#let my demon driver win again

[lululovesprongs]

idc i’ll always love max bc i too am a perfectionist who seethes and rages when someone dares to beat me at something bc anything less than winning is a failure in my eyes 😜✌️✌️

[cheftsunoda]

grid kids or cupids?— mv1

smau + written blurbs

max verstappen x !driver reader

2025 rookies x !platonic driver reader

your ex cheated. you dumped him. simple, clean, no tears—just a block, a race win, and an innocent instagram post. you are over it. but your rookies? not so much.

somehow, they’ve formed a secret matchmaking club and are now trying to set you up with half the grid. you know. max knows. (he’s your very smitten, very amused boyfriend.) but neither of you say a word.

because watching them try? is way too entertaining.

fc : luvstruck on ig (love a tattooed baddie as a face claim)

original request is here.

(a/n) : this was so much fun for me. i hope you all enjoy! love youuuu

—

yourusername

liked by kimi.antonelli, olliebearman, isackhadjar and 4,550,700 others.

yourusername : his loss.

—

view 285,003 other comments.

username000 : did she finally leave that ugly demonic man?????

liked by yourusername

↳ username1 : oh thank god. we got our baddie back🙏���

liked by yourusername

yourbff : man just couldn’t handle having a baddie. the funny thing is he can’t watch the race without seeing your name or face 😏

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : he shall never know peace.

liked by yourbff

yoursister : i can hear the streets callin’🧏‍♀️

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : call me pluto cuz im alr in them

liked by yoursister

↳ yoursister : where are your children? its rare i make it here before they do.

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : oh they will be here within like the next 10 seconds

liked by yoursister

↳ olliebearman : heyyyy so what’s his address? so i can send a hitman.

liked by yoursister, yourbff and yourusername

isackhadjar : if i see that man IT IS ON SIGHT.

liked by yourusername

lando : if i were him id never leave the house ever again, not just because of the 6 angry children at my door but just out of sheer embarrassment from what i fumbled.

liked by yourusername

kimi.antonelli : im small but i can bite ankles. he is a dead man. im going to kill him

liked by yourusername

gabrielbortoleto_ : yn i cannot handle these vague captions. pls answer the group chat. im spiraling and about to hire someone to do horrible things.

liked by yourusername

↳ isackhadjar : i feel sick to my stomach.

liked by yourusername

↳ olliebearman : i just threw up

liked by yourusername

↳ kimi.antonelli : i am pacing

liked by yourusername

↳ jackdoohan : just threw my phone across the room

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : guys, im fine. truly. it was for the best. i will call you all later!

↳ kimi.antonelli : yn did he hurt you?? i destroy his entire bloodline

↳ isackhadjar : stop lying. you are ignoring our texts. you never do.

↳ olliebearman : ok well he hurt you so we will just find him and kill him. its all taken care of

↳ gabrielbortoleto_ : cannot believe you are just ghosting your six emotionally unstable children.

username07 : the rookies falling apart in the comments while yn is unfazed is taking me OUT.

alex_albon : he peaked in high school and drives a toyota 💀 and now fumbled an f1 driver…him being him is punishment enough

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : i can’t with you 💀

oscarpiastri : absolutely no clue what happened but i instantly take your side. he is a dick.

liked by yourusername

alexandrasaintmleux : he fumbled so i could have you😇

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : mmm yes gimme (making grabby hands at you)

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

olliebearman : yn we are coming over

↳ kimi.antonelli : you let us in or we break the door down

↳ yourusername : im sure that breaking and entering is already somewhere on oliver’s crime list so lets not add to it. come on over kids.

↳ gabrielbortoleto_ : YAYYYYYYYY

↳ jackdoohan : on my way! (already outside of your apartment)

↳ isackhadjar : i have been sitting in the hallway since this was posted.

↳ yourusername : get in here🙄

username15 : these kids love their grid mum 🤧

—

flashback

You hadn’t expected the night to end in a breakup. But maybe you should’ve.

It started with his phone—left unlocked, screen facing up, buzzing like a warning. You hadn’t meant to look. But you did. A message preview lit up like a punch to the chest.

last night was the best;) miss you already xx

You didn’t open it. You didn’t need to. The way your stomach dropped told you everything you weren’t ready to admit.

You sat there for a few seconds, staring at the screen. His voice filtered in from the bathroom—some off-key humming, clueless and careless. It made you feel numb. Or maybe free. You weren’t sure which yet.

When he walked back in, grinning like he still had you, you held the phone up.

“You should really be more careful with your passwords,” you said calmly.

His expression dropped. “Babe, it’s not what it looks like—”

“It looks like you’re sleeping with someone who isn’t me.”

You didn’t yell. Didn’t cry. Didn’t even let him finish his half-assed explanation. You just grabbed your heels, your pride, and your keys, and walked out the door like it owed you nothing.

You texted your girls on the way out.

club. now. i finally left the bum.

By midnight, you were wrapped in black mesh and revenge-red lipstick.

The bass vibrated through your bones, and the margarita in your hand burned in the best way. Your friends were already dancing like the world was ending, and for the first time in months, you felt alive.

And then you saw him. Max.

Standing at the bar with a half-finished drink and that usual unreadable expression—until he looked up and saw you.

His eyes flicked over you once, slow and deliberate, before his lips curled into the smallest smirk. He lifted his drink in silent acknowledgment, and you raised your brow like, Don’t test me. But he didn’t walk away.

No, he walked toward you—unhurried, completely sure of himself, like he’d been waiting for you to show up all night.

“You good?” he asked, leaning in just enough to be heard over the music.

You shrugged, grinning. “Better than ever.”

He studied you for a second longer. “You look free. Like you finally let go of that one thing that was dragging you down.”

You met his gaze head-on. “Maybe I did. But I don’t regret it.”

Something about your voice—clear, certain, maybe a little dangerous—made him nod slowly. Like he knew that version of you. Like he’d met her before in himself.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just offered his hand. “Come dance with me.”

And God help you, you said yes. One song bled into another, and suddenly you were dancing like your skin was on fire, like the world couldn’t touch you anymore. Max wasn’t just keeping up—he matched you. Step for step, stare for stare, like the two of you spoke the same language in a rhythm only you could hear.

You didn’t remember leaning in. You didn’t remember whose hand touched whose waist first.

But you do remember the way his lips brushed yours, soft and warm and slow at first—like he was asking a question. And how you answered with a kiss that tasted like tequila and freedom.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, Max just looked at you with that same amused smirk and said, “Definitely his loss.”

You laughed. You weren’t just fine. You were starting over.

—

The sunlight hit your face before the memory did. Warm. Gentle. Relentless.

You blinked a few times, groggy and still wrapped in that heavy limbed softness that comes from too many drinks and not enough regrets. The room smelled faintly of something distinctly Max—clean, expensive, and just a little smug.

You rolled over. He was already awake.

Lying there, one arm folded behind his head, chest bare, the sheets dangerously low on his hips. His other hand held his phone, which he casually tossed aside when he noticed you looking.

“Morning,” he said, voice rough, sleepy.

You groaned into the pillow. “Tell me we didn’t do something stupid.”

Max tilted his head. “Define stupid.”

Your eyes narrowed. He smiled.

“We danced,” he said. “You kissed me. Twice. And then you tried to start a debate about tire compounds in the elevator.”

You winced. “Sounds like me.”

He laughed under his breath, that low rumble sending a shiver down your spine.

“But no,” he added, softer this time. “You were upset. So I brought you back here. You changed into my shirt, stole all the covers, and fell asleep with your face in my shoulder.”

You blinked. “I didn’t kiss you again?”

He hesitated. “You almost did. Then you said something about how ‘this doesn’t count when you’re drunk’ and knocked out cold.”

You groaned again. “God. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, without missing a beat. “It was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

You looked over at him, eyes soft. “You sure? I was kind of a mess.”

Max shrugged. “You were real. That’s what I want to see.”

For a second, the air stilled between you. No jokes. No tension. Just quiet understanding. You’d kissed him the night before thinking it was a one time thing—sparked by adrenaline, tequila, and heartbreak. But lying here now, in his bed, wearing his shirt and breathing in his space.

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. “So… breakfast?”

You blinked. “You’re offering to feed me now?”

“I’m offering to bribe you with pancakes so you don’t ghost me later.”

You smirked, climbing out of bed and grabbing your phone.

“I don’t ghost,” you said, pausing by the door. “But fair warning—once I post a thirst trap, our children are going to lose their minds.”

Max grinned, already reaching for his shirt. “Perfect. Let them panic.”

And as you headed to the bathroom, still wearing nothing but his t-shirt and a smirk, you realized something—You really, really didn’t miss your ex.

—

present day

It’s been a few weeks since that night. Since tequila and heartbreak and Max Verstappen.

You’ve seen him a few times since then—quiet dinners in hotel rooms, lingering handholds between debriefs, shared glances across the paddock that made your stomach flip like a rookie on their debut lap. It’s easy, exciting, safe in the strangest way. No pressure, no labels.

And somehow, for once, no noise. Just the two of you, figuring it out behind closed doors. Which is exactly why you should’ve known that post would send the entire grid into DEFCON 1. Because you barely have time to finish brushing your teeth when it sounds like your whole front door is being broken down.

You freeze, toothbrush halfway to your mouth. Then—

DING DING DING DING.

“YN OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW.”

You peek through the peephole. And there they are. All six of them. Kimi. Ollie. Isack. Jack. Franco. Gabriel.

Every last one of them in complete disarray. Jack’s hair is still wet. Gabriel’s holding a box of oreo’s, one stuffed into his mouth. Franco has absolutely no shoes on.

You blink. “Good morning?”

“You can’t just post that and disappear,” Ollie blurts.

“Disrespectful,” Franco agrees. “Honestly rude.”

“You owe us answers,” Jack adds, pushing inside like this is a crime scene. “Did he cheat? Did you dump him? Do I need to start training for violence?”

“I’m already in shape for violence,” Isack mutters.

“I brought Oreo’s,” Gabriel says, holding them up as a gift of peace.

Kimi just crosses his arms and stares you down. “What happened.”

You close the door behind them and sigh.

“Nothing crazy,” you say, voice steady. “I found out he wasn’t who I thought he was. So I ended it.”

You head to the kitchen and start making coffee. Like this isn’t the opening scene of a Netflix special where the 2025 F1 Rookies begin a manhunt.

“But… are you okay?” Franco asks gently.

You turn and smile. “Honestly? I’m great. It’s probably the healthiest decision I’ve made in years.”

Kimi leans against the counter. “You don’t have to be fine right now, you know.”

You sip your coffee and shrug. “I am fine. Genuinely. I don’t miss him. There’s nothing to cry over.”

There’s a beat of silence. Six sets of eyes narrow, exchanging looks like they’ve rehearsed this. You can feel the shift in the air. The whisper of an unspoken plan forming. But no one says it. No one says “we’re going to find you someone better.” No one says “we’ve already made a list.”

Instead, Gabriel sits beside you. “Okay. Well, if you’re fine… we’re still staying for brunch.”

“Obviously,” Franco says.

“Non-negotiable,” Isack adds.

Ollie leans forward, fake-casual. “So… no one new in the picture yet?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you taking attendance for my love life now?”

He shrugs. “Just making conversation.”

You laugh. “Well, no. There’s nothing to report. I’m enjoying being single.”

Half-true. You take another sip of coffee and hide your smirk. They all nod slowly. Quiet. Suspicious. Too quiet.

Gabriel’s already texting someone under the table. Jack’s typing into his Notes app. Franco looks like he’s trying to remember every eligible man on the grid. Kimi is definitely plotting a background check. You say nothing.

Because letting them believe you’re freshly single, emotionally vulnerable, and in need of saving? Is way too fun to correct.

—

The brunch was meant to be a quick thing. A little comfort, a little check-in, maybe a pastry or two.

But somewhere between the third round of pancakes and Kimi yelling at Jack for putting ketchup on eggs, it turned into something else.

You knew you were doomed the moment Ollie declared, mouth full of toast.

“You’re not allowed to be alone today. We’re going with you.”

You’d laughed. Thought it was a joke. But now it’s two hours later, and they’re all still here. You walk into the training facility like usual, hoodie up, bag slung over your shoulder, calm and collected. Behind you? Six men trailing in a chaotic single file like toddlers on a leash.

Gabriel’s rapidly texting on his phone. Franco’s wearing sunglasses indoors. Jack’s humming. Isack is trying to arm wrestle Kimi mid walk. Ollie keeps speed walking ahead of you, then backpedaling like a mall cop on edge.

“You guys don’t actually have to stay,” you say for the fifth time, mildly exasperated.

“Yes, we do,” Ollie insists. “What if your ex tries to talk to you again?”

“I blocked him.”

“What if he makes a burner account?”

“I blocked five burner accounts.”

Kimi snorts. “I told you she’s too smart for him.”

Isack stretches like he’s preparing for a UFC match. “Still. You’re emotionally delicate right now.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m emotionally fine.”

“She’s in denial,” Jack whispers. “Classic phase two.”

You groan, swiping your pass at the entrance and holding the door open for your band of feral ducklings.

—

You’re halfway through your warm-up laps when it happens. You jog around the corner of the facility and pass by a small group of guys—some local trainers and junior athletes. You nod politely at them, earbuds in, barely noticing.

But they notice you. One of them—tall, maybe twenty-five—stares for a second too long. Not creepy. Just curious. And apparently, that’s enough to start World War III. Because from across the room, you hear a voice yell.

“HEY. EYES UP, BRO. THAT’S MY MOM.”

You stop in your tracks. Spin around. Ollie is storming toward the guy with a hand on his chest like he’s about to deliver the sermon of the year.

The poor guy looks so confused. “I—what?”

“She’s a national treasure,” Ollie says, dead serious. “You don’t ogle national treasures.”

You jog back over, cheeks already burning from embarrassment. “Ollie. He just wanted an autograph.”

“No he didn’t.”

“Yes. He’s holding a pen.”

The guy timidly raises his hand. “I just wanted to say hi. I’m a fan.”

Ollie glares. You sigh and pat the fan on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I appreciate it.”

Behind you, Isack leans toward Franco. “Should we start screening everyone she interacts with?”

“Already doing it,” Franco says, typing something into his phone. “I have a form.”

—

By mid-afternoon, they’ve followed you to recovery. Then to the simulator. Then back to your place, where they claim they’re “just checking your locks.” Kimi installs a door camera. Jack offers to sleep on your couch. Gabriel keeps offering to cook for you.

Every time you so much as look at your phone, someone leans over your shoulder.

Ollie squints, head on my shoulder. “Who’s that?”

You sigh and chuckle. “My nutritionist.”

Franco looks up at you. “Okay. What’s his intention?”

”My nutrition.”

Eventually, you collapse onto the couch, arms folded, finally fed up.

“Guys,” you say flatly, “I’m not a baby deer in a storm. I am fine. No one needs to be screened. I don’t need a 24-hour security team. And I definitely don’t need—”

Ding. Your phone lights up. A message from Max.

You alive or are they still holding you hostage?

You smile at the screen—just a little. Just enough for Isack to notice.

He leans forward. “Who was that.”

“Just… a friend.”

Six heads whip around.

“WHO.”

You roll your eyes and stand. “I’m going to shower. Please, for the love of god, do not follow me.”

They groan like they’re being abandoned on a battlefield. And as you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear Jack whisper.

“We need to escalate. Operation Boyfriend starts now.”

—

f1gossipgirls

785,090 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Mercedes driver YN LN made her first paddock appearance since her rumored breakup — and if anyone’s heartbroken, it’s definitely not her. Looking radiant and unbothered, she was welcomed with a big hug from teammate Kimi Antonelli and closely tailed by Isack Hadjar, who appeared glued to her side all day.

The real kicker? Her full squad of rookie ducklings followed her everywhere — from the garage to the grid walk to the drivers parade, forming what can only be described as a personal security detail (or cult? unclear). But we love this new and radiant Grid Mum! 

—

view 185,090 other comments.

username000 : kimi hugging her like a baby koala was not on my 2025 bingo card but i’ll take it

username00 : ollie: “she doesn’t need us” also ollie: breathing down the neck of anyone who looks at her for more than 0.2 seconds 😭

username0 : franco, gabriel, jack, ollie, kimi, and isack acting like sons to a woman only a few years older than them… peak formula 1 content

username1 : Grid Mum is such an accurate title like they would all FOLLOW HER INTO BATTLE 😭

username5 : i’ve never been more proud of a woman i’ve never met in my LIFE. she won. she’s glowing. she has six rookies as her army. iconic behavior only.

