#i was fine with Lost having a shit plot

[taffingspy]

RS3's story problems these past few years is a great example of "boring characters cannot carry a good plotline"

[stacy-fakename]

Rat Grinders:Don’t do anything to the Bad Kids until antagonized, and it’s later revealed that their bad actions were a result of being groomed by one of their teachers for years and then murdered and possessed.

Intrepid Heroes:Fuck you, sending you to hell and you can’t be revived.

[yrbutchgf]

and like in the middle of feeling this way im also like im living on my own in the city i wanted to live in with a beautiful cat i was over the moon to adopt, there's food in my fridge and blankets on my bed and shoes on my feet, like genuinely what is there to be upset about. but also this is the third day in a row ive burst into tears sitting on my couch

[mejomonster]

To get good at telling stories... writing stories... one must... practice by writing stories ;-;

[vaugarde]

last magireco bitching post for tonight i promise but i think all those people who complain that sayaka and homura are abusive and horrible and unreasonable for the crime of being manipulated and traumatized 14 year olds in awful situations and arent perfect little victims about it should go watch magireco and have their brains implode bc i think yachiyo is like. so much worse

[ajdrawshq]

hi . i (mostly) finished the game. if u couldnt tell

[sketchy-mf]

BITCH I WARNED YOU

LI KE I WARNED YOU FOR ARMADA

YOU SWEET SUMMER CHILD FULL OF HOPE LMFAOOOO

These are pretty much making themselves at this point

[kisseobie]

car sex w/ piwon? them dropping you off to your house after hanging out at the dorms at night, and you start staring at their hands gripping the wheel for a bit long.. and things just develop (im a car girl don't blame me 🙏)

car sex with p1harmony

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: car sex is one of my biggest kinks so i’m def not judging girl :P oh also i’m dedicating this to my new bff @whimperly go support bella’s blog

listening to: diet pepsi by addison rae ♪

✶ keeho

kyo would look soooo delectable driving, especially late at night. you’re fighting sleep, the streetlights bright and hazy. he’s on aux, blasting sensual songs and humming along, reversing with his arm draped on your headrest for support, leaning his head back and driving with one hand. your window is down, your head peeking out slightly to bask in the cool air hitting your face, getting drunk on the feeling. you glance at your boyfriend and he catches it, smirking at you before turning his attention back to the road—but you can’t focus on anything but him. the air in the car is different now, you both already know where this is heading. when he eventually pulls into your driveway and halts the car, you’re wasting no time and pulling him into a needy kiss, whimpering out a crazed “i need you, kyo”, to which he just replies “bet” and gets to fucking work.

fucks you deep in the backseat of his fancy car, gives no care in the world for the mess you both are making, just wants to pound into your pussy until you’re whining out his name. the music is still on, ac on full blast, but it does nothing to prevent his sweat dripping onto your bare chest with every deep thrust of his practiced hips. after a few rounds of lovemaking i’d imagine he’d just lay with you, pulling your back to meet his chest, playing with your hair and stroking your tummy so sweetly <33 you two would quite literally get lost in each other

✶ theo

for yangie i’d imagine you both would be at a drive inn theatre date, the movie long forgotten as you’d be more preoccupied in swapping spit in his backseat. he’s wearing that leather jacket you oh so love, hair long and groomed and simple studs adorning his ears… tl:dr—he looks fine. at first it would start innocent, theo kissing your cheek as you got lost in the plot of the film, but he’d eventually grow bored and start sucking into the nape of your neck, not missing the way you’d rub your thighs together at the contact. after an impromptu makeout session, he’d whisper some shit into your ear about finding you much more interesting than the movie, and you couldn’t help but agree, wanting to see where this would lead the two of you.

so where did you both end up? fucking like rabbits in the back of his car of course! the movie had already ended, parking lot of the outdoor theatre now completely vacant, but the two of you don’t really notice, not when theo has your legs draped over his shoulders as he slams into your puffy cunt, thumb circling against your clit so harshly you feel lightheaded. he’s grunting so fucking loud, pupils blown out with lust as he just thrusts and thrusts, despite already cumming a few times. the car is foggy with the stench of sex, cherry cola slurpees, and theo’s cologne. you’re sobbing, tears drooping down the sides of your face and puddling against your ears, hair, and of course, his car seats. it’s just soooooo gross and so animalistic but he can’t stop :(

✶ jiung

eats you out, knee deep.. in the passenger seat (thank u chappell roan). i feel like he’d be all horny at the dorms, but wouldn’t do anything about it because he knows you two aren’t alone in the space (def is uncharacteristically handsy though). it doesn’t help that he hasn’t fucked you in weeks because of how hectic group promotions have been, and that you came over to the dorms wearing the tiniest little skirt he’s ever seen. when it’s time for you to leave, he doesn’t turn the car on, doesn’t pull out of the dorm driveway before occupying your space, kissing you deep and descending down to your legs. the tight space is cramped for sure, but he doesn’t really give a fuck, not when he has you above him, panties wet and in his line of vision. presses little kisses onto your clothed pussy, loving the way you’re already pulling at his hair and mewling at such little contact.

eats you out so slowly it makes you insane, no amount of you begging him to “just fuck me already!” halting the lazy way he devours your cunt like it’s his last meal. after all, he deserves this after working so hard, so just shut up and take it :( isn’t mean enough to not fuck you though, he’s not strong enough to dismiss your begging forever. doesn’t bring you to the backseat like you’d expect, he just towers over you and fucks you right into the passenger seat. complains cutely the next day that he’s cramped and sore, but it was worth it ^_^

✶ intak

lovesssss car sex to the point where you’re already anticipating it everytime you two are on a drive alone. it just makes him feel so dirty in the best of ways, the way he can’t control himself around you, the way your pussy squeezes his dick in a vice grip with every thrust, how his cum drips out of you onto his leather seats. i also imagine intak would want to film himself fucking you in his backseat, giving you the nastiest backshots known to man as he makes eye contact with the camera, smirking at how you attempt to hide your face in embarrassment. definitely talks you through it, especially when you ask so kindly to ride him in the backseat :P praises you for taking his dick so well, for letting him fuck you somewhere where anyone could find you both.

