#or maybe he likes it!! it could be any of those or ALL of them tbh

[alchemistc]

Found this in my drafts and decided to finish it up, written before the Abby reveal so we're just pretending that never happened, have some outsider pov of the alt timeline where Tommy and Buck met before Buck was at the 118.

Tommy is being weird. That's the only way Hen can describe it. He's been quiet on calls, none of the usual banter and posturing she's used to; he's been quiet in the station, prone to staring at the space between his lap and the dinner table even as Chim spouts off some ironic quote that would have had him cheesing it up a few weeks previous; he's been quiet as he packs his shit and heads out for his truck. Each afternoon since he'd quietly announced his transfer to the 217, he's been quiet, and it's weird.

Hen's not entirely surprised. Tommy's nothing if not protective of his own feelings - years and years of Gerrard all hanging over their heads even though he'd admitted a few drinks deep one night that he was pretty positive his professionally scathing complaint about Gerrard was very likely what tipped the scales ("Could have been Sal's, though," he'd said with a shrug as his eyes drifted to the head on his beer.). From what she's gleaned off Chim, there's a good chance he'd been an ass in part to protect himself from feeling too bad about losing someone, too (again) - not that that's any type of excuse for the shit he'd had a hand in putting her through. An excuse for the things he's said, in the heat of the moment, in the quiet caverns of life under a shitty captain.

(Stumbled apologies, serious expressions on a face softened only by the shots he'd been buying all night, words said and unsaid between them and the gaping maw between a Chim happy to accept and move on while Hen downed her tequila and waited for the other shoe to drop.)

It's been years since then. Years and years winding between them all, a dozen captains and more than a few transfers of good firefighters away from the 118, and something good and warm and special brewing in their house with the arrival of the captain who'd made family dinners a daily occurrence.

She'd sort of expected Tommy might finally open up, when those family dinners kept going and Nash kept staying and things started to settle into something closer to friendly instead of the soldiers of war camaraderie they'd grown so used to. And maybe he has, to someone who isn't Hen - who'd taken his little efforts to change at face value and refused to put in more work than that for a colleague who'd made mostly bare minimum efforts post-Gerrard, always accepting the new status quo, refusing to make waves. She respects Tommy. Trusts him on the job, and sometimes off of it when they've had a shitty shift and need to decompress before they go home to the people in their lives who can never really understand losing someone to the heat of a fire, to blood loss and blunt force trauma. Doesn't care for him the way Chim seems to, doesn't really desire a closer relationship than the one they've maintained through the turnover of captains and the 48's they pull on occasion.

But Tommy's being weird, and Hen's pretty sure she's the only one who sees it.

She waits until she's sure Chim has a date to hit up Tommy for an after shift drink, and his eyes crinkle around the corners in suspicion because he knows just as well as she that she's putting them in an awkward position without the buffer zone of an extra coworker to fill in the blank spots of the things they don't say to each other. He'll be gone in a week. There's not a single fucking reason for her to try to get to know him better now.

"Sure thing, Wilson," he says, and when he offers to drive them both Hen makes up some excuse about needing her car in case of some Denny related emergency.

---

She expects it to take a while. Ply him with a few drinks, figure out what it is about Howie that always puts Tommy at ease so quickly when they're out like this and try to replicate it - he keeps things close to the vest but Hen has ways of weaseling things out of people once she's got them where she wants them.

Tommy sighs and picks at the label on his bottle. Thins his lips, and stares at her sideways. "I'm seeing someone," he says, in an undertone, and Hen hasn't even taken her first sip from the bottle he'd ordered for her, too, while she scrounged up one of the smaller booths. His eyes dart, like he's checking to make sure no one else is listening, that no one here recognizes him, and Hen - Hen knows that look. She just can't square that look with Mr. Toxic Heterosexuality himself.

Hen takes a sip. Forces herself not to vibrate out of her own skin because - because - because she's gotta wait this shit out. Could be he's found himself attracted to some weird goth chick, or a woman with meat on her bones, in which case he's in for a big ole smack to the head or one of the looks she reserves for when the boys get a little too caught up in their locker room talk.

He darts his gaze up. Meets hers, steady on, for the first time in...weeks, actually, now that she's thinking about it, and the guilt there in his eyes sure is something to behold.

"He's younger," Tommy says, and Hen rolls her tongue over her teeth so she doesn't do something stupid like hone in on that pronoun with either glee or full-on righteous anger.

Hen narrows her eyes instead, and is surprised that he keeps her gaze. She's expecting - unnecessary contrition, or maybe a ducked head or excuses. He chews on the inside of his lip and chuffs out a self deprecating laugh.

"I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing and he still lives in a frat house."

Hen's mind goes somewhere inappropriate, and she has to stop herself from making a truly horrible hand gesture because he can't possibly mean -

He rolls his eyes. "I know where to stick it, Wilson, that's not the issue."

She has about half a million questions queueing - things she's not sure they're close enough to ask, things she doesn't actually want the answer to but stick there in the back of her mind anyway, things she'd never ask someone who'd been kind to her from the outset. "How'd you do it?" he asks, and Hen remembers the way he'd stood, arms crossed and face blank and something sad and vulnerable in his face while she lectured from her red and chrome pulpit. Jesus. He's known. He's known a while.

"I've never exactly been passing," she tells him, and winces at the aggression in her voice, in that statement, in the very existence of the idea. He shoots her a bitchy look that's far more familiar, in line with their normal dynamic. It has her rolling her shoulders back, has her sitting up a little more in her seat. "Is that - are you asking me how to come out?"

Tommy shrugs. Tips his head. "You're the one who wanted to get drinks."

"And if I hadn't asked?"

She knows the answer. The dumbass would have transferred out of the 118 with no one the wiser. Probably fallen off all the group chats, squared with himself for however long it took, decided one way or another who to tell from there. But he's here now, talking to Hen. Telling Hen, the person he's probably the least close to.

Hen sighs. Takes a longer drag off her beer this time while Tommy folds up a piece of the label he's ripped off. She's not gonna be his fucking gay guru. They're not anywhere approaching that close.

He could have lied, though, is the thing. Seems like he's maybe been lying for a while, if the uncharacteristic fidgeting is anything to go by. She knows him under stress, knows him when he's walking through literal fire. Figurative fire is an entirely different matter. She doesn't know that Tommy.

The words that fall out of her mouth aren't the ones she's aiming for. "You and Sal." she says, and then bites down the rest of that sentence like it'll burn them both. His eyes dart up. He shifts in his seat.

"The only reason I'm saying a word is because the answer is no," he says, and - yeah that's fair. Everyone has the right to come out of the closet in their own fucking time.

"So this kid," Hen says, moving on, and - oh. There's that look. It's a little dreamy-eyed, the way he's been getting sometimes when he's looking down at his phone and trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "What's the deal there?"

"He's new," Tommy says, and Hen can feel her brow tic up of it's own accord, because he says it with the authority of someone who isn't new. Hen has to wonder exactly how many times the perpetually single Tommy joke had been made while Tommy was less than single. God, that had to have stung, hadn't it? "He's - apparently he didn't realize he was flirting until I kissed him about it."

That's remarkably brave for a man who isn't out to a single person he and Hen are mutually acquainted with. At least as far as she knows - Chim can't keep a secret to save his damn life so at least she knows he doesn't know.

"You know you didn't have to tell me any of this."

His expression is wry. He bites his lip, curls his tongue over his teeth, shakes his head like he's clearing cobwebs. "The transfer isn't the only thing I had on the docket for major life changes."

Karen's gonna be pissed if Hen doesn't get the dirt, she tells herself as she leans forward, so she throws a teasing edge to her voice as she quirks a brow. "This life change have anything to do with your baby gay or is that just a natural progression of the coming out process?"

Tommy's posture eases, just a little. He gives her a look that she's more familiar with seeing when Chim's in the booth next to him, or they're elbow deep in shit-talk at the station.

"Happy accident, actually," he says, and Hen leans in to listen to him dish when his eyes go all soft and gooey.

