#i constantly thank god for fireproofs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skitskatdacat63 · 1 year ago

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i for one am very interested in any other smiths songs you've associated with f1 drivers 👀

Oh god thank you for asking...sorry this took so long! I'll list the songs, but as with most things, I had to deliberate, so under the cut is my horrifically long explanations if you're curious!!

Obligatory: "The Boy With The Thorn in His Side"(x) - Strollonso

"You've Got Everything Now"(x) - Martian from Mark's POV

"These Things Take Time"(x) - Brocedes or Martian from Nico/Mark's POV

"Handsome Devil"(x) - drivers in fireproofs

"What Difference Does It Make"(x) - Martian from Seb's POV

"Back To The Old House"(x) - Mark's relationship with RBR and Seb

"Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want"(x) - Mark

"Sweet and Tender Hooligan"(x) - Max

You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby"(x) - Jenson, Mark & Nico

"Bigmouth Strikes Again"(x) - Martian from Mark's POV

Honorary mention: "The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get"(x) - Martian from Seb's POV

So as with all things, I needed to be comprehensive and overly detailed with this. Ill try and hold back from doing too much full song analysis, but I'll quote lyrics and explain why I associate what with who! Tbh I mostly just associate Smiths songs with Martian because I think their music is often really good at capturing the bitterness of a relationship falling apart or love so intense that it's violent, both which I think are very Martian

"You've Got Everything Now" - Martian

To me this is my de facto Martian song, I think about it constantly, I'll probably make a post with it sometime. It's just such a bitter song that's to me about a relationship falling apart. I view it from Mark's perspective.

"As merry as the days were long//I was right and you were wrong." Very petty, very bitter!!

"But you've got everything now//you've got everything now//and what a terrible mess I've made of my life." 2013 vibes, him being fed up with it all, particularly with Seb winning everything.

"You are your mother's only son//and you're a desperate one" Haha think of Christian as the mother in this situation. Golden boy vibes! Seb's utter desperation to win!

"A friendship sadly lost?//Well this is true...and yet it's false, oh//But did I ever tell you, by the way?//I never did like your face" Again that resentment and bitterness that made him act petty and childish

"I just want to be tied...oh ...to the back of your car" yayyyyy racing, why can't it be me in your position, in your car, etc etc

"These Things Take Time" - Brocedes or Martian

I used to think of this as only a Martian song but now it kinda makes me think of Brocedes. (To me)It's very much about one person in a friendship/relationship getting more successful and leaving the other behind.

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the sacred Wunderkind" Seb! Golden Boy! Lewis! Rookie of the Century!

"But I can't believe you'd ever care//and this is why you will never care//But these things take time//And I know I'm the most inept that ever stepped" Like, you're so above it all that you couldn't care for little old me. Just the feeling of inferiority

"But you know where you came from//You know where you're going//And you know where you belong" Mark/Nico feeling sometimes as odds with their teams as they felt their teammate was the clear favorite who was getting preferential treatment

"Oh the alcoholic afternoons//When we sat in your room//They meant more to me than any living thing on earth//They had more worth//Than any living thing on earth" Okay this is the verse that made me think of Brocedes. Their karting years and how much time they spent with each other.

"Vivid and in your prime//You will leave me behind//you will leave me behind" THE THESIS!!!! THIS LYRIC HAUNTS ME ON THE DAILY!! IT IS MY MARTIAN THESIS!!!

"Handsome Devil"

Okay so this song is just kinda jokey and surprisingly horny for The Smiths, but its where my brain goes every time I see drivers in fireproofs...especially Seb...it's pretty self explanatory if you listen to it

"You handsome devil//oh, you handsome devil." As I said: self explanatory

"Let me get my hands//On your mammary glands." HAHAHAHA these lyrics still make me laugh, so horny

"What Difference Does It Make?" - Martian

It reminds me of this one Martian fic(x) Again, a relationship deteriorating. How Seb's utter commitment and devotion to winning at all costs caused conflict between them and ultimately led to their relationship falling apart. Mark thinking he'd be seen as the Number One due to his seniority, and then being faced with Seb's no holds barred racing! I guess it's kind've how Mark never seemed to be capable of being as happy for Seb winning as Seb was for Mark. They're both at fault for the same reasons though tbh. But from Seb's perspective this time

"For we have been through hell and high tide//I think I can rely on you//And yet you start to recoil//Heavy words are so lightly thrown//But still I'd leap in front of a bullet for you" Teammates :( They keep fighting but can't stay mad at each other forever

"So what difference does it make?//It makes none//But now you have gone//And you must be looking very old tonight." Like, why are you being such a baby, why does this have to change our relationship off the track too, why can't you just accept this about me, don't you know I need to win?

"Well I'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh." This can be both. Even if they had bad moments, they always seemed to be able to at least partially reconcile

"Back to The Old House" - Mark & Martian

Goddddd this song is just Mark's relationship with RBR, and particularly in its relation to Seb, and how he felt post-retirement. Like I can't even really pick lyrics because the whole entire song fits so well! I would love to make a web weave with this

"I would rather not go//Back to the old house//I would rather not go//Back to the old house//There's too many bad memories//Too many memories there" Mark's relationship with RBR in terms immediate post-retirement. How it got toxic by the end. The "old house" is so RBR coded for any ex-Red Bull driver tbh

"When you cycled by//Here began all my dreams//The saddest thing I've ever seen//And you never knew//How much I really liked you//Because I never even told you//Oh, and I meant to//Are you still there or have you moved away?//Or have you moved away?" Again, being teammates made their relationship toxic, and they work much better together as people outside of that! Seb thinking Mark hates him :( And then "have you moved away?" HE MOVED AWAY FROM THE OLD HOUSE, HE MOVED TO FERRARI

"Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want" - Mark

This song makes me think of how arduous his career was, especially with how all those records that Hulk has now, were at one point his. Especially after watching the 2009 British GP, just that palpable relief of finally getting his first win. And then also 2010 WDC vibes, finally properly being involved in the fight. Please just let him get what he wants, this time! I dont need to analyze the lyrics for this, just listen to it and tell me it doesn't remind you of Mark!!

"Sweet and and Tender Hooligan" - Max

Hahaha this song reminds me of his first couple seasons and just the whole "Mad Max" thing. And just how RBR, particularly Christian, have to defend their boy!! Their sweet and tender hooligan!! I think I could make a web weave of this one as well haha, just with how other drivers, like Nico, talked about how much a menace he was.

"He was a sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan//He said he'd never, never do it again//And of course he won't, oh, not until the next time" LITERALLY HIM!! Like with his insane overtakes and aggressive driving

"Poor old man, he had an accident with a three-bar fire//But that's okay, because he wasn't very happy anyways." Makes me think of my fav Max radio, when he overtakes Kimi and says "See you fucking later, son" The utter gall!! What a hooligan!!

"Jury, you've heard every word, so before you decide//Would you look into those "Mother Me" eyes?//I love you for you, my love, you, my love." Mother Hen Christian defending his teenage menace

"You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby" - Jenson, Nico & Mark

Tbh fits any driver who had a long career and struggled for so long to get that first win/WDC. I would love to make a post with this song!!!

"If you're wondering why//All the love that you long for eludes you//And people are rude and cruel to you" Toxic fans and pundits you know :( like everyone saying they won't make it in F1 and that they'll never win, etc

You just haven't earned it yet, baby//You just haven't earned it, son//You just haven't earned it yet, baby//You must suffer and cry for a longer time//You just haven't earned it yet, baby//And I'm telling you now" THE THESIS OF F1 HONESTLY LIKE PLEASEEEE

"Today I am remembering the time//When they pulled me back//And held me down//And looked me in the eyes and said//You just haven't earned it yet, baby//You just haven't earned it, my son" Team principals I guess, it reminds me of Flavio hating Jense and calling him a useless playboy who'd never make it

"Bigmouth Strikes Again" - Martian

Foot? In mouth. This is one of the songs I was thinking of when I said love so intense that it feels violent. I am so obsessed with the opening verse, I love the whole song but that first verse....:

"Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking//When I said I'd like to smash every tooth//In your head//Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking//When I said by rights you should be//Bludgeoned in your bed." Normal comments one makes to their little twink bastard teammate

"The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get" - Martian

Not Smiths, but Smiths adjacent. I'm trying to make a Martian playlist and this was the first song so I felt like I had to include it. It just reminds me of any of those posts about twink menace Seb ruining Mark's life LOL, just a very bratty and pushy song, I think it fits RBR Seb's somewhat Stockholm relationship with Mark

"The more you ignore me//The closer I get//You're wasting your time." You're not getting rid of me as your teammate no matter what hehehe, you're stuck with me!

"I am now//A central part//Of your mind's landscape//Whether you care//Or do not//Yeah, I've made up your mind" This lyric makes me laugh every time, the "Ive made up your mind", it always gets me. That's so pushy bratty Seb, like, yes I will get my way whether you like it or not

"I will creep//Into your thoughts//Like a bad debt//That you can't pay//Take the easy way//And give in." Absolutely canon that Seb lived in Mark's thoughts rent free, he took up proper residence!! Anyways this whole song fits, it's so cheeky!! And a little unhinged....

#this is the worst post ive ever made #just because writing and analyzing all of this reminded me too much of school #i enjoy it btw! but it took a while so it reminded me of writing essays UGH #the worst part was me printing out the lyrics and annotating #my brain is just like: i cant just put the songs without explanation! i must write a whole dissertation on why I think these fit #writing it was fun bcs i like analysis but at the same time super difficult bcs even if these songs remind me of specifc things #its always just daydreaming go brrrrrrr and not really too much super analytical thought #can you tell im very normal about The Smiths???? I don't think the 5 billion paragraphs emphasize it enough /s #catie.rambling.txt #catie.asks.#martian #the smiths #f1 #formula 1

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hazzyking · 1 year ago

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More head cannons of Lovissa interacting with the group

@fanaticsnail requested to be tagged in all things Astarion

• Lovissa asked Astarion to make her fireproof clothes so she could give Klarach a hug

• "darling, you worry so much about everyone else"

"I know,"

"I can help you worry about yourself. I'm practically an expert now- thanks to you of course~"

"Everybody needs me"

"The world will be fine if you just breathed for a moment"

• Astarion letting Lovissa cry in his chest despite the fact that she feels guilty for crying over silly things

"It's not a competition Darling, cry it out"

• Lovissa reading books on infernal text to try and help Astarion.

• Lovissa giving Lae'zel lizards because she thinks they will grow up to be dragons.

• Lovissa and Gale talking about their sexhal encounters

"All of the good ones are with Astarion arnt they?"

"Maybeeeeee"

• Lovissa getting jealous when Astarion drinks from other creatures.

• Lovissa constantly burning her hands because she wants to give Klarach the touch she craves.

• Shadowheart healing her burn wounds and her bloodless attribute whilst judging her harshly

• Lovissa giving all the heavy weapons to Lae'zel.

• offering to carry Lae'zel's Sharpening wheel despite the fact Lovissa has like 8 strength

• Astarion mending her clothes at night

• Lovissa using Astarion's lines against him

"It was as if the gods made you, just to ruin me"

"I do not sound like that"

• Lovissa collapses on Astarion's lap while he reads, and then Astarion holds his book with one hand so he can lazily run his fingers through her hair

• Lovissa and Astarion arguing over the kind of life they will live when all the mindflayer shit is over

"A huge castle!"

"A cottage in the woods"

"The differences between High Elves and Wood Elves are fascinating"

"Shut Up Gale" (unison)

#bg3 gale #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 tav x astarion #bg3 headcanons

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juergenklopp · 3 years ago

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#i constantly thank god for fireproofs

— for @chriscronin

#Sebastian Vettel #F1 #f1edit #dailyf1 #.gif #.original #There is no rhyme or reason #sportsedit #Formula 1 #motorsports

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

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Body Shots (Pierre Gasly)

Inspired by (and beta read) by the amazing @limp-wrist-max thank you Mea!