his favorite sight though? definitely the image of your bare tits pressed against his windows when he’s pounding into your sloppy cunny. makes him feel like the man, for sure. and on the rare occasion that you’re the one asking to fuck in his car? he’s so giddy, knowing that he’s corrupted his little princess and turned her into a cockwhore :D

✶ soul

i can’t write this prompt for soul and not include the reader giving him head! you’d just be sooo appreciative and full of love for your boyfriend sho, he was so nice to you today, bought your entire saved cart on your favorite online shopping site, purposely let you win when playing smash bros with you, ordered takeout to his dorm and hand fed you :( you feel the need to thank him, to reward him for being such a sweetie pie, and what says thank you better than some sloppy toppy? he’d be sososo shy, begging you to let him park before you unbuckle his pants but you’re too desperate to make him feel good!! when he parks into your driveway he lets go of his coy attitude, fully fists your hair and pushes your head against the base of his cock to the point where you’re loudly gagging against his shaft. when you pull up for some much-needed air you’re beaming at him, giving him the widest smile and wasting no time in dropping back down to your previous position.

i can practically hear shota praising you with a satisfied “atta girl, suck this fucking cock”, cumming into your mouth, and roughly fingering you afterwards as thanks for being such a thoughtful girlfriend :O

✶ jongseob

this def isn’t for everyone but i’m so obsessed with the idea of jongseob being your dealer and boyfriend all in one. he’d drive you to some empty park late at night, would smoke a few pre-rolls with you on the abandoned swings, and get horny and lead you back to his car. the pair of you are stumbling into the backseat, dizzy and giggly, making out with urgency (and some sloppiness) and peeling off each others clothes until you’re both fully naked. ride him while he lights up another joint, it’d be sooo sexy. oh and of course he’d let you take the first puff, would gladly let you grab at his face afterwards and push the smoke into his mouth before crashing your plump lips against his. the effects of the weed has your hips slightly uncoordinated, but none of you really care. seob would smack your ass as encouragement too :3

like keeho, i think afterwards you’d both just lay there, fully bare, cuddling, kissing, and smoking in a comfortable silence. maybe even nap until seob is okay to drive you back home <3 and like i always say, i’m convinced he’d take some polaroid of you, sat on his cock, smoking a joint and staring at the camera all slutty ..

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @dprvivi @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04 @lunepoesie @haku-s0ultrain @tkooooop @taehyux

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

✶ <3

[erinwantstowrite]

Dick and Tim would be REALLY good on reality tv,,, they're both charismatic (please do not forget that Tim makes friends/allies easily just like Dick can), handsome, CLEVER, and know how to play to a persona. i think they'd go on shows for fun and to de-stress. like one too many things piss them off in their daily lives and they could pretty much get a vacation from it just to go on these shows. no one in the family can talk to them and they get to annoy people, crack jokes, and get fun puzzles in the form of a literal puzzle or figuring out social dynamics of the other players.

sometimes they go on shows by themselves but mostly use it as a brotherly bonding activity. if it's a show where they can be a duo they're GOING to do it. and they're going in to play to a storyline, not to win. they don't need the money, they don't need the publicity, they just want to have fun. sometimes if they figure out that everyone on the show sucks and they get competitive, they'll win. but mostly their goal is "how can we make the funniest plot line look the most natural." or something like that. i know a producer LOVES to see them coming. i bet EVERYONE tunes in when they're on a show because they're fucking hilarious even if half of what they say are inside jokes. the rest of the family watches and they KNOW what those shits are pulling, they have betting pools where they guess what the two are gonna do next, they're the FIRST to make memes for both internet and for the family group chats.

one time they convinced Bruce to go (it's been many a years since he really had to play up the Brucie role, cause he's a dad now and the older he gets the more people expect him to mellow out, and even back when he was full Brucie, reality TV wasn't his thing). it was one of those survival based shows where you come is as a team and try to win together. Bruce got lost in the woods after going on a hike. The camera men literally lost him and Tim and Dick were playing it up for the camera. Dick cried and invited the other teams to a funeral. Tim had a speech that was basically "I think he's fine but this is my perfect opportunity to embarrass my dad with stories." The producers were like "we fucking killed Bruce Wayne oh my fucking god" and Bruce shows up at the funeral like "oh what a beautiful service my boys are so great." They won by pure luck and circumstances and they were actively TRYING to lose that game. They were gobsmacked at the end and everyone uses the moment they looked at each other in confusion and shock as reaction gifs

[homunculus-argument]

Huh. I figured out a way to solve a language issue that I had in The Book I'm Not Writing, that clears out some tangles that I hadn't really even thought of solving. Language barriers and different writing systems.

The first draft of the book featured two languages: The language spoken by the imperialist 'elite classes', and the common tongue spoken by the common people. It was a plot point that the protagonist - who was shipped to the Empire when he was 10 years old - learns to speak both of them fluently, but speaks Imperial like a finely educated nobleman and common like the lowest ranks of street thugs, and distinctly in the dialect of the slums of one specific city. But having a story with two clearly defined languages with no overlap between them started a lot of problems that distratcted from the plot, so I decided to discard that, and decided to just go with them being different dialects.

And just now it occurred to me that almost all the "lost in translation" sort of plot points that I did need the bilingual setting for were about writing, and that I could just resolve this by having two different writing systems for the (different dialects of) the same language. Like perhaps Imperial script is much like written chinese, featuring elegant, sophisticated, elaborate characters that can depict a number of different things, and the Common script is more like finnish, written phonetically with consistent sound for each letter - inelegant but practical, so one always knows how to spell a word they've only heard in speech, or how to pronounce a word they've only seen in writing.

The protagonist - being a baron - can read and write Imperial fluently, but having learnt the common dialect only from the stray boys he would sneak out to play with as a kid, cannot read Common script at all. So while he can fluently code-switch between speaking, standing and conducting himself like a baron, and moving and talking exactly like a Brethage slum stray, there is literally no way that he could fake being perfectly fluent in Imperial.

So to people who are on the upper end of the "lower caste" he does seem to be exactly as he seems - a stray lunatic who talks mad shit, occasionally claims to be a baron, but demonstrably could not read or write to save his life. But for someone who is familiar with the ways and etiquette of the nobility, seeing the Famously Batshit Foxtrap-Todd just casually code-switch and suddenly know exactly how to wear a rains banquet coat, properly pour tea, and be able to fluently read and recite poetry written in classic formal Imperial, would be as wtf-worthy as hearing a horse suddenly spontaneously start to speak.

