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evilminji · 8 months ago

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You know what seriously doesn't get played with enough?

In the grand, shared, doll set of Danny Phantom?

The cultural alienation.

Is Danny up to date on Human Memes? Did he see that movie? Hear about that celebrity drama? He lives here, amongst us, WITH us. But? Feels... half out of the loop.

And? He can't SHARE his passions with us.

Is he REALLY gonna show his new lecture buddy that hot new Kryptonian Sci-fi series he picked up from the Zone's nearest mega market bookstore? Invite a neighbor over for some sparkling ectoplasm laced soda and a binge of this cool Alien animated film from a long dead planet's artist guild? They're trying new mediums, apparently! Danny thinks it's pretty cool, he hopes they make more.

Oh, but maybe he can talk about games!

Except he switched to the technologically far more advanced Z-Held, years ago. They have literally billions of billions of options, since every game maker in their region of the Zone designs for it. Has for millennia.

....music?

Ghost speak either creeps people out or actually hurts to hear, if they listen too long. And "normal" music... feels so FLAT. Emotionless. Yeah, he'll LISTEN... smile and agree it sound nice. But it's... it's so bland? Less then bland.

He can't even share his food! It's a one way trip to ER! If not the morgue. Half his spices are FROM the Zone now. And Zone plants? Heeeeeella poisonous to humans. Tasty af to HIM, but... yeah. No sharing.

So like... what does that LEAVE him? Dance? Hobbies? Sam n Tucker he can share his REAL interests with, but... they went to different colleges. And protecting people isn't a hobby. It's more of a Gotta, you know? He ALSO can't join any space related clubs because now he knows WAY too much about Space.

Like "above civilian clearance, no one on this planet should know that" a lot.

He gets distracted. Too excited. He KNOWS himself.

He would totally ramble on about Space.

He's a Fenton, man. It's genetic.

So... he's lonely. Adrift. A sad, sad, semi-feral noodle of a man. And you know who would never let that stand? Who also wants to know what THE FUCK he's listen too, because it's both giving him a headache and creeping him out? Kon.

This dude reminds him of Tim. Complete with the feral energy and fluffy hair. *snaps pick* lol, bro, is you. ANYWAY, this guy? Apparently the source of the Kent family splitting migraines. That sound has been KILLING them. They need to get this guy better headphones. Aliens gotta stick together, you know? Time to go make friends.

*floats over in his shades n leather jacket* Sup~!

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #minji's writing #halfa out of the loop au

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amirasainz · 5 days ago

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Can you do reader is the youngest of the drivers and practically everyone’s baby

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

F1's Darling

The paddock was alive with the hum of cameras, the chatter of mechanics, and the occasional roar of engines. At the center of it all stood Y/n Y/l/n, the 18-year-old phenomenon who had taken Formula 1 by storm. As Red Bull's youngest ever female driver, she wasn’t just talented—she was adored. A natural behind the wheel, witty in interviews, and effortlessly charming, Y/n had an uncanny ability to bring out a protective streak in everyone around her.

"Y/n!" A familiar voice called out as she stepped out of her garage after a gruelling practice session. She turned to see Carlos walking toward her, a warm smile on his face and a sandwich in hand.

"You need to eat," he said in his accented English, offering her the snack.

Y/n chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Carlos, you know I have a team that feeds me, right?"

"Yes, but they don’t feed you properly," he countered, waving the sandwich in front of her. "Eat. Now."

Laughing, she accepted it. "Thanks, dad."

Carlos grinned. "Don’t let Fernando hear that."

---

Later that evening, Y/n found herself wandering through a shopping district with Charles. The Monegasque driver had insisted on treating her after seeing how exhausted she looked post-qualifying.

"Y/n, this will look amazing on you," Charles said, holding up a sleek leather jacket.

"Charles, I can’t afford half the stuff you’re picking," she protested, though she couldn’t help but admire the jacket.

He gave her a mock-serious look. "Did I ask if you could afford it? You’re not paying. That’s the rule."

"You spoil me too much," she said, blushing as he led her to the counter.

---

Race day arrived with its usual chaos. As Y/n climbed out of her car after a gruelling 60 laps, Lewis was already waiting by her garage. He had a towel in hand, which he draped over her shoulders before handing her a bottle of water.

"You okay, kid?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Y/n nodded, her breathing still heavy. "Yeah, just... tired."

