#i watched this episode called 'the sign' today

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write a Jamie x reader story but y/n is a footballer just like Jamie and they kinda have similar personalities. You can choose if she plays for Richmond’s women team that they showed in the final episode or for another club. But i think it would be both hilarious and cute to see Jamie hit it off with someone similar to him, like he both finds her insufferable because she’s so cocky but he also thinks it’s hot. Thank you so much in advance ❤️‍🔥

Princess of Pricks

One Shot - Jamie Tartt x fem! reader

Masterlist

Pairing: fem! footballer reader x Jamie Tartt

TW: cursing, suggestive scene/language, very long ff

Summary: Y/N, an Irish striker on the Richmond women’s team, faces off against the cocky Jamie Tartt when the teams are forced to train together. The two banter back and forth, challenging each other on the pitch while their rivalry turns into something more.

Part Two is on its way!

The AFC Richmond Women’s locker room was already buzzing that morning. Boots thudded against the floor, shin pads snapped into place, and someone—probably Niamh, the team’s right winger—was arguing over whether tea or coffee was the superior pre-training drink.

“Irish tea is the only correct answer, gals,” Y/N declared as she tied her boots, her thick accent cutting through the chatter.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re Irish,” Niamh shot back.

“Exactly. Therefore, I’m right.”

A chorus of laughter rippled through the room as the team finished getting ready. They were in good spirits today—there was a big match coming up, and Roy Kent, their gruff, permanently scowling manager, had been particularly fired up during the last few training sessions. Which, for Roy, meant extra yelling and even more creative swearing than usual.

Y/N stood, rolling her shoulders. She was already itching to get on the pitch. As Richmond’s star striker and number 9, she thrived on competition. Nothing got her heart racing like the promise of a match—whether it was in a stadium packed with fans or just a training session with her teammates.

“Come on, then,” she called, leading the team out into the hallway and toward the training pitch.

It was a crisp morning, the kind that promised a good session. The team walked through the tunnel, laughing and chatting—until they stepped onto the sideline and saw Roy standing with the pitchkeeper, arms crossed, looking like he was seconds away from punching something.

Y/N’s steps slowed. That was never a good sign.

The pitchkeeper rubbed the back of his neck. “Pipes under the pitch are fucked.”

“Fucking brilliant,” Roy muttered under his breath. He turned toward the team, voice gruff. “Pitch is flooded. Can’t train here.”

A collective groan rose from the women.

“What d’you mean can’t?” Y/N frowned, glancing at the field. Sure enough, there were massive puddles of water soaking the grass, turning the pitch into a swamp. “We’ve got a match in a few days. We need to train, coach.”

Roy exhaled sharply, clearly thinking. Then, with a grumble, he pulled out his phone. “I’ll sort it.”

The team exchanged glances as Roy stomped off, phone pressed to his ear. A few seconds later, his voice carried back to them.

“Oi, Ted. Yeah, I need a favor.”

Y/N arched a brow.

Ted Lasso? Well. This would be interesting.

Roy returned ten minutes later, his usual scowl firmly in place. “Right,” he grunted. “You lot are training with the men’s team.”

A murmur rippled through the squad, half-surprised, half-amused.

“Wait, seriously?” Niamh asked.

“No, I’m fuckin’ joking.” Roy glared. “Ted’s agreed to let us use the pitch, but we’re combining sessions. So unless any of you delicate fuckin’ flowers have a problem with that—”

He was cut off by the sound of boots against the pavement. The women turned to see the AFC Richmond men’s team already on their pitch, mid-training.

Y/N squinted toward the field, watching them pass the ball around in warm-ups. Richmond’s usual stars were all there—Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes—along with a few new faces. And then there was him.

Jamie Tartt.

Richmond’s number 9.

He was cocky, arrogant, and, as far as Y/N was concerned, the definition of a twat.

She had, of course, seen him play before—both in matches and in training when the men’s and women’s teams had shared the stadium. And as much as she hated to admit it, he was good. He played with a kind of self-assurance that she recognized all too well. The same way she played.

Annoyingly, he also happened to be fit as fuck, but that was beside the point.

Y/N was still watching him weave through defenders when her teammate Aoife suddenly cupped her hands around her mouth and whistled toward the men’s team.

“Oi, lads! Lookin’ good out there!”

The women’s team burst into laughter as a few of the men looked over in surprise. Dani Rojas grinned and waved enthusiastically. Colin smirked. Sam shook his head, chuckling.

Jamie, though—Jamie clocked Y/N immediately.

His eyes flickered over her, sharp and assessing, before he smirked. “You lot finally decided to watch some proper football, yeah?”

Y/N scoffed, folding her arms. “Oh, don’t feckin' flatter yourself, lad.”

Jamie’s brows lifted, clearly not expecting the immediate pushback. But then—annoyingly—his smirk deepened. “Irish, huh? That why you’re runnin’ your mouth?”

“Oh, you ain’t seen anythin' yet, Tartt.”

Ted’s whistle cut through the air before Jamie could respond. The men’s team jogged toward their coach, only sparing a few more glances at the women.

Roy turned toward the squad. “Alright, we’re splittin’ the pitch. Half and half. You lot do not get in each other’s way.”

Y/N rolled her shoulders, already focused on training. But as the whistle blew and they started drills, she could still feel Jamie’s eyes on her.

Fine, then. If he wanted to watch, she’d give him something to look at.

Jamie Tartt wasn’t used to being surprised.

But as he watched the women’s team train, eyes tracking Y/N, he found himself… well, stumped.

She played exactly like him.

Same flashy footwork. Same cocky confidence. Same absolute refusal to take the easy pass when she could humiliate a defender instead.

He’d seen plenty of talented players before—hell, he played with some of the best—but he had never seen someone who moved like him.

It was annoying.

And a little bit hot.

Jamie frowned, standing near the midfield line as the men continued their passing drill. He hadn’t realized he was openly staring until Sam nudged him.

“Careful, mate,” Sam teased, a knowing smile on his face. “You’re looking a little… distracted.”

Jamie scoffed. “Nah. Just—watchin’, innit.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam exchanged a look with Dani, who grinned.

“She is very good, yes?” Dani said. “A proper joy to watch!”

Jamie didn’t like how much he agreed.

His frown deepened as he watched Y/N take on two defenders at once. Instead of passing, she feinted to the left, rolled the ball under her foot, and absolutely sent one of her teammates with a fake shot before burying the ball in the top corner.

The women’s team cheered. Y/N turned, beaming, and Jamie could feel the smugness radiating off her from across the pitch.

“Oh, fuck off,” he muttered under his breath.

At that moment, Ted’s whistle cut through the air again.

“Alright, folks, bring it in!”

The teams gathered in the middle of the pitch, forming two loose circles. Ted, ever the optimist, was practically beaming as he clapped his hands together.

“Well, I gotta say,” he said. “I am lovin’ what I’m seein’ today. Y’all are puttin’ on a clinic out here.”

“‘Cept for Tartt, who’s too busy ogling instead of trainin’,” Isaac muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The men chuckled. The women did too, though Y/N just arched a brow, looking Jamie up and down like she was deciding whether or not he was even worth her time.

Jamie crossed his arms. “Ain’t oglin’.”

“Oh, so you weren’t checkin’ me out?” Y/N shot back. “That’s scarleh, Jamie. Here I thought I had a fan.” (scarleh = Irish. embarrassing/tragic)

A couple of oooohs went up from the women’s team.

Jamie felt a flicker of irritation. He tilted his head, smirking. “I mean, you are a bit of a show-off, yeah? But you can’t be all that if you still play for Richmond.”

Y/N didn’t even flinch. “You play for Richmond too, ya tosser.”

Jamie opened his mouth—then shut it.

Roy, who had been listening to this whole exchange with an ever-deepening scowl, cut in. “Alright, that’s enough.” He exhaled sharply, looking between the two teams. “Since you lot can’t seem to shut the fuck up, I got an idea.”

Ted grinned. “I think I know where you’re goin’ with this, Coach.”

“Men against women,” Roy said. “One half. See who’s actually worth talkin’ about.”

The teams erupted in noise—cheers, laughter, shit-talking from both sides.

Jamie, though?

He just looked at Y/N.

And she looked right back.

A challenge.

Jamie’s smirk returned. “You sure you wanna embarrass yourself like that, Irish?”

Y/N took a step closer, tilting her head. “I dunno, Manc. You ready to lose to a girl?”

Jamie’s heart thumped.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

The teams spread out across the pitch, both sides brimming with energy. The men’s team looked confident—maybe too confident—while the women were locked in, ready to prove a point.

Y/N stood at the center circle, rolling her shoulders as she prepared for kickoff. Jamie was only a few feet away, arms crossed, watching her with that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face.

“You nervous, Irish?” he drawled.

Y/N exhaled a laugh. “Mate, the only thing I’m nervous about is how bruised your ego’s gonna be after this.”

Jamie just grinned. “Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

The whistle blew.

And just like that, they were off.

Sam passed the ball back to Jamie, who turned smoothly, scanning the field. But before he could even make his first move, Y/N was on him—closing the space, pressing high, forcing him to act fast.

Jamie barely got his pass off before she nearly nicked the ball off him.

He frowned.

Alright.

That was how it was gonna be?

Fine.

The match played out fast—faster than Jamie had expected. The women’s team weren’t just holding their own; they were giving it to the men.

Y/N was relentless. Every time Jamie got the ball, she was right there, tracking his movements like she’d been studying him for years.

And it was pissing him off.

She played like she had something to prove. Every touch was clean, every movement sharp, every decision calculated to make Jamie’s life harder. She wasn’t just playing to win—she was playing to embarrass him.

And it was working.

Fifteen minutes in, the women’s team broke through on a counterattack. Niamh sent a gorgeous ball over the top, perfectly weighted, and Y/N—of course it was Y/N—was already sprinting onto it.

Jamie turned and chased, pushing himself harder.

They were shoulder to shoulder now, both flying toward the box, neither willing to back down.

Y/N threw a quick feint, shifting her weight like she was about to cut inside—then didn’t, instead nudging the ball forward at the last second.

Jamie took the bait.

Just for a fraction of a second.

But that was all she needed.

In one fluid motion, she pulled away, her left foot striking the ball cleanly—

—And burying it in the bottom corner.

The women’s team erupted.

Jamie, breathing hard, could only watch as Y/N slowed to a stop, grinning.

And then—just to really piss him off—she did his celebration.

The stupid little wrist-kiss, hands-to-the-sky thing he always did.

Jamie’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, you fuckin’ did not just—”

Y/N turned to him, smirking. “What’s wrong, Tartt?” She tapped her wrist like she was checking a watch. “Don’t like the taste of your own medicine, do ya?”

Jamie blinked. His whole brain short-circuited for a second.

And then he burst out laughing.

Because fuck.

He might actually be in trouble with this one.

The game didn’t slow down after Y/N’s goal. If anything, it got worse.

Jamie played harder. Not just because his pride was at stake, but because every time Y/N touched the ball, she made something happen. It was driving him mad.

Every flick, every trick, every little smug look she sent his way—it was like she was daring him to keep up.

And, fuck, he wanted to.

The match ended in a 2-2 draw—Dani and Colin had pulled the men’s team back, but Y/N had assisted a late equalizer that shut them right up.

When the final whistle blew, neither team looked disappointed. The women had proved their point. The men, despite their initial cockiness, were grinning, clearly impressed.

Except Jamie.

Jamie was frustrated.

Not because of the match—well, partly because of the match—but mostly because he’d never met anyone who made him feel like this.

It wasn’t just the competition. He loved competition. It was the fact that Y/N—this loud, cocky, Irish striker—had waltzed onto his pitch and played like him.

She got under his skin in a way no one else ever had.

And worse, he liked it.

The teams gathered near the sidelines, clapping each other on the back, exchanging handshakes and playful shit-talk. Y/N, of course, was in the middle of it all, glowing like she’d just won the fucking World Cup.

Jamie found himself walking toward her before he even realized what he was doing.

She spotted him approaching and smirked, hands on her hips. “What’s wrong? You look a little tense.”

Jamie exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, just tryna figure out how someone with your weak-ass left foot managed to score on me.”

Y/N gasped in mock offense. “Oh, you wish my left foot was weak.”

Jamie grinned. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Y/N stepped closer, eyes gleaming with challenge. “Careful, Tartt. You keep lookin’ at me like that, I’ll think you fancy me.”

Jamie’s smirk didn’t falter. “Yeah? What if I do?”

Y/N blinked.

For a split second, Jamie swore he saw her falter.

But then—just as quick—she recovered, laughing like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world.

“Oh, you’re a cocky little shit, aren’t ya?” she said, grinning.

Jamie tilted his head. “Takes one to know one, Irish.”

Y/N just hummed, looking him up and down. “You’re not completely hopeless, I s’pose.”

Jamie watched as she turned, walking back toward her team without another word.

And fuck.

He was definitely in trouble with this one.

The next morning, Y/N arrived at training to bad news.

“Still flooded,” Roy announced as the women gathered around him, arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Pipes are completely fucked. Dunno when they’ll be fixed.”

A collective groan rippled through the team.

“You’re jokin’,” Aoife muttered.

“Do I look like I’m fuckin’ jokin’?” Roy shot back, eyes narrowing. “We’re training with the men again.”

"Let's leg it, ladies," Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. It wasn’t that she hated training with the men’s team—okay, maybe she did a little, but only because it meant spending more time with Jamie Tartt.

And she was already very fucking sick of Jamie Tartt.

As if the universe was trying to make her life harder, the teams were partnered up for drills—and of course, Roy, in his infinite wisdom, put her with Jamie.

The second his name was called next to hers, Jamie grinned.

“Oh, you feckin’ planned this, didn’t you?” Y/N muttered at Roy.

Roy, in classic Roy fashion, just grunted and walked away.

“Relax, Irish,” Jamie said, stepping beside her, smug as ever. “It ain’t that bad.”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Jaysus Christ. Let’s just get this over with.”

The first half of training was tolerable. Barely. They did passing drills, finishing exercises, one-on-ones. It was competitive—way too competitive for training—but at least they weren’t actually touching each other.

Until suddenly every drill became a war.

Sprints? She had to beat Jamie. If she ran a 12.3-second sprint, Jamie would push for 12.2. If Jamie hit 15 keep-ups, Y/N would make sure she did 16.

It wasn’t just competition anymore. It was personal.

During a finishing drill, Y/N watched Jamie attempt a ridiculous Rabona shot from outside the box. It went in—just—but she rolled her eyes anyway.

"Show-off," she muttered.

Jamie turned to her, smirking. "Oh, please. You love it."

Y/N scoffed. "Mate, I’ve seen under-12s do better."

"That so?" Jamie arched a brow, stepping closer. "Alright, then. Let’s see you top it, Irish."

Y/N wasn't about to back down.

She grabbed a ball, took a few steps back, and, without breaking eye contact, executed the filthiest outside-foot curler into the top corner.

The entire team howled.

"Fucking hell," Colin muttered.

"She is better than you, Jamie," Dani chirped.

Jamie, to his credit, just chuckled. But Y/N could see it—the way his jaw tightened, the flicker of something sharp in his eyes.

He liked the fight.

And fuck, so did she.

Until they got to the last drill.

The worst, though—the actual worst—the partnered stretching.

Y/N immediately turned to Roy. “Are you takin’ the piss, ya feckin' chancer?”

Roy ignored her, just mumbled something that sounded like watch it.

Jamie, on the other hand, looked delighted.

“What’s wrong, Irish?” he teased, stepping closer. “Scared to get a little close?”

Y/N should have walked away. Should have told Roy to swap her partner.

She was already annoyed that she’d been paired with Jamie, and now she was sitting on the grass across from him, her hands pressed against his shoulders, trying to ignore the fact that he was stupidly warm under her palms.

Jamie smirked as he spread his legs into a seated stretch. “Go on, then. Show me what you got.”

Y/N shot him a look. “If you make one inappropriate comment, I will kick you in the face.”

Jamie grinned. “No promises.”

She ignored him, placing her hands on his shoulders again, this time steadier, pushing gently to deepen his stretch. His muscles tensed under her palms, solid and warm, and fuck—why was she noticing that?

Jamie held her gaze, still smirking, but there was something else in his eyes now. Something sharp. Something teasing.

Something interested.

Jamie smirked. "Enjoyin’ yourself there, Irish?"

She pushed harder. "Touch me again, and I’ll break your fingers."

Jamie chuckled. "Touch you again? Babe, you’re the one feelin’ me up."

Y/N shoved him.

Jamie just laughed. Roy gave both of them a warning look from the sidelines.

Y/N cleared her throat and put her hands on Jamie's shoulders again, this time pushing harder than necessary. “Oi, what? You can handle Premier League defenders, but not a simple stretch.”

Jamie chuckled, voice lower now. “Nah, I can handle it.” He let his gaze drop—just for a second—then met her eyes again. “Question is—can you?”

Y/N inhaled sharply.

She hated him.

She really, really hated him.

And yet, when they switched places and Jamie grabbed her hips to pull her into a stretch, she damn near forgot how to breathe.

