#in future posts so let's leave em

[goldsbitch]

Light Roast Mosaic

Five stages of a relationship, little moments captured at a small café in Monte Carlo, one melting into another. Is it one story? That is for the universe to know and for us to wonder.

warnings: fluff, angst featuring: Franco, Lando, Oscar, Charles, Max

//

Franco's first sip

"Another espresso?" the not-so-polite waitress glanced over both of them, her thick French accent pushing through.

Franco needed to look confident. Third coffee was totally fine and probably on brand with him, so what that his fingers were shaking?

"Yes, exactly," he smiled at her, doubting whether he kept the eye contact for too long or not enough. He was trying not to let his composure down.

His palms were already sweating, they had been for the past hour. Part of him wanted to get up and run away, the other would do anything to make sure you were glued to the chair you were sitting on forever.

The waitress left, leaving her opinions to herself and you were back at the semi-awkward conversation break again. He looked back at you, you averted and blushed, missing the part where he blushed too. The French waitress had just interrupted you telling a story about your sibling, one that still made you laugh years later. Your heart was beating fast - because you managed to make him laugh too.

"I'm sorry, so what happened next?" Franco asked leaning forward towards you.

You fiddled with your fingers. "Um, nothing, that is it, I believe," you replied, regretting that the wind was taken out of your punch line. You were nervous, hell, nervous times seven. And yet, the conversation flew back and forth, as if you wanted to use up all of your words on him and choke on his.

"Sounds like a fun childhood," he remarked naturally. You could feel his gaze burning through you. For some reason, you dared not to look back. Was this a date? You had just met few days ago at random and he kind of asked for your contact. Few DM's and one post-poned meeting and now you were here. Across him. No idea why his presence felt so exhilarating. This was a coffee in the afternoon. Just talking. Why did it produce the same chemical reaction as a rollercoaster ride?

"It was, but definitely not as cool as Argentina must have been," you replied and nonchalantly grabbed a sugar packet of the table and broke it apart on your small plate. You just had to do something with your hands, it was getting riddicculous and he would notice unless you did something. "Tell me about Argentina."

"I will, one day," he responded and your stomach exploded with butterflies at the thought of him suggesting another date, "but, first you tell me what you're doing," he asked, hinting at your sugar creation. In the meantime, another coffee cup landed in front of Franco.

"Um, nothing. It's something I always do. A habit, I guess." Lies, lies, lies. You'd never done this. But it was either this, or staring into his incredible eyes and you were not ready for that yet. Freaking him out was not the plan.

"Looks like you're drawing something," he observed and took a sip of his third coffee. Not that he was such a big of a fan of the bevarage. He just wanted to keep sitting there with you. You smiled, mindlessly. Perhaps yes, it did appear like a drawing. A flash of the memory of your grandma, pretending to be a tea leaves fortune teller, when you went young, came to your mind. You looked at him with a challenging look.

"Do you want me to read your future?" you asked, gaining some confidence from unknown sources. It was as if your body wanted to tease him. To lure him in and then never let him go. But you were also scared of the attraction you felt, so you know, casual confusion going on there.

"Can you read the future from, em, sugar?" he raised his brows with an amused, skeptical look. Then he took a big gulp on his coffee and failing at keeping it cool, he choked like a little kid. You couldn't help but laugh at the sudden loss of his "suave" look.

"You ok there?" you said, trying to push in your laughter.

Took him few coughs and deep breaths to compose himself before he spoke. "Ay, don't worry. Three coffees might be just enough...But, guess what?" he spoke, quickly back at his irresistible self.

"What, Franco?" Oh, you were so doomed.

"I just saw the future," he challenged you and licked his lips. Not that you noticed, no. Definitely not.

"And what did you see?" you replied, keeping a firm eye contact.

"Next Tuesday."

"Hm, so not that strong coffee, I guess," you diverted.

"Strong enough," he countered, not letting his gaze of your face.

You took a breath and surrended. "So, what did you see?"

"You and me on another date."

//

Two sugars

A quick coffee run before going back to the safety and comfort of your apartment. You and Oscar had a good run of days lately. Maybe too good. Your core almost ached when you walked, but that was a fair price for the bliss he made you feel. How many times in one day is too much? It looked like you were about find out. But first, coffee and some carbs.

You two picked a quiet corner away from the window, trying to enjoy the privacy Monaco offered sometimes. Sitting next to each other rather than across and having a whole table dividing you provided you both with a clear view on the café. Oscar was about to give a cheeky kiss and pushing you further into his embrace when you lightly pushed back and nodded to door. Oscar let a loud sigh out when he finally spotted Colapinto and Bearman walking in to get a take out after their run.

"God, I hope they don't notice us. I am not in the mood for F1 bullshit today," he murmured and sunk deeper into the chair.

"Uuh, beware, the young ones are coming," you teased and watched them. It was a relief to see them walk away immediately, locked in their own conversation and not noticing the self-absorbed couple in the back corner.

Oscar looked at you, puzzled. "Young ones? They are our age."

"I'm not talking about me, but you! Age works differently in F1," you said lightly and put your hand back on his upper arm.

He brushed your cheek with his hand. "Sweetheart, two years ago, you had no idea racing existed. Look at you now, almost ready for your own podcast!"

"Uuh, what would I talk about? Interesting..." you pretended to be lost in the thought of it and he did not buy it at all.

With a smirk, he made a simple comment. "Knowing you, you will always find something."

"I could talk extensively about prep before a race," you replied and stole a quick kiss from him.

"Is that so," he said and pulled you even closer to him and locked your lips again.

"Yeah. You know," you whispered between kisses "..stroke first, the touch the balls before you take him in your mo-"

He pulled away and put his finger on your mouth, trying to hide his amusement and quickly stepping in to avoiding finishing so easily. A habit, one might say. "Ok, ok, stop, there are people here," he pointed out, observing the cafe again. He was not that keen on PDA, but you managed to break through that wall, especially if you managed to keep him comfortable for longer period of time.

"Fuck people," you hoped one day he's become less worried about other people.

"You wanna fuck people? " he frowned, mildly disgusted once he eyed the cafe again. "Not an impressive crowd, interesting choice on your part," he teased you with his dead pan expression.

You rolled your eyes, typical Oscar. "Well, maybe not people, a person."

"If you say Lando again, I swear to God.." he added without missing a beat.

Oscar smirked and you mirrored his action. Even after a year and a half of teasing each other 24/7 it still felt fresh, like a ripe strawberry, still warm from the sun. You had each and every of his freckle mapped, he could tell just by the way you did your hair in the morning what kind of mood you'd have throughout the day.

"Come to the next race with me. Please," he pleaded, changing the tone of the conversation to more of a serious one, as he fiddled with a random strain of your hair. Then he licked his lips, as he would always do when something bothered him.

During the time you'd dated you visited only two races. People kept constantly nagging him about it, but he tried to put as little pressure on you as possible. Remembered more than vividly how a crowd of fans surrounded over you the first time around, nearly causing you a panic attack. You were never a crowds person. There wasn't much of a choice during a Grand Prix. You loved supporting him, sent him videos of your reaction to the race whenever something happened, for him to watch on the plane ride home. His favorite one was the one where you went on a five minute rant after his dive bomb in Baku. Like a parent who is trying to explain to a child that jumping of a cliff might not be the best idea. He found it adorable. Just wished he could have you there in person.

"I'll think about it."

//

Cold Brew

"Lando, you're lost in your thoughts again."

At the beginning it was easy. No drama, hard conversations avoided. Just pure fun and light weight life. She was willing to drop everything for him, come out to races and twirl around him, without needing any extra care. She was easy. But she was not you.

Lando smiled apologetically and tried to push the train of intrusive thoughts back in and focus on what his current girlfriend was saying. But it was so hard, when a Taylor Swift song was playing and a raspberry macaroon was just brought to the table next to them. Punch to his guts came free with that. It's been months now since you last spoke together. First two months were fairly easy, he found distractions and one of them even made it to this cafe as well and was now sitting across from him. With seasons turning, it was like you started to creep back in from every corner of each room. Impossible to escape your ghosts.

Lando felt like a prey, trying to escape attacks from everywhere. But there was no one attacking him, apart from his own brain. It's not that you were suddenly all over any place he was at, it's that his brain searched for you.

Was that your car outside? Did he just smelled your perfume? He could have sworn he just heard your heels.

He fiddled with a spoon in his almond milk latte. You hated when he would order that and joked about never kissing him again. It should make him happy that the girl sitting across from him has ordered the same drink as he had. She was a good match on paper.

Just not you.

"Lando, can you please listen to me?"

//

Second batch

"Y/N?"

You turned around, nearly dropping your phone and purse. It was a middle of a busy day for you, emails popping off like crazy and your mind was anywhere but present. The plan was to get a quick coffee and get into the office and join the emergency online meeting your boss initiated.

His voice was something you could recognize under any circumstances. But maybe, just maybe you were mistaken. You turned around slowly, just to make sure that you were correct. As your eyes met, it became clear you made no mistake. For few seconds, you just stared at each other.

"Hey, Charles."

Time stopped. There he was, once again in his full casual glam. He was really good at that, always had been. You never felt like you could keep up, back when you used to date. But it was a long time ago, you both grew up and years added on seemed to suit him well. Just like you observed him, he did you. It was clear you were in a rush, but also rushing somewhere where you were important and needed.

"How are y-"

"Your coffee, madame," the rude waitress interrupted Charles, a signature move you were more than familiar with as a local customer. Unlike Charles. He would usually avoid this place.

"Thank you," you turned your attention briefly towards her and took your coffee, balanced your things and took few steps away from the counter, not to disturb the lady more. Charles ignored anyone, but you. When you regained your composure, he tried asking again.

"How are you?"

His piercing blue eyes were dawning on you, a painting of conflicting feelings locked in them, begging to be set free.

"Um, yeah. Very busy currently," you spoke in a muted tone, still not fully comprehending that you just randomly bumped into him on a day like that.

Soft smile crept on his face. "You look busy." His eyes were trying to catch yours, without much success. Then they flashed to the top of your head and you knew that your hair was probably all over the place.

"Oh, fuck, is it that bad?" you asked, hoping for an honest answer. At least this one time.

He nodded. "It's just the-em..bun?"

"Can you please hold this?" you sighed and started handing him your things.

Without questions, he took your bag, coffee, another bag, notepad and held all of that while watching you trying to fix your hair. It was shorted than it used to be when you dated, he observed. Curlier. He wondered what kind of person you grew into.

"Ok?" you checked geniuenly for his approval, first time you fully locked eyes with him. Stood there, waiting for what he had to say.

Wondered was an understatement. His curiosity was burning him from inside. You used to never leave a stone untouched when you dated together. A quality he searched for ever since with no luck.

"Yeah, perfect," he managed to get out of him and began handing you your things back.

"Listen, I really gotta rush, so..."

It was obvious you were not lying, so he figured trying to keep you there would just make you mad. "Yeah, of course."

"Uh, see you, I guess," you said, barely waited for his response and hopped off to where ever you were originally headed to.

So many things he never found the guts to say. Never apologized. He was ready now. The forgotten notepad he held in his hand served as a glimmer of hope he might get a chance to fix what he once fucked up.

//

The usual, thank you

"Lady, I am sorry, I am showing you on a map, what else do you want from me?" Max said with his signature dead pan annoyed tone and wiggled his phone in front of a poor lady, who barely spoke English. Originally, he thought she was a fan asking for a photo, instead he got stuck in trying to explain the concept of left and then long straight walk to whichever place the tourist was looking for.

You watched him struggle impatiently as you waited by the door with two coffees in hand, amused as usual. Whenever he was frantic like this, you just could not help yourself.

The two finally parted ways, Max waved her goodbye and then rubbed his face. Annoyed and tired, he was like that the past few weeks.

"Tough day the office?" you joked and handed him his coffee.

"I wish. Give a photo-hungry fan over this anytime, please."

You grabbed his hand, an subconscious gesture at that point. "Come on, we still have some time before we need to leave for the plane. Let's enjoy this walk."

He kissed you, not bothering to turn his head around and search for people with their phones ready to photograph. Max stopped doing that a long ago. His "not giving a fuck" attitude was a turn on for you in any shape or form.

The two of you walked for a few moment before you had your first sip of the coffee. A small frown escaped your face upon the first sip. "Never liked the coffee here, it's so bitter."

He had a different opinion, as per usual. "Yeah, but I like the place. They keep their bullshit levels on low. The staff is pleasant."

Max was always about getting to the point straight. Made it a very interesting quality when you fought. But you would not have it any other way.

"Is that why you wanted us to take the longer route and come here today?"