Masterlist

Word count: 3.5k

Recommended song: “Lucky You” by Sim Dane

Vacationing in Milan had its perks. Fine dining, luxury stores that were prime for window shopping, and the proximity to your best friend, to name a few.

When you'd touched down in Milan you had had no intentions of visiting Pierre. You had just finished your exams for your summer class and had a week before the next semester started up, so you had simply booked the cheapest ticket and boarded a plane.

The intent had been to have some good wine, good food and unwind. Pierre saw your Instagram story minutes after you posted it and recognized the bakery you stopped at for lunch. And once he found out you were only a few minutes away from that weekend's grand prix, he had ideas that didn't involve you reading a novel all day.

Pierre had insisted that a last minute cancelation by a family friend had left a paddock pass unclaimed and had suggested you take it.

"You're my best friend, it'll be fun to have you experience a weekend through my eyes for once instead of sitting in the stands. Come visit me."

Something in the inflection of his voice made the simple request rub you raw. He missed you. It had been months since your last get together and you couldn't blame him. The last year had been rough for him and he rarely had anyone physically at his side to help him through it.

Inviting you instead of one of his parents was about more than your current proximity to the track. He hadn't missed a beat in asking you, not hesitating to consider anyone else being with him this weekend.

Your stomach had turned as you climbed in a cab Sunday morning, not out of fear of something going wrong but because of the nagging feeling that something was about to change.

You'd known Pierre since you were kids. Your brother had raced in karting before pursuing another dream, but in the few short years you'd hung around European tracks you had managed to forge a bond with one of your brother's rivals. That friendship carried on regardless of the distance that separated you, kept alive by visits in the off season and once a year trips to the racetrack at Silverstone.

Pierre met you at the gates and you had barely seen him since.

A decent qualifying session saw the Frenchman start P10 on Sunday's race. He didn't hide the fact that he was disappointed, but come time for his final meeting with the team you'd never guess he was anything but ecstatic.

You had to be conscious about your mouth hanging open when Pierre stepped into the garage in his fireproofs with his suit half undone. The tuft of blond hair peeking through his backwards cap floats on an invisible breeze and he bounces on his toes. His brow furrows when he is handed a data sheet, listening intently to what the engineer points out.

Butterflies riot in your stomach when Pierre catches you staring and winks. You pray he writes the blush on your cheeks off as the heat and he must, because he raises his eyebrows and flexes a bit.

You laugh to cover the way you want to do nothing but strip him out of that tight fitted white shirt. Your crush was getting out of hand. Pierre's shameless, friendly flirting only escalated matters.

You told yourself it was nothing. He was like this with every girl he met, making a fool of himself to earn a laugh. You were no different, except maybe that you were a constant where most other women only got to enjoy his playful personality for a short time.

You're treated to a few long minutes of watching Pierre prep to climb into the car before he's heading out on track to line up at the grid.

The race starts off fine, Pierre's pace is better than expected. One of the Haas's breaks down at the pit entry and Pierre's strategist decides to bring him in for a fresh set of tires. A kiss seems like the proper reward for their stroke of brilliance, which affords Pierre the advantage when the pits close soon after.

Restarting on lap 28 is nail biting. Hamilton, Stroll, and Pierre make up the podium places. The entire garage gasps when Stroll goes wide at turn four. Hamilton serves his penalty and Pierre inherits the lead. Sainz jumps on the opportunity to attack.

Pierre defends brilliantly until the final lap. The team erupts when he crosses the line first, bringing home the win.

Red, white and green confetti sticks to his skin as he sprays the champagne over all of you. In the heat of it all, Pierre sits on that top step and shakes his head. You already know that the photos of him being snapped from all angles will be gorgeous, the sun shining down on the first French grand prix winner in decades.

A legend in the minds of his people and in yours.

You could scarcely believe it yourself. Your best friend had finally, after years of being pushed down, won a grand prix at the temple of speed. Red Bull had been wrong, just as you'd insisted when Pierre cried over losing his seat and his friend in one weekend. But god, did Pierre rise above it all.

Pierre catches your gaze just before he leaves the podium. A lifetime of emotion swirls around him like an enigma, begging you to find out what it was hiding. Your wave is barely more than a lift of your hand but Pierre notes it nonetheless, tipping his trophy in your direction.

You wait patiently on the sidelines as Pierre poses for pictures with his team on and off the track. His attention constantly falls on you, his grin widening each time he sees you tucked under the arm of an enthusiastic mechanic or crew member. Alpha Tauri was a family and you were an honorary member thanks to your connection to their driver.

An action packed hour of cameras passes before Pierre is able to break away. As soon as he's given the go ahead he passes his trophy off and marching to you. You're both practically running by the time you meet in the middle. You crash into him and he lifts you off your feet in a crushing hug.

"You did it," you whisper, overwhelmed by his success now that you've gotten the chance to celebrate with him. "I'm so proud of you."

Pierre laughs as he sets you on your feet. His smile is wider than you've ever seen it and you're sure his cheeks must be sore.

"Wish they allowed us to bring a friend up there," Pierre says softly, a smile melting into a sly smirk. "Seeing you doused in champagne is an image I wouldn't forget."

You shake your head, caught up in his ceaseless flirting. He had no idea that his honeyed words and gentle touches lit something inside of you, rattling your brain and making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. Instead you snatch the black and gold Pirelli cap off his head and place it on your own, earning you a peal of laughter.

"Looks better on you anyway." Pierre runs a hand through his sweaty, champagne doused hair, leaving bits sticking up at odd angles.

Someone calls Pierre's name, far enough away that there's no rush. Pierre's hands remain planted on your waist and yours stay wrapped around his neck. By the way his bright blue eyes bore into yours, you swear he's thinking the same thing you are.

"Thank you for believing in me," he murmurs, gaze falling to your lips.

"I knew it was just a matter of time," you tell him, inching up on your tiptoes. Tempted by his win, you want to ruin the best friendship you've ever had. You want to discover if the lips you spend far too much time dreaming about felt as soft as they looked. You want to know how it feels to be lost in Pierre, newly minted race winner, and find out just how he dealt with the adrenaline and euphoria of his incredible drive.

"Well done mate!"

Max Verstappen startles the two of you apart. You take a healthy step back and drop your gaze to the ground to hide your burning cheeks.

"Thanks." Pierre accepts the Dutchman's embrace and claps him on the back. "Sucks I didn't get to fight you for it."

"There will be more chances in the future. And I didn't expect to see you here, that's a nice surprise." Max knocks you with his shoulder, tipping you off balance. On instinct you latch onto Pierre's arm to steady yourself. You wait a heartbeat too long to remove your hand and both of you find anywhere to look but each other.

"So where's the party?" You ask, searching for a distraction from the way your palm still burns.

"Definitely not at Red Bull." Max shudders and you laugh because that's what you do when someone is being over dramatic. It rings hollow in your ears.

"I hear there's a few guys with adjoining rooms at the hotel who bought plenty of booze," Pierre says. "You and Dan wanna come by?"

"Is that really a question?" Max grins, already typing out a text as Pierre feeds him the details.

**********

"You should do body shots," Max suggests, which earns a roaring laugh from Daniel and a half hearted one from Pierre.

"I don't think so," Pierre says, "there's no one here I trust enough to let that happen."

"Not even your best friend?" Max gestures to you and shoots you a wink when Pierre glances over. "I think she's trustworthy."

"No thanks." Pierre holds up his plastic cup and salutes Max before draining it to the dregs.

Pierre's immediate refusal hurt more than it probably should have. You hadn't expected him to jump at the offer but having him shut the idea down so thoroughly hadn't been what you wanted either.

Max notes your pouty lower lip and speaks on your behalf. "Come on mate," Max insists. "You just won your first prix, live a little! It's not like you've got anything to lose, she's your best friend."

"That's exactly why-"

"Shut up, it would be fun! Wouldn't it?" Max says this last bit to you, a wild grin on his face.

Max expects you to turn red and object. That was his end goal. But what the Dutchman hadn't counted on was how drunk you already were on Pierre. On his smile. On his bright blue eyes, swirling in the aftermath of his unlikely triumph. And mostly on the not-so-sneaky way he glances at you every few minutes.

"Let's do it."

Pierre blinks, searching your face for any sign of distress. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah, why not?" You shrug, suddenly fearing that you'd read him wrong and he really was against this whole thing. "Unless you don't want to-"

"Get the vodka," Pierre interrupts, nodding to Max though his stare remains pinned on you. Pierre latches onto your wrist and drags you around the room until he finds a table long and sturdy enough for his liking.

"This a good height for you?"

The coffee table is low enough that you'd have to kneel. Luckily getting on your knees isn't something you'd mind doing for Pierre. You lick your lips without thinking. Pierre's pupils blow wide, black swallowing the swirling oceans of blue.

"Sure," is all you manage.

"Good." Apparently neither of you were able to focus on speech. You work together to clear the empty plastic cups and used napkins from the surface. Your hands brush when you both reach for the last cup and you just catch the way Pierre's breath hitches.

You and Pierre have danced this dance since you were teenagers. Each of you knows the steps by heart. The only difference is tonight neither of you were poised to bow out before the final lift.

"Beep beep, bitches!" You yank your hand away when Max's shout reaches you. Pierre's hand lingers in front of him, outstretched as if your palm remained grazing his thumb.

Max holds the bottle of vodka over his head as he wades through the crowd. "You're all about to be very, very entertained."

"Where's your chaperone?" You ask Max, searching for Daniel in the low lighting. You press your palm to your thigh, dissipating Pierre's lingering heat.

The Dutchman waves you off. "Went to get us more drinks. Pierre, isn't it kinda hard to do body shots if you're still fully clothed?"

"Who says I'm the one getting undressed?"

Max's grin dimples his flushed cheeks. "I mean you can ask her to take her shirt off in front of all these people if you want to."

"No," Pierre responds quickly. "Fine. I'll do it."

When Pierre strips off his shirt he gets more than a few whistles from men and women alike. That tended to happen when someone was built like a Greek fucking god, you supposed. Whoever voted for People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" and decided on Michael B. Jordan had clearly never laid eyes on Pierre, with his bronzed skin, endless expanses of muscle, and brilliant cheshire grin.

Michael B. Jordan who?

Pierre hands the team branded shirt off and lays out on the table. He pillows an arm under his head, bare bicep flexed as he gets comfortable. Leaning in to kiss along the hard muscle was out of the question, however tempting it was.

Pierre looks up expectantly. "You coming?"

Holy shit, this was actually happening.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You sink to your knees and Pierre laughs.

"Up here." He pats his thigh with his free hand and beacons you forward. "Please."

Screw it, you've already thrown your friendship out the window. This night ended either in heartbreak or awkwardness, might as well get your money's worth.

A few whoops break out above the music. The bassline isn't the only thing thundering in your chest as you straddle Pierre's thighs, hands braced on his chest.

"Okay?" Pierre whispers for your ears only. You nod with what you hope is a charming smile.

"Alright move," Max says, shooing you back until you're resting on your haunches. Max flicks the cap off the bottle and you grab it to take a long sip.

Max gapes at you and you wipe a hand over your mouth. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies."

Pierre's thighs tense beneath you in response to your bold declaration. Dozens of Pierre's friends and team members gather around. For all you care, Pierre is the only person in the room.

"Last chance to back out," Max warns. You're too busy tracking the drop of liquid that falls from the neck of the bottle to splash onto the crease of Pierre's abs to bother responding.

"Pour it out." Pierre's chest sinks with his demand, doing nothing but sparking your imagination, creating images of him heaving beneath you. You'd sell your soul to recreate the way you're currently poised above Pierre's hips with a little less clothing and no audience.

Max gives up hope on you replying and dribbles the alcohol up Pierre's abdomen, stopping just below his pecks.