___

She's known Evan Buckley a total of six hours the first time he mentions his boyfriend. There's a nervous edge to it, like he's still testing the word out, like the syllables are unfamiliar, and he glances down at the phone in his lap right after he says it, like he's double checking something. Hen wouldn't have pegged him for it, for all that she tends not to make assumptions. It's just. He's so.

Hen shoves back against the stereotypical bullshit and throws him a bone, because he looks like he's fucking desperate to share information on the fact that someone cares enough about him to let him call them his boyfriend. She lobs a layup, something relatable about 'my wife, Karen'.

"Yeah, Tommy said you were married."

Hen pauses. Wonders if she can turn her head like an owl so that she doesn't have to shift her weight to look behind her at where Buck is happily washing dishes, elbow-deep in sudsy water. There's no one else up here with them - most of the shift is working off dinner downstairs.

"We never have meals like this at home, I'm lucky if the guys I live with don't steal my last packet of ramen before I can get to it," he'd said, and she remembers Tommy grinning at the memory of this Evan he'd been seeing being inordinately impressed by the fact that Tommy could grill a steak. ("Jesus, Kinard, are you sure you're not robbing the fucking cradle?")

Hen shifts. Eyes him a little more carefully as he turns his head to meet her gaze, and - holy shit, she's actually feeling a little protective of Tommy Kinard right now. "He know you're out here sharing his business?" It's not the tone she's going for - admonishing instead of exploratory, but Buck just grins at her over his shoulder, like he's pleased Tommy has someone watching out for him. Shit. She'd been a little concerned that Tommy was in over his head, stuck up on the idea of being out out and clinging to the first boy that batted his lashes, but it feels like maybe there's more to it than that. She can't square that with what has to be at least a decade of years between them, but -

Love is love, and all that.

"We, uh. We've been talking about it."

Hen raises an eyebrow, because that's not actually a green light to air Tommy's business.

"He - well last night we talked about it again. So. I mean it's not like Facebook official or anything. But he said it was cool to talk to you. A-all of you. He's - everyone at Harbor knows me."

It hurts a bit to know that Tommy's been there less than six months and felt more comfortable being himself with a bunch of strangers, but...

It's good. That he has that. That he's not walking the world just shoving bits and pieces of himself away.

Hen watches him rinse his arms and square his shoulders and shift to face her. "How'd you two meet, anyway?" she asks, because Tommy had been so stuck on the trying to figure out how to have an honest relationship piece that she'd never gotten around to asking.

Buck's expression could be easily mistaken for a solar flare, for the way it lights up the whole loft.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I found and read this cute story on AO3, about Frostbite being Danny's legal parental guardian. In the story Bruce Wayne runs into Frostbite (in his full yeti glory no disguise) who is setting up for school bake sale. Got me thinking about what if Danny's past rogues took turns filling in and doing parental stuff especially at school functions. Like Frostbite does the bake sale, Pandora shows up for his games, Ghostwriter goes to all of the PTA meetings, Clockwork goes to teacher meetings, so on and so forth.

The 43rd Annual Gotham Academy Bake Sale by Faeriekit

Ohhh, that sounds good! I'll get it a read when I have some time. Thank you for the rec!

Danny Fenton is one of the lucky few who have a very involved household. His various family members would always sign up for any school event the boy needed support in. It didn't mean that the boy won everything, but as a teacher for nine years, Emily has come to learn how much it mattered to just have someone show up.

She had seen students whose entire faces light up after spotting someone in the crowd in the same amount she saw a student's hope crumble after they scanned the room.

Danny was a polite young man, a bit on the shyer side, but kind and not a troublemaker, his previous school had her believe. If anything, he seemed to struggle with fitting in, but no students blatantly disliked him.

The general opinion of Danny matched, as her students would say, "I know him from class, but I don't really talk to him. He seems cool though".

Maybe that's why so many people were supposed by his family to march into the auditorium during Danny's talent show. Seeing him wave at the row before starting his gymnastic act had been such a surprise.

Now, Gotham wasn't a close-knit community, not with the size of their city and the millions of people living within it, but everyone would have noticed that Danny was adopted.

After all, he was the only one that wasn't glowing or a large humanoid animal. They cheered the loudest among the crowd; uncaring Danny got bronze- having lost to Joey's tapping dancing for second and Damian's spectacular multi-instrumental cover of a meme song for first place- and Danny beamed back at them.

Gotham was known for not being meta-friendly, but that was only due to a few mean people who shouted the loudest on media outlets. Many of Emily's students were meta, had family that were meta, or knew someone meta. It wasn't a common enough trait one would encounter a meta on every outing, but you would see them in Gotham well enough.

Everyone knew, but no one said it out loud. In the same way, she knew which students' parents were in the country illegally but worked harder than anyone else. Saying anything would help the cops, or worse, the rich running Gotham.

Even the most prejudiced Gothamite would rather be spat on then give them aid. And those who were so prejudiced to help the poor man's enemies, well, Emily has lived here long enough to know they vanished rather quickly. The smart ones kept their mouths shut.

No one could forget what happened to that guy who accidentally insulted Penguin. His grandmother had been an illegal immigrant on his mother's side.

No one messed with that side of the family.

"Hello, Mrs. Jackson." Danny's adoptive father, Dr. Frostbite said, ducking down to avoid banging his head on the door. On one of his shoulders was a box of hotdog wieners; on the other were multiple bags of bread. "I'm here for my snack bar shift."

Emily tilts her head back to look the Yeti in the eye. He had been shocked the first time they met, but she could admit that Dr. Frostbite was a relatively gentle and wise soul. "Welcome aboard. The girls are just about to take the field. You can put that down by the crock pot over there."

The mountain of white fur brushes by her with the grace of a king as Dr. Frostbite does as she says. There were no customers at the window, so she leaned on the counter and offered him a smile. "Did you enjoy the game?"

"Yes. I was saddened our team did not win, but Danny hit a home run." Dr. Frostbite's sharp smile could have been frightening if he wasn't oozing parental pride. "I caught it all on video."

Emily opens her mouth to respond when a hand lands loudly on the counter with a loud crack. Her heart leaps, and she looks into Danny's Ember. She isn't one of Emily's students, though she does appear to be a teenager in appearance.

You know. If it wasn't for her hair made of fire. Or her blue skin. Or her glow.

"I set a boy on fire," She announces with a cackle.

"That's so?" Dr. Frostbite gently rips open the box, taking out the hotdog packages. With one large claw, he rips a hole into it and lets the few weiners slide into the crockpot with a gentle splash. "What did he do?"

"Tried to slap me on the butt." She huffs, rolling her eyes, but her smirk doesn't lose an edge of smugness.

"Well done." Dr. Frostbite praises placing the lid back on. It always surprised Emily to see such careful actions from the large creature. "I assume you did so out of Pandora's line of sight?"

"Naturally. I don't want her lecturing me in front of the whole community." Ember scoffs, crossing her arms. Behind her, the top of Pandora's head can be seen swinging side to side over the dugout, keeping an eye on the ball.

She was the best volunteer referee because even the parents knew not to shout insulting things when she was present. Emily doesn't think she has had such peaceful games in a long while. Hopefully, Danny will try out again for baseball next year so the woman can return.

"Oh hey, you're Danny's English teacher, right? Mrs. Johnson?" Ember asks, leaning on the counter to give Emily a curious look.

When the blond nods, holding out her hand for a shake. "That's right. It's nice to see you again, Ember."

The girl's hair flairs a little as a grin grows on her face. Her hand is ice cold to the touch, but she's got a firm grip that her husband would appreciate. "Likewise. I got a message for you from Ghostwriter. He sent the notes for the last PTA meeting to you and the revision playwright for the musical you two were working on."

Emily's mood brightens up. "That's wonderful. Could you tell him I'll check it out when I get home and get to my laptop since my phone broke in the last Two-Face attack?"

Ember's hair flickers in the wind when she nods, but Danny bounces right up behind her just as she opens her mouth to speak. He's wearing his Gotham Acadamy Baseball uniform with pride despite them losing. "Hey, Frostbite, can I go with Tim and Duke to get Peoeria Pizza? We'll be back before the girl's game ends."