Jamie’s hands slid to her hips, firm, fingers pressing just enough to send something dangerous skittering up her spine.

Oh, she was in trouble.

"Relax," he murmured, voice lower now, more amused. "Ain't gonna bite."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Pity. You look like the type to."

Jamie blinked. Then—so fucking slowly—it turned into a smirk.

"Wouldn't dream of it, although you look delicious," he said.

Y/N yanked herself out of the stretch immediately.

The problem with training together every day from now on was that accidents happened.

Too many players in too little space. Too many challenges. Too many bodies moving too fast.

And somehow, somehow, in all the hustle and bustle on the pitch Y/N and Jamie kept ending up right on top of each other.

One-on-one drills. Y/N tackled Jamie so hard they both hit the grass, tangled together in a heap.

"Jesus, Irish," Jamie grunted, blinking up at her. "You tryin’ to kill me?"

Y/N, still half on top of him, smirked. "What, can't handle a little pressure?"

Jamie’s hands tightened around her waist for half a second—too long to be innocent—before he smirked at the position they are in. "I'm good with pressure—even better with you on top of me."

Y/N scrambled off him so fast she nearly tripped.

By the end of the week, everyone was talking about them.

"You see them today?" Colin muttered to Isaac as they finished up a passing drill. "It's weird, right?"

"So weird," Isaac muttered back. "They're like... the same person. Different accent."

"They even run the same," Sam added, frowning.

Dani, of course, was delighted.

"They are meant to be!" he declared, positively buzzing. "A true football romance!"

Ted, overhearing, grinned. "Now that is somethin’ I can get behind."

Roy, standing nearby, grunted.

He had been watching, too. Watching the way Y/N and Jamie bickered. Watching the way they shoved each other, how they competed, how Jamie looked at her.

He knew exactly what was happening.

And he did not like it.

"Oi, Tartt," he barked.

Jamie turned, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"

Roy narrowed his eyes. "Stay focused."

Jamie grinned. "Always, Coach Kent."

Roy scowled.

He was gonna have to keep a fucking eye on this.

For the past two weeks, training had been hell.

Jamie and Y/N hadn’t stopped competing, hadn’t stopped pushing, hadn’t stopped getting in each other’s heads.

And today?

Today, it boiled over.

It started during a small-sided game—men versus women, just like their first match.

Jamie and Y/N were marking each other. Because of course they were.

Neither had backed down the entire session. Every pass, every run, every fucking look they exchanged was a silent dare.

Then, Y/N got the ball.

Jamie closed in immediately, pressing high, forcing her to turn her back to goal.

She was strong, but Jamie had trained against some of the best defenders in the world. He stepped in, body to body, using his weight to push her off balance.

Y/N dug her cleats into the grass. Held her ground.

Jamie smirked. “Gonna need to do better than that, Irish.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, shifting her weight—then spun him, hard, using his momentum against him.

Jamie stumbled.

And that was it.

That was the moment he snapped.

She was gone, sprinting toward goal, but Jamie didn’t think. He just reacted—lunging forward, going in for the challenge with more force than he should have.

Their legs tangled.

Y/N went down.

Hard.

Coach Beard's whistle blew.

And suddenly, Y/N was on Jamie, shoving at his chest.

“The feck was that Jamie?” she snapped, furious, eyes blazing.

Jamie stepped closer, jaw tight. “It was a tackle.”

“No, it was a fucking cheap shot, you arsehole!”

Jamie should have backed off. Should have apologized. Should have done anything but what he actually did:

He laughed.

“Oh, piss off,” he muttered. “You give it, but you can’t take it?”

Y/N shoved him again.

Jamie’s smirk vanished.

It was too close now.

Too much heat.

Too much everything.

Y/N’s chest was heaving, her hair a mess, her hands still curled into fists like she was deciding whether to hit him or grab him by the collar.

Jamie clenched his jaw. “You done?”

Y/N glared. “Fuck you, Tartt. You're a right pain in the hole.”

And before either of them could do something really stupid—

“WHISTLE. ENOUGH.”

Roy’s voice cut through the tension like a knife.

The entire pitch went silent.

Roy marched over, face thunderous, eyes locked onto Jamie and Y/N like he was about to personally kill both of them.

Jamie huffed a breath, stepping back. Y/N crossed her arms, still fuming.

Roy glared. “You two—inside. Now.”

Neither of them moved.

“NOW.”

Jamie and Y/N exchanged a look—one last sharp, defiant flash of heat—before stalking off toward the locker room.

Roy followed.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Roy paced for a second, rubbing a hand down his face before turning on Y/N first.

“What the fuck was that?” he snapped.

Y/N’s eyes blazed. “Ask him,” she shot back, jerking a thumb toward Jamie. “He’s the one who went in like a fucking pox—” (pox = Irish: annoying person)

“Oh, please—” Jamie started, but Roy cut him off.

“Shut the fuck up! You both are acting like the prince and princess of fucking pricks.”

Silence.

Roy exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look,” he muttered, voice gruff. “I don’t give a shit what’s goin’ on between you two—”

“Nothing’s goin' on,” Jamie and Y/N said at the exact same time.

Roy’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, fuckin’ really?” he muttered. “Then explain why the entire fucking team won’t shut up about you two? Explain why you spend every second of training staring at each other? Explain why you’re both actin’ like a pair of horny, brainless fuckin’ teenagers?”

Neither of them spoke.

Because—fuck.

They couldn’t.

Roy scowled. “Listen, I don’t care what the fuck this is, but it stops now. You hear me? I ain’t havin’ my best player distracted because some little Manc twat’s makin’ eyes at her.”

Jamie bristled. “Ain’t makin’ eyes—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Jamie,” Roy snapped. “You are, and it’s fuckin’ pathetic.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.

Roy turned back to Y/N.

“I mean it,” he said, voice low now, serious. “You’re better than this shit. I’ve been where you are. I know what it’s like to get distracted by—”

He stopped. Cleared his throat.

Y/N blinked.

Oh.

Oh, that was what this was about.

Roy Kent, legendary footballer, had been there. He’d been young, cocky, talented. Had been distracted. Had let himself get derailed.

He wasn’t just pissed—he cared.

Y/N swallowed, shifting her weight. “It’s not like that,” she muttered.

Roy just looked at her.

Y/N sighed, looking away. “Alright. Fine. We’ll knock it off.”

Roy didn’t look convinced but grunted anyway.

“Good.” He turned to Jamie. “And you—you pull that shit again, I’ll fucking end you. Fouling my best player in a fucking training match.”

Jamie gave a lazy salute. “Understood, Coach.”

Roy narrowed his eyes at both of them, then turned and walked out, muttering under his breath the entire way.

As soon as the door shut, Jamie sighed dramatically and leaned against the lockers.

“Well,” he drawled. “That was fun.”

Y/N scoffed. “Fuck off outta here, Jamie.”

Jamie chuckled. “Oh, come on, Irish,” he teased. “You’re not a little bit turned on right now?”

Y/N threw her water bottle at his head.

Jamie ducked, laughing, and Y/N—despite herself—felt the tiniest pull at the corner of her lips.

Yeah. She was in so much fucking trouble.

Y/N was determined.

Roy was right.

Jamie Tartt was a distraction.

So today, she was going to do what she should’ve done from the start—shut it down. No banter. No competition. No lingering looks.

Just football.

It lasted exactly twenty minutes.

Y/N ignored him in the hallways of Nelson Road.

She ignored him during warmups.

She ignored him when they lined up for passing drills and he smirked at her like he knew what she was doing.

But Jamie? Jamie lived for this shit.

“Oi, Irish,” he called as she settled into position for the drill. “You alright? You’re awfully quiet today.”

Y/N exhaled sharply. Did not look at him. Did not engage.

Jamie grinned. “Awww. You miss me already.”

Nothing.

Jamie hummed, juggling the ball lazily. “Y’know, studies say that bottlin’ up emotions ain’t good for you. You can tell me if you like havin’ me around.”

Y/N focused on her breathing. In. Out. Don’t kill him.

The team was already starting to notice.

Sam, standing nearby, bit back a laugh. Dani practically vibrated with excitement. Colin muttered, "This is a bad idea," for the fourth time that morning.

But Y/N refused to break.

Which, of course, only made Jamie worse.

During sprints, he jogged next to her, flashing a shit-eating grin every time she glanced his way.

During keep-away drills, he intercepted one of her passes, then leaned in as he returned it.

“Bit sloppy, that,” he murmured. “You feelin’ alright?”

Y/N clenched her jaw. Don’t react.

She went to the gym late that night, hoping to clear her head. The gym at Nelson Road was usually empty this late. The men’s and women’s teams had long since finished for the day, and most of the staff had gone home.

But when Y/N pushed open the door, she immediately spotted him.

Jamie Tartt.

On the treadmill.

Shirt damp with sweat.

Hair a mess, sticking to his forehead.

Moving at a ridiculously fast pace, like he was trying to outrun something.

Like her.

Y/N swore under her breath. Of fucking course.

Jamie must have heard the door because he glanced over his shoulder—then immediately slowed to a jog, a smirk curling at his lips.

“Can’t stay away from me, huh?”

Y/N let the door swing shut behind her. “I could say the same to you.”

Jamie huffed a laugh, tapping the treadmill speed down until he came to a stop. “This is my routine, Irish.” He grabbed a towel from the side, wiping the sweat from his neck. “You, though? This is new.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’ll be gone in twenty.”

Jamie tilted his head. “Oh, come on, Irish. Don’t pretend you don’t love this.”

Jamie was watching her as she grabbed a dumbbell and dropped into a lunge, not dignifying him with an answer.

“You alright?” he asked, voice lighter now. Less teasing.

Y/N exhaled. Focused on her form. “Fine. Grand.”

Jamie hummed. “Dunno. You looked real wound up today.”

Y/N clenched her jaw. Ignored him.

“Didn’t say one word to me all session,” Jamie continued, grabbing his water bottle. “Thought maybe you’d lost your voice.”

Y/N switched legs. Didn’t look at him.

Jamie smirked. “Or maybe you were just trying to ignore me.”

Y/N dropped the dumbbell louder than necessary.

“Jaysus, Tartt.” She turned to him, exasperated. “Do you ever shut up?”

Jamie grinned. “Nah.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Shook her head. Reached for another weight.

And then—

Jamie stepped off the treadmill and closer to her.

Not much. Just a fraction. Just enough that she could feel him now, warm in the quiet, empty gym.

His voice dropped. “So, which is it?”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

Jamie tilted his head. “You ignoring me ‘cause you hate me? Or ‘cause you don’t?”

The air changed.

Y/N’s grip tightened on the weight. “Would ya ever fuck off, Jamie?”

Jamie chuckled, voice lower now. “Awww, c’mon, Irish.” He took another small step, invading her space, gaze flickering over her face. “Admit it.”

Y/N refused to look up. “Admit what?”

Jamie leaned in. “You like it.”

Y/N swallowed. “Like what?”

Jamie’s smirk deepened. “That I get under your skin.”

Y/N’s entire body tensed.

Because fuck him. Because he was right. Because he wasn’t supposed to know that.

Jamie watched her—watched the flicker of something dangerous cross her face, watched the way her hands tightened, watched the way her breath hitched just slightly.

Then, so fucking slowly—

He reached past her, grabbing a towel from the bench behind her.

Their arms brushed.

Y/N froze.

Jamie’s smirk faltered.

For the first time, his teasing edge dropped.

It was just quiet now.

Just them.

His eyes flickered to her lips.

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

Jamie inhaled—sharp, steady, deliberate. His fingers twitched.

Y/N felt it happening—that moment. The one where she knew she should step back but didn’t. The one where Jamie should make another joke but didn’t. Everything felt slow.

And then—

The door swung open.

“Oi, anyone in here—oh, fuck, sorry.”

They sprung apart.

One of the Richmond Men's kit men—some kid barely out of university—Y/N thinks his name is Will—stood in the doorway, looking wildly uncomfortable.

Jamie cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, mate. We’re—uh—just trainin’.”

The kid looked between them. Clearly didn’t believe a fucking word.

“Right,” he said. “Well. Carry on.”

Then he bolted.

Silence.

Y/N exhaled slowly. Didn’t look at Jamie.

Jamie pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. Dragged a hand through his damp hair.

“Well,” he muttered. “That weren’t fuckin’ awkward at all.”

Y/N let out a breath—half a laugh, half fucking hell, what just happened?

Then, without another word, she grabbed her bag and left.

Because if she stayed, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk away again.

And fuck, was that a problem.

To be continued...

[frizz-bee-2]

I'm cooked guys

[katyobsesses]

gah scare call in an hour or so i don't wannaaaaaaaaaaa

[writersblockiskillingme]

Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Prequel to this fic here!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

[rhys-ravenfeather]

Off now.

Today was really good!

I had the day off, so that gave me lots of time to torture myself ink my latest drawing, get caught up with those videos I was hoping to, head off to the mall for a bit, and even talk about some stuff in my Discord server!

Welp, I have work tomorrow, along with...something else, so yeah, I’ll see you guys when I see you.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"Who is this Karen?"

Preview: How the boys react to a Karen lashing out at you?

Warnings: Slightly longer read than usual, but you get to see how they talk smack to a Karen for disrespecting you :>

ZAYNE

You stood in line, awaiting for your turn to get into the popular restaurant that you and Zayne were planning to try out. Zayne had dropped you off in order to search for a parking spot, claiming that it is way more efficient for one to just wait in line. Right when it was about to be your turn, you stood up, smoothing your skirt and stepped up towards the reception table but someone had beat you to it, pushing you physically to get you out of their way, risking you nearly stumbling. "Hey." You reprimanded the lady in the big red coat, her head tilting towards you with a scrunched up frown on her face. "You can't just do that, you have to line up according to your turn."

The lady scoffed and simply waved her hand off, mocking you in a tone you had never heard from anyone in your life. "Apparently you do not know that this restaurant runs on a star rating don't you darling? First-comers like you should shut up and wait while VIPs like me deserve to be tended to first." You were in a state of disbelief, slack-jawed, fists tightened, ready to mutter a string of colourful curse words in front of this lady before a hand gripped onto your shoulders and you turned.

Zayne stood next to you, assessing the situation that he had spotted from afar as he was coming closer to the restaurant. "Are you alright?" He glanced down towards your legs, to spot for any injury but when he noticed nothing stood out, he rubbed your back as a comforting gesture before he stepped forth towards the woman. "Excuse me." He stated and the lady turned, with the same expression as the first time. "I believe you have to be in line. It wasn't right for you to push someone just to get in front of the line."

"You are not the restaurant owner, talk to me again and I will call the police." Her voice was up an octave now, clearly offended at the both of you calling her out on her mistakes. "This is a restaurant that runs on point systems! Do your research before coming onto me you brats!" Zayne seemed indifferent towards her, she is just like another patient of his that may be suffering a psychotic episode amidst treatment. It is no stranger to a doctor of his calliber.

"Scream much more, and you will get wrinkles on your face." Zayne drew air signs, marking out the spots on her face. His tone was collected, informative even. "Your lips are peeling and your skin is sagging on the edge of your jaw. If I were you, I would get myself checked out for any cardiac anomalies." His statement made the lady gasped in horror, hands immediately flying up to touch her cheeks. Zayne only took his phone out and showing her his medical ID. "Just some words of advice from a fellow cardiac surgeon. You should not delay any further, I think your heart requires immediate attention." He quirked an eyebrow and watched as the lady panicked, albeit judging him silently under her breath and stepping off to get back into her car (that was parked illegally by the street) to leave.

With the lady leaving, the both of you managed to secure your seats fairly quickly. Walking into the restaurant, you turned to ask Zayne about the diagnosis earlier on and he replied with a soft chuckle. "It works once you flash them the ID." He pulled out the chair for you as he always would, waiting for you to be seated before he continues, seating himself down. "No harm in fighting stupidity with stupidity."

RAFAYEL

"So, today we will be going to this beach that I had always been talking about. Are you excited?" Rafayel turned his head over to you when he is at a red light, smiling at you and taking your smaller hand into his. He placed a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand and proceeded to rev his engine when the lights turned green. The date had been planned for more than a week as Rafayel was busy with exhibitions and you too, with your own work. Hence, when the time comes for the both of you to meet, it is only natural for your boyfriend to plan for a romantic getaway.

Approaching the beach, you could taste the brine in the air when Rafayel had opened the roof on his convertible to let you get a better view of the ocean. The seas are mimicking the skies, one owning dashes of sparkles while the other has fluffy cotton balls hung on them, both adding up to be a picturesque scene. It was a right choice for Rafayel to make judging by how enamoured you are with the scene ahead of you. He revved into a driveway and parked right next a red sedan, alerting the lady next to them. "Who do you think you are?" She immediately questioning, sunglasses pushed up onto the top of her head when she squinted her eyes to get a better view of the both of you. "You are going to hit my car!"