"Have at 'er-"

Your tongue is on Pierre's skin before Max has finished his sentence. You feel the muscle tense beneath your tongue, going rigid at the first contact. The burn of the vodka doesn't even register as you lap it up, catching the drips that fall over his sides.

You aren't sure either of you is breathing. Salty sweat mingles with the sharpness of the alcohol, an afterthought barely worth mentioning.

Blame the liquid courage or blame the high from Pierre's win, but you were confident Pierre was enjoying this just as much as you.

Planting a hand on Pierre's hip, you steal a glance up at him to find him locked on you. You take that as permission to continue, dragging your tongue flat up his stomach and continuing well past where the vodka had been poured. Up between his pecks, over the curve of his throat that bobs beneath your tongue, over his chin until you meet his lips, already parted and waiting.

Neither of you pay the shouts cresting around you any heed. You've both waited too long for this, endured too many almosts and what ifs to let the opportunity slip through your fingers. Your sticky hands cradle Pierre's face, angling it in a way that's to your liking so you can explore more of his mouth. He tastes like whiskey and mint, the juxtaposition of hot and cold scattering your thoughts. One of Pierre's hands finds the nape of your neck when you gasp for air, refusing to let you end the moment.

And it's pure, unending bliss that floods your veins when he nips at your lower lip, swollen and surely reddened from his kiss. His thumb sweeps across the back of your neck while you both fight to catch the breath currently evading you.

Daydreams didn't hold a candle to the real thing. One taste and you were addicted, craving as much as Pierre was willing to give.

"Hey," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a stupidly gorgeous smile.

"That was nice," you tease, tangling your fingers in the silky blond strands of his hair. "I wouldn't be opposed to doing it again."

"Me too. Maybe somewhere where it's just us though. I wouldn't want to scandalize my team any further." You manage to steal another sweet peck before Max hauls you off Pierre.

"Fucking finally," Daniel says, clapping when you're upright again. "Do you know how long I've been trying to orchestrate this? The two of you really are dumber than a box of rocks. I can't believe all it took was Max suggesting body shots to get you two to kiss."

The arm that wraps around your waist feels right. Pierre hasn't hugged you like this before, with his chin resting on your shoulder and his nose nuzzling your neck, but it already feels like home.

Pierre ignores Max completely in favor of pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. "Why don't we go back to my room? I'll pour more alcohol on myself if that's what it takes to convince you."

You're just about to take him up on the offer when one of his team members taps his shoulder. He glances at them impatiently, which the man thankfully doesn't take personally.

"They want some photos with you holding your trophy," he explains, handing a shirt and the star shaped interpretation of the Italian flag to Pierre. "It will only take a few minutes, they promised not to keep you long."

Of course everyone knew exactly where your minds were. Sanity had long since left the premises, tangled up in crisp white sheets. Pierre's entire team and half the Red Bull garage had seen what had gone down while the prix winner was sprawled on that coffee table. There would be no chance of denying it in the morning.

And while you'd never imagined that the first time you'd kiss your best friend would be directly preceded by licking copious amounts of shitty liquor off his super-heated skin, now that you'd experienced it any other way seems forgettable.

Pierre sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, I already have my trophy, but…" your stomach lurches when you realize he means you. Pierre catches the way your mouth hangs open and he shoots you a grin before accepting the real trophy.

"You carry it," he says, not giving you much of a choice as he thrusts it into your hands. "I'm occupied."

You're about to point out that his hands are, in fact, free and that the more likely reason for insisting you carry the trophy was his usual post-race laziness when he slings an arm around your shoulders and tucks you tight to his side.

"Is this okay?" Pierre asks when you involuntarily stiffen. God, it was more than okay, it was perfect, it had just caught you by surprise. You'd only kissed him a handful of minutes ago and Pierre was already wrapped around your finger, smitten as if you'd been a couple for years.

"Yeah no, it's perfect. Simply lovely," you say quickly, stumbling over your words.

"Can I kiss you again?"

Your answer comes in the form of a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. You prop the trophy on your hip and smile up at your race winner.

"You don't have to ask that ever again. My answer is always yes."

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 rpf #f1 #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 rpf

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theringers · 3 years ago

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watch me burn - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part seven

summary: “oh baby, I've been thinking about it, you know that I've been dreaming about it” watch me burn / michele morrone

a/n: hi:) still a few more parts to go but i went a few chapters without smut and this was needed so enjoy:) also if u listen to the title song while u read its a whole new experience lmfao

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex

2 months ago, to the day

Your eyes met his piercing blue eyes in the garage once again. It had been a month since you slept with Pierre and you haven’t stopped thinking about it. The way he stared at you as he fucked you was the exact same way he was glaring at you across the paddock. Needy and desperate.

You shook yourself back into focus and listened as Max’s strategist reiterated today’s race strategy but you couldn’t help daydreaming about what that man could do in bed.

You drowned out the conversation about tyres and looked over to Alpha Tauri at the perfect time. Pierre had his bottom lip between his teeth while he examined his car. He ran his hand slowly over the chassis seductively like he knew you were watching. His fingers grazed the metal in painstakingly slow circles. After he removed his hand from the car was when he caught your eyes. He gave you a smirk, not even a smile, and turned away. It was good to know that you weren’t the only one thinking about what happened.

The race started and you were in the garage, cheering on Max. He had started second on the grid but due to a first lap incident, he was fifth. He was not going to be happy after the race. He can tolerate if he fucks up but having other people interfere with his race is something he takes particularly hard.

Pierre’s car came up behind Max’s around a corner and got too close for comfort. Max jerked his steering wheel too much as he tried to turn, sending Pierre’s car straight into the barriers.

You stood up out of your seat and gasped. Everyone in the garage was relieved to see Max still racing and no one seemed to be concerned about Pierre. You took off your Red Bull Racing branded headphones and slammed them on the table before rushing over to the Alpha Tauri garage.

Anna was seated in her chair, looking worried, but not enough for you. She should be close to tears like you were.

“Have you heard anything from him?” You asked and Anna looked up, almost annoyed.

“He’s conscious,” his race engineer said, “but hurting.” You heard the groan come through followed by a bunch of curse words. He apologized profusely for his move but it was all Max’s fault.

You watched on Alpha Tauri’s monitors as the race was red flagged and decided to head back to Red Bull’s garage. “Let me know when you hear something,” you said to Anna. She nodded and looked back down to her phone. Fucking bitch. Her attitude made you not even feel bad about sleeping with her husband. She didn’t deserve him.

Max walked back to the garage looking like a life size bobble head with his heavy helmet swinging around. “Is Pierre okay?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“He’s conscious. He took a nasty hit.”

“I know, I feel bad. I didn’t mean to, the steering wheel just got away from me. I saw him crash in my rear view mirror.”

You were visibly shaken and Max always knew the right things to say when you weren’t feeling okay.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Max said, rubbing your back.

You nodded in agreement. “I know he will. I’m going to check on him at the medical center once the race starts again.”

Max smiled at you. “That would be good. Make sure you tell him I’m sorry.”

An engineer put his hand on Max’s shoulder and shoved a spreadsheet full of data in his face. He shrugged his shoulders and walked with the engineer to the monitors.

It wasn’t long before the race got underway again. Max made it up to third, podium position, but there were still at least 30 laps left. You started the trek through the paddock and over to the medical center. You were just a bit too late as you saw Pierre walking out down the ramp. He smiled when he saw you approach him.

“How ya feeling champ?” You asked him.

“I’m a bit sore thanks to your husband.”

Your face fell. “He sends his apologies. I promise he was actually remorseful.”

“Max? Remorseful? What did you do to him?”

You laughed. Max did have a temper and tended to be extra competitive but he had formed a special bond with Pierre these last few years. They weren’t friends by any means but they helped each other out whenever possible. This was one of the times that it wasn’t possible.

“He does genuinely feel bad, Pierre.”

“I know he does, it was a racing incident. I saw the footage.” He limped slightly through the paddock and winced when he put pressure on his left leg. “I think I should go lay down for a bit.” He took another step and lost his balance. You grabbed his arm and held him, making sure he stayed steady.

“This is it right here,” he pointed to his motor home.

“Do you want me to help you up there? I don’t want you to fall.” You said with a soft smile on your face. How could he resist your offer of help?

“Sure,” he limped over to the door and you aided him up a few stairs. “Shouldn’t you be watching the rest of the race? Last I checked, Max was doing really well.”

He sat down on the luxe white leather couch in exhaustion and you sat at the table across from him. “He wanted to make sure you’re okay. He’ll be fine.” You looked around the motorhome, observing your surroundings to seem busy. “So Anna’s nice…” you said, followed by a laugh. You had known Anna for a few months now. Their wedding was right before the season started and you really hadn’t known her much before then either. She tended to keep to herself and you wanted to respect that.

“She can be a bit…”

“Yeah, I know. I went to check on you after the crash and she looked like she wanted me dead.”

“In her defense, she caught me checking out your ass this morning. She was not very happy with me after that.”

You leaned forward to give him a light smack. “Pierre!” You shook your head in disappointment. “What did she think of the way you were practically fingering your car this morning?”

He played fake shy. “Oh, you saw that?”

“You make my heart beat crazy fast.” You admitted, putting your hand to your chest. “That didn’t help.”

“Well, as long as you enjoyed yourself.”

Enjoy yourself you did. He was in his same fireproofs from earlier and you were sure he didn’t know how turned on they made you. They were pulled down to his waist, the sleeves hanging low off his hips. His white undershirt was tight to his body, putting his abs on full display. His legs were spread wide, inviting you in. Was it hot in there? Was the air conditioning on?

He ran his hands over his abdomen and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. He groaned, sounding like he was in pain, frustrated, and horny at the same time.

Why did he have to be so unbelievably irresistible to you? When you were around him it was almost impossible to contain yourself. There was a magnetic force dragging you to him constantly. You moved yourself to sit next to him, earning his attention and popping his head up.

“You look really hot right now,” you giggled to yourself. He made you feel like a teenager experiencing her first love. The nerves were through the roof.

“Well, I feel hot.” He looked around the walls of the motorhome. “Where the hell is the air conditioning and who turned it off?”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god it’s not just me.” He looked over at you examined your face. He placed his hand on your red cheeks. “You’re flushed.”

When he touched you, a chill ran through your body. Your body felt on fire and he had the power to send a freezing cold chill through it all.

“My cheeks get really red when I get nervous.” You blushed even more having to admit that. It was your least favorite characteristic of yourself. Everyone always knew flat out when you were nervous.

“I can’t tell if it makes you look cute, like I want to hug you, or if I want to fuck you.” His hand still rested on your cheek as he looked back and forth between your eyes and lips. “You look so god damn innocent. Like I could totally ruin you with just a few minutes alone.” His thumb ran over your lower lip and you instinctively stuck your tongue out to meet his thumb. He took the opportunity to put his thumb in your mouth and you suctioned around it, keeping eye contact with him. “Y/n,” he breathlessly begged, “please.”

His lips crashed to yours, feeling warm and secure the moment they touched. His hands held your neck and you moaned into his mouth, forgetting what it felt like to be touched by him.

He hoisted you onto his lap, wincing a bit when you grazed his knee. His hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist as he pulled you closer to him, grinding your hips. “Don’t do this to me,” he said into your neck.

“Why not?” You said cheekily.

“We don’t have much time.” You almost forgot that there was a race going on right now.

“I can be quick.” You hopped off of him and locked the motorhome door as he undressed out of his fireproofs. He looked so good in his white suit but he looked even better naked. You slipped off your underwear and hoisted your sundress up to your waist before going back to his lap.

He guided your body on top of his, settling you down as you took all of him in, deep. “Shit. A condom.” You said, after the bare feeling of him inside of you set in. God did it feel good but it wasn’t right.

“I don’t think I have any in here.” He said. “I promise I’ll pull out. I need you so bad.” He lightly bit your nipple through your sundress.

