad. some would say carnally. and then i guess they looked at his data. and thought about how well he had already adapted to the gp23. and how badly he was beating bez and company. and i suppose the idea of actually losing marc and him going to a KTM or an aprilia scared the actual genuine NIPS off of these guys and literally by sunday night they had apparently called jorge martin to let him know that it wasnt going to be him and he went over to aleix and got that aprilia contract signed genuinely immediately (and enea later signed with ktm and pramac with yamaha). so the aprilia news was announced on monday and we knew marc was the choice from that, and then they announced it officially in the dumbest smuggest little video of all time a lil while after. but not before marc took a selfie in a shirt that said FACTORY PILOT that he later lied about and said wasnt on purpose. king. done and dusted. insanity.

so to recap: in the course of four days, marc essentially pulled a coup out of thin air by just. deciding to exercise some muscle with the press, which caused ducati to lose two bikes, secured the best seat on the grid for himself, and made sure that two of the riders that finished top four in this year's championship (including the CHAMPION) are on much worse machines going into next year. like he literally created the best possible outcome for himself by virtue of his reputation, media savvy, and sheer force of will. it was absolute crazy shit and SO much fun to watch play out live

[holybibly]

A sweet treat for my bunnies in honour of the one and only fascinating fox, Jung Wooyoung's birthday.

Unholy hour of the day: You love Wooyoung's possessive side, maybe so much that sometimes you don't mind playing with fire to see how long you can push his buttons before he puts you down.

Or you flirt with the other members, and Wooyoung has to use a rather unconventional method to remind you who you belong to. Inspired by their latest comeback, your boyfriend tests your limits by using ice play.

Warning: Temperature play, ice play

"Tell me, who do you belong to, Peach?' Wooyoung asks you in a sultry, hoarse voice as he hovers seductively over you and slowly moves his cold, plump lips along the tender column of your neck. You can feel the remnants of ice that were still in his mouth quickly melting as they come into contact with your heated skin, sending shivers of excitement through your spine. His lithe, strong body traps you between the searing heat of his smooth, honeyed skin and the coolness of the black silk sheets, plunging you into a voluptuous abyss of contrasting sensations as he continues to leisurely explore your skin with his incredibly soft lips and licking the moisture that has accumulated on it languidly with his cool tongue. 

"I don't know... maybe you're the one who can tell me who I belong to, Woo?" Your voice is hardly louder than a whisper as you say these words. Maybe you're being a little too bold, teasing Wooyoung like this, knowing full well that he won't let it go and will surely punish you for it. But the dark, burning stare of his heavy siren eyes and the sharp touch of his teeth against your skin were absolutely worth it. 

Wooyoung lets out a grim chuckle that doesn't bode well and makes you shiver before he grabs a fresh ice cube from the crystal vase on your bedside table and slides it across the hollow between your soft, large breasts. The air in your bedroom is so exhaustingly heavy, mixed with the rich smoky cherry scent of Woooo's favourite perfume, and it settles into your lungs with each deep breath, soaking into the airy velvety flesh of your lungs and clouding your mind. Your whole body blossoms under his touch. The contrast of the hot body hovering over you and the scintillant cold ice feels divine, delightful enough to make your pretty pussythrob with desire.

"Hmm, try it once more, Peach. C'mon, it's so easy, isn't it? Who do you belong to?" Wooyoung begins to guide the ice cube up the side of one of your breasts until he has pressed the clear, frozen piece of water against your berry-red nipple. Over and over again, it goes round and round your swollen, pointed nipple in a circle until the ice has completely melted. Warm trickles of liquid run down your sides and down your stomach, dripping onto the silk sheets beneath you and leaving dark trails of desire, and you catch your breath as he leans over your breast and sucks your almost numb nipple into his wet, warm mouth. 

Your whole body burns with fever from the scorching touch of his soft, sensual lips. You tangle your fingers in his hair, squeezing the silky, raven-wing-coloured strands between your trembling fingers as he continues to service your nipple with his tongue and teeth. Wooyoung gently bites down on the sensitive flesh, holding it in tension, and then pulls gently on it a couple of times before releasing it from his mouth with a wet, loud 'pop' sound. 

"Peach..." Your boyfriend purrs sultrily and huskily, taking a fresh ice cube from the vase. "I'm still waitin' for your answer."

"Maybe it's San? You know he looks after me..." You stammer, continuing to annoy Wooyoung, but all of your insolence melts away as quickly as the ice as Wooyoung begins his delicious torture with your other breast. The sensation of the cold and the heat makes you gasp for breath, and you raise your juicy, soft thighs in a silent plea for more.