Lewis crouched slightly so they were eye level. "You did good out there. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."

"Of course," he said, patting her shoulder. "Now go rest."

---

The post-race press conference was brutal, as always. A journalist attempted to insinuate that Y/n's lack of experience cost Red Bull the race. Before she could respond, Max cut in sharply.

"Excuse me, but that’s completely out of line," Max said, his voice cold. "Y/n drove exceptionally today. She doesn’t deserve this kind of question."

Y/n glanced at Max gratefully, her nerves easing. After the conference, he pulled her aside.

"Don’t let them get to you," he said, his blue eyes serious. "You’re one of the best drivers here. Don’t forget that."

---

One afternoon, while sitting in the paddock, Y/n struggled with a stubborn bottle of water. She twisted and twisted, her frustration growing by the second.

Before she could ask for help, Fernando appeared out of nowhere, took the bottle from her hands, opened it effortlessly, and handed it back without a word.

"Thanks, Fernando," she said, startled but grateful.

He gave her a small nod before walking off, leaving her to chuckle at his understated kindness.

---

Lando was the team's unofficial mood-maker, and Y/n was often his favorite target.

"Knock, knock," he said one morning, leaning into her motorhome.

"Who’s there?" she asked, already grinning.

"Orange," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Orange who?"

"Orange you glad you have me to brighten your day?" he said, bursting into laughter.

Y/n groaned. "That’s terrible, even for you."

"But you’re smiling," he pointed out, grinning.

---

During a rare off weekend, George invited Y/n over to his place in Monaco. Over tea, he patiently explained racing lines and strategies that could help her in the upcoming season.

"You’ve got the speed," he said, gesturing at a diagram on his tablet. "Now it’s just about perfecting your consistency."

"Thanks, George," she said, scribbling notes in her notebook. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"Learn slower," he teased, earning a laugh from her.

---

The camaraderie wasn’t lost on the fans or the media. They loved seeing how the drivers rallied around Y/n, treating her like their collective little sister. It wasn’t unusual to see clips of Lewis helping her out of a car, Carlos feeding her snacks, or Max standing up for her during interviews.

Y/n adored her team, but it was the broader F1 family that truly made her journey special. They didn’t just see her as a driver; they saw her as their driver.

"Y/n," Max called one evening as they were leaving the track. "You coming to dinner with us?"

"Depends," she said with a playful smile. "Is Carlos bringing food?"

"Always," Carlos replied from nearby, making her laugh.

As they walked off together, Y/n couldn’t help but feel grateful. F1 was a tough world, but with her self-appointed paddock family by her side, she knew she could handle anything.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #fernando alonso x reader #lando norris x reader #george russell x reader

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vivwritesfics · 1 month ago

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The Devil Dances With A Smile

Chapter One

He can't kill you. He can't bring himself to lay a hand on you. So, he falls for you instead (its a shame his employer really wants you dead)

Hitman!Max x reader

Chapter Two

His class wasn't listening, he could tell that much as he drew things onto the whiteboard. He ignored it, kept writing. But then the giggles started up.

It was a new class, a bunch of eleven year old experiencing their first year of high school. For the first week, they had been quiet. But now they were a month in. The trouble makers had learnt how to make their peers laugh and it was normally at his expense.

They hadn't yet seen their teacher, a professor, at that, angry. He'd gotten annoyed, had snapped a pen under his desk to help keep his cool, but had never gotten angry with his year sevens.

"Eliza, James!" He snapped, and the two fell quiet. He wasn't angry, he just needed the two of them to know better than to test him. Not today. Not after how rough his other job had been.

"Sorry Professor Verstappen," the two of them said in unison. The entire class fell silent when the two of them did, and Max got on with his lesson.

Max rubbed his eyes as his lesson came to an end and his class handed in their workbooks. He shouted a reminder about homework, but their chatter was too loud to hear it.

When the door fell shut and Max put his head in his hands. Just a few minutes of rest, that was all he needed. He let his eyes fall shut.

Even in rests that only lasted a minute, Max dreamt the same thing. The young man with the lion tattoo on his hand, begging for his life at the end of his gun. It didn't matter what he said, Max always pulled the trigger.

A knock at his door pulled him out of his dream, pulled him back into his day job. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked towards his classroom door.

The history teacher stared at Max for a minute. No, not stared. He'd asked him a question and Max had just ignored it. "Huh?" He asked, a yawn leaving a lips.