“I will kill you if you’re lying to me.” You started to move your hips and moaned at the sensation. He felt so good filling you up all the way.

He took your ass in his hands and started to bounce you up and down on his cock. “That’s it baby, just like that.” He said, admiring your movements. “Fuck me like a good girl.”

Your head fell forward, the feeling running through your body getting almost unbearable to handle.

“Jesus, Pierre, you feel so good.” You pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and arched your back, feeling like all eyes were on you in the best way possible.

He watched you in awe as you rode his cock without a care in the world. “Your pussy is so tight baby. So tight for me.” A breathy moan escaped his lips and his face looked like he was in pure bliss. There’s nowhere else he would rather be.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna come.” He said, panicking. You rushed to get off of him as you saw the liquid pool on his abs.

“Did you…?”

“I don’t think I got any inside of you.”

You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. God, you hoped not.

next part

#f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #pierre gasly smut #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fanficfion #max verstappen fanfiction #pg #mv

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hoedorokishoto · 3 years ago

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MHA Characters when you are pregnant/Dads.

Dedicated to my very best friend who is having a hard time at the moment, and I thought some headcannons of dilf my hero characters would cheer her up.

Eijiro Kirishima

The cryer.

Crys when you are having sex to get pregnant, crys when the test is positive, crys while you are vomiting in the toilet and crys when your jeans stop fitting because of your bump.

Assures you that crying is manly and sticks by that.

Fusses over you as soon as you find out, even putting foam bumpers on tables and corners so you do not hurt yourself or your growing bump.

Is so excited to tell his friends. Calling Bakugo immediately after finding out, the pee was still warm on the stick as he dialed.

Yelled into the phone with just random words that had something to do with babies. No actual sentences.

Watches in awe of your body and how it changes. Loves all the stretch marks that you may grow.

Thinks growing a human is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done. Constantly asking weird anatomy related questions.

On that note says things like, “Babe, can you believe my cum helped make this tiny human growing in your stomach!”

As your due date gets closer, watches you like a hawk. Any slight noise you make, makes him thinks it go time. Already at the door with your bags and your just like “I literally yawned.”

When you do go into labour, he is right there next to you. Holding you close as he sits behind you, holding your legs back, your head rolled back and rested against his shoulder.

“You are doing amazing baby.” “God, I fucking love you.” “You are already the best mum in the whole world.”

Crys as soon as your baby is born, crys with you as he leans his head on your shoulder and watches you and your baby have skin to skin.

You wake up to him holding your only hours old baby. Whispering to them how much he loves them and nothing bad is ever going to happen to them and that they are the best thing he has ever done.

Katsuki Bakugo

Gloats when you tell him you are pregnant. “Of course you got pregnant the first time, I’m the best.”

Even though he leaves the room with the biggest goofiest smile on his face.

The night you both find out he starts sleeping with his arm around you and his hand firmly cradling your stomach.

Wakes up before you every morning and makes you food, then hold your hair back as you vomit said food into the toilet.

Complains to no end. But never leaves your side and rubs your back as he puts a cold washer on your forehead. Wiping vomit and spit away from your face.

“We have to tell that old hag! She has been bugging us about having a brat since our first date.” He would say even though he is beyond excited to finally tell his parents.

“I’ve never been more excited! I knew you had it in ya!” This leads to dinner being over and the two blonds yelling back and forth.

Masaru just sits next to you and offers you some tea as his wife and son bicker. Both of you used to it by now.

You tell all his friends eventually. “Congratulation Kacchan!” “Shut up Deku, don’t talk too loud around my unborn child. I don’t want them to catch being a loser!” Even though you see the small hug he accepts out of the corner of your eye.

Keep his phone close to him regardless of what he is doing. Does not want to miss any videos or picture you might send of you bump. Or in case something happens.

Always brings home snacks that you crave. From gummy bears to celery. You name it he buys it. Again he complains and pretends you annoy him but he would do absolutely anything for you.

Wakes you up unintentionally in the middle of the night by spontaneously putting baby furniture together. Pre parental panic finally hitting him as he hammers different pieces of wood together.

“Tsuki? Are you gonna come to bed?”

“I can’t! I’ve got to get this together and then I’ve got to fireproof everything in case the kid gets my quirk and then……”

“Fireproof? You think it’s just gonna blast its way out of me and already have a quirk?” You laughed.

He smiles, finally calming down. Then gets mad again and says not to make fun of him.

Your due date finally comes and still nothing. Even after eating multiple pineapples, bouncing on many exercise balls and having as much sex as you could manage there was still no baby.

10 days later your water breaks and you rush to the hospital.

The baby getting stuck on the way down. Being as stubborn as their father.

You had to be rushed for a C-section. Katsuki never leaving your side. Refusing to go anywhere even as they prepped you.

He looks very good in scrubs.

He stroked your face as he sat next to your head, the large curtain covering anything too gory from both of you.

Flinches when he hears the first cry, looks into your eyes and presses his forehead against yours.

“You did it Teddy bear. You are so fucking tough.”

Let’s a tear slip as he watches the baby get weighted.

Cuts the cord and watched the tiny little human you have made in awe.

He always though he was born to be a hero. Now he thinks he was put here to do this, be the best dad that he can be for his little brat.

Shota Aizawa

Being a dad falls into his lap accidently both times.

First with Eri and second with your 2-year-old daughter.

You met in the girl’s section of a clothing store, him holding up 2 equally as ugly sweaters and looking very confused.

You and your daughter walked up to him and offered him a hand and the rest is history.

Doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have 3 girls that he adores more than anyone else.

Can’t comprehend that anyone would want to treat you or your daughter badly and makes it his mission to treat you right every single day, so you forget all about the past.

Activates his quirk, his hair floating around his face and watches your daughter yell and laugh as she runs around and gets caught up in his capture scarf, Shota just catching her before she hits the floor.

Let’s both the girl’s braid and put bows in his long hair and blush on his cheeks.

You have photos but have been threatened that if anyone sees them, he will have to take drastic action.

Loves watching Eri and your daughter play together. Singing songs and hugging each other as you dance around the living room.

Takes the girls to U.A. to meet his students. All the students cooing over them, saying how cute they are. Midoriya making both of them candy apples as Mirio picks you both up and puts you on his shoulders.

You both fit it. It’s like you were the missing piece and now he is whole.

Starts to think that maybe it’s a good time to give the girls a sibling.

You agree but, in the meantime, you adopt 2 cats, both of them making themselves at home rather quickly.

Shota will forever be thankful that he picked up those 2 ugly sweaters as he looks at his bed which is currently occupied by his 2 daughters, 2 cats and you. Lightly snoring, small hand over your swollen stomach.

#shota aizawa #katsuki bakugo #eijiro kirishima #mha #bnha #bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #aizawa x reader #mha x reader

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vettelsbitch · 3 years ago

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🐄✨??

I swear on Seb's tits this was completely random

Now THIS is a real #i constantly thank God for fireproofs

Send me a 🐄 and I'll share a random image I have saved

#ask game #ask #jay tag #I'm using random number generators please

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 276: Our Turn to Save You

Previously on BnHA: In a refreshing change of pace from the usual “the adults refuse to tell the kids anything” shtick, Deku and Kacchan flew around trying to get Tomura’s attention while refusing to explain jack shit to Endeavor! Deku eventually thought to ask Kacchan why he was getting in on this, and Kacchan launched into a two-page Denial Speech which seemed expressly designed to prime him for losing his quirk any fucking second now! Tomura then showed up and the two of them were all “KJSDLFK” but thankfully Gran dove in to rescue them from dying INSTANTANEOUS HORRIBLE DEATHS, and reminded them that there are practically SIX WHOLE GROWN-UPS left who can definitely still fight Tomura and won’t die at all!! And one of those grown-ups is Aizawa! Who’s getting ready to fight Tomura now! Listen Horikoshi you fucker, when I asked for more Aizawa angst and badassery this ISN’T WHAT I –

Today on BnHA: Tomura is all “THIS QUIRK WON’T STOP ME BECAUSE I CAN’T READ” and sort of shrugs it off and continues to kick ass even though his Decay and AFO powers aren’t working. The pros all try to stop him with Endeavor taking the lead, and because THEY ALL SUCK, APPARENTLY, nothing they do is effective in any way whatsoever! Meanwhile Gran dumps Deku and Kacchan off and is all “YOU’LL BE FINE HERE” which is the most ridiculous thing anyone in this manga has ever said, and then pretty much as soon as he says it at least nine more High Ends (excuse me, NEARLY High Ends) just POP UP OUT OF NOWHERE and are all “RARR” and the heroes are all “oh shit” and Tomura is all “lol yeah I actually had more High Ends this whole time” and Ujiko is all “it’s true!” and, fuck. The chapter ends with Tomura charging in to kill Aizawa only to be intercepted by MY TWO PRECIOUS BABIES, MY DARLING LITTLE HERO HATCHLINGS, and...!! I blame Gran for this.

gotta say, my sense of time is distorted enough as it is these days without chapter leaks coming out A WHOLE ENTIRE DAY EARLY out of nowhere. not that I’m complaining, because I want to see Aizawa kick some ass & immediately lose his fucking quirk as much as anyone, but it is disorienting

anyway time to dive into this chapter which I predict will be titled “everything instantly goes horribly wrong.” I’ve had a lot of time these past two weeks to think about what is going to happen next, and I’m pretty sure I nailed it you guys

so we’re opening with a familiar sight

I like that Horikoshi thinks that helicopters go “chop chop.” well, close enough

anyway, so yet again we have a scene in BnHA of a town in the process of being destroyed by villains while a helicopter whirs (WHIRS, Horikoshi) and chuffs (SOMETIMES THEY CHUFF TOO) anxiously nearby. I wonder if this helicopter is going to fucking disintegrate. that’d be something new

ARE YOU GOING TO DIE, MISTER LIVE REPORTER SIR. OH MAN. OH GOD I’M ANXIOUS

dozens, you guys! there are dozens of them left! not to worry then. the good guys definitely still got this

oh hey it’s that news anchor with the cutely fucked-up backstory of chopping off his own horn so as to more handsomely report the news

oh god don’t tell me this whole thing is going to be broadcast live. that’s all we fucking need right now. I wonder what’s going to throw society into chaos more, the reveal of just how powerful Tomura is now, or the exposure of what the government-mandated child soldiers get to do during their super-educational practical on-the-job training! no coffee-fetching for these kiddos! we’ve got ‘em rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands good and dirty!

oh hey and it looks like this means that All Might will get to watch protege #2 lose his quirk live on TV -- HEY WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

BAD BABYSITTER!! MY GOD MAN, I KNOW YOU’RE THE INDULGENT GRANDFATHER TYPE, BUT MAYBE CONSIDER CHANGING THE CHANNEL TO DOC MCSTUFFINS FOR THE TIME BEING??!

also I know this is just a perspective thing probably but lmao his hand on her shoulder is fucking huge. All Might you been working out again

but seriously this is not good for either of them to witness. they don’t need more trauma in their lives! All Might doesn’t need yet another thing to blame himself over! and he has conflicted feelings about Tomura still on top of that which I’m sure isn’t going to make this any easier. ANGST ALL AROUND. EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK, EVERYWHERE YOU GOOOO

MOTHERFUCKER I --

is Mitsuki looking at fucking baby pictures of Kacchan. reliving the memories of the good old days, thinking about how far her baby boy has come and how proud she is. that’s just great you guys. that’s just fucking great. these aren’t even red flags at this point these are red fucking tapestries

(ETA: and this basically goes without saying, but I’m sure the fact that not one but THREE Todorokis are represented in this little montage means that Endeavor and Shouto are also going to be just fine.)