—

The date with Carlos was scheduled with precision.

Ollie booked the restaurant himself, despite forgetting to ask whether you were allergic to seafood. Isack made a shared Google Doc of outfit suggestions. Franco literally coached Carlos on what not to say during the car ride there. Gabriel told you to “just act natural,” which was rich coming from someone who panics ordering coffee.

Carlos, for his part, handled it like a champ.

“You know they sent me a PDF,” he tells you, raising an eyebrow as the waiter pours wine.

You blink. “A PDF?”

He nods, fighting a smile. “Title was ‘So You Think You Can Date YN.’”

You nearly choke on your water. “I swear to God.”

He grins. “Very detailed. They had a whole section on things not to mention. Like your ex. Or 2019 qualifying in Monaco.”

“Fair,” you say, smirking.

To his credit, Carlos is very good at this. Charming, confident, a little teasing, but never pushy. He asks about your training, your favorite circuits, the meaning behind the small tattoo on your wrist. He compliments your eyes like he means it.

And for a second, you let yourself lean into it. Until you spot them. Behind Carlos, tucked into a booth near the corner?

The Ducklings.

Poorly disguised in sunglasses, hoodies, and baseball caps—like a weird boyband on the run.

Jack has a menu held upside down. Gabriel is clearly filming on his phone. Ollie is wearing a fake moustache. Franco waves when you make eye contact. Kimi sits with his arms crossed like a bodyguard. And Isack’s just… staring at Carlos. Like he wants to  wrestle him across the table.

You bite back a laugh. Carlos follows your gaze, glancing over his shoulder. He turns back, grinning.

“Should we tell them I saw them an hour ago?”

“No,” you say, sipping your wine. “Let them have their fun.”

He raises his glass. “To the worst spies in F1 history.”

—

You don’t know how they convinced Pierre to do this. Maybe it was Franco’s charm. Maybe it was the rookie group chat descending into madness after “Carlos Date Day.” Or maybe Pierre’s just here for the chaos, as always.

Either way, here you are. Dress. Dinner. Dim lighting. And Pierre, in an offensively good shirt, holding out a chair like he was born for this.

“I must say,” he smirks, “the moment they approached me with the idea, I said finally. Someone’s letting me take the prettiest driver on the grid out.”

You snort. “Do you use that line often?”

He grins, absolutely unapologetic. “Only when it’s true.”

You sit, trying not to smile too much. The restaurant is all low lighting and flickering candles—Pierre’s choice, obviously. He orders a bottle of wine in French, and the waiter actually blushes. You already regret letting Franco be in charge of the location.

“So,” you say, narrowing your eyes playfully, “what did the Ducklings promise you?”

“Ah,” he leans back dramatically, “they said if I sweep you off your feet, I get Kimi’s sim time for the month.”

You blink. “That’s… weirdly generous.”

“I know.” He raises his glass. “They’re getting desperate.”

You clink. “They are insane.”

“Insanely devoted to you,” he corrects.

You pause. Let that sit. Because he’s not wrong. And that’s when you spot them. The Ducklings. At it again.

Ollie and Isack behind the wine rack. Kimi pretending to be a server with an apron and a scowl. Jack crouching behind a decorative plant that is way too small. Gabriel and Franco sitting two tables over with fake menus covering their faces, whispering like spies.

You sigh into your wine. “They are so bad at hiding.”

Pierre glances over, raises an eyebrow, and smirks. “Should we give them something to talk about?”

You lean forward, amused. “Like what?”

He doesn’t answer. Just raises a brow and slowly reaches across the table to take your hand, smooth and steady. In the background, someone gasps audibly. Definitely Isack. Pierre doesn’t flinch.

“They need to believe I’m a threat,” he says lowly, thumb brushing your knuckles. “Otherwise, what’s the fun?”

You shake your head, trying not to laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“I’m French,” he says with a wink. “Same thing.”

—

over with the rookies…

“HE’S HOLDING HER HAND. HE’S HOLDING HER HAND.” Ollie panics into his little earpiece.

Isack sighs. “Deploying emotional damage protocol. Permission to interfere?”

Kimi sets the glass of water down at the table he is pretending to serve. “Negative. We observe. We do not assassinate.”

Gabriel smiles from behind the menu. “She just looks so pretty. I wouldn’t be able to let go either.”

Franco starts panicking and fanning himself with said menu. “Guys. She’s smiling.”

Jack puts his head down. “It’s Carlos all over again. This is a spiral.”

Ollie face palms. “I told you we should’ve gone with Alex first. He would’ve been soft. Safe. Pierre has an agenda.”

—

Pierre’s still holding your hand when you laugh—genuine and loud and a little tipsy. The date has been fun, even if it feels like an elaborate school play. He’s charming, flirty, just the right amount of dangerous. But still…

Not the one who sent you a photo of your coffee order this morning. Not the one who smirks every time the rookies panic. Not the one who hasn’t stopped texting you versions of “good luck surviving them” all day.

You finish dessert—chocolate tart and rookie glares—and stand with Pierre as the waiter brings the bill. He leans close, lips brushing your cheek.

“Merci, chérie,” he murmurs, warm and quiet. “This was fun.”

And it was. But the second you step outside and the rookies swarm you, dramatic as ever—

Ollie checks you over quickly, holding your arms. “ARE YOU OKAY? DID HE POISON YOU WITH COMPLIMENTS?”

Isack rushes over, out of breath. “DO YOU HAVE EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH??”

Gabriel reaches up and brushes your hair. “Did he touch your hair???”

You just laugh, shrugging them off as you walk to the car. Because even though Pierre was perfect on paper— He wasn’t Max. And maybe the rookies haven’t figured it out yet.

—

You were promised a casual night.

“Low pressure,” Gabriel said.

“Light-hearted,” Jack promised.

“Just Alex,” Franco winked. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Famous last words.  Because ten minutes into sitting across from Alex Albon at a cozy Thai restaurant — one he picked himself — you clock all six rookies sitting in a booth across the room in matching black hoodies like they’re in a rogue choir.

Alex leans in, smiling wide as he watches you clock them. “So. We’re ignoring the Secret Service detail?”

“Apparently,” you deadpan. “Their idea of ‘stealth’ is coordinated outfits and Jack holding a menu upside down.”

Alex chuckles, offering you a piece of spring roll with his chopsticks. “I’ll admit, I kind of love the chaos. Makes me feel like I’m in a sitcom.”

You grin, accepting it. “Is this their idea of soft-launching us?”

“Please,” Alex says, mock offended. “If I was soft-launching you, it’d be on a boat, golden hour lighting, maybe a quirky caption.”

You laugh out loud. Truth be told, this is the most normal of the “dates” so far. Alex is sweet, calm, and effortlessly funny. He talks to you like you’ve known each other for years. No pressure, no forced charm. Just vibing over pad see ew and Thai iced teas. Still, something’s… off. Not with him, exactly. Just… something.

—

duckling commentary…

Ollie whispers lowly. “Why is she laughing that hard? What did he say? I need a transcript.”

Isack squints. “She looks relaxed. TOO relaxed.”

Kimi shrugs. “He’s got soft energy. I’m not threatened.”

Franco sighs. “But what if she likes soft energy.”

Gabriel with a mouth full. “I like Alex. He’s soft. Like tofu.”

Jack moves the menu from his face. “I will literally flip this table if he touches her hand.”

—

back to you and mr. albon…

“You know,” Alex says, mid-bite, “I told them this was ridiculous. I said, ‘She’s not looking for someone. She’s got that look in her eye like she already found someone and hasn’t told them yet.’”

You go still.

He looks up at you. “Sorry—was that too much?”

You stare at him for a second.

And then: “No. That was… very on point.”

Alex smiles, a little softer now. “It’s not me, is it?”

You shake your head slowly. “No.”

He sits back, letting out a small breath. “Didn’t think so. Just wanted to be sure before I told Isack to stop plotting date number four.”

You laugh. Like full body laugh.

“God, they’re so intense.”

“They’re obsessed with you,” Alex says easily. “I get it. You’re kind of their mum. But also their queen. Their general. Their—”

“Duck wrangler.”

“Exactly.”

You sip your drink. “You’re handling this well.”

“I like being a decoy,” Alex shrugs. “Gives me a front row seat to the Max Verstappen Situation.”

You choke. “The what?”

He smirks. “Oh, come on. You don’t think we all saw him volunteer for the draft room? He showed up like he’d already won.”

You press your lips together. “It’s… complicated.”

“Is it?” Alex grins. “Because I think the only people who haven’t figured it out are the rookies. And honestly? I’m not telling them. Watching this slow unraveling is the best thing to happen to the paddock since Pierre got stuck in that bathroom in Baku.”

—

You and Alex step out of the restaurant into the night air, the six rookies immediately materializing from inside.

Isack approaches quickly. “Rate the date. Out of 10. Be honest.”

Ollie checks you over, again. “Did he hold you?”

Kimi crosses his arms. “I brought pepper spray in case things got weird.”

Gabriel sighs dramatically. “Alex, are you in love with her?”

Jack stares at you. “Was it mid?? Be real.”

Franco stares down Alex. “You better not hurt her or I’ll flatten you on the sidewalk.”

Alex just throws his hands up. “Guys. I’m literally the safe option. You picked me for vibe control.”

—

The place is quiet. Max picked a rooftop bar just outside the city — warm lights, open air, panoramic views, and most importantly—no cameras. Well. Except the ones hidden behind a concrete planter across the deck. You glance toward it and spot the very obvious outline of Ollie’s curly hair. You don’t even say anything. Max sees it too. He smirks.

“They really don’t know how to blend in, huh?”

“Nope.”

“I think he is wearing the fake mustache again.”

“I give them points for commitment.”

You clink your glasses together — you with a ginger beer, Max with something dark and still half-ignored — and settle into the kind of silence that feels earned, not awkward. The breeze lifts your hair slightly. His eyes follow the movement, just for a second.

“You’ve been humoring them,” he says after a while.

You glance at him. “You’ve been letting them spiral.”

He grins. “I don’t intervene in things I already won.”

Your heart does a thing. You sip your drink to cover it.

—

meanwhile at the rookie watchtower…

Jack smiles, looking satisfied. “Okay, we’re officially in the final boss round.”

Isack eyes the both of you. “Do we think he’s actually playing the game or just… winning by default?”

Gabriel shrugs. “He’s not even trying to flirt and it’s working. I hate it here.”

Ollie squints at Max. “He’s got that smug ‘I already kissed her’ look—”

Franco shrieks. “Wait. Has he???”

Kimi eyes all of the boys. “Do we interfere if tongues happen.”

All of them erupt. “YES.”

—

back with you and maxie…

Back at the table, Max leans forward slightly, eyes on you like he’s choosing every word carefully.

“I’m glad you let them do this.”

“Yeah?”

“Gave me a front-row seat to your smile. And their chaos. Win-win.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So what’s your plan? You know they’re watching.”

He shrugs. “Not here to impress them.”

“Oh?”

Max sets his drink down.

“I’m here to kiss you in front of them and end this game.”

You go still. Heart? Racing.

“You’re serious.”

He stands. Offers his hand. You take it. And then he pulls you in gently, tilting your chin up just enough, and kisses you like it’s not even a question anymore. Like it never was. Warm. Certain. Slow. Soft. And behind you—

“OH MY GOD.”

“THAT’S ILLEGAL.”

“THAT’S AGAINST THE RULES.”

You don’t even break the kiss until Max pulls back with a laugh, turning just slightly toward the human pile of rookies currently losing their minds behind a planter.

His arm stays looped around your waist.

“That’s against the rules!” Ollie yells again, hands flailing.

Max smirks. Shrugs.

“I don’t follow rules,” he says simply, “when she’s already mine.”

Jack screams into a napkin. 

Franco blinks in disbelief. “HE SAID WHAT—”

Isack looks like he is going to faint. “I NEED TO SIT DOWN.”

Gabriel clutching his chest. “I think I just blacked out.”

Kimi smirked. “I knew it. I KNEW IT.”

Ollie crumbles quickly. “They made us schedule a date with Alex when she was already WITH HIM—”

You turn toward Max, cheeks warm, heart light, still half-shocked and entirely melted.

“That was… dramatic.”

“Worth it.”

“You really planned to one-up the rookies?”

He grins. “No. I planned to end the game before they tried to match you with Lando.”

You laugh and kiss him again — brief, bright, completely yours. Alongside the two of you, six ducklings begin planning a joint wedding speech.

—

maxverstappen1

liked by gabrielbortoleto_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 5,505,023 others.

maxverstappen1 : grid mom and dad making it official. love you, schat❤️

tagged : yourusername

—

view 250,000 other comments.

gabrielbortoleto_ : i feel like i found out santa isn’t real but also found out my parents are canceling the divorce on the same day.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ yourusername : idek what that means but okay my little ducky.

↳ gabrielbortoleto_ : im betrayed but overjoyed

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francolapinto : mama y papa

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olliebearman : we scheduled dates. we made color-coded spreadsheets. we googled how to flirt respectfully. AND YOU WERE ALREADY KISSING.

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↳ isackhadjar : i was ready to flatten pierre with my car for this woman. AND THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT ME???

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↳ jackdoohan : we booked a RESTAURANT. i WORE A COLLARED SHIRT. i told a waiter “it’s her big day.” for WHAT.

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↳ gabrielbortoleto_ : i was her emotional support water bottle holder. do you know how much responsibility that is???

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↳ kimi.antonelli : i knew. i always knew. but i let the others spiral because it was funny.

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↳ olliebearman : don’t even talk. i wrote her a DATING PROFILE. with bullet points.

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↳ isackhadjar : they KISSED ON THE DATE I WAS HIDING BEHIND A PLANT FOR. i need financial compensation.

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↳ olliebearman : HEY. i wore that itchy ass mustache four dates in a ROW.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ yourusername : i would trust you all with my life. just not my love life ❤️

—

bonus scene!

The checkered flag waves. You don’t even hear the roar of the crowd at first — not over the static-crackling voice of your race engineer, screaming so loud he’s probably broken something in the garage.

“P1! YN, that’s P1 — you did it! YOU BLOODY DID IT!”

You’re not breathing. Your hands are shaking around the wheel, your visor fogged slightly with heat and adrenaline. You let out a noise — somewhere between a yell and a laugh and a sob — and punch the air so hard you might’ve dislocated something. And then another voice cuts in. Kimi. Completely unprofessional. Totally euphoric.  “GRID MOM WINS. THE GRID MOM WON!!!”

You let out a laugh, heart racing, vision blurring. Your car rolls over the finish line and onto the cooldown lap, your fingers white-knuckled around the wheel.

By the time you’re climbing out of the car, the world is already screaming. Fans at the fence chant your name. The Mercedes crew is piling over the pit wall like lunatics.

You tear your helmet off and throw your arms in the air. You’ve barely taken a full breath when you’re tackled from the side — Kimi, jumping on you like a golden retriever with too much kinetic energy.

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU,” he yells, muffled by your shoulder.

“You got your first podium!” you laugh, hugging him just as tightly.

“And YOU WON. So, respectfully — I will get in line, this is your moment.”

He lets you go with one last enthusiastic pat on the back, and that’s when you see him.

Max. Standing a few paces away, helmet off, hair messy, eyes only on you.

The way he looks at you? Like you painted the sky.

He doesn’t rush you. Just walks forward with that calm, smug patience he always has — but when you meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around his neck and laughing into his shoulder, he lifts you slightly off the ground without hesitation.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says softly into your hair.

You pull back just enough to see his face. “Still think you let me win?”

He grins. “Only because you’re hot.”

The champagne sprays. The flashbulbs explode. The crowd is still roaring when Max steps off his podium block, strides across to you — and kisses you. It's not subtle. It's not quiet. It's a hard launch in high definition. He pulls back only slightly, curls his arm around your waist. Your eyes go wide, but you're already smiling. Laughing, even. You press your forehead to his and exhale one word through your grin.

“Dramatic.”

“Correct.”

But before either of you can bask in it for too long— CHAOS.