"You know I can do this all night, baby." Wooyoung runs his cold fingers over your belly as he slides down your body and nestles himself comfortably between your spread legs. 

I... I don't know...' Your hips sway invitingly to his touch as Wooyoung's fingertips finally reach your pussy. Even though you know it's coming, you can't help but let out a loud cry as the icy cube caught between the pads of his fingers presses against your clit. 

He rubs the melting ice cube agonisingly slowly around your sensitive nerve cluster before lightly pushing it between your plump labia to slide it down your slit to your little hole. Just when you think Wooyoung can't make his little game any more sophisticated, he blows lightly on your quivering wet folds, causing you to roll your eyes in pleasure and squirm in your spot. The black silk sheets beneath you are soon soaked with melting ice and the slime that oozes from your trembling hole. 

Wooyoung barely lets you breathe as he clamps a new ice cube between his teeth and spreads your labia with two fingers, then presses the ice directly against your swollen clit, watching it shrink and turn red from the cold. Cool water runs down your cunt as the ice cube melts in his mouth, and Woo continues, soaking you with the melting ice until it's completely gone, then stroking your clit with his hot tongue—the change in temperature making you shiver with excitement, your hands clutching the sheets tightly as your hips begin to sway weakly against his caresses.

"Just say it, baby, and I'll fuck you. That's what you want, Peach, isn't it? Do you want my cock to fill up that needy cunt of yours?" Wooyoung purrs in between long, messy licks of your pussy, his tongue feeling like it is scalding hot as it swirls around your clit. To spur you on to the right answer, Woo slides two cold fingers inside you. He immediately presses them against your sweet spot, rubbing it mercilessly with his wet, icy fingertips. 

You squeal as his fingers begin to fuck you roughly and quickly, stretching you in the most delightful way, and you belatedly realise that Woooo has not taken his rings off. The massive pieces of silver jewellery drag along your slippery, quivering walls, cooling your heated flesh each time Wooyoung slides his fingers inside of you until his broad palm is completely pressed against your wet, trembling cunt. 

"Damn it, Peach, just tell me who the hell you belong to." Wooyoung growls in a low voice as he wraps your swollen clit with his sensual lips and sucking on it in the same rhythm as his fingers work their way into your hole. He is practically breaking you down, his name hanging on the tip of your tongue as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

And then it stops. Wooyoung releases your throbbing clit and slowly pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you with a pitiful whimper as your cocky behaviour comes back to haunt you in the form of a ruined orgasm. 

"No... Wooyoung, please let me cum." Your whimpers pitifully. Your whole body is twitching in the painful need for that sweet release.

"Oh, you finally remembered my name, huh, peach?" Wooyoung grins wickedly and reaches for another ice cube, only to slide it across your slit again, causing you to gasp and squeal loudly. Woo moves the rapidly melting ice cube to your clenching hole and pushes the half-melted cube into you, sending a violent shiver through your entire body. He has to press his palm against your stomach to hold you in place as he continues to slide the ice cube in and out of your pussy until it melts into a puddle in his hands. "So, I ask you one last time, my sweet Peach. Who do you belong to?" Wоо's voice is soft and hoarse, and you can't resist him any longer. 

'You!' You cry out, just as Wooyoung pushes his fingers into you once more. "I am yours, Wooyoung."

'That's right, baby.' Woo smiles as he flexes his fingers inside you and strokes your G-spot with the pads of his fingers to pamper you for your obedience. 'Have you finally decided to behave like a good girl?"

'Yes, I have Daddy.' You whisper in a trembling voice. 'Now are you going to fuck me?"

Wooyoung chuckles, painfully slowly pulling his fingers, smeared in your slime, out of your hole, and crawling up your body, trapping you between his body and the silk sheets again. His eyes are dark and full of lust as he leans down to your face to kiss you lightly on your parted lips. 

"Yes, Peaches, now Daddy's going to fuck you."

[mumblingsage]

Since making this post, I've found myself swinging like a pendulum between "I was too absolutist in the OP, there probably are some people who have gotten some form of trauma through reading or watching a movie" and "I still don't believe anyone has been traumatized through reading or watching a movie because I haven't seen any evidence of that happening, nor an explanation of how it would happen." Certainly, if someone stumbles away from a book/movie/podcast/etc with trauma symptoms, they deserve full support and recovery. But from everything I know about trauma (I am not an accredited expert and don't know everything), that isn't likely to happen. I'm not convinced our brains don't make clear distinctions between being in life-threatening danger and sitting in a comfortable chair with our eyes on a page or screen. The edge cases I've been presented with have usually had a pretty clear real-life culprit aside from, or at least in strong addition to, the book/movie (abusive family won't let you turn the horror movie off-->this is a context for trauma even if the movie was a comedy).