Rafayel nonchalantly got out of the car, hands thrown up in an act of surrender. "Lady, calm down. We mean no harm." He then sauntered over to your side to open your side of the door, holding his hand out for you to take, all while still trying to hold a reasonable conversation with the lady who had not stopped accusing him of wanting to hit her car. "As I've said lady, I do not have the wish to hurt anyone. I apologise if my skills scared you." Due to his indifference, it only got the Karen riled up, stomping out of her car and coming right up to both of you. Rafayel instinctively shielded you, his height still towered over the woman.

"THIS IS MY BEACH AND YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO TRESSPASS, YOU HEAR ME YOUNG MAN?!" She angrily pointed a finger at him, her bikini suggested she is here for the beach as well. "So it is either you both get the hell out of here, or I am calling the cops." Grabbing her phone out of her small clutch, she begin dialing the number on it and pressing it to her ear. You looked towards Rafayel with a worried expression, but he only held a smirk as he listened in on her conversation. "Yes! This man with a convertible is trying to kill me in a crash--yeah, okay you talk to him!"

Then she handed her phone over to Rafayel, which he took into his hands and pressed it against his ear. For a man who seemingly 'broke-the-law', Rafayel is not taunted. "Hey there, yeah. Yeah that's me. Yeah, she is claiming that this beach belongs to her." His eyes glinted a hint of playfulness, smile widening at the Karen. "Can I report this for tresspassing or...okay, yeah, I'll call you back if she starts anything on MY BEACH." Specifically emphasising his words, the woman choked onto her breath, looking at Rafayel as he gave her back her phone and tilting his head, still smiling. "A word of advice, next time, if you're gonna play with fire, just be ready to get burned, yeah?"

SYLUS

Sylus would rather be surrounded by thousands of the strongest wanderers now than to be in the grocery store with you right now. This burly, manly man does not see himself to be a fitting piece of a puzzle within a grocery store. Everywhere his eyes darted, he catches sight of men with beer bellies pushing carts with babies while referring to a long, floor-panning grocery list, or a mother who has too many children to provide welfare for, or maybe a family where most of the time the wife is the ruler of the house. No, Sylus is not a sexist, he just holds too much of an ego for his masculinity that he feels like he does not belong in a grocery store. Staring down at you, he sighed inwardly. Regardless of what he had thought of, what he held as a belief, here he is still, nothing different than those wife-pleasers he witnessed littered all over the store.

“How long are we going to be here for?” He groaned, holding up the basket slightly higher when you had gotten your pick of the better watermelon. “N109 does not run by itself given its current glory you know.” His mockery only got you rolling your eyes at him. You would admit, he is a scary man for the eyes, but once you had gotten to know him, gosh, this man would bow to puppy eyes and wheedling words. Feeling your throat getting scratchy again, you pointed at the vitamin water that was placed in the basket and Sylus cracked open the cap then handed it to you. You gulped the drink down your throat, trying to gain moisture to rid it of the scratchy feeling before you felt someone tapped on your shoulder and you turned around.

The lady who tapped your shoulder was skinny, body the shape of a trunk and with hair so blossoming that Sylus may have outwardly mocked her to be a tree. But the man does watch his mouth whenever he is around you. “Young lady, you can’t drink from the bottle like that without paying for it! That is called stealing!” Her loud exclamation got some people turning their heads and you could feel the embarrassment crawling up your back. You fumbled with the cap and was about to say sorry before your boyfriend took up the space next to you, his 6”2’ height made the woman looked like a garden gnome, with weird tree-like hair.

“Why can’t she? She is paying for it afterall.” The corners of his lips curled up, but it resembled an amused smirk rather than a smile as he watched the lady below him started to act out. If he were to be alone right now, there is no doubt that this woman would perish before she could utter another word. But, as what he had always believed in, violence is only to be utilised strategically. And using it on this lady, in front of you, in a public area, would result in serious consequences, so he decided not to. But, this does not mean he would back down either.

“You are supposed to buy things before you consume them. Don’t you know how the law works?” The lady was clearly pissed, voice raising even higher to create a scene. “I am going to call the store manager on you to get you and your girlfriend reported for stealing!” At this rate, she would only cause more trouble than necessary. Sylus simply clicked his tongue with a ‘tch’ and he tilted his head slightly, his right eye taking colour of a bright scarlet. Then, you watch as the woman in front of you tripped over nothing and she fell face-first. You gasped, wanting to go forward to help her but an unseeable force held you back and it got you figuring out the cause of her trip. Sylus was using his energy manipulation skills to get her to practically trip on air.

“Let’s go.” Without wasting anymore time, he grabbed onto your hand, his smirk widening as he lead you to walk through the aisles to get to the counter to check out your items. When he was confronted with why he did that, the confident man simply quirked up one of his thick eyebrow and retaliated. “You think I would back down easily if anyone comes at you like that princess? I would downplay the act of punishment for your sake, but I won't stay idle like a trophy husband sweetie.”

XAVIER

Xavier had came up with the idea to bring you along for some clothes shopping for the upcoming team building event which involves a masquerade ball. A couple of days ago, he had to sit through hours of you sifting through your closet, looking for any gowns that could be reused for the second time until you reached the realisation that you do not own a gown because 1) it’s not practical and 2) it’s a huge waste of money and 3) it does not fit your usual aesthetic for clothings.

"How about this one?" Xavier asked when he pointed at a store with ball gowns being displayed at their windows. Observing your hesitation to step into the store, he grabbed onto your hand and started leading you towards it. The pull was a bit of a drag however as you were stumping your feet onto the ground from wanting to enter such a boujee store. God knows how much those dresses would cost. "It's alright y/n, I will pay for it okay? You don't have to fret about a gown for days. Come on."

After getting assisted by the salesperson, you had managed to pick out a few outfits and you slotted yourself into one of the fitting booths to try them on. At the meantime, Xavier sat on the bench outside, scrolling through his phone mindlessly while he waited for you. He noticed a shadow loomed over him and he looked up, seeing a lady in her mid-40s looking down at him. "Is someone in the fitting booth?" Xavier nodded his head in return, stating that his girlfriend is inside. "Can you ask her to hurry up a little? I am pressed for time and I need to try on this outfit."

"Guess you will have to wait till she is done. She is only at her first dress." Xavier spoke calmly, already sensing discomfort from the way the lady had spoken to him. The curtain to the fitting booth then slid opened and you stepped out, adorning a blue sequin dress that matches the shade of Xavier's irises and he smiled in return, standing up and blatantly ignoring the lady as he walked up to you, gesturing his finger for you to turn and to show him the full outfit.

It was a sweet moment until you were interrupted. "Can you hurry up missy? I am in a rush and I need to try this on." She held up a dress in her hand, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "FYI, this dress does not fit you, you look fat in it." Your eyes were widened immediately when the lady mocked you. When you turned to Xavier, he too, bear the same expression as you but he was quick to recover.

"I don't think that is a nice thing to say when you should be the one to look at yourself in the mirror." His jab at the lady made her face immediately turned red, all adrenaline rushing towards her head. Xavier crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head while sighing. "I guess there is no need for you to try on that dress of yours, because I'm pretty sure it won't fit you."

And the next thing you know, the lady was rambling, shouting towards the employees for being mistreated but here you stood, next to Xavier, who is not one bit phased by her behaviour. Your boyfriend only watches the show unfold in front of him, and pats the top of your head, smiling at you. “She started it first, I figured if it wasn’t for her, I would have fell asleep waiting for you to be done with your fittings.” And you gave him a hard punch against his shoulder.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Shift in the Routine

Author’s Note: Vibes are up from episode one of Hard Knocks starring Batman but I really wanted to write something angsty.

Part II

The morning started off with an entire 16 oz cup full of coffee spilling all over the kitchen floor. The brown puddle continued to spread and you watched in horror as the caramel frappuccino you’d just spent the last 20 minutes carefully curating to perfection went to waste. Then, your apartment key got stuck in the door, snapping in half so you had to make a call to your lovely landlord who charged you $150 to replace the key, and get the maintenance guy to come in and get your old key out. There went the money that you wanted to use to splurge on lunch.

Just when you thought you’d turned a corner for the better when you got off work early, your best friend Rachel called in a panic, putting an immediate end to the relaxing afternoon you had planned.

“Hi babe! I need you to do me a huge favor.”

You sighed, mentally saying goodbye to the Netflix binge on the couch with a fluffy blanket you were desperately looking forward to. “What’s up?“

She chuckles softly, breathing out a sound of relief that you were willing to help. “You know you’re my favorite person in the world, right?”

“What do you need Rach?” You bite out, your patience mostly nonexistent after such an awful day. Even her best attempt at buttering you up wouldn’t fix it.

“Okay, okay jeez. Who pissed in your cereal this morning? Anyways, I need you to run to my office and grab my other laptop. The one I have with me died and the tablet just isn’t cutting it right now,” you can hear her whispering to someone while you wait on the other end of the line for further instructions, “texting you the address as we speak.”

Your destination was 48 minutes away from her office, much closer to your job. Rachel owed you. Big time. “Fine. Be there in an hour.” You hung up a little in the midst of hearing her say “thank you” for the sixth time.

Rachel was an interior designer, working on some top secret project with a client for the last year, whose identity she refused to reveal, that was until today when she clearly had no choice. She’d apparently asked the client if it was ok for you to come to the house and they were clearly cool with it because the gate opened and the mansion you were faced with was unlike anything you’d ever seen. Every part of you wished you’d worn nicer clothes to work today.

Before you could even knock, your friend opened the door and ushered you in, plugging the laptop into one of the kitchen outlets and pulling up whatever she needed, thanking you again for saving her ass.

You looked around the room, exquisite marble covered the countertops, super cozy looking white swivel chairs and every square inch of the place just screamed luxury. “Who the hell lives here alone? Head of the mafia?”

Rachel snorts out a laugh, typing away without looking up at you.

“Not exactly,” a male voice is heard behind you, scaring you a little. And that makes Rachel laugh even more. “I assume you’re Rachel’s friend y/n.”

No fucking way.

You glance at Rachel before turning around to face him, nodding your head. “I’m so sorry your highness, you’re more…King of the Jungle, right? The mafia is more of a Bills thing.” All the secrecy made sense now and you turn towards her, your eyes full of disbelief.

“You signed an NDA didn’t you? Because I know you’re the world’s worst secret keeper and you’ve worked for the Bengals starting quarterback for a year and I haven’t heard a peep. Wait,” you look at him again, “does this mean I have to sign one?”

“Would you like to?” Joe deadpans, a hint of amusement pokes out behind his rigid exterior. He looks even better in person, you think to yourself.

“I have always wanted to sign one but I’ve never really been in the position to do that. But now…”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Rachel cuts in, “he’s not gonna make you sign anything, you don’t even know the gate code.”

Waving her off for ruining your fun, you grab your keys and get ready to head home when Joe’s voice stops you in your tracks for the second time in the last 20 minutes.

“You don’t want water or anything before you go? I have an entire fridge just for Voss water. The glass bottles.” His voice is so relaxed, a calming energy surrounds him and he delivers his words with such a casual tone like it’s not one of the most absurd things you’ve ever heard.

“Are you being serious?”

“No! I’m kidding,” he laughs, a genuine hearty sound that you hope to never forget. You need to leave this fortress as soon as humanly possible before you find yourself attracted to the way the man breathes.

Rachel has long forgotten the two of you are in the room, completely in the zone while deciding between white oak and alder so the gorgeous man walks you out. Has he always been this tall? “Rich and funny. It’s very nice to meet you Joe.”

He’s about to let you leave, but he doesn’t want to regret not going for it. “Would you—maybe want to um, see each other again? When you’re having less of a bad day? I promise there will be no coffee involved, just a little dinner?” This is a stark difference from his earlier nonchalance, you can tell he’s trying to keep the nerves at bay.

“You heard all of that?” You look at him wide-eyed. Of course Joe freaking Burrow heard you complaining about spilling coffee everywhere and damaging your keys, not your finest moments. And somehow, none of that deterred him from asking you out. “I’d love to. Rachel can give you my number and I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes, definitely.”

Dinner turned into dinner and a movie which turned into several nights of ordering in. That became FaceTime dates when he would travel across the country, helping him pick out clothes to wear for his foundation’s golf tournament or getting up at ungodly hours to answer his calls during Paris Fashion Week. Then he came home to lock in for the season but not before giving you a jump scare by randomly buzzing and bleaching his hair. Everything you thought you knew about him from the media or via word of mouth living the city, was nothing compared to actually getting to be with him. He was funny and kind and the most caring person in the world and you really owed Rachel your entire life for asking you to drop off that laptop.

Admittedly, you were nervous going into the season. You’d seen him go down last year in Baltimore, watching on tv like every other fan feeling helpless as his season ended. Now you’d seen first hand how much work had gone into not only getting him back to what he was before but transforming him into a better version of what he once was. And routine was everything. Workouts and meals were scheduled down to meticulous detail, meetings with his nutritionist and strength trainer happened frequently and the closer you got to week 1 the more dialed into the process he was. You just tried your best to navigate the controlled chaos.

Friday evening before you drove home after work, you made a pit-stop at Joe’s to drop something off. Having already decided that you were staying at your place for the rest of the weekend as to not be distraction, you placed your surprise in the fridge feeling proud of yourself before closing the door, meeting your boyfriend face to face.

“Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!” You playfully smacked his chest as he grabs onto your hands, enveloping you in a warm embrace. “I didn’t think I’d see you. Thought you’d be up to your eyebrows in New England film right now.”

“Took a break to grab a snack,” he sidesteps you to get to the fridge, taking a look inside before he spots the item you just placed in there. “What are these?”

You nod toward the tupperware in his hand, “open it.”

Joe carefully takes off the lid, looking at the contents inside like a kid on christmas morning, recognizing the look of his favorite dessert, with a twist.

“They’re protein pumpkin pie cups. The bottom is peanut butter.”

“Two of my favorite things. Well, three now, including you. Thank you.” You want to pretend to have a toothache at how sweet he’s being but instead you stand on your toes, inching your way up to kiss him on the lips and when you pull away to stand at your normal height he sneaks another kiss, pressing one onto the side of your head. It’s getting late and you really don’t want to leave, but you can’t mess up his routine. The next time you see him is after the loss, he’s understandably disappointed but also a little relieved to shake some of the rust off and come back more relaxed the next game.

Slowly but surely the losses piled up and they added more weight to his often slumped shoulders. You tried to lighten the load by being a constant presence, reminding him of how well he was playing, but the once comfortable, homey atmosphere that Joe created for you became tense. Long conversations about how the team could be better turned into shrugs, “I don’t knows” and exhausted sighs.

And now? The team was 4-8.

You’d been staying at Joe’s since the bye week ended just to make sure he wasn’t isolating himself and completely consumed by football. When he came home after the Steelers game you could instantly tell it was going to be a long night. As soon as he set foot in the door he dropped his bag off and headed up to his office without giving you so much as a glance.

Dinner was cold by the time he emerged again two hours later. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing. And you also didn’t want to just sit there and say nothing. The elephant in the room was doubling in size by the minute. “Joe, you—”

“If you’re about to say I played well you can just…not. I fumbled the ball twice and threw a pick. Three turnovers isn’t exactly a recipe for success.”

You closed your eyes, trying to come up with something that would get him to see things the way you did. “I know that, but you still fought your way back and you guys were so close to completing the comeback.”

His adam’s apple bobs uncomfortably slow as he swallows some of his frustration. None of this was your fault and he knew that. He just, really didn’t want to talk about it anymore today. He’d discussed it with the team, with coaches, the media. The game had ended long ago and he was still having to explain himself. Glancing at the clock, he let you know he was heading to bed and he was just…gone. No hug, no kiss on the cheek or anything. Which usually wouldn’t have bothered you but then you found him fast asleep with his back facing you. You climbed in behind him, treating him like the little spoon as you wrapped your arms around him but he easily removed himself from your grasp, covering himself with the blanket, mumbling something about not feeling like cuddling tonight. You had this overwhelming urge to cry so you turned away from him, squeezing your eyes shut, begging sleep to overtake you.

Waking up the next morning, you decide to shake off whatever that was last night. You texted Joe’s chef and asked him what was on the menu for tonight, thinking that a good meal and some lighthearted conversation was just the thing he needed. The work day was long and frustrating, some random sponsors came in to do some long winded presentation about the new health guidelines which was about as entertaining as watch Geno Stone miss tackles. One thing was motivating you to get through it and that was Morgan, Joe’s chef texting you that he would have everything ready when you got home and all you had to do was put your finishing touches on the evening.

All of the food was prepped, the table was set, candles lit and all you needed was Joe. You wait 45 minutes for him to walk in the door, looking surprised. “What is all this?”

“Nothing special, I just figured we could eat together before watching Monday Night Football in bed.”

The look on his face isn’t promising. “I already ate at the facility,” Joe says regretfully. He’s met with silence and it’s uncomfortable, worrying. “How was work?”

“I texted you,” your voice hardens, “twice. No response.”

“Wasn’t near my phone all day. We had a team meeting, guys said things that were on their minds and we had an open and honest conversation. I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”

You close your eyes, really trying not to cry about something so small. “Right, ok. How did your meeting go?”

“It was fine,” he shrugs, not divulging any other details and it irks you even more. Joe catches you massaging your temples, a clear sign that you’re stressed. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you echo his words, hoping he gets the hint, “had a long day.”