Suddenly, there’s yelling. Sprinting. A commotion behind the barriers. And then— A ROOKIE STAMPEDE.

Ollie is first. He launches himself up the side of the podium steps like it’s the final stage of Ninja Warrior. Franco and Gabriel follow, scaling like climbers on caffeine.

Jack does a running leap. Isack vaults the barrier with no regard for ankle safety. And Kimi, of course, simply walks up — nods at the FIA official like this is normal, and joins the crowd. They pile onto the podium. No one stops them. Security gives up. Fans are shrieking.

Franco hugs your waist and yells, “MY MOM WON!!”

Jack flings an arm around Max and shouts, “DAD HARD LAUNCHED! HISTORY HAS BEEN MADE!”

Ollie collapses onto the floor of the podium and moans, “I feel so emotionally unsafe right now, but I’m also so proud.”

Gabriel is taking selfies mid-hug.Isack is clinging to your arm like it’s the last flotation device on the Titanic.

Kimi sighed happily. “It was time. The people needed to know.”

And in the middle of it all, Max just throws an arm around your shoulders and says with a completely straight face. “These are our children now.”

—

Later that night, Max throws his phone on the hotel bed and flops down beside you, still smiling.

“I think we broke the Internet,” you murmur.

“I think we adopted six grown men.”

You laugh. “Worth it.”

He turns his head, grinning. “They love you, you know.”

“I know.”

You pause. “They love us.”

He kisses you again — soft this time, slow — and the world outside fades. For now, it’s just the two of you. And the six rookies already planning family brunch in the group chat.

—

[misc-obeyme]

prompt: Mammon

a/n: I know, I'm late. I had... a lot going on yesterday. So you get Mammon late. I was going to do Levi today too but I can't find the notes I wrote for his anywhere. So you'll get Levi at some point, maybe tomorrow? I dunno, I might just be a day late forever now, too lol. Anyway, I'm sorry for the low quality of this, like I said there were extenuating circumstances. @om-adventcalendar

Mammon x GN!MC

Warnings: more fluff~

It was the end of a lovely night out, courtesy of Mammon winning big at the casino for once. He insisted on spending it all on a date and who were you to refuse him?

You followed him out into the parking lot after finishing a delicious meal at Ristorante Six. When you reached his Demonio, Mammon put a hand in his pocket for his keys. You watched him as he frowned and checked the other pocket. Then he looked at you in confusion as he began patting down the pockets of his jacket, clearly checking for keys that he couldn't find.

Finally, he peered into the driver's side window, his hands on either side of his face to block any glare.

"Let me guess," you said, after watching this play out. "The keys are locked inside?"

Mammon pulled his head away and looked at you forlornly. You pressed your shoulder against his so you could put your face where his had been between his hands. Sure enough, the keys sat alone and discarded on the driver's seat.

"How did you lock the car without the keys?" you asked.

"This car is top of the line, MC," Mammon said. "It locks automatically."

You moved away from the car and saw Mammon rubbing at his face beneath his sunglasses for a moment. When he looked at you again, it was with the most defeated expression you had ever seen. It was so cute, you couldn't help but laugh.

“Oi!” he protested immediately. “It ain’t funny!”

You tried to suppress your laughter, but it it was difficult. "Don't you have a spare key somewhere?"

"Nah, this is the only key," Mammon said, folding his arms and pouting at your poorly concealed amusement.

You laughed again and took his arm. "Come on, don't look like that. You have to admit it's a little funny."

“I don’t gotta admit anythin’,” he grumbled.

You pulled out your D.D.D. "All right, let's call a locksmith."

Mammon didn’t say anything as you found a number for a locksmith and called. You gave them your location and told them your predicament. You had to wait only a short time before the demon showed up.

The demon gave Mammon a slight bow, clearly recognizing him as the Avatar of Greed.

Then he saw you and smirked. “This human causing you problems, huh?” he asked. “Coulda told you humans are dumb.”

The air around Mammon began to crackle, making you suck in a breath. He took a few steps, getting real close to the demon. He looked him dead in the eyes and said, "I'm the one who locked the keys in the car. Are ya callin' me dumb?"

The demon back pedaled immediately. “N-no, of course not!”

“Good,” Mammon said. “Now apologize to my human.”

The demon looked like he was about to shit himself. “S-sorry,” he stuttered in your direction, unable to meet your eyes.

Mammon backed off, returning to your side. He grinned and it was a little bit unhinged. “Now can ya unlock the door or not?”

The demon quickly unlocked the door, handing Mammon the keys and insisting there was no charge for the service. He got into his own vehicle and drove off so fast you thought he might take flight.

You turned to Mammon. “Was that really necessary? You scared that guy half to death.”

Mammon grinned at you, escorting you to the passenger side and opening the door for you. “Nobody insults my human.”

You rolled your eyes, but got into the car. Mammon closed your door then went around and got into the driver’s seat. He leaned over the center console toward you. “Ain’t it my duty to defend your honor?”

You snorted. “Pretty sure I’m the one defending your honor all the time. But I’ll let you see how it feels, just this once.”

You met him over the console with a gentle kiss, teasing his bottom lip with your tongue before pulling away.

Mammon's eyes were glazed over for a moment before he cleared his throat and started the car. You noted how he took the quickest way back to the House of Lamentation with almost no regard for speed limits. He parked the Demonio in its usual spot in his room, but it was a long time before either of you got out.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[macabr3-barbi3]

pretty wings- Vox/fallen angel!Reader

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55237840

A Good Samaritan- a rare commodity in Hell- helps Vox to his car in the rain. How can he ever repay her?

(There's a second chapter now!)

Tags: wing kink; angel wings; fallen angels; vaginal sex; couch sex; fantasizing; begging; switching? maybe idk; Vox has a lil crush <3

💙❤️💙❤️💙

How it still manages to rain in Hell when there is no real atmosphere, he would never understand. Vox had never really liked the rain, even when he was alive- all it ever meant was canceled plans, systems going down, deep shitty puddles that got his shoes and pants wet and dirty. Like now, standing off the back porch of the restaurant he had just finished a meeting in, waiting for his fucking assistant to answer his goddamn phone and call a driver for him so he could go the fuck home since he couldn’t walk to his car. 

He had been standing under the awning of the restaurant for twenty minutes now. The rain showed no sign of letting up, his meeting partners had all left, and Vox was fucked. He couldn’t go back inside- what kind of fucking loser goes back into an establishment after paying their tab, and for what? To ask for an umbrella? He’d rather die again. And if his assistant didn’t pick up his phone real fucking soon, someone would absolutely be dying today. 

“Excuse me, sir?”

He sighs internally, sets his charm to its max setting and the brightness of his screen up before he turns towards your voice. “So sorry, doll, I’m afraid I’m all out of time for photo ops today!” 

You raise an eyebrow, and he lets his gaze travel over your form. You looked relatively normal for a demon, your face still pretty human besides the two horns that came off your skull. Your eyes were wide and yellow, a heavy coat draped over your shoulders as you looked at him- not that much shorter, he noted, which was a nice change of pace from talking to Velvette all the time and having to crane basically in half to meet her eyes.

“That’s… not what I was going to ask.” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, and can feel his screen glitch on his smile as he watches you. “An interview then? Look, you can contact my people but I am really not in the-”

“What I was going to ask,” you interrupt him, and Vox fights down the wave of annoyance at having been cut off, “was if you needed help.”

His face screws up and he means to immediately deny. “Absolutely not. I’m perfectly fine-”

“Are you?”

And that was going to get annoying fast if you kept doing that, he thought to himself.

“You’ve been standing out here for close to half an hour and glaring at your phone. I don’t think its crazy to assume that you need some assistance with something having to do with the rain.” You look him over, much the same way that he had done to you. “I would imagine that the whole ‘TV head’ thing you have going on doesn’t mix well with precipitation.”

Well, you had him there. “You’re not wrong,” he admits testily. “But my assistant will be sending someone to drive me soon. I’ll be fine.” He flashes you a winning smile.

“I mean, I guess you could wait for your assistant to answer your calls- doesn’t seem like you’re having much luck with reaching them.” You cross your arms over your chest, and- nope, Vox was not going to stand out here in the rain and ogle some random sinner’s tits. He redirects his gaze. “Or you could let me either walk you to your car or walk with you to wherever you’re going.”

He throws you a side eye and sighs heavily, letting his head drop back before rolling an eye down to look at you. “You don’t look like you have an umbrella,” he says, crossing his arms now as well. “How exactly are we getting to my car?”

You give him a smile that shorts a fuse in his head for a moment, wide and earnest and pretty. “Who needs an umbrella?” You shrug one of your shoulders and the coat you’re wearing starts to slide off your shoulders. Vox makes a move to stop the slide like a gentleman, keep the coat covering your body and stop it from slipping into a puddle, when it rises up off your back and comes to cover the both of you. He sees black feathers interspersed with white spots as the bottom comes into view, and he realizes it wasn’t a coat at all.

You had wings. Big, powerful wings by the look of it- the part connected to your back didn’t shake under the weight of the limb being extended over your heads. He stared at them; he knew he was staring, that you might think it was strange, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was mesmerizing. Thrilling.

He feels a spark of arousal shoot through him at the sight of them, and his plans change for the night. You’re pretty, and the curves of your body are appealing, but the wings. He wants to explore them. Wants to tease you with your own feathers. To run his fingers over them and watch you struggle to maintain this composure you have. He’s confident in his ability to get you home with him- maybe offer a drink as thanks for your help or something. 

“Sure, I guess you can walk me to my car,” he says, feigning an air of disinterest despite the twitch in his cock. “It’s not every day one meets a sinner so giving- I might as well take advantage!” He sees the flinch that shoots across your face, making your wing tremble, but you straighten up and stiffen your shoulders, gesturing out to the street being beaten by the rain.

“Lead the way.”

He steps out from under the awning and is delighted when your wing does, in fact, shelter the both of you from the weather. You bring the second wing out to block any rain from blowing under the first with the wind, and Vox is fucking obsessed with the subtle muscle of them, the careful strength in the way that you adjust the angle of them to keep him dry. It seems subconscious, the movement of them, as Vox gave you directions to where he had parked earlier when the sky was dry and he had thought he could enjoy a nice walk after his meeting. 

A piece of paper, litter off the ground, comes flying under the shelter you were providing him aiming right for his screen. He brings up a hand to block it- wet paper wouldn’t do any real damage but it was still annoying- when the tip of the wing over your head dips down slightly, catches it with a corner, and flings it off to the side. A drop of water manages to fly off the thing and splatter on his screen. You give him a smile, apology on your lips at being unable to prevent the attack. You turn back to the cars in front of you, looking for the electric blue of his vehicle that he had described to you.

Vox wants you spread out in his bed, he decides. Your wings splayed out behind you in whatever position he decided to take you- he would work with anything. He could trace his fingers over the delicate bones with you on your back as he drilled into you; grab a fistful of feathers while he fucks you from behind, use that leverage to sink his cock into you as far as he could manage; let you unfurl them from your back while you ride him so they cover you both like a blanket, seal yourselves off from the rest of the world and let the only light you see be his screen in the darkness of it.

“Sir?” 

He blinks hard a couple times and realizes that you’ve reached his car, and you’re standing there in the rain illuminated by the few streetlights that reach this back corner. Your eyebrow is cocked at him in amusement, wings still suspended over him. “I think walking you over here defeats the purpose if you don’t actually get in the car.”

“Right, right!” He touches a claw to the vehicle and it roars to life as he grabs the handle and maneuvers himself inside of it. He looks up at you now, the positions reversed, and his breath catches in his throat, cock throbbing. You’re magnificent like this, wings still hanging above you and slightly over the car to make sure no moisture can reach him. The rest of your body is relaxed but he can see it in his head, the way that you would look tense with pleasure, eyes clenched shut and mouth hanging open. 

You give him a smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

The vague chagrin that shoots through him does nothing to quell the erection rapidly growing in his pants. “I was going to say thank you,” he insists, and the way you laugh has him wanting to inject the sound into his fucking veins. “Can I- can I give you a ride home? You know, as thanks for walking me over here, making sure I don’t get waterlogged.”

You look like you’re going to refuse at first but then you shrug. “Sure. It’s not too far, if you really don’t mind.”

Fuck yes! The processors in his head are whirring, wondering how best to convince you to come back to his place on the way to yours. Or fuck, maybe he could just join you at your place. He wasn’t picky about where the fucking happened, as long as it did. He was desperate for it, to have you gasping for him while he plucked at your pretty wings with his cock nestled deep inside your pussy.

The passenger door opens and you enter the car with your knees on the leather seat. He questions it for only a moment before you lean back and shake your wings viciously outside the vehicle, dispersing as much of the water as you can before you sit normally in the seat. You buckle up and give him a sweet smile, pointing a slender finger to the other side of the parking lot where the exit is.

He can’t remember being so fucking turned on before as he puts some music on and starts driving. Sure, he had his fun with Val and sometimes some of his actors between scenes and shit, the occasional fangirl or one of Velvette’s models but just being aroused by the presence of someone? Who wasn’t actively trying to seduce him? Was just sitting in the passenger seat of his car while he drove her home?

It was new, and it was exciting, and God, those fucking wings…

They’re tucked delicately behind you, the black of your feathers contrasting nicely with the deep red leather of his seats. He’d never seen a demon with wings like these before- they were usually attached to the arms of them or draped off the back. More for decoration than anything else; even Val’s wings weren’t so prehensile and flexible, he thought, thinking about the way the tip had dipped down to sling that piece of paper away from him.

“So, your wings-”

“We’re here,” you say with a grin, the car not even having left the parking lot.

“What? I- here? ” He does stop the vehicle before looking over at you, craning his neck forward to look at a building that sat kitty corner to the restaurant he had his meeting in.

“I told you it wasn’t far.” He can hear the giggle in your voice. “How else do you think I saw you standing out here the whole time? I could see the glow of your screen from my window. Figured I would offer a hand since you didn’t look like you were making much progress.”

He stares at you. He hadn’t had time to try to convince you to spend more time with him- to convince you to let him get his hands on those feathers.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You’re reaching for the door handle when he blurts out, “wait!”

And thank fuck, you do. You look back at him with an eyebrow raised but your hand stops reaching. He clears his throat, fixes you with what he hopes is a suave look. “Let me thank you,” he says. “We can go grab a drink at my place- or I can buy you dinner, if you’d rather do that. Order some takeout if you want to stay home.” Smile wide, he waits for you to respond.

Bells and whistles ring in his head as you buckle back up. “I’m down on one condition.”

“Name it, doll,” is his immediate response, and he’s only a little embarrassed at the speed with which he spoke. “Really, I want to give you a proper show of gratitude- there’s no way this counts. Whatever you want.”

A crooked little smile graces your face. “Can I get your name?”

He can almost feel the error message crawl across the bottom of his screen; he doesn’t know what it says but he watches your eyes follow the scrawl of words, the real reason he knew it was there. “Vox,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.” He leaves off what is obvious to anyone else- Overlord of Hell, Media Mastermind, TV demon on the fast track to ruling Pentagram city. If you didn’t already know these things then you had to be new- that explained the blatant disrespect earlier, interrupting him, dismissing his words. If you didn’t know he wouldn’t tell you yet. He would win you over and get you onto a horizontal surface without his reputation; preferably with his sharp tongue, strong fingers and thick cock if he had a choice in the matter.

“Vox.” You repeat his name, and it sounds so sweet and innocent that he can’t wait for you to scream it out in ecstasy. You give him your name in return as he pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards Vee Tower.

The silence is comfortable on the relatively short drive, Vox pulling the car into the basement garage of Vee Tower and quietly relishing in the fascinated expression on your face when someone comes to grab the keys to park his car as he leads you to the elevator. “You’re some kind of hotshot, huh?” You ask, lashes fluttering at him in a way that makes his knees weak.

“Something like that, doll,” he says, smile wide while you take it all in. Even just the garage is sophisticated and impressive, and he wishes he could see it through your eyes. He notices your raised eyebrows at the push of the button for the penthouse, but you don’t say anything. “So, your wings- are you some kind of bird?”

A tight smile. “Something like that, doll,” you parrot back to him. “That’s more of a second date question, I think.”