Nobody owes me information about their personal health and if, after reading my post, someone goes "Yeah, we shouldn't use 'traumatized' as an exaggeration or term of condemnation for media, but I really am traumatized after reading Bridge to Terebithia and I'll keep using that word," more power to them. Several people, though, have responded with more general claims, as you have, that amount to "But fiction can cause trauma," without backing this statement up. (This is the part where the hornets' nest swings back: don't worry, I'm a swarm of very lazy and pedantic hornets.) To tell me, in effect, "Your brain can't tell the difference between watching 2012 and surviving an actual earthquake," you're asking me to make a pretty big shift in my understanding of how brains and people work, and I'm not willing to go that far just because someone tells me so. There's a chapter early in The Body Keeps the Score where Bessel van der Kolk talks about brain scans he did with two survivors of a car accident to measure the physical impact of PTSD, and at this moment in time, I don't believe the same brain rewiring has ever happened as a result of reading about a car accident.

(Someone brought up vicarious trauma, but all the examples I can find of vicarious trauma relate to media coverage or secondhand experience of real-life tragedies. To speak very briefly from personal experience, a loved one's sudden death can cause/be a vicarious trauma even if you don't witness it firsthand. Reading Bridge to Terebitha isn't equivalent to having a real person in your life die suddenly. It's actually very significant that when you close the book, your friends and loved ones are still alive!)

I'm wondering if, as a society who cares about vulnerable people, we could stop saying "traumatize" when we truly mean "upset"?

I am sick of hearing sad books or movies "traumatize" their readers. I simply do not believe that happens. A traumatic experience might be adjacent to books (I have vivid memories of books I was reading around certain experiences and even how the contents of those books affected my processing of the experiences). But it's not caused by the book. And, y'know. The weather is Christofascist Censorship Attempts outside.

Meanwhile from the other side I continue to be surprised at just how badly people fail to understand trauma and traumatic experiences in general. Watering down the term isn't helping. Find other hyperbole to express that The Bridge to Terebithia gutted you, chewed on your heartstrings, and made you cry your first pair of contact lenses right out of your preteen eyes.

[iwannaleavemymind]

Omg I can’t stop thinking about incubus Sukuna-

Minors dni

Enjoy my little feins❤️❤️❤️

Incubus!Sukuna who mocks you when you ‘accidentally’ summon him.

“Aw the lonely girl just fuckin around with magic and found her way to me hm?”

Incubus!Sukuna has your pretty lips wrapped around his cock in only a few minutes, his tip bullying the back of your throat, degrading and mocking the way you drool all over him.

“Tsk, such a messy girl.”

Incubus!Sukuna roughly thrusting in an out of your abused throat, fucking you like his own personal toy all for himself.

Incubus!Sukuna degrading you when you struggle to take him fully, muffled whimpers and tears streak down your face fuel his sadistic fantasies, quickly tightening his grip on your hair and tugging your head back, tongue lolling out and finally coming up for air.

Incubus!Sukuna cums all on your tongue, making you swallow his seed and sticking your tongue out to prove it.

“Mm good girl.”

Incubus!Sukuna lifting you up princess style, tossing you into the bed and catching your lips in a hot needy kiss, his hands roaming your body his hands kneeling the soft skin of your breasts.

“Cmon princess use your words.”

Incubus!Sukuna makes quick work of slipping you out of your clothes, stripping you down to your lacy bra and panties, his fingers toying with your soaked pussy, thumb circling and pinching your clit causing little whimpers and cries to slip past your lips.

Incubus!Sukuna ripping the delicate fabric with ease, lining himself up with your entrance and slowly pushing into your core, eyes wide in a mix of pain and pleasure from adjusting to the sheer size of him.

Incubus!Sukuna teasing and mocking you because you’re just so tight and fucking perfect for him.

“Fuck princess S’fuckin wet, ya’ like that hm?”

Incubus!Sukuna setting a slow deep pace at first, hitting all the right spots, your lips forming an O shape lost in the pleasure as his hips slowly snap back and forth, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room.

Incubus!Sukuna holding back, fucking you deep and sensually at first-

But it’s so easy for him to lose control.

