#how did you have time to see it and get mad so fast?!

[5sospenguinqueen]

Look Ma, I Made It | Liam Lawson x O'Ward! Reader

Summary: For years, you've been known as the younger sister of Indy driver, Pato O'Ward. Now you're going viral for a very different reason, all thanks to a small feature on F1 Wags.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, suggestive comment, being a liam lawson apologist 

Requested: yes by anon. i know you changed the fc to claudia cook gomez but i already had this planned and i couldn't find enough pics for her so i’m really sorry 

Faceclaim: Shira Klein 

F1 Masterlist

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yn_oward just posted

liked by kimi.antonelli, lilyzneimer and others 

yn_oward what do you mean this doofus got to drive an f1 car on our home turf??? he’s going to be unbearable after this 

22,590 comments 

patriciooward photographic evidence as to why i am the favourite child 

→ yn_oward “oo i can drive cars fast. i can pull off the colour orange” yeah, well, i can down a pitcher of mojitos in 6 seconds

→ elbaoward pride and joy of the family 

olliebearman only you could turn a post about your brother into a shameless selfie share

→ yn_oward but how hot am i 

→ olliebearman i fear there’s no safe way to answer this 

→ user1 every day ollie wonders why he chose to befriend y/n liked by olliebearman

liamlawson30 what do you mean you were in the paddock and didn’t come and say hello? 

→ user2 why would she?

→ user3 because they were friends growing up

→ yn_oward i couldn't get away from my fans (pato)

→ patriciooward nurse, she got out again 

liamlawson30 just posted

liked by logansargeant, patriciooward and others 

liamlawson30 mexican madness

67,048 comments 

user4 excuse me, mr lawson, sir. is that a woman?? 

yukitsunoda0511 that angle does me dirty. why do i look so small?

→ visacashapprb i think there’s something we need to tell you… 

user5 i’m confused. did anyone else know he was in a relationship?

user6 is this what gen z call a soft launch? 

yn_oward you’re strong enough to carry a woman? those noodle arms look like they’d snap 

→ liamlawson30 i’m going to pretend like that didn’t hurt my feelings

→ user7 this feels flirtatious to me 

→ user8 and pato liked this post?? 

olliebearman another victim of the ‘my legs are tired’ club,  i see 

→ user9 you know this woman?

→ user10 quick, someone make a list of potential people 

jackdoohan oh it’s finally happening 

→ user11 what do you know

→ user12 let us in 

yn_oward just posted

liked by jackdoohan, oscarpiastri and others 

yn_oward autumn dump 🍂🍁

26,993 comments 

patriciooward i have a reputation to maintain. take this down. i am a serious athlete 

→ arrowmclaren we’ve already passed this on to your trainer

user1 why is no one else commenting on the hoodie photo 

→ patriciooward because we are disgusted and trying to ignore it 

→ user2 i think it’s hot 

user3 so her brother only gets one pic, her bestie only gets one pic but her soft launch gets two!! 

→ user4 y/n’s man, reveal yourself! 

liamlawson30 it looks like you’re trying to smother that man 

→ yn_oward i can assure you, he enjoyed it

→ patriciooward ewwwww

olliebearman the pinata deserved it!

→ yn_oward if i remember correctly, you didn’t end up breaking it

→ olliebearman you’re next 🏌🏻

→ patriciooward get her ass

→ yn_oward why does your social media never get taken away from you. @/arrowmclaren do better 

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f1wags just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, patriciooward and others

f1wags breaking news! y/n o’ward was caught coming out of liam lawson’s garage during the mexican grand prix. the newest f1 driver was snapped pulling her back for a kiss goodbye 

19,009 comments 

user5 he pulled her???

user6 i think liam should release a manual on how to convince a girl wayyyy out of your league to date you 

user7 not charles liking this. he’s such a gossip girl 

→ user8 i bet he sent it to pierre

user9 so this is why they were soft launching around the same time

→ user10 i just thought it was coincidental 

→ user11 that’s because no one thought the cars maniac could pull y/n o’ward 

user12 pato liked this 😂

user13 why is everyone acting like liam lawson ain’t fine??

→ user14 what i’m saying! y/n o’ward is panty dropping but liam is hella fine as well

→ user15 i think if he had a different haircut, it would be over for the rest of the grid 

yn_oward hey look ma, i made it 

yn_oward and everyone thought pato was the famous sibling 

→ olliebearman this is your only reaction to this? 

patriciooward just posted

liked by landonorris, arrowmclaren and others 

patriciooward yes, they are disgustingly sweet together. i have suffered for the past 3 years so now you lot can too 

71,305 comments 

elbaoward i hope you had permission to post these, pato

→ patriciooward why? it’s not like they haven’t been caught already. everyone knows. she’s a pinned post on f1 wags 

→ yn_oward i’m a famous lady 

olliebearman these are the nice photos btw, guys. i have ones of them fighting each other

→ user1 we need to see these as well

→ yn_oward i am a lady. i am polite and docile

→ liamlawson30 baby, they’ve all seen photos that indicate otherwise

visacashapprb it’s nice to see pictures that don’t include y/n trying to climb liam like a tree 

→ patriciooward that is not a comment i want to see ever again 

yn_oward i knew you secretly liked us because these candids are so cute. wtf pato. i didn’t know you were capable of niceness 

→ patriciooward why have you misinterpreted the point of this point. i’m trying to embarras you 

→ yn_oward you love me, and my boyfriend 

→ liamlawson30 i’m really feeling the love bro. a whole post dedicated to us 

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Bonus

yn_oward just posted

liked by francolapinto, kellypiquet and others

yn_oward usually when your man gets a haircut without telling you, it ruins your sex drive. that was not the case today

22,994 comments

olliebearman i don’t think we should be friends if you’re going to continue this way 

→ jackdoohan i second that because bleurgh 

kimi.antonelli i miss when i couldn't read

→ yn_oward i didn’t know you were old enough to know how to 

patriciooward ew. ew. ew. ew. ew

→ patriciooward just ew

→ patriciooward blocked, deleted, removed

→ patriciooward i’m going to go and pluck out my own eyeballs

→ arrowmclaren no. you need them to race 

redbullracing we’re going to need to have a chat about pr 

→ yn_oward crap. @/liamlawson30 either you quit or we break up 

→ liamlawson30 nice try, babe. based on the way you threw yourself at me when i walked through the door, i don’t think you’ll let me go 

→ redbullracing we’re going to need to have a chat about pr 

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requests open

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25 @sillyfreakfanparty @justaf1girl @piastri-fvx

[shikaizer]

after having a heated argument with juju that led both of you in misunderstanding because your pride was too much, she decided to show how wrong you are by punishing you.

warning — slapping, agressive, SMUT

“didn’t you fucking hear!? im not!” you shouted at her glaring. juju kept her gaze at you brows furrowed. “im asking nicely, why the hell are you shouting?” juju frowned looking down at you and you rolled your eyes.

“because you keep asking me, i told you i didn’t sleep beside her, and if i did why do you care?” you spat and she raised her eyebrows scoffing.

“are you serious? you know how jealous i get when it comes to her!” you nodded sarcasticly biting your bottom lip. “and you know? im not even suppose to let you go to that fucking overnight.” juju added and you looked at the side somehow getting quiet, but you still wanted to push her.

“then you shouldn’t have, why are you using that as your ego?” you talked back and she smirked amused like you said something that will prove you wrong. “because you kept sulking at me throughout the day!” she shouted and pushed you by the shoulder and you gasped.

“bet she touched you last night” juju kept her dangerous stare at you scanning your face to see if what she said would trigger something in you, which she was quick to notice your reaction when you furrowed your eyebrows more lips apart.

“yeah? fucking knew it.” you scratched your head whining and she clicked her tounge shaking her head. “whats wrong with you! why do you keep falsely accusing me!” you shouted and she looked up sighing deeply.

“why are you getting so worked up? because its true right?” your lost at words, you rolled your eyes giving up, stomping your way to your bedroom, juju didn’t even try to stop you, just letting you stomp off.

but what you didn't know is shes already tailing you down, once your inside the room, she had yanked your hand towards her, then she pushed you down the bed roughly, it was so fast that you didn't have time to react.

"im talking to you am i not?" she asked looking down at you while you looked up at her frowning. "get out." your voice was low but it was enough to scare her, but she was also pissed.

she placed her hand on your jaw lightly grippin on them leaning down eyes never leaving yours. "your fucking forgetting whos in control here." she muttured and gritted your teeth. "i dont care."

she leaned back a little and scanned your whole face voice low. "you dont care?" she sat up and you stayed quiet. "once i get back here, i expect you to be naked." she commanded voice still firm. you didn't dare complain, you knew the tone she was giving and the way she was staring at you. your fucked at this moment.

she made her way to the walk in closet and you didn't waste your time on stripping all your clothes throwing them to the floor, you also removed your underwear afraid to make her more mad.

she came back with a strap in her hand and her in a sports bra, she kept her stare at you but you looked away.

"look at me" she walked over to you, then you turned your eyes to look at her, she gestured you to lie down tilting her head which you obeyed.

"why are you so fucking annoying huh?" she asked furrowing her brows and you shrugged, dumbahhh—

she slapped you across the face and she clenched her jaw. "im asking." she stated rasp in her voice.

"sorry ju—" you breathe out giving her those puppy eyes.

"nahh" she clicked her tounge shaking her head.

"you have been testing me." she fixed her position, getting on top of you, she placed your legs on either side of her hips. "i dont want to hear a fucking moan out your mouth, got it?"

"no ju you know i cant" you whined and juju gave you a shot glare that made you shut your self up.

"you know what happens if you disobey me." you slowly nodded and juju rolled her eyes, she buckled the belt on her hips, and then caressed the strap like it was her cock.

"gonna take this dick like the fucking brat you are." juju muttured while her focus was on her cock, but the words are surely directed at you.

"yes baby" you cooed and she scoffed looking at you. "dont go being sweet w'me now. you pushed all my buttons." you frowned and she started to rub your clit with the tip of her cock.

"im sorry" you whispered unsure if you should actually apologize, but you still spoke up anyway. "your sorry?" you nodded and she gave you a mocking smile.

"remember, no moans." juju repeated as a way to set aside your half assed apology.

she licked her bottom lip, focused on the way shes sliding inside you, she let out a breathy laugh returning her gaze at you.

"too bad, cant even moan huh? pathetic." she bashed you while your there gritting your teeth trying not to let out any sound.

she raised both her eyebrows and started to thrust deeply, you quickly arched your back cursing under you breath.

accidentally, you let out a moan that you have been trying to withstand, juju was quick to notice and she smacked your hips making you grunt.

"what did i fucking say?" she asked tone firm.

"why— why cant i fucking cum!" getting annoyed, you raised your voice at juju but she didn't react, oh you know this was much more worse than her getting mad right now.

she clenched her jaw and grasped your hips both hands, she lifted your hips up slightly and started pounding onto you relentlessly.