Second date. Was this your first date? Fuck, he should have called his assistant ahead of time and made him get something prepared fresh- gotten some fucking good champagne in- swapped out his comfortable sheets for the silk ones that his bed partners were nuts for even if he didn’t really care for them. But his assistant was fucking useless tonight, evidenced by the fact of your being here in the first place since he couldn’t get a car to fetch him.

Vox might not have met you if he had answered the phone though- so maybe he would let it slide.

He leads you out of the elevator into his home, the lights of Pentagram City casting a lovely red glow over your body. “Nice view.” You stand by it, the white tips of your wings illuminated where the light shone through. He comes to stand beside you in front of the couch, and you give him a pretty smile. “I do have a question though.”

“What’s that?” He has his phone out, firing off one last text to his assistant - "If I don’t hear back from you in the next ten minutes I’m swapping your contract for one of Val’s. FUCKING ANSWER ME” should get his message across- and missing the narrowing of your eyes when you turn back to face him.

“Do you know that you aren’t subtle?” You hook an ankle around the back of his leg and yank, sending him toppling backwards into the couch, his phone hitting the cushion next to you. He has only a brief moment to flounder, wonder what the fuck was happening, before you were straddling his lap, knees on either sides of his thighs and your skirt pulled taut between your legs. “See, I really couldn’t tell if you thought you were. I figured I would ask.”

“What?” He can’t find the power to do anything but watch with his eyes wide while you slide your hands down his chest and settle into his space, the warmth of your cunt palpable through his trousers where you rest against his rapidly hardening prick. “What do you-”

“Ah, you don’t know. Cute.” The word makes him twitch, and when he opens his mouth to protest what comes out instead is a choked off whine as you roll your hips into him. “I like my men a little cute- when they think they’re being so suave and sexy but all they can think about is getting their hands on my body. Or my wings, in this case.” As you mention them you let them puff up a little behind you, spread out ever so slightly so Vox could get a better look. His breath catches- silhouetted by the glow of the city behind you, you were breathtaking. 

“What gave me away, doll?” He could deny, but what was the point in that? The night was already progressing the way that he wanted. You were perhaps a little more forward than he was expecting, but he could work with that. As long as it ended with your pussy swallowing up his cock he would be a happy demon.

You laughed, the sound like a bell in the silence of his place as he settles his hands on your hips. “Besides the blatant ogling of them when I first brought them out and the whole way across the parking lot, you mean? You had an error message in the car running across your screen just here-” You lean down and lick across the lower right corner of his face. “You wanna know what it said?”

“Enlighten me.” He’s amazed he can still get a word out with the blood rushing to his cock, hard length pressed against you where you’re seated on his lap.

“‘Pretty wings,’ it said.” Your fingers come down to undo his belt, whipping it from the loops of his pants. Vox nearly chokes on his tongue when you pull his cock out, already hard and leaking in your hand as you tighten your grip. “Suuuper cute. Over and over.” You lift your hips a bit, shoving your skirt up near your hips and hovering over his length. “I wanna hear it instead of reading it though- can you say it for me, pretty boy?”

You skim his tip through the slickness between your legs, and his brain short circuits when he realizes that you haven’t been wearing panties. “Fuck me,” he manages to laugh out. “Was this your plan the whole time? Play the good Samaritan to get me home so you could ride my cock?”

You shake your head and let yourself sink down the slightest bit, a breathy moan leaving your throat as his head is swallowed by your tight, wet heat. “Not initially. I really was just trying to be a nice person.” You throw him a wink, pulling away when he tries to thrust up and not allowing him to get any deeper inside of you. “Come on now- give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want.”

Fuck, if that doesn’t shoot straight to his prick. “Pretty wings,” he murmurs, letting one of his hands leave your hip to brush against the soft feathers. “They’re beautiful. Strong. Fuckin’ perfect.” With each word you slide down further until you’re fully seated on his cock. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“That’s it, baby,” you say, and shift your hips forward to get him where you want him. “You were thinking about this, yeah?” With a downward grind you let your wings unfurl completely, filling his vision with a flash of feathers that blocks the light of the city from reaching him. A ripple runs through them, the tremor rolling all the way from top to tip and the feeling is imitated around his cock, your tight walls rippling.

He doesn’t whine, thank you very much. But a broken drawn out sound does escape his mouth, screen thrown back over the back of the couch. He can’t bare to fucking look at you with how perfect the moment is, the sight and sound and sensation of you stuffed with his cock better than he could have imagined. “I wanna touch them,” he says, but when he reaches his fingers out you wrap your hands around his wrists, surprising strength in your redirection of his palms to your chest.

“Can we say ‘please’, pretty boy?” You let your wings flutter, a gust of wind blowing across his face from the movement, moaning when his prick hits a soft spot inside you that makes you gush around his length. “I’ll let you touch them if you ask nicely.”

His pride fights him for a moment- this wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to go, with him at your mercy instead of the other way around. He had wanted you under him, wings spread across his mattress and feathers fisted in his hands while he fucked you.

“I’ll give you a demonstration of what I’m looking for,” you offer, and then your lashes are fluttering, eyes rolling back into your head and a whine falling forth from your mouth. “Oh fuck, Vox , baby, please.”

Pride flies out the window in favor of the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock. “Please, sweetheart,” he says, and he lets his clawed thumbs roll over the pebbles of your nipples where you hold him against your chest. “Let me touch them? I’ll be real gentle with you, baby.”

You pick up the pace, releasing his hands and bringing your wings forward, bordering him on either side so all he can see is you. “That’s what I like to hear,” you whisper with a grin, bracing your hands on his shoulders and properly riding him now, the slick sound of your body taking him in echoing in the emptiness of his living room.

He lifts his trembling palms from your chest and brushes the tips of his claws along the bottoms of your wings, feathers gliding softly over his digits- the sensation makes you moan, another gentle ripple running through them. He fists his hands in them, pulling lightly like he might at someone’s hair, and your wet heat pulses around him, pussy tight like you mean to keep him inside of you forever. He wants that- wants to stay buried where he currently is until Hell falls to pieces around you.

His phone rings on the couch beside him, the call taking over his screen moments later. Vox doesn’t want to let go of your wings, having just gotten his hands on them- with a shake of his head the call is dismissed, only to immediately come back and take over his face again. “God fucking-”

You lift a hand from his shoulder and answer the call, a right swipe and a wicked smile leading to Vox’s assistant’s voice filling the space between you and him. “-and I am SO. SORRY. Sir I swear, I have never had my phone on silent like this before-” He continues his rant, and Vox struggles to remember why he was even calling right now- he was fucking busy, damn it, what the fuck.

“-understand that you’re upset, but please, sir, I’ll do better, just don’t send me to Valentino-”

“Better answer him,” you whisper to Vox, dragging your tongue up the side of his screen, hips grinding down. “If I cum before the call ends I’ll leave.”

Graceful fingers slide down your body to rub at your own clit, moaning prettily into the side of his face while his assistant rambled in his ear. Vox was going to fucking combust.

“Just- fuck, man, shut up. It’s fine.” You chuckle into his shirt, deft fingers unbuttoning it and raking your claws down his chest. “ Jesus fuck, I- no, not you. It’s fine. We’ll talk in the morning-”

“But sir if you still need a ride-”

“I fucking found a ride, alright,” he mutters darkly, tightening his grip on your wings in one hand and letting the other trail firmly along the top of it, all the way down to the tip. The feathers seem to shiver in his grasp and your cunt clenches around him, threatens to pull him over the edge with how close you are. “Call me in the morning. Now f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔ o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞. ”

Voice files corrupted, he disconnects the call, reaches his hands around your back to finger at the base of your wings, the skin there taut and sensitive if the keening groan you let off into his shirt is anything to go by. “Fuck me, you feel divine,” he mutters, and you choke off a chuckle at the word. “Let me feel you, angel, cum on my cock.”

“N- naughty men that don’t say please don’t get to make demands,” you say, and he could tease you, could pull your hand away from your clit and make you hover right on the edge of release. But he was a selfish man, and could admit that he wanted the feeling of you coming undone around him more than he wanted to be right.

“Please, baby, please,” he begs, and you hiss through your teeth at the sound of his pleading, sweet and low, the slightest hint of static to his voice. “God, fucking d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛, please, l- let me w̡̻̻̣͚̒̀ͅo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅh̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡-”

““Oh fuck, Vox, baby, please-” Less sarcastic this time despite the half formed smile on your face, and the teasing lilt to it is ruined by the clenching of your eyes as you clamp down on his prick and cum, fingers of the hand not frantically rubbing at your clit digging into his skin while you shudder and shake in the embrace of his arms. 

He follows you moments later, the tension he had felt since meeting you outside the restaurant finally cresting and crashing, and he spends himself inside of the slick grip of your cunt, still riding him with the effort you can spare after the force of your orgasm before eventually slowing. You take your fingers from your clit, circle them around the base of his cock and collect some of your combined releases before bringing them up to his mouth, pushing inside and letting Vox’s tongue wrap around the length of them.

Fuck. You would be the death of him, he was sure.

“Not bad,” you mutter once you’ve collapsed bonelessly against him. “Might need a couple more rounds to really show you the ropes though- really get it through your screen here who is in charge.”

“That’s not you, doll.” Vox laughs, and you bring your wings up to surround the two of you like a fort, the glow of his screen illuminating your face and the teasing smile you wear.

“I guess I could be willing to share,” you agree, leaning forward far enough to press a teasing kiss to the plastic of his face. “We can talk about it tomorrow after you reassure your little assistant that you’re not going to murder him.”

“Still thinking about it,” he muses, “but we’ll see.” He runs his fingers again along the bottom of your wings, delights in your shiver, and wishes the rain would never stop.

[thinkingaboutfilm11]

Complaints about Senna Series

Maybe more than anyone else, I’ve been hyping the Senna series up on here these past few months, partly out of genuine excitement, partly because of my small (big) pre-existing crush on Gabriel Leone (if you’ve watched Dom you get it).

But the trailer has left me so disappointed in what is to come.

It seems that rather than build Ayrton as the fascinating, believable, mixed man that he was in real life, the show has chosen to portray him as a saint of a figure, who can do no wrong, and had the whole world turned against him. Likely this is due to Senna’s ongoing meddling and frankly, disgustingly controlling family, who even thirty years after Ayrton’s passing, still have a tight grip over his life and media presence, but by doing so with this show, I think they’ve let down not only Ayrton, but everyone else too.

Lets start with the obvious- Alain.

Already the show has been insinuating that Alain is the evil driver, the ‘baddie’ that Ayrton’s character must defeat to win the championships. While obviously, the Senna Prost rivalry is famed for its intensity and hatred, and it’d be impossible to show Ayrton’s life without it, I believe the show has gone about it the wrong way. Ayrton was by no means innocent in this rivalry as they are portraying- in fact, with his abusive driving style, and bad attitude towards Prost off track, it could be argued he was the main insinuator.

I think it’s disrespectful to Alain, who now, can only speak well of Ayrton and the relationship they had, to portray him as ‘evil’ as it seems this show is going to do. The fact is they were both as bad as each other, but they also needed each other in order to better themselves. It breaks my heart to think now, thirty years on, Alain may watch this show and once again be put down and hated on when he clearly has expressed nothing but love, admiration and grief towards Ayrton.

I also think this show will likely be disrespectful to the memories of drivers such as Elio. Elio who’s not even been cast in this show, when he was Ayrton’s team mate for a whole year! Just because he didn’t win three championships, does that mean his memory, his life have any less meaning than Ayrton’s? Of course not. It is wrong just to forget him, especially when Ayrton behaved in such a bratty way towards him.

Finally I think this show has most importantly let Ayrton down. The whole reason I relate to him, and respect him, was because he was a flawed man. He was a man driven half insane by his own talent, by his own intensity, and by his own need to win. Himself and his controlling family pushed him so hard, put so many pressures on him, he found it impossible to connect with the people he needed most (like Alain) in fear that it would make him less of a driver. He struggled with self happiness, said so multiple times, clearly had difficulties in many other areas of life, and yet despite all of this, not only turned out to be a brilliant driver, but also a good man as well, who raised hundreds of thousands of children in Brasil. Ayrton is a story of no matter what, never giving up, and battling your own demons to make it where you want to be. And I personally don’t see any way so far in which this show portrays this message.

It is my hope that I am wrong about all this. Maybe this show will turn out to be a good memorial of a good man. But likely it is the ‘Drive to Survive-ification’ of a beautiful story turned bad for a quick buck.

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

not really a request, just a soft thought I had (sinner! Adam)

You and Adam are the only ones in the parlor and sitting next to each other on one of the couches. You’re reading on their phone and listening to Margaret by lana del rey, and it’s making your eyelids heavy. Adam pokes fun at your music taste but is also staring to doze off.

And then Charlie comes downstairs in a bit and finds you two sound asleep on one of the couches together, that song still playing on your phone.

thank you and good night

Okay, I love this idea. I do feel like I’ve been neglecting this fandom a lot, so let me see if I can write a little something.  

It is a rare sight to see the lobby of the new improved Hazbin Hotel completely empty. You’d think that from a glance but if you followed the soft sounds of music, you would spy hiding away on the fancy plush couches in the parlour were two sinners. 

“Remind me again why I let you control the tunes?” Adam huffed as he fiddled with one of the loose threads of the couch 

“Because I want you to experience other music genres, and I know that you like at least some of the songs I’ve played for you. You loved that song I played the 80s synthy one.” 

“Okay that was one song. The rest you’ve played has been . . . meh.” He pulled a bit too hard on a thread making it form a smallish hole. “Oh shit.” Adam turns to try and stuff the thread back into the couch in a vain attempt to fix the mess he made. Last thing he needs was another apology letter to write and knowing Charlie he’d be writing to the couch. 

You giggle behind your hand at his frantic movements to rectify the issue. 

“Hey, don’t laugh at me bitch this is your fault!” Adam snapped over his shoulder. Every attempt to fix the hole led to enlarging it. He still hadn’t gotten used to his new demonic form. His clawed fingers snagging on the fabric “Shit shit shit.” 

You tug on his arm to pull him back enough to see the dilemma. “It ain’t that bad. Just leave it be.” You rested you hand over his stilling him. “If you want I can take the blame for you.” 

Adam turns back to face you. He quirks a brow. “What’s in it for you?” 

“Ahhh, dear Adam. Just a simple request.” 

Adam leans back on the sofa. You had the look in your eyes when you think of something truly twisted. 

Producing your phone again you say, “Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole.” 

“But tha- . .” 

“Ah ah ah.” you shush him with a finger to his lips. “My music. You no talky.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Fyne.” he murmurs against your finger. 

You pull away patting his left cheek. “Good boy.”  

Adam resisted the urge to snap back but just sank down more into the couch cushions. He watched you type the song you wanted and set it to play. Adam wanted to say something but watching you lay down resting your head on his lap. He froze a little. 

“Is this part of the deal? Me becoming your pillow?” 

“Yes, well it is now. Plus you are just the right kind of squish.” 

“Oh now you’re calling me fa- OW! Don’t pinch me.” 

You snigger and nip his leg again with your fingers. He starts nipping your sides in retaliation.  

‘Oh this was war now.’ you thought choosing the parts of Adam that you could reach in your position. The parlour fills with yelps and giggles as you two play fight for dominance. You both wrestle until you are straddling him nipping wildly at his sides and arms 

“Say it!” you nip him again a little harder this time. “Say I don’t have bad taste in music.” you nip again making him yelp. 

“Okay you- ow you win. Your music taste is not all ba- ow okay okay you have good music taste.” He pulls you in for a hug trapping your arms to your sides. 

“Muwahahaha! I knew it. I wiii-. .” You let out a massive yawn. “amm winner.” you yawn again choosing to rest your head on his shoulder. Your body slowly relaxes against him.  

The soft music that was playing the whole time finally reaches his ears. Adam listened to the words and the whole calm vibe that it brought.  

“You know what, this song ain’t that bad. I kinda like it.” Adam waited for a smug comment in reply but when he was met with a light snoring. He smiled softly as he gently arranged your limp body in a way that you wouldn’t wake up in pain later on. He didn’t have the heart to move you off of him. You’d been complaining about severe bouts of insomnia lately this was partially the reason he was with you in the first place. He also didn’t sleep that great either. This was probably another reason he snapped so much at other residents during the mandatory exercises done each day. 