[purinfelix]

just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto

summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear

a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)

"You're actually insane."

"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"

You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.

"A fake relationship?"

"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"

You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.

"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"

"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."

"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.

Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.

"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.

God fucking damnit.

It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.

You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.

"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"

You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"

His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."

"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.

"Firstly, no kissing."

"Understood."

"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."

"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"

You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.

"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."

"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."

"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."

You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.

There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.

Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.

Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.

"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.

"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."

"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."

"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."

When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"

He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."

"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.

"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"

"See you then."

The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.

The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.

But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.

"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.

"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."

"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."

You think for a little before answering, "You're right."

"Do you think there's a reason for that?"

"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."

"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."

There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.

"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.

"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."

"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."

"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."

"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."

He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.

"God, I'm so full."

"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"

"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.

"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.

"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."

"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"

"Wow, boring."

He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"

"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.

"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."

You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"

"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Oh we're not-"

"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."

You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.

"No, it's okay, I got this."

"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."

"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."

You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.

"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"

"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.

"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.

Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.

You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?

"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.

"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.

"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.

"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.

"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"

Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.

"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.

"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"

You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.

"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."

He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.

"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.

You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.

"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"

"Look, I can explain!"

You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.

"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."

You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.

"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."

"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.

There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."

"What?"

"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.

"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.

"What?" you're confused.

"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.

"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.

Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.

You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.

"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.

"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.

"Don't you?"

"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."

Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.

"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?

"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"

You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.

"Sure, what about?"

"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."

"Goodnight Franco."

"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.

However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.

You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.

"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.

"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.

"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.

"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.

Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.

"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.

Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.

You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.

"Better?"

"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."

"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."

You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.

"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.

"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.

You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."

He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."

"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.

Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.

"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"

He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.

"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"

You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.

"What?" he says, and your heart drops.

"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.

"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.

"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."

"When did you realise?"

"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."

There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.

But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."

It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.

"Wait you mean you-"

"I win!"

You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.

"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.

You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."

"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."

"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."

"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.

"Even when you proposed this to me?"

"Yep."

"Even when we went to get ice cream?"

"Yep."

"Even when you kissed me?"

"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.

"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."

You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"

"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.

"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.

"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."

You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."

Taglist : @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @cinderellawithashoe @vanicogh @taasgirl @claudiajacobs

@dripostsstuff @boiolay @earth-to-lottie @dejavuontrack @dudududu-fangirl

@kravitzwhore @gavisuntiedboot @reiofsuns2001 @musicmie @danielle12002x-blog

@alelo23 @corrodeddeadlydoll @aliwritex @nina-or-anna-or-nora

@5sospenguinqueen @araunahj @sbrn0905 @halleest @lottieliveslife

@lovestruck-sky @im-an-op81-fan @blubra @vienoiserieetc

(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)

[cheriladycl01]

Feel the Heat - Grid x F Driver! Reader

Plot: All the moments that Y/N has just absolutely lost her shit.

Warnings: Lots of swearing, mentions of sexism (undertones) which I do not condone at all, its just for the plot and what i see some celebrities are burdened with in the limelight.

Moment 1:

"So Y/N how do you feel about the 10 second time penalty?" Martin asks you in the post race interview. You were now starting P20 in the race tomorrow and it wasn't even your fault.

"Yeah superb the FIA did a really good job determining who was at fault!" you grit out with a strained smile on your face.

"Oh really? Because your team seem to be arguing against the decision as we speak, they've been very vocal about it"

"Yeah it was sarcastic of course I'm not happy, any other driver who did that would have been let off... but I don't? My team have clips of Hamilton, Ricciardo, Leclerc, Stroll, Gasly and Norris all doing it and getting away with it. So why not me?" you ask before storming off. You didn't want to do media anymore and your PR manager could tell.

"Y/N we are trying to get that penalty lifted so that you start P4 tomorrow. I don't know what else to say, the team are trying" she says rubbing your shoulders, but the scowl on your face says otherwise.

"It's not fucking right though Cathy!" you exclaim kicking the side of the Red Bull hospitality wall.

"I know, i know. And they are working on it!" she exclaims trying to calm you down.

"They wont change their decision now though, the other teams will get pissed that they've gone back on their word..." you seethe.

"Fucks sake" you scream.

"I'm going" you grunt out, before storming through the AlphaTauri garage and grab your bag that you'd brought to the track. Everyone could see how hacked off you were, even once you put the sunglasses on and your team cap to cover the look currently on your face.

"Y/N are you okay?" Yuki your team mate asks, as he too exists the paddock behind you. You tried to ignore him, not wanting to turn round and snap at one of the most genuine and sweetest people here.

"Okay, you don't want to talk and that's fine, but please let me drive. Angry Y/N is scary driving" he advises, trying to beeline ahead of you so that he could get to the drivers door before you.

"Sorry Yuki, yeah you should drive" you manage to get out slowing down your own pace so that the poor male didn't have to run so he was ahead of you.

Aftermath:

You proceeded to not have the time penalty knocked, and you started the race in P20, however you managed to climb all the way up to P5 in a victorious come back race.

Your team were celebrating the come back and you were beyond happy in the interviews.

Moment 2:

"Y/N over here! Can you sign this?" another voice shouts at you, you were in the airport and your manager said that he would be there for you and your girlfriend when you got off the plane with security.

However no-one was there to collect you apart from fans who somehow worked out what flight you were on.

Slowly more and more people were flooding around you both and your girlfriend. Your girlfriend was a smaller streamer and therefore wasn't used to the Paparazzi.

"Guys can we back up a little, just to keep us all safe" you tried being nice to get the fans to back up a little further to make sure your girlfriend was safe.

However, as you went round with the sharpie, more and more people were pushing and you were so out of it from the pushing and pulling, the cameras in your face and things being thrusted at you that the tight grip that was once on your forearm was gone.

"Emma?" you shouted your girlfriends name, now noticing you couldn't see her.

"Emma!" you shouted in an angrier tone, people still not backing up and giving you space.

"Right, I've tried to be nice, everyone please leave. NOW!" you say sternly, and for the first time not only the fans but airport staff notice the commotion and security help you out of the circled crowd around you.

You immediately went to twitter.