"Only if you take Ember with you," Dr.Frostbite says, nodding to his daughter, who looks alarmed to be included. "She needs more friends."

"Hey!"

"Sure. Come on, Ember, you'll get along with Duke. He likes old-school rock."

"It's not old-school!"

Emily laughs, watching the two siblings bicker as they stride away, blending into the crowd with no one batting an eye at the glowing girl anymore. How blessed that boy was.

"I'm glad Danny has gotten comfortable here. I always worried he never was going to have a normal childhood." Dr. Frostbite confesses to swirling the hotdogs around in the water to ensure each one is cooked.

"I think you and the rest are doing a wonderful job. You're a great father." She assures him, thinking wistfully of her William. He's been on deployment for a few months now and will likely miss the holidays again, but his contract is almost up. They may try for a child when he gets in the reserves. "How are things at the clinic?"

"Oh, wonderful. I'm grateful that Mr. Wayne has allowed the expansion of Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic. Dr. Thompkins will be covering the east side of Gotham while I help those on the west. It's much more fulfilling than working in some hospital that demands funds for the silliest things. Back home, that would have been illegal. The people would have burned me at the stake if I had allowed anyone to pass away due to greed."

"My kind of people." She laughs. A sharp crack sounds from the field as the bat makes contact with the ball, and the crowd goes wild. It's a wonderful day.

[unpopularly-opinionated]

So you believe that Boeing paid off the family juuuuuust enough to get them to say that he wasn't assassinated, but not enough to stop them from saying "Boeing is responsible for his death and should be held responsible for their grotesque conduct that drove him to suicide?"

I guess I should've been more clear when I said Boeing "paid off" the bereaved family, that's on me I guess, but I didn't mean they paid them off in the same sense that you'd pay off a cop. If it even transpired, it would more than likely go something like: "Hey, we feel really bad about the tragic loss of your son who definitely for sure killed himself, so uh, here's some money for your loss. See, we're the good guys in this! Please don't point fingers at us."

Or alternatively, they could've not been paid at all. Both are just as likely and explain why the family might still be pointing fingers. It wouldn't have been hush money, more like a gift meant to ingratiate them as an innocent party that obviously didn't work (again, assuming it even happened).

The evidence you have is an apparent belief that money has evil-gravitic properties, and anything bad that happens must have originated with the closest concentration of money.

Not anything, no, just the ones where Occam's razor applies. Again, which is more likely, a hundred billion dollar company who are active agents of shady, illegal business practices had both the cause and the means to have someone with information dangerous to their company killed and covered up... or that the guy who was about to testify with said-dangerous information just up and decided to end it all right before the finish line?

You seem to be under the impression that money holds little to no power which is as amusing to me as it is grossly naive.

By your standard, is there any evidence that is not hearsay? Because the evidence is "all of the evidence," and I appended the assessment of the family to pre-empt the accusation it was all made up evidence. What evidence does not count as hearsay?

To reiterate, I don't have any evidence that he was killed, nor did I ever claim to. But the evidence that he killed himself is the hole in his head and the "trust me bro" we get from the cops, which is the same exact kind of evidence that we got from Epstein's supposed suicide as well, just a man hanging in his cell and a "trust me bro" from the cops.

Now, is this me saying that we should question whether or not every suicide by gunshot/hanging is legit or just actually a covered up murder? No, obviously not. Again, I'm just applying Occam's razor here. Joe Blow who lived an average life before deciding to end it all probably wasn't secretly murdered. But the guy with information that could harm a lot of really powerful people, who is in active pursuit of revealing that information to the proper authorities, decides to end it all just before the finish line? You can't reasonably argue that it's not the least bit suspect.

The rest of us know Epstein didn't kill himself because we observe facts about reality and observe when they do and do not align with a conspiracy or cover-up.

You know, I don't mean to be rude, and what I said about you being naive about money was rude, so I apologize. But if not money, you seem to think that maybe only politicians or political figures have the modicum of power necessary to have someone killed and cover it up.

Like let's just examine your admission here: You've admitted that the circumstances surrounding Epstein's supposed suicide were suspect enough to justify questioning it's legitimacy. You admit to this despite the fact that he was in prison and under close watch by guards and cameras. Which, mind you, I agree with. But you're telling me that someone in those circumstances was somehow murdered, and said-murder was then covered up?

So then explain to me how exactly it's so unbelievable that a dude not in prison, not under watch by guards or cameras, was murdered in his car and then covered up as a suicide? How was one dude with dangerous information under total security and surveillance mysteriously killed and staged, but the other dude with dangerous information with no security or surveillance probably just killed himself?

This isn't the hill I'm prepared to die on, but sure, maybe he did kill himself. But then again, maybe Epstein actually just killed himself too.

Remember earlier this year when Boeing very clearly had a whistleblower executed? And law enforcement didn't even look for anyone or release any info about it or anything?

People keep comparing Luigi Mangione's case to the subway murderer who got off because of systemic eugenics, but I think there's something more apt about the fact that a CEO had someone executed in recent memory, with zero attempts to find a culprit, while they spared no expense at all to find (and probably frame, it's beginning to look like) someone who shot a CEO. It's always fine to slaughter if you're rich, but if you kill the rich, they will hunt you down.

[windixie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ out of touch ♱ soccer player! gojo x alt! reader pt.1

summary : gojo is the university's most popular boy and soccer player. he can get any girl he wanted to warm up his bed, so why did he catch feelings for the girl who looks like she just woke up out of a coffin?

warnings ☠︎︎ this will contain smut throughout the story. reader is implied to have a smaller chest! gojo is an asshole :( so angst, profanity, insecurities, p in v, creampie, comfort, fluff, slight breeding kink, light choking, jealousy, ill prob add to the list as the story progresses!

word count : 1.03k

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list !!

you knew gojo. hell, everyone knew gojo. annoying, loud, obnoxious, ah should I go on? that's how you described the so called star player on the soccer team. his ego reached all the way towards the clouds by how much he was admired in the community. you on the other hand, not so much. sure you were known by many but not in such a positive way. you were intelligent sure, but the way you dressed wasn't entirely accepted. you were always getting bothered by other students, one of them being no other than satoru gojo. although, it seems that you two have grown into a friendship lately.

"hey pretty" you heard an awfully familiar voice come up behind you. the white haired boy was still in his blue and white soccer jersey covered in grass stains and some of his sweat from his practice that he just came from. you gave him one of your small sweet smiles."hi gojo" you mumbled back.

he looked down at your figure. the pretty black blouse fit you so perfect as well as those mini grey jean shorts that cupped your ass so deliciously. gojo took notice of you wearing your earbuds which he took one of them and placed it in his ear. "whatcha listening to?" you faced him slightly annoyed as you looked at how his face scrunched up in disgust.

"seriously? how can your ears support all that screaming?" he grimaced as he heard the loud singing.

he let out a chuckle at that before his eyes lit up as he realized something. reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper handing it to you. you blamed the shot of arousal that traveled towards you as you took notice of how veiny his arms were. you glanced down to see it was a ticket. a ticket to his upcoming soccer game, to be exact.

your eyebrows picked up as you turned to him. "you want me to go to your game?" the question made the blue eyed boy nod. "want you there on the stands baby, if you can, then I promise to play even better than I usually do." you were shocked to say the least. the satoru gojo inviting you to his game personally even after countless months of relentless bullying was not something you could see coming.

but you couldn't help yourself from nodding. "yeah sure ill be there!" the feeling of your heart beating against your chest brought a scary but not unwelcome feeling. You stared at him for a moment, unsure if you were hearing things correctly. The blue-eyed boy, a walking angel blessed by God himself, smirked down at you with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn't the usual cocky smirk. It was different—something warmer, maybe? Or maybe you were just imagining it.

"I'd like that."

"great, ill see you tomorrow after school then?" he asked in which you let out an mhm in return. "okay pretty, try and get some sleep. you need some just by judging off your eye bags" he teased. "shut up!"

you watched the taller boy walk off. his use of the sweet and loving names made you feel a little awkward, but you shoved it down. You had a feeling that this was just another one of his ways of throwing you off. It wasn’t like he was being sweet. Not Gojo. He never was.