Adam rested his head back on the couch, wondering what stupid thing was planned for today. His thoughts dipping in and out as the song drifts back into his ears.  

‘Maybe it won’t be that bad.’ He shut his eyes focusing on the song and the light snoring against his neck. ‘Just gonna rest my eyes’ he thought. 

----- 

When Charlie arrived in the parlour to set up her morning exercise for the residents, she stopped in her tracks clamping her hands over her mouth to suppress the squeal of joy.  

There on one of the couches sat Adam cradling you against his chest both of you fast asleep. She then hears soft music playing, carefully she picks up the phone to see the song has been playing on repeat for who knows how long. The battery on the phone was almost dead. Placing the device back, she slowly slinks backwards and sets about warding off other residents saying today's exercise has been cancelled and everyone gets the morning off. 

-------

I didn't mean to make it so long and i kinda did a little creative adjustments to your original thought. I hope that is okay??

[revelauver]

⌕ race review!   ֢֢֢ ◝﹝canada [ 06/15/25 ]

🏎️_⠀ gr63, mv1, op81, ka12, lh44, fa14, ln4, cl16, fc43, & aa23 are the quali top 10!

🧍‍♀️

well that happened

if i had a nickel for every time i missed a grand prix and had to catch up watching it on overtakefans many hours later because of a family brunch with my grandparents that started exactly at 11am, i would have two nickels. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice

the starting grid was so fucked up in between quali and the race with the amount of penalties. the highlight, of course, being liam lawson's 50-place grid penalty which actually has me in tears 😭 like genuinely was that necessary

of course the george v. max turn 1 anticipated carnage was all the media could talk about for a span of 24 hours, but george got a great start off the line with max falling cleanly into place right behind

but WAIT

WAIT WAIT WAIT

in a stroke of unprecedented unexpectedness and vengeance for the miami sprint, kimi antonelli overtakes oscar piastri for p3 by sneaking in around the outside within the first three turns

naturally i was freaking tf out fighting the demons (first antonelli podium v. piastri wdc campaign), but little did i know...

the pirelli report: mediums were terrible, softs were scarcely touched, and everyone wanted to be on the hards

i thought i was hallucinating the groundhog corpse because nobody on f1tv mentioned it but NOPE. the literal VEGAN on the grid, LEWIS fucking HAMILTON has actually steamrollered the thing

aaand that's another square on the f1 bingo

the worst/funniest part is lewis actually sustained DAMAGE that affected him throughout the race 💀 of course it's a ferrari driver that suffers because of this

ferrari stats for the weekend include 0 podiums, 1 groundhog killed, 83749748 rumors emerging from the hellfire of italian media, 18 points, at least 3 separate incidents of charles pleading with the strategy team, and 1 aborted plan c

truly a miracle that this team frauded their way into a constructor's p2 for a hot minute (affectionate) while also taking their third consecutive win in le mans

alpines 🤝 mowing the lawn ft. lance stroll (his fault) and alex albon (his fault?)

is that a glimpse of williams era franco i see? 🤔

in other news, the merc--aka the current constructor's p2--actually functions in more than 1 (one) temperature

as proven by george russell playing pit stop ping pong with max verstappen throughout the race and narrowly but confidently maintaining the lead without making any mistakes (once again proving the does nothing -> great result agenda)

both alex and liam retired from pu issues

fernando alonso got a trucker mustache and pace (!!!)

esteban and carlos both scored points on the 1-stop strategy charles mourns

nico hulkenberg apparates into the points for the second race weekend in a row

meanwhile it is important to note that before the race nico ROSBERG took a selfie in front of turn 1

i wonder what that could mean-

a papaya incident. of course it was a papaya incident in turn 1 in the final four laps of the race

so kimi is running in p3, oscar in p4, and lando in p5, all with similar tire conditions. lando reaches the back of oscar in within drs range, and oscar closes that gap to be in kimi's drs range to keep lando behind him

kimi pulls away farther in the cleanest air, oscar is now out of drs range, and lando makes an INSANE move into the hairpin until they're side by side going into the final chicane

oscar goes late on the breaks to keep the lead going into turn 1, and lando goes for a move along the pit straight for a gap that didn't open up so his front wing hits the back of oscar

lando is out of the race, comes on the radio to apologize, and mclaren pr are working overtime to brush everything under the rug while i just KNOW the dts crew is having a field day

and omg lando was having a really great recovery drive from p7 before this too 😭

mclaren PLEASE keep letting them race 🙏 you've got the constructor's locked down and lando and oscar will be good I PROMISEE i cannot promise but pls

cracking up thinking of kimi seeing this shit go down in his mirrors

papaya incident causes a safety car to be deployed for the final laps, and the race finishes under the safety car with a george-max-kimi podium

the absolute villainy between george and max needs to be studied 💀 while the mclaren drivers are falling over their own two feet for each other, THESE mfs will do anything to gain even the slightest advantage (flashback to the legal battle in miami, max's attempted murder in spain, george's recent gaslighting, and we haven't even TOUCHED 2024), making peace only to coparent kimi

the fia stewards took 5 and a half hours to make up their minds on 10+ investigations, only to chuck a 5 second penalty at norris and call it a day

i'm actually in tears the man didn't even finish the race and he gets a 5 second penalty??

thank god for the kimiodium 🙏

contact me @ ⠀꒱⠀ . ⠀ 1-800-hot-n-fun ⠀ —— ⠀ ✧ !

[stabbyfoxandrew]

here for demon neil duty 🫡

WIP Wednesday (7/2) | Demon Neil AU (Part 51)

On Wednesday evening Andrew and his demonic plus one are picked up and driven to the stadium by none other than the two star athletes they're going to see. Kevin had been in the passenger seat when they pulled up but got out and followed Andrew into the backseat so they could talk on the way. As such, the passenger seat is shoved up to the dashboard to accommodate his ridiculous legs and Kevin is yapping a mile a minute about tonight's visiting team. Andrew knows, both from Kevin and from the ExyNews app that he definitely does not have installed on his phone, that the Hawks are a real threat.

They are also the bane of Kevin's existence. He hates how they play, he hates their coach— an ex-Raven several years older than Kevin who was never very nice, and he hates their goddamn uniforms. Red and blue, they look more like a technical difficulty than anything and ruin Kevin's favorite color. He rambles on and on about tonight's game and how much he wants to win.

"Of course I want to win, I always want to win. But I want to actually destroy them tonight, you know? I mean, in a perfect world they'll lose so pathetically tonight they'll all go home and kill themselves so I never have to play them again." Kevin says, ever the good sportsman. Andrew almost wishes he'd said it in front of a camera.

"I'll cross my fingers." Andrew tells him.

"That's a real thing, when you're a witch." Neil chimes in. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet as Kevin laid all his woes at their feet, probably absorbing his every thought. "And you're a witch now."

"Am I?" Andrew thinks.

"Yeah. Sorta. You have the cards and everything." Neil reminds him. Andrew supposes he might have a small point. He'd brought their— his— tarot deck with him, figuring he could flip through them whenever he grew bored of the game. "Absolutely not. If you take your eyes off the court I won't be able to watch."

Andrew sighs internally and agrees to pay attention to the match. Though he thinks he'd rather look at the cards. He'd read up on their meanings before bed last night. In fact he'd been up till almost two o'clock because he was so invested, phone screening burning holes in his brain. Eventually he'd been made to stop, because apparently it was so bright Neil couldn't sleep.

"I think we'll win," Jean says from the driver's seat. "As long as you don't hog the ball like you did in practice yesterday."

"It's not my fault Beady wasn't fast enough to participate." Kevin bites out. Andrew holds in an eye roll. 'Beady' is what Kevin calls his newest teammate. Andrew doesn't care to remember her actual name or anything about her. All he knows is Kevin thinks her eyes are too small for her face, hence Beady. As in beady-eyed.

"I take it Kevin doesn't like her. I hope it doesn't cost them the game." Neil says with a sigh. Andrew catches something else. Something about it being the first game Neil's gone to since he was a child.

The deck hidden in Andrew's jacket calls his name. That is, he has the urge to use them. While the others are occupied, he pulls them out and shuffles before drawing a couple cards. THREE of COINS and FOUR of CUPS, both upright. Hm. He looks at them for a moment, trying to figure out what they mean for Kevin tonight.

"You know what they mean." Neil says helpfully. And sure, Andrew remembers what he read last night but he's not as good at this as Neil.

"He needs to be grateful for his teammates and let them help him. He also needs to stop being so up his own ass. If he hogs the ball, they'll lose." Andrew guesses. Neil hums his agreement and Andrew starts to put the cards away. As he does he registers the conversation has died around him and Kevin is staring at the cards in his lap.

"What're those for?" He asks, making Jean peer into the rear view mirror to ask what he's talking about.

"Nothing." Andrew says, shoving them back where they were. Kevin pulls them out though, violating Andrew's personal bubble. If he were anyone else Andrew would've bit his fingers; maybe he should anyway. Kevin undoes the drawstring on the bag and slides the deck into his hands curiously. He studies the cards intently then seems to realize what they are.

"Oh, don't tell me you're a magician now." 

"What?" Jean asks, turning to look over his shoulder this time. "Oh, the cards. Andrew, you play Tarot? I haven't thought of it in ages."

Play?

"Some people make a game out of them. We do not." Neil says, a bit snippy.

"No, I was reading them. They say Kevin has to stop being up his own ass and let his teammates help him, or you'll lose the game." Andrew says, wresting his cards out of Kevin's soft but calloused hands. That makes Jean laugh and Kevin huff.

"Vindicated by the cards! The universe knows I'm right." Jean says, locking eyes with Kevin in the mirror. "Are you going to let Beady play tonight is it going to be Kevin Day's one man show?"

"Oh, shut up." Kevin has his arms crossed now, like a petulant child. Andrew rolls his eyes.

"Andrew, draw another. Tell us what it's going to be." Jean says. Andrew's instinct is to flip him off and refuse, but he remembers what Neil had told him last night and decides to be the bigger person— in spirit. He takes the cards back out and shuffles before pulling one. He holds up the NINE of WANDS, upside down. And Neil laughs in his head.

"According to this he'll be incredibly stubborn," Andrew tells Jean, who looks delighted. TEMPERANCE is the other card. Andrew stares at it for a long moment. "But then he'll get over it and things will be alright?"

"I'd say that sounds about right," Jean says with a smile Andrew can hear, but not see.

"I hope so. I don't wanna watch a shitty game where he loses." Neil mumbles. No game could ever be shit when Kevin is playing. Even when he loses, it's still a good match. But Andrew will never admit that.

Kevin sighs. "Okay, okay. Am I supposed to tip you now, fortune teller?"

"Yes. Give me fifty bucks, stadium nachos are expensive."

---

The cards are right.

Three minutes out from halftime, they're trailing by two points and Kevin's been pretending he's the only striker on court, taking risky bullshit shots instead of passing. Andrew is seated one row behind the home bench and when Moreau gets subbed out he drops into his seat and turns himself backwards to look at Andrew.

"Seems like you were right." He says, loud enough to be heard over the crowd. "About the first part anyway. The jury is still out on him gaining any sense."

"I think your Coach is about to ensure he does." Andrew tells him, making Jean laugh as he turns back around. He's sort of good looking when he's smiling. Maybe after Coach Morales strangles Kevin to death Andrew'll swoop in on Jean. Neil laughs at the thought and then asks,

"Can we get a hot dog?"

"The concessions will be hell at halftime." Regardless he finds himself charging up the steps the moment the buzzer sounds in a race against seven bazillion other Jaguars fans. He manages to get back to their seat before the second half starts up though, hotdog and soda unscathed. He sets them down and gets out his phone to see a text from Kevin.

I hate your cards, he says. Andrew rolls his eyes and stuffs his phone back in his pocket. He feeds Neil their hotdog, and watches Kevin run around in his short shorts until the match is over. The camera operator for the Jumbotron zooms in on Kevin's grinning face after Beady, whose jersey reads MCGEE, makes the winning goal and Andrew smiles with him.

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Abu Dhabi 2016

-Brocedes divorce??

-Carlos is p21??

-Aww this is Button and Massa’s last race

-“Just follow his man home” They just want to create the allegations at this point

-14th front row lockout, 7 1-2s for Mercedes (interestinggg, also pretty cool)

-Longest season on record?

-Oh shit Max spun

-Oh wow the commentary for turn 1 is intense

-Finallyyyy a proper leaderboard

-P19 Max 😢

-I miss Daniel having a good car

-The leaderboard is gone again

-I love that wheel to wheel action

-He’s p12 now

-Poor Kevin

-Bottas retirement too?

-I like this circuit

-Knew he’d make it to points

-It’s so weird seeing a good Mercedes pit stop strategy (like what happened to them now??)

-At least Ferrari has been consistently bad ig

-What would happen if Brocedes took themselves out here? Does Nico just win because he’s leading?

-The hell is “the lollipop man”

-Haha Max is actually such a menace to Nico

-No wonder Red Bull signed Checo, he actually defends really well

-Oh no!! Jenson!! That would be such a bad ending to a retirement 😢😢

-What’s with these last two races having drivers retire with emotional endings

-Are they not getting it back out??

-Aww his mom

-Poor Daniil

-Ohh I just realized why Max is holding Nico off

-Poor Nico really just got stuck between the fight between Red Bull and Ferrari

-Oh come on Daniel

-That was a pretty cool Nico overtake

-Max playing the team game is not what I was expecting

-The pit crew fist bumping is adorable

-The way this was supposed to be a Brocedes war but somehow Nico is more worried about Max

-The fact that he somehow went from p19 to p2 to hold Nico off and now he’s in p8 like??

-Yayy undercut

-He’s p5 now!

-“Red Bull have just outsmarted Ferrari” and not for the last time

-Okay how does anyone understand radios without subtitles

-I’m so sorry Carlos, I forgot you were in this race

-Oh wow I’m actually being impressed by Checo rn

-Good one from Daniel tho

-Max is really just Nico’s personal demon isn’t he

-“Box box box”

-“What a recovery that’s been” indeed

-Props to Mercedes pit crew

-Why is Paris Hilton hereee

-Aww that’s really sad about Jenson

-“I’ll try my best to find that (joy) somewhere else” I hope he has

-The way these people went from praising Verstappen to villainizing him needs to be studied

-“What position am I in?” Do the drivers just not know until someone tells them? Actually stupid question, them not knowing makes sense

-Aww kinda wanted Vettel to go till the end

-Does Lewis win this race and just not the championship?

Cause it’s kinda underwhelming not winning the race but winning a championship isn’t it?

-Manifesting Max podium ✨

-Just hit me that I’m watching cars race, what has my life become

-Yay Carlos is back!

-Lapping cars must be so annoying

-Oh no Carlos!! Whyyy!

-It would be a shame if he retired now

-Aah bad day to be Toro Rosso

-“Here comes the cavalry” that was cold

-I like when they call Daniel the “last of the late breakers”

-I spoke too soon, Ferrari made a comeback

-Do I unmanifest the Max podium?

-Once again wondering if Nico loses and still wins cause whaaat

-ALSO BRING IN RADIO SUBTITLES

-Sebastian podiummm???

-The way Max is somehow helping Nico rn by holding Seb back

-Sebastian Podium!!!!

-No way this becomes a Ferrari win right?

-I have no idea what’s happening with Lewis rn

-3 more lapsss

-Ooh Nico’s wifeee

-This inter-team tension is crazy

-Ohmygod I can’t believe Lewis is going to win this

-“I’m losing a world championship so I want to win this race” Woah

-Aaaah no way Nico wins a championship with a p3

-Brocedes divorce.

-This is so stressfullll

-Let’s go Nico!!!!

-That was a great race!!

-Aww all the drivers waving is really cute

-Awww his wifeee, that’s adorable

-Massa radio 😢

-Donuts!!

-NR6!!!