'Please, if you are a fan and you see a celebrity in a public space with no security... DONT bring attention to them and DONT mob them. That was the scariest moment of my life in Heathrow Airport just now. Have some fucking respect for your idols'

You shut your phone off, your face still angry most definitely being caught by the paps. They also caught as you ran up to your girlfriend pulling her into a hug, checking over her making sure she's okay, before your hands travel up to her cheek and pull her into a kiss.

"I'm so sorry baby" you apologize as soft tears start to fall down her face.

Aftermath:

Your girlfriend had ended up breaking up with you the week after the race, the pressure of everything getting to her. You cried to Charles and Pierre for an entire weekend as your 3 year long relationship had just come to a close because of your fans not having respect for personal space and boundaries.

You were fuming and had written many tweets and Instagram story's explaining why you guys broke up and how utterly heartbroken you were, however you wanted Emma to be happy and that this is what was for the best.

For months, you were cold and off with any media duties and PR had to tell every interviewer not to bring the breakup up in the questions or they'd cut the interview.

Moment 3:

"Well, Lando... you've been here for six years now and you still haven't got your first win yet... do you feel like your going to be the next Nico Hulkenberg or Kevin Magnussen?" An interviewer asks looking down at his notepad.

"Erm" Lando says unsurely looking down.

"What the actual fuck" you spit, looking at the interviewer that asked him.

"Y/N you have input on this matter?"

"Go fuck yourself. Get yourself in a F1 car and see if you can even fucking start it. Lando has worked hard for what he has achieved so far, in and no hate to Mclaren, but a midfield car. How dare you sit there and ask him that question. Kevin and Nico have also worked hard for where they are, even just being in F1 is a phenomenal achievement considering there are only 20 seats in the world. So to answer your question, no Lando is Lando Norris and that's fucking iconic enough as it is, with or without a win. Have a good fucking rest of the panel" you rant, before standing up with so much force that your seat goes crashing back, a bang sounding throughout the room making the interviewer flinch.

Aftermath:

Everyone actually sat there for a minute reviewing how you'd just stormed out of media duties and slammed the interviewer six feet under.

"So Y/N no longer will be participating into todays panel. So Martin i believe you had a question for Lewis?" the director advised but the rest of the vibes for the interview weren't there as everyone agreed with your previous statements.

Moment 4:

"Y/N are you okay?" your race engineer asks.

"FUCK! FUCKS SAKE. WHAT A PRICK" you screech.

"Copy that. But are you okay?" they asks once again.

"No I'm not fucking okay. Tell Leclerc when i see him, I'm going to shove his wheel so far into his mouth " *cut off*

"Did you guys just fucking mute me?" you scream, but after not hearing anything you jump out the car handing the wheel to one of the pit teams that had come out to collect your battered car.

You kicked at the gravel, yelling at one of the crew asking if they saw how Leclerc had literally gone into you and used you as his crash barrier, yet he was still able to the continue the race pitting for minor wing damage.

Aftermath:

You had yelled at Charles after the race, who completely admitted to you that he was at fault and he was sorry to be the cause of your DNF. He went on to say in the interviews that he was sorry to you that he'd caused such a collision.

Moment 5:

"WOMEN SHOULDNT BE IN MOTORSPORT" you hear from the stand behind you as your signing a little boys hat that he had offered you asking for a picture and a signature.

However, something metallic not only hit you but hit the little boy that was stood to your left. He immediately raised his hand to his head, holding the bit that the can had hit before bursting into tears.

In a moment of shock you spin round looking for the men that had thrown the empty beer cans at you through the fencing.

"Oiii you two get the fuck down here now!" you point at the two laughing gents, who still at being called out.

"Don't ever pull shit like that again or I'll get you permanently banned from every sporting event you could possibly attend" you say looking up at them. They looked at you in shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry if its not the consequences of your actions ..." you laugh.

"But ..."

"No, you hurt a little boy! And me... So I'll be letting bar staff know to no longer serve you" you say before turning away and talking to security.

They ended up finding the little boy and his father. You came up to them with a gift bag each and upgraded paddock passes. They hugged you thanking you for the opportunity and saying it was too much.

You made sure the little boy was okay, carrying him on your hip touring him through the paddock, introducing him and his dad to the other drivers and then showing him around the garage. You let him sit in your car while you took a picture of him and his dad. A mechanic then took a picture of the three of you.

Aftermath:

The media went crazy seeing you stick up for the little boy and his day around the paddock with you. People knew you were sweet despite how short tempered you could be and these interactions proved it.

The little boy and his father ended up actually becoming closer friends of yours and would often be seen in the paddock or when they had general tickets people would wave as they recognized them.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋

summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in the devildom doesn't make it any better; luckily, these demons are here to help

pairings: mammon :: belphegor :: barbatos x reader

warnings: period-having reader (gn pronouns), blood, mild cramps

a/n: this is literally so self-indulgent, as everything i write is, but whenever i'm on my period thinking of scenarios like this helps me sit through cramps, so i thought i'd share the nonesense with you ♡

obey me masterlist || similar writing: twisted pains [twst]

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

“Human! Open ya damn door!”

“No, please let me die in peace,” you whined from underneath your blankets as the banging against your door continued.

“If ya don’t let me in right now, I’ll kick it down, ya hear me?!” You could practically see Mammon pacing a ridge into the floor in front of your room, so you trudged over there and unlocked it, the demon almost colliding with you from how quickly he opened the door. His snow-white hair was sticking up from his head as if he’d run his hands through it without noticing. “What’s the big deal makin’ me wait so damn long, huh?”

“I told you I’m trying to pass away from this life,” you deadpanned, trudging back to your bed, groaning as another cramp twisted your lower stomach. “First, I have to deal with this shit in a house full of male demons who are absolutely not prepared to handle a human exchange student on their period. And second-“

You paused, for both dramatic flair and to take a calming breath. Then, you turned around and gave Mammon a saccharine smile dipping pure venom.

“I find out that apparently the entire Devildom can smell that I’m on my period if I step a foot out the bloody door.”

“Listen, I’m sorry.” Mammon held up his hands to plead his innocence. “I didn’t mean ta be so rude about it. But in my defence, I didn’t know it’s a normal thing for humans to just start bleedin’. I thought ya were dyin’!”