HE’S SO HAPPY just fucking try and tell me he doesn’t have a mental fucking link to Tomura and Deku you guys. this bitch knows exactly what is going down right now and he is LIVING FOR IT. that does it. someone please save my spot in the chapter for me I am going to go take a quick walk to calm down

and of COURSE that’s a fucking lie though, god -- [frantically clicks to next page]

LOL HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

FUCKING MANUAL IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY LMAO. YOU CAN ALL FUCKING RELAX NOW. and fuck me, I’m so fucking happy RockLockRock is still alive as well but WHY ARE YOU STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO AIZAWA IN WHAT I LIKE TO CALL THE “CAUTION: YOU WILL GET SHOT” ZONE. swear to god Horikoshi THAT MAN HAS A FAMILY don’t you even think��about -- !!

sigh, anyway so then the rest of the page is panels of Gran & The Boys, Endeavor, and Tomura, along with the text “WHICH SIDE IS THE VICTOR”, which is not helping matters any! also the title of the chapter is “Cheating” which I assume is a reference to both the erasure of Tomura’s quirk, and the soon-to-happen permanent removal of Aizawa’s. I’m just an optimist like that

oh hey and Tomura’s sending out some quick orders to his squad as well

and to think this homicidal maniac is in my top ten favorite characters. sob. I do love you kiddo so please don’t take it personally that I have to unequivocally root against you here. maybe if you listened to me once in a while and would even just consider my radical alternate plan of not killing anyone in sight

anyway lol but here everyone including myself thought he was going straight for the bullets and instead he was pulling out his phone. shows what we know. [braces myself for the follow-up panel of him putting the phone away again and THEN reaching for the bullets!!]

meanwhile we’re being introduced to some new sidekick of Endeavor’s who’s probably going to set the record for shortest time in between being introduced and dying horribly. sorry Kido. I’m just jaded

don’t mind me I’m just putting up emotional walls in between myself and any new lovable characters as a means of self-preservation. mmhmm. he can manipulate the trajectory of things. that’s nice. he seems nice. wouldn’t that be a nice quirk for Tomura to steal and then trajector a bullet straight towards Aizawa ffffff

(ETA: watch this space, everyone. Endeavor’s Sidekick Kido. gonna fuck everything up for everyone, mark my words.)

so I can’t help but notice that now that Tomura can’t use his quirk anymore and is helpless, they have all decided to just sit around doing nothing again?

like. far be it from me to openly wonder why they are not immediately knocking him out or setting him on fire again or whatnot. I am just a lowly civilian. it’s not my job to question these things

(ETA: I must learn to be patient.)

also lmao at Manual saying Aizawa’s ankle is “twisted”, similar to how Deku is constantly “twisting” all of his arms and legs all the time. or did he mean “twisted” in the sense that his leg was pretty much literally wrung out like a fucking towel

anyway so Manual is waterbending liquid into Aizawa’s eyes like that’s supposed to help him NOT close them

has Horikoshi ever had water splashed into his fucking eyes. he and I have had very different experiences as to the effects of this apparently

there we go!!

at least someone out here is fucking trying. for a second there I was honestly worried we were going to see a repeat of “oh well he seems dead enough, let’s just leave, see you at the victory party this weekend, X-Less”

LMAO WHAT KIND OF NONSENSE

[GRABS THESE PANELS AND WAVES THEM IN FRONT OF THE UNCONSCIOUS HAWKS] DID YOU HEAR THAT. DO YOU SEE THAT, BOYO. FACTS. BEING WEAK TO FIRE IS, IN FACT, 100 PERCENT A CHOICE. IF YOU HAD JUST DONE MORE PUSH-UPS AND TRAINED HARDER YOU WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW. SMDH. YOU FUCKING WIMP. YOU RECREANT. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED

hooooh man. hokay. whew. has anyone seen my suspension of disbelief. I’m so used to having it on me at all times when I read this manga that I must have let my guard down and now it seems I’ve spaced it out. well we’ll just keep a lookout for it

so now we’re cutting to Ujiko who is gleefully bragging that Tomura’s strength is on par with All Might Prime’s, which is just great. and now he’s also starting this sentence and then just... not... finishing it

that’s fine. you just trail off, then. hang those implications. whatever dude

meanwhile RLR and Manny are helping Aizawa limp away while he awkwardly has to twist his neck around to be able to still keep Tomura in his line of sight. I feel like there was probably a better way for them to do this but whatever

anyway thanks for confirming that Ujiko did make Tomura into a Noumu in addition to giving him AFO, though, Horikoshi! that’s very nice of you to unsink one of my theories like that. appreciate it

and hold up, so it occurs to me that “Being Fireproof” could still be a quirk, but just a mutant-type quirk rather than an activation type, meaning that Erasure would have no effect on it! aha! oh, there’s my suspension of disbelief lol it was in my pocket the whole time!!

anyway so Endeavor and Tomura are tussling but I really wish they’d be more careful because if Tomura is still capable of super strength and super speed then he could propel himself out of Aizawa’s line of sight really easily and I feel like this isn’t really helping

is it just me or do they look like they’re TRYING to jump in between Aizawa and Tomura, like?!?! GUYS

LMAO now Gran is just

SHUP. toss. dusts off hands. well that takes care of that

and apparently he’s under the genuine impression that a mere “now stay put you dumdums” is going to have any effect on these two whatsoever. lol okay. we’ll see

anyways YESSSSS, KACCHAN MEET GRAN, GRAN, KACCHAN

meanwhile Kacchan falls silent as he mentally tries to work out who tf “Toshinori” is lmao. I’M SO CHUFFED ABOUT THIS. YES THAT’S ANOTHER USE OF THE WORD “CHUFFED.” VERY VERSATILE AND REMINISCENT OF HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRLING

and now here’s a convenient map showing how far away Deku and Kacchan are from safety!

thanks for that. that’s so reassuring to have this nifty little visual

OH MY GOD GRAN

DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?? DOES EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING ARC HAVE A DEATH WISH. MY GOD

“BUT FAR BE IT FROM ME TO LEAVE WITHOUT ANY OMINOUS FORESHADOWING!!” NO INDEED WE CAN’T HAVE THAT!!!

rather than focus anymore on how goddamn foreboding that is, I would instead like to take this moment to call attention to the fact that Gran apparently knows Bakugou’s name but not Present Mic’s. that’s amazing

sob

what good indeed. imagine if they couldn’t even do that. I imagine that would have some far-reaching consequences which might even be interesting to explore as part of a story

I made the same face as them just now fyi

fucking Schrodinger’s High Ends. they only exist when the plot says it’s convenient for them to exist. maybe they’re like fairies and if you say you don’t believe in them they drop dead. where the fuck did these things actually come from?!

WAY TO DROP THE BOYS OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF NOUMU FUCKING CENTRAL MY GOOD MAN. MAYBE WE SHOULD SCROLL BACK UP AND UPDATE THAT MAP. GOOD JOB LMAO

WHAT THE FUCK

welp. they deleted Tomura’s quirk and then sent the strongest guy they had after him, annnnnnnd he went and beat him anyway in like two fucking seconds. so that’s. ... wowee. ...so do we have a plan b, or...

like, holy shit though?? and can you imagine the kind of psychological impact this is having on everyone watching this live on TV right now?? this is literally the anti-Kamino. holy fucking shit. also did Tomura lose an arm or am I just not understanding this image right?? NOT THAT IT SEEMS TO BE BOTHERING HIM IN THE SLIGHTEST??

(ETA: somehow I missed the fact that he is even calling attention to it lol. “I’ll raise [the other hand] when it’s back.” fucking look at Mr. Transcendent here who’s so powerful that when you tear his arms off all it does is make him more sassy. is he secretly related to Mirko.)

idk guys I really think my original chapter title was better

at least Endeavor isn’t fucking dead just yet. four more pages and you might actually make it out of this chapter alive my good man

blah blah blah flashback to Ujiko explaining that the Noumu could be activated by an electric current flowing through them, and that they’re programmed to move only on Tomura’s orders. you know. just more good news

oh hey but at least these ones are mindless so I guess it’s okay for the kids to kick their asses without feeling too conflicted. it’s just too bad “their strength is higher quality than the others” but you win some, you lose some

OH GOOD, THEY’RE GOING STRAIGHT FOR AIZAWA

I’M SURE THAT MIDORIYA “MY BODY MOVED BEFORE I COULD THINK” IZUKU AND BAKUGOU “I’M THE ONE WHO’LL GET PAYBACK FOR THAT DAY” KATSUKI WILL TAKE THEIR GRANDPA’S SAGE ADVICE AND GO AND HIDE WHILE THEIR TEACHER IS IN DANGER. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY’VE LITERALLY GONE TO SCHOOL FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR EXPLICITLY MAJORING IN NOT DOING THAT. YES THIS IS FINE THIS IS FUCKING FINE AND GREAT

NOW WHAT’S HAPPENING THERE’S LOTS OF RUBBLE FALLING AROUND AND STUFF MOVING AND SOMEONE IS TALKING

OH IT’S HIM

excuse me. EXCUSE ME. no, you are NOT. going to fucking die, Aizawa Shouta. HORIKOSHI KOUHEI!!! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR THE CRIME OF DRAWING THIS FUCKING PANEL. THIS ONE, RIGHT HERE. YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. HOW DARE YOU. how FUCKING dare you sir

and if anything happens to RLR I SWEAR TO GOD!! you know what?! you know what?!?

STOP IT

[sitting curled up into a little ball with my knees drawn up to my chest, drawing little finger circles on the floor] I see. so he’s not even concerned about himself at all. it’s his two tiny little hero eggs, his problem children, and the fact that if he dies here there won’t be anything preventing Tomura from finding and killing them. ahh. okay. it’s okay. that’s fine

and goddammit what is he pulling out from his belt. everyone is on the same page here, right? Aizawa’s Not Allowed To Die. that was the deal. WHAT HAS THIS ALL BEEN FOR OTHERWISE

(ETA: yeah but he seriously did just pull a knife out of fucking nowhere though like the kid in that fucking vine lmao. APPARENTLY HE’S HAD IT THIS ENTIRE TIME?? “what if I just stabbed him” lulz. based on the way things were trending, I’m willing to bet it would have literally bounced off of Tomura’s chest at this point, but I’ll give him credit for making the effort.)

NOPE NOPE NOPE NO

(ETA: Shinsou being in the bottom corner... ;_; )

is anyone listening to me!??! I’m over here screaming myself fucking hoarse??! AIZAWA ISN’T FUCKING ALLOWED TO DIE??!! HELLO!?!?!

lol well at least RLR didn’t get steamrolled over

well everyone. we’ve reached page 18. one more to go. what are the odds we end with the boys arriving in the ta-da nick of time to defend their teacher. just who is watching over whom

THERE IT IS!!!

OH NO OH GOD AM I CRYING??! YOU HAD TO GO AND PUT THOSE FLASHBACK PANELS IN?? HIM SAVING DEKU AND CO. AT USJ, PLUS THAT ONE TIME HE DEFENDED BAKUGOU DURING HIS MOST VULNERABLE MOMENT IN FRONT OF A NATIONAL AUDIENCE??? “IT’S OUR TURN TO SAVE YOU”???

and they look so determined and desperate?? and the “Aizawa-sensei!” echoing in both their minds?? and meanwhile Aizawa looks fucking horrified though, because of all the... [gestures] you know? the Terrible Danger?? sob??

anyway. I really let this manga do this to me every damn week. let it just have its fucking way with me. at least Horikoshi didn’t end up breaking the law after all. I don’t know if I could continue to support a mangaka who is willing to commit an actual war crime. no touching Aizawa. OKAY?? OKAY

#bnha 276 #aizawa shouta #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #gran torino #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #so what sound do *you* think helicopters make?#I googled this and found some excellent answers #my favorite one was dubdubdubdubdub #but tocotocotoco was a close second #whop whop whop #batabatabata #wuppa wuppa lmao

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omnivorousshipper · 3 years ago

Note

I'm going to send yesterday's ask here, like you said. I'm going to do an Avatar The last Airbender request this time. If it's in your style, could you do a Sokka angst fic after the war where he's really depressed and blamimg himself for a lot of things because of some events that happen gradually, like Zuko and Katara getting hurt and he gets taken with one of the other Gaang members (it could be Toph, Zuko, Aang or Katara) and they both get tortured, but Sokka's turn comes when the other is out cold so they don't know. And because they don't know, he tries to hide it, and when they find out, they yell at him and stuff for worrying them. And could you make it so that his low spirit makes him need some mental healing as well. Wait, do you do angst? If this is too much, you can say then I can change the request. I may have gone overboard. Oh my god, I tend to go far with angst. Please, please tell me if this is much too long and too angsty. If this is too much, please tell me, so I can change it. Umm...have a nice day 😅

I absolutely love writing angst! You’ve definitely come to the right place, friend! I don’t usually write from Sokka’s POV but I love him dearly, just as much as I love the rest of the Gaang! Thanks for this request! And I hope you have a nice day too!