-Aww Sebastian hug

-Still bizarre to me that he won from p2 (I really need to learn how the point system works)

-The podium has 9 wc combined (pretty cool)

-Aaaaah Lewis and Seb just talking and him not making eye contact with Nico

-Seb just reveling in the tension

-Sebastian is so cute, bring him back

-I had way too much to say for this race

- (Had to scream into my pillow) Brocedes are so messy

- Aww he dedicated his win to his wife

- He’s cryingggg

- I wish I got to see Sebastian race in real time 😭

- They’re really asking for the drama

- “It was tough to beat you” 😭😭

- What is this tension ? I will die

- NR6!! Deserved!! 🎉🎉

[giggly-squiggily]

hellooo miss squiggles :D how have you been? i hope the universe treats you kindly ♡ (also i got your request and i'm so excites to write it thank you sm!!)

i'm here to bring you more modern demon slayer because i wanna get back into it and also my car has decided to be difficult these past few days so i thought about how the kny peeps would deal with that.

not affected by car troubles: gyomei (for obvious reasons), douma (failed his driver's license four times so there's that), rengoku (something tells me he doesn't drive)

that might as well happen: giyuu (long sigh, then he calls sabito to pick him up and lets the mechanic deal with it), obanai ("that's just another bad thing on the long list of bad things that life has thrown at me." - "dude shut up")

OMG WE'RE STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE: mitsuri (not cut out for this)

THERE'S LITERALLY A MCDONALDS DOWN THE ROAD CALM DOWN AND LET ME DO MY SHIT: sanemi (learned how to fix his motorcycle on his own after he saw what the mechanics charged)

gets so mad that they scare the car into working again: shinobu (she just taps the wheel twice and clears her throat and the car runs as smoothly as ever), akaza (the good old trick of kicking the car into submission never disappoints)

the best possible person to deal with car troubles: kanae (keep calm and call someone who can fix this), sabito (this man works with elementary school children, if his car broke down in the middle of the desert with no water on board that wouldn't even make his top 10 list of most stressful events of his life)

oh the car broke down? don't worry baby we'll buy a new one: tengen.

Rey! It's great to hear from you again! :D I've been well- some ups and downs IRL but generally speaking I feel great! I hope the same to you! The universe so far has been tame- let's hope it stays that way lols. (YESH! I'm so glad akrekjjrkaejj :D Congrats again on your milestone!)

(Ah crap! I'm sorry about your car- hopefully everything works out!)

KJERKJEKRJKEJR The fact they're all in the same car (sans Sabito I'd imagine cause someone's gotta come pick them up) reacting to this is hilarious akljeajkerjkaejr Road trip gone wrong?

Giyu and Obanai being the "Hello darkness my old friend" people of the group is so canon kjaraekrkejajkraejkrjkejr Obanai probably wouldn't be so bad if Mitsuri was there but when she does go off with Tengen and Rengoku to get her food he gets all blue and gloomy about everything akerjakrjearje (The "Dude, shut up" took me out! I can see Sanemi rolling his eyes behind the hood over it akerkjaerjkej)

NOT SHINOBU HELP KJEJREJRKJEJKRJK Like you said, a single throat clear- BOOM the car is back up and running. She probably scares the mechanics out of overcharging her too- a single one of her scary smiles and their offering discounts and additions for free (everyone brings her to the shop with them when they can- she's outwardly so over it but internally pleased with the chaos she creates). And Akaza kicking it into submission karjeajklrkjeawkjrjke I can see Douma lounging in the backseat slurping on a gas station slushie watching Akaza beat his car up. "Go between the headlights- it'll blind them Za!" "Give them that one move you showed me the other day!" "You're winning-" "DOUMA IF YOU DON'T-"

Kanae and Sabito being team "We've got this" is honestly such canon events! Kanae and Sanemi might have some mild tension ("Baby, it's not your bike, it's your car. It's too different." "Don't worry about it- I can fix it!" But after Sanemi stares at things long enough he just kinda peers around the hood all sheepish like: "So uh....you still got that mechanic on speed dial?" Sabito's so chill like: "A kid got 2 markers stuck up one nostril- this is EASY!" He has snacks when he gets there for Mitsuri, a car big enough for everyone if it's a road trip (might bring Makomo and her car in case they got EVERYONE), the tow truck on speed dial and several ideal spots to stop and get dinner if they're hungry akejajrekreakj

TENGEN!!! God, if only kjakakrjejkrejkjre He's got the money for it sure! Honestly he probably hates driving (Big guy + Tiny seats = Screw it I'm walking everywhere) but will gladly get any of his girlfriends/wives a new car if needed. Another one to bring to the mechanic to prevent being screwed over- he's got that unintentional intimidation factor (and the money to cover it lols) He's also such a troll: One time he told Obanai he'd get him so new wheels and pulled up with a toy barbie car. (They ended up regifting it to Mitsuri's younger sister as a christmas present)

For your consideration: Rengoku doesn't drive but he does bike! He's got two: one for personal use to go everywhere ("I'll catch up with you guys! *bike jingle noises*) and one with two seats for when he and Akaza go out (He was absolutely FLOORED when he discovered it and called up Akaza mid purchase like: "Guess what I'm bringing home??? :D") He probably got them matching helmets and protective padding so they'd be the talk of the town when they went out (Akaza doesn't have the heart to tell him they look like that one elderly couple without the years- though it was kinda funny the time said couple challenged them to a race.) He'd have a little basket too filled with snacks and other little things. :D

Thank you for sharing, these are GLORIOUS!

[bsigafoos2005]

The 2023 Season, and the unfortunate luck of the Hendrick Motorsports #48 Ally Racing Team.

(First rant on here so don’t expect much)

Alex Bowman, some call him a hack, some similarly, also call him unworthy of piloting one of the most famous numbers in NASCAR.

To be fair to y’all, he has had some MAJOR fuckups this year, most recently coming at the Darlington Raceway in Darlington, South Carolina this past Labor Day Weekend, when while battling TrackHouse Racing Driver Daniel Suarez, Alex blocked aggressively, twice, and wrecked him and Daniel both, costing them BOTH the race, after what looked up to that point to be a solid weekend for the 48 team after barely missing the playoffs the week before in Daytona. Now he did apologize afterward via social media, but fans continue to heckle him, week after week.

Let us not forget however, that this same Alex Bowman was docked 60 points earlier in the season for something entirely out of his control, which shoved him back around 30th in points, and most likely is the reason he didn’t make the playoffs when it came down to Daytona two weeks ago now. ALSO on that note, I can’t forget his back injury which sidelined him for 5 weeks in the midseason, where the 48 team (without him there mind y’all) was good enough to win on multiple occasions, I’ll list some now:

- Dover, Josh Berry, the fill-in for Bowman, raced the 48 to a top-10 finish. Could’ve very well been a win had Alex been there given he won there in 2021 (I know, different car, but same track)

- North Wilkesboro (All-Star Race), Berry rolled the 48 home to a top-15, again I feel like with Bowman, that would’ve been a lot better, given the unpredictability of the track since it hadn’t been raced on by cup cars in half a century up to that night.

After his return, Bowman put on some really good performances at races, I’ll highlight the HighPoint 400 @ Pocono Raceway, where up until he practically got dumped by Denny Hamlin at the end of the day, he was up front.

Alex, given everything he’s been through this year, doesn’t deserve the hate he’s getting. As a 48 fan I’ve watched that man come back from fighting the worst demons that he’s probably ever faced, only to watch him get shit-talked on socials for not being good after he got back for a while because he was out of the car for a month.

Alex has won before, MANY times, and does not, because of one or two errors this season, in my opinion, deserve the hate he’s getting for everything he’s had to put up with. The 48 team will be back with a vengeance in 2024, and then? That cup is theirs.

[aroyaltailor]

@andact1on lmao

My (the mun’s) thoughts on the muses:

He's cute. I only remembered him from the Hazbin Hotel pilot as "the taxi driver" before I really got into the Hellaverse properly, and I've seen some of your writings in my dash before. Side characters don't often get much attention compared to the big named characters, that's always been the case, but now that I'm going to be able to be more active I'm excited to see more about how you've made Travis your own.

Favorite part of our muses interactions:

We've not interacted quite yet. Not YET. But I'd be happy to >:3 Just reach out to me, we can talk on discord or something

A wish/plot I’d like to do with our characters:

Oh, just a little arranged meeting of sorts. Perhaps Travis could win a lottery being held amongst Valentino's crew. An appointment with the Royal Tailor himself, who I hc as having had a few interactions with Valentino and Overlords in general before. A good opportunity to make the poor sinner squirm, could be fun. That, or maybe meeting when Parak hires them to take him somewhere? I assume the taxi driving is a sidegig. I still owe a bunch of replies, and I'm in PA, so I can't start anything quite yet, but reach out to me! We can [scheme]

My muses opinion of your muse(s):

The Tailor grimaced at the photo, before dismissively flicking it out of his hand.

It was a Polaroid of some sort, so the quality could have been better, but the image was still good enough for him to briefly evaluate the supposed avian. This one seemed to dress properly, at least; the trench coat was a nice touch. Parak assumed that it was filthy – as the clothes of sinners usually were – but that could be overlooked. Outfits could be changed; the body beneath could not.

Parak grimaced again as he squinted down at the photo, there where it had landed on the flat of his desk after he'd let it go. His scarlet eyes, the lower pair larger than the upper, narrowed with a scalpel focus.

There were many sinners that resembled the majestic, feathered demons of the Ars Goetia such as himself, to a degree. The demonic bodies of the condemned were a reflection of their very souls, it was said, which to Parak had always explained why many of them were so hideous. This one did not fall into that category. But the lack of beak and set of sharpened teeth in its place was unnerving to him. Avians had beaks. Not rows of triangular teeth that could sink like daggers into squirming flesh. Beaks paired with the feathers, and without that combo Parak dismissed the sinner as just another freak...

Nevertheless, he slipped the polaroid into a nearby drawer, to be reviewed at a later time. One could never have too many informants, after all.

[storytimewithnova]

Shattered Promises: Love's Mosaic

Chapter 1: The Tragic Accident

Kuroo stood frozen on the side of the road, shock and disbelief coursing through his veins. His heart pounded against his chest, threatening to burst out from the intense pain it held. It felt as if the world had come crashing down around him, shattering into broken pieces.

The car that was supposed to carry his beloved Chibi-chan to the church was now a mangled mess. The blaring sirens of the emergency vehicles filled the air, drowning out Kuroo's anguished screams. The drunk driver who had carelessly smashed into their wedding day, taking away his happiness in an instant.

As the reality sank in, tears streamed down Kuroo's face, mixing with the rain that started pouring down from the heavens. The happiest day of his life had turned into a nightmare beyond his worst fears. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest, feeling as though his heart had shattered along with the car.

Chapter 2: The Healing Presence

Months passed, and Kuroo found himself drowning in a sea of grief and despair. It was during this dark time that Tooru, Shoyo's older brother, became an unexpected source of solace. Tooru spent his days at Kuroo's side, providing much-needed comfort and companionship.

Tooru would often come over to Kuroo and Shoyo's house, helping him sort through the memories that haunted every corner. He would listen patiently to Kuroo's stories about Shoyo, offering a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on. Through their shared pain, a bond began to form between them.

Together, they visited Shoyo's grave, finding solace in the peacefulness of the cemetery. Kuroo looked into Tooru's eyes and made a silent promise to his beloved Chibi-chan. He vowed to keep living, to find happiness again, and to honor Shoyo's memory.

Chapter 3: Unexpected Love

As time went on, Kuroo and Tooru's bond grew deeper. They found solace and understanding in each other's company, and a spark ignited within their hearts. Kuroo, who believed he would never love again, found himself torn between guilt and the possibility of happiness.

Tooru, too, was struggling with his own demons. He had been in an abusive and toxic relationship with Iwaizumi for far too long. He made the courageous decision to break free from that toxic cycle, realizing that he deserved to find true happiness.

One fateful evening, Tooru confessed his feelings to Kuroo, his voice filled with vulnerability. He told him that he wanted to honor the promise he made to his baby brother and be there for him, even if it meant breaking his heart again.

Chapter 4: A Promise of Love

Kuroo hesitated, his heart torn between loyalty to Shoyo and the growing affection he felt for Tooru. But in Tooru's eyes, he saw a flicker of warmth and something he thought he had lost forever – love.

He took Tooru's hand in his, letting go of the guilt and pain that had consumed him for so long. Together, they made a silent vow to cherish each other and create a new path, one that would intertwine their broken pieces and heal their wounded souls.

Kuroo stood before Shoyo's grave once again, this time with a renewed sense of hope. He whispered under his breath, "In another life, my Chibi-chan, we will find each other again and make it down that aisle. Even if I have to break all tradition and drive you there myself."

As the wind gently brushed against Kuroo's face, carrying the echo of Shoyo's laughter, he felt a sense of peace. The broken pieces of his heart were slowly starting to mend, and he knew that with Tooru by his side, they would find happiness once again.

Chapter 5: Love's Resilience

Kuroo and Tooru's love story unfolded with both tenderness and resilience. They faced their fair share of challenges and obstacles, but their unwavering commitment to each other pushed them forward.

Tooru's decision to leave Iwaizumi was not without consequences. The toxic ex-boyfriend relentlessly tried to win him back, unleashing a wave of harassment and threats. However, Tooru stood firm, determined to protect himself and to build a future with Kuroo that he never had the chance to realize with Shoyo.

Kuroo, on the other hand, struggled with guilt. He often found himself questioning whether he was betraying Shoyo's memory by falling in love with his brother. Yet, with every passing day, Tooru's love and support comforted him, reaffirming that their bond was something separate, something new.

Chapter 6: A New Beginning

As their love deepened, Kuroo and Tooru decided it was time to start anew. They left behind the memories and the pain that haunted their old home and moved into a place they could call their own. It was a symbolic step towards healing and building a future together.

In their new home, Kuroo and Tooru created a sanctuary where love and joy thrived. They decorated the walls with pictures of Shoyo, honoring his memory and keeping him forever close to their hearts. Every now and then, they would share stories about him, keeping his spirit alive in their lives.

They also pursued their individual dreams and passions. Kuroo continued his studies in architecture, pouring his heart into creating beautiful structures that would stand the test of time. Tooru, on the other hand, found solace in art, pouring his emotions onto the canvas, creating masterpieces that reflected his journey of healing and love.

Chapter 7: Love's Legacy

Kuroo and Tooru's love not only became a source of strength for themselves but also inspired those around them. They became advocates for healthy relationships, raising awareness about domestic abuse and the importance of self-love.

Tooru shared his story of leaving an abusive relationship, empowering others to break free from toxic cycles. Kuroo, with his gentle presence and unwavering support, became a symbol of resilience and the healing power of love.

Their love story touched hearts and gave hope to those who felt broken and lost. Kuroo and Tooru became beacons of love, reminding everyone that even in the face of tragedy, it was possible to find happiness again.

Chapter 8: A Promise Fulfilled

Years passed, and Kuroo and Tooru found themselves celebrating their love once more. This time, they stood together at the altar, surrounded by friends and family who had witnessed their journey and supported them every step of the way.

As they exchanged their vows, Kuroo's voice trembled with emotions, "My beloved Chibi-chan, even though you are not physically here with us, your spirit continues to guide us. And today, as I marry your brother, I know you are smiling down on us, knowing that your promise has been fulfilled."

The room filled with tears of joy, as everyone present felt the weight of their love and the unbreakable bond that had formed among them. Kuroo and Tooru kissed, sealing their love with a promise to honor Shoyo's memory and live a life filled with happiness.

And as they danced their first dance together as husbands, the broken pieces of their past had transformed into a mosaic of love, resilience, and a future as bright as the sunrise.

Chapter 9: Embracing Life, Together

The years rolled by like a gentle breeze, carrying with them moments of joy, laughter, and love. Kuroo and Tooru navigated the twists and turns of life side by side, their love growing stronger with each passing day. They faced triumphs and tribulations as a team, never wavering in their commitment to one another.

Their love story became an inspiration, as they began counseling sessions for individuals who had experienced loss or abusive relationships. They poured their hearts into helping others rebuild their lives, offering guidance, support, and a glimmer of hope.

Amidst their advocacy work, Kuroo and Tooru found solace in their shared hobbies. They traveled the world, exploring breathtaking landscapes, immersing themselves in different cultures, and creating memories that surpassed their wildest dreams. Each trip, they left a piece of Shoyo's spirit in the places they visited, ensuring he would forever be a part of their adventures.

Chapter 10: A Legacy of Love

As they approached their twilight years, Kuroo and Tooru's love remained as resilient as ever. They had managed to heal the broken pieces of their hearts, building a life founded on love, compassion, and acceptance. Their relationship became a testament to the power of love's ability to mend the deepest wounds.