"o—oh fuck!" you mewled biting you bottom lip, eyes rolling behind your eyelids.

juju cursed under her breath and she starts to go faster, she pinched one of your tits and you moaned again, juju slapped your mouth and you whimpered.

"why do i always gotta repeat my self huh?" juju muttured and you sighed breathing out.

"please... gonna cum.." you called out and juju slowed down making you shot your stare at her, she slowly pulled out not even letting you reach your climax.

"what— why!?" you shouted and reached for your pussy to continue but juju quickly held your hands tightly. "behave." you scoffed and glared up at her. "thats not fucking fair!" you shouted again and she raised her eyebrows.

"oh yes you damn well do." she gave you an attitude and layed down beside you, securing you in her arms not caring at your whining.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST @janaelalfysloml @gabbyygoo @brenwritesss @addl0vee @sharksmom69 @bellaprintz25 @leiyanzyves @belsouza21 @apbueckers @loviingsunflower @luldejamleer @simpf0rriddle08 @paige05bby @scarrr5 @shootingstarrrrr @rosemariiaa @leslienjazzy @liviyy @weluvwbb @vicsstufff @taylynbueckers44 @yourmom-25s-blog @d7dream @paigesbasketball @sevikasleftbicep @azzisbueckers @bribadoobeee @tndaqlwifwy @dalilahissilly @bethsleftnip @fitecuddles @uwupaige @melpthatsme

[roxoxoxoxy]

Prompt 25 26 and 31 for antonnnnn

You cooked with this one anon, also this is so long and probably had more plot than you wanted, my bad 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Prompt game list

Made this kind of hurt/comfort? Sorta? Reader gives in super fast. Also have you guys seen that clip of Anton's dad talking about how Anton used to sing rewrite the stars in the shower? He's so cute.

Obligatory this will have typos and grammar is a loose concept here.

25- "Do you know what you do to me?" As they press kisses down your stomach.

26- "You're such a pervert.." You mumble, a shy smile curving your lips. "Only for you, mia cara," They mutter kissing your aching breasts.

31- They drop the towel from their waist and crawl onto the bed, caging you. "What are you going to do to me?" You ask, your fingers dancing a trail down his chest.

Minors dni

You consider slamming the door when you enter Antons apartment, making your anger known to him in a way he can't ignore but decide it's ultimately not the best idea. You instead settle on throwing your shoes aggressively on the floor as you change into your slippers, entering the living room to voice your upset at him.....only to see he's not there.

That only serves to piss you off more, he was a no-show on your anniversary date and he's not even at his own apartment? The thought of him ditching you to go hang out with someone else is about to give you a fucking aneurysm when you suddenly hear sounds coming from his bathroom. Getting closer to the door you can hear him singing 'rewrite the stars', if you weren't so mad at him you'd find this cute. Right now it's just annoying.

You take a deep breath, setting down the leftovers from the restaurant you were waiting at him for on the coffee table. You don't even want to call them left overs, you barely touched your food waiting for him to show you. It might as well be take out. You sit down on his couch, silently waiting for him to get out, stewing in your anger.

Anton being Anton he takes an unimaginable amount of time in the shower, by the time he comes out it's already been over thirty minutes and your anger as simmered down into a mix of sadness and exhaustion. The fancy dress you picked out to wear is starting to feel uncomfortable and the feeling of your jewelry against your skin is overstimulating you.

When he finally comes out of the shower he's wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he looks so good with his hair wet and muscles out that you consider forgiving him right then and there, thankfully your self-respect kicks in before you can really commit to that decision.

Anton looks surprised to see you, he's halfway through forming a smile when you see him connect the dots. The way you're dressed, the food on the table, what day it is. His face goes from joy to shock to guilt like he's a cartoon character, it almost makes you laugh.

"oh......shit." he says, voice sounding deflated.

"Yeah." You think about something actually clever and snappy to say back to him but come up with nothing. You're just so upset.

"I set an alarm." He blurts out, looking both awkward and confused at the same time.

"I'm sure you did." You say, sarcastically. The look he gives you almost makes you regret saying that. He looks guilty, with the eyes of a kicked puppy but when you remember what it was like watching the waiter come back to you and ask you over and over if you were ready to order. The staff looked at you with such pity that thinking about it is making you angry all over again.

"I'm sorry" he comes closer to you, reaching to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I'm so so sorry....what can I do to make it up to you? Please I'll do anything, I love you"

"Yeah I felt pretty loved today." You pull your hands away from his, folding your arms across your chest. Anton kneels Infront of you, his hands on your knee, looking up at you.

"Please don't be like that" Your resolve melts a little, you sigh looking down at him.

"Make it up to me then." Anton raises and eyebrow at the way you phrased that, trying to gauge whether or not you're implying what he thinks you're implying.

"You wanna have sex? Right now? I thought you were mad at me" His tone is teasing, a grin plastered across his face.

"Shut up. You're the one who's basically naked. If you keep teasing me I'll go back to being upset with you" Anton shuts up but he's still had that cocky smile on his face. He reaches to pick you up, princess carrying you to his room. You can't help but get a little flustered at his strength, he didn't even grunt when he picked you up.

He kisses you on the way to his room, giggling against your mouth as you fumble to open his bedroom door without breaking the kiss. After a tad bit more struggling you finally manage to open the door and he sets you down on the bed. He drops the towel from his waist and crawl onto the bed, caging you.

"What are you going to do to me?" You ask, your fingers dancing a trail down his toned chest, taking in his naked body with no shame. He's been working out more recently, he's on a calorie surplus to gain more muscle so his biceps look extra bite-able lately. He has that boyish smile on his face as he watches you admire him, a mix of cocky and bashful.

"Nothing you won't like." He whispers against the skin on your neck before nibbling on it. Your back arches slightly, giving him just enough room to slide his arm under you, pressing you as close against him as he can. He pulls back, pulling off your dress so fast you almost complain about him being too hasty. He cuts you off by slowly kissing down your body, leaving open mouthed desperate kisses down your collarbone.

"You're such a pervert.." You mumble, a shy smile curving your lips.

"Only for you, princess" He mutters, kissing your aching breast. He takes the nipple into his mouth, using his tongue to stimulate it, causing small tingles of please to crawl up your body. He uses his hand to squeeze the other breast, massaging it softly before he switches sides. You whine, unintentionally raising your hips.

"Anton...cmon..." You say, you're just short of begging him to keep going to where you need him most. pouting when he giggles at your words.

"Who's the pervert now? Why don't you tell me what you want me to do? Hm?" You roll your eyes, looking away from him.

"You're taking a lot of liberties for someone who missed our anniversary dinner" that seems to shut him up, he bites the inside of his cheek.

"Ah....I should probably save the teasing for another day" you're starting to worry you killed the mood when Anton leans back up to plant a sweet kiss on your mouth, making out with you for a bit until you're out of breath.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He asks, kissing back down your body. "You looked so good in that dress, I'm kicking myself over not being there to admire you at the restaurant. Wish I had time to soak all of you in"

He reaches your thighs, lowering his face to right above your knee, slowly starting to kiss up your inner thigh. His kisses get more messier the closer he gets to your cunt, making you squirm. He uses his hands to hold you down, you can feel him chuckle against you, his breath hot against your skin.

You can't help but think he looks pretty like this, his hair is wet and unstyled, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. You almost start to zone out looking at him when the feeling of lips pecking your clit snaps you out of it. You let out a involuntary whine, reaching down to tangle your hand in his hair as he begins to suck on your clit softly.

"Fuck- Anton that feels so good-" He moans in response, which only intensified the feeling. He moves down, his tongue finding your entrance and pushing in. He brings tongue fucking you, using his hands to hold you down when you start squirming again. He shifts his hands down so they're cupping your ass, lifting you off the bed slightly and pulling back his face.

"Grind against my face." His voice is thick and desperate, voice shaky from trying to catch his breath. "I know how much you like my nose."

You shut him up by pushing his face down again, doing as your told and grinding against him. His nose feels perfect, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit every time you grind on his face. You can't hold back your moans, if your mind wasn't clouded from pleasure you'd be embarrassed by how loud you're being.

"Anton I'm getting close"

He lets out a deliciously loud moan when you say that, the vibrations tipping you over the edge. You squeeze your thighs around his face as you cum, riding out your high by holding his face down. By the time you're done Anton's face is soaked in you. His lips are swollen and his hair is somehow even more of a mess. He licks his lips, not breaking eye contact when he sits up.

"Forgive me yet?" You're still catching your breath but you manage to sit up, reaching down to wrap your hand around Anton's hard cock. It's all red and needy from eating you out, the tip has a drop of precum oozing out of it. Anton can't hold back from hissing at the feeling of your hand, clearly pent up.

"No, i think you still have some making up to do"

This is way longer than I wanted it to be LMAO, any interaction is appreciated.

[81pastrys]

Grid Flirt

Part 8 / 13

Summary— The next race comes up and Horner refuses to let her qualify for the race

Warnings— Christian Horner. That’s the warning.

A/N— the next one is fun let me tell you.

Series List

After summer break we’re back in a paddock and I’m hesitant about the next race already. I look at charts and statistics from Maxs side. I can’t race for McLaren yet and not only am I mad about it, Horner is pissed.

Practices went alright. Not the best results, but to be fair I think Horner is still fucking with my car. Qualifying comes up and he tells me I’m not going on the track. “What are you talking about?”

“You aren’t qualifying, and you aren’t racing for my team again.”

“Surely you can’t do that?” I say looking to my manager.

“I can do what I want, it’s my car and it’s my team.” He shrugged. “You aren’t a part of it.”

“Really?” I ask. “Then why didn’t you get your reserve driver to replace me the rest of the season?”

“FIA wouldn’t let me.” He admitted. “So now I’m starting you back of the grid and powering you out of the race entirely.”

“Points out for you.” I scoff. “I’ve been top 10 this entire season so far.”

“I’m willing to take that sacrifice.”

“Fine then, fuck you.”

I walk to my dad’s pit and wish him luck and explain a bit of what happened. Then I head to McLarens pit and hang out there. “What are you doing here?” Brown asked smiling.

“Horner doesn’t want me qualifying, nor racing.” I say. “So I have nothing else to do.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re spending time with us!” He said. “How legal is it, what he’s doing?”

“No clue, my dad has never heard of anything like this either.” I shrug. “He’s out of points not me, I was for gaining points for constructors.”

“Well, we won’t do that to you.”

“I hope so.” I laugh. “No I think he’s just upset I called him off, and got another contract so fast.”

“We see your results and believe you’re worth working with so, he can shove off.”

I laugh and thank him watching qualifying, seeing my last name on the bottom with ‘no time’ Lando and Oscar qualify in top 5 and return the cars. They get out tired and exhausted. I congratulate them and walk to my dad’s pit again.

“Hello mi flor.” My dad said. “P8 for me and P12 for Stroll.” He smiled.

“I know!” I say. “You did good out there papi!”

“Thank you mi hija.” He said hugging me. “Go talk with Horner hm?”

“Yeah I guess.” I whine.