You painfully remembered how you had dragged yourself out of your room this morning, after luckily finding some hygiene products in the bag you had with you when you were whisked away to the Devildom unannounced (thank the sky guy you threw them into literally every bag and purse you owned). Already in a bad mood, you’d plopped down into your designated seat, ready to fight for your breakfast, only to feel six pairs of eyes on you.

“What?” You had asked, when nobody passed you the bread basket.

That had been when Mammon, eyes as wide as the coaster under your mug, almost jump-scared you into dropping your butter knife. 

“WHY ARE YA BLEEDIN’?!” He’d already pulled you from your chair and started inspecting you for any signs of injuries, tugging your arms up and inspecting your head. “Are ya hurt anywhere?”

“Mammon, I’m fine. You can let go of me now.” You almost had to wrestle your arm back from him, heat already creeping up your cheeks. 

“Clearly yer not!”

Exhaling deeply you said through gritted teeth “I’m on my period, if you have to know.”

The demons around the table had exchanged glances, but sadly only three of them had held a spark of understanding, those being Satan, Levi and Asmodeus. Mammon and Beel on the other hand seemed more lost (well, Beel actually had his eyes on his food but that was beside the point) and Lucifer’s face had been unreadable.

“Woah, periods are an actual thing?” Levi had asked incredulously, his voice somewhere between shock and awe. “I thought anime made those up for the sake of the plot.”

“I see,” Satan had given you hope. “I‘ve read about those before in some books on human anatomy but I didn’t think it was a big deal, seeing as it wasn’t talked about much.”

“Satan, pray tell, from when were those books?” 

“The 18th century perhaps?” He shrugged, tilting his head.

“Well, that explains a lot,” you had sighed, whereas Asmo had just dropped his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry about them, hon. But demons don’t experience periods, so I doubt any of them will be much help,” he had squeezed your hand sympathetically.

Lucifer had cleared his throat then. “Well, it appears that we have some catching up to do, now that we are hosting a human exchange student. Given your…predicament, you are allowed to stay home from RAD as long as this affects you.”

You had sighed a breath of relief.

“In exchange, however,” Lucifer had continued, making you dread the next words to leave his mouth, “it will fall to you that my brothers are properly educated on how to handle this side of humanity.”

So, that afternoon, you had found yourself in the common room, holding a presentation on the menstrual cycle in front of the brothers… and the future demon king himself. Yes, of course, Diavolo had gotten wind of your situation and simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn more about humans. At least, him being in the know meant you’d never have to worry about getting period products imported to the Devildom ever again.

Subsequently, you had locked yourself in your room, curled up under a blanket as you scrolled through Devilgram trying to forget this whole ordeal happened. A good hour later, Mammon had started pounding against your door like a madman.

With him standing in your room now, you could see the bag he was holding as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you patted the spot next to you.

“I’ll forgive you. It would have been more embarrassing if I went to RAD without knowing,” you said placatingly. “Anyways, what’s that?”

“Oh, it’s nothin’…” Mammon trailed off, looking anywhere but you as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just… Ya were sayin’ this stuff could help and we didn’t have any, so I went and got some for ya… Only because Lucifer would string me from the ceiling if ya went and complained! That’s all!”

Taking the plastic bag from him, you peered inside to see various types of human world painkillers, a hot water bottle and chocolates. Despite what the demon had just said, you noted that the chocolate brand he bought was the one you liked best, something you had only dropped in a passing sentence when you talked to Asmo about a new trending dessert.

“Thank you, Mammon,” you smiled genuinely. “That actually is really helpful.”

“Really?” He managed to suppress his grin before it curled further than the corner of his lips before clearing his throat and hiding half his face behind his hand. “I mean, I’m only doin’ ma job, ya know? So Lucifer gives me back Goldie!”

“Sure you are,” you laughed, the first time since your day started.  “Does your job also involve staying with me and watching a movie?”

“Yeah!” This time he was too late to hide his excitement, then he caught himself and tried again, calmer this time. “I uh- I could fit ya in my super busy schedule. Gotta make sure ya don’t die after all, huh?”

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

What a horrible way to start your day.

Well, under other circumstances, it would’ve been near perfect. Waking up snuggled comfortably in your boyfriend’s tight hold as he lightly snored into the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. 

If it wasn’t for the unpleasant twisting of your lower stomach you might have turned around and slept the morning away. Still slightly groggy, you sat up in bed, hoping dearly it was just a fleeting stomach ache or hunger and not your period, despite the clear symptoms. 

All hope was shattered however, when you shifted and you knew instantly that you could kiss this pair of underwear goodbye. With some effort, you wriggled out of Belphie’s vice grip, looking back at the sleepy demon as he groaned in protest only to see a large blood stain where you’d just lain. At your shocked gasp echoing around the attic, you watched his brows knit together and his nose wriggle, his forehead creasing as if he was deep in thought. Then, he blinked his eyes open.

“What’s—“ he cut himself off with a yawn, “What’s wrong? Are you alright? What are you doing over there?”

“Belphie… I’m so sorry,” you nearly sobbed, guilt bubbling up in you. In combination with your hormones being all over the place and your still sleep-addled mind, tears were threatening to form along your waterline.

In a heartbeat, the Avatar of Sloth was up and next to you, pulling you into a hug and bringing your head to rest against his shoulder, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other holding you close by the waist. You’d never seen him move this fast this early in the morning.

“Hey, hey, what’s up?” He gently prodded, voice still raspy with sleep but soft nonetheless. “Please talk to me, starlight.”

“It’s— Your sheets, I’m so sorry… I didn’t know…” You buried your face deeper in the fabric draping over his chest as you felt him turn his head towards the bed. Then, a beat of silence spanned across the attic.

“That’s what you’re fussing about?”

“Yeah, I mean—“ Collecting your thoughts, you began again. “It’s gross and a pain to clean. I really should’ve known that—“

“Hey, look at me.” Tilting your face towards his, your eyes met amethyst ones as you followed the guidance of his fingers underneath your chin. “It’s not gross, you hear me? No part of you could ever be.”

“But the blood-“

“I’m a demon, might I remind you. You’d think I can handle a little blood.” There was a caring seriousness in his gaze that made you weak in the knees, the love and adoration you found swirling within almost making you cry for a whole other reason. “You didn’t actually think I’d be mad at you about something so natural, did you?”