Incubus!Sukuna hooking both legs above his shoulders and toying with your sensitive clit, pounding you at an inhuman pace.

“Hah- made it so hard girl- how could I not fuck you the way you deserve?”

Incubus!Sukuna fucking you so rough, but so right, your sloppy cunt gushing around his cock, soaking the bedsheets beneath you.

Incubus!Sukuna keeping your shaky legs up, fucking you through your orgasm, crying and pleading for him to slow down.

“Shut up and take it princess, y’wanted this- hah- right?”

Incubus!Sukuna pounding your poor body into the mattress, tits bouncing up and down and legs strewn up in the air, almost going limp by how fucking deep he is. It’s not long before your squirting all over his cock, clear slick covering his lower abdomen and your inner thighs.

Incubus!Sukuna only being spurred on more by your sweet pussy’s reaction, fucking you even faster like a rabid animal, your sensitive cunt twitching and fluttering uncontrollably around him and tear streaked cheeks with a mouth begging for more.

“Let’s make her do that again, ‘Kay princess?”

Incubus!Sukuna’s hips snapping roughly over and over against yours, his tip hitting your g spot just right uncontrollably cumming again and again all over him, your body feeling like it’ll give out but he keeps going, he was know for his stamina, stupid girl should’ve known better?

“God you’re so fucking sensitive hah- so wet and pretty f’me.”

Incubus!Sukunas right index and middle finger mercilessly toying with your clit and his cock pumping you full of his seed causing another white hot orgasm to rip through your body. Cries and moans come from your pretty bruised lips, his own hungry ones claiming them over and over to muffle your moans.

Incubus!Sukuna fucking you full of his cum; waiting for you to come down from your high before pulling out and cleaning you up and drawing a nice bath for you <3

“She’s mine princess got that?”

[visenyaism]

Tiny if you do a cartwheel you can hear it rattle around your skull like a marble brain: Mance Rayder is literally Rhaegar Targaryen

Functionally literate mind: As a bard in red and black silk who takes a father figure role towards Jon, it’s clear that Mance is a parallel to Rhaegar Targaryen. His story about them being kin through Bael the Bard, a wildling who steals away a Stark daughter with his music and had a secret child with her whose obliviousness about his heritage was his undoing, is obvious foreshadowing.

Cutting-edge knife-shaped smart brain: while Mance does exist to foreshadow Jon being a Targaryen, the real significance of his character as a parallel to Jon is about self-actualization. He turns his cloak by making his own. Jusy like Jon, at the end of the day, despite taking oaths and despite everyone telling him who he is, he cannot be anyone but himself. He must go home. This might foreshadow Jon finding out he is a Targaryen, but also provides some pretty clear evidence that’s not going to be deterministic of who he is. He’s going to forge his own path, likely with the wildlings, likely becoming king beyond the wall, a role he already takes on implicitly in adwd.

Brain so huge your thematic understanding literally eclipses your ability to accurately and rationally predict the plot: Jon Snow being a Targaryen is a Bael the Bard reference and not the other way around.

[open-sketchbook]

okay fuckin' seriously here

the United States was not some exceptional stronghold of Nazi-Loving that suddenly switched teams over Pearl Harbour or whatever

The American Nazi movement was not large. It was a fringe movement of mostly recent German immigrants that got thoroughly embarrassed by antifascists. American racism (which, to be clear, was and is an enormous and mainstream political force) was largely ideologically incompatible with the Nazis; many dyed in the wool racists in the United States thought Hitler was nuts (in no small part because most of them were Anglo-Saxon supremacists still on the fence about German people being white).

Nazi Germany was not a well-liked state by pretty much anyone except, like, Austria. Not even the Italians really liked them, and they were allies. American media from the 1930s pretty consistently portrays the actual feelings most people had about Hitler and the Nazis; that they were warmongering maniacs and thank God there's an Atlantic in the way.

It always astonishes me that people lose their mind when they find out the Hindenberg had a big swastika on it and assume this means that Nazi Germany and the United States were super close allies right up until 1941. Like, the Soviets and United States weren't exactly friends during the Cold War, but Aerofloat planes with a big hammer and sickle on the side were landing every other day in JFK for decades flying the direct route from Moscow to New York.

President FDR's government fucking hated the Nazis; he was making preparations for war well before the actual declaration, and was material supporting Britain and the Soviets before the US joined formally. The Nazis were largely portrayed in American media as tyrants and bullies who exploited economic discontent to get people to sign away their rights and democracy, and while America could hardly be said to be friendly to Jewish people in the 1930s, what was happening in Germany was still not seen in a good light.