I walk to the RedBull pit and congratulate Max. “Why didn’t you qualify?” He asked, concerned and like a brother.

“Horner told me I couldn’t.” I shrug it off.

“So you’re starting at the back?” He asked.

“He doesn’t want me racing, I suppose he’ll let me go out for a few laps and then pull me in.”

“How are you so calm about all of this?” He asked fuming.

“I already gave him a piece of my mind a month ago Max, what else can I do?” I say, whining slightly.

“Fight for what you can?” He said. “If he isn’t putting a reserve out there, and you aren’t out there the points will plummet.”

“He understands and doesn’t care.” I say. “Maybe you can talk him into it, but no promises.”

Max scoffs and pulls Horner to the side. After about 15 minutes they emerge and Horner looks more mad than before. “I don’t want her winning more on my team Max, the answer is no!”

“Horner are you a fucking nut?” Max asked. He gained my attention. “The points will plummet, your team will go to shit!”

“Max, you’ll win the drivers championship, who gives a fuck if we lose the constructors?”

“You will, she’s always top 10 gaining you points.” Max said. “We still have 12 races, you need her scoring you points or you’ll be a laughing stock.”

“I’ll talk it over, but I don’t want her racing under my team.”

“That’s fucking childish.” Max said walking to me, grabbing my wrist and leading me to the back of the paddock. “He’s unreasonable.”

“Max, I don’t care to race.” I reassure him.

“Well then whats the point of you being a driver if you aren’t fucking driving?”

“If he’s doing this to ruin my career, it won’t work.” I say. “I can train harder, I can do the practice laps.”

“That’s not enough and you know it.” He said. “You just don’t want to accept it.”

He hugs me and I have no emotion anymore, if Horner wants to be a prick, then let him. Max is right, no matter how hard I train and how many practices I do, it isn’t really racing.

After a few hours Horner agrees to let me race. He just doesn’t want me winning. I can clearly leave that to Max. Doesn’t mean I won’t try.

Will she win? 👀

[randomasfuk]

One of those days

Jason x gn!reader

This is my first x reader that isn’t hasn’t been explicitly mentioned as female so I hope it’s ok.

It was just one of those days.

One of those days when you feel like curling up into a tiny ball and vanishing into the abyss, never to return. One of those days where everything—every little thing—stresses you out beyond reason. One of those days where no matter what you do, it feels wrong, like you’re somehow failing at simply existing.

One of those days where you feel utterly insignificant, worthless—like a burden in your own life. It’s not just a passing thought but a weight pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. Every action feels futile, every word out of your mouth seems misplaced, like you’re speaking into a void that doesn’t care to listen. The world moves around you, people go about their lives, and yet you feel like a ghost—unseen, unheard, unnecessary.

One those day ware you felt like could disappear, and would anyone even notice? Would anything change? The thought claws at you, relentless, whispering that you are replaceable, that your presence holds no real meaning. It’s the kind of feeling that sinks deep into your bones, numbing you, making even the simplest tasks feel overwhelming. Like trying to move through water with weights strapped to your ankles, like no matter how much effort you put in, you’ll never be enough.

Work had been brutal. By the end of it, you were drained, mentally and physically. All you wanted was to go home, crawl into bed, and snuggle into the familiar warmth of your boyfriend. Thankfully, he wasn’t on patrol tonight. Unluckily for you, though, he seemed indifferent to your touch. He didn’t push you away, but he didn’t lean into it either. It was as if he were merely tolerating it, indulging you rather than reciprocating. That wasn’t a great feeling. Physical affection was your main love language—cuddles, hand-holding, casual touches—all those small gestures were how you showed love, how you felt connected.

It was 23:30 by the time you finally stepped through the door, completely spent from working overtime. And there he was, lying in bed—right where you wanted him to be. You moved through your nightly routine as fast as you could, stripping out of your work clothes, slipping into your pajamas, washing your face, brushing your teeth—all of it just a means to an end. And then, at last, you crawled into bed beside him, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest as if trying to disappear into him.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmured, voice low and rough with sleep.

“Hey,” you whispered back, the word muffled against his broad chest. You sighed deeply, exhaling all the weight of the day into him.

“How was work?”

“Shit,” you muttered, repositioning slightly so you could talk better and see his face.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you admitted, glancing up at him.

As you snuggled into him—your desperation to see him had faded now that he was right here, next to you, yet he felt distant even as you clung to him. Normally, you wouldn’t mind. Jason wasn’t the kind of guy to keep things bottled up; if something was bothering him, he’d say it. So it wasn’t that he was mad at you, or upset. No, this was just… how he was. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe you didn’t love him in the way he needed to be loved. Touch clearly wasn’t his thing.

Maybe he responded better to gift-giving, but you were terrible at that. You never knew what to get—nothing ever felt quite right, never personal enough, never thoughtful enough. And even if you did have ideas, your current financial situation didn’t exactly allow for grand gestures. You had moved in together partly out of necessity—it made more sense to split costs than struggle alone—but that only added to the pressure.

Acts of service? Maybe. But your initiative was terrible. It wasn’t that you didn’t care—you cared too much. You wanted to do things for Jason, to make his life easier, but you weren’t good at picking up on unspoken needs. If someone asked you for something, you had no problem doing it. But the little things, the moments where love was supposed to be effortless, intuitive? Those always seemed to slip through your fingers. Most subtle hints flew right over your head, and Jason wasn’t the type ask for what he needed anyway. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Love isn’t about waiting to be told; it’s about noticing, about anticipating. And you weren’t good at that. You never had been.

Maybe words of affirmation would work, but even that wasn’t much easier. You struggled with putting feelings into words, always had. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel things deeply—you did, more than you could even handle sometimes. But when it came to expressing those feelings, your tongue twisted, your mind blanked, and whatever you managed to say always felt inadequate. You weren’t good at compliments—giving or receiving them. Every time you tried, it came out awkward, forced, rehearsed to the point of losing all meaning.

You had tried before, in a past relationship, and it never seemed to be enough. Either you missed something, or it wasn’t quite right, or it just ended up annoying them. That was the last thing you wanted to do to Jason. But what if you were already annoying him? What if, despite his patience, you were too much and yet not enough all at once?

That’s why you relied on touch. It was the only way you knew how to show him what you felt—the only way you could speak when words failed you. A hand on his arm, fingers curling around his own, resting your head against his shoulder, pressing your body close in the quiet of the night. That was how you said I love you. That was how you reassured him that you were there, that you weren’t going anywhere. But what if that wasn’t enough? What if, despite all your desperate attempts to show him love, he still felt unloved?

The thought twisted in your gut. Maybe you weren’t enough. Maybe you weren’t capable of loving him the right way. Maybe you weren’t compatible and it was driving you crazy because you loved Jason and you didn’t know how to show it in a way that would please him.

But then again… maybe you were just overthinking it.

Jason wasn’t cold, not really. He had his own way of showing affection. He would squeeze your hand for a split second when you reached for his. When you leaned into him, his arm would find its way around your shoulders, not quite pulling you in but resting there nonetheless. He never traced patterns on your skin or played with your hair, but his touch would linger longer than necessary. And his jacket? He’d drape it over your shoulders without you ever having to say you were cold, his hands pressing lightly on your arms before pulling away.

You knew Jason. You knew the subtle, non-verbal cues he used to express himself. But even knowing that, the fear of annoying him burned in your mind. Your chest felt tight, and you bit your lip as you turned over, facing away from him. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to be clingy. But the tears welled up anyway, slipping silently down your face.

Unbeknownst to you, Jason noticed.

He noticed the way your body had tensed against his, how your grip had been just a little too tight, how the way you looked at him tonight was different. And he noticed the exact moment your arms loosened, when you lifted your head away, leaving an unpleasant chill in their absence. He noticed everything. He wasn’t sure if he should press the issue. You had said you didn’t want to talk. But then—

A sniffle. Quiet, barely audible the average person wouldn’t have noticed.

But Jason wasn’t the average person. He caught it immediately.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice was softer now, careful.

“Nothing. Just a bad day at work,” you murmured, swallowing the lump in your throat. Attempting to sound normal.

But he knew better. He knew you.

“You sure?” A pause. “You always wanna cuddle me when work’s been shitty.”

Your breath hitched slightly. You hated this. Hated how transparent you were to him. Hated that you had let it get to this point. Hated this feeling and You didn’t want to annoy him further by inconveniencing him with your stupidity.

“Yeah, m’good. I just… I know you’re not a fan of cuddling, and I don’t wanna annoy ya.” You tried to sound casual, but the words cracked at the edges, betraying you.

Jason froze. Not a fan of cuddling?

He loved it.

He loved when you played with his hair, when you held his hand, when you wrapped yourself around him like he was your anchor. He loved when you came home after a long day and buried yourself in him. He loved feeling needed, loved feeling like he could give you comfort. But upon reflection he had never said that out loud, had he? He had never really shown it.

Because love scared him.

For so long, Jason had pushed love away, convinced that it wasn’t something he deserved. The scars from betrayal and loss had built walls around his heart, walls so high that he couldn’t see over them, even when you came into his life. He didn’t believe he deserved you—he was too broken, too damaged. But with you, something changed. Something he couldn’t control. He fell for you faster than he expected, faster than he was comfortable with. It blindsided him, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t know how to push you away the way he had with others.

Before he knew it he has agreed to move in with you due to financial issues he didn’t even have. It wasn’t something he’d consciously thought through, but there was a pull, an undeniable need to stay close to you. He hadn’t expected to get so attached, but here he was, afraid of getting too close while desperately wanting to hold on. The truth was, he wasn’t sure how to balance it. He had never been taught how to give and receive affection in a healthy way.

He didn’t mean to keep his distance, didn’t mean to be less affectionate than you needed him to be. It wasn’t like he didn’t care. He cared deeply, maybe too much, but he had built up so many defenses over the years that he didn’t even realize he was putting up barriers with you. He wasn’t intentionally distant, but every time you reached out for him, every time you wanted something more from him, he would retreat just enough—without realizing it—because that’s what he had always done to protect himself. That’s how he survived. It was like a reflex, like something ingrained in him over time. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but he kept pulling back, thinking he was giving you space.

Jason’s mind had convinced him that if he showed too much, if he let you in too much, you’d leave. So, in his attempts to keep things balanced, he found himself unintentionally shutting you out in small, quiet ways. Maybe he didn’t kiss you enough, or maybe he didn’t offer the comfort you were craving. Maybe he didn’t hold you the way you needed when you were upset. But the thing was, he didn’t notice. Not at first. He thought he was doing fine—he thought he was being considerate, not overwhelming you, not smothering you. But now, he began to realise that something wasn’t right. He had been so wrapped up in his fear of losing you that he had been unintentionally pushing you away, thinking he was protecting you, thinking he was doing the right thing by keeping a little distance

“Look at me,” he said softly.

You hesitated.

“Baby, please.” His hand grazed your hip.

Reluctantly, you turned, and when he saw your tear-streaked face, his expression softened immediately. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you in, holding you tight. It was like a wave crashing over him seeing the look in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he whispered, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other firm around your waist. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You clung to him, breathing him in, letting yourself relax into the warmth you had craved.