He calculated his response. "Hm, not really. Apparently they might be closing soon. Slow business."

"Ah, shame. Great location," you replied, not exactly affected by that new information.

"See, knew you'd like it," he said with a suspicious joy in his tone.

"Why are you so interested in me liking that place?"

"Well. I was thinking of buying it if they really go under," his response came with a tone suggesting he had already made that decision.

This time, you couldn't hide your shock. "Max Verstappen, what the fuck?"

He just chuckled. "Oh you'll love it. We'll have our cute little place."

"Is it because of Leclerc's ice cream? Are you jealous?" you asked, still baffled. This man will probably never stop surprising you.

He stopped and looked at you. "Good thinking, we can get his ice cream here. That'll dram crowds. I'm happy you're on board," he said and gave you a small kiss on the cheek.

"Never said that," you tried to protest, but knew it was a lost battle.

"But you'll be. For me, please? I'll make sure you always get free coffee?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm, but you knew better than that.

So be it. You searched for a hint of doubt in his deep blue eyes, but only found determination and devotion. "Free bitter coffee, what a win!" you cheered sarcastically, but an honest smile formed on your lips.

"And a kiss with it," he bargained with a devious smile.

Was there ever any other choice than the magnificent man standing in front of you? The answer was clear to you. Where ever he went, you followed and vice versa.

"And a kiss with it."

[pedgito]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 | Tommy Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | tommy's on a path for revenge and you're his unfortunate baggage.

author's note | this is a small blurb for a future series for tommy. for context: joel revenge tour, forced proximity, reader is baggage to tommy, and also mean!tommy. him and maria have already separated before he leaves to go after abby & the group. so if it’s easier to consider this au, please do. this is unbeta'd and based off this post.

content warning | 18+ smut, eluding to past hookups, undefined age gap, tommy is a broken shell of himself, manhandling, a moment of softness from tommy but mostly selfishness, unprotected p in v, mentions of not pulling out. the tommy brainrot is in full effect y'all.

word count —1.4k

He doesn’t touch you like this unless he wants something.

A hand up your back, under your shirt as you bend down to throw more kindling into the fire, taking the broken twigs from his hand.

You feel it, tense slightly as you toss the sticks into the pool of flames and rise, turning your head over your shoulder. 

He’s got that distant smile that doesn’t ever reach his eyes, not anymore. The thing with Tommy is that when he smiled, or used to anyways, it was a full body reaction.

His eyes light up, the lines around his mouth creasing as he grinned and the subtle twitch or flex of his hands as he tried to contain himself. As dark as you’ve seen him lately, you knew that Tommy was still buried underneath. Deep, deep down.

“It was once,” you remind him, eyes flicking down at his now empty hands pressing against your hip, slowly caressing its way over your stomach and slipping underneath the fabric there, sandwiched in by both of his hands as he nudged you to turn and face him, “—we agreed, Tommy.”

“You can keep tellin’ yourself that,” Tommy argues, “s’far as I remember you did a whole lotta talkin’ and you still haven’t told me stop,” his hands settling against your waist, squeezing the flesh under his fingertips, “you want me to stop?” 

Your eyes follow the path of his fingertips as they clutch the end of your shirts and push up, dragging it up until your skin is bared to him, knuckles dragging over the surface. It was heat, pure heat. Different from the sweltering flames at your sides. It was hunger.

So strong, unbridled. If he wasn’t thinking about this, he was thinking about them. Or him. He has nightmares every night, ones you’ve learned to let him ride out. The one attempt to pull him out ended with you on your ass and a knife to your throat, skin nicked from the sharp blade pressing into your chin.

You shake your head so slightly you aren’t expecting him to catch it, but he does. “That’s right,” he nods, his hand raising to brush against the underside of your chin, thumb dragging over your cheek, “look at me.”

Hesitantly, you do. Heart hammering in your chest you dare, staring back at his unrestrained gaze. There wasn’t admiration or fondness, nothing like that. But, there was understanding.

You help me, I help you.

Mutually assured destruction.

The force of your kiss as you rush into him sends him stumbling, feet hitting the edge of a table before he’s collapsing in an old chair, creaking under the weight of you both.

His head presses against the back of the chair, kissing you back soundly, sloppily as he tongue dives—digs into your mouth and licks away the built up frustration you’ve carried for the past week.

It tastes like resentment and anger, things you couldn’t say to him—things he wouldn’t say himself. It was a dangerous dance that has begun to play out for you both.

He reaches blindly for your jeans, popping the metal button and attempting to squeeze his hand between the snug material and your underwear, struggling with the angle and how desperately your pressing yourself into him as you pull at his hair, dark locks tangled around your fingers and he grunts, heaving out a heavy sigh.

“Get ‘em off,” he orders casually, rubbing his hands against the denim as he pushes you away, mirror your movements as he strips himself of a few more layers; coat, flannel, shoving his pants just far enough down his knees that by the time yours are off he’s ready for your hurried approach.

You climb back over his lap, a salacious grin on his face as you mount him, “alright, atta girl,” followed by a soft catch of his breath as you wrap your palm around his shaft, tugging leisurely as his cock hardens from your touch, brow pinched as he watches, “—careful, honey.”

He joins your hand, using the force of his thumb on his opposite hand as it wraps around yours to press the head of his cock between your cunt, slipping between your folds and notching himself against your clit.

Before you can even think to speak, his hand is wrapping around the back of your neck, pulling it taut in his grip as he forces you still, gaze locked on his own as he pushes inside of you.

He’s already worked up, functioning on pure adrenaline and rage the past few days, knowing that he would soon hit a wall, but not before he allowed himself this. A gentle whine squeezing from your throat as he bucks his hips into you slowly, watching the desperate clench of your jaw as you swallow, eyes falling closed.

If it weren’t for the fireplace, he’d be acting off feel alone—like the last time. A back alley in the decrepit city of Seattle and the low hum of infected in the nearby area. Hand over your mouth, fingers circling of your clit as he fucked you against the moss-covered brick wall. 

There was no preamble. Only a look, a deep growl of anger as he snapped and you allowed him to take his emotions out on you—given you were a big reason why his trip wasn’t going off without a hitch like he’d expected.

You were ruining it, dragging him down, but he couldn't just let you go—you were too far from Jackson, too far from home. 

“Not gonna be the last time,” you inquire, a breathlessness to your voice as you worked your hips back against him, fingers digging into the material of his shirt and feeling the flex of his abdomen underneath, the sharp snap of his hips as pistons himself into you, “is it?”

Tommy leans forward suddenly, hand pressing against your back for support as you yelp softly, fingers pulling in his hair in a reactionary manner but it makes him curse. Your body goes fuzzy at the aggression in his tone, clenching around him out of instinct. 

“You tell me,” Tommy counters, “you sneak outta Jackson, you follow me here, you fuck up my plans—and you just think—“

“Think what?”

“I ain’t that dense, honey,” He snarks, “you’ve been eyein’ me for weeks. He said you were good, mindful—but you are just nothin’ but goddamn trouble.”

He didn't need to say his name, you knew.

You smirk at his assumption of you, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as you fight for the upper hand, pressing him back into the chair against his hardened grip, almost avoiding the nudge of his mouth as he leans in for a hungry kiss, his palms squeezing at your ass cheeks so tight that it pulls you forward too, your foreheads colliding quick and sharp, a collective groan of pain erupting from you both.

It’s in the quiet lull of a look, as Tommy rubs at the sore spot on his forehead that you find yourself laughing—soft and wistful as you rock back, his cock still buried inside of you.

In an instant his hands are at your hips, gripping tight as his lips pull in a thin line, whatever semblance of a smile he did have was quickly gone and focused on you—or more so, the point where your cunt was sucking him in and squeezing, so tight he feels like he might come just like that

“Ease up,” he chokes out, the sweat on his brow glistening with the glow of the fireplace, “keep squeezin’ my cock like that and I’ll come right now.”

You grin, a soft snicker slipping past your lips.

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” Tommy offers in a softer tone, “but I ain’t finished with you yet—so ease up.” It ignites the coil of pleasure deep inside of you, the snarl of his teeth contrasting with his gentle tone.

You knew there was no piecing Tommy back together after everything that's happened—whatever was left of Tommy’s peace had departed the moment his brother had too. 

-

dividers creds: @/saradika-graphics

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sweet Treat

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You bake one of your favourite fall treats for your coworkers but one of them takes it to mean more than it does.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: this is the fourth of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The leaves feel more vibrant as you walk along the autumnal street. Clusters sit at the base of street poles and the brisk wind nips at your cheek and nose. You tuck your chin into your woolly scarf and hug the container of treats closer. 

You stifle a yawn. Your exhaustion is well worth the output. You spent most of the night baking. It’s a hobby for you and now that you have your first steady job, you have the funds and the space to do it. And as the newbie in the office, it felt right to add a bit of warmth to the office culture. 

To be honest, you’re trying to fit in. Since you started your desk job, you’ve felt that pressure. It’s all new to you and you feel like every day is a learning experience. Everyone else seems so settled and sure. It’s not like a retail gig where you’re all just trying to get through another day. 

As you get to the front door of the building, your met with a familiar face. Rhodey flicks two fingers in a half-wave and drawls out ‘morning’ as he opens the door for you. You thank him and enter the lobby. 

He trails you along the polished tile and you both stop before the metallic doors of the elevator. He taps the button as you tap one heel impatiently. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. 

“What’s all that?” He asks. 

“Oh, it’s a surprise.” 

“A surprise?” He wonders. 

He’s always nice. He interviewed you and helped you on your first day. He’s too busy for you to run into each other very much, but he’s always pleasant. 

“Yes, you have to wait until you get upstairs to find out.” 

“Oh, maybe I should see if I can beat the elevator,” he kids and looks at the door to the stairs. You chuckle. The doors ahead of you slide apart. “Ah, nevermind, seems like fate is on my side.” 

He gestures you in ahead of him. The ascent is smooth enough. You’re never a fan of the rising sensation that makes you woozy. You step off thankfully, clutching the container firmly to your stomach. 

“Well, I should find my desk,” you say. 

“Hey wait, what about the surprise?” He asks. 

“Oh, yeah, fine,” you face him and slide your arm under the container. You peel the corner of the lid back with your other hand and smile, “apple pastries. Hope you like ‘em.” 

“Homemade?” He asks as he reaches for one. 

“Sure are,” you chime. “I have napkins in my bag but my hands are kinda full.” 

“Nah, I don’t mind a mess,” he sniffs the dessert, “think this will go well with my coffee.” 

“Let me know if you like it,” you smile. 

“Oh, you will know. I might just try to sneak a second,” he says and turns to head off towards the executive offices. 

You shut the container and wade through the desks to your own. You put the container down and strip off the layers of your scarf, gloves, hat, and coat. You finally get yourself set as Marissa shows up. 

“Do you smell cinnamon?” She asks as she wiggles her nose and plunks her insulated cup down. 

“Yes, I do,” you take the lid off and gesture to the container. “Want one?” 

“Hm, apple?” She asks and you nod. “What’s this all about?” 

“I don’t know. I made them so I thought I’d share.” 

“Huh, that’s sweet,” she remarks dryly as you offer her a napkin. “Enjoy that optimism while it lasts.” 

Your cheek twitches. You notice that about the people here. Even if something good happens, they’re suspicious about it. They want to know why or the expect something horrible to follow. 

As more people shuffle in, you offer them a pastry. Everyone seems to like them so far. Yet, you still have lots to go around. 

You get up and Marissa glances over, “any more?” 

“Well, yeah, I was going to go offer them to the managers.” 

“Oh,” she darts her eyes way. “Good luck.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing, just... interrupting for a pastry... kinda... non-productive.” 

“Oh, right,” you pout, “maybe I could just leave them in the breakroom.” 

“Probably a better idea.” 

You’re disappointed. You know the execs rarely go that far. Still, she’s right and she would know better than you. 

You take the container and pass between the other desk. As you pass the hallway to the exec spaces, you nearly collide with someone else. He barely seems to notice until you squeak and save the desserts from spilling. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you eke out as the man struts by only to scuff to a halt.  

He turns back to you, a pinch between his brows and a tick in his cheek. You clamp your mouth shut as his dark eyes penetrate you. It’s him, Mr. Stark, the big boss. You’ve never seen him this close-up. You panic and look around as a hush falls across the office. 

“Would you like one?” You ask out of sheer helplessness. You offer up the container and his eyes slowly descend. His expression doesn’t change. 

To your surprise, he steps closer. He reaches into the container and takes one of the pastries. He examines it then turns away without a word. You stare after him in fear of your livelihood. 