The quarterback places his hands on your shoulders, hoping to ease the tension in your posture. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“That’s rich,” you mumble.

“Hm?”

You grab his hands and pry them off of you. “I said that’s rich. You know, coming from you.”

He looks irritated but keeps his voice even, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you want me to open up and talk about my feelings when you’ve been an emotional brick wall the last couple weeks! I can barely get two words out of you. Joe, I’m trying babe. I respect your time and your space, I never stay the night on Saturdays or ask you do anything past 8pm and you still shut me out. Why is that?”

“You don’t think that doing all of this is a little much right now? Everyone wants something from me all the time. I just need a second to think, on my own. And I get it, you’re trying to help but you’re always here, pestering me about little things. I really don’t need you breathing down my neck and smothering me this week.”

You stare at him for a while, processing every word he just said.

You’re pestering him.

You’re smothering him.

Breathing down his neck.

That’s why he didn’t want you to hold him last night. He thinks you’re too needy, too clingy.

You’d done the one thing you’d been telling yourself you wouldn’t do. You had disturbed his peace, messed up his flow. In trying to be helpful and proactive, you had actually gotten more in the way. And he didn’t want you here right now. He’d just made that painfully clear.

“No you’re right,” you tell him, in your most normal tone, “I’ll stop with the questions. You probably have stuff to do so I’m gonna clean this stuff up.”

Joe nods simply, heading upstairs to crack open the Dallas film. A few stray tears escape your eyes as soon as he’s gone. You gave yourself 10 minutes to have a little cry and then the leftovers were placed in the fridge, dishes put away, candles blown out and everything back in its rightful place. Then you headed upstairs to Joe’s room to pack your stuff. He clearly needed space from you and you weren’t going to stay anywhere you weren’t wanted. Carefully placing all of your bags in the car, you took a shuddering breath before putting the keys in the ignition.

He woke up out of his sleep around 4am looking for you, feeling the cold space where your body was supposed to be. Chalking it up to you maybe having slept in one of the guest rooms after the tense conversation from earlier, he turned over and went back to sleep. You knew you had a problem, tossing and turning aimlessly, growing accustomed to being next to him, literally proving his point. The honeymoon phase was over and you desperately needed to pull it together.

“You don’t need to freak out, every couple goes through a rough patch,” Rachel tries to reassure you, digging into her bowl of popcorn as you lay face first, mumbling into your pillow. “Babe I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

It feels like there’s a ton of bricks weighing you down after one disagreement. “Rach you didn’t hear what he said. And the way he looked at me. He hasn’t even called or texted or anything. And I’m not texting him, that would be smothering or pestering or everything else he said. God I just, I don’t know.”

She hated to see you struggling like this. “Just give yourself some time and you’ll eventually know the right thing to do. You two are annoyingly into each other and those genuine feelings don’t go away because of a stress filled heated moment.”

She was right, all you needed to do was give him space. You dove face first into your job, attending every meeting five minutes early and staying later to get ahead on the next day’s to-do list. Joe did eventually text late in the afternoon, asking if you were coming over for dinner but you told him you had a work thing.

By day three of you having “work stuff,” Joe was calling bullshit. All of your responses were either dry, a simple “yes” or “no” or you kept it short and sweet. And he didn’t like it. Even though he prided himself in being able to compartmentalize, at home it felt empty and void of color and joy without you. He’d pushed you away and embarrassingly said some things that he didn’t even really mean, he just lashed out of exasperation and now he hadn’t heard the sound of your voice in almost 80 hours.

He needed to fix this.

“Can open the door? We need to talk.” He sounded out, in between semi frantic knocks on your door.

Slowly cracking it open, you let him in. “What do we need to talk about?”

His hair is messy and still slightly wet, like he ran here immediately after a shower. Seemed like this couldn’t possibly wait another second. “I’m sorry. I said things I shouldn’t have. I was upset because you’re right. The other night,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “you called me out and I didn’t want to admit you had a point so I dug myself a hole. And I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

You wanted to melt into his arms and forgive him. You wished it was that easy. But his words just kept playing over and over in your mind. “I appreciate the apology.”

“So…you’ll come home with me?”

“Joe I am home. And you have—a strict sleeping schedule. It’s getting late, I’m sure you’re tired.”

He wonders quietly how long you’ve been like this, giving robotic, monotone responses like you’re just saying things that you think he wants to hear. “It is getting late, but I’ve gotten so used to you being next to me that I don’t sleep as well when you’re gone.”

“Really? Cause I thought I was smothering you. Or what was the other one? Oh right, breathing down your neck.”

“Babe, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well you still said it! And now I’m wondering if I’m too much for you or how you had to drive over here instead of going home and getting your rest trying my best to be what you need,” you pause, looking at him through watery eyes, “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

He seems visibly shaken, hesitantly steps toward you, reaching out to hold your hand to make your not going to disappear into thin air and leave him on his own. “Wh—what you mean?”

“I just, I really think I’m the one that needs some space. To figure out where the hell I even fit into all this. If I still want to fit into all this. I’m not saying I want to breakup I just think—you’re in a really pivotal time in the season and I don’t want to get in the way.”

Joe gives your hand a squeeze, “you’re never in the way. Actually it’s the opposite, I just wasn’t appreciative enough of everything you’ve done for me this year. But if you want space then, take all the time you need.” He swallows the lump in his throat and presses his lips to your forehead, uttering out that he’ll be waiting until you’re ready.

You take a step away from him as his soft lips linger on your skin whispering, “Joe…can you please go?”

He nods, slowly closing the door behind him. You imagine him walking away, climbing into his Porsche and heading home alone. Maybe this is how it should be, him over there, you here.

Tonight almost hurts more than the last time, so much so that the tears won’t even come. You’re just…numb. But you need this space to see if this life is something you’re ready to commit to. Because the last thing you want to be is another thing on his schedule.

[emo-batboy]

Battinson on SNL

Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀

SO

To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”

But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.

Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨

But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.

They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.

So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.

He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?

Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.

It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:

OPENING MONOLOGUE

It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.

To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.

Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”

It’s working. The audience loves it.

Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.

Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.

There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.

Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!

(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)

SKIT #1

Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)

The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀

Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.

Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.

PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”

He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.

PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”

SKIT #2

For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.

It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.

He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.

Yes, he IS sparkly.

Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”

Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.

Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”

Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”

Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.

SKIT #3

The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.

Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another. 

Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.

Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.

At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”

This time, the mic bit is a bit different.

Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”

Board dings! That was the #1 answer

Brucie Wayne for the win

SKIT #4

Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”

The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…

But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.

Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”

A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…

We hear some generic hero music play…

And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume

(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)

Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”

Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.

Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”

He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”

CLOSING SEGMENT

Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.

Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)

News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”

News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”

News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”

It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!

News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”

And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.

The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.

Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.

THE END

LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D

[alastor-simp]

“I Won’t Ever Be Scared Of You” - Alastor x Female Reader

❥Summary: Alastor transforms into his demon form to defend the hotel. He promised himself he would never reveal that side of himself to you, but what happens when you do see it?

❥Tags: Sequel, Alastor x Fem Reader, Unafraid Reader, Alastor Demon Form, Hazbin Hotel Episode 5, Dad Beat Dad Episode, Mimzy, Lucifer Morningstar, Confessions, Friends to Lovers.

❥Notes: This is the sequel to a previous story I had written "I See No Fear In Your Eyes." I really wanted to do a bit of a continuation on how the story ended, so I conjured this up. This also takes placed during episode 5 (Dad Beat Dad) of Hazbin Hotel. Hope you all like it. Enjoy:)

Sequel to this fanfic I wrote - Link

"LETS GO EVERYONE!!! WE GOTTA MAKE THIS PLACE PERFECT FOR WHEN MY DAD GETS HERE!!" Charlies voice rang out in the lobby, as everyone scattered about, preparing for when the king of hell arrived. Husk and Niffty started to sweep up while Sir Pentious helped to bake cookies for everyone and Lucifer. You decided to help string up some welcoming decorations around the higher part of the wall, as well as place a "Welcome" sign for the king to see when he arrived. You had never met Charlies dad before, sparking your curiosity on what he was like.

Your thoughts were cut off by loud static surrounding you, making you turn to see Alastor next to you, eyes monitoring the door with a strong hatred, demonic symbols floating above him. What's up with him? Finishing what you were doing, you walked closer to Al and gave him a bit of a poke on his side. His eyes quickly flashed towards you in anger, until he realized it was only you, which calmed him down. Ever since the confession you had at his radio tower about why you didn't fear him, your relationship with him had grown. His mannerisms were still the same, but he had adopted a softer, sweeter demeanor when he was around you, even allowing you to touch him on certain accusations. You still hadn't figured what to call this relationship you now had with Al. Affectionate friends or very close partners? It wasn't romantic per say, but it still left you a bit confused. "Oh, Hello my dear! Something troubling you?" Alastor tilted his head at you, eyes growing soft at the sight of you. "I should be asking you that. Whats with the sudden power surge? Are you angry about something?" Alastor froze for a moment, hands grasping at his microphone a bit tightly before turning to gaze back at the door. "No." Alastor said it quickly, but you can tell he wasn't being truthful. "Do you dislike Lucifer?" You asked him with a tilt of your head, copying him. Alastor remained silent before he gave a loud sigh. "I'm not very fond of him, my dear. He is the ruler of hell, with tremendous power, and yet he hides himself away and refuses to accept his responsibilities."

His eyes had turned into radio dials, for a split second before calming down, yet his smile was widen enough to reveal his black gums. Giving a sigh, you motioned to grab one of Alastor's hands that was still holding his microphone tightly, giving it a soft squeeze, causing Al to look at you with confusion. "Look, this is important to Charlie, and she needs to ask her dad for help with heaven. I'm not telling you to all of a sudden change your view on him, but please try to behave a bit. Just for today, please?" Alastor's eyes continued to stare at you, before he closed them and opened them again with softness. He could never refuse those kind eyes of yours. "Alright, my dear. Its a deal!" He said, jokingly, making you laugh. "Thanks Al." You gave his hand, another squeeze before letting it go, going back to setting up.

Fast forwarding to now, you watched as both Alastor and Lucifer were having a "I'm the better dad" song battle for Charlie. Welp, you tried. You knew Al had tried his best, but after a couple insults between the two, the deal you had with him completely broke, honestly it was shocking to hear Alastor say "F✪✪k you" since he has almost never swore ever, since he arrived at the hotel. The song fight continued on, until it was interrupted by a short chubby demon, who came badgering inside the hotel. She quickly introduced herself as Mimzy, one of Alastor close friends, and also being a singer at a club she ran. She started chatting with everyone at the hotel, indulging herself in the liquor that was at the bar, it was surprising how much she could drink. You noticed that some of the liquor supply was getting low, so you thought it would be best to get some more, since everything had calmed down a bit. You had pulled Charlie to the side, letting her know that you were going out for a bit to get some more alcohol for the bar, which she nodded at, giving you a thumbs up before she run back over to chat with her dad. Grabbing your wallet, you ventured out the hotel, looking back to see the others listening to Mimzy chatting about before you went outside and shut the door.

*Few Hours Later*

"MIMZY!! WE KNOW YOUR IN THERE, YOU LOUSY BIT✪✪!". A voice rang out as a loud bang was heard from the other side of the hotel doors, causing the hotel to shake. A group of loan sharks had arrived at the hotel, heavily armed with weapons and attempting to break down the hotel doors with a battering ram. The residents of the hotel began to panic as large fireballs were crashing through the windows, nearly hitting them and causing large shards of glass to scatter everywhere. Vaggie had quickly grabbed her spear, ready to fight the loan sharks, until a hand was place on her weapon, causing her to lower it. "No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am h̨̭̹̠̍̚e̷͑ͥr͉͢͝ȩ̬̤̺̇ͮ̕."

The air inside the hotel began to change, as the static started to get louder. Alastors eyes had turned demonic and a green aura began to cover the whole hotel. Dark tendrils had materialized from Alastors back, allowing him to levitate into the air. "A reminder to all, ŇØŦ ŦØ Μ€ŞŞ ŴƗŦĦ ŦĦ€ ŘΔĐƗØ Đ€ΜØŇ!" Belting out an evil cackle, the tendrils had bursted out of the hotel, destroying the catapult, and crushing the loan sharks into bloody puddles. Growing into a monstrous height, Alastor emerged out of the hotel doors, horns growing in size as well as his eyes turning into radio dials and multiple tentacles protruding from his back; "Ɨ ŴƗŁŁ Đ€VØỮŘ €ΔĆĦ ΔŇĐ €V€Ř¥ ØŇ€ Ø₣ ¥ØỮ!

*Alastor POV*

"Oh how much I have missed this!" Alastor thought to himself, as he massacred the loan sharks that were scattered outside the hotel, running for their lives to escape his deadly clutches. It was futile, as no one comes into the radio demons territory and gets away with it. Scanning his eyes for more prey, he held one of the poor souls in his hand before dropping him in his jaws. "Hmm not quite as tasty as venison, but who could resist fresh sushi!" Alastor thought, as he cackled away, his tentacles continued to tear apart the loan sharks to pieces, organs and blood scattering the ground. The screams soon stopped and the only sound that could be heard was overwhelming static and monstrous growls, as glowing bright eyes scanned all over, making sure all of the annoying pests were disposed of. "Al?" a soft voice had come from below him, making him freeze in shock. Turning around in his gigantic form, his eyes casted down, spotting you, gazing up at him with wide eyes, mouth opened into a perfect O shape.

"Oh no! Oh no no no no no! She wasn't meant to see this! She wasn't meant to see this grotesque part of me!" His thoughts were scattering, feeling fear for the first time. Alastor remembered when he promised himself that he would never have you see his true demonic form, fearing that once you saw how he looked, the eyes that you gave him that held no fear, would be no more. A sinner as sweet as you, who confessed to him about everything that you admired about him to his face, shouldn't have to see this. Alastor didn't know what to do and quickly turned away from you, ashamed at himself, until he heard a "Wow!" from behind him

*Your POV*

"WOAHHH HE'S SO TALL!" Your mind was racing with many thoughts, as you walked closer to Al, putting the bag of alcohol bottles down on the ground. "Holy crap, you got very big. Can you hear me from up there Al?" You raised your voice up a bit louder, figuring Al couldn't hear you since he was almost the size of the hotel now. Alastor slowly turned back around, with his radio dial eyes still present, but they looked at you with slight concern. Alastor had bent down a bit, trying to get closer to you, but keeping a good distance as he worried it would startle you. "Đ؀ޅ.ĐØ€Ş ŦĦƗŞ ŞƗĐ€ Ø₣ Μ€ ŇØŦ ₣ŘƗǤĦŦҀР¥ØỮ, Μ¥ Đ€ΔŘ? His voice was booming, possible due to being in his demonic form, but it was softer then when he was munching on the loan sharks. Gazing up at Al with confusion, you asked him why would you be frightened. Alastor had closed his eyes, turning his head to face away from you; "Ɨ ΜΔĐ€ Δ ƤŘØΜƗŞ€ ŦØ Μ¥Ş€Ł₣ ŦĦΔŦ ¥ØỮ Ŵ€Ř€ ŦØ Ň€V€Ř Ş€€ ŦĦƗŞ ŞƗĐ€ Ø₣ Μ€"

Narrowing your eyes at him , you let out a huff, before walking closer to him. "Pick me up." Alastor turned back around in shock, not expecting you to say that. After some hesitation, Alastor placed one of his large hands down in front of you, allowing you to step on to it. Holding on to one of his large fingers, you allowed him to hoist you up, becoming eye level now. Once you were eye to eye with him, you crooked your finger at him, telling him to move closer. Alastor hesitated again before moving his head closer towards you, his forehead and eyes being extremely close to you. Reaching one of your hands up, you placed it on his forehead, before moving closer and pressing a soft kiss on it. Alastor eyes had widen at your actions, but he didn't move from his position, as you continued to pepper kisses on his forehead. Removing your lips, you nuzzled your forehead against his, "Alastor, I told you before that I would never grow to fear you. Whatever form you take, I will never be afraid of you." Stepping back, you gazed into his bright eyes, lips drew into a soft smile.

Crimson dial eyes remained locked on you, as they slowly closed. A chuckle was heard from Al, as he shook his head from side to side, before moving closer to you, placing his forehead back against yours softly. "Darling, what a wonder you are." His voice had returned to normal, no ounce of static etched in it. The two of you remained in that position, before Alastor had pulled away, bright eyes peering at you with admiration. "As much as I love this form of yours, it would be better if you shrunk back down, especially since you won't be able to fit through the doors." You said with a laugh, earning you a loud booming laugh from Alastor, as his whole being shook, having to hold on to his fingers to steady yourself. "I suppose your right." Alastor said, as he slowly brought his hand back to the ground, allowing you to jump off his hand.