"I asked if you were okay," Charles said, his worried expression softening.

Max gave a nod. He had always liked Charles, even when they were academic rivals through secondary school. But then university came and they went their separate ways. Max went off to study geography and Charles went to off to do history. They never thought they'd be reunited as colleagues. "Just tired, that's all," he admitted.

Now, don't get it wrong, Max loved teaching. Sculpting young minds, helping them pave their way forward in life. But teaching was only part of what he did.

Most teachers went home and marked homework. Max did that too, for maybe an hour. And then it was dinner while the cats ate. Tonight he had some shitty, healthy pizza and the cats had their gourmet food.

But then his night shift began.

He didn't look like a contract killer. He didn't wear all black, didn't have a long coat with weapons beneath. No, he looked like a normal guy. He wore skinny jeans and a black leather jacket.

But their was a reason people called on The Lion. He didn't exactly need a weapon to kill anyone. He was quick, clean, and didn't ask any questions.

Christian met him in the same place each time. Max entered the office in the warehouse full of old cars, and Christian slipped the manila folder across the desk.

There was a usual routine to this. Normally Max pulled out the paper in the folder, read the information on his target. He learnt all he needed to know about his target, grabbed the weapon he thought would be best, and he set off.

But not this time.

Pulling the information from the folder, he turned the paper towards Christian. "What the fuck is this?" He asked.

On the folder was a girl in a cafe. She had an apron around her waist and a tray of empty glasses in her hands. No criminal convictions listed, no possible crimes.

No reason for Max to take her out.

"Something about inheritance," said Christian, his voice nonchalant. He didn't care what happened to the target, as long as they ended up dead by the end of it. Christian was just there to fill his coffers.

Max looked at the picture again. She was pretty, he couldn't deny that. She was smiling in the picture, seemingly making jokes with somebody the picture hadn't captured. His usual targets were criminals that had made threats against people. Those people wanted the criminal taken out before they made good on those threats. That was where Max came in. He was the one that took them out.

His other type of target was rich assholes. The kind that exploited people for money, the kind who's wealth would be better distributed to the very people they were exploiting. They weren't easy jobs, killing someone and changing their will, and they didn't get them often, but they were Max's favourite. The tougher the better.

"Christian."

Christian groaned as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Do you want to stand around and argue, or do you want to get paid?"

The Lion was on the prowl. No weapons, Max wouldn't need them for her. He climbed into his car and looked at the address of the café. A café by the train station, open for twenty-four hours out of the day. Two and a half star rating, the only good thing about the café being the 'pretty, kind waitress'.

Once the night was up, the reviews would plummet.

Max drove. A waitress at a shitty, twenty-four hour café. She couldn't be worth as much as Christian was saying she was. And, if she was worth that much, she couldn't have known.

Parking outside of the train station, Max looked over at the café. It was the same angle the picture was taken from, he recognised as he looked down at her picture in his folder. She was grinning in that picture and she was grinning now as she cleared away somebody's plates.

He couldn't do this.

***

You didn't love your job. How could you when this was your job? But you still completed it with a smile. Making coffees and running food out to people. Clearing plates and glasses, and wiping over their tables.

It wasn't forever, you told yourself as you took the plates back into the kitchen. "Desserts for table sixteen," You called to the boys in the kitchen. Jimmy saluted you as you scraped the plates into the food waste bin. It was just you, Jimmy and Frank this late at night. Jimmy and Frank were in the kitchen, while you worked the floor.

While Jimmy made the desserts, you backed out of the kitchen and surveyed the few tables you had in. Somebody was at the counter. "Sorry," you said as you rushed past him. You logged into your till and looked at him. The handsome man with the freckle on his lip. "What can I get for you?" You asked, finger poised over the buttons.

For a moment, he said nothing. It was nearly one in the morning, and he wasn't being an easy customer. He looked behind you, at the drinks you had on offer. He looked at the small version of the menu on the board behind your head.

"How about some coffee?" You tried, holding up a mug.

He gave a nod. "A coffee, please," he said and you got to work. Making coffee's was the easiest part of your day. Steaming the milk and pouring it in with the shot of coffee, creating a leaf in latte art at the end. You passed over the coffee and put it through the till.

The bell rang, signalling the desserts were ready, but you didn't run to it. Not while the handsome man in the skinny jeans and leather jacket was still paying. His phone chimed as the payment went through and he grabbed his coffee, taking a seat on one of the round tables by the counter.