You wait until he’s gone and scurry into the breakroom. You put the container on the counter and catch your breath. Oh gosh. You just blew it, didn’t you? Over something as stupid as desserts. You shouldn’t be handing out treats like Santa Claus, you should be working! 

You put your head down and march out. You go directly back to your desk and sit. You feel eyes on you. Marissa wheels closer. “Told you. Don’t bother the big guys.” 

🍏

The windows are dark as you finally log off. It’s no coincidence that you’re the only one left in the office. It might be futile but you hope the extra work might save you from the fallout of your unfortunate run-in earlier. 

You cross the office floor and dip into the breakroom. You claim the empty container from the counter. You’re happy that your hard work didn’t go to waste, at least. 

You return to your desk and snap the lid on. You gather up your coat and pull on your hat and scarf, leaving your gloves in your pocket. You pack up your bag and sling it on your arm, clutching the container against your hip.  

You push your chair in and turn. You nearly shriek, instead swallowing it to a squeal, as you find someone else standing across the space. You put your hand to your chest and gasp. 

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t hear you,” you gulp. It’s Mr. Stark. Great, you don’t think you’ve done enough to stop the inevitable. 

He comes closer, sliding his hands into his pockets as he approaches. He’s silent as he measures you with a long gaze. The silver at his temples twinkles against the darker strands. He stops at the corner of your desk. 

“You all out?” He nods to the container. 

You flinch, “um, yes, sir.” 

“Too bad. Tasty,” he says. “And that little heart in the pastry... nice touch.” 

“Oh,” you’re surprised by his praise, expecting a full remonstrance. “Thank you. I... I just thought it was cute but, er, sorry, I don’t mean to chatter. I should go.” 

“Yeah, me too,” he says, “another late night.” He clucks and glances around the empty office. “You know, that really... made my day. Not much to look forward around here.” 

Your brows rise and you smile, unsure how to respond. 

“Feel like I owe ya more than a thanks,” his forehead lines as he tilts his head, “and I gotta grab something to eat,” he checks his watch and sighs, “all my meetings went long so could I pay you back?” 

“Uh, sir,” you wonder. 

“You like shawarma?” He intonses. 

“Shawarma?” You repeat, surprised. 

“I know, I know, a guy like me is supposed to live off caviar and fine steaks. You ever just get the craving for something....” he pauses and pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Nasty?” 

You chuckle, “um, sure. I sometimes order fast food.” 

“So? Unless...” he hesitates, “you’re busy? Looks like you’re running behind too.” 

“No, sir, that’s very generous. Um, I... yeah, I could... I could go for shawarma,” you agree, relief flowing over you. You don’t think he’s going to fire you unless it’s a trick. 

“Great, let me just grab my jacket.” 

🍏

Dinner is delicious, though a bit awkward. Your guilt isn’t lessened as Mr. Stark insists on paying for it. You tell him you can handle it but you don’t argue that much. He’s still your boss. 

You pull on your jacket as you leave the restaurant. He holds the door for you. You’re already mentally preparing to tuck into bed. 

“That was nice. If I don’t have some business lunch or dinner, I usually eat alone,” he scoffs as he comes up beside you. 

“Oh? Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” 

“Just as much as that special treat you made me,” he says. 

“Uh, yeah, well, I like baking--” 

“You know, no one ever offers me stuff like that. They all just get quiet when they see me. Can’t even look at me,” he grumbles. “But you smiled at me.” 

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s... they’re just intimidated, I’m sure. Because you’re so smart,” you say. 

“What about you? You’re not?” He asks as you stop next to his sleek red car. 

“No, I am,” you admit. “I’m the newest person in the office, everyone intimidates me.” 

He looks at you long and hard, “really?” 

“Well, yeah, I’m still learning how to do everything.” 

“Who?” He asks. 

“Who?” 

“Who’s being mean?” He growls. 

“What? No, sir. It’s not—no one’s mean. I didn’t say that.” 

“Because if someone’s messing with you, I’ll happily have a special meeting with them,” his expression darkens. 

“No one,” you avow. “Sorry, I must’ve said it the wrong way.” 

“You did nothing wrong,” he counters. 

“Right, er...” you peer over your shoulder, “I should go catch a bus--” 

“A bus?” He echoes. 

“Sure, it’s almost nine o’clock,” you look at your fitbit. 

“My car’s right here, get in,” he says. 

It’s a command and you’ve pressed your luck far enough. You nod and thank him as he opens the door. You sit in the low seat and hug your bag atop the empty container. He shuts you in and strolls around to the other side. 

As he sits in front of the steering wheel, his cologne clogs your nose. It’s definitely expensive. You squirm in the seat. You’re tired and a bit impatient to be home. You still have to go to the office early tomorrow. 

“Well, thanks for the ride,” you stifle a yawn and rub your eyes instead. 

“Lease I can do,” he says. “Where do ya live, sweetheart?” 

Sweetheart? The epithet tweaks your ear but you try not react. You worked in retail, a lot of men love that word. You give him your address. 

“Really? All the way over there?” He asks. “Girl like you shouldn’t be done there,” he tuts. 

“It’s not that bad,” you assure him. 

You drag your hand up your cheek, trying to wake yourself up. You’re exhausted. You’re so used to the 9-5 that you’re ready to flop into bed. 

You zone out at the engine hums. The soft motion of the turns lulls you and it isn’t until you’re halfway in the other direction to your apartment that your instinct kicks in. You sit up and look around. 

“Where are you going?” You ask in a panic. 

“I live closer, sweetheart. You can crash at mine,” he says. 

“Your-- no, Mr. Stark, I can’t do that. If you don’t want to drive me, I can get an uber.” You pull on the zipper of your purse and he hits the brakes. You lurch forward as he reaches over and clasps onto your hand. 

“You don’t need to do that,” he says. 

“Mr. Stark?” You babble. “What’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Why won’t you take me home?” 

He’s quiet. His eyes fall to his hand and he lets you go. He grips the wheel again but doesn’t go. He sighs and tilts his head back. 

“You gave me that pastry. With the little heart.” 

“I gave them to everyone--” 

“No, but you gave one to me.” He insists. 

“Sir,” you sniff. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. Please don’t fire me.” 

“Fire you--” He turns to look at you, “no, no, no.” 

He fixes his gaze straight ahead and presses on the gas again. He rolls forward and turns down another street. You unzip your purse and once more, he stomps on the brake. You lurch forward and the seat belt digs into your chest as your bag falls onto your feet. 

“Don’t touch that phone,” he snarls. 

“Sir,” you sit back, rubbing where the belt bit into you, “sorry.” 

“It’s just... I can’t see where I’m going with the glare,” he exhales shakily. 

“Okay,” you whimper. 

He drives on. You don’t move. Your heart is racing. You don’t understand what’s going on. 

He enters the nicer neighbourhoods. Where the houses have that modern boxy feel, tall glass windows for walls, and iron gates around trimmed hedges. Their residents spends as much time there as their vacation homes on the next continent. 

He hits a button and steers toward one of the gates as it slides open on a motor. He rolls through as you sink into yourself. This must be his house. You’re still spinning with the suddenness of it all. From the office to dinner to this. One moment stoic and silent, the next smiling and kind, and now... 

As you look at him, his eyes are so dark that the swallow the glow from the dash and the security lights mounted on the house. He shifts into park and kills the engine. You twiddle your fingers and watch him. He reaches over and presses the button on your seat belt. 

You wince and look away as he trails his touch up your arm and to your shoulder. He walks his fingers up over your collar and along you neck. He traces the curve of your jaw as you shiver. 

“You gave me something sweet, baby,” he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. “I just wanna return the favour.”  

He leans across the space between your seats and pushes his lips to yours. You murmur and grab onto his wrist. You feel the tendons tense as he squeezes you tighter. His mouth parts from yours and he presses his forehead to yours. You’re locked in his hold, paralysed.  

He hums and licks his lips, “You taste just as good.” 

[its-time-to-write]

I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night  

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet. 

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee. 

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”  

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says. 

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants. 

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard. 

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone. 

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out. 

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table. 

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad. 

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says. 

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod. 

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say. 

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says. 

“Brill,” says Jamie. 

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket. 

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale. 

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again. 

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out. 

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red. 

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question. 

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him. 

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’” 

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house. 

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs. 

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly. 

You find him sitting under the tree. 

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt. 

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks. 

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his. 

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion. 

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him. 

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding. 

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here. 

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.  

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side. 

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him. 

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great. 

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe. 

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains. 

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family. 

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks. 

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca. 

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly. 

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles. 

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.  

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy. 

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling. 

They might know this from personal experience. 

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing. 

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you. 

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings. 

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once. 

[happeehippie]

instagram j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his fiancée evie as they go through his football career.

* face claim is yasmin quintana*

series masterlist.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 873,190 others

evie: did some cowgirl shit

view all 2,739 comments…

millyg: yee frickin haw

> evie: bitches 🤠

user: NO WAY IS IT HAPPENING????

user: i was hoping this thing would get called off

joeyb_9: guess i better saddle up.

> evie: i’m coming home to you cowboy. 😉

user: no wait this is so cute

user: not ev in her cowgirl era

> evie: i fear it may be permanent

user: i cannot comprehend that you guys are so in love your getting married….

> user: wym you can’t comprehend it?? they’ve been together for like 7 years and are clearly very happy?

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, bose, and 912,054 others

joeyb_9: locked in #TeamBose

view all 5,108 comments…

user: this hairstyle is the best

user: ev is so lucky

> evie: like it truly doesn’t get better than this.

user: this is giving major top gun vibes

evie: i’m locked in on you. 🤪💗

> joeyb_9: 🌽

user: yalllll this man!

used: if you need consoling after this tough season hit my line

> evie: aw. i might take you up on that offer

> user: if there’s one things ev is going to do it’s make sure errrrrbody know joe is HER man

> user: no like its giving *insecure*

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 910,002 others

evie: my mood for the foreseeable future..

view all 3,107 comments…

user: angel girl

user: she’s a stunnnnna

lahjay10_: if joe ain’t bring some of those cookies tomorrow we may have a problem

> evie: only the best for you jay

user: a ray of sunshine

joeyb_9: photo by me, socks from my closet, cookies homemade, your smile out of this world.

> evie: the man that you are…

user: i don’t know if im rooting for you or not

user: this doesn’t seem like lifestyles of the rich and famous

> evie: you’re looking in the wrong place for that content

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, evie, and 816,901 others

joeyb_9: my hands don’t look small here

view all 6,738 comments…

user: delete this my girl has ig

bengals: caption 🤌

user: you remember what them haters had to say

evie: let’s put them to good use. 😉

> user: EV! it’s too early to be spicy in the comments!

> user: nooo she’s getting some of that BDJ 🤣

user: i wasn’t prepared for this today

user: GOODNESS GRACIOUS

evie

liked by joeyb_9, bengals, and 520,091 others

evie: why is it always so cold in seattle?

view all 6,194 comments…

user: you’re giving pick me vibes

> evie: next time you’re looking for something to comment on, please, don’t pick me. (:

user: seattle is nice when it isn’t raining

user: period !!!

millyg: a moment for YOU 💗

> evie: i luv u.

user: these pics make seattle look bad

joeyb_9: the fit goes HARD

> evie: you can borrow it anytime 🤪

> joeyb_9: game day fit?

> evie: would def be top 5 of the season.

user: why are joe and ev always so goofy in the comments, and yall think they aren’t made for each other????

> user: no bc SAME! i don’t get why people think they aren’t a good fit. they’re obsessed with each other.

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 730,726 others

joeyb_9: Dark Knight

view all 5,720 comments…

user: that’s my QB

joemainmixon: 🐐

user: you ain’t him

user: WAKE UP JOE POSTED

lahjay10_: (TOP 2) DAM SURE AINT 2! 🐐

> evie: TELL EM JAY

user: smash

evie: i think i need a hero… 🥵

> joeyb_9: i’ll be your knight in black shoulder pads.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 820,092 others

evie: big week 😳

view all 5,118 comments…

user: my favorite wag

user: if y’all actually are getting married im sick.

user: are you going to share what’s happening?

user: you look STUNNING

user: wym??

user: not prepared for what’s about to go down. i have a feeling.

joeyb_9: 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼

> user: oh shit

user: not joe about to ruin his life if speculation is true

> user: wow everyone is supportive until you realize he really isn’t ever going to leave her for you. this is crazy behavior!

evie

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 1,737,026 others

evie: i think i like this little life.. 🤍

view all 15,829 comments…

millyg: and that’s MRS. Evangeline Burrow!