“You, your love, your touch—none of it could ever annoy me,” he murmured. “I love it. I love you.”

The weight in your chest eased slightly.

“Why didn’t you ever…” You couldn’t think of the right word—reciprocate? He did, occasionally. When you lay on him on the couch, he would sometimes wrap his arm around you, pulling you closer. And when you held hands, you always initiated, but he never let go, no matter where you were or what you were doing.

You sniffed slightly. “Why didn’t you ever seem to care?”

You still weren’t thrilled with the way you had worded it, but it was out there now. He squeezed you tightly for a moment, holding you close, periodically mumbling apologies and soft “I love you’s” into your hair. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Jason didn’t answer when you asked why he had seemed so indifferent before, but you didn’t press him. For now, you just let yourself drown in his warmth, in the safety of his arms.

Sleep came easily after that, allowing yourself to bask in his warm embrace.

You awoke still in his arms, his deep, steady breathing telling you he was still asleep. You peeked up at his sleeping frame, remaining in his grasp for a moment before returning to your original position, his heartbeat a steady, soothing rhythm against you.

He stirred about fifteen minutes later.

“Mornin’, love,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you responded, looking up at him, slightly nervous about the possibility of a serious conversation.

“Breakfast?” you asked, offering a small smile.

He nodded, though his eyes seemed to mirror your nervousness tenfold, like he had something difficult to say. The tension in the air made your stomach churn, but you pushed yourself up, feeling the cold nip at your skin. Despite your nerves, you knew better than to pry—he would tell you when he was ready.

You had just got up and turned heading for the kitchen when he grabbed your wrist.

“I was scared… am scared, a bit,” he admitted.

“What?” You turned back to him, not quite sure what he meant.

“Last night, you asked why I didn’t seem to care. I do care—a hell of a lot. And that scares me a bit,” he clarified.

You hadn’t expected such vulnerability from him. He had never been like this before—typically, he seemed indifferent, even cold at times. But you knew better. Still, seeing the raw emotion painted across his face sent shivers down your spine.

You sat back down on the bed, facing him as he avoided your gaze.

“Do you mind if I ask why?” you questioned. You weren’t quite sure what to say or do in a moment like this. This was only your second proper relationship, so you weren’t sure how to respond, how to reassure him, or even what he needed to be reassured of.

“I—” He paused, searching for the right words. You knew how difficult that could be, especially in moments like this, so you waited patiently.

“Caring about people hasn’t exactly worked out well for me in the past,” he admitted. “I’m just kind of worried about shit hitting the fan… again. So I guess I kept a distance between us. And to be honest… I didn’t even realize I was doing it until last night.”

You weren’t sure what to say, but you spoke anyway.

“Jason, I’m here now. With you. And I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens—whatever shit the world throws at us—we’re in it together. I love you and I don’t plan on leaving, I’m not an easy person to scare off anyway.”

And it was true. You knew who he was—Red Hood. You knew what he had done. And if your boyfriend being a murderous vigilante known for his violence didn’t scare you off, what would?

He finally met your eyes, a weak smile tugging at his lips. You leaned forward, intending to press a kiss to his forehead, but to your surprise, he pulled you down into a tight hug instead. Without hesitation, you hugged him back, letting him hold you in silence.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that—until his stomach grumbled, breaking the moment.

“So… what was that about breakfast?” he asked.

You chuckled, finally pulling away and getting up to make what would now be brunch for both of you.

[storkmuffin]

Have you ever watched any of Ateez’s old dance content? Like KQ fellaz era ish?

Just cuz you talk abt watching their dance styles and I like to watch the dances when they weren’t singing to see Jongho dance without him having to worry about having enough breath support for his high notes

Uh. I just watched this, and then I watched it a second time, and ... which one is Jongho? So, after two views, my impression: Wow they were really all very skinny. Also they are in a literal actual parking lot. Isn't this bad for their joints or does that not matter if they're all 19?

And now, liveblogging, on watch 3.

Wearing all black with a baseball cap is actually a very effective disguise, because I CANNOT TELL who the hell is who. At all. I'm an actual Asian person making an All Asians Look Same statement on the internet on a site with mostly western people. Help.

Is this San? I think it's San. Oh he's making huge facial expressions. Hi San. I recognize you by how big your mouth is, which is the thing I noticed about you on Kingdom. Oh there's Yeosang behind him to the right. Yeosang has the roundest face.

Who the hell is this that just came to the front at 0:17?? BOY WHY DON'T I KNOW YOU. He moved to the back back - COME BACK I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE -

Oh hi Yunho. Why did you smile like a serial killer?

She. likes. to suck. on my cock. Is that was the rapper actually said? And they're all grinning. Is this the first English lesson they got from KQ?

They're all in a line and the camera is moving back and forth AND I CAN'T TELL WHO ANYONE IS?!? This can not be happening to me. Should I forfeit my concert tickets to someone else who can at least tell who is who? I feel very disqualified.

0:37 HI MINGI THANK YOU BLESS YOU FOR FINDING YOUR LIGHT OMG I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY TO SEE YOUR FACE, LIKE EVER.

Oh ok there's Hongjoong and Wooyoung is flicking his face, and Hong Joong is defenseless. (So they knew even from day 1 lol).

Skippety hoppity. They are all very light on their feet.

Mingi is so fluid and graceful. His dancing is pretty. I didn't realize that before. He doesn't seem big here. Just beautiful body proportions, pretty movements, elegant interpretation of the choreo. He moves like this is easy, and like the steps are just occurring to him as he dances them.

Yunho (this is Yunho right?) comes sidling in. They're almost the exact same size and look very similar in physique here, Mingi and Yunho, but the dancing is different! Yunho uses his height - he's so long and his hands are so big and his extensions go on FOREVER and he's so FAST... He moves with intentionality, to show you the choreo!

Oh and he just did his serial killer smile again and did a little wave. And now they're all gone.

OMG THAT'S JONGHO. IN THE CENTER. That's the one I didn't recognize from Video 1! THAT WAS JONGHO. Woah. Neck isolation charisma.

And there's San. His dance persona was already present then - kill it in the motions, then makes faces like he has no idea the impact he's having.

I wish Korean girlgroup songs could be like this, but HAHA who am I kidding.

Jongho - I literally don't know you at all whatsoever. Why don't they let him dance? He is criminally underserved. I am mad at KQ. GIVE ME DANCING JONGHO.

Where is Seonghwa? And why is Wooyoung invisible to me? What is happening?

It's ONLY A MINUTE? DO the whole song!!

OH hey they moved out of the parking lot! Moving (literally) up in the world. This looks like an actual stage and like maybe there's some give to the floor.

San in the center again.

Why are they dressed like this? This is very Oompa Loompas x Clockwork Orange.

Is that Jongho or Yunho? I had problems telling the two apart at first and now I'm back to square one.

Hi! Mingi in center again! Can't get over the fact that his dance style keeps looking so pretty to me. It's literally... pretty. He also seems to be controlling his face a bit better than the others, in terms of knowing what will look nicer on camera, which is (simply) to not do too much with his mouth.

....

I am shooketh. I see why Mingi has such a powerful fanbase abroad - he's the star in these. I have to go reflect.

Thank you for this ask @jess-the-mess2513. I am so fucked up now.

[poisonsage808]

streak of bad luck

John Munch x Reader

He always got what he wanted and, to your sudden change of luck, it seemed he very much wanted you.

warnings: black cat reader, you’re so unlucky (sorry babes) past abusive relationship, lingering trauma, hurt/comfort, reader gets mugged, munch crashout, happy ending always

"A trial run?" You echoed.

"Yeah, y'know, that test people do to see if-"

"I know what a trial run is, John, I just..." know I'll fuck it up; know you'll hate it; know you'll hate me after. You swallow the doubt that creeps into your voice, wringing your fingers until he takes them and holds them to his chest. He always knows how to soothe you.

"Finish your thought, honey." He prompts softly, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm worried. I don't want you to get sick of me."

John laughs lightly, not trying to be cruel but you want to shrink away from the sound all the same. His arms come to collect you, keep you together and by his side. He kisses the top of your head hard, like he wants the affection to take root in your brain.

"That won't happen, baby, trust me. With my track record, you’ll be the one running for the hills.”

You gasp at his awful joke, especially knowing there’s truth to it, brows pulling together in unfathomable horror, “I would not!”

And that pleases him to hear, he kisses your cheek so sweetly you’ll have to go to the dentist for the toothache he singlehandedly caused.

“Then there’s no reason not to try, is there?”

Lips part but no argument follows, you’re genuinely stumped on a defense. Everything you might want to suggest suddenly crumbles on your tongue and instead tastes like a shared kitchen and minty sweet kisses goodnight. Besides, you know every reason you could throw at him would be batted away like he was a World Series champion. He always got what he wanted and, to your continuous change of luck with him, it seemed he very much wanted you.

You gnawed the inside of your cheek, hesitating for a moment longer, “You promise you’ll let me know if it’s not working for you?”

“Promise,” John holds his hand up like a boy scout yet keeping that air of sincerity to him, “I’ll always be honest with you.”

That was months ago. You lost track of how many on account of the fact you were keeping tally of the great number of fuck ups and inconveniences instead. Like washing a shirt that was supposed to go to the dry cleaners, like closing the door on his tie, like stepping on his expensive shoes— how could you be so clumsy with his attire, they’re only the most important things to him! Dumbly burning your hand and letting his coffee pot shatter on the ground, sending him into a brief panic. Ruining dinner because the recipe called for four teaspoons of spice and not tablespoons, practically inedible even for his tolerance. Making him late for work because you couldn’t find your keys and later realizing they were in your pocket the whole time, even though you swore you checked no less than fifty times. Forgetting to do stupid things like turning off the lights, cleaning one spot, the damn grocery list.

The worst was when you locked yourself out of the flat with the stove on. Your day was horrible and your brain was fried and you still aren’t quite clear on how it happened but with your never ending bad luck you aren’t shocked! He thinks it’s funny now but when he got a call it looked like someone was breaking into his apartment, he was scared out of his mind. It was the one time he hoped, prayed, you weren’t there. Throwing his car into park, crooked and half on the sidewalk, John ran over to where the officers stood next to you. They explained what you did, how you’d locked yourself out but your name wasn’t on the lease so they didn’t believe you. It was reasonable, wasn’t it?

His face switched comically fast when he saw the handcuffs around your wrists.

He sent you inside to spare you but you could hear through the door. He was loud when he was mad, his quick witted snarky profanities had nothing on the infinity train of insults he rammed into those uniforms. Shocked wasn’t strong enough, you were nearly fully convinced he was lying— at the very least embellishing as he’s prone to do— when he admitted he had a bit of a temper issue. Your heartbeat was louder still in your ears, a warning drum. You didn’t mean to flinch when John joined you inside, you didn’t mean to cry, you didn’t mean to back away, you didn’t mean for the apologies to fly out of your mouth the way they did. He looked pained when you held your arm out as if it could keep him from coming closer. Of course it did, because how could you not know he would always listen.