You ran to answer the bell, to run the apple pies over to table sixteen, and returned to the counter, cleaning the coffee machine and the jug you used to clean your milk.

Eyes were on you as you worked. You didn't mind it too much, it happened more than you cared to admit. Teenagers that should have been in bed, coming into the café to stare at you as you served them black coffee. You let them sit in the café, since it was better than them roaming the streets.

As you cleaned the counter, you looked at the little round table opposite. Looked at the man with the freckle on his lip. He was pretty, pretty blue eyes, pretty full lips. He was well put together, better than most of the people you saw something through your door at this time in the morning. "What brings you here at this time in the morning?" You asked as you sprayed sanitiser on the counter.

The handsome man with the freckle on his lip looked around. "I'm probably here for the same reason anybody else is," he said and sipped his coffee.

You couldn't help but look around at everybody else in the café. Those getting home late from work, waking themselves up before they headed home to their families. People on break from working in the middle of the night, coming in for a coffee to wake themselves up. People that just wanted shelter, that you had undercharged for a coffee.

The man in front of you didn't seem like that.

Your eyes returned to him. You stared at him, stared at what he was wearing, at the way he was holding his cup. He didn't look on break from work, desperate for a fix of caffeine. He didn't look ready to go home, waking himself up to go and deal with the kids.

You hummed and grabbed a pastry from the counter. "Here," you said and placed it in front of him.

He looked up, brows furrowed as he continued to smile at you. "What's this for?" He asked and pulled the little, white plate towards himself.

You shrugged your shoulders. You couldn't very well tell him that you wanted to figure him out, that you gave him the pastry to keep him around.

Going back to work, you could feel his eyes on you as you cleared away plates and glasses and cleaned tables. You caught his eye several times as you ran plates back into the kitchen.

When you got him his second cup of coffee, he finally introduced himself. "I'm Max," he said and pushed his empty cup towards you.

"It's lovely to meet you, Max," you said, keeping your tone polite. You introduced yourself, gave him the name that he could have read from your name tag.

At the end of your shift, Max was still sitting there. Your conversation had been light through the evening, neither of you learning very much about each other. Just enough to keep you thinking about him as you got changed.

The morning crowd were walking in as you walked out. Max was still at your table. Part of you wanted to stop, wanted to tell him how you hoped to see him again another time.

But Max stood. He put his empty mug at the end of his table. "Can I walk you to your car?" He offered, taking long strides to catch up with you.

You gave him a smile. "You can walk me to the bus stop, if you'd like," you said and he answered you with a nod.

The two of you kept talking, the topics light as he walked you to the bus stop just a little way down the street. Even at the bus stop, Max stayed talking to you until your bus pulled up.

"I'll see you around," Max said as you stepped onto the bus.

Waving, you paid for your ticket and found yourself a seat.

You should be dead, he couldn't help but think as he walked away. Max ignored his buzzing phone as he walked back to his car.

Christian was going to have his head, he knew as he started heading back to his apartment.

He couldn't kill you, he was sure of that now.

a/n we're starting over with taglists. no permanent one. comment if you wanna be added for the series

taglist: @nurse-floyd @biancathecool

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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thomsonsharon347 · 5 months ago

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How a Leather Jacket Should Fit

VISIT:

If you wish to know how a leather jacket should fit, then here are some guidelines. Keep on reading to know more!

#Bulk Winter Coats #Coat Makers #Coats Manufacturer #Guidelines On How Leather Jacket Should Fit #How A Leather Jacket Should Fit #Leather Clothing Manufacturers #Leather Jacket Maker #Leather Jacket Manufacturer

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jacketssupplier · 9 months ago

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Why Invest in a Leather Jacket?

There are many benefits to wearing a leather jacket. To know about them, keep reading!