> user: not me just now finding out ev’s full name

> user: Evangeline??? Excuse me, that’s beautiful.

user: she doesn’t deserve it.

lahjay10_: we was TURNT TF UP!

user: i am sick with jealousy

bengals: The King and his Queen, congratulations!

user: only ring he will ever get but congrats

> user: marrying the love of your life is a bigger dub than the sb ever will be.

user: congrats!

sam_hubbard_: Finally!!

user: i knew it was coming and somehow i convinced myself he was smarter than this..

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, millyg, and 1,290,001 others

joeyb_9: Mr. & Mrs.

view all 8,628 comments…

lahjay10_: congratulations brudda!

user: most overrated player in the nfl

> user: bro can’t you let him enjoy his wedding?

user: congrats, now go get that other ring!

user: i give it a few months before they are done with each other.

> user: considering they’ve been together for almost a decade, i don’t see that happening

user: we all wish we were ev rn!

bengals: that’s our QB, you lucky boy!

user: another thing to distract him from winning the super bowl

user: not fair

millyg: i’m not crying, you are. jk i am crying. i’ve been crying all day.

user: he’s too famous for this, he will get sick of her.

evies ig stories:

[thatseitagremlin]

gremlyn's danganronpa: despair time x digimon au

born to draw / world is a fuck / blender em all / i am au man / 410,757,864,530 unfinished wips /ref

everyone in the image is in elementary school age. this started because i wanted to draw kid charles in a stupidly oversized lab coat and stupidly oversized square glasses and it spiraled into this (though the au itself has been in the works for far longer)

as usual, yapping about the au under cut! but there is a LOT of text down there holy Shit. allusions to Certain DRDT Character Development Spoilers; knowledge about digimon isn't necessary but will be helpful! :)

the au's bones / plot summary

ultimate titles and hope's peak academy do not exist in this universe. the tragedy never happened. everyone still has their respective talents, which helps some characters (e.g. min is a normal student living an average life) and hurts others

mai akasaki is this universe's first ever chosen child / digidestined. she encounters her partner digimon, makes all kinds of friends (everyone else in the pic except teruko) who she loves dearly (even if all of them drive her up the wall in their own unique ways), and eventually (high school age), all of them get isekai'd to the digital world!! they get to go on a fun adventure and improve as people and be closer friends!!!!!

until the part where mai dies an untimely, Brutal death during the final battle. which was Not Supposed To Happen. Whoops!

her death and the circumstances surrounding it cause her friend group to fracture, and most of them do not cope well at all.

i'll probably make a separate post for this, but tl;dr after the final battle; hu and ace initially stay in the digital world to clean up the final battle's aftermath, with differing outlooks on life -> charles has a breakdown + remembers his buried childhood memories, preventing him to function for a good while -> whit tries to take care of him just as he once did but his shitty coping mechanisms and refusal to acknowledge anything make the overall group disorder even worse -> david secludes himself in the digital world after a week of no contact -> xander tries looking for him and david avoids him. worst situationship in existence -> j and arei run away from their respective families and stay together. funniest situationship in existence -> arei realizes how fucked everyone is and is determined to honor mai's memory by keeping tabs on everyone and making sure her stupid friends will be alright

a few years after (depending on how old everyone actually is in canon— college age?), when things have somewhat settled and half of them (arei, j, ace, charles) have moved on, working for their futures, a message from mai's partner digimon is sent to everyone. it's something along the lines of "Bring* Teruko Tawaki to the Digital World and we'll revive** Mai"

*teruko would probably die in exchange

**they don't know and can't know in what form would mai Hypothetically come back in

teruko is just trying to survive with her scraggly cat who she definitely does not project onto. now she has to fend off a bunch of weirdoes with their own funny animals that are trying to?? kidnap her???????? her bad luck kicks in and an innocent stranger (eden) gets dragged into this mess too so she's morally obligated to let said innocent stranger get away as far as possible. (un?)fortunately, eden wants everyone to be happy, so she isn't leaving until teruko's safety is also guaranteed

teruko and eden get front seats to mai's friends having too many internal conflicts and moral crises about potentially sacrificing an uninvolved stranger's life to bring their friend back

i have no idea how this ends. i just want to do some Character Building (bullying my blorbos)

digimon & crest assignments (major characters)

people who at least know of digimon adventure will now notice that all of the digimon here are the baby forms of partners relevant in digimon adventure continuity. it is very much intentional! ^w^

in this universe, digimon partners are "reflections of their human partner's souls", and can be roughly categorized into three groups: those who resemble their human, those who resemble their human's ideal self, and those who are direct manifestations of their human's problems

it is indeed possible for one to project onto their digimon

everyone meets their digimon partners during childhood. since the digimon hatch and grow up in the "real world", they take a while to evolve, and seem to change along with their humans

also this is where i put the disclaimer. i use jp terms and names 95% of the time soryr if you grew up with the dub :pensive:

hu: puroromon -> morphomon, crest of love. happy little butterfly :> butterflies represent change and rebirth, but hu's partner can't evolve like everyone else's partners even after their adventure? even after all these years, morphomon is still stuck in her child stage? how strange...

(morphomon evolves to hudiemon in arc 2 after hu finally accepts that things have changed irreversibly and she has to move on from the past, too)

ace: tokomon -> patamon, crest of courage. the direct manifestation of ace's fears, fate has seen it fit to give him exposure therapy by making patamon a snappy little dog that evolves to a horse (unimon).

(patamon -> unimon -> manticoremon -> sleipmon? i can't decide the final stage quite yet, but since his character substansially grows in arc 1, he unlocks said final stage before the end of arc 1)

david: tsunomon -> gabumon, crest of hope. i had to give xanvid agumon and gabumon because... You Know. whatever they're having good luck with that shit! gabumon's thing about being a reptile that wears a beast's fur coat to seem tougher is a. masking thing. i think. gabumon also could behave like how david was as a child

(gabumon -> garurumon -> weregarurumon -> cresgarurumon. yellow. cresgarurumon is unlocked during the final battle but can't be accessed again until after david and xander finally have a successful mutually civil conversation)

xander: koromon -> agumon, crest of light. protagonist energy. agumon is like a second xander and they constantly enable each other

(agumon -> greymon -> metalgreymon -> blitzgreymon. red. blitzgreymon is unlocked during the final battle but can't be accessed again until after david and xander finally have a successful mutually civil conversation)

good place to mention that i could swap david and xander's crests (david light / xander hope) and it'd still work. i personally interpret light as living and valuing life, even with the destinies and purposes one is burdened with, and that's why i gave it to the man with the definition of survivor's guilt hidden in his bio. also haha david "dubious protag" chiem and the funny h word. i would need to blender these two longer to pin down their crests once and for all but i'm leaning towards david hope / xander light for now

j: mochimon -> tentomon, crest of integrity / reliability. the juxtaposition of cute, squishy mochimon vs a ladybug that emits ELECTRICITY that evolves to even COOLER and SCARIER bugs!? tentomon is also more sympathetic than j to contrast them being the most judgmental person in this cast

(tentomon -> kabuterimon -> atlurkabuterimon blue -> rhinokabuterimon. unlocked before the end of arc 1 when j starts being more understanding of others without renouncing their own moral compass)

arei: pyocomon -> piyomon, crest of friendship. piyomon used to be the snappier, harsher one to protect arei from her sisters, but as they grew up, it's almost like their personalities reversed somehow...?

(piyomon -> cockatrimon -> delumon -> griffomon. the only stage that can fly is griffomon. unlocked before the end of arc 1 after arei's ch2e13 speech)

charles: tanemon -> palmon, crest of knowledge. plant baby that i jokingly call "charles jr" in my notes, just because the thought of palmon being charles' lab assistant and wearing goggles + labcoat was really cute...

(palmon -> sunflowmon -> toropiamon -> hydramon. poisonous guys. probably unlocked before the end of arc 1? i'm still figuring out how charles' arc would work if he grew up with whit, because on one hand a friend would help him, but on the other said friend is Whit Young and all the backstory involved with him)

whit: pukamon -> gomamon, crest of sincerity / purity. gomamon is more responsible than her partner though she's still pretty chill. i want to make her behave like whit's (idealization and idolization of his) mom, but it's probably gonna take like 5 years until he says anything more about her

(gomamon -> rukamon -> piccolomon? -> marinangemon. piccolomon was the best link i could figure out between a dolphin and a holy-adjacent sea angel. also this man is NOT getting marinangemon until late arc 2 at least. he needs the entire party to talk sense to him)

mai: nyaromon -> tailmon, crest of miracles. for Plot Reasons tailmon is silly!monotv. goofy and self-deprecating and makes shitty jokes. disappeared after mai's death and returns after a timeskip to implore mai's friends to bring it teruko tawaki

(tailmon -> kabukimon -> ofanimon. it's a lucky coincidence that kabukimon happens to be a tailmon armor evo. final stage unlocked during the final battle)

teruko: nyaromon. it looks like one at least. it's totally a nyaromon guys it's just like mai haha -> meicoomon, crest of fate. a scared kitty :( the manifestation of what remains of teruko's wish to have friends and trust others. meicoomon also appears to drive other digimon berserk just by being near them for long periods of time; a variation of teruko's bad luck, and the reason why these two are basically bound to each other. since teruko's bad luck hurts other people and meicoomon's "bad luck" hurts other digimon

(meicoomon -> meicrackmon vicious mode -> raguelmon. you know. probably a late evolver?)

eden: petitmeramon -> solarmon, crest of kindness. she isn't here but she's the most important character who i didn't draw. Sorry Eden. but solarmon is also like a second eden and they constantly enable each other

(solarmon -> clockmon. it's not that eden isn't getting development, it's just that i need clockmon to be plot relevant and i don't know what the two stages after could possibly be.)

digimon assignments (minor characters)

everyone in this part is irrelevant to the larger plot but i didn't wanna completely leave them out, esp since thinking of their hopes peak-less backstories could be really fun!!

however i have No Idea about what digimon most of these evolve to aside from like. canon stuff

min: minomon -> wormmon. bookworms :>

rose: budmon -> lalamon. silly plant thing :> they're -_- and :o buddies. evolves to togemon

nico: bowmon -> loogamon. as a nod to survive, i think loogamon is the one partner who can't talk in human language, but is very expressive? and nico quickly learns how their partner communicates and how to communicate with their partner

veronika: pagumon -> porcupamon. i had to give her the Spooky Bear Digimon there was no other way around it.

levi: tsumemon -> bemmon. ourple. generally the "unnatural" / unknown digimon tend to be purple, i just picked bemmon since it's probably getting a new evoline in liberators soon

arturo: puyoyomon -> jellymon. i had Absolutely Zero Idea for this guy and settled on Ghost Game's bastard of a jellymon because i want them to beef with each other

backstories and situations

mai is a perfectly normal girl with a loving family and many friends. her partner digimon isn't a "partner" in the same way everyone else's digimon are, but rather an individual (hence the monotv-like personality) who "chose" mai to be the hero of a predetermined story. a story that would end in its heroes becoming better people, having hope for the future

not all heroes succeed, though

charles and whit are childhood friends! yippee! they've been friends and stayed friends throughout most of their lives :) elliot and whit's mom still die, and charles still forgets about the former and possibly the latter :) i wonder where whit got those coping mechanisms from aha :D

i don't have concrete ideas for anyone else's backstory yet Sorry

the digimon partners could pass off as plushies in their baby forms but most of the cast probably had to spill the beans when they evolved to their child-sized forms forms

ryan keeps tempting j to unleash tentomon everytime paparazzi annoy them, to which the only thing stopping j from doing so is tentomon himself. elliot bullies palmon in the same way he bullies charles (affectionately). elizabeth treats gomamon like an actual dog and their neighbors think the young household has a dog who loves swimming a lot. patamon and agumon are popular with their partners' younger siblings. piyomon actually has successfully attacked arei's sisters

i think it'd be really funny if eden is popular enough in town to inexplicably at least know about the non-relevant characters + their digimon, no matter how unlikely. maybe classmates with min and rose, met nico in a cat cafe and stayed in contact, levi works nearby, saw arturo and jellymon argue in public

i'm not a shipper by any means, so i can't and won't write explicitly romantic relationships. but if it helps, my initial thoughts for relationships were queerplatonic charwhit, jarei situationship where neither of them know or care wtf they're doing, xanvid broken pedestals and breaking up in every way possible, and hu + ace... whatever you call "most divorced pair of people despite 1) never marrying and 2) one of them being a gay man". feel free to do your own spin on things though!

also little fun tidbit: the digimon's base colors (except teruko's nyaromon) are colorpicked from digimon world championship sprites just as a fun little challenge, and the color-coded lineart is meant to showcase that they're digital lifeforms physically existing in the real world

[wisteriagoesvroom]

📚 10 f1 fics i've loved lately 🏎️

been thinking a lot about how to organise fic recs into some sort of sensible post, 'cus there are so many (great!) pairings and (delicious!) driver combinations, not to mention so many varying styles of fic and SUPER TALENTED WRITERS!!111!!

just gonna list a bunch in no particular order, with accompanying pics, so you can get a sense of the vibes.