Every time you expect his wrath, prepared to receive it in any way it would come, he reaches for your shoulders so carefully that you wonder if you had the power to slow time. “Sweetheart,” he says in that tone you love and hate, the one that can’t forgive you because what could be there to forgive, so soft it makes you want to cry, “it was an accident.” And after eleven months exactly— oh look, you do remember— you think you’d get used to it, eventually it would sink in that John Munch is never going to hurt you in any conceivable way.

“What are you thinkin’ over there?”

You blink at yourself in the mirror, then at John leaning in the doorway. Ready and dressed for work, hair slicked back meticulously and suit pressed to perfection, he was devastatingly handsome. Maybe it was just the lost look in your eyes that made you feel less put together today, but he looked at you like he always did. Radiant. When your confidence was lacking, he lent you some of his because lord knows he has more than enough to spare.

“Did you know it’s been eleven months?” You ask, turning around to match his ease and lean on the counter, “Since we, well, y’know, not technically moved in together.”

Because you hadn’t, not really. A good portion of your stuff was here but you still went back to your apartment… once in a blue moon. In your absence you think a spider might’ve moved in.

John knew how to boil a frog. He put up with you living out of a suitcase for a week, if that, then put your clothes away in his dresser. He noted, not unkindly, that you were doing laundry frequently, maybe you should bring over more clothes. When work got busy and he ended up coming home later, he casually suggested moving over your hobbies so you wouldn’t be bored waiting for him. Did you know he really liked that painting you had in your apartment? So much so that he made a space for you to hang it up in his. He surprised you by stocking the fridge and pantry with things you, and only you, liked.

And he smiles, really smiles, because he absolutely did know that and isn’t it just so perfect that you brought it up!

“Not that I believe in cosmic signs but I do think that might be the universe trying to tell you somethin’, sweetheart. Quit wasting money on that place, you’re over here all the time now.”

“Not all the time,” you mumbled, averting your eyes as if looking for the last time you even thought about going there. ‘There’ and not ‘home’ because his place transformed into a shared one somewhere between all those disasters.

His careful steps closer are not unlike the ones he takes when he thinks you’re going to crack if he so much as looks at you wrong.

“Admit it,” he cages you against the counter, kissing the crown of your head, “trail run’s over. Time to move in. I can get off early today,” a kiss to your temple, “we’ll pack the rest of your stuff and drop off the notice,” your nose, “go out to celebrate?”

John always gave you space to say no, always made sure you knew he wouldn’t be mad if you did. However it was more of a question than he was willing to admit, you almost forgot that in his alluring cloud of confidence. His tone bled with hope because it’s not the first time he’s suggested it.

“I—” You huff, try to breathe air and not the infectious hope. Being pragmatic was proving to be a struggle, “I want to.”

He’s painfully patient, running a hand up and down your arm, “But?”

You swallow, “No buts… I want to. Let’s move in together.”

You thought it was just an expression, but his eyes sparkle at your agreement. Someone else might think he’d won the jackpot with the way he was beaming.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! I mean, if you’re sure.”

You’re ass on the counter before you can blink. His mouth is on yours, sending a jolt of energy up your spine and it’s not from the taste of coffee! He’s sure, he’s so sure and he wants to show you how damn sure he is. You’re so dizzied by the passionate kiss that you forget what you even agreed to. John gets a little carried away, excitedly murmuring things he absolutely should not be before you both have to work.

“Baby!” You squeak as he pops the button on your pants, “We have to leave in—“ you take his watch off the counter and point the proof at him, “15 minutes!”

Humming, he nods feverishly like he really and truly understands. Behind his glasses, his eyes work overtime to find a solution for the massively inconvenient problem you reminded him about. He figures it out because he always does when he really wants something.

“Do me a favor, honey,” he winds the belt of said watch around your wrist and fastens it securely, kissing your palm, shoulder, ear, “tell me when it gets to 10.”

~

It all happened so fast. He hates that, he’s sick of hearing that expression. They’re cliches because they’re true, though. One minute you’re walking— no, floating— to the police department, more than ready to take that next step with your boyfriend. Butterflies tickle your insides with their pretty wings every time you think about it, making you involuntarily smile.

That must’ve been it.

You must’ve been looked too happy, too pleased with everything. Higher powers were surely warring over your good fortune, one of them isn’t on the same page as the rest because you’re supposed to be horribly, miserably unlucky in all departments. John wasn’t meant for you and, really, you should’ve known. His affections were marvelous and magical and easy. God, it was so easy to fall in love with him. Nothing was easy for you, you always had to learn the hard way.

“Gimme your wallet and you can walk away.”

Something you don’t see, can’t register, rests between your shoulder blades. Even through your clothes it’s cold and sends a shiver out to the rest of your body, effectively freezing you.

“I said gimme your wallet.”

Wordlessly, you fumble for it. You make the incredibly fucking stupid mistake of handing it to your mugger and not throwing it far like John told you to.

“The watch, too.”

In your fear induced rush of adrenaline you didn’t understand, the words hit your ear but didn’t compute. You don’t wear a watch, you don’t have one to give him. Then the weight of it around your wrist is so heavy your arm wants to pop out of its socket and fall off entirely. The watch— his watch.

“No.” The word dumbly crashes off your tongue, practically a question.

The weapon, whatever it was, was made quick and painful jab to the side of your head, the connection spinning both you and your head. You stumbled against the side of a brick wall, keeping your eyes downcast because that’s what you used to do to when you were hit.

“I ain’t asking, gimme the damn watch.”

Unconsciously, your hand wrapped over it as if to hide what you both knew already existed.

It wasn’t yours to give, you shouldn’t even be wearing it! What if you had cracked it or wo— well, actually, this would qualify as a worst case scenario, wouldn’t it? You risked a glance at the ground by your assailant. Cargo pants licked against bright red sneakers, information you could trade later to redeem yourself. Only, you had to be alive to do that.

Horribly ashamed and teary eyed, you unbuckle the leather.

~

You swallow hard on the lump in your throat but it won’t go away. It just sits there, undecided, waiting to choke you or send you into tears. John didn’t get off work for another five minutes and you, in your hilariously foolish streak, thought that you could quietly reporting the mugging.

In the precinct your boyfriend worked at, around people that recognized you immediately, to someone that knew him by name.

The officer took his darn time going over the questions with you, looking for a pen for you to fill out your contact information when John bursted in. His wild eyes searched until they found you, then he was over in two sweeps of his long legs. You hated that your impulse was to back away, you had to force yourself to be impossibly still as his hand leapt forward, but he caught that tiny jump.

His hand curled into a fist and fell just before he touched you.

“You’re bleeding— Why are you bleeding? What happened?”

Brown eyes, usually so soft and comforting, were murderously locked on the side of your head. You went to cover the wound that offended him, the aching bump on your temple but the light touch might as well have been a full press. You hissed and pulled away. Flakes of dried blood dusted your fingers. You didn’t even notice.

“Can—“ you inhaled sharply, eyes darting all around at the people who were starting to stare, “Can we not talk here?”

Sending a pointed glare all around, John didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Still, he mumbled “we done here?” to the officer who nodded even though you hadn’t filled out the form. Without touching he put his arm around you and angled himself as a shield, ushering you out of the building.

You had practiced everything you were going to say on the rest of that shameful walk to the precinct. You’d explain, apologize, offer to replace the watch, and then maybe he wouldn’t be so upset! Out the corner of your eye he seethed like a quiet moment before thunder boomed and lightning struck. And you forgot everything.

He barely made it halfway through the parking lot before he turned around, kicking a tire of a car. His hands threaded his hair like he was grasping for a shred of composure even though he’d already lost it. To you, he gestures up and down with a hardened expression that makes you feel smaller than ever.

“What happened!? I had to hear from Lewis that you walked into the station with a bruise? Why didn’t you come straight to me!?”

Ever since the incident, he always tried to protect you from his temper. He’d go on walks, presumably to hit something outside, or to the bar to yell at someone there. He doesn’t bring his rage through the front door. John never so much as raised his voice at you until now.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Don’t be—!?” He cuts himself off with a curt breath, shaking his head, “You can’t ask me that, you just can’t! Look at you! What the hell happened!?”

You blink, searching the ground trying to find air but there’s none.

“I lost your watch.”

“What?”

You wince at his incredulous tone, crossing your arms to protect yourself from his ire.

“I got mugged. I didn’t throw my wallet like you said to an-and the watch, your watch, he asked for it and I said no. But then he hit me and I didn’t have a choice!”

He clenched his jaw so tight you swore any second that you’d hear a crack of a tooth. His eyes were dark, yet ablaze like a wild forest fire.

“You—“ He scoffed, smiling sardonically at the sky. Sliding his hands under his glasses, he dragged them down as he sighed heavily, like he was trying to come back down to Earth, “My watch? Why? Why would you do something so incredibly reckless!?”

Tears sting at your eyes again but this time you can’t keep them at bay, they flood and pour over. You dig your nails into your skin.

“I just.. I didn’t know what else to.. I’m sorry, I’ll pay you ba—“

He crosses what little distance there is too fast, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

You’re enveloped in a crushing embrace. John presses you to his chest like he wants you to move in, you can hear his rapid heartbeat right under your ear.

“Baby, I don’t give a fuck about the damn watch! I care that you’re hurt! You were mugged, and you didn’t wanna tell me that first!? Jesus Christ. Never scare me like that again, I don’t ever wanna hear from someone else that you got hurt— y’know what, better yet, I don’t want to hear you got hurt at all.”

You feel awful all over. Of course he didn’t care about the watch. Of course the only way he could ever hurt you was by holding on too tight.

“You’re… not mad?”

“Not at you.” He breathes, pulling away slightly to look down at you. “Honey, if you don’t know by now how much you mean to me then I’m doing something very wrong here. You’re the one thing I could never replace.”

He cradles your face with a gentleness that fills you with guilt, how could you ever think he would hurt you? That fire in his eyes was fueled by fear the whole time, you didn’t notice it because of your own. John ghosts his thumb around the bump at your temple and you feel every little movement before it even happens.

“Are you hurt anywhere else? Should we go to the hospital?” He shook his head right after the question left his lips, deciding himself, “Yeah, we should. Car, where’s my car.”

He’s looking everywhere but at you as you flounder for words, still attempting to catch up to him. You dig your heels into the gravel as he starts to guide you forward.

This was too easy. He was being too nice, too understanding. He forgave you too easily. He deserved better than a black cat that just happened to cross his path and follow him home.

“John—“

“Don’t argue with me on this, ok? Not now, not ever. You are the single most important thing in my life and you’re…” he sucks in a sharp breath, catching his voice and temper rising again.

His eyes flicker to the side and back but you know where they went. You shift in his grasp, wrapping your arms around him this time. His hands don’t know where to settle for a change, struggling to find a hold that will give him the closest proximity to you.

“Finish your thought.” You say softly.