Visit: https://www.merchantcircle.com/blogs/oasis-jackets-wholesale-jackets-north-hollywood-ca/2024/3/Why-Invest-in-a-Leather-Jacket-/2682089

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armandsfangs · 2 months ago

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Imagine Armand scrolling YouTube and getting recommended Lestat's newest music video. He clicks - not because he likes Lestat's music, of course not, he just wants to leave hate comments with his 7936 burner accounts obviously - and halfway through being entranced by Lestat's voice he's surprised to see Daniel appear in the music video, all pretty green eyes in a grandpa cardigan, grinning as he's pulled into Lestat's arms

Lestat is singing some vulgar lyrics but Armand isn't even hearing him anymore, all he's seeing is Daniel making direct eye contact with the camera as he tangles his fingers in Lestat's hair and tilts his head to expose his neck -

The beat drops. Lestat bites down. The glittery music video flashes in time to the rhythm. Daniel, now in his leather jacket and a goddamn The Vampire Lestat branded gold chain, still staring at the camera, staring at Armand, lets his eyes shift to blazing orange, bares his fangs roguishly, and Lestat pulls off his neck with the most obscene blood splatter, licking his lips -

The iPad shatters in Armand's grip. Five minutes later, he's on a plane to Lestat's tour location with murder in his heart

And that's how Daniel lures out his deadbeat maker

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #devil's minion #armandaniel #daniel molloy #armand #lestat de lioncourt #lesmand #danstat #amc iwtv

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the-thing-inside-your-closet · 4 months ago

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The Colosseum

I started writing this and have no idea how to finish it or where to take it from here. I had an idea but lost it halfway through 😅

Valerie had had it with all of the ghosts in Amity. She could hardly sleep, was missing schools as a result because she was either too exhausted to stay awake long enough in class, or another ghost attack was forcing her to miss the entire period to go deal with that day’s trouble maker. Almost every part of her body hurt in one way or another. Bruises that should have faded by now but haven’t because every day she was out collecting more. She couldn’t blame Phantom either. He seemed just as tired and beat up as she was even with his healing factor.

With the number of ghost attacks having nearly tripled in frequency, they’d both come to the mutual decision that working together would be the best course of action to deal with the constant onslaught. And reluctantly, Val had to admit that Phantom might not be as bad she first assumed. She hadn’t anticipated actually getting along with the ghost as well as she had been. Much less the realisation that they could almost be considered…fiends now. Maybe. She refused to laugh at his god awful puns though, he didn’t need anymore encouragement.

But even with Phantom’s help, she was so tired. So, so, so very tired. And so one could say Valerie was well within her rights to say that this situation, was just more bullshit she didn’t need right now.

She had been trying to cram for the next upcoming test when there was a sudden flash of light, so bright it was blinding and she had to shield her eyes with her arms from the fear that this light might burn through her eyelids. Her body tingled, and she felt something wash over her. When the light subsided, just as quickly as it had appeared, she slowly opened her eyes.

“Where the hell am I?”

She was in a colosseum. The stone of the structure was a deep purple with intricate glimmering gold details carved into the walls and pilasters. There was a magic in the air that felt different to the sensation she would get in the Ghost Zone. The sky above was pitch black with more stars than Val had ever seen visible in Amity, and two moons.

So, not Earth then, she concluded.

“Hey Red, where are we?” Valerie spun around to see Phantom floating over to her, his eyes scanning the area around them. Then Val looked down at herself to see that she was in her Red Huntress suit. She couldn’t remember putting it on. Maybe that was what the full body sensation from earlier was about.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Val checked herself over, making sure she had all of her weapons on her should she need them. When she was satisfied she did, she put her hands on her hips and let her gaze wander over the arena.

“I don’t think we’re on Earth anymore,” Phantom muttered as he took in the sky above them. For a split second Val swore she saw his freckles glow a soft green as he was taking in the stars above them.

“We should start looking for a way out of here, or at least figure where here is,” Valerie had just turned to start walking when the ground rumbled and shook, “What-”

Another blinding flash of light appeared behind them. And once again, it had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

“What the hell was that?” A new voice asked from behind them.

Val and Phantom turned in unison to stare at the group in front of them. All of them were dressed in some sort of hero ensemble. It seemed the voice had come from a man donning a brown leather jacket over an armoured suit with a red bat symbol across his chest, an assortment of guns and other weaponry strapped to his body, and most notably a red helmet. He and the rest of his group seemed to be taking in their surroundings the same way Val and Phantom.

“Who are you? Were you the ones who summoned us?” Came a new voice, from a young man (or was he a teenager?) dressed in black leggings with a red tunic, utility belt, and a chest harness connecting to the symbol on the centre, a black cowl and a cape. In his hands was a bo staff. He and the others had all dropped into combat ready stances the moment they became aware that they weren’t the only people in the colosseum.

And from here I couldn’t figure out how to continue

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