Warning: Brief descriptions of burns and torture

~~~

The courtyard was quiet as Sokka sat on one of the stone benches in the corner and stared at the pond with unfocused eyes. The afternoon sun was warm on his face and arms, and shown on the pond’s surface beautifully. Turtleducks were swimming in circles and playing to their hearts’ content as their mother sat from the pond’s edge. Following the slow circles of the animals, Sokka hunched over and felt the scrolls in his arms start to slip. Not caring, he kept his eyes on the pond.

It had been several months since the war had ended, but somehow the world had gotten even crazier and simply loved to drag Sokka along for the ride.

He had been staying in the Fire Nation for the last two months to help Zuko find people to add to his council. Everyone who had been on his father’s was either power hungry or plain sadistic. As Sokka and Zuko had found out the hard way.

Shivering, the courtyard disappeared for a second as Sokka saw the small dungeon he had been stuck in. His arms chained above his head for hours on end, sweltering heat surrounding him as he heard lava bubble not too far away from him. But the worst part had been watching how much pain Zuko had been in.

Zuko’s arms had been twisted behind his back and forced straight upwards to hang in the middle of the cavern they had been trapped in. Leather bags had been forced over his hands and feet to stop him from shooting out any fire while a leather muzzle had fixed over his face. Sokka had never seen Zuko breath fire, but he knew Iroh and Azula had the ability so it wasn’t surprising their captors were taking every precaution.

Sokka had no idea he had been forced to be a hostage inside a literal volcano, but he would never forget the time he had been in there. Especially when their captor had arrived.

The man was an old general that had been on the Fire Lord’s council ever since Azulon had been in charge. He had sneered when Zuko had come into the council room, telling everyone that they are dismissed and their advice never needed again. Sokka had assumed everyone would listen to the Fire Lord, but apparently he had been wrong.

Instead, the old general had simply blackmailed one of the staff to put something in the tea they had been drinking while talking over potential people for the council. All Sokka had thought was Fire Nation tea tasted weird and ignored the slightly salty taste- they were on an island after all. Sokka wished he had known just how easy it would be to drug the Fire Lord. Maybe then he wouldn’t have let Zuko get captured and hurt.

That was all he could think as he hung suspended in the air across from Zuko. It had been heart wrenching to watch the firebender struggle to get out of his bonds, but only to be left exhausted. He could even see the chains holding Zuko up turn red hot and burn him. He had immediately shouted for his friend to stop.

They had simply hung there after that.

Until the general showed up.

Sokko hadn’t even remember his name back then. He had vaguely recognized the old guy, but didn’t know who he was. He just wasn’t important to Sokka at the moment. Now though, Sokka would never forget his name. General Shakao.

The man had stepped into the cavern, a fierce sneer on his face as he ignored Sokka and stepped right up to Zuko.

“Well, well. How the might have fallen.” The man sneered. “And here I thought Sozan’s line would never let themselves be captured. How pathetic.”

Sokka growled and struggled in his bonds as Zuko tried to kick out at the man. Instead of moving away from the kick, Shakao grabbed Zuko’s ankle. Freezing, Sokka stared at the two.

“I wonder just how much fire your father had to use to give you that scar.” Shakao wondered aloud. “Let’s test it, shall we?”

“No!” Sokka screamed. “Leave him alone!”

His words were completely ignored as Shakao’s face burst into flame and Zuko’s scream could be heard through the leather muzzle. Sokka struggled more and more as he watched, but to no success. He was stuck. He couldn’t do anything. He was so useless!

Sokka could still smell burning flesh.

The torture seemed to go on forever until Shakao had dropped Zuko’s leg. Tears were streaming down Zuko’s face and Sokka wished he could do anything to help him. Why couldn’t he get out of these chains? If only he had more training! He should have asked Suki or even Ty Lee about how to get out of chains. Why didn’t he think? He was supposed to be the guy with the plan!

“So weak.” Shakao chuckled. “And you thought you’d be able to lead our nation? You’re just a weak child!” Once again, Shakao’s hand burst into flame as he punched Zuko straight in the stomach. It only took a few moments for his robes to burn away around Shakao’s fist. Sokka couldn’t take his eyes off the bare skin that was quickly being burned.

“Stop! Tui and La, let him go!” Sokka shouted. But no matter how much he screamed and begged the man, he didn’t stop burning Zuko. This went on until Sokka saw Zuko’s eyes roll into the back of his head, at least half of his body burned horribly from Shakao’s fire. Sokka had no idea how his friend had lasted that long, but he was glad to see he was no longer feeling pain while unconscious.

“How disappointing. No Fire Lord should let themselves be harmed by fire. Disgraceful.”

“Because Fire Lords aren’t fireproof!” Sokka snarled. He wasn’t sure he was happy Shakao finally turned away from Zuko and towards him. Lifting his head, Sokka met Shakao’s eyes and glared harshly. Anything to keep the man’s attention off Zuko.

“And a Fire Lord bringing some water tribe peasant into the palace-!” Shakao snarled.

Before Sokka knew what was happening, a firey punch impacted with his left hip.

Flinching, Sokka could still feel the burned skin. It was constantly rubbing against his clothes along with all the other burns Shakao had left on him: down his thighs, back, and shoulders. Sokka had yet to look at them in the mirror, but he knew they were bad. Almost as if he didn’t have any skin left.

Taking a deep breath, Sokka blinked and saw the young turtleducks had stopped swimming around and were cuddled up under their mother’s wing. When had he stopped paying attention?

Sitting up, Sokka hissed in pain as his back stretched painfully and burned skin pulled tightly. He could feel tears running down his cheeks as he heard the scrolls he had been holding finally fell from his lax grasp.

When he and Zuko had finally been found by the rest of the Gaang, Sokka had told them to help Zuko first. He hadn’t woken up even after Shakao had left them hanging there with their wounds. They had rushed back to the palace and Katara hadn’t left Zuko’s chambers, trying to heal him. Sokka hadn’t bothered her with his own burns; they would heal by themselves, Zuko’s looked far worse.

That had been two days ago and Sokka had tried to distract himself from the pain by looking through any scroll he could get his hands on. This was his fault. He should have noticed the danger Shakao had shown to be. He should have told Zuko to have a royal taste tester as his main advisor.

It was his fault Zuko had gotten hurt.

Gasping for breath, Sokka scrubbed at his face viciously to get rid of the tears. He was a warrior! He should be embracing the pain and not allow it to control him!

“Sokka?”

Flinching hard, he looked up and saw Katara standing in front of him, concern deep in her eyes. He hated seeing his little sister so worried.

“What’s up?” He tried to go for casual but knew he just sounded tired.

“Are you alright? Toph said you were hurt too. Did you visit one of the other healers?” Katara asked gently and sat next to him on the bench.

“Yeah. I wasn’t hurt that bad. Just my shoulders from hanging there for so long, you know.” Sokka shrugged slightly and cringed when even that small motion made his whole back flare up in agony. “But, how’s Zuko? Is he ok?”

“Zuko’s doing better.” Katara sighed. “But he’s really worried about you, Sokka. He says Shakao hurt you.”

“No, I’m fine.” Sokka sent her a smile.

“Sokka…”

Why did she look so blurry all of a sudden?

Taking a shaky breath, Sokka felt his chest tighten and a sob broke through his lips. He realized that tears were running down his face again. He couldn’t stop them. Why? Why couldn’t he stop crying?

Arms wrapped around him and one brushed against his back. Sokka wanted to scream, but instead, a small whimper came out.

“What’s wrong?” Katara whispered as she withdrew her arm. Without waiting for an answer, she lifted his shirt and he could feel the air on his skin. A sharp gasp left her. “Oh, Sokka, I’m so sorry-!”

“It’s nothing!” Sokka rushed to say, but it sounded more like begging. He was fine! They would be worried about Zuko, not him!

“I’m so sorry.”

When had Katara started crying? His baby sister should never cry, especially not over him. He shouldn’t have made her cry.

He could feel her arms wrapping around him again, this time around his neck than back and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her as well. Shoving his face in her shoulder, another sob left him and Sokka could feel himself unraveling.

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!

#avatar the last airbender #atla #sokka #zuko #angst #injury #tw burns #katara #asks #fanfic #omni writes #omni answers

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vetteldixon · 1 year ago

Text

MICHAEL FASSBENDER 2023 24 Hours of Le Mans, by Nico Deumille

#michael fassbender #24h le mans 2023 #wec #porsche #i constantly thank god for fireproofs #listen i am extremely simple

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Thirteen: Just For Tonight

Table of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,660

MASTERLIST

The entrance to the hotel was stylish. The marble floors and golden detailing screamed ‘you can’t afford me’.

Spencer was carrying both your suitcases. The two of you wore sunglasses and hats. It made you laugh at first, the idea of dressing up like undercover superheroes.

“Isn’t it just gonna make us more suspicious?”

“Actually, people tend to glance over those with their eyes or hair obscured. It’s more useful than most people think.”

“Uh-huh.” Bullshit.

So here you were, standing slightly behind Spencer as he talked to the woman at the front desk.

“Hello. Reservation for Chris Kelvin.”

The woman smiled and typed away at the keyboard. Then her face fell.

“Ah. I’m sorry Mr. Kelvin, we did try to get in touch with you. We left multiple messages.”

The FBI had taken your and Spencer’s phones. Something about tracking.

“What, is there a problem with the reservation?” The worry seeped into his voice, and the woman quickly reassured him.

“Oh, no. Well, slightly. You booked a double room but I’m afraid that there’s a bridal convention in town and all the double rooms have been booked up.”

“So, what, you don’t have any rooms?”

That’s not what she said, you thought bitterly.

“No, sir. We’ve had to change your reservation to a single bedroom. But! We are able to knock a few hundred dollars off the price.”

Spencer was silent, gaping at her.

She nervously fumbled through a drawer, looking to sweeten the pot.

“And . . . um . . . I can offer an all-inclusive couple’s spa treatment for you and your wife.”

She pulled out two coupons and handed them to Spencer. He made no move to take them.

As awkward as it was, you recovered enough to lean forward and take the tickets.

“Thank you,” and you hooked your arm around his elbow. “My husband and I appreciate it.”

You pulled him away from the front desk toward the elevator. Once the doors had shut, you let go, taking your suitcase from him.

“Sorry about that,” you said, adjusting your hat. “Figured it was less suspicious to just go along with it.”

He nodded curtly and didn’t say another word until you got to your room.

Despite the warning, you still found yourself surprised by the lone bed in the center of the room. There were two closets, two desks, and even two sinks in the bathroom. Was it that hard to put another bed?

If you weren’t so distracted by the prospect of sleeping with the man you had a crush on in a fancy hotel bed, you might have appreciated how fancy the room actually was.

You busied yourself with hanging up and putting away your clothes. You’d only had time to pack a couple of outfits and two sets of pajamas. The hotel probably had quick laundry machines, though. You weren’t worried.

Spencer, however, was nervously looking through the room, presumably for any kind of cameras or listening device.

Taking off your hat and glasses and throwing them on the desk, you said, “J.J. said they already did a sweep of the room.”

“Yeah, well, J.J. knows everything, right?” he spat bitterly, throwing his arms up.

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him. He melted under your gaze, realizing how harsh he’d been.

“I’m sorry that was . . . I’m sorry. I’m a bit stressed. J.J. just . . . sometimes she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Before the two of you had left for the hotel, J.J. had pulled Spencer aside for a moment, whispering to him so you couldn’t hear. Afterward, he seemed agitated, more snappy. Did she say something about me? No. She wouldn’t. Right?

“It’s okay,” you said calmly, checking out the gorgeous bathroom — could a bathroom be gorgeous? — “I know all about being stressed. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he said quickly, an automatic reaction. “No, thank you, but I’m ok.”

“Okay,” maybe it was best not to press the issue. Only now did you register how dark it was outside. How had that much time passed since this morning? Maybe all the questions and consent forms you had to deal with forced your brain into autopilot, making time move faster. “I’m gonna get changed.”

A few minutes later you came out of the bathroom, wearing a large sleep shirt and underwear. You couldn’t bother with pajama pants right now. Besides, he’d seen you in your underwear before. It wasn’t crossing a line. Right?