A weak, proud chuckle leaves him. He’s been working tirelessly to help you unlearn the abuse you went through. It’s always worth it he says, but moments like this are unbelievably special. To both of you.

John’s arms squeeze carefully and he breathes you in like you’re oxygen.

“You’re hurt. Baby,” the fond moniker is so heartbreakingly soft, “you don’t know how badly I never wanted to see you with another bruise.”

“I’m,” you swallow the instinctive apology even though it’s true, you are sorry, “I’m hurt, yes, but.. you’re making it better. Can we just go home?”

The word slipped out before you could snatch it back, making both of you go still.

“Home?” He echoes quietly, thoughtfully, hopefully. Pulling away, just enough to look into your eyes, “You still wanna move in?”

You almost succumb to your doubts, but you persevere and manage a slightly teasing, “I should be asking you that.”

“No,” its immediate and makes your heart swell, “you shouldn’t.”

He leans in slowly, tipping your chin up so he can capture your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. The gesture washes away any lingering worries, replacing them with that delightful buzz you had earlier. John rests his forehead against yours, his smile is infectious.

“We can go home after I make sure you’re not concussed.” He promises.

Knowing your luck, you should’ve seen that coming. There was surely more to be said later, the conversation was left far from unfinished. However you stopped tallying up your misfortunes, deciding right there to erase the mental board on a whole. Because if you really wanted to keep score of something, the focus should be on him. The comforting thought of eventually being home with John would forever be more than enough.

[ichxgo]

It’s true enough. There’s no one else to blame. He was just so fucking mad. And Shiro—Shiro took the brunt of it because he was the one standing in the way. The closest target. Not that it would’ve mattered if Shiro had backed him anyway—Ichigo isn’t even sure he could’ve realistically taken the blame for his dad even if Shiro had. 

His gaze drops to the glass. He shouldn’t keep drinking. He has shit to do later. Important shit. But Shiro doesn’t have those restrictions, so Ichigo pours the glass.

Then Shiro says he promised everything, and the words hit like a knife between his ribs, clean and deep and devastating. Want lances through him so fast it hurts—not for sex, not just for touch, but for everything he knows he’ll never get to have with Shiro. For the version of their life that could’ve existed if things had gone just a little differently. If he weren’t on borrowed fucking time. If he hadn’t been so fucking stupid. 

“I really did mean it.” The words slip out before he can stop them, because they’re all he has left. They’re the only thing he can think every time this comes up, and he knows they can't mean a goddamn thing to Shiro.

Of course Shiro assumes he’s here because he wants something. Everyone always does.

“I came to see you.” The words come quiet, careful, but they feel heavy with all the other words hiding under them. Shiro didn’t believe it the first time. Probably won’t now. The feeling is akin to knowing he’s drowning to death and pretending he’s not. He gives a half smile though. “It would be easier if I did want something. Then at least you’d know how to handle me.” How to handle the problem of him. 

He exhales slow, measured, trying to steady himself, to push it all down deep enough to get through this night without falling apart. “You’re right. We don’t have to talk about it.” His breath shakes as he pulls it in, steadier this time. Then he says, softer, “What if… what if you pretend to forgive me, and I pretend to forgive you. Just for a night. We don’t even have to talk at all.”

A party goer stumbles down the stairs past him. He's not sure he'll ever get used to people showing themselves around his space, but he learned a long time ago to keep anything important or private locked up during big parties like this. He doesn't give the man a second thought.

He's confident Ichigo knew where he was going, so despite the closed door, he lets himself into his room and isn't surprised to see Ichigo and that bottle. He pushes the door closed behind him, but then pauses when Ichigo asks that. He nods; of course he remembers.

Stepping closer, he grabs that glass from the dresser top and takes a drink. Ichigo next words sting like a razor blade, freezing the air is his lungs for a moment. If the public sex didn't sober him up, this conversation sure would have. He clears his throat a little. "Yeah, well. You did a good fuckin' job." At making him think they could have a future, and at breaking him. He takes the rest of his drink like it's one big shot glass and sets it back on the dresser. If Ichigo's going to reopen still sore wounds he can at least pour.

He huffs a sardonic scoff of a laugh because the alternative is much more embarrassing. "Instead you promised me everything. I don't even know if I believe you. You want something from me, but you don't want me. Why are we having this conversation? Why are you here?"

So much for the second round he thought they were about to have. This is dressing as fuck. He's tempted to turn around and go back to the party.

[pirateprincessjess]

I’m gonna go ahead and call bullshit. There is no fucking way you figured out what’s wrong with someone’s pinball machine just by a vague fucking description in a tumblr ask. That other person is probably your alt account and you are just desperate to seem smart or some sad shit like that. Cringe.

Sorry anon, but I publicly look dumb on the internet all the time! No amount of pinball maintenance is going to counteract the damage I’ve already done to my reputation!

[thepandalion]

not to be annoying or anything but it's been 9 years since the release of indie game undertale

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam only snickered: What was that?

Lucifer: Oh, I think you heard me. Adam.

There was something different about the way Lucifer said his name this time, it made him feel different. He looked into his red and black eyes, Lucifer hadn't been happy when he learned the whites of your eyes turn black when you sell your soul, and there was a fire in them.

Lucifer: You want to go out later, that's fine. But the fucking LEAST you can do is eat here after I JUST put dinner on. I don't ask for much!

Adam didn't know why, but he was compelled to stay. Strongly compelled.

Adam: Okay geez, got your panties in a twist.

Lucifer glared but took his small victory, he would have to figure out how to get him to do bigger things like cleaning up after himself.

-

Adam would admit that the dinner that Lucifer made was better than fucking old peanuts from the bar.

And how did he manage to rope Adam into helping with the dishes?

Adam: ....... How did you do that?

Lucifer: What? Oh, you mean get you to stay, have dinner and help me? Well Adam, it was simple really. Makes it easier when I know your real name.

Uh oh.

He got so caught up in wanting to hear the hot blonde moan his name he accidentally gave him the power over him.

Fuck.

Adam still owned his soul, he can still fix this: Now look Lu-

Lucifer: SIT DOWN ADAM!

Him being angry really shouldn't turn Adam on but it does. He's just too cute!

Lucifer: Things are gonna change around here understand? I'm not your maid and I'm not your bitch.

Adam: Well-

Lucifer: I'M NOT DONE!!

Adam shut his mouth.

Lucifer: This is your place too, the least you can do is lend a hand or even clean up after yourself.

Adam was quiet for a moment, Lucifer realizing he knows his real name is a game changer. Gives him full control of Adam, but Adam owns his soul...... 75% might belong to Satan but he doesn't need to know that.

Adam: Do you hear yourself? Bitching like a chick -

Lucifer: And that!! It doesn't make me a fucking woman or have a "period" because I have fucking feelings Adam! Most people like being treated with common decency and respect. You get mad at me like I'm going to leave like "the others" but maybe if you treated people better they wouldn't have fucking left!

Adam felt his eye twitch, Lucifer was speaking too many truths too fast.

Adam: Look, Lucifer. You may know my name, but I still own you.

As if to prove his point he summoned his chain and pulled the sinner towards him, making Lucifer stumble. Adam wrapped an arm around Lucifer's waist keeping him to him.

Okay, maybe he crossed a line........

Lucifer wasn't scared, he was more determined than anything else and Adam could see it shining in his eyes.

House husband!Lucifer summoning goat!demon Adam for personal reasons 👀

But things quickly go wrong when he accidentally releases the demon and it eats all of his food, and tries to kill his wife.

Woops 🤷

RIP Lilith lol

-

Lucifer wasn't sure about this but what else did he have to lose? Ouji boards are sold in toy stores for children, if an 8 year old can summon a demon so can he.

He just needs a break........ Lilith had been so demanding lately and he doesn't know what else to do to relax and make her happy.

Nothing seems to make her happy at the moment and when she's not happy, no one under their roof is happy.

A demon summoning might seem a bit silly or extreme, but Lucifer doesn't know what else to do. Worst case scenario it just doesn't work and he wasted $10 on a book.

Lucifer: Here goes nothing.

He drew the symbol on the floor and stood a good distance away before saying the words.

Lucifer didn't expect it to work.

But it did.

The symbol glowed a demonic red color and a tall goat demon appeared in front of him.

Lucifer: Holy shit......

Adam: Who dares-!?........ Oh my Satan you're adorable!

[fandomfuntimem]

Dp x dc: batshit crazy driver au.

Bruce hired a new personal driver for the Wayne's. He was a nice enough guy. His grades weren't great, but he was a great driver and very patient. Like, really patient. Like, he is so unbothered by traffic, stupid drivers, and villain attacks, its kinda scary. But all the background checks came back clean. Minus his mad scientists parents, of course.

Daniel (Danny) Fenton. He could relate to any of the Wayne kids and hold an intelligent conversation with Bruce. Bruce feels that he doesn't need to be all Brucie Wayne around the young man. He doesn't know about their nightly activities yet, though. They're not quite sure if he even needs to know.

The first sign there was something more to Danny happened when Tim was sitting in the passenger seat. Tim was struggling with a math problem. It was driving him nuts. It only took a quick glance for Daniel to solve it, though, "it's thirty-six"

"What?"

"The answer is Thirty-six. You forgot to carry the three."

"Huh..."

He was right, Tim made a simple mistake, sure. But that was advanced college level math. Danny was a straight c student and never went to college. It only took him a momentary glance to solve it. Tim, though suspicious, chalked it up to a simple case of gifted kid syndrome. He related to it and began to consult with Danny on some of his math problems. Danny was more than happy to help, for a price, of course.

Then, there was a villain attack. The villain's goons ran rampant through the city, terrorizing anyone unfortunate enough to be outside at the time. But not Danny, they'll tried, oooh they tried. But those goons swiftly found themselves zip tied, in the trunk of a car, and on their way to jail. All while Danny blasted some music by a small artist named 'Ember'.

Alright. He is in Gotham, and his mother was a black belt, so maybe he was just well trained. Its good to know how to deffend yourself.

Then, Damien was kidnapped. It was so fast they barely saw, but a white van sped by and grabbed Damien as he made his way tawords the car. Initially, Damien expected the chauffeur to panic and call the police. But when shouting and cursing were heard from the front seat, and the men in the back slipped the van door open to check behind them, it was revealed Danny had followed them and he had a gun.

What could only be described as an action movie chase scene ensued. Every corner they swerved, every shortcut they took, Danny was right behind them. Driving like a bat out of hell, he shouted and fired at the wheels of the van. Knocking one out, the van swerved and was forced to come to a stop.

A kidnapper grabbed Damien by the hair and held a gun to his head, but before the threat could even leave his mouth a bullet flew through his hand. He dropped Damien and fell to the ground screaming, clutching his hand.

The kidnapper in the van already took off running but was swiftly stopped by Redhood arriving just in time to see Danny helping Damien up and checking him over, profusely apologizing for "letting this happen."

When asked why he did all of it, his simply answered, "I don't think I would get paid if I let Mr. Wayne's kid die! I can't let a kid die in general!"