As you walked off to the other side of where the dormitories where taking note on how the night was now awakening due to time change. as you reached for your AirPods case to put back your earbuds your fingers stopped on your left ear. your earbud was missing.

gojo didn't take notice of the music cutting off. he was in a completely different world thinking about none other than you. he didn't understand how he caught feelings. no matter how many times he reminded himself it was you and how he could do some much better that that. he only gave you to ticket to his game only to be nice, is what he told himself. a friendly gesture friends do all the time!

"yo Satoru!" one of his friends called out to him. gojo turned to look at the boy with long black hair and big ass gauges walking up to him along with some other boys from the team. a smile crept up on his face dabbing them all up. "hey you all did well at practice today"

"yeah man that's what we came to say as well but we saw you talking to that emo freak uh whats her name, y/n?" this made gojo slightly embarrassed on how they caught him. "don't tell me you hitting on that emo pussy, it can't be that good" one of the other teammates chuckled making the white haired boy slightly uncomfortable.

"nah man, too busy with uraume" Geto patted his back "good good, lets keep it that way. she's got a better body anyways. let me burrow her sometime yeah?" the blacked hair boy received a nudge at that making him chuckle.

you looked around you trying to find the taller boy to retrieve your airpod. sighing in relief as you saw him. "gojo!" you called out making the boys turn around.

"ah she came back for round two?"

you walked up to him. "hey uhm you still have my AirPods." you said pointing to his ear. "give back your friend her AirPods satoru" his friend teased.

"we're barely friends. acquaintance is a better term" he mumbled out. as you received back your airpod, you stopped. eyes widening as you heard what he said. "acquaintance? thought we were-"

"friends?" he cut you off. "cmon I pay attention to you two or three times and now suddenly we're friends?" he scoffed. why was he acting like this? that's right, because he's satoru gojo. you were nowhere as close as him. you never will be. your face turned serious before you reached into you pocket handing him the ticket he gave you. "here, you dropped this" you mumbled.

gojos eyes fell down to the ticket in his hands. his heart broke a bit. "wait.. y/n-"

"forget it" with that you retrieved back to the direction to your dorm fighting back tears as you left the boy stunned.

"looks like you hurt her feelings, gonna go apologize?"

"nah."

© 2025 windixie. All work belongs to windixie . please do not copy, repost, plagiarize, any of my works as your own.

[probablyreadinsmut]

The Cooldown.

One shot.

Pairing: Boyfriend! Joel Miller x Mid/Plus size Afab!Reader

Pictures used are just for reference purposes, you are the lucky gal in this fic

Summary: Your boyfriend can't resist offering you a little post workout fun. Completely inspired by those pictures of Pedro from yesterday.

This one goes out to all my thigh riding girlie's (gn) <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Established relationship, AU no outbreak, Mentions of being body conscious in the past, vague descriptions of being fuller figured nothing specific though, sweaty post gym thigh riding, Praise, dirty talk. Undefined legal age gap. Spanking.

Not beta'd and probably not proofread very well, putting the disorder in adhd, as ever. ✌️

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

“C’mere baby” Joel’s patting his thick thigh with a lecherous grin on his face as he’s watching you peel off your gym wear, the damp nylon is sticking to every inch of you.

You respond with a soft snort “What do you mean come here? Joel, I feel gross. That work out nearly killed me today.” It had been his idea to start going to the gym together, another ‘couples bonding’ experience he’d said. He was big into that kind of thing, but honestly you were pretty sure it was so he could watch your tits and ass jiggle, he thought he was slick.

“Do I look like I care darlin’? Get that beautiful ass over here and ride my thigh, c’mon...” It’s a command and an invitation all in one, your boyfriend of two years knew what he wanted, he’s never sugar-coated it and that horny, feral part of your brain loved that about him.

So, you shuck off your sports bra over your head, tossing it into the hamper. You can feel the sweat that had collected beneath the material was now running down your sternum, trickling to your belly button. You’d already be in the shower if you were alone, but these days doing anything alone is a huge feat in itself where Joel is concerned. On the days he’s not working, or when Sarah is at school, he’s with you, making the most of your time together. Usually naked.

You watch as his once brown eyes go almost completely black with desire, pupils blown wide, the bulge in his sinfully short shorts is impossible to ignore. You’d tease him a little more if you weren’t so fucking turned on. Maybe a joint session at the gym had been for both his benefit and yours. He’d been eyeing you in your figure hugging leggings and tight little sports bra while you’d been ogling his thighs and ass the whole time.

You should have known that once you made it back to your place, you’d both be spending the rest of the day engaging in a more horizontal form of exercise.

So you tug off your leggings, shimmying out of them as you take your panties off with them, his eyes never leave you for a moment, his gaze is both predatory and appreciative. You’re his. Every day he thanks his lucky stars for that.

You put on a little show for him as you strut towards the bed where he sits, his thighs parted wide, leaning back on his palms. Your hips shake hypnotically with every step. Before Joel, you hadn’t loved your body that much, but now with the way he worships every dip and curve, whether it be with his eyes, lips, tongue or fingers, now you love your fuller frame. Gone are the days where you’d be covering up in t-shirts that swamped you at the gym, you were beautiful and you didn’t feel the need to hide any more.

You lower yourself onto his thick thigh, more defined these days, he’d said a while ago that he wanted to stay in shape now he was getting ‘older’, if not for his sake then for the sake of his babygirl and you were more than happy to support him, they way he supported you in everything you wanted to achieve.

“That’s it” He coos, leaning back just pinning you with a stare that has you melting already “Fuck darlin’ look at you, pretty as a picture. Y’look good just like this...”

You preen under his praise, a little giggle leaving you as you plant your hands on his broad shoulders and start to glide along his thigh, the ridges and hairs tickle your clit just right. “Maybe we just skip the gym next time... Stay home and fuck all day instead?” That earns you a sharp spank, making you gasp, soothed by his thick fingers pawing at the fleshy part of your cheek. It’s a sweet sting that’s left there, one you know has probably left a red mark, one that has your cunt clenching around nothing nonetheless, dribbling onto his naked thigh.

“I could spend all day in this pretty little pussy, y’know that” His hands come up to your hips, kneading the soft flesh under his fingertips “But there’s just something about you... All hot and sweaty out in public that makes my motor run baby... maybe next time y’let me fuck you in the locker room huh? Stay nice an’ quiet for me while I bend you over one of those benches? That sound good sugar?” he’s guiding you now, pressing you down harder against his thigh, urging you to roll those gorgeous hips of yours.

With a breathy moan you nod and he spanks you again, the slap echoing throughout the bedroom.

“Use your words sweetness, need t’hear you say it.”

You feel your release quickly creeping up on you, his thigh is getting slicker by the second. You grind yourself deeper agaisnt his thigh with his guidance giving your swollen little clit all the attention she so desperately needs. “Yes! Fuck baby- P-please next time... N-next time fuck me just like that...”

He can feel you tensing up on top of him, he can hear the little hitches in your breath all the subtle cues that tell him you’re about to make a mess on his thigh.

“That’s it darlin’ just like that, keep goin’.. Fuck... After this we’re gonna go take a shower together and I’m gonna bury my cock so deep inside you, that you won’t know where you end and I begin... Gonna make this tight little pussy sing for me” His jaw is set and tense as he grits his teeth, urging you to move faster, you look between the two of you seeing his cock straining painfully against the stretchy fabric of his shorts, begging to come out and play.

You throw your head back, nails digging into his taut flesh as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave of pleasure. The deep, filthy groan that leaves him as he watches you fall apart is one that will be engrained in your memory for years to come.

His thigh is soaked, he can feel it running down his knee and he fucking loves it. Your cries of ecstasy are just dying down when he releases his grip on your hips and helps you up onto your feet, holding you upright since you’re knees are buckling like a deer taking their first steps.

He’s guiding you towards the ensuite when he ducks his head down to drawl in your ear “C’mon baby, let’s get you all cleaned up so I can make you dirty again”.  