Surrounded by their loved ones, Kuroo and Tooru sat by a crackling fireplace, the warmth mirroring the love that filled the room. Their eyes twinkled with shared memories and a quiet contentment that comes from a life well-lived.

In that moment, Kuroo turned to his beloved husband, placing a weathered hand on his cheek. "Tooru, my love," he spoke softly, his voice carrying the weight of a lifetime together, "thank you for teaching me that love can mend even the most broken of hearts. Our journey has been filled with joy, sorrow, and everything in between. Now, as we embrace the golden years, I want you to know that I am eternally grateful for the love we have shared."

Tooru's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he engulfed Kuroo's hand in his own. "Kuroo, my everything," he whispered, his voice filled with a lifetime's worth of love, "I am thankful every day for the incredible love we have forged. Together, we have overcome the darkest of nights and celebrated the brightest of days. Our love has become a beacon of hope for those who have lost their way. I am forever grateful for you, my love."

And as they shared a tender kiss, a sense of completeness washed over them. Their love had transcended time, proving that healing was possible, even amid shattered dreams and broken pieces. In that moment, they realized that their story was not just about their love for each other but also about the transformative power of love itself.

Epilogue: Love's Mosaic

The story of Kuroo and Tooru, titled "Love's Mosaic," became an enduring legend whispered in the hearts of many. Their journey reminded people that love could triumph over any tragedy, and that even in the face of shattered hopes, new beginnings were possible.

Their legacy lived on, not only through the memories shared by those whose lives they touched but in the countless lives that were mended as a result of their love and advocacy. The broken pieces that had once defined their lives had been transformed into a mosaic of love, resilience, and the unwavering commitment to never give up on happiness, no matter the obstacles.

And as the sun set on their lives, Kuroo and Tooru held hands, finding solace in knowing that their love story would continue to inspire future generations, reminding them that hope was always within reach, waiting to heal the broken pieces and create something beautiful.

[mythos-writes]

Spitfire

Alfie Solomons x Shelby! Reader

Plot: (Y/N) Shelby, a force to be reckoned with in the Peaky Blinders. When the boys decided to go to London to meet a new business partner, she catches the attention of a certain gang leader

Word Count: 2262

Warning: Swearing, smoking, Peaky Blinders level of violence

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

I do not give permission for anyone to repost/ post my stories, with or without credit. Reblogs, comments, etc. are more than welcomed, but please DO NOT copy and paste my stories that you may like onto another platform.

(Y/N) Shelby. Younger sister to Arthur, twin sister to Tommy, and older sister to John, Ada and Finn. With Tommy being 7 minutes older, he always holds it over her. Sometimes with twins, they can be either complete opposites or the same person. She was very similar to her twin, but, had Arthur’s anger. When the Peaky Blinders were becoming well known, (Y/N) was viewed as an angel among demons. But, when anyone had pushed her over her boundaries, she made her brothers look like angels. But she is very useful when it comes to negotiations with new business partners. 

“So why are we going to London again?” she questions while walking out to the car. 

“We are meeting up with Alfie,” Tommy says, getting into the driver's seat. 

“Alfie?” she questions. 

“Right, you skipped out on the first meeting, Alfie Solomons, he runs the gang that's out of Camden,” Tommy states. 

“I didn’t skip, I wasn’t feeling well that morning,” she states. 

“Yeah and it had nothing to do with you and Arthur having a drinking contest at all,” Tommy looks at her, knowing the truth. (Y/N) just crosses her arms over her chest, letting Tommy win this bout. 

Once they get on the road, she lights a cigarette and looks over at her twin.  

“I know that look, what are you thinking,” Tommy asks, his eyes not leaving the road. 

“Why do I have to come with you this time? Is there something up with this Solomons guy?” she questions, taking another drag of the tobacco stick. 

“I just want you to do a double-check on him. I know that you can be very persuasive and thorough look into his books,” he says, looking over to her quickly. She nods before finishing her smoke, flicking the bud out the window. She leans back into the seat and pulls her cap over her eyes. 

“Wake me when we get there,” she says, smiling a little when she hears a small chuckle leave Tommy’s lips. 

(Y/N) was dead asleep when all of a sudden the passenger side door flew open, causing her to fall out of the car. She groaned out in pain, giving Tommy a deadly look. 

“You told me to wake you when we arrived. We've arrived,” he says. She sighs while getting up, fixing herself before placing her hat back on her head and grabbing her coat. 

“You are lucky we are doing business right now cause you would have a black eye right about now,” she says while they walk towards the bakery. 

“I don’t doubt that one bit,” he says before entering the building. They walk in and see a few people working. 

“Hello, what can I do for you?” one worker asks. 

“We are here to see Mr. Solomons,” (Y/N) states, making sure they got every syllable. Before the worker could get a word in, Alfie walks through the backdoor of the bakery. 

“Ahhh, Thomas, shalom. And who is this?” he asks, looking (Y/N) up and down. 

“Hello Alfie, this would be my sister, (Y/N). (Y/N), this Mr. Alfie Solomons,” Tommy introduces. (Y/N) stepped closer, sticking her hand out. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Solomons,” she says, a smile crossing her face. Tommy knew what she was doing, she was giving him the sweet side of her, to see if he will get burned. 

“The pleasure is all mine, love,” he says, flirting a little. 

“She is here to double-check your books, knowing that Arthur and John aren’t the strongest with them,” Tommy states, not liking the flirty responce he gave.  

“Right this way then,” Alfie says, showing him to his office. As they walked by the brew tanks, she was impressed with his operations. They walk into his office, getting to books. 

“We will leave you to this, I have some other business to talk to Mr. Solomons about,” Tommy says, looking at Alfie. She nods before checking over his work, making sure it was up to par. 

A little while later, she emerges from the office, very pleased with the way the books were balanced. 

“So how do they look?” Tommy asks, seeing his sister walking towards them. 

"Everything looks good, our meatheads of brothers did well,” she says, making jabs at her brothers who were back in Birmingham. 

“See, nothing to worry about,” Alfie says, sending a wink toward her. She smiles back, feeling her cheeks heat up. No one normally gave her this type of attention, let alone looks at her back home, so the attention from Alfie was nice. 

Tommy started to talk to Alfie again, trying to include her in their previous conversation about some plans. But she became distracted when she heard some words that she didn’t like at all. (Y/N) tuned out of Alfie’s and Tommy’s words and focused on the two workers behind them, talking about herself and her family. She turned at the words of the workers.

“Do you want to say that again?” she yells out, not only getting the worker's attention, but also the two gangsters' attention as well. The two workers don’t respond, so she moves closer. 

  “I’m talking to you two gits, and when I ask a question I expect an fucking answer. So I am going to ask again, do you want to repeat yourselves,” she spits, venom slowly forming in her words. The two shake their heads, not wanting to anger her more. She went to go back towards her brother, but more words were spilled.

“A real basket case this one,” one says. She quickly turned around and landed a clean punch on the man. He holds his face and falls to the ground. The other one went to attack but she pulled out her gun, aiming at his head. 

“Do you want to be worse off than your friend?” he quickly shakes his head. “That’s what I thought,” she spits.  

“That’s enough (Y/N),” Tommy yells, not fazed at all at her reaction. She puts her gun away, then quickly punches the other one in the face, before walking out of the building. 

“Bloody hell, a spitfire that one is,” Alfie says, his gaze not moving. 

“Trust me mate, she makes us look like angels,” Tommy says while the two watch (Y/N) walking out.

A couple of weeks later, Tommy sent (Y/N) back to London to check in on Alfie. His thinking is that Alfie would probably like having her around the bakery rather than himself.

“Hello Alfie,” she says, seeing the gangster walking towards her. 

“Hello my dear,” he says, bringing her into a hug. “I am assuming you are here for business," he asks.

“By orders of Mr. Thomas Shelby himself,” she jokes. A smile makes its way across his face before moving them towards his office. 

“So what does your brother want?” he asks, sitting behind his desk, taking in the older Shelby sister. She was dressed very similarly to their first meeting, her hair braided back, dark grey suit jacket and slacks, a white dress shirt, her flat cap, and some dress shoes. 

“Wanted to make sure the whiskey order will be shipping out on time,” she says, sitting down in one of the chairs placed across from him. 

“Does he not trust me with my time management skills,” he says, putting on a sad face. She laughs and shakes her head. 

“No, he just wants to be safe than sorry,” she says, leaning forward a little.

“Tommy should stop worrying, but, if he sends you every time he gets worried, then I wouldn’t mind it,” Alfie flirts. 

“Oh please,” she deflects, trying to hide her blushed face from view.

“How bout this, you make sure that everything is moving smoothly, and then I get to take you out,” he says, leaning his arms against the desk. 

“Are you asking me on a date Mr. Solomons?” she asks, raising a brow at his offer. 

“It can be anything that you want Ms. Shelby,” he replies with a smile. 

“Let's get this look over started so we can get that date started,” she says with a smile. Alfie returns it before making his way towards the door.

"After you," he says holding the door open.

"Oh, what a gentleman," she says, flirting back.  

Alfie and (Y/N) relationship has grown quickly and secretly. None of the other Shelby siblings knew, even Polly. She knew Polly would tell them and blow her chance at this. She would go to London almost every weekend, even if there was no business needed in London. Of course, her brothers were a little suspicious of her intentions with all the trips, but none ever questioned her. Polly tried but was quickly shut down. 

But it all came to a head when Tommy called (Y/N) into his office. Usually, he never has any issues with his sister, so when John told her that Tommy wanted her in his office, she got nervous. She gets to his door and walks in, not bothering to knock. 

“Sit,” he orders, not looking up from the letter in his hands. This shocked her as he normally greeted her when she entered his office. It quickly dawned on her, Tommy was mad. He lights a cigarette and just stares at her. 

“What’s this?” he questions showing her the letter. 

“Well, obviously it’s a letter,” she states, trying to lighten the mood, It didn’t work too well. 

“I am being serious (Y/N). Why is Alfie Solomons sending you mail?” he digs, wanting an answer. (Y/N) was thinking of an answer, but she couldn’t think of one. 

“Well?” her eyes met his, his body language said anger, but his eyes held protectiveness and concern. 

“We had dinner when I was in London one time, and we kinda hit it off…” she trails off, fidgeting with her rings. Tommy rolled his eyes and threw the letter onto his desk.  He lit a cigarette, before studying her again. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I know men like him and they aren’t good men,” he states. 

“I know,” she says. Tommy was quite shocked at her reaction. He was expecting her to throw it right back into his face, like normal, but (Y/N) sat there like a child getting scolded. 

“But he isn’t scared of me. Everyone here is scared and intimidated by me, but Alfie isn’t,” she defends. 

“(Y/N),” Tommy tries to but in. “No. You, Arthur, and John all got to run around with different girls and got to experience some sort of relationship and love. What did I get, three over-protective brothers who scared off anyone who showed an inch of interest in me! Ay, even Finn had a girlfriend before I have a boyfriend!”

 ‘There’s my sister’ Tommy thought. “Alfie is the first person who is clearly not afraid of you or what comes with someone who comes with the Shelby name,” she says, now standing eye to eye with her twin.

(Y/N) didn’t want to hear another word from Tommy, she quickly grabbed the letter before walking out of his office, slamming the door while she left. She walked through the betting shop, eyes on her angry form. 

“What are you all staring at?!” she yells. All attention quickly leaves her. “That's what I bloody thought,” she muttered as she walks out to the streets of Birmingham. She dug out a cigarette and quickly lit it. Leaning back against the brick wall, she opened the letter, reading over Alfie’s words.  

(Y/N) hears the door beside her open and a shadow cast over her. She sighs, taking another drag of her smoke, not looking up. “Tommy you better fuck off right now. I am not in the mood to see you right now,” she says. 

“Well then, if that’s how you feel, I’ll just fuck off back to London,” a familiar voice says. Se quickly looks up to see Alfie standing in front of her. 

“Alfie!” she squeaks before jumping into his arms. He spun her around, enjoying the embrace. 

“What are you doing here?” she questions, most time she would meet him in London, not the other way around in Small Heath.  

“Thought it would be my turn to come to visit and come do some business with your brother. A win-win I’d fucking say,” he says, keeping the oldest Shelby sister close.  She looks into his ocean blue eyes, quickly glancing at his lips. Alfie catches the que and leans down to meet her lips. She felt sparks run through her as Alfie deepen the kiss. Before it could go any farther, someone cleared their throat. They broke apart and see Thomas standing by the door. He lights another cigarette, looking over the couple. He points at Alfie. 

“You’re serious about ‘er?” he questions. 

“I am,” Alfie states, not giving in. Tommy nods, taking another drag of his smoke.

“Don’t break her heart, or you’ll have the lot of us after you,” he states pointing to the London gangster. “And you, don’t break his face when you’re arguing,” he says pointing to his twin. (Y/N) rolls her eyes at her twins' words. 

“ Breaking my face?” Alfie questions, looking down at her. 

“I might have broken John’s nose once or twice when we have had arguments,” she comments, causing Alfie to laugh. 

“You’re a real spitfire aren’t ya.”

[meltwonu]

24. “Behave.”

58. “If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning?”

notes; racer/street-racing!au, dom!jeonghan, enemies!au kinda, blowjobs, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, some good ‘ol pussy slappin, size kink, edging, hair pulling! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS ANGELIC DEMON!! 🥂 🥳💕 Figured I should save Jeonghan for his bday hehe~ 😏 And glad it actually landed on a drabble post day too dkfhkdsjh sometimes i forget and then it’s all out of whack but i’m glad i remembered for once LOL 😭💕 As always, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

*queued post.

“Well? Take your pick, babygirl, I don’t have all night.”

You grit your teeth - hands balled up into fists by your side as Jeonghan stands by the driver’s side of his car with his arms outstretched in a nonchalant manner.

“Fuck you.”

“Well,” He starts, “We can, if you want? I’m not the one who preemptively told people I’d win that race… Which, last I checked, you just lost to, oh, that’s right, me.”

Jeonghan chuckles even harder when he sees how flustered you get with his words and he starts to walk towards you when  he sees you make no effort to comment back.

“Well? Maybe if you do something for me, I’ll let you say you beat me.” He licks his lips; eyes flitting up and down your body as he drinks you in. “Nobody was here to see it anyway, baby. I can lie for you if you wanna play~ Don’t you want the notoriety that you beat me? The respect you’ll get from other racers that you beat one of the best?”

“Can’t I just lie and say I won then? Who’s gonna check?” Muttering, you step closer and closer to your own car as he advances on you.

Your back presses into the cold metal as Jeonghan stops just a foot away - hands in the pockets of his jeans as he shrugs.

“Aww, that’s cute you think I wouldn’t swoop in and tell everyone otherwise. C’mon, play a game with me, baby~ It wouldn’t be the first time we played anyway~ And I feel like being nice tonight which, let’s be honest, doesn’t happen often.”

And Jeonghan is right.

He’d never let anyone say they beat him and he was willing to give you a free pass for just a small price.

And the bragging rights might just been enough for you.

“What do you want to play then?”

Jeonghan lets out a soft grunt followed by a chuckle - hands locked in your hair as he guides your head down onto his cock.

“Fuck, you can barely fit me into your mouth, baby… Mm, it feels so good and tight~ Makes me miss your pussy so much~”

You wrap your lips around his thick girth and hollow out your cheeks when he starts to shallowly thrust into your mouth - hands linked behind your back as you do your best to relax yourself when the head of his cock starts to reach the back of your throat.

“To think we were playing with no strings attached last time~ Ah, now the only way I get to play with you is if there’s something on the table to gain, huh? Tsk, such a shame, baby.”

You resist the urge to use your teeth for as long as you can - but you’re unable to stop yourself completely when you slowly drag your teeth along his shaft only minutes later.

Jeonghan growls from above you and pulls you off of him by the hair; tears momentarily blurring your vision at the stinging sensation on your scalp that comes with it.

“Ah, ah, ah, behave. We’re gonna play fair for this, babygirl. I’m already trying to be nice to you, y’know?”

“Are you? You have me on my knees sucking your cock in the middle of nowhere, Jeonghan.”

He clicks his teeth, nodding at your words as he mockingly pouts down at you.