He took one look at you and said, “I’ll make the request for a rollaway bed.” and picked up the phone on the nightstand.

“No!” he looked at you, waiting for an explanation. You had to think quickly to find one. “I mean, won’t that be suspicious? If they think we’re a married couple. . . .”

After analyzing you for a moment, he sighed and put the phone down.

“You’re right. I’ll take the floor.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to take the floor. We’ve had this conversation.”

“I can’t handle being . . . I’ll be fine, thank you.”

It was so sad to watch him pull the pillows from the sofa to the floor, covering them with a blanket and taking a pillow from the bed. Did he not want to sleep with you that bad? Did he not like you that much?

“Please . . .”

God, you were pitiful. This man was practically begging to stay away from you but you persisted. But he had asked to stay assigned to you. And what was that about not handling? The mixed signals were pulling your heart this way and that, constantly unsure of what to do next, of what was too far.

But Spencer looked at you with that same something in his eyes you’d seen before. You knew it was more than . . . whatever you currently had. It was greater than wanting, than hoping. The gravity of it hit you harder than you’d expected and as you stared into his dark hazel eyes, you felt your own beginning to well up with tears.

His face fell and he got up from the floor and sat on the bed, arms finding their way around you, coaxing you to lay down with him.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed into his dress-shirt.

“Shh,” he ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing it out and gently untangling it. It was a gesture filled with affection, adoration . . . love?

“I’m just so . . .” the words escaped you, but Spencer pulled back and looked at you, eyes probing yours, a slight smile on his lips.

“I know,” was all he said.

And in that instant, you knew. You knew absolutely the very last thing that would ever matter. That you were utterly, truly in love with Spencer Reid. And there was no way you could ever be together.

Somehow, the expression on your face must have shown your realization, for his own countenance shifted to one of understanding. His smile was gone but he wasn’t frowning. He was looking at you in a whole new light.

The moment broke when you thoughtlessly glanced at his lips. His perfect, pink lips that he constantly licked and bit. He pulled back slightly, not breaking eye-contact.

You didn’t have to speak but you did anyway. Barely a whisper.

“Spencer . . .”

“We can’t. I’m—”

“I know.”

But you continued staring at each other. You decided to test the waters by leaning in ever so slightly. His eyes widened but he didn’t protest or back away. But it wasn’t a ‘yes’.

Your lips were inches apart, slightly open, the two of you breathing heavily.

“Just for tonight,” you said, brushing your mouth against his ever so gently, barely making contact, but just enough to force a soft moan from his throat.

“Y/N . . . we really can’t.”

“Spencer.” You took his hand firmly in yours. “Just for tonight. Once. No more. And we can forget about it.”

It was a lie and you both knew it. If you kissed, not as part of some plan or distraction technique, but for real, neither of you would ever forget it.

“Just for tonight?”

You nodded, placing a delicate hand on his cheek, making him gasp so softly, leaning into it.

“Just for tonight. Once.”

“Just for tonight.”

And he closed the gap between you, your lips meeting in a surge of fire and sparks. The kiss went through you, echoing in your bones. He was electricity against you. He was light.

His lips slowly pressed against yours and he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open so he could delve deeper. It was more than a kiss. It was the release of all the tension and feelings that had built up over the few weeks you’d known him. You tried with all your might to convey the love you felt for him, biting his lips, pulling his hair, and yanking him closer to you.

Neither of you wanted to break it. You’d said only once. The moment it was over . . . it would be over.

But soon you were both out of breath, mouths hanging open against one another, too scared to pull away to see the others' reaction.

Simultaneously, you pulled back, staring at each other, trying to analyze your reactions. A slight smile found its way to your lips, provoking Spencer to share in it.

You wanted to lean in again. To say ‘fuck it’ and have him right here, right now, in this bed. To have all of him and give him all of you. But you’d said only once. Just for tonight.

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And you turned around, snuggling into him as you had before. Only this time, there was more to it. More than could be described with words.

You’d said ‘just for tonight’, probably hoping that it would somehow apply to the feelings you had as well. Come morning, you would discover that wasn’t how love worked. That wasn’t how love worked at all.

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13 @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @matthewreid @perverted-guardian-angel @boiled-onionrings @rainsong01 @the-lovely-emma-swan @andiebeaword @itsmoony @cielo1984 @baby-i-am-fireproof @mendesminimuffin @fukyouthink

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #fluff #criminal minds #jennifer jareau

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gay-ghostwriter · 3 years ago

Note

HAPP BIRTHDAAAA!!!!! Can you give us five random facts about each of your OCs?

Thank you!!!

Dante Olympios: (Disney Descendants)

-Dante is a pyromaniac, it's a child of Hades thing

-If Hades wasn't living on the Isle of the Lost, Dante would have his own imp minion (I like to think it'd be named "Agony")

-He's actually kind of afraid of Zeus and Hercules

-He built his guitar out of scrap metal and shoe strings. He doesn't actually know how to play a real guitar

-Ben had to find fireproof bedsheets for Dante's room before the VKs came to Auradon

Quinn Heart: (Disney Descendants)

-She was originally supposed to be a daughter of Gaston named Gabriella, and her story arc would've been about learning that she doesn't have to be a perfect housewife

-Quinn is afraid of animals. All animals. Even the cute ones.

-She does not know how to play croquet! The Queen of Hearts refused to play with actual wooden croquet mallets

-Quinn is the only one of the VKs who is actually close to their parents. The King and Queen were very doting, they just failed in other areas

-She's a lesbian but doesn't figure it out before coming to Auradon because she was raised to believe that princesses had to marry princes (no one ever told her about marrying for love)

Britches Anarcy: (Panty and Stocking With Garterbelt)

-Younger brother of Panty and Stocking, and got kicked out of heaven for being a bloodthirsty rage machine

-He can turn pants into a battleaxe

-Britches, unlike his sisters, actually tries to act like an angel. And he can pull it off, until something makes him mad

-His song on the soundtrack would be called "Trigger Happy"

-Britches and his sisters do not get along. They call him "Bitches" and tease him, he thinks he's better than them but really isn't.

Midas: (Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss)

-Son of Mammon, he's like an evil version of Charlie

-Uptight, stuffy, overly formal. Corrupt business executive aesthetic

-He was responsible for Loo Loo Land, and is constantly trying to one up the other princes of hell

-Currently building his own hotel in Pentagram City that acts as the opposite of Charlie's

-Has a thing for Angel Dust, who can't remember him, despite meeting multiple times

Dean of the Fur Kingdom: (Cursed Princess Club)

-Actually listens to Prez's lectures on politics

-The Fur Kingdom has strict laws against magic, which is why no one tried to fix Dean's antler curse

-Like an actual deer, he's easily startled and runs away from problems (and social interaction)

-He does not care about getting his curse lifted, and is happy being a member of the club

-Saffron doesn't know Dean has a crush on him, or that Dean exists, because they've never spoken

Jordan Zaman: (Young Justice)

-Superhero name is "Loki Liesmith", his power is copying other people's powers (like Rogue from the X Men)

-Terminally online zoomer, he's very quiet and tries not to draw attention to himself as a civilian, but hams it up as a hero

-Falls in love easily

-Obsessed with a webcomic called "Pantheon High", which reimagines various gods as angsty high schoolers. His favorite character is the comic's version of Loki

-secretly (to even himself) destined to become a supervillain named Ragnarok, who ends up killing Doctor Fate

Clair Maxwell: (Young Justice)

-Superhero name "Ember", Homo Magi with fire magic

-She's afraid of fire! Oops

-Parents gave up their magic when they moved from Africa to America, were hoping Clair wouldn't have any if they pretended they never did

-Always has her nose in a book, and will read anything that involves swordfighting women (she's a sword lesbian)

-Doesn't know how to take compliments

#long post #my ocs #i don't know if you meant five facts in total #or five for each character #but i'm doing the second one because it's fun

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peteywillproceed · 5 years ago

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Photobooths

Author’s Note: Hi guys! Thank you so so much for all the support on Kiss Me! That was my first post on here and I was so nervous :) I’ve had this idea stuck in my head since Youth by Troye Sivan came out, but I never actually finished it (yay for drafts!) Still don’t really know what it is, but anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy it x

Summary: “When the lights start flashing like a photobooth, and the stars exploding, we’ll be fireproof” - You and Tom have been friends for years, even if you have been keeping your feelings a secret. Sometimes all it takes is being drunk off your ass to finally get the answers you didn’t know you needed...

Word Count: 3,150

The camera clicked and you were blinded, the silly moustache Tom had stuck on your upper lip falling half-way across your mouth as the heat from the lights made you sweat. It was cramped in there, the faded black seat cracked and peeling and the touch screen photo selector taking ages to register your choice. You hadn’t been in a photobooth in years, too smelly, too dirty, too boring. But the alcohol coursing through your body had made short work of any reservations you may have had, too intoxicated by the boy tugging you towards it to care.

“I want the beer goggles too, Y/n,” Tom whined beside you, reaching up to tug them from your eyes. You glanced sideways, swaying in your seat and steadying yourself against his shoulder.

“Take ‘em them,” you mumbled, smiling as he practically snatched them from your head and shoved them over his eyes.

“Best. Birthday. Ever.”

You giggled, too drunk on alcohol and his presence to care. “It’s your party, dipshit.”

You’d known Tom since year 10, and you’d lived with him whilst you were at Uni, grateful for the rent-free place whilst you were broke. You didn’t know when your feelings for Tom had changed, all you knew was you’d woken up one day and wandered into the kitchen, following the smell of pancakes and bacon. And bam, there he was, shirtless over the oven, towel flipped over his shoulder and sending you a slow grin like he’d planned it all. You were pretty sure that was the day everything had changed, but honestly it could’ve been years ago.

You giggled as the screen slowly counted backwards from three, feeling like you were floating far up in the sky. Tom might have asked you to pull a stupid face, but you were so concentrated on the way his lips were moving that you barely registered it. His hands slid into your hair, threading through the strands and made a peace sign behind the back of your head. You scrunched your nose up and dragged the bright pink feather boa over your mouth, pouting in a drunken attempt to look sexy.

“What are you doing?” Tom laughed as the camera clicked and you were dazzled by the lights again.

“Lookin’ sexayyyyyy,” you threw your hands in the air, frowning at the screen “We only have one more picture left!”

Tom licked his lips, trying to meet your eyes. “Guess we’d better make it special one, then.”

If you’d been sober enough to catch the double meaning, maybe you would have been prepared for what came next. But as the camera started counting down for its final shot, Tom grabbed your chin and turned you towards him, pressing his lips gently against yours just as the click rang in your ears.

For a second, you thought about nothing but the way his lips were moving on yours, the sheer fire that snapped you out of your drunkenness and spread over your skin. You shivered as he cupped your cheek, sure the photo had been taken, but the noise of the party outside had faded and it was just the two of you, your lips moving in time to whatever music was blaring through the speakers.

A strange sensation came over you, the photobooth and Tom’s face beginning to spin, and you jerked backwards at the feeling.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I um…I don’t know where that came from,” Tom stammered, wiping his palms against his jeans.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t him, but blackness was appearing at the corner of your eyes, begging you to fall into the void that awaited. You could see Tom’s mouth moving, desperation crawling into his face, and you tried so hard to make your own form the words you wanted to say. But the tiredness was overwhelming, and soon you were falling into nothing, barely noticing when your head hit the floor of the booth, and Tom crouched over you in panic.