Tags: @almostempty @itwasntimethatdidit40 @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter @syd-djarin @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @guiltyasdave

[dixons-sunshine]

A High Mind Speaks A Sober Heart | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: After narrowly escaping the Russians, you and your friends were forced to hide in a movie theater. However, what you didn’t expect was for Steve, in his current state, to admit something that could make or break your friendship—or maybe relationship?

Genre: Fluff, I think? Maybe? Perhaps a bit of angst?

Warnings: Talks of being drugged, being high, mentions of being beat up, blood.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: So I was listening to “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” by the Arctic Monkeys and suddenly I thought of this. I hope you all like this!

The sound of the film playing on the big screen of the movie theater reverberated in your eardrums. You had to resist the urge to slip from the room just to have a moment of silence, reminding yourself that the Russian guards could be hot on your tail. In fact, they probably were, and if they were to enter the cinema, they would instantly spot all of you. Two children and three teenagers, two of which wore vibrant coloured sailor’s uniforms and one whose face was all bloody and bruised?

Yeah, it was safe to assume that the five of you stuck out like sore thumbs.

You cursed under your breath when you nearly tripped down the stairs in your haste to usher your two companions—who were high out of their minds—to two of the three open seats at the end of one of the rows. You attempted to block out their whines and complaints as they rambled on about the seats being terrible, trying not to roll your eyes and remind them that there were much more important things to worry about.

They did not know any better at that moment. The Russians had drugged them. The sober Steve and Robin would never act like this when danger was afoot.

You zoned back into the conversation when you heard Dustin speak up. “Whatever you do; don’t go anywhere,” your younger friend instructed both Steve and Robin.

“Fine, dad,” Steve replied sarcastically, withholding his own chuckles when he successfully elicited a laugh from Robin. “He’s being such a dad. Right, Y/N?”

You simply shook your head when he addressed you. You tried not to let butterflies erupt in your stomach when his beautiful amber-like eyes locked on your own, clearly searching for your approval at his joke. “Let’s go, you two,” you quietly addressed Dustin and Erica, motioning for them to head for the three other empty seats at the end of the aisle.

To your great relief, both of them complied with your suggestion. The two of them brushed past you and made their way through the aisle, mumbling halfhearted apologies to the people they disturbed along the way. You moved to follow them, but you were stopped by something grabbing a hold of your hand. Or rather, someone.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked rather loudly, eliciting a rude “shhh!” from the man seated behind them, but he paid him no mind. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not going far,” you reassured him in a soft whisper, leaning down to be heard over the boom of the soundtrack in the movie. You motioned over to where Dustin and Erica were seated. “I’m just going over there.”

“Why? There’s a seat right here,” Steve countered, pouting as he motioned to the seat right next to him. “Sit with us.”

Despite your best efforts, you could feel your resolve slipping. Steve’s puppy dog eyes, along with the most adorable pout on his face, made you want to give in and spend the whole night with him on those chairs. However, you knew you couldn’t. Danger lurked around the corner. You needed to keep a level head. You could not let your feelings for the Harrington boy cloud your judgement.

“I can’t, Steve,” you declined, gently removing your hand from his grip and placing it back in his lap. “You enjoy the movie, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

You began moving away, but before you could, you felt Steve grab your hand again. However, instead of simply stopping you from moving, he tugged you back and onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you to stop you from moving away from him again.

“Steve, what are you—”

“Can’t leave me if I don’t let you,” he mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder. The popcorn that he had in his hands had haphazardly been chucked into Robin’s lap in favour of holding you.

You realized that, to the untrained eye, you and Steve looked like a couple. Your heart began galloping in your chest at that realization. And it only sped up when you realized that you were actually in Steve Harrington’s arms at the moment. The thing you had fantasized about since the two of you began spending more time together—thanks to Dustin for dragging you both to help him fight his interdimensional lizard pet—was now becoming a reality, and you were not prepared for it at all. Besides, Steve was high. He might not even have meant to do it in the first place.

But the saying went “a drunk mind speaks a sober heart”. Well, in this case, it was a high mind, and if it was true, this could only mean one thing: Steve liked you back. It had to mean that, right?

“Hey, Dingus,” Robin whisper yelled, grabbing both your and Steve’s attention. “Do it.”

“Robin,” Steve hissed, sending her a glare—or, well, an attempt at one, “don’t. You promised you wouldn’t say anythin’.”

“Wouldn’t say what?” You did not know why you were even asking. There were more pressing matters at hand than whatever the two coworkers were about to bicker about. However, curiosity killed the cat, and this particular cat was super curious.

“I “promised”,” she began, using air quotes when she said ‘promise’, “that I wouldn’t tell you about his little huge crush on you.”

“Robin!” Steve gasped, although it was cut off by a laugh. “You broke your promise!”

“So?” Robin laughed as if what was happening was the funniest thing ever. “You weren’t gonna tell her. Someone had to.”

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. “You like me?”

Steve groaned and leaned his head back against the seat. “Yeah. I do.” He raised his head to look at you again. “I like you so much. Like, this much.” He removed his arms from around you to stretch it as wide as he could make it go. “Even more than that.”

You could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest at Steve’s rather child-like assessment. However, when you looked over to the side, you could see Dustin furiously beckon you over, making you snap back to reality. You scrambled off of Steve’s lap, apologizing to the man behind Steve and Robin when he quietly exclaimed at yet another interruption.

“Wait. I’m sorry if I scared you,” Steve hurriedly spoke up, his eyebrows furrowing together in a frown. “Please don’t go.”

Your heart broke at the sad look he gave you, but you knew you had to focus. There would be time to address all these things when your lives weren’t in danger. You would talk to Steve when he was not high out of his mind, either.

“I’m so sorry, Stevie,” you apologized sincerely. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

You did not wait for his reply. You took off towards Dustin and Erica, forcing any thoughts that weren’t strictly about surviving the night to the back of your mind. However, you still heard Steve whisper to Robin.

“See? That’s why I didn’t wanna tell her. Now she hates me.”

Oh, if only he knew how wrong he was. Now you had another reason to want to escape the Russians. You needed to give Steve a kiss and tell him exactly how much you didn’t hate him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

[william-t-sickofyourshit]

Once William scrubbed Sebastian clean, his boyfriend turned around in the bath to return the favour. The warm water splashed around them a little as they shifted. Now it was William’s turn to relax, and he did, very much enjoying Sebastian’s touch, and the way his soapy hands ran all over his upper torso and arms. 

William could already feel his muscles relaxing in the hot water, his head clearing out. He took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of bath oils. Ah, at the end of the day, no matter what difficulties they were facing, he and Sebastian always had each other. As long as this was true, William was sure they could tackle anything and everything. 

He chuckled at Sebastian’s question about his scars. He was glad that his boyfriend could joke about it a little like that. “Oh yeah, the scars make you look very metal. They’re hot.” William snickered, playing along. He leaned in and pecked Sebastian’s lips. “But maybe don’t get any more of those scars, okay? Cause if you get even hotter I might not survive it.” he teased. “And yes, I would love a scalp massage. I love it when you wash my hair.”

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[acesofspadess]

Track Walk

landoscar x content creator!reader

part 1

series summary: You were invited to the Miami GP for your Track Walk series on social media, what follows after you run into a certain Papaya boy, no one could prepare you for...

series warnings: cursing, angst, smut, making out, mentions of people you may not like, mmf, threesome/throuple, if there is more let me know... ;)

a/n: this a long 4 part series, but the chapters will be released daily!! also... there is no hate to anyone mention in this story, it is a work of fiction and any hate towards the characters/people will be deleted.

Miami 2024 

“Hello lovely F1 fans!” You said to the camera you were holding quite close to your face, “We’ve got a bit of a different setting today, because we are at the…” You took the camera away from your face to show the full setting, “Miami GP!”

You were a small F1 content creator who had become known for your at home ‘track-walks’. Every Thursday you would walk around your neighbourhood or get on the treadmill and walk the length of the race circuit for the weekend.

“This is my first ever GP, as you all know, and I just can’t explain to you all how excited I am. A big thank you to Liquid IV for sponsoring this trip, and this video. We are starting at the P1 box, because obviously. We’ve got a total of 5.4 kilometers to walk, so let's get to it.”