Another thing you need to understand is that the United States was not a monolith on racism inside the United States. Jim Crow was not a beloved institution for people who weren't white Southerners. Putting aside, you know, the minority populations of the US themselves, and the genuine anti-racist activists, it still wasn't exactly something people were proud of outside its strongholds. The 1920s and 1930s are pretty much the absolute height of mainstream popularity of scientific racism and the Confederate Lost Cause in the United States across the political spectrum... and the American laws that Nazi Germany tried to model theirs on were still seen by many Americans as a shameful and backward institution whose brutality was unbecoming of "civilized people".

You know that thing about the past being a foreign country? It's not a joke; when we look at the past, we have the same knee-jerk out-group response to reduce and compress the breath of experience and opinion into a singular narrative. This post is a prime example.

The reality is that the United States in 1936 had four and a half million Jewish people in it who weren't exactly fans of the Nazis. 2,800 Americans volunteered to fight against the fascists in Spain in the XV International Brigade. When war was declared, millions of Americans volunteered.

The main reluctance in the US to join the war wasn't that they loved the Nazis and wanted them to win, it was that the US was highly isolationist after joining the First World War, and the popular perception that they had only done so as a cash grab for the arms industry (the 1934 book Merchants of Death was quite influential and lead to the 1936 Nye Committee in Congress which resulted in a series of Neutrality acts). They didn't want to get involved in a war that they didn't see as affecting them. Which is why the US did join the war once it did affect them, what with Pearl Harbour getting attacked.

Now putting all that aside, Indiana Jones has a lot of reasons to fucking hate Nazis, even before we point out he's directed by Steven Spielberg; he's an academic and archaeologist, he's probably already lost acquaintances to the Nazis when they purged German academia of leftists and Jews, and he's watched German archaeology become mired in conspiracy theories about ice planets and ancient aryans. He's got plenty of reasons.

BUT EVEN BEYOND THAT, Indiana Jones is a throwback movie. George Lucas wanted to make a blockbuster version of a 1940s Republic movie serial, the episodic pulp adventure stories that would play chapter-by-chapter in theatres and were basically the Marvel movies of the day. Republic made action-packed stories, among which was one of the foundational touchstones for Indiana Jones' globetrotting, nazi-punching adventures.... SPY SMASHER!

>Watch trailer for Indiana Jones game >Think about how Indiana Jones really really hates nazis >Think about how Indiana Jones takes place in 1936 >Think about how America didn't join world war 2 until 1941 >Think about how nazi Germany got its ideas of racial hierarchy from the segregation in Jim Crow America >Think about how an upperclass white man in 1936 would actually be more likely to agree with nazi ideas, so there must be a specific reason why Indiana Jones hates nazis so much >Think about how Indiana Jones is a movie from 1981 >Think about how this was right after the Vietnam war, a war America lost real bad >Indiana Jones' anachronistic hatred of nazis is a form of WW2 nostalgia because Americans needed something to feel good about after losing real bad in Vietnam, and that was the only conflict in living history where Americans were the "good guys" >Think about how in current year, Indiana Jones hating nazis is positioned as "woke pandering"

[rae-writes]

Vibes

nsfw; femreader, cuckolding(?), hints at future poly!relationship, sharing is caring || "you have a crush on your boyfriend’s best friend, so naturally, you convince your man to let him secretly control your lush vibe" || 0.4k

Tomura really hoped this wasn’t a dream. He even pinched himself a few times to make sure, and he was pretty convinced with the sharp stinging left after. 

His calloused finger swiped over the phone screen, Dabi’s phone to be precise, as he played on the app that controlled your vibrator. 

You— Tomura's dream partner who he’s been in love with since high school and the only person he’s willing to jerk off in private to. 

“Here.” Dabi threw his phone in Tomura’s lap, leaning back on the other side of the couch and casually throwing an arm over his face. 

Tomura blinked. “What?” 

“Play with my girl for a while. ‘M tired. Think I need a nap.”

And that’s how he ended up here. Best day of his life. 

[New Message]: Faster 

God, each text you sent just made the tent in his sweatpants bigger. He followed each command you sent eagerly, wanting to be good to you, even if you didn’t know it was him. 

Or so he thought. 

You were laid back in your bed with your legs spread wide, humping the air as intense vibrations shocked through you. 

The crush you harbored for Tomura bloomed as soon as you met him and it was no secret to your boyfriend— who actually encouraged it.