'cus what is f1 rpf but all about the ✨ vibes?! 🏁

p.s. people are in this community making amazing stuff for freeee!! if you liked these please leave a kudos or a comment, it makes a writer's day 🫡 

let's gooooo--

objects in the mirror by linearity (@drivestraight) charles/max. 87k words (series), rated t then e

listen. LISTEN! charles to rbr is one of the best premises ever and i will read it in like a thousand iterations. but this fic. this fic series in particular cleared my skin, made me want to cut my hair into a bob out of sheer emotion. i would be remiss not to start with this one because its impact on my f1 rpf trajectory should be studied by science. you know when a story just jumps off the page and it's so real that it becomes your canon. a kind of meteoric inevitability. plus, i almost never cry at fics. but by the time the third act of this one hit, i just went -- damn, am i rly about to tear up at a f1 rpf fanfiction rn? (yes.)

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sawtooth by nottonyharrison (@nottonyharrison) charles/max. 40k words, rated e

max as a f1 engineer? for CARLOS at FERRARI? sign me the fuckkk up. first off, awesome premise. there's always going to be something so heartwrenching about "what ifs", especially in any universe where max isn't a racer. despite the change of circumstances, just... the sheer poetry of two characters who just inexplicably find their way to each other in any universe... 🤧 also this story nails racing scenes in a way that's so visceral, i feel like a fly on the damn halo with them. and, aside from the gourmet lestappen, carlos's whole thing in this fic is joyous! spicy! he's so unapologetic and vaguely annoying! hilarious! + the swimming pool scene lives rent-free in my head.

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salt skin by peachbellini (@strawberry-daiquiris) oscar/lando. 12k words, rated e

this fic is magic. literally and figuratively. (MERMAID LANDO???? MERMAID LANDO.) the kind of story that makes you gasp and melt a little bit. and made me want to throw my phone at the writer, 'cause it's really that good. the yearning, the metaphor for all that's monstrous, a boy who is lost (and the boy who he finds, is equally so). this is just beautifully written and a little quirky and so well executed. i think i put it in my bookmarks as "what if lando was a mermaid and it was filmed by a24" or something. pearl of a story.

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hockey!! shrimp colors :) by leafmeal0ne (@ocontraire) oscar/lando. 13k words, rated t

leaf meal one. i have only known you a week but if anything were to happen to you i would wreck everyone in the room including myself. in all seriousness, anything that leaf writes is brilliant. they're one of these writers who could do a throwaway line on the label of a ketchup bottle and i will probably scream about it. the precision, the way they switch up sentence structures, the freaking darcy-level regency yearning transposed onto a contemporary sports setting. i'd rec all of leaf's sports AUs and i'll probably talk about more in a future fic rec post. BUT. the hockeyyy one my GOD. the barely restrained violence, their mutual desire, the theme of finding your place... *wails uncontrollably*

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you almost unearthly thing by anonymous max/daniel, 3.7k words, rated g

max is a governess(govern..lad?) and daniel is the mystery man at the manor. this was a response to a request i made in the kinkmeme! (if you haven't read those fics go check 'em out, there are so many great ones, and not necessarily all rated e). this is a criminally underrated little story that has my favourite repressed feelings + people dancing around each other + gothic vibes + "what the hell is wrong with y'all in this tale" combo that i really adore. it's really well written and captures the atmosphere so well.

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the so-called narrative by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) oscar/carlos, 10k words, rated e

i'm once again asking why there are only 7 carlos/oscar works in the tag. I'M ONCE AGAIN ASKING-- *is sedated*. *jolts awake* okay but for real this is a great story. hot, fake-friendship-to-situationship which so happens is one of my favourite places to be. also hello miscommunication/they're so weird about it/they both want each other but can't express themselves for shit/insane racer boys energy.

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and silver, and samarium by pink_mink (@on-softs) george/toto, 5.2k words, rated e

i profess i am not usually the biggest fan of A/B/O (altho!! this fandom has made me go BUT ACTUALLY HM at least a few times). and this fic freaking nails it, along with the twisted power dynamics between TPs and drivers, as seen through the lens of omegaverse. this story rattles around my head like a stubborn ghoul just from the style and prose and sheer audacity alone. george kneeling at toto's knees while he's working..... ohhhhhhhhh i was this close to calling my lawyers.

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algorithm by anney (@badboy-george) charles/max, 16k words, rated e

i LOVE, LOOOOVE a sci fi concept alright. love that shit, will inhale it like moon dust with zero regrets. and what a fantastic one this one is!! the premise is that the FIA can now statistically show the compatibility of drivers on the grid and it's very pacific rim-y drift compatible, mixed with the surreal vibes of eternal sunshine or HER or some such. it should be outrageous, but it really works. that's the beauty of a great fic right there.

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trajectory of trojan asteroids by redpaint (@redpaint) nico/lewis, 3.3k words, rated g

also one of the fics i first read when i hopped on board the f1 rpf train. the pain and poignancy just gets worse the more i learn about brocedes. you know when you're like "there's no way this was reallll" and then you're like "fuck, it was so real". then you get a fic like this that just encapsulates all that rage and loss and grief and upset, set against the starry vista of endless space. *clutches tablecloth* god.

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p.s please bear in mind that these recs are entirely subjective! i enjoy loads of f1 stories but these are the ones that have especially stuck with me for some inexplicable reason.

p.p.s if your fic is on here and you want it taken off for whatever reason, i'm happy to, no questions asked 💛

BYE for now / until part 2. (i also love talking to ppl about fics so pls feel free to send an ask or hit me up in DMs or whatever.)

xoxo, -- wizz

[babydollitzel]

Could you write dallas x female reader who has baby fever and maybe he teases her about it or get annoyed??? I just think it would be cute if dal was with someone who likes kids cause it would be so opposite of him! Tyyy and i love u and ur writing style!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dallas Winston x fem!reader w baby fever

˗ˏˋ ꒰a/n꒱ ˎˊ˗ I haven’t posted in a month I’m just lazy but I’ll try getting back on track😣+ I love you too babes I love all yall💕anyways I don’t like how this came out I’m thinking abt making a cuter version or one with Dallas as a dad☝🏻

Dallas knew you were fond of children, especially babies with their little chubby cheeks and that soft baby scent. But recently you’re baby fever has been through the roof. Everytime you go shopping you can’t help but drift off to the baby section, going through all the cute clothes and toys. It made you wonder what a little baby with Dallas would look like, which is where this baby fever all started.

୨ৎ

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, you and your boyfriend Dallas were laying in his bed. His thin blanket that smelled of cigarettes and cheap cologne was messily draped over you as he was leaned back against the headboard. You on the other hand couldn’t get this whole ‘baby’ idea of out your head, so you decided to speak up.

“Have you ever considered having kids?” You knew he didn’t like kids, and it was confirmed after you saw him chase two poor little kids as a, “joke”, but you still gave the question a try.

He let out a little scoff and ran a hand through his messy dark hair, almost as if he was surprised you didn’t already know the answer to that. "Kids? Me? Nah, man you know I ain't the type. They’re nothin’ but little brats…can’t stand ‘em.”He replied, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag.

You huffed at his answer, you should’ve known that’d be his answer, but you were still been hoping for something different. “C’mon you’re just focusing on the bad stuff, they’re not all brats you know.”

He took the cigarette out of his mouth to let out one of his ridiculous sounding laughs, “Oh yeah? Then what’s so good about them? Enlighten me.”

You almost rolled your eyes at his seemingly mocking tone but you took this as an opportunity to show him that babies weren’t just whiny little brats. “How don’t you see it? They’re adorable! They have the cutest pouty lips and just imagine what a baby of our own would look like! I’m sure you’d change your mind when you get to hold a baby of your own for the first time.” You said, hoping to change his mind about kids.

Dallas chuckled, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t entertained at how desperately you were trying to convince him. “Adorable? Yeah right..” He said, almost as if he was shrugging off everything you had just said. “And believe me, I ain’t ever holding no damn baby in my arms. No way..they’re too fragile.”

His last statement made you rethink the whole situation, it made you come to the conclusion that maybe he was just scared. You sat up. “I’m starting to think you’re just scared of the possibility, just saying” You said with a little shrug.

He raised a brow. He wasn’t expecting you to try and get all psychologists on him. “Scared? I ain’t scared of nothin’.”He said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone, as if he was moreover trying to convince himself more than you. It was just the thought of children, something that he’d always told himself he disliked, so of course he wouldn’t change his mind about them that quickly.

You smiled a little at his defensiveness but let it slide, you knew it was gonna take more than a couple words to convince him to have a baby with you later on in life, so you decided to just leave it at that. “Yeah whatever..we’re not done with this whole baby topic though” You were determined to have a mini combination of you and Dallas running around Buck’s place sometime in the future.

Dallas let out a soft scoff, “Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart.” He said with a little smirk. He knew that you weren’t gonna let this go, and honestly he found it amusing that you were so stubborn about it, even after he shot you down several times. But the thought of a mini you and him combined did have him curious.

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

i need a mark lee drabble so bad like hes soo attractive 🫡🫡

I highkey owe yall a mark fic so even though this was submitted after closing i'll indulge lol.

Hes a little drabble from a WIP im supposed to be working on lmaoooo. I have no idea when it will be done, but nothings set in stone so if you wanna see certain elements in this fic lmk and ill put em to the side once i get to writing this.

Baby, I'm a rockstar Mark x reader sneak peak

“You only joined to get back at me!” Mark insists, his tone a mix of frustration and accusation.

“Hmm, not quite. I also joined to sleep with Jeno,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly as you lean against the wall, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Mark’s band, Limitless, had recently lost its lead singer, Yuta, who had been signed to a major label, effectively sidelining the rest of the group. The sudden vacancy left the members feeling tense and unsure of their future as a band.

Mark posted about the opening along with the audition details, you felt an irresistible pull to be there. It was a chance to reclaim some of the passion you once shared with music—just as much as it was an opportunity to confront Mark again.

Your relationship with him had ended on shaky terms; he had chosen the band over you, pouring himself into rehearsals and gigs, and leaving little room for anything else. You often wondered if he had ever truly cared, or if you had just been a distraction from his ambitions. Now, it was hard to resist throwing barbs his way whenever possible, letting him know exactly how you felt about his choices.

Mark crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Right, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in the music.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Oh, please. I live for music. But let’s be real; having a shot at a date with Jeno is a nice bonus, too. Just imagine how awkward that’ll make it for you when you see us together.”

His face twists in annoyance, but you can’t quite tell if he’s more irritated by your boldness or the idea of you moving on without him. You relish in the tension, eager to remind him of everything he lost. After all, he left you for the band, and now you were back, ready to disrupt his world just like he had disrupted yours.

“You're childish! You're wasting my time. I know you don’t really care about this,” Mark snaps, exasperation etched across his face.

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you retort, arching an eyebrow. A smirk creeps onto your lips as you continue, “Your band members agree. They voted me in, remember?” You watch as he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in his frustration. “And the last time I checked, you needed a singer—and now you’ve got one.”

“You—” Mark starts, but then he stops mid-sentence, clearly grappling with his emotions.

“Huh? What’s that?” you prompt, leaning in slightly, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the air crackles with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that wants to lash out versus the part that knows you’re right. It’s almost satisfying to watch him struggle, to see the realization that his band’s fate now rests in your hands. The smile on your face widens, fueled by the thrill of the challenge and the satisfaction of reclaiming your voice—both in music and in this ongoing rivalry.

“Let me catch you slip up, I’ll give you hell” He spits, shoulder-checking you on his way out of the practice room.

Oh you were going to have so much fun fucking with him.

[alfredo0724]

Final Timeline Headcanons

I've had a lot of silly thoughts about stuff happening in the final timeline, so here's a few of em!

I'll be posting more over time 💖 Manga spoilers below -

Part two Part three ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Mikey invited Takemichi to train at his family's dojo to train. Takemichi even brings Hina to the dojo too.

Senju and South become good friends. She likes sparring with him at the gym. Waka and Benkei are really proud they were able to train those too very well. Outside of the gym, they both like touring Japan together.

Taiju and Hakkai often get scolded by Yuzuha after coming back from Toman fights. She knows they're strong but she still worries about them a lot. Taiju doesn't want to stress her out so he always keeps an eye on Hakkai.