Your eyes continued to gaze at him, as his body slowly began to shrink, eyes returning back to normal slits, and large tentacles disappearing from his back. He was soon back to his old self, rubbing parts of his suit to be rid of any dirt or grime. His joker-like smile was still trained on you, but it was full of tenderness, as he look down at you. "There he is, the handsome devilish radio demon is back!" Smiling brightly at him, you placed your hand against his cheek, giving it a soft rub. Alastor gave you a genuine smile, grabbing your hand from his cheek and placing a soft kiss on to it. Releasing your hand, his arms had wrapped around your back, pulling you into a soft hug, his head moving closer to your neck, giving it a nuzzle, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. The sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of clapping behind the both of you. Looking ahead, you saw Mimzy approaching, a bit of a smirk on her face. "Oh Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo! As always. Thanks for helpin' lil' old me out of a tough spot, you're always such a pal!" Her dialogue got cut off, as some debris from the hotel fell next to her, making her jump a bit in shock. Appearing unapologetic, she looked back at the two of you, "Oops. Heheheh… sorry about the mess, but I'm sure the lil' bug can take care of it for ya."

Alastor had loosened the hug, turning all the way around, but not before hooking his arm with yours, keeping you close to him. His smile was still stretched out as always, but his eyes held irritation. "I think you should go, Mimzy. Now." He said towards Mimzy, stunning her for a bit. "Oh pff, Alastor, you're such a kidder, you! Haha, you are so funny!" She flicked her hand at him, not taking him seriously, but you knew that expression he wore, he was not in a joking mood, his eyes lacking mischief. "I mean it. You deliberately brought danger to this place just to have me clean up your mess. I can't have that here." He had pulled you a bit closer, as he continued to talk with Mimzy, clearly telling her to f✪✪k off. She apparently did not take the hint, as she continue to ramble on, "But you love takin' care a' me! What? You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya? Come on. I know you. you heartless son of a bi✪✪h~" Her finger continued to poke at his chest, causing him to let out a small growl.

Grabbing her finger from his chest, you pushed it off him, glaring down at her. "I believe he told you to leave." Mimzy did not appreciate you touching her and scoffed at you. "And who the hell are you dollface?" Wow, she even forgot who you were, and she literally just met you a few hours ago, when she barged in. "I'm the one who knows and sees the real Alastor, and doesn't try to exploit him to get out of sticky situations." Alastor eyes had widen at your words, a bit shocked at this fiery side of yours. Mimzy had backed up a bit, not expecting that: "Well I-" "Did I stutter? Leave!" Your words had cut her off, as you continued to glare down at her. Huffing while stomping her feet, she walked past the both of you: "Well fine! Who needs ya!" She continued to stomp away, not before flipping the both of you off.

You continued to glare at her when she walked away, before you got distracted by the sound of static-filled laugther next to you. "My my~ Who knew you were such a firecracker, my dear." Al had unhooked his arm from yours, but he wrapped it around your back pulling you closer. You gazed up at Al, who was smirking down at you, making you flush a bit. "You weren't meant to see that, I'm sorry." Your head dropped down in shame, until a hand had hooked your chin, motioning your head to look back up at him. "I quite like it, ma chérie. Just as you love the many sides of me, I very much enjoy this feisty side of you." His finger had traced your bottom lip, his crimson eyes filled with a strong desire as well as adoration. Inching closer, his lips had placed itself against your redden cheek, causing your heart to skip a beat. Pulling back, his smile was gentle, before he stood back to his regular height, his hand moving from your back to one of your open palms, interlocking your fingers. "Come along, my dear. We better head back inside!" He pulled you along, having you walk next to him, as you made your way back towards the hotel. He had snapped his fingers, using his powers to have the bag of liquor levitate behind the both of you. His hand was so warm. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, which he reciprocated back as you both went back inside to join the others.

-END-

Sinners:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco

@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,

@daydream-the-demon , @cosmiccoralz @aconstructofamind

@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,

@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina

@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa ,

@fckedupandbeautiful ,

[drvscarlett]

Let him cook

Charles Leclerc x Masterchef contestant!reader

Series Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

A/N: Got this idea because the masterchef trophy is similar to the Australian GP trophy. This is going to be a series

Charles_Leclerc posted a new photo

liked by CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly, and 365,000 others.

Charles_Leclerc Add professional chef to the list

User1 aint no way you cooked this

User2 nice try Charles but we all saw that pasta video

CarlosSainz55 mate drop the # of the private chef you hired, these look delicious

Charles_Leclerc I told you that I made this myself CarlosSainz55 Lies!!!!

PierreGasly since when did you learn how to make coq au vin???

Charles_Leclerc not you too PierreGasly you should invite me sometimes so I can judge your cooking

Y/NCooks posted a photo

YNCooks last date night before i enter masterchef australia. credits to the boyfriend for the lovely photos

Friend1 Y/N i know this is your dream for a while now. I hope you win. We will cheer for you our next masterchef australia!

YNCooks awww stop! ur making me cry

User1 OMG she is finally competing, goodluck Y/N!

User2 Y/N always talk about how its her dream to enter masterchef, I'm gonna watch it everyday and hope she wins it!

User3 Goodluck Y/N! I hope you become the next masterchef australia!!!

Mystery Box challenge episode

There was a building reputation in the kitchen that you are one of the strong homecooks of the season. After winning the past 2 mystery challenges, you were extremely determined to do well and seek for a third streak. The mystery box today was all about italian cooking, a cuisine that you have been comfortable due to the close ties of your boyfriend being signed to an Italian team.

"And what do we have here with you today Miss Y/N" Matt Preston asked as he approached the work table together with George Colambris "You seem rather comfortable and in your own zone. Its like an ordinary Tuesday date night"

You gave a small chuckle with that mention "That's actually pretty on point of you to say as Tuesday is my date night with the boyfriend"

"Ah so maybe that's why you are so inspired because you are in love"George teased.

"Well I have to admit that there is a little pressure to do well in this challenge or my boyfriend's family will get mad at me"you quipped back a reply.

The judges suddenly leaned a little interested to learn more about your personal life, "So your boyfriend is italian?"

"He is not but he might as well be. He spends a lot of time there"

"It must be hard to not see him a lot since you are here competing" Matt says

"It's a price we are willing to pay. He has been supportive of my dream as I am with him" you gave an encouraging smile as you continue to chop the sweet potatoes.

"We hope to meet that boyfriend of yours because he is one lucky man because that dish looks delicious!" George says before they left the station.

Somewhere in Bahrain, Charles Leclerc is grinning upon watching the replay of the episode. He was beyond proud of what you have achieved as a contestant in MasterChef. He wished that he could do more to express his support towards you but you have an agreement with him to keep things lowkey for the meantime. It was a reasonable decision as he didn't want to overshadow your career but it was nice to know that you two are a private thing but never a secret.

He was so engrossed to repeating the boyfriend clip that he didn't notice that Carlos snuck up beside him.

"What are you watching there?" Carlos asked his teammate

"Oh its nothing" Charles says as he immediately exited the Youtube app "I didn't notice you there, you scared me"

"If you weren't too into your phone then you would have noticed me calling you" Carlos explained "What are you watching on your phone that got you smiling like that?"

"Nothing, I just saw an ad"

"Hmm sure an ad" Carlos was pretty sure that Charles was watching MasterChef but he couldn't care anymore to ask which country because there was too many so he decided to just let it go "Cmon Fred is asking for us, were late for a meeting"

"Carlos! Why didn't you start with that?"

Cake challenge

You were exhausted because you spent the early hours of the morning watching the Jeddah GP. It was a thrilling race to see Charles bag his first podium of the season so you can say that its worth it. Besides, you were able to talk to him after the race so it sweetens the deal even more.

Filming begun for MasterChef and the judges brought out balloons for the mystery box challenge.

"Your challenge today is to make the most imaginative and creative birthday cake that you ever had" Gary explained "The pantry is filled with all the cake flavors you can ever imagine so be creative and show us what you've got"

Baking has never been your strongest suit. It was all about precision and measurements as small increments can make a huge difference. Today, you were determined to do well and you wanted to use the podium finish of Charles for the cake.

It was a struggle to bake the cake, cool it, and pipe it in under 60 minutes. You felt the pressure getting under your nerves as your hands started shaking when you were piping the cake details with 10 minutes left. There was a sigh of relief when you finished just 5 seconds away from the judges calling the time.

There were plenty of beautiful cakes in the room so it was a shocker for you that the judges called you in front to present your cake.

"Judges what I have for you today is a three layer cake with the raspberry,almond, and pistachio with chocolate to seperate the layers and a lemon buttercream frosting."

"You told us you can't bake, that seems like a lie" George says as he cuts through the cake "Look at that layers"

"The layers are actually inspired by the italian flag, its an homage to the boyfriend. Its actually a cake that I made thinking about him" you explained.

"That is simply gorgeous. The cake is very moist and the balance with the flavors is that its not too sweet or nothing overpowering. Your boyfriend is a lucky lucky lucky man to be baked a cake like this" George complimented.

"Does your boyfriend cook?"Matt asked as he took a bite

"Oh God no. I have to cook or else the kitchen will be on fire"you laughed "But I can't drive so maybe that's his payback"

"You seem to show the beautiful dynamics of your relationship when you cook something inspired by him. I wish you two the best" Matt's genuine comment was a heartwarming moment.

Its unfortunate that you didn't win this challenge but you were able to showcase your support for your boyfriend.

Melbourne GP meets MasterChef

This was another challenge as you were elected as a team captain for the second team challenge. You were extremely nervous when you were transported with your team mates from the blue kitchen to an unknown location. It was even more nerve-wracking after you've realized where you are.

"Welcome to the Albert Park where the Australian Grand Prix is underway for this weekend" Matt introduced "Your challenge is to prepare two dishes: a pasta and a fish dish to be served to the talented drivers in Formula 2"

There was a little sigh of relief as you were dealing with the Formula 2 drivers. It was a lot of weight on the shoulder if you will be serving food to your boyfriend.

"The practice sessions will be starting in a few minutes. You have 90 minutes to prepare your dish and an hour to serve them"

All you know was that you started organizing the team to put them in charge of the dishes that you will be making today. You cross your fingers that the color red brings luck to your team today.

Meanwhile, the paddock was buzzing with cameras and Charles immediately noticed that there were some new film crews around the Formula 2 drivers. His eyes did a double take after he recognized the face of three familiar judges he often sees on MasterChef Australia.

"What's going on? Isn't that MasterChef Australia judges?" Charles quizzed

"That's MasterChef Australia, they have this team challenges and they will be feeding the Formula 2 drivers" Silvia answered as she was informed earlier that morning about the extra exposure in the paddock today.

"Why Formula 2? Why not us?" Charles whined

"If you want then you could go ask Ollie for food" Silvia suggested

That sets a lightbulb moment for Charles as he excused himself to talk to the young driver. He will not miss the opportunity to taste the cooking of his secret girlfriend and support her in doing her craft.

It puzzled Ollie Bearman to see that Charles has been looking for him once the practice session was over. He was even more confused by his request.

"So you want me to get you food?" Ollie asked "Doesn't Ferrari have a catering?"

"Its not just food, its the MasterChef Australia food" Charles explained without giving out too much information "I just love the show okay?"

"You can come along, I'm sure they don't mind" Even better.

So here is why you were genuinely surprised to see that Charles Leclerc is walking inside the MasterChef tent with a red and blue plate in his hand. He was grinning wildly as if he was a kid on a sugar rush.

"Ohmygod we are serving food to Charles Leclerc!" one of your teammates whispered.

"Hi goodafternoon! What's the dish for today?" he asked politely.

"Well we have a pan fried cod with a pea puree and then some green grapes some fennel over there and then for the pasta lemon ricotta and beet tortellini" you answered as the team captain "We hope that its up your liking"

Charles gave you that smile that seems to light up the whole room, "I look forward to it, thanks!"

Its moments like this that you wish that you could reach out for him but you understand that its not yet the time. Its nice to see the support that you have for each other even though its all in private and away from the eyes of the media.

"Goodluck on your race Charles!"

There was a smile on both of your faces as you both continued to go chase your dreams.

[little-mari-on-a-roof]

Along with finally airing the season 5 finale, Tfou released a version of the two last episodes commented by the writing team!! So, as I already did with the commented version of Evolution, here's an overview of what they said!! It’s quite long given that it was two episodes and they talked a lot so I will put the parts I think are the most interesting in bold!! Obligatory disclaimer, this is my own interpretation and translation so take everything with a grain of salt!

At the beginning, the writers recall that the first episode of the season 5 finale, Conformation, starts with Adrien and Kagami supposedly arriving in London "like rock stars". However, it is actually just an illusion made from the scanned version of them and the two teens are actually being sequestered in London. At this moment, Thomas says "talk about good parenting" in English, which I think is very funny. The team explains that they were first put in regular apartments in the previous episode but are now in rooms without windows after both of them escaped. This is also done to protect them from what will happen, as Gabriel is about to put his plan of akumatising the entire world into action.

The writers say that Gabriel had been imagining his plan ever since Animaestro when he was seen signing contracts with Tsurugi, and has been putting it in place since the second episode of season 5 (Multiplication). They say that he also tested the first part of his plan, to put nightmares in everyone's heads, in a previous episode.

The rest is under the cut!

Talking about previous episodes, they then say that as was the case with the Risk - Strike back - Evolution - Multiplication - Destruction series of episodes (aka the longest day ever), the 5 last episodes of season 5 (Collusion - Revolution - Representation - Conformation - Recreation) go together and there is a direct continuation between them. (However, one of their rules as Miraculous writers is that these episodes can also be watched and understood independently.) Therefore, season 5 both starts and ends with a series of 5 episodes (quintologies as they call them).

They note that Marinette's nightmare at the beginning is reminiscent of the episode Weredad from season 3. At this point, we can see that Marinette starts to understand who the villain is although she's not fully conscious of it yet. Thomas says that you can read it in two different ways: if you don't take the previous episode into account, she's starting to intuitively link things together but if you did see Representation, you know that she knows who Monarch really is. (They say that to highlight the fact that even though this is the 4th episode of a quintology, all episodes can be understood on their own as mentioned before.)

They then talk more about Gabriel's plan. He gives everyone nightmares on the same day and we can see the different characters suffering because of that (for example, Marinette's mom who thinks Tom is overprotective). He will then offer a solution which a sort of relaxation application directly inspired by the different yoga apps people have on their phones nowadays. This app helps them relax, but also makes people addicted since their nightmares come back as soon as they don't use it anymore. They joke about the relevance of this in today's world with people being "addicted" to their phones or people in positions of power spreading poisons and then monetising the antidote, or the corruption of capitalism selling things we don't need or causing mental illnesses to make people addicted. They ironise that nooo they couldn't possibly be referring to all of that, not in a children's show!!

During the scene that leads to Adrien wearing the Alliance ring after being reticent to it, they say that they had a conflit when writing it as they had to find a way for Adrien to not become his superhero self, cataclysm the walls and go help his lady in Paris. The end result is that Adrien is reminded of the devastating effect of his power by the nightmare and would therefore do anything to avoid hurting people, and so he wears the ring. Mélanie says that he "could become Chat Blanc" and the others add that even though he does not remember and has never lived it, Chat Blanc still has an influence on his actions.

Thomas mentions that Plagg (who he calls "Plaggo" and "Plagounet", which are sort of funny and affectionate nicknames) doesn't show up on cameras, and Sébastien jokes that there could be kwamis around them as they're talking but we just can't see them. Speaking of Plagg, Sébastien jokingly calls Fred the "queen of cheese" as she's the one writing the cheese puns and mentions that there are way more cheese jokes in season 5 than there were before, which makes him think that she is getting retributed by cheese industries in exchange for writing them. Fred then replies that she's getting paid directly in cheese.

The writers say that while the episodes are often narratively dense with science fiction elements, Plagg allows them to add humour in the scene and keep a lighter atmosphere for small children (you know, when he shows his butt to the camera while Adrien is having an existential crisis).

Anyway moving on lol, the writers then say that they had actually planned since 2014/2015 that Chat Noir would not be there to defeat Hawkmoth as they wanted a very particular power fusion to happen (aka Marinette wielding both the ladybug and black cat miraculous and becoming Bug Noire).

Fred then talks about how ever since the start of the series, they have incorporated the symbolism of fairy tales with the sleeping princess and the knight coming to save her. However, they're switching the genders in Miraculous as Adrien is the princess and Marinette the knight (while Gabriel is the evil dragon). They add that they already explained this in a previous episode (in season 4) but they're showing it again now in Marinette's nightmare.

In the scene where we can see that Tikki ate all the croissants, they joke that she did well given everything that is going to happen afterwards. They also jokingly tell the kids watching that they shouldn't do like Marinette and hide in trash cans but eating bananas and croissants is ok (trust me it's funny when they say it). They add that if Fred is the cheese queen, Mélanie is like Tikki because she loves cakes and anything sweet.

We then see Nathalie's nightmare in which Gabriel successfully makes his wish, and therefore manages to accomplish his evil plan which Nathalie knows about. We can see that she's looking very bad and the writers again jokingly give recommendations to the children watching, here to not use a damaged peacock miraculous.