***

The next morning, your eyes opened to a dim room and the scent of caffeine wafting up your nose. Groaning, you tried to sit up, grabbing your head as it began to throb. Dribble ran down one side of your cheek and your hair stood on ends, but as you rubbed your eyes and allowed them to focus, the steaming mug of coffee and two advil tablets placed carefully on the side table drew a smile from you.

You leaned over and choked back the tablets, taking a gulp of the black liquid and savouring it on your tongue. You tried to think back through the mist and fog of last night, remembering basically everything up until you’d gone in that stupid photobooth with Tom. God, you didn’t know why you’d done that, but he’d seemed so excited and it was a chance for you two to be alone, something you hadn’t had in months. You’d have been lying if you’d said you didn’t enjoy the proximity.

“Morning sleepy head,” a familiar, velvety voice whispered.

Looking up, your eyes found Tom’s, and you groaned at the noise. “What time is it?”

“One in the afternoon,” he looked over his shoulder and laughed as he strode towards the curtains and threw them open. “Time to get up.”

“Ugh, Satan,” you mumbled, crashing back into the soft duvet.

“Y’know, I took the day off to keep an eye on you, the least you could do is not compare me to the King of Hell.”

“Sorry, your majesty.”

“Better.”

“Wait you took the day off today?” You frowned, running your fingers through your hair.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I? You were drunk off your arse and I didn’t want you to choke on your own vomit.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime,” he grinned, scratching the back of his head. Bizarrely, he kept shifting from foot to foot, like he was trying to decide whether or not to sit down.

“The bed’s not made of lava, y’know,” you blinked, patting the space next to you “you can sit down.”

He nodded, still not moving, rubbing the side of his face as your confusion grew. “Y/n, I think we should talk about last night.”

“Last night? I don’t remember most of it,” you brought the coffee cup to your lips and took another gulp, eyes never leaving Tom’s. “Why? Did something happen?”

Tom’s eyes widened as he moved to sit next to you, a frown appearing on his face. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“Nope, sorry,” you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders as you ran a fingertip around the rim of the mug. “Is there something I should remember?”

You started racking your brain, wondering if he’d told you something you should have remembered or pointed someone out to you. If you were being honest, the most you remembered of the night was drowning in his eyes and paying no attention to any of the songs the rather terrible DJ was playing. You tried not to think about how he’d looked in that suit, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and the burgundy jacket that showed off his arms. Right now, he was in his pyjamas, slung loosely at the hips and barely concealing what you knew was there – you couldn’t decide which look you preferred.

Tom looked at you for a long moment, something that looked like pain dancing behind his eyes. You bit your lip and cocked your head, wondering whether someone had said something to him and you’d forgotten. “Shit, Tom, was something said?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he blurted, sighing audibly. “It doesn’t matter, just forget it.”

“Are you sure?” You raised an eyebrow, convinced you were missing something. “Something’s not right.”

“Nah, I’m cool, don’t worry about it,” Tom shrugged, and started to walk towards the door.

“Do you wanna get dressed and go catch a movie? You never have a day off, you shouldn’t have to spend it looking after me.” Maybe you were trying too hard, but the little pinch at the top of his brow made your heart hurt, and all you wanted to do was reach out and smooth it over. And preferably punch whoever had been there in the first place.

He shook his head. “No, I think I’m just gonna go to work.”

“But you took the day off!”

“There’s always something to do,” he laughed, the sound hollow and sad.

“Okay…” you nodded, the coffee cup shaking in your hand. “If you’re…if you’re sure.”

With a final nod, he turned and disappeared from your room, leaving you staring after his retreating back. Whatever had happened there, you wished you could have made it better. Maybe if you could remember what he meant, you’d be able to put the pieces back together and stitch up his clearly broken heart. Seeing Tom upset was like losing a piece of yourself, and until he was fixed you’d be constantly searching for a way to cheer him up.

Half an hour later, you heard the front door slam and the distant sound of his feet ringing on the steps as he left. For some reason, you felt empty, like when he left he took a piece of you with him. All you wanted to do was curl back up in the bed and fall asleep, but it was no use staying cooped up here if there was nothing to do. Sighing, you got to your feet and grabbed your hairbrush, shrieking when you saw the state it was in.

No wonder Tom had practically run away, you had a bird’s nest on your head.

***

Three Months Later

“Tom?” you called out, kicking the front door shut with your foot. “Can you help me?” Grocery bags were piled high in your hands, oranges spilling on the floor as you struggled into the kitchen.

“Here love, let me,” he swept in and gathered the three heaviest ones into his arms. “Harry’s here by the way.”

“Hi Harry,” you yelled “are you the one eating all my chocolate digestives?”

“nrgrnej,” Harry mumbled, stepping into the kitchen with half a biscuit hanging out of his mouth.

“Typical!”

“Can’t help it they’re so delicious,” he shrugged, looking at you with his hands raised.

Laughing, you shook your head and waved your hand in the direction of the bags. “As payment, you can pack those away.”

“Yes, sir!”

You walked into the living room, expecting the bomb that followed Harry everywhere to have crash landed in there too. Sure enough, pillows and blankets were strewn everywhere, the telly was blaring and biscuit crumbs were scattered everywhere, crunching beneath your feet as you stepped into the room.

You couldn’t help the eyeroll that followed, starting the clean up job that would otherwise have taken hours later on. Every so often, you’d come across one of Tom’s socks or a pen he had chewed on whilst making notes on a script, and you smiled at how tidy he was. As you started to finish up and the boys packed away the final can of peas, you noticed Tom’s script thrown on the floor, the bookmark he’d been using turned face up against the grey carpet.

Gingerly, you picked the script up and tucked your finger in the page he’d been reading, then flipped the bookmark over. You smiled as you realised these were the pictures you’d taken in that photobooth all those months ago, probably too drunk to remember to pick them up. But Tom had remembered, like he always did, and a slow grin crept across your face as your eyes trailed across the photos, tracing memories you didn’t know you had.

Until the last one.

The last one you couldn’t remember, but it was clearly there, in black and white, staring you in the face. Your lips on Tom’s. Tom’s lips on yours. And suddenly everything he’d said the morning after, how he’d wanted to talk to you and the hurt look on his face when you said you couldn’t remember anything, came shooting back all at once. You took in a deep breath, hearing noises at the door, and looked up with tears in your eyes.

“Y/n?” Tom said, panic lacing his voice “What’s wrong?”

He ran his eyes over you, freezing as he finally saw what you were holding. You held it out in a trembling hand, lips shaking as you asked him what it was.

“I think I better go,” Harry mumbled, turning for the door. “I’ll call you later mate.”

Tom didn’t reply, still not breaking your gaze and for the first time in the entire time you’d known him, you didn’t have a fucking clue what was going through his mind.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” he stammered.

“Why not?” Your voice was barely a whisper, the image of what you had wanted so desperately for years still seared into your mind. How could you have forgotten something like that? Something so cataclysmic and beautiful? You’d kissed Tom – and you had forgotten.

“You said you couldn’t remember…I figured you didn’t like it.”

“I was drunk, you idiot!” You hissed, waving the piece of paper in his face “I definitely wanted to know this happened.”

“But why?” he asked, and you stared at him like he was insane until he clarified. “You didn’t remember it, and you passed out before we could talk about what it meant. And in the morning, when you couldn’t remember, I figured maybe you’d just supressed it, and you didn’t want to think about it.”

Your mouth dropped open, thinking about how all this time the man you were in love with had thought you didn’t want to remember your kiss. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

“You really thought I wanted to forget that?”

“Didn’t you?”

“NO! Oh my God, you are blind!” you groaned, dropping the strip of photos. It fluttered to the floor between you, the chasm of space feeling miles across yet only centimetres deep. “I’m freaking in love with you Tom, I’ve been in love with you for years, I didn’t want to forget that!”

His eyes were wide with shock, and his mouth kept moving like he wanted to say something. But you were done with wondering whether he felt the same; you’d kissed and now you felt like you could finally let it all out, what you’d bottled up since that day with the pancakes. What only his mum had heard when she’d found you crying on the kitchen floor the day Tom announced he was seeing someone new. What you’d scribbled about ferociously in diary upon diary, convinced you were stupid and he would never see you the same way.

You were done with the pretending, had been for years, and now was your chance to finally say what you’d only thought about in your dreams.

“I fall asleep at night and I think about you, I wake up and you’re the first person I want to see. When you go away filming I sneak into your room and fall asleep there because it’s the only place that smells like you. I’ve spent hours crying over you, sounding pathetic because I was too scared to tell you how I felt. And then this happens, and you don’t tell me about the one thing that could have changed everything! I had to find out through some stupid photo that you didn’t even mean for me to see!”

By the time you were finished, tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were panting with exhaustion, relief washing over you as you finally let go of the deepest secret you’d ever had. Tom said nothing, his mouth parted in shock, and you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, wishing you could just fall through the floor and never come back.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you, gently pulling you into a hug so tight you could hardly breathe. His breathing stuttered against you, and you pulled away so that you were looking him in the eye, your faces only inches from touching. Exactly like that night in the photobooth, only now you could remember every part of this. And you would for years to come.

“I didn’t know that,” Tom’s voice cracked, and your heart broke at the desperation slipping through his lips. “I didn’t know you felt like I did.”

“Like you did?” Your breathing stopped, and you didn’t dare believe you’d heard him right.

Taking a deep breath, Tom gripped your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye, all the bravado stripped back until he was just Tom. Your Tom. “Y/n L/n, I have loved you since the day I met you. Since the day you walked into that classroom, and I haven’t looked back. I never thought you felt the same, and I kept it bottled up for years. For a while, I thought I was over you, but my mum reminded me that love isn’t something that can fade just because you have a replacement.”

“If I could have anyone, I’d still choose you. I’d still choose your stinky morning breath and bed head, the way you can’t cook and the way you can’t stand tomatoes on your sandwich but you love ketchup. I’d choose your body and your mind, you heart and your soul, because you have meant everything to me since the day you first sat next to me in class, and I haven’t seen anything as beautiful since.”

You blinked, barely able to absorb the words let alone process them. You’d dreamed of him saying these words for years, and yet now that you were finally hearing them, it felt less romantic than it was sad.

“You’ve loved me too? All this time?” you choked, letting the realisation wash over you.

“All this time, and more too,” Tom replied, his voice low and thick with emotion.

“And that night in the photobooth?”

You held your breath, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer. For once, your future was out of your hands, and it lay in the balance of a boy you had loved in private for years. You were quite literally on a knife’s edge, and whichever way you fell you had to hope there was someone to catch you.

“That night in the photobooth was the greatest decision I ever made,” Tom replied. “You’re the greatest decision I ever made.”

Maybe you would’ve heard what he was going to say next, but you no longer cared as you flung yourself towards him and let your lips collide. As electricity sparked against your skin, you found yourself slipping once more into the dark abyss, but this time you were ready. This time the only thing you were drunk on was the scent of Tom – and this time, you were never letting go.

#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #fluff #angst #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfic #peter parker fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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