“It’s generally a bit of a taboo topic and conversations about it can be quite stigmatised, so…,” you shrugged.

“You’re telling me half the population go through this every month and the topic is hushed up anyway? You’re already stressed enough and people give you crap for something like this?” You nodded at his incredulous tone. “Well that’s just stupid.”

For a moment, Belphie just held you, his fingers tracing random shapes into your hip. Then, he pulled you towards a dresser in the corner of the room, never letting go of you completely. 

With how much time you had started spending in the attic it was a somewhat natural course of nature that your clothes would gradually end up moving here as well. Pulling out a fresh pair of underwear and a pair of black sweatpants, you didn’t have time to reach for a sweater before a soft pile of fabric was already pushed into your hands. Upon closer inspection, you identified it to be one of Belphie’s hoodies.

“I know you like wearing them,” he merely shrugged off your raised eyebrow. “Now go and take your time washing up, but make sure to come back straight away when you’re done.”

Practically herding you out of the door, you almost had to snort at the irony of the Avatar of Sloth encouraging you to do something you might not have had the energy to otherwise. But you were incredibly thankful for it because when the shower’s warm water hit you, you noticed how much you needed this, feeling born anew after scrubbing your skin clean.

Climbing back up the stairs to the attic, you already felt a lot calmer than when you had woken up, swaddled in Belphie’s cloud-like hoodie (seriously, where did he find fabric like that?) and surrounded by a mixture of his scent and your body wash.

When you pushed open the attic door, you blinked at the new set of sheets Belphie was lounging on, the old ones nowhere to be seen. Even without you moving, the demon perked up at your presence, extending one arm to coax you back into bed.

“What are you still doing over there? Come here,” he said, voice already drowsy again. “There’s still some morning left to be slept away.”

Who were you to refuse? Sliding under the covers next to him, you turned and twisted into whatever pretzel position made you cramp the least before two strong arms wrapped around you. This was another perk of being with Belphie; if anyone could accommodate weird sleeping positions, it was him.

Warm hands found their way under his hoodie, his palms pressed flatly against your lower back where most of your pain was coming from, while the hips of his fingers slowly caressed the surrounding skin.

“Feeling better?” He mumbled into the crown of your head.

“Mhm, much better,” you breathed into the crook of his neck, sighing as his natural body heat slowly eased some of the constant pressure in both your lower stomach and back. “How did you know about the back pain though?”

“You always complain about it, especially on the first day,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it was the most natural thing to know. 

“How did I get so lucky,” you mused, your tone playful but just as genuine. “Makes me feel even worse about ruining your sheets.”

“Literally don’t worry about it, you do too much of that anyway. I left them with Asmo, he knows how to get just about any stain out of stuff.” You tried not to think about the specifics of where that expertise came from, so you rolled your eyes at the very typical behaviour of the youngest to dump his work on his brothers. Then you stiffened. Work. Chores. You were on grocery shopping duty today. “What’s the matter now?”

“I have to go out soon and get everything we need for dinner,” you sighed. Maybe you could convince someone to trade it with an indoor chore for the week.

Before you could reach for your D.D.D, the arms around you held you a little closer to the demon you were snuggled up against, one of his legs draping over your thigh, careful not to put too much pressure on you as he tangled your legs with his.

“Well that’s too bad,” Belphie mumbled into your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Looks like Lucifer has to find someone else for the job. Because you’ll be busy all day.”

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒

Periods had the annoying habit of showing up whenever they pleased, which mostly meant whenever it was most inconvenient for you. Being well aware of that fact didn’t mean you were any more prepared for it to happen, though. 

So, as you were running errands around RAD with Barbatos, it suddenly felt like your insides were squeezed together and wrung out like a washcloth, making you stagger and pause to steady yourself again. When your companion turned to ask if you were alright, you assured him everything was fine, hoping it was just one bad cramp that would ebb away soon.

But over the course of the next fifteen minutes, it progressively got worse and you had trouble focusing on the task at hand, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you sorted through student council documents. As you reached for a new stack of files, gloved hands came to rest over yours, preventing you from picking up more work.

“You should not overexert yourself, dear,” a soft voice spoke close to your ear. On other occasions, you would have welcomed the way his hands smoothed down your shoulders when it was just the two of you for once, but you couldn’t think about anything but the pain you were experiencing. “Without meaning to offend, you’re looking rather unwell. Allow me to take you to the Demon Lord’s Castle.”

“What about work?” You mumbled but didn’t resist as he pulled you to your feet, steadying you with a hand between your shoulder blades. “And Diavolo?”

“Do not worry about that. There’s no rush to complete these files and the Young Master has given the explicit order for me to take care of you,” Barbatos smiled as he led you out of RAD, careful to avoid as much unwanted attention as possible. “An order I was all too happy to comply with, might I add.”

“So you knew,” you sighed with a smile, not actually too surprised at the revelation. “I did think it was suspicious to have you all to myself the entire day. Do I even have to ask how you knew?”

“Well, as you have come to learn, demons are far more perceptive to certain reactions of the body, hormonal changes included,” he explained matter of factly. “Aside from that, however, I have also made it a priority to learn the rhythm of your body to best care for you.”

“You track my cycle? Despite being so busy already?” You turn your head to look at him in surprise.

“Of course. Not only are you an honoured exchange student, you are also someone who is immensely important to me,” he said as he held the castle door open for you, his verdant gaze full of adoration. “Naturally, I aim to ease your strains and alleviate some of the burden you carry.”

“You really don’t have to—“

“But I want to.” Taking your hand in his, the fabric of his gloves soft against your skin, he brushed your knuckles with a featherlight kiss. “Please allow me to take care of you, my love.”

“I guess I can’t say no when you ask like that,” you laughed sheepishly. Your body seemingly agreed with you as it sent another wave of cramps to make your knees buckle. 

“You must be exhausted,” Barbatos said, no doubt picking up on your unease immediately. “Let me draw you a warm bath to ease some of your tension.”

Said, done. Soon thereafter, you were sinking into a tub that probably cost more than a normal person’s house, the water the absolute perfect temperature to relax your muscles. You also noted how there were no strong scents present, only the hint of something floral and calming, but not overwhelmingly so.