They then talk more about Natalie's past, in which she was a treasure hunter. They say that someone should let them show the fabulous story of Nathalie, Gabriel, Émilie, Audrey and André when they were younger. Indeed, they already wrote what happened in their youth as it is the origin story without which they couldn't have written Miraculous. When Natalie looks at the picture of her in her "Lara Croft outfit", as they call it, from when they were chasing the miraculous and found the peacock and butterfly ones, they jokingly ask what they were chasing and why and say that you have to watch the rest of season 5 to know (basically, they're strongly hinting at sentiadrien).

They say that Gabriel/Hawkmoth and Tsurugi have been allies for a very long time, but it has only been revealed rather recently in the show and we can see it now in a scene where they're plotting together and rising the tension.

In the following scene, we can see all the kids ready for the "miraculisation", except Mylène who is not wearing a ring because while she is not fully anti technology, she is more wary of it and vigilant of its excesses. They then focus on Ivan, who would also like to resist like her but for whom it is too hard. They add that he has "things stressing him out" but that we will only learn about them in later seasons 👀👀.

They take a moment to appreciate the "exceptional" direction and lighting done by Wilfried in the scene where Nathalie threatens Gabriel with a crossbow. Thomas also makes a reference to Citizen Kane but I've never watched it so idk what he meant by that sorry I'm uncultured haha. The writing team says that while they are the ones writing the scenes, they need a director to make the scenes look like what they imagined, and that it's not always easy.

In the next scene, we can see Ladybug looking around in Nathalie's room to find hints about where Adrien could be and finding her tablet with all the information about the miraculous, which makes Marinette realise that Nathalie was Monarch's accomplice right before they enter in the room. They joke about how OMG THEY NEVER COULD'VE GUESSED that Adrien's father was actually Monarch the whole time. We can see Ladybug recording a message for Chat Noir where she reveals his identity, but she never ends up actually sending it.

They talk about how this scene is a huge climax as it is rare to see Ladybug in the Agreste mansion. It had already happened in season 1 during the episode Simon Says where they already played on the dramatic irony of Hawkmoth being Gabriel (which people did not know at the time). This is the second time that Ladybug is in the mansion, while Marinette has been there before a few times (including the iconic pancake moment). While they talk about Simon Says, Fred looks really smug saying that they had planned everything since the beginning.

They say that the scene during which Nathalie gives Ladybug her phone with the pictures and videos of Émilie explaining all of Miraculous's backstory is beautiful, and that if we as viewers had this phone, we would know everything about it (👀👀👀). In addition, they mention that since this is the final episode of the arc, a lot of things happen to get all the final outcomes of the different relationship between characters.

When Gabriel shows the video of Ladybug and Chat Noir kidnapping Adrien and Kagami on everyone's Alliances, the writers explain that people are so disoriented and stressed that they'll believe anything we tell them. They are therefore receptive to any controversy presented to them, just like how people nowadays will engage in numerous sterile debates on social media.

We can then see Monarch using things he obtained in previous episodes: the cataclysm dust from his deteriorating hand and the magical charm Ladybug gave him. We can see that Gabriel had been planning everything from a very long time but that because of the cataclysm he suffered from, he has no choice but to carry it out now. Coincidentally, it is this very cataclysm that allows his to have Chat Noir's quantic signature and put his plan into action. They jokingly compare what he is doing to making a dog sniff a sock, but in a cyberquantic version.

The quantic signature allows the miraculised people to find Ladybug and Chat Noir, and the team says that when they were writing the scene where they detect Ladybug in Gabriel's mansion, they were all going omg omg omg trying to figure out how they were going to get away with it. They say that while Ladybug is trapped in the villain's lair, the writers trapped themselves with the story.

They once again give a shout out to Wilfried's direction when we can see Ladybug getting attacked from all sides by the miraculised people, notably because of the camera motions. They also acknowledge SAMG's amazing animation especially in the scenes including a lot of characters.

My unculturedness shows again when they say that Marinette hiding in a cupboard under the sink is a reference to Jurassic Park. The reference I do get however is when they say that Plagg not being able to shift through the door with his ring was the plot of Mr Pigeon 72.

The action then reaches a maximum as Monarch knows that Ladybug is hiding somewhere in his house, detransformed. We now get to THE moment they had been waiting for since the beginning: when Monarch discovers that Marinette is Ladybug and she transforms into the fabulous BUG NOIRE!!! They keep talking about how cool she is and that they left the best for last: the final fight with Monarch does not happen with Ladybug, nor with Chat Noir, nor with Chat Noir and Ladybug but with BUG NOIRE!!!!!

Fred says the season has a particular taste of closure, even though there is still a next part, and warns to hold on because the latter will hurt a lot 🥲🥲.

🐞🐞🐞

Now, onto the the second episode, Re-creation !! (Yeah the first 2k words before that were on Conformation alone. I am bad at summarising. 😭)

At the beginning of the episode, when we can see Lila laughing when she sees Alec having an akuma induced nightmare on TV, the writers say that it is because she has known who Monarch is for multiple episodes now. They mention that it is because she read something on people’s lips in Evolution (episode 501) which allowed her to discover things. She also stole a case from Tsurugi so she knows who Gabriel really is.

Then, they focus on the fight we "had all been waiting for", and Mélanie mentions that her favourite lucky charm is the piano crashing on Monarch. They say that while they have spent multiple hours finding intelligent and sophisticated lucky charms for years, this one is just simple and exhilarating.

They then talk about how the resistance is fighting against the miraculised people, and how this happens all over the world (in China, Rio, New York) and includes a LOT of different characters. This explains why it takes a long time to deliver the episodes and they joke about how they’re blowing up their budget. However, despite all the superheroes fighting all over the world, it is still not enough.

Indeed, the outcome doesn’t play out in the giant arena outside, but in the KITCHEN. They joke about how they waited long enough to finally get it and that the resolve should therefore happen there, and even nickname the episode a « kitchen-two-room episode » (the joke makes more sense in french since we define homes according to their number of rooms, not just bedrooms).

They say that in the fight between Bug Noire and Monarch, both are so evolved in mastering their powers that neither of them have limits (Monarch can use as many powers as he wants at once thanks to his rings, and Bug Noire can use as many lucky charms and cataclysms as she wants). They lovingly say that our little Marinette from season one has grown a lot 🥺. She’s now super badass (they kept talking about how cool she was) and has learned so much.

They add that the scene where Bug Noire uses her handcuffs lucky charm is a reference to Kung Fu movies where characters fight while being chained to each other (once again, I’ve watched like zero movies so I’m gonna trust them on that lol). They once again mention the amazing direction and get very excited when Bug Noire slams Monarch through the wall.

During the fight scenes outside, they joke that Doorman (the USAmerican superhero whose power is to open doors) and Fang (a literal crocodile who knows Kung Fu) were essential in saving Paris. However, despite all the people fighting outside, the miraculised people remain too many and there is only one person who can save everyone from Monarch’s perfect plan.

Back in the Agreste mansion, Bug Noire is losing and her only escape is to cataclysm the floor which makes them land in the crypt (which was right under the mansion all along !!!). She then sees Emilie’s body and understand why Gabriel is doing all of this. When talking about his motive, the writers joke that if he succeeded, it would be hard to explain to Adrien why his mom, who has been dead for a year, is suddenly back and that while it would be unjust for Gabriel to trade her life for someone else’s, he doesn’t care and would just make Ladybug go away.

The team explains that in the following scenes, there is an alternance between the outside (in Paris) and inside (in the crypt) fights, with the dialogue happening inside continuing while we see what is happening outside on screen. They don’t do that often, which gives this scene all the more impact during the finale. They talk about how this kind of thing is a trademark of Miraculous: the episodes are quite dense despite their short length, thanks to the fact that the story continues when the action is taking place and the emotion continues to be conveyed. They oppose it to classical action movies where some scenes are dedicated to dialogue/story while fight scenes are just about fighting.

The writers say that from the moment Bug Noire gets her glue tube lucky charm, they are already working on the plot of season 6: when she manages to steal the butterfly miraculous from Monarch, she does not actually retrieve it because of how far away she is and it falls in the water below (cf Lila retrieving it which will be relevant in season 6).

At this moment, Gabriel loses and the resolution of the battle is not what we could’ve expected: we don’t have Ladybug winning by thrashing him, but she instead simply talks to him and even detransforms in front of him. It is not Ladybug who defeats Monarch but Marinette. This echoes to a message they have been trying to convey since the beginning : that in the end, it is not violence or strength that wins, but people talking to each other and opening up about their feelings. It is when people are not subject to their emotions, but instead try to understand them to think better and take the right decisions. And this is what Marinette is hoping for here by showing Gabriel the video of Émilie saying that she never wanted him to become evil, and instead just hoped for him to take care of Adrien (which he didn’t do lol).

In the end, Marinette and Gabriel’s main goals are the same : making Adrien happy. She takes a huge risk and detransforms to see how much he loves Adrien, or on the contrary how much he would rather bring his wife back. This is the only moment where we see Gabriel being truly emotional and understand why he has been doing all of that. Fred adds that he is a character who thinks love goes beyond good and evil, and oversteps every boundary, including moral ones. Therefore, Marinette is trying to solve a crisis of feelings by using feelings.

Back to the episode, we can see Marinette taking the biggest risk in her life and extending her hand to her nemesis, even the kwamis tell her that she’s insane. The writers joke that well, they were right, as Gabriel steals both miraculous and it does not end well (or at least not for now). Gabriel has now won as he can do what he has been wanting since the very beginning.

The team mentions that the next scene is one of the biggest reveals of the show, as we can finally see how the wish happens. We discover that the kwamis are not actually little plushies but take this appearance to avoid scaring their wielders, and the writers actually hinted to that in Dearest Family when Tikki ate all the galette des rois. One member of the team jokes that when the kwamis reveal themselves, they become a Swedish hit from the 70s : Gimmi (as a reference to Gimme ! Gimme ! Gimme ! by ABBA of course).

Moving on from the dad jokes, when Gabriel removes all of his miraculous rings, Marinette is released from the bee sting and can now witness her defeat. But the fact that Gabriel laid down his weapons shows that she has actually won, even though it is only shown and not said.

However, they say that there is still some doubt : we do not actually know what he wishes for as his words are cryptic and we only see the outcome of his wish. They do say that Émilie will not be brought back to life as Gabriel has finally mourned her death, which Adrien has already done for a long time. But Gabriel cannot live without her and decides to die with her.

In order to accomplish the wish, they explain that the world has to be destroyed and then re-created, which leads us to the aftermath of the wish a few weeks later and the pool party where everything seems to be going well. Then comes probably the most enigmatic shot of the episode with Nathalie and Amélie/Émilie. The writers say that they’re not telling us who it is but I think we can guess pretty easily based on what they said right before 😭😭. They also add that with Nathalie next to her we can guess what Gabriel’s wish was, but that it is "not what we think" and that there is a trick.

They say that with the final wish, they have arrived at the end of what they wanted to tell in this arc, which is a revolution of the minds. They said that each played their role, including the villain because he gave up on his power with which he could do anything to make his son happy. They add that the new world we are seeing shows the premise of season 6, which will have a "different taste" and in which they will talk about different things.

They say that at the end, some lies remain as Gabriel is presented as a hero. They say that Marinette gave Adrien the twin rings, in what frankly looks like a wedding proposal lol. Then they go insane because it’s time for LE BISOUUUU, and a real lovey kiss that they remember for once, not like in Oblivio, and not a desperate kiss like when Adrien left for London. However, even with all this cute romantic stuff, we can see some ominous butterflies flying around them…

In the next scene, we can see Marinette taking the miraculous that have been standardised and industrialised by Gabriel and putting them back in shape. The writers specify that this is a parabole about craftsmanship vs industrial production. The miraculous will now be adapted to every person, but we can’t see what they look like just yet! In this new world, the powers are all shared, among people who they trust and know will work for the common good. They joke that the "Avengers" shot at the end with all the heroes is something they’d been dreaming of.

In the last scene with Lila, they joke that it’s never really finished because there’s a bunch of epilogues one after the other. Thomas add that the school described at the end is how he thinks all schools should work!

And we’ve finally reached the end!! They don’t reveal anything in the scene where a weird flash appears in Lila’s room to keep the suspense, and just all scream going OMG WHAT’S HAPPENING!!!

🐞🐞🐞

I hope this was helpful to learn more about the writing team and some stories behind the episodes!! Don't hesitate to add stuff if you think I forgot something or ask questions if I wasn't completely clear :)).

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 33 “Rear Cushion” [Episode List]

Dave has to hold back the loudness of his huge farts as he gets an important phone call from work while blasting Tim’s face.

POV: Tim

The cab dropped me a few blocks from my place: finally, a couple of more minutes and I could relax at home. This was a long day. Nothing ground-breaking or anything, as I simply had to meet a client downtown. It went well, no need to go into boring details, but I’m glad I know how to pilot drones and film stuff with them. Believe it or not, working as an editor for Greg’s porn films, of all things, gave me lots of experience. I’m not planning to become a film-maker, but I do like how this stuff works. Plus, and perhaps most importantly, it pays the bills, which is good.

Bills that I’m currently sharing with my bro and roommate Dave anyway. I wonder if he’s home: today he called in sick from work because he had to do some stuff with Dana -something related to them planning to move in together. From what he told me, it’s been a tough month, and often he ended up working overtime, so he really needed this one day to get some stuff done with his girlfriend.

It was evening, around 7:00 PM, the cold breeze scratching my face, with my eyes being spared thanks to my round glasses. I could spot our house: the lights were on. I do hope he is home, or else he’s gonna pay *those* bills by himself this time. 

Indeed, I passed by Dave’s car parked on the driveway, still warm, meaning that my friend probably got home mere minutes before me. I quickly put a halt to my detective work and opened the door, stepping into our living room / kitchen, being greeted by the warmth of our apartment, other than a firm “Yo!” from my roommate.

Dave walked past me and towards the couch, holding a sandwich, greeting me by making noises with his mouth as he took a big bite of his snack. 

“You didn’t even make me say ‘Honey, I’m home.”

I watched Dave lying down on the long couch, reaching for the laptop on the small table in front of it, as he put it on his chest, comically close to his face. Impressive how fast that sandwich got eaten up -he is a big eater after all, despite the tall, slim appearance.

“Because that’s my line.” he replied, his fingers tapping the buttons on the keyboard.

I hung my coat by the door and went into the kitchen to fetch a beer.

“I thought you called in sick.” I asked, as I opened the fridge, disappointed by the lack of alcohol.

“I did.” he said, the stern tone catching me off guard. “Such bullshit!”

He wasn’t mad at me obviously, probably some work-related issue, as it usually happens lately. 

I solved my own very important issue with the fridge instead by settling for a soda, because my body may be a temple, but most temples are old and crumbling so I’m just very committed to the role.

As I walked towards the couch, Dave (eyes glued on the screen) automatically moved his legs just a bit to make room for me. Another sign that he came back a few minutes ago was that he was still wearing, well, casual clothes, precisely a yellow hoodie and a pair of bright blue jeans (and grey socks -he left his sneakers by the door). Since I’m a kinky asshole, I did notice that he was accidentally showing off his sort-of-sagging denim ass towards me, but I easily ignored that by focusing on the soda and the TV. 

Even though he wasn’t angry at me, I didn’t want to annoy him by asking more questions about the job, especially considering the furious tapping I was hearing, so I simply, and silently, took a sip of my not-beer.

“It’s because of Fisher by the way.” Dave said, his face hidden behind the laptop.

“Again?!” I replied. “You did tell me he was making a mess like… 2 days ago.”

“And guess who’s trying to fix the mess he made at 7:30 PM.”

Another episode of my bro working overtime, ladies and gentleman.

Dave also rarely works from home, so I don’t usually get to see how he acts in those situations. The rare times it happened I noticed he switches to a serious man of few words. He still is chill and all, just rightfully focused on whatever task he’s working on.

Whatever happened made him really angry however, as I heard the keyboard almost beg for mercy under all that furious tapping. That’s Dave: when he gets really mad, he actually goes silent. One of those men, yes.

I just remained there, chilling and watching the TV, enjoying my soda, though a beer would have been better in case this wasn’t clear. Occasionally, my friend would occasionally mumble some insults towards the screen or, better yet, to this Fisher guy, a man he complained about to us in the last few days, something that he almost never does. Dave is very easy-going as you know, and very very patient (exhibit A: me), but push the right buttons and he will get mad at you.

“Sorry about all the tapping.” he suddenly said, after like 10 minutes of silence, still focused on the screen. “I can go upstairs if that’s bothering you.” 

“It’s fine bro.” I replied. “I’ve already seen this movie anyway.”

“Yeah the news are wild these days.”

I found it funny how Dave tried to hold a casual conversation despite being so clearly distracted by whatever was happening at work (I don’t blame him). And speaking of which, I certainly didn’t want to distract him myself, so I didn’t reply.

“I mean it’s not like you’re not used to me making weird noises on this couch anyway.”

There he is, the teasing bastard.

I turned to him and I could see him narrowing his eyes and raising his eyebrows, the laptop screen hiding a cheesy smirk. So focused on his job, but will always take the chance to tease and make fun of me.

Which I will always be thankful for.

“…maybe I should go upstairs.” I said, in a deadpan tone.