Throughout the walk you filmed information on the track, the city, the race, and even some snippets of fans who happened to know who you were.You were doing a light run when at one point in the video you saw a group of papaya and flipped the camera at them and slowed to a light jog, “I think those are our papaya boys, if I’m not mistaken.” You whispered into the mic. As you jogged past them you looked up and saw it was just Lando with some of his team. 

“Good luck this weekend.” You called out as you surpassed them. “Cheers!” Lando called out with a small smile. You smiled back and continued with your jog and video. “Meeting Lando Norris, can check that off the bucket list.” You laughed softly to the camera. When you made it back to the P1 box you started to end the video. “Well that was so much fun, thank you again to Liquid IV for bringing me out here. Cheers to a hopefully amazing weekend.”

An amazing weekend it was indeed. That Sunday you watched Lando Norris get his maiden win. It was safe to say you were crying in the VIP box as he crossed the line. That night you went back to the hotel with endless happiness, your life couldn’t get any better. Or so you thought.

You woke up that morning to your phone buzzing relentlessly. Every two seconds it felt like someone was liking, commenting, and following you. You sat up in shock logging into tiktok to see that your most recent track walk video had jumped from a few thousand views and likes, to millions of each, and your follower count was soaring as well.

You went through some of the comments laughing at them saying this was your first grand prix and it was the best one ever. Some said you wishing him luck was the reason he won and you replied to those comments teasingly.

It was a few hours later when you were getting ready to head back home that you saw the best notifications. 

Lando Norris liked your video

Lando Norris commented on your video

You were thoroughly freaking out. You opened tiktok for the hundredth time that day to see if your eyes were deceiving you, they were not.

Lando Norris: "Maybe this was my lucky charm. Thanks for the good vibes! 🧡"

You screamed in the comfort of your hotel room as you read it, replying back.

“I’ll need to come to a lot more races this season if this is the outcome. Congratulations! 🧡”

Hungary 2024

A few weeks had passed since Miami and everything that came with it. You still continued on your content journey with track walks and other videos with your new following. “Hello lovely F1 fans, old and new. We are here with another special edition track walk!” You cheered showing your surroundings. “I’ve been doing some overtime and made my way to the Hungaroring, so let’s go on a walk…” 

The walk itself went as normal, shared some info, showed the surroundings, and made it seem like a facetime time call. It was almost comical how when you were walking off the track you actually bumped into someone, that someone being Oscar Piastri. “I’m so sorry, I was not paying any attention.” You apologised immediately. He just chuckled, waving you off. “Don’t worry about it. Making a video?” He said looking at the camera. You nodded shyly. “Yeah another track walk.” He nodded at the information, slowly getting awkward. “Well, in true fashion. Good luck this weekend.” You bid and he thanked you with a chuckle.

Once again, it was a Mclaren win. This time, it was for Oscar. You were starting to go a little crazy. How was it that everytime you came to a race McLaren won? Again your video blew up, and like clock work, Oscar commented.

Oscar Piastri liked your video

Oscar Piastri commented on your video

You opened the video and tapped on the comments to see what he had put…

Oscar Piastri: Guess I owe you a huge thank you for the good luck wishes. Let's see if this works every time!”

You giggled lightly at the comment before writing a reply back…

“I’d go to every race if I could! Congratulations !!!”

Zandvoort 2024

Over the summer break you worked endlessly on your upcoming finals for your graduation in December. You were missing F1, and needed your fix. In a last ditch attempt at getting your best friend to come with you, you ended up back in Zandvoort.  “Hello F1 friends! We are here in Zandvoort, home of Max Verstappen. We’ve got lots of orange here so I’m just going to say everyone is in papaya.” 

There was no meeting on track this go around, but that night just as you were getting ready to call it, you got a DM from McLaren. You thought it was just a community thing and glanced at it, but when you saw your name, you sat up quickly. You opened it with shaky hands and read the message:

“Hey Y/N!! Hope you're enjoying your weekend in Zandvoort so far! You’ve got a name here in McLaren and we want to invite you to spend the rest of the weekend with the team in the garage! If you send us a photo of yourself, we can get you your passes by morning! Just give us a call when you get there and let us take care of everything else.” 

It was safe to say you might be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbours. Immediately you grabbed your camera and turned it on. “Hi friends, I’m shaking right now,” you laughed in shock. “McLaren just invited me to their garage this weekend. What the fuck?!” You showed the camera your phone where the message was still up. “Your girl is going to the McLaren garage, which means vlog time.”

You cut the video there and replied to McLaren with immense gratitude and a photo.

Walking up to the paddock entrance you had phoned McLaren and let them know you were walking up. You saw someone in Papaya and they waved at you enthusiastically. She passed you your passes over the barrier so that you could scan in. “This is crazy.” You said while she laughed. “I run all the social media accounts, and when I saw your videos I just had to pull some strings for you. You’re genuine, we like that at McLaren.” She told you honestly and you smiled bashfully. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

She then gave you a run through of everything happening in the garage, in the hub, and in the paddock revolving McLaren. The paddock wasn’t new to you, but this whole experience was strange to you. “And then you have a scooter to get around as well. Just don’t hit anyone because papaya is an easy colour to notice.” You laughed with her knowing how true it was. “I’ll do my best.”

You bounced between sides all morning, watching the teams set up the car for Lando and Oscar. You loved both drivers equally, you would never be able to choose one. You were on Lando’s side not paying much attention to your surroundings when two bodies stood in front of you. You looked up to get out of the way when you saw Oscar and Lando. “Following us now?” Lando asked with a smile. “I should ask you the same thing.” You shot back and Oscar chuckled. “They told us this morning you would be here for the rest of the weekend. It’s nice to see you.” Lando nodded in agreement and smiled happily. “It was a last minute decision to come,” you told them, “and then I got invited into the garage, it’s definitely going to be a good weekend.” The three of you laughed softly knowing the hidden meaning. “Well I’m certainly looking forward to a win this weekend.” Oscar shared. “She was my lucky charm first.” Lando pointed out. “Don’t fight!” You laughed, “I’ll be cheering the both of you on, see?” You took off your hat to show the underside of the brim. Each side had a number on it. “I stitched two of them together.” You informed. “That’s actually really cool.” Oscar said, taking the hat for a closer look.

“Your nails! Osc look at them.” Lando said taking your hands in his and showing off your nails, one hand was dedicated to Lando and his famous helmet design, and the other side was Oscars helmet design with a croissant on the ring finger. “Very funny.” He said when he saw it. “It was this or a cat.” You shrugged and Lando laughed as Oscar shook his head.

“Boys!” The two drivers looked behind them to see the clock counting down. “I will not be the reason you two don’t win this weekend so do go.” You pushed them lightly. “Thank you for coming, we’ll chat again later.” Lando said, going in for a hug. “Of course, go top both practices.” You cheered as Oscar also gave you a hug before the both of them went to their respective sides of the garage.

f1gossipofficial 

liked by user4 and others

f1gossipofficial Who’s that? Today before FP1 both McLaren drivers were seen talking and hugging with someone in their garage. In a different view, we can see that the person is content creator Y/N L/N who has gone viral for being the duo’s ‘good luck charm’. The three seem to be very cosy considering they’ve never officially met. 

view comments

user4 THAT SHOULD BE ME

user5 she posted a mini vlog on her tiktok this morning! She said McLaren dm’ed her and asked for her to be in the garage

User9 awwe that’s so sweet of McLaren to do for her 

user6 something about her doesn’t seem right

user7 don’t start, she’s one of the nicest people I’ve seen on tiktok

user8 another McLaren win is incoming

The following two days of the weekend were spent filming and nerding out over being in the garage. Lando and Oscar of course got super busy over the following two days, but they still managed to give you a wave when they could. Watching the race from the garage and hearing the live feed, watching the pit crew get ready for the pit stops, the actual pit stops, it was beyond magical for you. And without fail, one of the boys won, this time in Lando’s favor by 20 seconds.