After some time of soaking in the bath and with your permission, Barbatos stepped back into the bathroom. First, he wrapped you in the fluffiest black towel, carefully patting your skin dry so as to not irritate it. Then, he applied a moisturising lotion, gently kneading out any knots in your legs and shoulders with his skilled fingers before helping you into a new set of clothes which felt light as feathers against your skin. 

He also showed you where to find any sort of hygiene product you might need and, to nobody’s surprise, somebody had stocked the guest bathroom you used whenever you came over with every possible product there was.

In your guest room, Barbatos guided you over to the sofa and lounge chairs underneath one of the high windows where a tea set was already waiting for you on the table in the middle. 

“I took the liberty to prepare some tea and a few pastries while you were bathing. This blend has soothing qualities and is known to help with cramping. Given your usual choice of tea, I also think the aroma will be to your taste,” the demon explained and, as always, you were stunned by his level of attention to detail. 

As he poured it, you noticed, however, that there was only one cup on the table and instead of getting one for himself, Barbatos went to fetch a hot water bottle. 

Wrapping it in a cloth he warned you to be careful not to burn yourself before announcing he’d start preparations for dinner, letting you know he’d be making your favourite. But before he could turn to leave, you caught his wrist, a surprised expression flitting over his face for just a second.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you started, holding his gaze, “would you join me for tea? It’s been a while since we sat down together.”

At your request his face smoothed over into a fond smile, the hand in your grasp coming up to brush over your cheekbone. 

“I suppose dinner can wait a little longer,” he said, clearly as happy as you to spend time with you. “Then again, even if it couldn’t, I’d find it hard to leave you. Especially when your wish and mine are so closely intertwined.”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

[coulsons-band]

pedro pascal doesn’t owe you shit.

it is absolutely fine to be disappointed by his absence at cannes. i am too. but he does not have to be there.

for whatever reason he’s pulling away from the attention. the esquire article talked about how guarded he is and his socials have really slowed down. maybe he’s unprepared or overwhelmed by all the tlou hype. i mean his follower count went up by the tens of thousands the day after the premiere. that’s insane.

but some of you have lost the plot. the ones wearing d*ddy’s little girl shirts in fucking public and yelling d*ddy at him at events and trying to convince everyone whether he’s queer or not and complaining there isn’t an explicit scene of him fucking in the strange way of life. it’s not a gay porn made for your fetish. ‘oh but narcos!!’ that’s called characterization. read literally any article from almodovar and understand why sex isn’t the point.

interacting with paparazzi content and making cute little edits - jfc. that’s creating demand and supply and paparazzi know no fucking boundaries. man’s got anxiety and no doubt the paps and fans watching his every move are probably making that worse.

let him make movies and rotate through his four shirts in peace. pedro pascal doesn’t owe anyone shit.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

first love {e.m}

plot: you were eddie's first love and you never forget your first love.

character: eddie munson x reader

Everyone knew about you. A day never passed without Eddie mentioning you and your name whether it be a passing "(y/n) loved that" or a more in depth conversation about you or a memory but Eddie always spoke about you. You and Eddie were high school sweethearts. You'd been friends for years and everyone thought that you'd eventually end up together and they were right.

Eddie was your first. First boyfriend, first kiss, first love. You were the same for him and everybody knew it.

The way Eddie spoke about you made everyone smile. He spoke so highly of you, always complimenting you and telling the craziest stories. The two of you were the perfect couple; the 'it' couple as they say. The pair of you together were free, no cares in the world and just happy. God, the two of you were just so damn happy.

"Well, where is she?" Dustin asked with that toothy grin after Eddie had finished telling him a story about the time you and him broke into the school and ended up catching two teachers making out, "You're always talking about her but where is she?"

Eddie's face fell and it was in that moment that Dustin knew he'd fucked up.

Around the room, everyone who knew the truth's eyes widened and stared at Dustin then Eddie then Dustin. Eddie's eyes glazed over face unreadable as Dustin frowned and looked around the room, "What?" He asked, "Did I say something I shouldn't have? I was only asking where (y/n) is, you all look like you've seen a ghost- Oh."

With a horror filled expression, Dustin turned to Eddie and his suspicion was confirmed, "Oh fuck," Dustin whispered, "Eddie, I'm so- fuck, man, I didn't know- I'm so sorry-"

Eddie shook his head, swallowing hard and forcing a quick smile, "It's fine." He stood and cleared his throat, "I just need to get some air."

The room was dead silent until Eddie left and then Steve whacked Dustin on the arm, "Dude!"

"Why did none of you freaking tell me his girlfriend is dead?!" Dustin hissed to Nancy and Steve, "You- You made me look like an idiot! Fuck!"

Outside, Eddie was on the hood of his car, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket along with a lighter to light it up. He looked up to the darkening sky as he took a puff and closed his eyes. He liked to imagine you up there with all the legends, partying and singing away, just waiting until it was his turn to come and then you'd party for all eternity with each other. It had been almost two years since he lost you and there wasn't a moment where he didn't think about you. Every single decision Eddie made, every thought he had... it was all connected to you. Eddie had bought his new van based on what he thought you'd say about it. Eddie wore the outfits you bought him or at least modelled himself in similar items of clothing to ones he knew that you liked. You were gone but you truly lived on in Eddie Munson's day to day life.

It was a few minutes later when Eddie was pressing the cigarette into the grass under his boot that Dustin came out, "Hey, kid," Eddie said, glancing over his shoulder at him, "Come, sit."

Dustin awkwardly sat beside Eddie on the hood of the car, he was shit scared and Eddie could tell, "Dude, I'm so-"

"S'alright," Eddie said with a half smile.

"No, Eddie, seriously, I didn't-"

"Dustin," Eddie's voice was louder but he wasn't angry, he was calm. This was probably the calmest Eddie had ever been now that Dustin was thinking about it, "It's alright."

Dustin nodded and released a long breath allowing his shoulders to sag. He was silent for a few seconds before he said it anyway, "I didn't know... I'm really sorry."

The older boy dug around in his pocket before he pulled out two things; a photo and his lighter. He handed them both to Dustin, "There's my girl." The smile on Eddie's face when he looked at your picture said it all, "That's (y/n) and that lighter was (y/n)'s. She carved our initials into it, see?" Dustin flipped the lighter and sure enough, yours and Eddie's initials were carved onto the black metal, "I carry those everywhere I go... so that she's always with me."