Tomura’s shirt, one you had Dabi steal for you, was draped on your frame while the rest of you stayed bare. Your fingers had the shirt rucked up above your chest, toying with your nipples occasionally. 

[New Message]: Keep going, I’m gonna cum 

[New Message]: please make me cum 

His head was fucking spinning as he obliged, running his finger faster over the screen, wishing he could see you, wishing he could taste you, but most important, wishing he could have you.

He slowed his movements after he received a word-jumbled response from you, reluctantly getting ready to give Dabi’s phone back up—

—until you send another message with a video attached. 

He saw a clear view of your messy cunt through a body mirror, slick coating your inner thighs and fingers as he watches you run your fingers through the mess you made. 

You slowly pull your pink lush out with a ‘pop’, dangling it in front of the camera almost teasingly before sitting up. 

Tomura felt his cock jerk painfully when he saw you in his tshirt looking so fucked out. And he definitely almost came when you finally spoke:

“Made me feel s’good…you’re so good, Tomura…come 'n let me return the favor? Pretty please? I’ll even let you clean me up..or make a bigger mess out of me.” 

Oh…fuck yes.

[rooksspite]

The Invitation

Lucanis Dellamorte x f! De Riva! Rook

this is my first time actually posting something i’ve written for dragon age! i’ve loved the series for so long and decided to finally bite the bullet.

I wanted to write about Lucanis’ reaction to that crow armour you can get from the lords of fortune. let’s pretend that there aren’t other npc crows that wear it.

“C’mon! It’s blue, has feathers, and some flowy stuff. Doesn’t that check all the boxes for what you crows wear?”

Rook turns her head to look up at Taash with an unconvinced look, “we also prefer to have our vital organs covered Taash. You’re sure there isn’t a missing shirt?” she asks, turning back to the merchant of the Hall of Valour, who only raised his hands and shrugged.

“It’s rumoured to have been worn by a pretty well known crow before making its way into my collection.”

“Right.” Rook replies, unconvinced

“Perhaps the crow was so good at their job they felt they didn’t need to cover up. Isn’t a big part of the crow uniform making statement against enemies?” Neve pipes up, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Rook narrows her eyes at the woman before turning back to the armour before her. Neve wasn’t wrong about crow fashion, and the quality was really nice but it was just so… exposing.

“if I showed up in Treviso in this Viago would burst into laughter and then kick me out… again.” Rook mumbles.

Taash groans in impatience, they’d been standing here for the better part of twenty minutes as Rook looked at the merchant’s stuff, “come on Rook, we have a ring to fight in! just get it! Show off some skin for once.”

Rook blushes at that, everything she wore usually covered her up. Even her casual clothes she wore back at the lighthouse was the most she’s ever shown.

“Why don’t you try it on and see how it fairs in the ring? I’m sure Isabela would be more than happy to introduce you in your new outfit.” Neve offers

Room sighs, she didn’t know why but ever since she talked to Neve about her very limited knowledge on beauty and fashion and Neve and Taash have both been very insistent on her trying out new styles.

“Fine… We have plenty of gold anyways.”

She doesn’t notice the victorious smirks Neve and Taash share over her head.

———

“Lucanis.”

“Davrin.”

Silence rings through the library of the lighthouse as the two men greet each other. Both pretending to look at the various titles in the spines of books. Lucanis swirls the coffee in his cup and clears his throat before taking a sip.

Davin finally speaks, “So… You and Rook hey?”

Lucanis pulls his gaze away from the bookshelf, turning to Davrin with a raised eyebrow, “we have been over this no?”

Davrin shrugs leaning against another bookshelf, “just double checking, leave it up to both crows of the group to end up in a nest together.”

Lucanis chuckles, “we have not ‘nested’”

There’s a pause before Davrin continues, “You two haven’t really gone out alone have you? Outside of our work against the gods i mean.”

Lucanis blinks at the question and pauses to think, “well uh… no not really.”

“Why not?”

Lucanis sighs, it had been weeks since their near kiss before he cowered away, and while they continued to show clear attraction on both sides, it’s not as if there was an official label on their… relationship. Would it be too much to spend time alone? With no goal in mind?

“it’s complicated” He finally says stiffly.

Davrin chuckles, “I can see that,”

The familiar whoosh of the eluvian from below can be heard, “perfect timing,” Davrin hums.

The doors to the eluvian room creak open and the murmur of chatter can be heard as the three make their way up the stairs.

Neve surfaces first and a sly smile crosses her face when she makes eye contact with lucanis.