Bruce, of course, gave the young man a bonus and a few days off for the stunt. Accompanied wlth a few stern words about safety. What was truly remarkable was that there was not a single scratch on the car. Untouched, meaning he never hit anything during the whole ordeal. "I just learned what not to do from my dad!" He joked, but Bruce felt that, despite the clear joking tone, there was some truth to the statement.

The family is suspicious, very suspicious. The man they previously viewed as their simple and humble driver turned out to be a monster of a fighter, and they have no idea how or why.

----------------------‐------

A/N: Feel free to add onto this in any way you would like :3

[mysicklove]

Summary: four-year-old Yuuji didnt mean to bring up Mr. Gojos crush on you, which of course, leads to Sukuna's harsh teasing.

cw: fem! reader (reader gets referred to as girl, pretty, and mommy), curse words, suggestive language, lion king spoilers (lol)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: i love making sukuna an absolute menace. poor yuuji tho. i think i am going to introduce gojo as a character, because I think it would be entertaining to piss Sukuna off lol.

big brother au masterlist

“Su-kuna!”

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“Language,” You scold, not peering up from your book. Yuuji lays sprawled out on top of the both of you – his head in your lap, and practically purring in content when you gently pet the top of his head, while his little legs are on Sukuna’s thighs. 

Yuuji giggles into your shirt, shaking his head mischeviously. “Bad word Su-kuna!”

In an instant, you feel the toddler being ripped away from your lap with a tiny screech. The noise startles you, and you perk up from your book to look to where the boy has gone to. But, you aren't surprised to see him dangling in the air by his ankle – Sukuna’s long fingers skillfully hold onto Yuujis chubby little leg tight enough to not drop him, but gently enough to not cause physical harm. 

The boy doesn't seem to mind this position, being in it so frequently. Giggles and squeals leave the toddler's mouth as he stares at his now upside down brother. “You learning how to speak correctly?”

Yuuji nods his head, and his hands try to reach for Sukunas shirt. You rest your head on the man's shoulder, chuckling at the boy who was squirming in the air. “Uh-huh! F-Fush-i-guro taught me!” The dark haired toddlers last name was hard to pronounce, and it was amusing watching how Yuuji sounded it out.

Sukuna makes a loud groaning noise and you cover your mouth to hold back another laugh. “Of course you made friends with Gojo’s new brat. First he hits on my girl, and now his new kid is gonna manipulate this idiot.” He shakes Yuuji in the air to demonstrate his point, ignoring the squeals. 

You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Just because Megumi taught Yuuji how to say your name correctly, doesn't mean the kid is manipulating him. Y’know Yuuji struggles with words sometimes.” You watch as the child in turn shakes his head in defiance, letting out a “Nu-uh!” that only makes you smile. You turn back over to your lover, kissing his cheek. “Aw, does it make you sad that our little Yuuji is growing up?”

“No,” he quickly rebuttals, “Brat isnt growing up fast enough. I am mad that you're not denying the fact that the white haired idiot is flirting with you.” You know that wasn't the full truth, but alas, Sukuna was extremely stubborn and would never admit that he didn't want his brother to grow up. 

“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo thinks you are pretty!” Yuuji announces, beaming at you from the air. You hold back a wince, smiling awkwardly back at the innocent words of the toddler. You watch as the boys cheeks begin to flush from all the blood rushing to his head, and immediately as if sensing it, Sukuna flips over the boy and instead places him on his lap, holding onto the back of his neck.

The action makes you smile, noticing the thumb that rubs gently at the pale skin. But when you glance at Sukuna, you notice quickly that he was anything but happy. Sukunas dark eyes twitches, flickering to you, and he speaks between his teeth. “Did he now? I may need to have a talk with Mr. Gojo next time I pick the little pest up. Does Fushiguro say anything else?”  

“Sukuna,” you whine, realising that the hold on the boys neck was not out of affection – instead was used to trap the boy while he was questioned. “Y’know Gojo is alot. He just wants to–”

“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo has a crush on Y/N!”

“Yuuji!” 

“B-But, Y/N has a crush on brother,” the boy concludes, furrowing his eyebrows with a small nod. “Right, Ku–um–Su-kuna?” He turns up to his brother, doe eyed with his head slightly cocked to the side in question. 

In response, Sukuna ruffles his hair, nearly sending the boy landing on his back. But, instead he giggles at the rough treatment, shutting his eyes and trying his best to stay upward. “The biggest crush. You make sure to tell the little brat that. Or else Mr. Gojo is going to try take her away.”

Your eyes widen and you push at his broad shoulders. “Sukuna! You're going to get him all worked up!” You exclaim, knowing the very sensitive (regarding you or Sukuna) child very well by now. You turn to the boy, whose own eyes widen as he trying to process the words. “Gojo is not trying to take me away.”

“He is going to take her away if you don't do anything, and little Megumi is going to have a new mommy.” Sukuna was grinning at the boy, as if his brother's fearful expression pleased him. You knew that he was being purposely dramatic – Gojo wasn't even technically Megumi's father, if there was a chance that you guys would ever get together (near zero) you would definitely not be the boy's new mom. But alas, Sukuna continues on with his words. “Thats why whenever you see the two of them talking you have to make sure you to scream as loud as possible.”

You cover the mans mouth before you he can spewl any more nonsense, but it was too late. Yuuji was already tearing himself from the man's lap and into yours – his lips begin to wobble and his eyes flood with tears. “Is-um-is that what you two talk about when I am with Mr. Nanami,” he warbles, thinking back to the multitude of times he has held onto his preschool teachers hand and watched you smile at the white haired man. 

“No, love,” you reassure, turning your attention instead from scolding your lover to consoling the child. “Sukuna is being mean again. Don't listen to him. Mr. Gojo and I are friends.” You ignore the look that Sukuna shoots you, showing how displeased he is at the idea of you being friends with his least favorite person. 

The boy sniffles, wiping his little fists on his face. “I-I dont want you to be Fush-i-guro’s mommy. You have to stay with me and Kuna! P-Please?” He doesn't even attempt to say his brother's name correctly, forgetting how he started the conversation all together. He was focused on trying not to cry, because his brother was sure to tease him, but it wasn't working out very well.

You kiss at his chubby cheeks, shaking your head with an exasperated look on your face, wondering how the hell you got to this conversation. “I am not, promise. I'm not going anywhere. Even if your brother is the worst, brattiest, malicious person alive, I have kinda grown attached to him. Besides, if I left who would I have movie nights with?”

“I am not a–” You shoot Sukuna a nasty glare, and he in return lets out an astonished laugh, but shrugs without care.

Your words make Yuuji perk up from your lap, and his eyes widen with glee. “You like movie nights too?” He was always begging for the three of you to watch movies together, but Sukuna always denies him considering it would end up being a cheesy Disney movie that Yuuji would fall asleep not even twenty minutes into.

“I love movie nights. Do you want to have one tonight?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sukuna butts in, and you spare him a glance. “Babe, we have plans tonight, remember?” He tilts his head to the side suggestively and you roll your eyes at him.

“Not anymore. Me and Yuuji are going to watch…”

“Human Earthworm 2!” The boy interjects, completely forgetting about his previous experiences with the movie, not good ones.

You poke at his cheeks, shaking your head. “I was thinking The Lion King.” 

“Yes!”

“No,” Sukuna groans, covering his eyes with his palm.

You look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No? Why are you putting your input in? You're not watching it with us.”

Sukuna, never have been told this before, looks appalled. “The fuck you mean?”

“Bad word!” Yuuji points to him in accusation, but Sukuna just ignores him.

You cock your head to the side, a sly grin pulling at your face. “You're not invited.”

“Why not?”

The two of you make eye contact for a long second, and after a moment or two, Sukuna sighs. “You're really mad about that?” You don't say anything, just continuing to stare at him. “Okay fuck–Yes that is a curse word, astute observation you brat. I am sorry for making the kid cry again.”

“And?”

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, but you hold your ground. Then, he turns to the boy with a sigh. “Dont scream when you see Gojo and Y/N talk, alright?” He jabs his finger into the boys chest and Yuuji nods his head rapidly in understanding. But, a foxish grin pulls at the mans face and he says, “Instead…The moment you hear him talk to her, you bite his leg.”

He barks a laugh at the confused face of his brother, but when he looks up to you, the smile falters. “Okay, c’mon it was a jo–”

You point your finger to the door. “Couch.”

“You can't kick me out of my own room!”

You don't move your finger. Yuuji glances at you, cocks his head to the side, and then mimicks your action. “Couch!”

The three of you go silent for a long minute, and at this point the boy's hand begins to tremble from holding his hand out for too long. Eventually when Sukuna realizes that there was no point of reasoning, he lets out a dramatic sigh, before crawling out of bed. 

When he notices your smug smile, he flips you off and you can't help but laugh at that. “I am coming back after the movie is done, ya hear?”

“If Yuuji does not fall asleep,” You tease in return, knowing the boy well, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. 

His eyes flicker to the boy who was snuggling up to your chest, trying to find a comfortable position to watch the movie in. Sukuna chuckles to himself, opening up the door, before turning back to the kid one last time. “Hey brat,” he calls.

“Hm?” 

“The father lion–Mufasa. He is my favorite character, so you'll bound to like him a lot. In fact, I sure do wonder if you'll get attached,” he muses, and your eyes widen when you realize what he is saying. Anything that is linked with Sukuna, Yuuji immediately falls in love with. This was bound to cause hysteria. “Enjoy the movie guys! Y/N have fun!” He calls, before shutting the door.

You pause for a moment, sighing into your hand. “Kuna likes the father lion? I want to see!”

You tried everything to avoid turning on the movie after that. But Yuuji, like his brother, was stubborn, and he desperately wanted to see the lion. He grew attached very quickly in that short period of time.

Deep laughs rumble through the house when Yuuji begins to sob over the animated lion's death. You lock the door, and Sukuna stays the night on the couch. 

[81pastrys]

Grid Flirt

Part 9 / 13

Summary— She stays low for the race, but not low enough for Horner to stay quiet.

Warnings— Christian Horner again.

A/N— Logan is mentioned again btw

Series List

The race comes up and almost every media I do, there is no happiness or cheer in my expressions. Every driver I see wishes me luck. We set the grid and the lights go out. Immediately I’m able to get up to P15.

Around 20 laps left and I got up to P6. Horner isn’t happy, but Max is P2 currently. We do our pits and I don’t get passed surprisingly. They just closed the gap I had. “Race update.” I say.

“Hamilton P1, Verstappen P2. Lap 62 with 12 to go. Piastri +3s behind.” He said.

“Copy, gap to front?”

“+6s.”

I end up getting really close to Russell in front and pass him gaining P5. “Car in front?”

“Norris, +4s” He said. “Don’t push, this place is good.”

“Copy, laps?”

“4 left, 4 laps.”

I stay comfortably in P5 and Max gets first, Hamilton second and Norris got up to third and Leclerc fourth. We pull into the pits and they pull the car in, allowing me to get out.