“Damn, you’re right. How about you get on the hood of my car and I’ll fuck you instead. Let you get a taste of my cock spreading your pussy open again since I know you probably miss it so much~”

He lets go of your hair as you get up on shaky legs; hands going in to dust off your knees before you walk over to the front of his car.

Jeonghan watches you from behind as you turn and lay your back onto the cold metal - goosebumps rising on your skin as you spread your legs and pull your panties to the side. 

“Oh? Eager, are we?” 

“S-shut up and fuck me like--like you mean it.” 

He walks over to you and positions himself between your legs; hand wrapped around his cock as he guides it towards your core. 

“Hmm, when was the last time we got to play like this... Oh,” He grins as he guides his cock through your soaking folds before he slaps your clit with the head of his cock, “Must’ve been that time you came in second... Hah, in more ways than once, I guess~”

You bite your lip to hold in your moans but the action of Jeonghan teasing your soaking entrance has tiny whimpers and moans falling from your lips instead. 

“H-hurry up and--and fuck me already... I’m tired of this stu--stupid teasing shit...”

“If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning? You’re shaking your hips like you want more too, baby~ You can be honest, y’know?”

He slides the shaft of his cock through your folds one more time before he positions the head at your entrance. 

“H-honest about what?”

“That you’re a ‘lil cockslut for me.” He smirks down at you before he slowly starts to inch his cock into your tight warmth and you fight the urge to beg him to fuck you hard and fast against the hood of his car. 

“O-oh... f-fuck...” You whimper, toes curling in the air as Jeonghan goes as slow as humanly possible to drag out his teasing.

“Mm, as tight as ever, baby~ Do you let anyone else fuck this pretty ‘lil cunt or do you save it just for me?” 

You let out a shaky moan when his cock curves into your g-spot; your walls immediately clamping down onto him as he stays seated inside your pussy. 

“W-what? Are you, ah, k-kidding? I just--just let W-Wonwoo and S--Seungcheol fuck me, mmh, l-last week at--at the same time...” You mutter.

Jeonghan narrows his eyes, trying to decipher if you were lying or not and only getting annoyed when he can’t tell. 

“Oh yeah? Damn they must’ve been fuckin’ terrible lays, huh? All of my cock isn’t even inside your slutty ‘lil cunt and I can see you already trying to fight the urge to cum~ Bet it took so much for you to even get this close since there, apparently, had to be two of them there~”

“F-fuck you...” 

He draws his hips back - thrusting into you at a leisurely pace knowing that the way he filled you up was already enough to have you on edge. 

“Were you thinking about me, baby?”

“Ngh, f-fuck, no...”

“No?” He replies in a mocking manner. “You weren’t thinking about how I made you cry cumming last time when you came on my cock at least three times before I even did? Your pathetic ‘lil cunt could barely take it all then too, just like right now~”

Jeonghan spreads your legs even further apart as you whimper and whine underneath him; teary eyes peering up at him as he smirks back.

“You already wanna cum so bad, I can see it in your eyes. I’ve only been fucking you for a few minutes and you already can’t handle it, huh, slut? I’m surprised you didn’t already just cum when I slid my cock into your tight ‘lil hole.” 

“J--Jeonghan...” Mewling, your back arches off of the hood when he pulls out of you all the way until only the head of his cock is inside. 

“What if I just fucked you like this all night, hmm? Just the head of my cock teasing you and never letting you cum~” 

“P-please... Don’t--don’t, a-ah, tease me... I--I can’t...” Your head thrashes from left to right as the delirium starts to set in when he brings you close to an orgasm only to take it away. 

“Mm, you’re no fun, babygirl~ You know I like to tease~ It only makes cumming that much more satisfying~” 

You’re about to retort when Jeonghan suddenly thrusts forward and sheathes most of his cock inside you at once - loud cries of his name when he starts to bring down his index and middle finger onto your sensitive clit in time with his thrusts. 

“You wanna cum so fuckin’ bad, then cum all you want. I’ll fill up this cunt of yours with my my cum too, while we’re at it since you're so impatient to get out of here.” He chuckles cruelly and eats up the way your body jerks with each slap of his fingers against your clit - never admitting that he was just as close to an orgasm as you were with your tight walls only sucking his cock in deeper. 

“J-Jeonghan, I’m--I’m--mmmph!”

He doubles his pace when he starts to feel your walls getting tighter and tighter around him; hips snapping into you as guttural moans spill from his lips when he feels your walls start to flutter around his cock.

“That’s right, babygirl, cum on my cock... Let me see how you get this cock wet~”

Your thighs tremble and you feel your entire body buzz with electricity when Jeonghan cums only moments later; the throbbing of his cock making your entire body feel warm as he cums inside your pussy.

And he fucks you through your high - his cock covered in a mixture of his cum and your wetness when he draws his hips back.

“Fuck, you still need to drive home too, baby. With your panties all soaked in my cum when it’s dripping out of your spent ‘lil pussy.” He scoffs under his breath as he pulls out completely; slapping your clit with his fingers once more as globs of his cum drip from your cunt onto the hood of his car. 

“But I guess you won this time, huh? Guess the way people will be scared of you now will feel so good, hmm?”

You shoot him a tired grin, eyes unfocused when you feel your panties slide back into place and start to soak with the sticky substance.

“Guess so, fucker.”

[chazukekani]

Previous // Next

Summary for Code:04 is here!

Please notice that this is just a summary so not every single detail is included!

Stormbringer Summary 5

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Recap: N and Verlaine escaped from the laboratory.

The chapter begins with an excerpt of Rimbaud's diary. He wrote that there was once an anti-government movement 'May Revolution', and the leaders were called 'The Fauns'. They created a secret weapon which was named 'No.12 of Darkness' that can control gravity freely. Once Rimbaud acquired this weapon, he was ordered to educate him and trained this weapon to become a spy, and its name was Paul Verlaine.

-  Unbelievable. The Secret of the Gentle Forest was decoded. Here it lies the most fierce beast, and Verlaine...

Rimbaud wrote in his diary.

-

Verlaine and N were at the top of a tower crane. Verlaine had N here because he wanted to know why N knew the Secret. However, N claimed that the last 6 pages of the Secret was erased by Rimbaud himself so he couldn't tell much. Verlaine couldn't believe that's actually Rimbaud who altered the information.

He was strong, Verlaine referred to Rimbaud. He is the only one who was capable of battling with Verlaine in his organisation, and they were partners. Not only this, Rimbaud also called Verlaine his friend, but Verlaine just felt like he couldn't like Rimbaud.

Verlaine left N on the tower crane alone and left.

-

It was a night with a clear sky, a train was moving on the railway and Mori was sleeping inside. At once, a human showed up on the railway, and stopped the train. The train was derailed as a result of mass shock.  Verlaine went inside the train and searched for something, and he believed no one inside the train was able to survive after the shock.

Verlaine found the body of Mori, and he approached to confirm the breath. But that wasn't Mori. It was a man who wore the outfit of his, but was not Mori himself. Turns out it was Mori's double, Hirotsu. A tiny person also appeared afterwards, and that's Dazai.

Suddenly, there was light in the dark, and that was flame. By the mountain near the railway, there were 50 and more sniper bullets aimed and shotted Verlaine, and the target was in utter pain.

'Don't think these little rocks could kill me...' Verlaine was trying to use the woods beside him to attack the snipers who were hiding in the mountain, but he stopped

'Hoho- You really look like my subordinate when I take a closer look' said an elegant lady, Kouyou. She summoned Golden Demon and launched offense towards Verlaine.

'You can't beat me alone,' Verlaine said.

'Who said I am alone?' Verlaine then felt his whole body sinking down to the ground, and turned into multiple snakes that were about to swallow him. That was the Lieutenant's ability (reference to Dead Apple manga, former Port Mafia executive), that could manipulate the state of objects.

'Ability organisations are stronger than ability users,' Dazai observed and smiled. Various ability users from the Port Mafia were launching all kinds of attacks towards him, such as the ability of slowing the time and freezing. In fact, Dazai sent 420 Mafia members which included 28 ability users to the scene to defeat Verlaine.

'I will mourn you,' Dazai said to Verlaine, and took out Rimbaud's diary from his pocket.

The next moment, a black wave inflated and spreaded to the whole field.

'-- You hatreds, your dumb torpors, your weaknessses,

And your brutalisation suffered long ago,

You give back, O Night, like an excess,

Un-malevolent, of blood, each month or so, (extract from The Sisters of Charity, by Arthur Rimbaud)' Verlaine said the spell.

The wind calmed, the buzz on the ground vanished as if escaping from something. The invisible waves were flooded in the atmosphere.

'The door was opened,' Dazai observed. A black object appeared far far away in the forest. Right after, where Verlaine were, ejected a form of dark energy. The car that was hit by this energy was completely deformed with half of it vanished and the remains were just like a wrapped paper.

On the mountain, there was a monster who controlled a dark sphere. When people touched the sphere, they died.

No.3 Forces, annihilated; No.5 forces, all dead, No.8 forces, no response, as reported from Dazai's walkie talkie. The mountained was eliminated, and the ground was distorted. All the mafia members were screaming and suffering.

'It's all in the plan, we will win if the next attack succeeds,' said Dazai.

-

Up in the sky of Yokohama, Chuuya and Adam were inside a helicopter and they jumped off from it due to the attack from the monster. Adam was able to fly in the sky because his body allowed him to transform himself into a flying machine.

Similar to Chuuya, Verlaine was also intolerant to poison despite having ample physical strength, so actually it was their plan to approach Verlaine closely, so that they can inject poison into Verlaine's body. It was notable that Adam mixed this poison pill.

It was very difficult to get closer to Verlaine because he had activated his corruption, which he lost his consciousness and attacked the surroundings without rationality.

Nonetheless, Chuuya did put a toxic pill into Verlaine's mouth, which he has his conscious back. Yet Verlaine splitted out the pills right after.

'You always surprise me, Chuuya,' Verlaine spoke. He told Chuuya that once he said the spell, he would have his human personality unlocked and become a mad beast that generated ability singularity. However, that is Rimbaud who thought about adding a spell on Verlaine, which enabled him to get back to a rational form after using his corruption.

'He always thinks about what he could do for me,' said Verlaine.

'But you betrayed him,' Chuuya replied

'Because I wanted to save you,' Verlaine answered.

Suddenly, a finger touched Verlaine's face.

'What an unexpected offense. I bet no one could foresee this. What a joke,' said Chuuya

Verlaine turned back, and realised that was Adam's finger.

'Do you wanna hear an android joke?' Adam's finger was installed with a tiny syringe, and this enabled poison to be injected into Verlaine's body.

'Seems like a child's trick can defeat the king of assassins. Thanks for listening to my android joke.'

-

It returns to another section of Rimbaud's diary. Rimbaud was thinking about what presents he should give to Verlaine on his birthday. He came up to a conclusion: a black hat. That was not an ordinary hat. The materials used inside the hat consists of 10% platinum, 10% titanium and the rest were made with rainbow-coloured ability metal which was installed with the ability of the Fauns inside. By wearing this hat, it enabled Verlaine to act on his own will and less interfered by external instructions and interruption. In other words, Verlaine was a step closer to a man with free will by having this hat.

Rimbaud gave the hat to Verlaine on his birthday, and he did not look surprised or happy either way.

'Just take it,' Rimbaud told Verlaine, and there was no response. They drank some wine that night and said goodnight to each other.

-

The battle was so called ended, but the field was left with gravity waves and the forest was completely destroyed. Verlained passed out, but still alive. Dazai told Adam and Chuuya that N was rescued from the tower crane, but disappeared during transportation.

-

'I can't die here...' said N. The car that he was taking bumped into a utility pole because he injected some form of medicine to the driver. He took out an old style flare gun and shooted.

'Is this some mistake made by the offense team?' Chuuya noticed the shot far away.

'Shit...' Dazai's eyes were in despair.

The shot that shooted from N's flare gun was exploded with colourful metal pieces floating in the air like snow, and even accompanied with some music. Verlaine suddenly yelled painfully. His eyes were filled with blood and the blood stream was clear on his face and grabbed his chest hardly.

'That was not the effect of my pill!' Adam shouted, 'The gravitational field was unusual here!'

The space was deformed, and Verlaine was flooded inside his own gravity wave.

'The world ends here...' Verlained whispered just like an old man who's dying 'Run, Chuuya.' Verlaine smiled sorrowfully.

The sky was divided, the thunder was coming and the atmosphere was expanding. N saw the ability form of Verlaine. It was a black beast, the opposite of god, and original demon -- Guivre the Beast. The monster annihilated all the aircrafts incoming and was about to proceed to the city center.

'See that Verlaine! That's your end!' N laughed, almost screamed. 'An unique being like you will die because of such a boring creature like me! HAHAHAHA DIE VERLAINE!'

-

Here comes a flashback during the night of Rimbaud and Verlaine's mission of stealing Arahabaki.

'Don't give this kid to the French,' Verlaine was holding the young Chuuya on his arm.

'What?' Rimbaud was confused.

'Don't hand him over to anyone, and don't let him go back to the lab. Grow this kid in a farm and just never let him know about his truth.'

'What are you talking about?' Rimbaud asked once again.

'Think about it Rimbaud,' Verlaine's voice was tense and hostile at the same time, 'If someone tells you you're not a human, how impactful it will be. You are not born with god's blessing but just a programme, how hurtful it is. You cannot see the moon and live in darkness forever without any hope, and no one will come save you. Even such a feeling of despair is designed by someone else!'

'We have this conversation countless times, Paul,' Rimbaud stepped forward, 'You are a human, everyone sees that. Instead of thinking how you were made, isn't it better to think what you should be as a being?'

'Paul...' 'Don't get close.'

'I am sorry. Anyways, should we go back and have a chat?' Rimbaud stepped forward again.

'No, it's too late.'

A huge fight between the spies broke out.

-

Adam had an idea to stop the destruction of Guivre. Almost at the end of the Great War, Britain had developed something that was currently the energy source of Adam's machines. However, the initial usage of Adam's energy source was a mass destruction weapon. Adam smiled and continued. If they used Adam's weapon inside him, they could burn and melt the Guivre.

So they put this in practise. Adam asked Chuuya to tie Adam's own arm to an electric cable. However, Adam pushed Chuuya away when he was about to trigger the weapon. He explained to Chuuya that the weapon inside him was called the Shell (55 minutes reference). It can burn down the surroundings of 22 yard radius, and the internal temperature could reach 6000 degree celsius, and that is almost the temperature of the sun surface. This was sufficient to destroy the Guivre.

'Don't do this!' Chuuya cried

'Don't you have your dream! To build an investigation organisation purely ran by machines right!'

Adam silenced for two seconds.

'My dream is to protect humans,' Adam replied, 'and my dream comes true now.'

'Wait!'

A gigantic fireball. It burned the woods, and boiled the land, and altogether evaporated. The Guivre moaned miserably and decomposed in the air. Adam sacrificed himself and the monster was destroyed.

However, the tail of the beast in front of Chuuya and Dazai was forming into something. That piece of tail suddenly grew a face out of it, something like a reptile. It then turned into a huge form of creature. Its head was pretty much the head of the former Guivre, but the number of eyes were different, and it had red eyes.

'Don't look at it, Chuuya,' Dazai warned, 'He was sensitive to emotion, so don't let him see you.'

'I know how to defeat this ability singularity,' said Chuuya, 'I recalled from my memory.'

'Let's brief me that,' Dazai smiled.

-

They figured out how to open Chuuya's door. In order to activate Chuuya's corruption, he needs to say the spell 'Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again'. Together with the hat gifted by Rimbaud, Chuuya could control the door with his own consciousness. However, there's a problem. Once Chuuya said the spell, the log inside his programme will altogether be erased, which means Chuuya could no longer find out whether he was human or not via the programme.

Chuuya was flying in the sky. He grabbed his hat tightly and recalled his friend's word

-- I am satisfied that I can protect you.

And he said 'Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again.'

The battle between the gigantic beast and a tiny Arakami (God of Arahabaki) began. Dazai was directing the forces to launch offense towards the beast. Meanwhile Chuuya's physical body could no longer tolerate the power inside his body. He was bleeding severely. Finally, Chuuya created an enormous fireball that was as if the second sun in the night. Finally, the beast disappeared and Dazai nullified corruption.

Code:04 End