Without halting all the typing and his focus on the screen, Dave’s casual, immediate answer made the couch shake: a huge fart, one of his usual, Dave-certified displays of flatulence, almost stock-sounding rips. A quick 4-seconds thunder, unusually (relatively) short for my friend’s standards, but loud and proud like it’s perfectly in-brand for him. 

The blast was followed by Dave snoffing from behind the laptop, very aware that his kinky roomate both loves and hates all this teasing.

“Weren’t you going upstairs?” he asked, trying not to laugh, as if nothing happened.

I mouthed a “fuck you” which he obviously couldn’t see. I stared at his denim now instead, the sagging making the ass look even bigger and more imposing in that position and from this angle. My dirty mind liked the view and how casual the pose was, farting like I wasn’t even there. And speaking of casual, you know it, Dave is as usual ridiculously chill with my kink and I’ll never thank him enough for this whole thing going on between us.

“Here’s what I think of Fisher.”

Dave then said, before ripping another huge rip, doing the classic leg-lift move in the process. He didn’t even look at me, still hiding behind the laptop, just farting as if I wasn’t sitting dangerously close to the source, like I said. Another “short” rip, as long as the previous one, and just as loud, if not more.

My friend’s farts are usually as loud as they are long, but I was definitely enjoying this barrage of quick blasts. Then again, when it comes to Dave’s farts, the term “short” is like describing a nuclear explosion as “kind of noisy”.

Naturally, the scent of those quickies reached my nose and engulfed the entire room. My bro’s farts are always big but not as stinky as one may expect. Don’t get me wrong, your nostrils will burn, but they’re not as hard on the nose as they sound… most of the times. 

One thing that was hard, however, was my cock, unsurprisingly reacting to my friend’s talent.

“Alright, done.” Dave said, stretching his right arm to clumsily put the laptop on the small table in front of the couch. “I hope Fisher gets hit by an asteroid tonight.” 

I silently toasted to his understandable wish and took another sip of my soda. My bro was now lying on the couch, legs up, without anything hiding his smirk, the smirk that proved how him showing off his denim sagging ass in my direction was not a coincidence this time. I tried to ignore that, but it was getting very difficult, especially considering that, knowing his skills, the blasts were far from being over.

I kept myself distracted by doing literally anything else than staring, such as putting the empty soda can on the floor by the couch.

“So, you’re done working?” I managed to ask.

He cackled in response to that. 

“Sort of. Got one last job to do.” he said, a cheesy grin drawn on his face.

“What do you m- oh… of course.”

I understood mid-sentence what he meant. The fact that he leaned towards me to reach for my head and pull it down and close to his denim ass being a big clue. I didn’t even try to resist, and I let his hand push my face in front of his butt, Dave’s legs spreading a bit more to once again make room for me -my entire head, in this case. The scent from his previous farts was strong and the ass was warm; the seams and textures of his jeans were always a pleasure to look at, the rough surface tickling the tip of my nose. 

As usual, when Dave gets gassy, my face ends up planted straight into the source of his farts, even though I didn’t ask for it. I don’t know if he did that on purpose, but I was positioned in a way that while most of my view was obscured by his overwhelming ass, I could still see part of my friend’s face, staring down at me, with a smirk. I love when it happens: experiencing one of Dave’s farts so up close and personal while still managing to see that damn smirk (or his other facial expressions) only makes the whole experience even hotter for me.

And hotter it became, not just figuratively, as Dave’s ass soon greeted with another huge blast. Was it stronger than the previous two or did my face being glued to his denim-clad anus made it feel like it was? Either way, it was huge and loud, a standard “Dave rip”, and getting those in my face is something I’ll never get used to. It definitely was longer than the previous farts, about 7 seconds, which only made the smell worse in the process. My bro wasn’t even holding my head anymore, but I didn’t want to move, nor he was surprised that I didn’t.

After he was finished he adjusted his position, so he could see my face better and make fun of me being a kinky mess as usual, while I was completely dazed by his talent.

“Remember when you apologized for the tapping?” I joked.

I made my friend laugh, which I guess is the only way I can somehow return the incredible kinky favor.

“Good times.” he joked back.

My head was still facing his ass, but admittedly it was getting awkward. Dave probably noticed that I was moving away and promptly used his left leg to trap me.

“I’m not gonna apologize for this, bro.” he said, clearly brewing another big one. “…Ready?”

And ready I was, bracing myself for the impact, but the noise I heard was not what I was expecting.

“Fuck!” I heard Dave say, reacting to that same noise.

I saw his right arm reaching for his smartphone, next to the laptop he put there moments ago.

“Fisher?! Really?!” he commented, as he saw the name of the person calling.

I remained there, now things getting awkward for real.

Again I tried to move away, and again my bro made sure I couldn’t.

“Hold on, I gotta take this one.” he said, with the silliest smirk you can imagine. “In the meantime, you can take this one instead.”

A huge rip suddenly blasted my face, just as Dave answered with a surprisingly calm and professional “Hello?”. The fart lasted like 3 seconds but it was probably the baddest one so far, in terms of sound and stench.

“Nooo Fisher, not bothering me at all.” 

I saw and heard Dave resisting the urge to tell this guy to fuck off, and he confirmed that he was lying but winking at me as he continued his ass-licking: after all, Fisher was actually one of his superiors. Not judging however, I’d do the same, and truth to be told, with my face being engulfed in Dave’s gas, you could say that I am doing the same right now, sort of.

As my friend seemed particularly into that phone call, I tried to move one more time, but Dave promptly used his left foot to step on my head and hold me there. Now my nostrils were being tortured not just by Dave’s gas, but also his smelly sock soiling my hair.

So, as long as I’m staying down there, with Dave’s foot firmly holding me still, I simply stared at that wall of denim in front of me; despite the anus being silent, the stench was still kind of unbearable. I know I just said that my bro’s rips do not stink as much as one may think, but when you fart this much and this often, of course one is gonna reach their breaking point, even a kinky guy like me.

“Mh… okay. I see. What did Johnson said?”

I laughed. Dave having this super serious work call while literally holding his farts in was actually hilarious. I managed to look at his face and he was like I wasn’t even there, a calm, assertive man just doing his job. He did look at me for a moment though, trying not to laugh, and winked at me again, fully aware of how ridiculous the whole thing was.

“Sure Fisher, by Tuesday we’ll be ready.”

As Dave said that, I noticed his facial expression changing. He was pushing one out… but since I wasn’t getting blown away, I guess he was pushing this one out in a way that he could somehow control how loud it was gonna be. After all, my bro is the fart master: he knows how to roar, but he also knows how to whisper, proving an incredible talent when it comes to literally controlling his farts’ loudness, length and pitch. 

And those weren’t even on command!

As Dave’s foot kept me in place, the fart that came out was as big as the others, but in a different way. My friend was probably worried (more amused than worried, actually) that Fisher could actually hear his infamous loud farts through the phone, which is not very professional admittedly… and for some reason he also wanted to torture me with his gas. So, the fart master decided to somehow “dilute” his fart into a sort of quieter, rumbly, bubbly long rip.

I could tell this rip was enormous, in spite of all those nerfs. It sounded like a muffled rip with many interruptions, like fire-crackers going off, without getting too loud however. Dave kept the conversation going, speaking about documents, files, coding and all that, his facial expression revealing how carefully he was pushing this one out, while still focusing on the call, without missing a beat. The whole scene was hot and amusing for both of us (well, just the second one for my bro).

This masterful rip was going to be long, even longer than Dave’s usual farts, which are already impressive. I didn’t know if I could edge any longer, as my boner twitched every time this peculiar long fart got surprisingly louder than expected.

10 seconds passed, the stench burning my nostrils and eyes, the fart still “cracking” through Dave’s warm denim and reaching my defenceless nose. I know my bro is good at this, but takes some incredible skills to control your farts like this, natural farts I mean. And such skills only made me harder.

“Yes Fisher, I ToTaLlY AgReE…” 

Dave raised his voice just a bit, anticipating his ass doing the same: a clumsy way to hide the sound of his giant fart from Fisher’s ears. As skilled as my friend is, trying to “dilute” such a huge rip this much and for this long was getting difficult even for a talented man like him. This “accident” only made him silently laugh however.

“Sure Fisher, whatever you say.”

Professionals have standards, you know the drill. And Dave being this professional from both ends was a sight to behold (and, well, sniff I guess). I forgot about my friend’s foot combing my hair and just lied there enjoying the noisy spectacle, the “fireworks” still going strong. Pre-cum erupted from my boner, I couldn’t take it anymore. This gassy bastard makes me cum without even touching me, it’s insane how hot he can get.

Worst (best?) of all, he’s completely aware of it.

After a whopping 56 seconds, the ass seemingly stopped emitting those fire-cracker noises. Despite the relative silence, my bro still made sure I didn’t move, which is something I didn’t even want to question at this point.

“Alright… no no it’s all good. See you tomorrow morning.”

A bit more paying lip service and finally… he hung up.

“Idiot.” he hissed, as he threw the phone on the small table.

I still remained there, my head under Dave’s foot and in the presence of his sagging ass, without questioning whether this was getting too weird or awkward.

“Are… are you finished?” I carefully asked.

“Yeah.” my friend said, with a smirk. 

I guess blasting me does put him in a good mood.

We’re both weird, no doubts about it.

“And that means I’m done holding back. Get ready.” he then added, threatening me with a good time.

If all of that was Dave “holding back”, then yeah, my bro’s skills are just as insane as they sound.

Without even giving me time to come up with a witty comeback, Dave finally raised his foot… only to have his hand take its place, pulling my face up and firmly planting it in his sagging denim ass. It felt warm and kind of sweaty, the jeans soaked into that stench caused by the almost 1-minute-long “fire-cracker” fart. 

How is it possible to be this gassy? A few seconds after my nose touched his ass, my friend started blasting my face again. Yet another loud fart, long and proud, probably what was left of the insane gas bubble from moments earlier, ‘cause that really sounded like his ass was tying up loose ends. As the fart kept going, Dave firmly, but gently, held my face into his ass, with the rip basically being shoved down my throat.

Finally, after 12 more seconds, this final thunder faded out, as Dave’s grip on my head loosened. My friend then (just as gently) pushed me away with his legs on my side of the couch; I was completely startled by all of that, one of the most insane fart sessions I ever had with my bro.

“Are you finished… now?” I asked again.

“ahah You’re lucky my shift is over.” he replied.

He then stood up and walked towards the kitchen, easily towering over me still sitting down on the couch. As if the gas-trail he was leaving behind wasn’t enough, he ripped another loud quickie as his ass passed near my face. I leaped back, not expecting, believe it or not, to fall for such an old trick.

“I thought you were done!”

In response, I heard my friend laugh from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, told you I’ve been working overtime lately!”

I took a deep breath, the air around me still heavily polluted by the power of my roommate’s ass, and carefully massaged the damp tent I pitched between my legs. I was gonna take care of that in the bathroom upstairs in a minute; I only wanted a bit more time to process those particularly strong rips… and if I should start paying Dave since face-farting is, apparently, his real job.

End of Episode 33

[whiskeyghoul]

Pt2. || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

[xblackmariahx]

quotes from me while watching hannibal to convince you to watch it

"are they fucking or fighting?" "who is this DIVA. no but seriously who the fuck is this diva." "aww yes sesbian lex" "is he sailing to europe? good luck babe" "i feel like i'm tripping" "this is so curly mouthwashing coded" "this has got to be a fetish of some sort" "D D DIVA" "hello my autistic baddie!" "put a shirt on slut" "the bitch is back and life is great again" "i am wheezing just call him a slur at this point" "*to the tune of hot to go* A-U-T-I-S-M, you have fucking autism" "pardon me while i bust" "he legitimately has more dogs than friends doesn't he" "oh hey that is literally my worst nightmare" "please step on me" "turning the brightness all the way up" "nevermind that's a dead body" "sir you are on drugs and i don't just mean aspirin" "ooh girl please don't have a traumatic breakdown in the middle of your lecture" "this show is a fucking comedy" "just give some kids weed not hands jesus fuck" "OH MY GOD?" "oh hey i got stabbed too. slash joke you guys." "i can excuse some recreational cannibalism" "HOLY SHIT! is that a motherfucking RADIOHEAD reference?" "oh hey look it's 1/2 of bananagrams" "ehehehe she's so hot. ehehehe he's so hot. ehehehe everyone is so hot." "she's a ten but the narrative will not give her a fucking break" @grilmo-bartlett: "special agent. special. me: "actually he's the agent of autism" grlm: "I'm special agent autism here to solve a murder" me: "that's me!" "NO MY HONEY SUGAR BOO ICON" "sweetie pie! sweetie pie sweetie pie sweetie pie angel" "why is this episode just called egg in french. i'm cackling." "THIS IS HOMOPHOBIA LET HER GO" "that's a lesbianism" "why are you speaking FRENCH in ITALY" "my poor baby. she killed a man." "hannibal, you gaslighting bitch (affectionate)" "'wlw hannibal' this 'butchfemme hannigram' that. motherfucker just watch killing eve." "OH WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT" "babygirl can't die but babygirl can get framed for murder" "that's horrible and a little kinky" "i do love when women have guns" "doing a bunch of murders because i'm thirsting over a blond man" "NOOOOOOOOOO MY THIRD FAVORITE DILF" "you were just as horny as the rest of us" "yes baddie! commit that murder!" "my babygronk is back! you should not have survived that!" "brunette bisexuals who fucked the same dude" "HELLO my beautiful lesbian babies! you will fall in love, all in due time!" "i am no better than a man" "hey so i'm actually sobbing" "i am violently crashing out. i hate this show (lying)" "they hate to see lesbians winning" "my fictional girlfriend just died, is this my sign to start flirting with real girls?" "baby's first time kissing a lesbian! it will not be his last!" "i think that's enough hannibal for today"

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Interloper [Part 1]

Beetlejuice x Reader

Summary: Strange, supernatural occurrences have been happening around the Reader’s new home. Little does she know, a certain dead guy has taken a liking to her.