Hanma is still very chaotic. He often teases Draken, especially when Emma is around. He even calls Draken "Ken-chin" after hearing Mikey say that and he does it just to piss off Draken.

Everyone in Toman cares for Hina a lot. They all get along with her very well and she even cares about them a lot too. They always make sure she's safe and happy.

Kisaki is toman's tutor. He wants everyone in Toman to succeed in the future so he pressures them into having good grades in school. He often worries for Mikey since he goes to school late and keeps Baji from getting held back.

Mikey is a massive third wheel and even fifth wheel when Drakemma and Takehina go on dates. Except he does this willingly because he enjoys their company and won't turn down an opportunity for food.

When the time was right, Shinichiro invited Izana to live with him and his family, and also took Kakucho in too. Kakucho considers the Sano household as his new home and becomes close with everyone in the family.

Ran volunteers to model some of Mitsuya's designs. This makes Hakkai jealous sometimes.

Kisaki and Takemichi have a very interesting friendship. They don't share a lot of common interests but they're still very close. Sometimes Takemichi invites Kisaki to go bowling and even teaches him how to get better at it.

Luna and Mana love playing with/braiding Baji and Sanzu's hair. Ran was skeptical of little kids touching his hair, but eventually let them. They show up to meetings with ribbons and clips they accidentally left in their hair from them.

Benkei and Wakasa get a lot of earnings from Toman members. Mikey brings his friends to the gym sometimes.

The first time Inui's birthday came around, nearly everyone bought him new high heels. He's got so many that he won't be needing a new pair for a few years.

Koko and Kisaki have intellectual conversations that leave other people confused. They're competitive with each other in their academic standings. Despite their rivalry, they manage to become good friends and use their talent to start their investment business.

[libraryofloveletters]

Written In The Photos - Social Media Series

decided to take a little break from writing (I will still be writing after this, don’t worry!) but I didn’t want to leave you guys without content so I present the Written In The Photos series. each driver/player has a song and their post is inspired by said song :) I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed making it <3 // special thank you to my bestie @themandaloriansdiaries for all her help with song choices and all the cracked out convos we had to put it together. 

Carlos Sainz Jr - Smooth Operator by Sade

late nights, jet leg and messed up sleep schedules lead to words spoken which would normally be kept to themselves. 

Jack Grealish - Hot Girl Summer by Meg Thee Stallion 

party after party, Jack seems to be spotted with the same girl over and over again.

Lewis Hamilton - Loveeeeeee Song by Rihanna and Future 

he’s sick and tired of seeing you in private, he wants the world to know you’re his. 

Sergio Ramos - Way 2 Sexy by Drake 

working for a footballer isn’t easy, it’s even harder when everyone thinks you’re dating. ( footballer x pr manager)

Max Verstappen  - Can We Still Friends by Tyler, The Creator

even the best of the friends can have falling outs, especially when you’re on opposites side of the track.  (teammate/rival!reader)

Andy Robertson - I’m Still In Love With You by Sean Paul ft. Sasha and Jeremy Harding

so many years apart and you’re still in love with the same guy you’ve always been in love with.

Lance Stroll - Stuck With You by Ariana Grande 

every relationship goes sour, except for the one you had with a certain brown eyed boy. 

Pato O’Ward -  Sunday Candy by Nico Segal 

snapshots of love and life with the love of your life.

Jude Bellingham - P Power by Gunna ft Drake  

young and in love, you two find yourselves making headlines more often than not. 

Sebastian Vettel - Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado and Timberland 

can’t keep his hands off you and can’t keep the flirty comments away. (redbull seb) 

Kylian Mbappe  -  Hotel Room Service by Pitbull 

secrets unravel when you’re caught together in spain.  

Jenson Button - Money by Cardi B 

diamonds are a girl’s best friend after all (sugar daddy!jenson)

Ruben Dias - Golden Hour by JVKE 

you supported him through it all, it only made sense you were the one there in the end. 

George Russell - London Boy by Taylor Swift 

grey weather is a bit of a downer, unless you have someone by your side. 

Bukayo Saka - Star Boy by The Weeknd

proud, proud, proud; you showed everyone just how proud you really were. 

Mick Schumacher - Dark Red by Steve Lacy 

he only has eyes for one girl and it’s the one girl he wasn’t supposed to be looking at. (vettel!reader)

Neymar Jr - Tití Me Preguntó by Bad Bunny 

he promised to change, you were stupid enough to believe him but people never really change do they?

Lando Norris - Young, Dumb and Broke by Khalid 

regret makes people do crazy things. 

John Stones - I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston 

your husband winning the treble calls for celebration and you two finally get the night out you deserve. 

Esteban Ocon - Sure Thing by Miguel 

attached at the hip; the sunshine to his rain. you were everything to him. 

Erling Haaland - Sunday Mornings by Maroon 5

sunday mornings were a bit of a tradition for you, everyone notices when the pattern changes.

Pierre Gasly - Creepin’ by The Weeknd 

loyalty runs both ways, until it doesn’t anymore but nothing ever really changes, does it?

Virgil Van Dijk - Let ‘Em Know by Bryson Tiller 

some things never change, no matter how much you try. 

Fernando Alonso - I’m Still Standing by Elton John 

looking up and looking down, it never felt so right. 

Jordan Henderson - If I Ain’t Got You by Alicia Keys 

with your 10th anniversary around the corner, you both get a bit in your feels.

Charles Leclerc - A Sunday Kind Of Love by Etta James 

races, weddings and races again; sundays hold a special place in his heart. 

Trent Alexander Arnold - One Kiss by Dua Lipa

all it took was one kiss and the floodgates were opened. 

Daniel Ricciardo - Woo by Rihanna

monaco is good to those who are good to it, especially those who win. every winner deserves a prize worthy of a king.

Christian Pulisic - Unforgettable by French Montana and Swae Lee

the star player and the ex girlfriend of his closest teammate are spotted together; you’re too unforgettable.

Kostas Tsimikas - Boyfriend by Ariana Grande and Social House

you were his until you weren't, but then you were again. the two of you tangled in the sheets and in a web of confusion; were you or were you not?

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 19)

au masterlist

notes: this is late and short and i apologize for that! i’ve had such a busy few days

y/ndevils00

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, and 462,921 others

y/ndevils00 WE WON!! WE ACTUALLY WON!!

i mean… yeah, it’s cool, we won.

with the return of my absolute favorite captain (sorry Quinnifer), the devilish whores won 7-2 against the swords!

we kicked off the scoring just a minute and a half into the first with a goal from Holtzy, and almost 10 minutes later, got a goal from uncle Toffee to give us a 2-0 lead!

but that’s not all! just 4 minutes later, captain slut got his first goal back!! GO NICOLAS!!! and in true boyfriends fashion, he acquired his first goal back the same way that Jacky did; on his first game back, in the first period of the game, with a goal that had to be confirmed by officials that it was a good goal! how utterly boyfriends of them! they definitely planned that!

and to end first period, we got yet another EVEN strength goal (no power play goals yet here!) from Pally Pocket!! giving us a FOUR goal lead on those bitches from buffalo!

in second period we got yet another goal from Tyler the creator, just 2 minutes in! bringing the score to 5-1! thank you, queen! and then the rest of that period was boring af

BUT THIRD PERIOD! OH I LOVED THIRD PERIOD! we opened that period and made it our bitch with a goal from MY best friend in the whole big wide world, Dawg-son Mercer!! EVERYBODY CHEER! WOOOOO!!! (with an assist from my lovely pain in the ass, babygirl!)

AND LASTLY, WITH OUR ONE AND ONLY POWER PLAY GOAL, WE HAVE MY (hopefully) FUTURE LITTLE BROTHER, LUKEY ‘SMUSH’ HUGHES!!! LET’S GO, BABY HUGHES!! SHOW ‘EM WHAT YOU’RE MADE OF!!

i’ll see you guys on tuesday after we play the long island iced teas!

tagged holtz_10, tofff73, nicohischier, pally_18, jackhughes, dawson1417, and lhughes_06

Load more comments

john.marino97 i don’t even get my own pic tonight?

y/ndevils00 i only have so many spots Jonathan! what am i supposed to do, you didn’t score a goal! do you want me to just take someone’s pic away to fit you in?!

john.marino97 1. not my name. 2. yes

y/ndevils00 NO! stop being greedy— jesus you’re like a stray cat, i feed you love once and you never leave me alone again

john.marino97 one could argue that you’re actually the stray cat

y/ndevils00 am i the one begging for your love right now? no!

john.marino97 i could post a photo of what you’re doing right now and it would suggest otherwise…

user29 what’s she doing right now?!

lhughes_06 @/user29 john is giving her a piggyback ride throughout the empty arena because she wouldn’t leave him alone

jackhughes how tf did you get the last picture from the press box?

y/ndevils00 ✨zoom✨

jackhughes well i need you to ✨zoom✨ out and stop camera stalking me while i’m on the bench. WATCH THE GAME.

y/ndevils00 don’t tell me what to do?

jackhughes you’re right, i’m sorry for telling you to do your job

y/ndevils00 you should be. thank you!

nicohischier you called me anything but my name

y/ndevils00 obviously? do you not see my gag here Nicole?

nicohischier i see it, i hate it, i ask you to do better

y/ndevils00 HEY DON’T TAKE MY LINE!

nicohischier too late. took it. made it my own.

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes PUT YOUR BITCH ON A LEASH

jackhughes but you’re my bitch?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes take that back right now

jackhughes or what?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes or i’ll tell Sid?

jackhughes consider it unsaid 🫡

user01 NICO AND LUKE GOALS AND WE WON

user63 “bitches from buffalo” is how i’ll be referring to them now tysm

holtz_10 please leave me out of this

y/ndevils00 you’re part of the team, are you not? you’re briefly photographed and mentioned just shut up and say thank you

holtz_10 for what? you didn’t even congratulate me

john.marino97 bro, it’s not worth the fight, just say it

holtz_10 thank you?

y/ndevils00 you’re welcome, swedish meatball!

tofff73 thank you and you’re welcome, queen!

y/ndevils00 TAKE NOTES PEOPLE! THIS IS WHAT YOU DO!

dawson1417 you’ve been here for like 2 months and you already make the rest of us look bad, Toff

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 you could NEVER look bad to me, honey bun! the others, however, could use some work

lhughes_06 i’ll be your future brother if i have any say in it

jackhughes but you DON’T have any say in it?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that’s what YOU think

jackhughes i- what does that even mean?

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes wouldn’t you like to know

jackhughes i’m pretty sure YOU don’t even know

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes you can’t prove that (i don’t)

dawson1417 CHEERING!! WOOOO!!! YAY ME!!

y/ndevils00 alright london tipton, let’s tone it down a little before somebody thinks you’re conceited

dawson1417 you’re right, sorry, GO TEAM!

y/ndevils00 there we go!! (we can cheer for just you off insta! nobody else matters!)

dawson1417 can we go out for drinks to celebrate me?

y/ndevils00 are you buying?

dawson1417 sure?

y/ndevils00 then ABSOLUTELY!!

user87 so are we just gonna breeze past “Pally pocket” … like polly pocket?

y/ndevils00 i liked to chew on the clothes <3

jackhughes i’m concerned for your well being

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you keep me sane 🥰

jackhughes well it’s a lot of work and i don’t think i’m doing a very good job

[purpleajisai]

Uchiha Observation n°1: Sasuke’s lineage - headcanons, storyline and hints in canon

This post is part of the worldbuilding process for a fanfic idea that I’ve been maturing over the past year, so I will update this if needed. I have wondered about the relationship between Madara and Sasuke for a long while now, and I knew there has to be a deeper connection than just reincarnations of Indra. The moment that piqued my interest was the point that Hashirama made about Sasuke looking like Izuna, implying that if Madara saw someone so similar to his beloved younger brother he could listen to what Sasuke had to say and perhaps change his mindset in regards to the war.

This cannot be a coincidence. Today, I’m going to share my headcanon regarding Madara and Sasuke’s kinship: Sasuke is Madara’s great nephew, connnected through Izuna. Here is the genealogical tree:

First of all, let’s explain Izuna’s generation. Of course, you can see Madara represented there as an older brother as well as the 4 unnamed younger siblings mentioned in the river flashbacks. The language used by Madara suggest that there were 5 other siblings aside from him, not 5 in total and including him. In the case of Izuna, according to the databooks he died at age 24, which is definitely old enough to be married and have a child.

And perhaps the readers are wondering why I’m not considering Madara to be married as well since he’s not only older than Izuna but also the clan leader. The only reason why I’m not giving him a wife and kids at the time of Izuna’s death is because I want to adhere to canon in this regard (no spoilers about the fic’s plot).