You got to celebrate with the team, some of them recognising you and saying you needed to be here more often. Days like this were what you dreamed for. In between the chaos, you never managed to say goodbye to the papaya drivers, but they did DM you.

Lando Norris has followed you

Oscar Piastri has followed you

You’ve been added to a groupchat with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri

Your eyes almost flew out of your head when you saw the notifications. This wasn’t happening, you thought but you clicked on it anyway.

Lando Norris: We didn’t get the chance to say goodbye, but we just wanted to thank you for your support and coming to as many races as you can!

Oscar Piastri: Lando’s said it all, but hopefully you can come to another race soon, and we’ll try to win even if you can’t.

You laughed at the very opposite but almost the same message from each of them. Your hands were shaking as you replied back.

Y/N L/N: You were having too much fun celebrating the win! A big thank you to you guys as well for making it so easy to support a great team. Hopefully I can get to a race soon! If not I’ll be watching from home still cheering you guys on!

Oscar Piastri: you don’t have to be so formal 😂I feel like we can call you a friend if you keep helping us win

Lando Norris: what osc said, don’t be a stranger.

Y/N L/N: no need to bully me! You’re a-listers! How else was i supposed to respond

Lando Norris: OMG!!! I can’t believe you texted me!! You followed me too OMG OMG OMG. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 🧡🧡🥰🥰🥳🥳 ASGKWBEWOEHJ

Oscar Piastri: like that ^^

Y/N L/N: that’s what I’m doing on the inside lol, but i think I would block myself if I did actually typed that

Lando Norris: yeah it was a bit weird to type 😂

Oscar Piastri: great, now I have two of you

You tilted your head at the comment but shook it off. You were pretty similar to Lando on the goofy side of things.

Y/N L/N: Don’t worry Oscar, when I’m not on an adrenaline high like I am right now, I’m more like you than you think

Lando Norris: great, now there’s two of you

Oscar Piastri: i’ll have to see this in person then

Y/N L/N: is that an invite I’m hearing?

Lando Norris: sounds like it to me.

Oscar Piastri: it was indeed.

Y/N L/N: i’ll see what my work and class schedule looks like and I’ll get back to you on that offer. Graduation is soon so i’m balancing a lot of things

Lando Norris: its my offer too!!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: what do you go to school for?

Y/N L/N: noted Lando, and sports journalism, dream job is to work in F1.

Lando Norris: That’s mint! I think you’ll do good

Oscar Piastri: you’ve got a very warming personality that I’m sure all the drivers will like. If you ever need to practise, we’re here.

Lando Norris: If you twist my words I’ll know you did it

Oscar Piastri: Lando!

Y/N L/N: Lando!! 😭 I promise I won’t, this season especially really helped push me into this because I hate the way the media portrays two/three of the nicest people ever.

Lando Norris: i know we’re the two…but who’s three

Oscar Piastri: guess 🦁

Lando Norris: NOOOOOOOOO

Lando Norris: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEE

Oscar Piastri:  😂😂😂

Y/N L/N: IM SORRY!!! I CAN’T HELP IT!!

Y/N L/N: Oscar!! Why would you throw me under like that!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user is no longer available*

Lando Norris: invite has been taken back.

Y/N L/N: nooo!!! I’m sorry!!! OSCAR!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user apologises for the chaos he has now unpacked*

Baku 2024

Within the three weeks that passed between Zandvoort and Baku, Oscar and Lando never stopped texting you. The three of you figured out you had a lot in common and clicked like magnets. Over that time, you had plenty of new followers and decided to do a Q&A on your tiktok.

“How am I able to go to so many GP’s? Are you a millionaire?” You laughed after reading the question. “I’m not a millionaire by any means. I saved up for about a little over a year, didn’t go out with friends unless it was a birthday, didn’t buy unnecessary stuff, just was really good with not spending so I could treat myself this year. I’m in my last months of uni, which I got a full scholarship for, so not having to worry about school costs is also a great help.”

“Have you spoken to Lando and Oscar since your time in the garage? They follow you now too.” You thought quickly about it, “I haven’t no,” oops. “They were just being polite and doing their jobs when they saw me in the garage. As for the following thing, I can’t tell you why they decided to do that, but I'm not complaining.” You chuckled.

“What are you studying in Uni?”

“I’m in my final months of my sports journalism major. That's why I’m a big fan of F1, but also F1 got me into journalism, it's a circle of interest.” You mimicked drawing a circle that never ends.

In those three weeks you had also moved your group chat out of Instagram.

Osco: Is it terrible to say I miss having you in the garage?

Landito: wow Osc, straight to the point

Osco: leave me alone

Y/N: if it's anything I miss being in the garage, but no it’s terrible

Landito: what he means to say is…. we miss seeing you in person

Osco: facetime isn’t enough

Osco: come to Baku?

Landito: we took back her invite remember?

Osco: you took back your invite…

Y/N: i’ll be there already

Landito: WAIT REALLY???

Osco: is this a prank?

Y/N: yes really

Y/N: and no not a prank

Osco: answer please

Your phone started ringing just as you read it. You were in no position to be facetiming two people you now had a crush on… yeah, that also happened over the three weeks. You tried to tell yourself they were just being nice and you were caught up, but the way they acted sometimes led you to believe otherwise.

“Why am I looking at the ceiling?” Lando pointed out. “Because I am in no way showing you what I look like right now.” You laughed at them. “Yes you are.” Oscar commented. “We facetimed you for a reason.”

“Face please.” Lando asked sweetly, and you rolled your eyes. There you were in your McLaren x Reiss jacket, curls thrown up into a mix of a bun and ponytail, and glasses over your eyes. “You wear glasses?!” Lando said peeking over Oscar’s shoulder. They were always together, you started to realise.

“Yes, Lando. I wear glasses.” You shook your head with a small smile. “Well, you look beautiful as always. What’s this about you coming to Baku and not telling us?” Oscar moved on swiftly. “It was supposed to be a surprise! I was-”

“Nope, if it’s a surprise we shall wait.” Oscar cut her off. “I don’t want to wait though.” Lando groaned from behind him. “It’s in 2 days, Lando.” Oscar said, looking at the head that was now on his shoulder. “2 days too long.” He mumbled. “I promise it’ll be worth it!”

And worth it it was. After your track walk, there you were, the media pen, questions about the upcoming weekend ready, with an F1 TV microphone in your hand. F1 had reached out to you after your Q&A video asking about your sports journalism career. One thing led to another and here you were.

“Hey Max, first things first, how are you feeling this weekend?” Max smiled. “I mean, I’m feeling fine, I definitely need to get in the car to see how we do on track. Not very well if you’re here though.” 

“You know who I am?” You asked in shock. “All other drivers hope you don’t make it to the races with the track record you have, but someone told me I was one of your favourites.” Of course they did. “Well they wouldn’t be lying.” You chuckled shyly. 

Max leaned on the gate as you got your questions ready. "This year has seen a shift in the competitive order with McLaren and Ferrari stepping up. You’ve still proven to be one of the best drivers this season and currently lead the Drivers' Championship, with Red Bull fighting to stay at the top in the Constructors’. With three titles already under your belt, how do you maintain focus when the dominance you’ve grown used to in both championships isn’t guaranteed anymore—especially heading into a high-risk, high-reward circuit like Baku, where unpredictability often plays a major role?"

Max seemed a little shocked with the question. “I mean…” You nodded along as he answered and when he finished and the camera was off he smiled. “Those were very good questions. I look forward to seeing you the rest of the weekend.” You smiled at him. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

You got similar style compliments from other drivers and when the papaya boys walked in and spotted you they both smiled but had to work their way down the pen. Oscar was the first to get to your station. A quick glance to his eyes showed the professionalism he was using to hide the sheer excitement at seeing you again. “Hey Oscar, you’re going into this weekend with a double podium from Monza, how are you preparing for this weekend to get the same results if not better?”