"Can- Can I ask what happened?" Dustin handed the picture and lighter back to Eddie.

Eddie shrugged, "I lost her, that's the long and short of it all. Got hit by a drunk driver one night when we were stopped at a red light. She was gone instantly. I..." Eddie sucked in breath and released it, "Sometimes I wish I'd gone that night too." Dustin didn't speak, he just let Eddie talk, "She hadn't wanted to go out, she wanted to stay in but I wanted more beer. Had I not wanted it-"

"It's not your fault, Eddie."

Eddie nodded, staring down at his photo of you, "Would you believe me if I said it makes it easier if I blame me? No use blaming the other driver, he died that night in hospital. He's dead, can't blame a dead man but I can blame me... and if I blame me, it means that I can be better; I can better myself for her, for (y/n)."

"What was she like?" Eddie spoke about you that much that Dustin already had a pretty good idea of what you were like but he wanted to hear it from Eddie in this heartbreakingly raw moment.

Eddie's face stretched into a wide smile, "Henderson, you would've loved her. She was fiery, didn't take anyone's shit. She was funny, could make friends just like that. She loved D&D, she was the one that coined the name Hellfire Club. She was... She would've done great things. She would've loved you."

The pair smiled at one another before Eddie's eyes returned to the sky, "S'alright, Henderson. You didn't know, don't feel bad about it."

Dustin nodded, realising that was Eddie ending the conversation, "You coming back in?" He jumped from the hood of the car and looked expectantly at the older boy.

"In a minute," Eddie sighed, "just gonna chat to my girl for a minute."

"Say hi to her from me."

"Will do."

Dustin gave him a small smile before walking back inside. Eddie's eyes closed as he looked up, "I wish you could meet them all, pretty eyes, Henderson especially. I think he would've loved you almost as much as I do... Ah well, I better go back in. Don't want them thinking I've gone all soft, eh?" He opened his eyes and looked at your picture once more before pressing a gentle kiss to it, "I love you."

[miyakiwiii]

"Just a naïve one arent ya?"

=HOSHINA SOSHIRO

Ive had brainrot of this man for the whole days.. also some karasu brainrot.

18+ NSFW. EXPLICIT.

MARKING/BITING, OVERSTIMULATION,P IN V, SLIGHT BONDAGE? BLOOD,INJURY! ,W/PLOT,RAW!,HAIR PULLING, FEM READER!,BOTH PRAISE?, DEGRADE?,RIDING

the vice captain of the third division of the defense force, hoshina soshiro.

Or hoshina fuku taichō.

You were just a normal officer, serving also for the defense force and also in the third division.

You've always admired the vice captain from afar, well he has only greeted you once.... maybe thrice? We dont know.

The kaiju alarm has rang, waking the others up and moving quickly getting ready.

All of you moved fast to reach the vehicle in time. Others are now inside the vehicle, to reach where the kaiju is now attacking. You, also inside the vehicle and took a deep breath and exhale it, You look around inside the vehicle and it stops into the destination on where the kaiju is close, but not close enough to injure all of you inside the vehicle. All of you went outside the vehicle, readying you're guns

Pew pew.

There he was, wearing his armour, and also his double swords noticable,his closed eyes and the mask covering his mouth.

You grip ur gun tighter as the ground rumbles a little bit, due to the kaiju being hella big...

You prepare too shoot incoming kaijus, reloading freezing rounds to slow some of them up.

It was untill one attacked you from behind. As it attacked you, you managed to shoot it off and run away, hiding in a building gripping your bleeding shoulder.

Shit, those kaijus we're fast as fuck.

Your eyes slowly close due too the exhaustion from the blood lost.

But, you suddenly randomly woke up in a bed blah blah blah..

"Oh? Yer' awake! Didnt notice that." hoshina says with his signature smile and closed eyes of course...

Wait did you say hoshina?

ITS HOSHINA.

He sits on the chair beside you as you look at him.

"Uhm.." you say letting out a sound, well not entirely a sound but you dont know if its a word.

He flicks your forehead

"Ow.." you rub the place where he flicked you're forehead

"You're just a naïve one arent ya?" He says, looking at you while laughing " we found you bleeding inside of a random crumbled building, Ya coulda' been injured more!" He says while crossing his hands.

"Im.. sorry vice captain i had no where to go.." you say while sighing and also sweat dropping

"No, no its fine! You could repay me because i saved yer' life." He says while smirking at you.

"What.. kind of repayment..?" You say, swallowing the saliva thats been building up inside ur mouth.

"You'll see." He says while smiling, striking you with his signature smile.

NSFW AHEAD.

And thats how you ended up having your hands tied to ur back while riding your vice captain.. raw

"Yer' doing so well hm? Riding my cock like a fucking slut." He says, gripping your waist like hes holding on for dear life.

"Ah - ah- yes vice captain!" You say, tears welling up in you're eyes as the overstimulation consumes your body.

How many orgasms has it been? Two or three? Maybe even four.

You were slowly turning dizzy from the pleasure, no his pleasure That you were giving him.

He slowly makes his way into ur neck, feeling his warm breath.

He bites down a mark and it makes you arch your back and moan, he was still bouncing you up and down, like a fucking cocksleeve.

"I bet ya like this hm? Sugar?" He says, licking the mark, blood seeping from the mark.

"Y-yes Vice captai- AH!" you say, he moves ur body faster on his cock, there was a ring of white forming on it, due to the past orgasms.

Goddamn this man had a lot of stamina...

Well of course? What would you expect from the vice captain?

He pulls ur hair for a kiss, intertwining your tongues together, he was kissing you like a starved man.

While he was kissing you, his hands slowly made it into your clit, rubbing it in tight cirlces.

He breaks the kiss and opens his eyes. You saw his red eyes staring at yours.

"C-cant do it haaah..." you say feeling exhausted from bouncing on his cock.

"You can do it, just one more... one more.." he still kept rubbing circles on ur core, he was feeling you tightening on his shaft.

He felt good from all of this.

"C-coming!" You say.

"Come. Now." he says making you bounce more faster on him.

"Ngh- aahha!" You came, oh so deliciously on him,he soon followed after you.

You were both panting and huffing.

"Who said we were done yet?"

Hes so ooc for me.. AGGGHHHHH