In the storyline I’ve planned, Izuna would die and leave behind a little baby or even a pregnant wife. The exact moment is yet undecided. However, it is through this only son of Izuna from which we can connect him to Sasuke. Once Izuna’s son grows up, having the pressure of being the last surviving heir to the clan, it’s not far-fetched for this man to have more than 2 children to ensure his legacy and prevent the clan from descending into anarchy. The reason why his firstborn son, who would be Izuna’s eldest grandson, is marked as “disgraced” in this chart is because the existence of this generation collides with the 2nd Great Ninja War. A possible reason I may consider to add for his fall into disgrace and shunning by the clan is that he would’ve left some Uchiha comrades to die in order to protect important Konoha intel, therefore gaining the reputation of a traitor and not being suitable for inheriting the clan’s leadership.

With the eldest son banned from the position of clan heir, the younger son would immediately take his place. From the disgraced eldest brother, we get Obito’s ancestry, and from the younger brother we get Mikoto’s generation. For Obito’s case, I theorize a normal Uchiha picked at random wouldn’t be able to handle the toll of Madara’s eyes, whether in EMS or Rinnegan form. Technically speaking, these eyeballs are actually Izuna’s, reinforcing his importance for this lineage. Please consider the importance of genetics in handling kekkei genkai in the Naruto universe. For Mikoto’s case, I added an older brother for her. Why? Because it used to be a custom in the Sengoku period and the subsequent Edo period to follow agnatic (male-only) succession for leadership. The death of Mikoto’s brother would put Fugaku as a leader, given that he’s the husband of a bearer of the lineage of clan leaders.

Finally, we get to Itachi and Sasuke. Neither one nor another were “normal” Uchiha: both unlocked the mangekyo sharingan and handled the toll of the Susano’o, among other remarkable feats. If Sasuke is connected to Madara through Izuna’s descendants, it would imply the existence of a direct line of ancestry that starts with Indra himself. The headcanons regarding the internal structure of the Uchiha clan will be discussed in a future post. The direct family line from Izuna to Sasuke can therefore explain why both looked so similar (recessive genetics) and why Madara felt nostalgic or touched at the sight of someone who resembled his beloved little brother so much.

Thanks for reading thus far, and if you have any questions plkease use the blog’s ask box.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

make you mine 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, age gap, possible abuse, alcoholism, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father is strict but his authority is challenged by the boy in town and the man at his door.

Characters: Arvin Russell, Lee Bodecker

Note: you know what, why shouldn't I?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You keep your head down as you near the store. That group of boys is smoking at the corner again, their stained white tees and dusty old flannel jackets smell of sawdust and oil. Your daddy always tells you not to talk to strange men and except for him, they're all strange. 

"Hey, doll, where you in a rush to?" One of them flicks a cigarette away as he breathe smoke behind you. 

You hurry up as he whistles, "yeah, walk faster, girl. Wiggle them hips." 

"Quiet," another hisses and you hear the heavy thump of a slap against his shoulder, "ain't no way to talk to a lady." 

Footsteps rush after you and before you can reach the door, it opens, the bell jangling above as one of the men pulls it back. You look at his boots, grimy, laces fraying, slouching around the ankles. His other hand dangles by his side, cap folded in his grip. 

"I'm really sorry about Jethro, miss, he's got a real nasty mouth," he says, "you alright?" 

You nod and say nothing as you continue inside. 

"You're scarin' her, Arv," another man calls over, "look at her shaking in her shoes." 

He sighs and lets the door close between you as he turns back to respond. His words are muffled as you take a basket and flit into an aisle. Mr. Canavan is behind the counter, flipping through a newspaper as the radio crackles. You pick out the few staples running low in your pantry and add on a bottle of rum for your pa. 

"Afternoon, miss," Canavan greets in his piggish snort. You return the sentiment as you wait for him to tally up your order. "How's your daddy?" 

"Good, good," you answer as you peek towards the window. The men cross the street and disperse, some still walking in pairs. 

"He got a thirst?" he comments on the bottle. 

"Doesn't he always?" You count out the money and hand it to him. 

"Yeah but he usually takes care of that down at Hal's." 

"Lost too much on the table last time," you shake your head as he gives you back the change. 

He packs up a paper bag and you thank him, sliding it off the counter. It's heavy and makes your shoulders ache. You shouldn't have waited so long. 

You push the door open with your hip and turn, nearly colliding with another. The same man chuckles as he puts a hand on your elbow to keep you from toppling. You bite your lip and his eyes fall to his touch, dropping his arm guiltily. 

"Sorry, miss," he says as he sweeps back a curly lock that droops down his forehead, putting his cap over his hair to hold it back, "didn't mean to scare ya." 

"It's fine," you nearly whisper. 

"I wanted to say sorry again for my friends, if I can call them that. They don't see ladies often and they forget their manners." 

"Really, it's okay," you insist with a squeak. 

"Nah, it isn't," he counters, "but I told 'em to leave you alone." 

"Oh, thank you," you look past him. 

There's a pause. Awkward as he digs his heel into the ground. He chuckles and rubs his hands together. 

"That looks heavy, can I help ya with that?" he asks. 

You look at your armful. You don't know if you should. Would he be mad if you say no? He hasn't been mean. 

"Just halfway," he offers, "not tryna creep on ya or nothing, I'll just walk you to your corner." 

You press your lips together. Your daddy wouldn't see him at the corner.  

"I really feel bad about those other jerks," he continues, "so least I can do is carry your groceries." 

"Okay," you utter. 

You stand stupidly as he grins at you. You catch a glimpse of his dark eyes and crooked smile before your eyes return to the ground. He gently reaches to shift the bag out of your arms and lifts it easily. He steps back and you feel his gaze hanging over you. 

"Which way am I goin?" he asks. 

"Oh, uh," you point past him. 

He turns and waits for you to come up beside him before he starts off. He's shorter than the others but his shoulders are broad. He's still got a couple inches on you, though he's much trimmer. You catch up and focus on keeping pace with him. 

"I'm Arvin," he says. 

"Um," you breathe and muster your name in return. 

"I like that. It's pretty. Hope you're husband wouldn't mind me sayin' so." 

"Husband? I'm not–" 

You stop at the corner as you wait for several cars to pass before crossing. A brown and white cruiser rolls past and you watch the bumper disappear down the next street. You continue on as Arvin kicks a pebble unwittingly. 

"Not married?" he finishes for you. 

"I live with my pa," you answer. 

"Course. You must be young then." 

"I'm grown," you insist.  

You hate how your daddy teases you in the same vein, especially when he has friends over. It felt worse coming from someone nearly your own age, or looks to be. 

"Ah, just wonderin'," he assures. 

You're quiet as you carry on. You know you shouldn't still be at home. Lots of girls in Knockemstiff marry before they finish school. You haven't even had a date, not a kiss, or a look in your direction. 

"Just up here," you point to the next corner. 

He nods and carries on, stopping at the end of the street as he turns to you, "you sure I can't walk you all the way?" 

"My pa wouldn't like that." 

"He loves you, huh?" 

"He's my pa," you shrug and reach for the bag. He hands it over reluctantly. 

"I hope I see ya around. I work down at the mill. For Mr. Haroldson. Case you're wonderin' where to find me." 

"Thanks," you hug the groceries. 

He gives a tight-lipped smile. Disappointment twitches in his cheek. 

"See ya ‘round then." 

"Maybe," you answer as you turn away. 

You continue down your street. Halfway, you look back. Still watching you, he waves and slowly walks back the way you came. You spin back along the old country road, houses speckled over flat fields. You pass the rusty old brown truck at the edge of your pa's property, the sheriff's cruiser parked closer to the shed. 

You didn't expect company tonight. It must've been the same cruiser you saw at the corner. Your dread bubbles up but you quickly tamp it down. The sheriff always makes you nervous. He's talkative and you're... not. 

As you go inside, you hear your pa grumbling. You put down the groceries as the screen door clatters and take off your tweed jacket. You hang it as you step out of your boots. 

"You know we miss you down at the station," Bodecker's voice nears as his footsteps lurk, "there she is." 

Before you can retrieve your haul, he has it in his arms, "how ya doin', baby girl?" 

His usual pet name makes you squirm. Your pa says it's just him being nice. You never say anything against it. 

"I got it–" 

You try to take the bag but he holds it away from you. 

"Nah, what kinda man would I be, let alone a sheriff, if I didn't help a lady?" 

He winks and turns away from you, leading you past the doorway of the front room. You peer over at your father as he scowls and gulps from a can of beer. The sheriff likely brought the appeasing six pack to ease his presence. 

"What's for dinner tonight?" Bodecker asks as he puts the bag on the counter, peering inside. 

"I'm making a meat pie," you explain as you go to the fridge, "be more than enough for company, if you like?" 

"Now, how'd such a sweet thing like you come from that old coot?" He smirks over as you take out the beef wrapped in brown paper. 

You shrug and take the cutting board from against the wall. He doesn't move as you set up around him. You hate how his eyes follow you. Every time he's around. 

"You don't gotta work?" You ask as you reach for the bag. He pushes it towards you as he steps closer, looming over you. 

"I'm off duty for the night. Think I might indulge with your daddy," he reaches into the bag, his belly brushing your elbow as he lifts out the rum, "good brand." 

"Pa likes it," you step away as you search the cupboard. 

"You're old enough, you could join us after dinner–" 

"I don't like the taste and my pa don't want me drinking," you kneel to pull a pan out from the drawer. 

"Good habit not to take up," he clunks the bottle on the counter and rests his hand on the neck, "that boy you were walkin' with, he your friend?" 

"Boy? No, he was being helpful is all." 

"Was he, now?" He comes closer as you stand, "I know that boy, he ain't helpful." 

You glance at him. His blue eyes cling to you and you don't miss how they wander to the top of your blouse. You put the pan down and turn to grab your apron.  

He comes up behind you and takes the string, tying them tight as you wince in surprise. 

"Well, you're young. I'm sure you're fixing to find a husband soon. I'm just lookin' out for you." 

"I'm not looking for a husband," you draw away from him, "thank you, sheriff." 

"Well, your daddy won't live forever. Who's gonna take care of you, then?" 

You face him and frown, "I don't wanna think about that, sheriff, and I got dinner to make." 

"I'm sorry, baby girl, I worry about you. How long have I known you? I can't help it." 

"Thank you, sheriff, for worrying, but I'll be just fine." 

He tilts his head, bemusement sparkles in his vibrant irises, "I'm sure ya will be, baby girl… very fine." 

He sidles away and you return to the counter, pulling a knife from the block. The sooner dinner's on the table, the sooner you can go hide. 

🍽️

You clear your plate first, dinner’s made less appetizing by the sheriff and his leer. Your father doesn't help as he drinks more than he talks and you're left to entertain Lee's comments about your cooking and the same blouse he'd seen you in a dozen times. 

As you stand, the sheriff slurps from his beer and watches you. His lips shine as he puts the can down and smirks, "baby girl, you mind gettin' me the ketchup?" 

You swallow and nod, "certainly, sheriff." 

You turn and carry your plate into the kitchen, clunking it down on the counter before pulling open the fridge. You take the glass bottle of Heinz and return to the dining room to set it down.  

"Pa, you need anything?" 

"Dammit, Marcy, leave me be. I told ya… patrol's been busy," he waves his hand at you dismissively, your mother's name giving you pause. Lee hesitates as he twists off the metal lid. 

"I… pa, I…" 

"Is this what you're gon' do? Pester me?" Your daddy slurs, "'cause what? She was only being nice, ya know? I was too, I couldn't say no–" 

"Jack," Lee reaches over and pats your father's arm with his knuckles, "ain't there a game on soon? That old radio still work?" 

Your father blinks drunkenly and scowls. He shakes his head and hiccups, swearing as he tries to drink from his empty can. He tosses it so it bounces off the edge of the table. 

"Course it does," he sneers. 

"You got twenty on the home team?" Lee goads, "I should lock ya up for gambling." 

"Ah shut up," your father glowers into a dark chuckle, "it's you that's gon pay me fifty anyhow. Can't lock a man up for winning." 

"Ah sure, Jack," Lee stands and claps your father's shoulder, "come on. We’re missing the first." 

You don’t miss how the sheriff shifts his grip and lurches your father out of his chair. He gives him a nudge toward the front room and glances back at you. You should be grateful for the redirection, yet the leer in his eyes only makes you nervous. You know he’ll be wanting thanks for that for a long time to come. 

“How about you bring some of that rum out with dessert?” Lee smirks as he follows your father towards the den. 

You don’t mention that you didn’t have anything planned for dessert. He doesn’t wait for you to say so. He chuckles and teases your dad again about the wager. 