Well that can’t be good, he thinks to himself as he takes a sip of his coffee,

“Welcome back,” Davrin greets, “How was the ring?”

Neve shrugs, “Isabela’s out another 60 gold. We would’ve been back sooner if someone didn’t take their time shopping.”

Rook’s laughter can be heard as she climbs the staircase, “I didn’t take that long neve.” she says as she reaches the top of the staircase.

Lucanis chokes on his coffee.

“Sooo what do we think?” Taash says as they walk up behind Room. A large grin on their face. They put their hands on Rook’s shoulders and spin her around like a doll, ignoring her sounds of protest.

Davrin throws an amused look back at Lucanis, “What do we think Lucanis?” he turns his gaze back and crosses his arms, “I think you’re missing a shirt Rook.”

“According to the merchant I’m not.” Rook says with a sheepish chuckle. Suppressing the urge to cross her arms over her chest.

“Thing fits like a glove though, she fought in the arena with this armour on and left perfectly fine.” Neve says, nudging Rook with her elbow.

“Mierda, you fought in that?” Lucanis finally chokes out. Barely recovering from the initial shock of seeing the woman he was already extremely attracted to wearing… That.

“Like a badass.” Taash confirms, smirking at the sight of Lucanis’ face, “well Neve you had to show me that… thing right?”

Neve nods, the mischievous smile never leaving her face, “right of course. would you like to come with Davrin? For the thing?”

The elf smiles knowingly, “I’d love to.”

the three waste no time in leaving the library of the lighthouse, the door swinging shut behind them.

Rook chuckles nervously under Lucanis’ stare, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“It’s a bit much right? The merchant said a renowned crow once wore this armour but I think he just lost the shirt.”

Lucanis rakes his eyes up and down her body. Trying desperately not to focus on her chest.

But how could he when she was wearing a variety of necklaces that led his eyes even further down? For once he could see almost the entirety of the tattoo she had on her chest, who put that there? Who had the pleasure of seeing the full expanse of her soft skin before he could-

“Lucanis?”

Lucanis jumps as his train of thought is broken, he clears his throat as he tightens his grip on his coffee cup, “you look…”

“VERY NICE ROOK.”

There’s a pause as Spite’s voice rings through the library. Lucanis suddenly wishes that the device spinning above their heads would malfunction and he would be torn up by the fade.

Rook, in all her kindness laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “thank you Spite but I was asking Lucanis.”

Her eyes meet his again and he swallows. There’s a pause before he takes a deep breath, calming the shock in his mind.

“I think…” he started slowly, stalking his way up to Rook, “you look beautiful, though I would advise against leaving some of the most important parts of you… vulnerable.”

Rook doesn’t know if the dip in his voice is intentional but it makes her shiver nonetheless. Her eyes trained on the free hand that comes up to feel the plumage on her shoulders.

“T-that’s what I told Taash,”, she says with an awkward chuckle. Suddenly feeling very warm.

Rook breaks her gaze away from his hand and nearly gasps when she meets Lucanis’ eyes. Dark and intense, with a heat in them that was starting to become familiar to her.

Flustered, Rook breaks eye contact. laughing awkwardly as one of her hands comes up to fiddle with the chains in her neck. Lucanis tries to not make his stare so obvious.

“I-I should change, no need to be in armour here right?” Rook steps away awkwardly, not waiting for an answer. Nearly tripping as she quickly ascends the stairs towards her room.

It’s only when Lucanis hears the creak of a door opening and closing does he slouch and inhale shakily, his hand reaching towards a bookshelf to steady himself, “mierda.”

[thetadispatcher]

Dan's interactions with humans had taught him that it was best to deal with the ones that challenged him swiftly, making it very clear to them that antagonizing him wasn't a very wise idea. He didn't enjoy it, but it proved to be better in the long run as it made the human more likely to cooperate instead of being purposely stubborn. He just didn't expect to have to use it at home, but he had learned there was a first time for everything so he wasn't too surprised.

Strasky shifted his attention from his counterpart to get a better look at the room, some of the walls were decorated with photos he recognized of his family with a noticeably younger Peter and Dan. Every photo included Dan, most were ones that you wouldn't expect the family android to be in. It seemed they took Dan with them on vacation, had him join in with holiday celebrations, and even celebrated the PL600's birthday or more likely the day he was activated. He noticed a few casual ones of Dan playing a video game with Peter, his mother happily helping Dan cook, and his dad showing Dan how to fix a car. Only one had Vincent and Peter was missing, meaning his parents were likely introducing their new android to their son.