I take my helmet off and grab water. Horner rushes to me mad, as usual now. “P5?” He asked. “I told you to lay low Díaz!”

“I did, I laid low of first place and a podium.” I say calmly. “What did you not want the fucking points or something?”

“Unbelievable.” He said walking off. He’s acting like a baby. We all do media and there’s a top 5 interview. That’s what he meant. We go and sit on the couch. I cross my arms and have a blank expression on my face the entire time.

“Diaz, P20 to P5, pretty impressive.” The interviewer said.

“Yeah, it isn’t hard when you’re in a fast car.” I say. I put the mic down. “And when you want to piss off your team chief.” I mumble. Lando was sitting next to me and started laughing. He looked over to me and I started laughing too.

We end up laughing so hard we’re keeled over from the couch. We’ve caught everyone’s attention and then sit up trying to stop. They continue the interview ignoring us. “Thank you you guys, amazing job.” The interviewer said.

We go back to the paddock and change getting ready to leave. Horner is still trying to get words in but I don’t acknowledge him. “Mark my words Díaz, you will not be racing for me after today.”

I ignore him as he continues on. I walk out to the back of the paddock, Horner following me. I see my dad and give him a ‘save me’ look. “Shut it Horner.” He said.

“Your daughter is a horrible racer.” Horner responded. “Just like you.” Then he walks off. Someone got that on camera.

“Don’t listen to him mi hija, he’s just a bit heated.” My dad said. “Let’s go to the hotel hm?”

“Yes please.” I say and we leave. Once we get to the hotel my dad and I hangout in his room.

“Papi, how possible is it for him to take me off the team now?” I ask, a bit panicky.

“If he breaks a few rules, which he’s known for, possible.”

“Our reserve drivers are shit, he’s better off keeping me to win the constructors and-“

“Mi hija, slow down.” My dad reassured me. “You have another contract, the fight for drivers isn’t worth it.”

“I know papi, but his points will plummet without me!”

“Mi hija, mi flor, his loss.” He said trying to calm me down. “One championship loss will not be the end.”

“But papi-“

“No, we’re done with this conversation.”

I huff a breath and go to my room, changing into casual clothes. I go to the lobby and chill on one of the couches. Some of the drivers arrive and a few join me sitting for a minute.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asked.

“You want the truth or the lie?” I ask.

“The truth.” He said.

“Well quite literally, at a loss.” I say. “My dad wants me to let Horner give away my spot now and lose my spot in the championship.” I say. “Which is eating at my career. Even if I already have another contract.”

“Ok woah, with the accent you’re going to need to slow down.” He laughed a bit. When I speak quickly my accent becomes thicker.

“Basically I’m not winning a championship.” I say. “I also might not be racing again this year.”

Logan and I talk a bit more and then Max joins and I smile at him, the first smile since the top 5 interview. “Hello sweetheart.”

“Hey Max.” I say.

“Any updates about being replaced?” He laughed.

“Good question, I left my phone upstairs.”

“Díaz!” He snapped. “Absolutely not, go get it. Now!”

I get up and run to my room, using the stairs. I get my phone and there are so many missed calls and text messages. The articles already out. ‘Díaz cannot be replaced, how will Horner fare with these results?’ I go back downstairs with the biggest smile on my face.

“Verstappen!” I say. “What did you do?”

“Just have to manipulate the manipulator.” He smiled. Logan is no longer sitting on the couch. “He saw points and realized he won’t win this year without you.”

“Such a dick.” I say. “That’s what I was telling papi, and he told me it wasn’t worth the fight.”

“Really?” Max said. “You’re third in the championship.”

“I know! He told me I wouldn’t make it to the top anyway.” I say. “Now I can try.”

“Ah ah, not without a fight.” He said. “I’m not easy to beat.”

How will this pan out?

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto todoroki is fucking shameless. and surprisingly clingy.

he’d done a good job becoming a little more social little by little. he’s still a little wonky and awkward during the few times he tries to make conversation, but he tries and that’s the good part. you’re proud of him.

you’ve known shoto since you were kids, his closest friend, you’d seen him through it all and you’re so grateful that he’s found friends he feels comfortable and happy with, though he always reassures you that you’re dearest to him, which always makes you a little too giddy and flustered for somebody who’s supposed to be his closest friend and nothing more.

you’re in the cafeteria chatting with your mutual friends, shoto had told you to go off without him since he needed to go the bathroom and you found yourself sitting next to midoriya when he’d scooched in next to you, happy to see there was still a spot for him at the table. you liked midoriya a lot, he was sweet, cute and most importantly he made shoto come out of his shell in a way that you regrettably never could, plus the way he flails around when he gets embarrassed is pretty funny.

(you did notice ochaco’s face going completely blank for a few seconds, but you didn’t think much about it.)

after a few minutes of giggling and chatting shoto shows up, and something is immediately wrong with the way his natural straight face goes absolutely dead in the span of three seconds. it’s subtle, but you know him and it’s there. there also seems to be a chill in the room now.

he’s at your side of the table in three seconds, but he doesn’t register your smile in greeting as his cold gaze is glued to the green haired boy next to you.

“midoriya,” and his voice even sounds a little deeper, colder as he speaks like he somehow managed to use his right side on his mouth.

“that’s my seat.” he states calmly.

“oh ! my bad, todoroki !” izuku splutters an apology, but shoto’s eyes do not waver, staying fixed on the boy until he grabs his tray and makes a move to stand “i didn’t realize this was your spot, sorry !”

you feel a little bad at how intensely he’s apologizing, but you’re still shell shocked about that look. shoto seems unfazed though, his expression morphs slightly when izuku goes to squeeze in next to iida.

“i always sit next to yn.”

it’s so stupid. really, it is. how fast that makes your heart beat. because shoto does always sit next to you, he always has and he still always does when you come over to his house. but it’s the fact that he didn’t say he always sits here, in his unassigned assigned seat.

he said he always sits next to you. and your mind and heart races.

you don’t get much time to think because immediately he’s next to you, sighing before sitting as close to you as he can. he looks over to you and you look back, still a little startle but his features are soft again when he looks at you. he drops his utensils to thread his fingers with yours under the table.

“ did you wash your hands, mister ?” you tease, but you squeeze his hand when he squeezes yours. he frowns but it’s not the one from before. it almost looks like a pout and you snort.

“yes, i did.” he snips, you giggle and his eyes soften. even as you assure him you were just kidding he doesn’t mind, he couldn’t be mad at you.

you offer him a bite of your lunch as truce and he leans forward and plops a piece in his mouth from your chopsticks, then offers you a bit of his precious soba noodles and even holds a hand below them so they don’t spill because he insists on feeding you himself.

your friends pretend they don’t see the lowkey romantic exchange, but with the way shoto keeps insisting to have you eat his food and the soft barely there smile when you crack a joke that manages to break through his icey demeanor, they can start to figure out why he wanted to sit next to you so bad.

[multific]

The Emperor's Obsession

Emperor Geta x Commoner!Reader

Warnings: obsession 

Summary: Almost every day, you walk to get some bread. You never would have accepted that your walk past the Emperors' palace would not go unnoticed.

Emperor Geta saw you the first time when he looked out his balcony on a sunny day.

He saw a woman, beautiful, young, with a smile on her face, walking with a basket in her hand. 

His eyes followed her as she walked.

Soon she disappeared around the corner. But not long after, she walked back with her basket filled with bread.

She intrigued the young Emperor so much that every morning when he woke up, he rushed out to the balcony.

It was not every morning when she walked past the palace. There were days when Geta didn't see her. 

He happened to be angrier during those days resulting in more bloodshed.

"Where is she?" the Emperor asked, holding the curtains in his fist. His leg bounced with impatience.

Then, he saw her, walking with the same smile and basket in her hand.

Geta yelled for a guard.

"GO AND GET HER IN HERE!" Geta said as he pointed at the woman. The guard immediately nodded and rushed outside.

You were on your way home with some bread when a guard caught you.

"You, come with me." he said but when you pulled away, he grabbed your hand.

"I swear I didn't steal," you begged but he remained stoic.

"The Emperor wishes to see you." was all the guard said as you were dragged into the palace.

Soon, you saw the Emperor, the younger one.

Emperor Geta stood in front of you, in his cape, he was tall and handsome.

You bowed your head.

"Emperor. I told the guard, I wasn't stealing." you tried to defend yourself. 

"My Darling, your voice is exactly as I imagined. Sweet and pure, like honey." you opened your eyes and looked at the Emperor.

You knitted your brows, confused.

What did he mean by imagined? Why did the Emperor imagine your voice let alone how did he know who you were?

"I'm sorry?"

"You are perfect to be my wife."

You were speechless after that.

Wife? Did you hear him correctly?

He must be joking. But no, his expression...

He walked over to you, and grabbed your hands into his, making you drop your basket of bread as it fell to the floor. He kissed the back of your hand.

He must have gone mad.

You will be accused of being a witch. The Emperor must have gone mad.

Well, crazier than he already was.

The next thing you knew, you were sitting in a room with the Emperor, there was a cup of wine put in front of you and you looked at the rich red liquid and then at the Emperor.

"What's wrong Darling? Do you not like the wine?" it took you a moment to reply.

"It's not that, Emperor Geta, I'm simply confused. I was heading home..."

"Do you have a husband?"

"No." your answer came way too quickly. 

Why did you feel like you needed to clear that up so fast? And why did he have such beautiful eyes?

"Perfect, we will be married by the end of the next moon." he smiled and strangely, you found it calming.

---

During your time in the palace, you were given a room, clothes, food and wine.

Your soon-to-be husband definitely had a taste for luxury. So did his brother whom you have grow closer.

His childish behaviour, his laughter, and the fact that you didn't have a sibling, but you were sure this was what it felt like having one. 

Emperor Geta's obsession with you didn't stop nor did it fade.

As the days passed, he had grown more and more obsessed it seemed like.

No one was allowed to touch you or even speak to you except for Caracalla.

The servants feared the Emperor might kill them if they look at you.

But why were you happy about this?

Were you truly this desperate for love? 

Ever since you lost your parents you were alone. Pretending to be good and smiling at everyone when you just wanted to yell and scream.

With Geta, you didn't feel the need to pretend.

Your smile came naturally.

"My Love?" his voice came from the doorway as you turned and greeted him with a smile.

"Emperor Geta."

"Dinner is served, it will be just the two of us, my brother is attending a party." he held his hand out to you and you took it, allowing him to guide you down the halls.

"I'm happy to spend time with you." he smiled at you as you arrived and the table was filled with food, all your favourites.

"I made them cook your favourites. It is the night before our wedding after all. I wish for it to be special." he said.

"Every day I spend by your side is special." you told him as he sat down across from you.

As you ate, Rome prepared for the wedding of their Emperor. As you smiled at him, he smiled back.

After dinner, he walked you back to your room. It will be your last night there because, starting tomorrow, you will be joining him in his bed.

"Sleep well, My Love." he kissed the back of your hand, and as the door closed behind you, you knew you were doomed.

You might have been his obsession, but he became yours.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @mel-vaz

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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