You’ll have to come up with something. You might be able to spare enough for cream puffs. Those were always ma’s specialty. 

[brokenpieces-72]

Taskforce 141!ganster au x reader

Old Bed

This is part 5. Leave a comment if you want to be tagged in future posts. Navigation

The air is tense and well no shit. You weren’t expecting the hideout Kyle would take you to, would be the same one Simon and Johnny would be at. Before anyone could say anything else, Simon told you to follow him and take your shoes off first. You took off your shoes and set them aside before following him into a small hallway. Johnny kept an eye on you while you followed his boss. Gaz pat him on the back as he made his way to the couch.

“Set your stuff in the room there. Come back out, I’ll get you a drink.” He says walking away before you could reply. You step into the room, and find a small simple bedroom. Everything is neat, and you notice a photo on the nightstand next to the twin bed. You recognize it. It’s a photo of you and your father when you were younger. Was this your dad’s room at one point? There were a couple of times when your father didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning. You guessed maybe he stayed here for a bit. Something about the room, even with it being so plain made you feel safe. Like he was sitting with you on the bed, watching you going through your stuff. You pulled out a different hoodie, taking off your current one leaving it inside the jacket. You laid it on the bed, and looked at the mirror hanging on the wall by the small closet. Your arms were cover in bruises, that were easily visible with you in your tank top. The swelling in your eyes had gone down. Moving your arms, there was some pain but it was mainly just soreness. Nothing broken thankfully.

You come back out with your other hoodie and your beanie pulled down closer to your eye. You didn’t want to make a fuss. You find Kyle in a t-shirt and jeans, his jacket on the couch armrest. Simon notices you and jerks his head toward the group, gesturing you to join them. You notice Simon’s mask is over his nose and mouth, wearing lounge pants and long sleeved shirt. Soap takes another shot at the table, cursing under his breath, and leaning against his cue. Ripped jeans, and hoodie, making him less intimidating than he usually is. Not by much though. You step closer to the table but keep your hands in your pockets.

Ghost takes a shot himself, letting the silence remain and the tension grow. Gaz just stays on the couch watching you and Soap. Price told him shit was tense, but damn.

“You play?” Kyle asks, finally breaking the silence.

“Some. I’m okay at it.” You mumble just loud enough for him to understand.

“Liar.” Soap comments under his breath, taking a shot. Another sunk, only two other’s remaining and the 8. You go very quiet, letting the label sting. Kyle gives Soap a look of annoyance.

“He’s right. They’re better than okay.” Ghost says, leaning over and just missing the pocket making his ball bounce off into a worse position. “Better than Soap.”

“No less a liar.” You comment to yourself.

“You’re not a liar.” Soap says almost begrudgingly, walking around the table for a better angle. You look at him as he takes the shot and misses his ball.

“You sai-“

“I know what I said. You never lied though.” He says stepping back and standing next to you. “Secrets and lies… you never said you weren’ a cop. We knew your da and we guessed… just didna wanna be right.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say in response. He was right, but the guilt remained. You felt he was owed at least that much.

“Oi love birds, quit the sap. Y/n mind making this shit for me.” Ghost says offering the cue. You take it, trying to think of it as how it was when you first got close to Soap. When you lean down ready to take the shot though, you wince. You try to hide it by shifting your position but that makes it worse. When you take the shot, you get it in the pocket but something in your shoulder audibly pops making you flinch.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny asks.

“Nothing, just sore.” You say brushing it off.

“Some cops jumped em.” Kyle mentions, while Ghost sinks the 8 ball. Johnny says something in Scottish, you can’t quite make out.

“I’m fine.” You say. Johnny takes off your beanie without warning.

“Sit on the couch, I’ll get you some painkillers.” Johnny says leaning the cue against the table. He sounds like a disappointed older brother. You sit on the couch next to Gaz. It’s surprisingly comfortable, and you feel some cracking from your bones. Good cracking. You can’t explain it but once again, you feel safe and relaxed. More safe than you’ve felt in your own apartment by yourself. Johnny gives you the painkiller.

“Why they turn?” Johnny asks leaning back against the pool table standing in front of you.

“Told them I wanted to be left alone. Hadn’t shown up for sometime, hadn’t done much for a week. They decided that maybe kicking my ass would bring you guys running to help me. Prove my worth to you guys. Just kept telling them to fuck off. That wasn’t enough.” You explain, taking the painkiller.

“Give us names, we’ll slash their tires.” Kyle offers.

“Pfft, not as much fun.” Johnny adds. “I say we just do what they did to Y/N.”

“And puts Y/N at risk. Right now, the police think they’re on the side of the law. Gaz you mentioned Graves coming out of their apartment?” Ghost asks, folding his arms and looking at Gaz. Gaz nods. You didn’t love Graves but the last thing you wanted was for him to get caught with the wrong people. The 141 guys were the right people for you, but not for Graves.

“He’s my dad’s friend.” You say quickly. “Checks up on me. I report to him.”

“You tell him anything about us?” Johnny asks. He gives you a hard serious look.

“No. Nothing incriminating.” You say.

“What did he say when you came in with all the bruises?” Gaz asks.

“Asked me what happened… sounded like he was worried but I don’t know.” You explain. They’re silent now, trying to figure out if Graves had something to do with it. They all knew Graves, the kind of man he was. Graves wasn’t a shit cop, but he wasn’t exactly clean either. Your father and Graves were partners, and in the force that meant something. But that night…

“Just told me to text him when I got somewhere safe. Told him I would stay the night somewhere else.” You say breaking the hard silence. “I texted him earlier when we parked, location is turned off.”

“Good. You best rest up, it’ll help you recover.” Ghost says. You don’t argue and get up going to your room.

The remaining three are quiet for a moment, not making eye contact, not talking, and hardly even moving. The night your father died, Graves was there. For a while they thought Graves might have done his partner in, but if so, why was he so hard on you. Why put you in the same place your father had been, and so close to himself? Graves was a hard ass but not cruel. They could all attest to that. Even Soap who’d been shot by him. For now only time would tell, but with the cops being more persistent, and more sketchy shit going on behind closed doors, something was up.

Laswell called Price that same night. He had just gotten home from the bar, and sat down to relax with some football.

“Turn on the news.” She ordered him.

“Why?” He asked, getting the remote anyways. When he turned on the tv his question was answered.

“No fucking way…” he muttered into the phone.

“We’ve got a big problem John.” Laswell comments watching the same news broadcast.

“Yeah, well… no shit.” Price replies.

The tv announced the return of the successful businessman and new chief police commissioner:

Vladimir Makarov.

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz

[nikoniclove]

Whole List of "Ace in the Hole" Prompts Pt 1

For anyone who is interested in reading the WHOLE MASSIVE list of prompts people have sent in via private messages, AO3, or tumblr, here it is broken into numerous posts because it's so long.

Multi-Chapter Fics

story idea: every chapter is a different date that the girls go on wether that’s as a pair or a three and it’s from the start of there relationship to where ever it goes (Tumblr yasmineillustration)

a cheating scare with ace. where hotch/someone else needs ace to help out with a top secret case/something private, and ace doesn't tell emily and JJ because it isn't her secret to share (whatever it is can be up to you). it ends up taking most of her time and ends up being talked about a lot in dms and stuff, so she puts up a password, and sneaks out at night to talk about it, and comes home late/in the early hours of the morning. and emily and JJ just start overthinking it and yell at ace (who is obviously denying cheating because she isn't) and it blows into a proper argument and ace walks out/they take like a temporary break, and it feeds into their work lives. and because emily and JJ are so convinced that ace was cheating, they make little rude comments/shut her out completely. then they find out and it ends with a little fluff with lots and lots and lots of groveling and making it up to ace (Tumblr anon)

random idea for a future fic possibly that just came to mind: based on the grey's anatomy episode arc of the ferry crash (3x16-17) and meredith in the water. would love to see a similar take to ace in meredith's position. some sort of catastrophic bau case and everyone is busy and tending to their assigned areas. (in the episode meredith is accidentally kicked into water trying to help someone, gets caught and later admits she stopped fighting to get free) JJ notices Ace isn't around when they round up to leave and they frantically look around. When they see something of hers near a body of water Emily takes off without a second thought. Then it's very touch and go in the hospital as they need to get her body temp up. Maybe a sweet moment of JJ and Emily laying with her on the hospital bed to give her their body warmth. I saw another comment presenting an idea of memory loss so maybe to build on that, when Ace eventually wakes up- she mentally is back when she first joined the team. She remembers Emily and JJ but only as coworkers pre sleeping together. Only lasting a few hours to a few days but when she starts to regain memories the first thing can be calling Emily "Emmy" and seeking JJ's touch in a hug. This of course seems like a hugeee story so if it speaks to you in anyway, please just take the little bits desired. (Ssskeptical)

Existing Story Updates

Let Loose: drunken sex ch 2

When Desperation Strikes: Emily reacts to Ch 1 and how she gets back at JJ and Ace for that (EmilyJenniferJareauPrentiss)

Kisses prompt list

Kisses: From 3 perspectives. Emily, JJ and Ace being from time to time insecure about their scars and every time that happens one or two of them are there to comfort the third of them. Like kissing the scars and the insecurities away. (Tumblr lenolia03)

Kisses: You know when you’re squeezing someone trying to give them smooshy cheek kisses and they’re all squirmy and embarrassed and laughing so hard? Yeah, can we have some of those kisses - maybe with Henry? (Nerdy_mama)

Aftercare Requirements Epilogue: whether JJ and Ace, together, could (after a scene) give dom Emily the kind of aftercare that she gives them - the aftercare that she never received? (SSAScorpSik)

first time Emily acquiesced and let JJ dom her (SSAScorpSik)

A Need for Punishment:  would love to see Ace talk to Emily and JJ about her having wanted to ask for a belt (thatonesritersstuff)

I’d love to see Emily and Ace get into an argument and instead of autopiloting to Em, JJ takes Ace’s side and it plays out that way. Especially since every time Ace is upset with one of them it becomes both of them, it’d be interesting to see the dynamic change (slowburnsapphic)

Emily is groveling to make up for the botched date (Ao3 Guest)

Could you maybe add on about scars? I remember in one of the stories (I believe it was in when past meets the present) JJ doesn’t like her scars being focused on, can you maybe write more about that? Either it being an insecurity or bringing up bad memories and her not wanting to talk about it but either just Ace or Ace and Emily push and wants to focus on it so JJ can heal in some way (Sam0214)

One Shots

JJ fighting hand to hand and being injured like s7 e15 end scene

Subdrop for JJ (Gay_4_women)

JJ subdrop, maybe she Em type them both but then Ace gets the focus of the aftercare (kind of like the reverse scenario of the ” Competing Sub Drops” chapter in difference kinds of firsts pt 1). and because JJ rarely even finds a subspace, let alone a drop, the angstier the better. Maybe it’s the first time she’s ever dropped at all. (Agentquakingskye)

Play on the therapy case where the unsub kills patients in exposure therapy based on patient’s worst fears

Ace’s darkness has been heavier than usual; one morning when she’s feeling good, she goes for a morning run and leaves a love note for emily and jj, but them being protective girlfriends means they jump to the worst case scenario. They freak out because ace accidentally forgot her phone in the apartment and is gone for like 2 hours (Tumblr anon)

Jealous/ posessive Ace. Maybe Emily has a man from her past that they have to work alongside of during a case and it brings something out in Ace/JJ that leads Ace comfortable enough to top Emily out of possessive jealousy (Tumblr anon)

Sergio is crossed the rainbow bridge or is at least getting up there in age and the older pair see how much the goats help so they go to a rescue to adopt a cat/dog for Ace that becomes basically an anxiety service animal without the label to help ground her if the two ever have to be on another long case without Ace. (Ravenslumber)

old friend or acquaintance comes back in Ace’s life and Emily and JJ immediately clock that person has feelings for Ace. Ace gets upset with their jealousy, they fight, but it turns out Emily and JJ were right (Tumblr Anon)

maybe a jealous JJ/Emily interfere with Ace and a friend, they argue about if JJ and Emily trust Ace, which sends Ace on a spiral on if she thinks it possible for their relationship to work. Maybe set a little earlier on in their relationship when Ace isn’t feeling as solid in the trio. (Tumblr anon)

‘Guess’ with billie eilish and charlii xcx as a little chapter inspiration (Tumblr fallingsleepingdreaming)

7x23 for the first time and was wondering if we could maybe get a rewrite of it but instead of will being the one in danger its ace and jj and emily are just needing to be held back and everything (Tumblr anon)

Times which Ace has surprised Emily & JJ in non-sexual contexts? (Tumblr anon)