Now he understood why Dan had stuck around, not once had he been mistreated as it seemed many androids were, and he'd been family since day one. So it only made sense he wouldn't want to leave his family, and instead chose to continue his role around the home. As well as why Peter might want to make the android virtually indestructible as it was clear Dan meant a lot to him, and the thought of loosing him was probably too much to bear.

Strasky was startled out of his thoughts by the android he'd seen with Dan back in the park, only now his white uniform had a rather dark blue stain on one of the arm. He was able to get a look at the androids uniform that let him know he was an RK900 as he brushed past. The RK900 headed over to Brent, who helped him out of the jacket and dress shirt, revealing his damaged arm that Brent quickly got to work repairing.

Peter glanced at the RK900, giving him an acknowledging nod which the android returned before he focused back on them. "Well, it's nice to meet you." He paused as Strasky was shown to him, cocking his head as a look of visible confusion crossed his face. He glanced at Dan who gave him a nod, confirming what they had said. "Oh, that's....interesting...." He was still a bit unsure as was evident by the look on his face as he looked over Strasky, but he didn't ask any questions as he likely wasn't sure if he wanted to know fully what was going on yet.

Peter moved to stand behind Dan, resting his chin on top of the PL600's head. He grabbed something off the desk, handing it to Dan to look over as he rested his arms over the android's shoulders. "What work did you have in mind?" He asked as Dan handed the object back to him and he stood back up. He grabbed a few tools nearby as Dan deactivated his skin, allowing the white and grey plating underneath to be seen. "If it's custom work that will take a bit longer, as you probably expected." He said with a shrug before he removed a plate from the back of Dan's head.

He plugged in a nearby computer to Dan's brain then typed in a command that made Dan's spine go perfectly straight and lock in place. "And yes, I have gotten better at working on brains. You don't have to worry about anything like my first attempt. Though I thought I'd done pretty good considering a bullet went through it. He works okay, more like a human then an android, but he's okay with it." He seemed to think they'd met the android he was talking about, but it was clear from his words the android was likely very odd when it came to things one would expect an android to be able to accomplish without issue.

He carefully reached into Dan's head, obviously unplugging something as Dan's limbs went limp. Peter picked up the small object Dan had handed back to him, inserting it into his brain before reconnecting whatever he'd unplugged. He snapped the plating back into place then turned to the computer to let him have control of his spine back as Dan reactivated his skin.

Strasky moved aside as another android entered the room, it looked just like Dan except he was wearing more normal clothes instead of his uniform. The other PL600 approached Brent who handed him the RK900's stained uniform then quickly left the room. Strasky watched him leave, which Peter picked up on.

"That was Daniel, no he wasn't one of ours. I just fixed him up, and like every android here, he decided to stick around. Not that I mind, feels like it would be mean to start kicking them out as androids are having a hard time finding places to live currently. And it's even harder for them to find places they feel safe in." He explained, feeling he should probably do that as many wondered why there was an over abundance of androids on the property.

"Oh, and this one is Nines." He turned to motion to the RK900 who waved to them with his good arm. "The one running around that looks similar to him is Sixty, an RK800, he's the one that took the bullet to the brain." Nines looked a little annoyed at the mention of Sixty, but still stayed silent.

"So what kind of unit needs work?" He asked curiously as he went back to resting against Dan, clearly just to irritate the android as he smirked when Dan let out an annoyed huff.

The android Bishop chose to ignore Dan and gave Vincent only a slight nod. Truth be told, he didn't know why Bishop specifically had made him snap like that. It wasn't the first time a stranger got close to Vincent, after all. He just knew not to trust someone with his face.

He watched Bishop follow the others after fixing his tie, still not liking the idea of the man being around, but not enough to ask him who the hell he was.

"Charming place." Rook said, eyeing the cells.

"The previous owner was known for its questionable work." Willow explained, "He will hardly be missed."

Willow's disdainful tone was telling of what she thought of Zlatko. So, Rook decided to keep her rest of her comments to herself in favor of having a look at the man of the hour.

Or rather the boy. Age wasn't something Bishop usually concerned himself with. Still, being faced with the perspective of another, younger Strasky was already causing him to grind his teeth in anticipation of the nonsense they'd certainly have to deal with.

"Yep, that's Strasky all right." Rook said, taking a step forward, "Hi, I’m Rook and this is Willow. We're here because we need someone who's good with androids to do some work for us. But before we get to that, there's someone you should meet."

Bishop proceeded to grab the back of Strasky's uniform and moved him into view. "Meet yourself."