a/n: I love Beetlejuice sm. Can’t wait to get to the smutty details on this one

-> Part 1.5 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

~~~

First it was some handprints on the mirror in your bathroom. Not really something out of ordinary. Choosing not to think much of it and going on with things. You had more important things to worry about than questioning who had put their grimy hands on your mirror.

But when things started going missing around the house, you grew concerned. Noting how one of your favorite pairs of panties had disappeared from the drawer. Catching the lingering smell of your expensive perfume and how the bottle somehow was disappearing at a rapid pace. Yet there was no sign of forced entry anywhere.

“It’s just kinda weirding me out,” you scanned around your bedroom as you were on the phone with your mom.

“Maybe it’s just one of your friends playing a prank on you,” she attempting to soothe you from the other end of the line.

“I don’t think any of my friends who think something like this is funny,” you sighed sitting down on your bed. Lying back and covering your face with your arms. Frustrated by the strange and unusual things happening around your home.

“Well it is a possibility,” she snipped at you.

“Or this place is haunted and the ghost wants me out,” you snickered.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been watching too much TV,” you could hear her eye roll through the phone.

And maybe you had. You did love that show with that ghost-hunter who would discuss ghosts in homes of families. True crime being another favorite of yours. And you did live alone so it was easy for things to get to your head. Still too afraid to go into the upstairs of your new place. But you could not deny that you believed in the paranormal. There was no doubt in your mind.

“Just try and relax, honey,” your mom said as you ended the phone call. Throwing your legs over the bed when you noticed a flyer flipped over on the floor. Curiosity taking over as you picked it up. The picture of a man with long scraggly hair in a robe on a heart-shaped bed plastered on the front. Hearts and depictions of Cupid accenting the text.

“Bio exorcist?… Looking for a— love connection???” You were completely confused. Noticing how it urged you to call, but there was no phone number written on it. Just an oddly spelled name.

“Betelgeuse…?”

There was a breeze blown through your room. Shocking your senses and causing you to rush up off your bed. Noticing how your bedroom window had blown open. Forcing it closed against the strangely strong wind. Remembering how it had not been windy all day.

Hands planting firmly on your hips as you turned around and scanned your entire room. “What the fuck is going on!” You proclaimed frustrated by everything happening around you. Deciding to go watch some TV in the living room in an attempt to cool down. Clicking on the newest episode of your favorite show.

“Today I want to talk to you about unwanted guests in your home,” the woman on the screen stared heavily into the camera. You laughed.

“Sometimes, ghosts and ghouls will take a liking to the living. And when that happens, they will often try and reach out to you. Wanting to become a welcome guest in your home. Normally, they’re satisfied when they catch your attention with some simpler tactics. Leaving footprints or handprints on your things—“ You sat up suddenly more interested in what she had to say. “Maybe rearranging your stuff or taking something they noticed you use often. But when that does not work, they will begin taking more direct measures. Leaving stuff from their world for you. Causing strange small surges of weather or sounds. Depending on the level of dead you’re dealing with, they may even start speaking to you.”

You furrowed your brows. Everything she had said completely applied to you. Almost as if it was written for you. You quickly clicked the TV off, sitting forward with your hands against your legs. Your mother’s words rang in your mind. You’ve been watching too much TV. This was supposed to calm you down but it sent your mind into a spiral.

Storming off to your room and locking the door behind you. Breathing heavily as you leaned against the back. Hand gripping your chest as your breath heaved. Closing your eyes and cupping your mouth. Sliding down into the floor.

The paper flew across the floor. Sliding directly beside you. Eyes locked on the old flyer. Feeling like there was another pair of eyes in the room with you. “I don’t understand what you want from me,” you sighed leaning your head against the door.

“I just wanna get to know you, babes,” a voice sounded like it was right against your ear. Scratchy and rough. You whipped your head around seeing if somehow, there was someone beside you. There was no one. A chuckle filled your room. You looked around, not seeing a remnant of a person.

“Did you break in?” Your voice cracked as you scanned for something to defend yourself with.

“Nah. I’ve been here longer than you have, sweetheart,” that same voice came from under your bed now. Crawling over and looking under it. There was nothing. That same chuckle from before. “Nice try looking, but you aren’t gonna find me,” he laughed at you. You stood up. Hands running down your face, falling forward onto your bed. Sighing loudly as you stared at yourself in the mirror across from your bed. Loosing all caring you had for the situation at hand.

“Seems like I’m losing ya here,” that voice grumbled above you, “And as much as I do love the view, I need a little more than that.”

The mirror began to fog up. You pushed yourself up getting closer to the glass. A finger began writing something on the mirror.

“Betelgeuse…” you read out loud as the words continued to appear.

“Betelgeuse… Betelgeuse.”

“OH-HO-HO! Now that’s what I’m talking about!” The mirror began cracking, a bright green light shining through. Shielding your face as the glass hit the floor and your entire room illuminated with the green flash. Opening your eyes again to see a man in a striped black and white suit standing in front of you. Skin pale, greenish-blonde hair falling down to his shoulders, teeth discolored. Your jaw hung open in shock.

“Oh my God,” you got out.

“I knew you’d come around, doll! Been waiting for you to say that sweet, sweet name of mine!”

~

[END//PART 1]

// Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed the start, I can’t wait to keep writing for this! If you are interested in being tagged let me know. //

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR: 16. YAP CENTRAL EP.136: did social media ruin relationships?

WARNiNGS » profanity, mentions of d wording, sexual jokes, crying, ynhoon teasing, yn never being safe

wc: 3.1k

episode desc - enjoy your stay today in yap central! as we’ve done the whole cycle, todays episode is a deeper one! we open up with a positive impact we’ve seen on each other. then we go right in with how our presence on social media has affected our relationships. following that up we keep the theme of the deeper episode and go over the influence social media has on us and how we view ourselves. we end the episode off by saying one thing we’ve noticed about one another as we’ve grown and how we think it affects the friendship. the episode ends off on a bittersweet note but we hope you enjoyed your stay today in yap central!

*the 6 of you are seated in your assigned seats. jungwon adjusts the soundboard and riki tests the mic out, then giving him a thumbs up. sunoo sets his mic up a little closer to pick up his audio and looks to the camera, setting his phone down*

sunoo: it’s been so long since we sat in here

giselle: i know like two weeks right?

yn: i think almost three *you say, adjusting your outfit as well as your seating position. riki scoots over so you have more room.*

jungwon: i mean it counts as like a summer break since we didn’t really take one.

kat: good point. you know guys do you guys remember those um fuck what were they called

riki: it would help if you gave a description

kat: shut up im thinking

*the rest of you stare at kat in silence until jungwon breaks the silence to laugh, the rest of you following suit*

jungwon: im sorry it’s just what could it be that has you thinking that long

giselle: she’s using everything in that little brain come on now!

*giselles comment makes the rest of you laugh even harder, kat laughing as well*

kat: i can’t even think of it nevermind

yn: it’s okay babe you’ll find it later.

riki: i have to say these costumes are amazing actually. might be my favorite theme

giselle: you know riki you’ve been hating a lot less recently.

jungwon: i was gonna say that too, he’s a bit nicer

riki: what can i say, finally holding my deal for the new year’s resolution

yn: watch now that we said this he’s gonna be doing some fucked up shit by the time the episode comes out

*a text box pops up on the screen saying “he in fact did do some fucked up shit during the editing process of the episode - jungwon” then disappears after a couple seconds.*

riki: you have no faith in me

yn: simply stating the facts

jungwon: you guys ready for me to sign in?

kat: go for it man *she nods at jungwon who smiles back. jungwon adjusts himself and looks to the camera*

jungwon: beep beep! you’ve arrived in yap central i am your host today, jungwon or aang. starting from my far left we have.

kat: toph

riki: zuko

yn: katara!

giselle: azula

sunoo: appa!! *he shows off his fuzzy appa bucket hat, earning a smile from all of you*

yn: sunoo i love you please don’t die

*sunoo looks at you in horror as the others burst out laughing*

jungwon: anyways.. *nervous laugh* the cycle is complete so today is a deep episode!

giselle: oh my god last time i literally bawled on my way home

kat: won you always pick the most brutal questions

sunoo: i cannot believe you asked us if the younger versions of ourselves would like the us now. like that is so ugh

riki: look at the way he’s smiling i think it’s something torturing again

*jungwon grins evilly at everyone making the rest of you groan in both discomfort and agony.*

jungwon: starting with my first question! what is a positive impact you have noticed on each of us. let’s start with sunoo. you guys don’t have to go one at a time just build it up.

sunoo: okay well.. lay it on me. *he looks to the rest of you, nervously, then shocked at who speaks up first*

riki: you laugh a lot more

*giselles eyes widened as riki spoke, the rest of you sharing the same reaction. everyone stayed quiet so riki could talk.*

riki: like when we were in highschool you always seemed to be bothered, or like you just never really were happy. and i think when we started doing this and you started tiktok you’ve been a lot happier

yn: i was honestly gonna say the same thing. you seem happier when we go out sunoo, like you want to be there.

sunoo: i feel a lot happier, honestly it sounds stupid but doing this with you guys does make me really happy.

kat: i agree. i mean i really wouldn’t trade it for anything.

giselle: awww look at us having our moment!

*both you and sunoo giggle at giselles comment, jungwon nodding to giselle, signaling she’s next*

kat: giselle, you don’t really care what people have to say about you anymore.

jungwon: ahhhh i was gonna say that

kat: like you seem so much more confident now than you did before.

giselle: when though? because i feel like i just started feeling like this overnight.

yn: if i were to pinpoint a time frame id say when you broke up with [BLEEP]

sunoo: no i COMPLETELY agree, like there’s a brightness to you now.

giselle: aw thank you guys *she pouted then smiled*

jungwon: guys please be nice to me.

riki: you’ve always been a natural born leader. i just think you’ve always been positive.

yn: i agree but there’s like a glow to him now

kat: oh my god are you pregnant?

*everyone looks at kat then bursts out laughing. some of you stop but jungwon and giselle can’t stop laughing.*

sunoo: oh my god it has something to do with who gave you that bracelet

jungwon: sunoo seriously *his cheeks turn pink, hand now covering the friendship bracelet*

giselle: oooo who made it for you?

jungwon: it was a mutual swap

yn: mutual swap.. or she gave you that wap?

*the others start laughing again, jungwon as well. riki daps you up*

riki: that was a bar

jungwon: i’m not admitting anything.. on camera.

everyone: OOOOOOOO

jungwon: next! go flame yn!!

yn: not fair, we weren’t even done with you

jungwon: don’t care, you’re not as closed off as you used to be

riki: oh my god yeah, when we were kids you were so shy

yn: really? i feel like im still in my little shell

kat: no i get what they mean. i mean even when i met you, you were really shy.

yn: thank you?

riki: i think jungwon means it in the way that you’re more open to meeting others now. like you enjoy being a people person

yn: ahhh, i see now. i guess the podcast really helped with that. like seeing people say how they enjoy my little bits and just things like that. it sounds conceited but it almost made me feel like people actually valued me? you know.

giselle: i get it, it doesn’t sound conceited babe

yn: okay i don’t like this much attention

giselle: this sounds weird to say but riki has gotten nicer atleast to us

kat: yeah i see

riki: die

sunoo: glad to know you haven’t changed..

jungwon: guess someone doesn’t wanna open up today

riki: oh would you look at that! it’s kats turn!!

yn: i think kats tells us a lot more now. like before you never really told us anything about yourself.

kat: i just have trust issues, it was nothing personal.

giselle: it’s true it took her so long to open up to me

riki: i honestly think the podcast brought out the best in us. surprisingly enough

jungwon: i see what you mean. maybe another way to put it is that we realized how much closer the camera brought us

giselle: or this friendship is just a ploy for jungwon to make more money off of us

*everyone laughs*

sunoo: we’re such coworkers

yn: heard it here first!! giselle hates her friends

giselle: can you stop with that *laughs*

yn: oh i’ll drag it through the mud

giselle: then i’ll drag yn[BLEEP] through the mud

*everyone laughs even harder now, you side eyeing giselle.*

sunoo: she kinda got you there

yn: let’s move on?

jungwon: speaking of relationships. *you glare jungwon down as he chuckles a little, looking at his phone once more.* how do you guys think social media affected your relationships and how do you think social media just influences how you view yourself. you can answer it in any order.

sunoo: i feel like having a presence on social media just makes having a relationship so much harder.

giselle: it kinda does, like people just expect for you to lay out your entire lives on social media.

jungwon: i think it depends on what kind of person you’re with, it’s almost like that person has to be up to your fans standards you know.

yn: i think there’s some people who can be normal about it but at the same time you have to be okay with everyone knowing everything about you.

kat: yeah but then it just shows that people online think that we don’t deserve privacy. it’s fucked up like they’re borderline stalking us you know?

*riki glanced at you as kat spoke, noticing how you stiffened at the word stalking*

riki: a lot of people aren’t okay online, it’s weird. like being so obsessed with someone to the point of finding out their personal information

giselle: if that ever happened to any of us i really don’t know what i would do.

jungwon: i think i honestly would try to sue you know. you have to be a certain level of fucked to do something like that.

yn: yeah, i agree it’s so weird.

kat: i kinda don’t wanna sound like a pick me

riki: just say it, you won’t sound like one.

kat: it’s so much harder being a girl with a social media presence.

sunoo: the fact that you had to hesitate to even say that says everything

jungwon: i really don’t get it either, like i’ve seen both women and men do the same things online and sometimes the guy is worse than the girl and yet it’s always the girl getting attacked and harassed.

giselle: i think it’s because people just view girls as easy targets almost. like a girl could do something completely normal and the internet would spin it to make her a villain

yn: it’s disgusting really, no one really ever really wants to side with a girl.

jungwon: do the comments still get you guys? i mean i know it was really bad in the beginning

kat: actually no i remember when it got bad. it got bad that episode where [BLEEP]

*jungwon and giselle glance at each other then start laughing*

giselle: remind me to edit that out.

yn: honestly no, the comments don’t bother as much anymore. after a while i realized that they’re just saying this because they have nothing else to talk about so i just stopped looking.

kat: i agree, it gets better when you just stop reading the comments all together.

riki: god please take periods away from women and give it all to me.

*you and kat give riki a look then burst out laughing, sunoo jungwon and giselle following that.*

sunoo: can’t stay serious for a second

riki: i would never joke about women in pain

*jungwon and kat keep laughing as riki goes on, unable to take him seriously*

yn: going back to the original question i just think it’s hard, like seeing people overstep a boundary or intrude on your life and just be okay with it

sunoo: and people just say oh well you asked for this um? no i didn’t actually i just wanted post skincare videos

*jungwon snorts, causing a chain reaction for everyone else to laugh*

kat: im glad we haven’t cried in this episode yet.

giselle: oh my god don’t jinx it he still has two more questions

jungwon: you might cry at this next one *kat sends a look to jungwon and he gives her an evil smile* my next question is what changes have we seen in one another as we’ve grown up together. it can be good or bad.

riki: jungwons lost it this is so similar to the first question

yn: i feel like he means overall

jungwon: thank you! atleast someon listens to me

yn: *you look around shocked and confused* oh my god.. did you guys hear that? was that a ghost?

*jungwon stares at you as everyone else laughs at your joke*

sunoo: so are we gonna go around in a circle?

jungwon: no how about.. the person sitting across from you. like riki sits across from giselle so they can say it about each other

kat: wait i wanna start

sunoo: this is too much pressure

kat: *she stares at sunoo and smiles warmly* sunoo i admire your love for us. like i don’t know you always support all of us no matter what and i feel like as we’ve grown closer you just have so much love to give

giselle: that’s so adorable

riki: sunoo i love your videos please don’t die

sunoo: STOP WITH THAT JOKE *he turns to look at kat* thank you kat i love you. i have to say sometimes i feel like you don’t tell us everything but it’s okay, just because we’re your friends doesn’t mean we have to know everything about you. i just want you to know that we’ll always listen no matter what.

*kat stares at sunoo as he smiles at her, then looks down when she feels tears welling up in her eyes. riki looks at giselle and jungwon panicked as they pass him the box of tissues.*

yn: aw babe *you frown looking at her as she lifts her head up to see tears streaming down her cheeks*

sunoo: wait i didn’t mean to make you cry

kat: it’s okay i jinxed myself

*everyone laughs slightly, still worried about her. sunoo moves his mic and gets up to hug kat. they stay like that for a few seconds until he lets go, patting her head. he says something but the mic can’t pick it up then walks back to his seat.*

kat: it’s not that i don’t want there was just a time where i felt like no one really care you know?

jungwon: you’re not obligated to tell us everything, but we care more than you think even if we have weird ways of showing it. *he glares at riki who only throws his hands up*

*the rest of you laugh at riki’s reaction and even kat lets out a chuckle after wiping her tears*

kat: to the viewers watching.. this never happened i am mysterious and batman doesn’t cry

giselle: nurse.. she’s out again

riki: okay giselle! lay it on me! *claps his hands together*

giselle: you use being mean as a cover up you actually care a lot about what people think but you use being rude or mean as a shield.

*sunoo gasps, the rest of you stare in silence because giselle is 100% right*

riki: okay cut the cameras

jungwon: i mean she’s not wrong

riki: if you wanted me to cry it’s not gonna happen

giselle: i know

riki: i hate you guys

sunoo: yeah sure you do

riki: well, since you want a taste of your own medicine *riki clears his throat* you shouldn’t get into another relationship, atleast until you evaluate how you act during them.

giselle: excuse me?

jungwon: weird ass time to admit your feelings

riki: you’re a weirdo that’s not how i meant it

yn: well then how did you mean it

kat: i’m curious

riki: every time i've seen you get into a relationship you just stop acting like yourself. you’re less confident and it’s almost as if you change yourself to please the guy you’re with. I just don’t like seeing any of my friends like that.

*all of you stare in silence at giselle, the air feeling heavy as she pushes her mic away and mumbles something to jungwon then ups and leaves.*

yn: um. is she okay?

jungwon: she needs a second

riki: was it something i said?

jungwon: it’ll be okay, she just said she needs a second.

sunoo: she’ll be okay guys, let’s move on yeah?

yn: okay well.. jungwon i think you bottle a lot of things up, intentional or not.

jungwon: *he sighs, crossing his arms* it’s not intentional i just think you guys have too many worries on your own plates to worry about mine.

kat: even if we have a lot going on that’ll never stop us from wanting to know what’s going on won

jungwon: i know i guess it’s just hard? to admit i need help?

sunoo: there’s never anything wrong with that

jungwon: thanks guys

riki: yeah yeah

jungwon: okay yn, im glad you like yourself more

kat: um

riki: wow!

sunoo: that is certainly a statement

yn: excuse me??

jungwon: no i worded that terribly

*the 5 of you burst out laughing at jungwons poor word choice. within this time giselle walks back in, closing the door slightly. the mics can’t pick it up but riki mouths “im sorry” to her. causing her to shake her head and smile. “it’s good” she mouths back making him smile back.*

jungwon: what i mean to say is that you’re more confident now. not just about yourself but your videos too. i’m glad to see this change in you

yn: thank you won, it means a lot

jungwon: of course

giselle: well this was certainly an episode

yn: one of us always ends up crying

sunoo: that sadist probably likes it too

jungwon: woah? the term isn’t sadist

*the rest of you laugh*

sunoo: let’s have a group hug! everyone up on your feet

*sunoo stands up, kat and giselle following suit. you and jungwon stand up and riki groans, then reluctantly stands up. the 6 of you huddle around one another and go for a group hug. the mics can’t pick up your voices but the recording has slight shuffling and giggles from you 6. after a couple seconds you pull apart and sit back down in your respective seats.*

giselle: i love you guys

kat: me too

sunoo: me three

jungwon: me four

yn: me five

*everyone looks at riki who only rolls his eyes*

riki: me six..

jungwon: well guys hope you enjoyed your stay in yap central we hope you didn’t cry too much. i have been your host jungwon and please make sure to check out our links in this description and like, share, subscribe, and comment! till next time!!

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AUTHORS NOTE » lol UMMMMMMM sorry guys i didnt realize how long it had been without an update WE ARE SO BACK THO

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