Oscar chuckled. “Well if you’re here then a McLaren win seems to be in the cards.” You shook your head at him as he smirked. “But…”

“Thank you Oscar, good luck this weekend.” Before he left he reached over the barrier to give you a quick hug. “Nice to see you again.” He said before walking off. Lando quickly took his position and gave you his eye-closing smile. “Hey you.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Hey Lando, after the double podium in Monza, it’s clear that McLaren has made significant strides this season. With the Constructors' Championship in reach with just 11 points to Red Bull, how do you approach a circuit like Baku, where opportunities and risks are amplified? Do you feel this weekend could be pivotal in swinging the fight for the Constructors’ in McLaren’s favor against Ferrari as well?"

Lando tilted his head. “You’re one of the only people who’s brought Ferrari into the Constructors fight.” He pointed out and you shrugged lightly. “You’ve said before that Red Bull isn’t your competition, Ferrari is.”

Lando’s interview came and went just as quickly as Oscars and he too ended the interview with a hug. Charles and Carlos were just after and both of them mentioned knowing who you were and to take a stop at their garage.

The weekend went really well. Any free time you had was bouncing between garages and meeting new people. And like clock work, McLaren won the race, in Oscar’s favour. You were doing post race interviews and the wide smile on Oscar’s face when he saw you made your insides warm. “Please come to every race.” He joked and you laughed lightly. “Congratulations on your win today Oscar, after some very good fights with Charles…”

Because you had to go through every driver, and then got invited to talk about your experience on F1 TV-

“We are bringing on the voice you’ve heard all weekend, Y/N L/N.” Laura introduced as you walked into the middle of the group. “How are you?” She asked. “I’m doing really amazing. It’s been such a busy weekend for me, all thanks to you guys for inviting me and giving me some on the field action.”

Will Buxton spoke next. “You’ve become a big name here, everytime you come to a race, a McLaren driver wins. How is that even possible?”

You laughed alongside the rest of the panel. “I just put 50 kilos of extra weight in everyones car before the race this time. I think I’ll run the engine out next time though. Make everyone have grid-penalties.” You joked and they all laughed again. “It’s been so nice having you with us this weekend! We hope that you can join us again sometime soon!”

-you were able to stay much longer into the evening. Making your way to the McLaren garage you saw that they were prepping for a team photo and you quickly got your camera out to snap the moment for yourself. “No, you get in here too!” Zak yelled seeing you and the team cheered in agreement. You shook your hands not wanting to spoil it but then you were getting picked up from behind by a shoeless Lando and plopped right to Oscar.

Oscar placed an arm around you with a wide smile. “This is too much.” You told him. “Nope, it’s not.” He smiled again. You shook your head but smiled and cheered for the picture as well, and then the champagne. The team member next to you handed you their bottle with a wink at Oscar. Right as the photo ended you shook the bottle and made sure to douse Oscar as he tried to run away. Lando also joined you and the three of you were getting drenched in everyone else's champagne.

“There are two of you!” Oscar joked. “Yeah you might be right about that.” Lando laughed, clearing champagne from his eyes. “That was fun!” you laughed clinking Oscars champagne bottle. “You’ve got about 5 minutes before you start to smell.” He laughed and then your face fell. “I don’t have a change of clothes!” Lando laughed as you freaked out and Oscar just hugged you. “I’m sure we can find you something to wear.”

They did, you were wearing a team kit from their spare room in the hub. It was enough to get you to your hotel room. “Want to ride with us to the hotel?” Lando asked coming to walk with you as you reached the doors to walk out. “Yeah that sounds good.” He took your hand just as you were going to exit. “We have to wait for Oscar.” He said and you nodded and without letting go of your hand he dragged you back towards the main area.

“Did you enjoy your weekend?” He asked as you two leaned against a wall. “It was an amazing weekend.” You smiled giddily, closing your eyes. “I hope this doesn’t change that.” You opened your eyes to see Lando coming closer to you, eyes looking down at your lips. You nodded lightly and he closed the gap between your lips. His teeth nipped yours, with a sense of impatience. “Just couldn’t wait could you.” You broke away with his head resting against yours. Oscar. Why did you feel so guilty? “Oscar I-” He just shook his head with a laugh coming to your otherside. “I won, does that mean I get a kiss?” 

You looked at Lando who still had that dazed smile, then back to Oscar. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He said and Lando shook his head. “We’re dating, now can I kiss you please?” He said quickly before taking your lips in his. His kiss was softer but still as impatient. “We’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He sighed when he pulled away. 

“Really?” You asked softly, hand coming to press against your tingling lips. “Yes, since we started texting you. Oscar and I just couldn’t get you out of our heads.” Lando said with a small smile. 

“I thought I was being delusional.” You chuckled softly. “Not at all.” Oscar's hand went to your hip softly squeezing. “Come to Singapore with us, please.” You looked at Lando who took your hand and held it in his own. “Please.” You nodded almost in a trance.

[maelstrom007]

@ghouljams the worms are worming. . . I was listening to Depeche Mode today and Personal Jesus reminded me of your cult leader Price AU and it just has a death grip in my brain. . . All I could think of the whole song was Price manspreading in a chair with Ghost, Soap, and Gaz posed around him in dramatic backlighting, doing his biding to keep his cult in check.

Price is obviously cult leader, we get it, we know it, he's so charismatic and clever and manipulative and influential we know we know we know.

Thinking of what the other boys roles would be in this whole thing though. . .

Gaz is definitely the person on the outside clocking discontented people and setting in hooks. Absolutely gorgeous man, charismatic as fuck, endearing and non-threatening (at first glance), such blinding loyalty that he is able to see and interact with the outside world and not be tempted to leave. This simultaneously makes him adjusted enough to 'normal' life that he gives off very little red flags when inviting people in. He's also the person who befriends the new follower and makes sure that they're only seeing what they're supposed to, and vetting if they'd be impressionable enough to add to the flock. Testing their resistance to peer pressure, vetting them and making sure they're impressionable enough.

Soap is the listening ear on the inside. His job is to ingratiate himself amongst the followers and report any findings to Price, both good and bad. So not only is he keeping an eye out for disloyalty, plans to leave, discontent, etc. but he's also looking out for personal things like lost personal possessions, low stakes concerns, anything that Price can use to give individuals 'personal' time with him that makes him seem attentive or even slightly omniscient to the more spiritual followers.

Ghost's job is really to be that of a smoke screen. He is very visibly Price's 'right hand man', outwardly intimidating and such a hard ass on rule following that he acts as a force pushing followers to the sphere of Gaz and Soap. Because they couldn't be that close to Price, right? No one but Ghost is. So surely they're safe talking about their doubts and confusion, as long as Ghost is out of earshot. I feel like he also makes Price more valuable by making him more unobtainable. Unless Price comes to you, you need to seek an audience with him through Ghost. And 99% of the time even if you do get to see Price, Ghost will be there. At least that's what people say anyway. Price definitely isn't telling everyone that he's 'made an exception just for them' and that 'this'll be a secret between the two of them'. Definitely not.

I have this notion that it would be one of those self sufficiency communes that has their own internal ecosystem, growing their own food, making their own clothes, etc etc. They would send the well behaved followers to set up a stall at the nearby towns farmers market to keep up appearances and make sure that nobody in the town really bothers them. Who gives a shit what the group of farmers in the middle of nowhere are doing when their produce costs next to nothing and tastes divine? Maybe they should go out there some time and see what it's like. . .maybe learn how to take care of a plant or two of their own? And you've always wanted to learn how to do pottery, the cute guy on the corner says they're hosting a class this weekend. . . . . . . . . .

[void-speaks]

🌧"Hm, we don't really have those kind of luxuries nor the necessity for them, so I just dive head in even if its pouring. I do enjoy rain quite a lot. It's refreshing."

🍳"Well, I'm not exactly the best, but I do know how to make the most basic of things. Sigh, I do wish I had the chance to learn how to cook something more cool and interesting, but oh well. Oh, surprisingly enough, I do. I used to hate any and all kind of chores before, but now it's just something you can shut off your mind for and do on autopilot. Mmm, probabaly omelets. No particular reasons, I just think it's neat."

🧼"It's not like we get much of a choice. In this economy, we shower whenever we can. I do enjoy showering, but I haven't gotten many chances to bathe before, so I can't really tell anything. Again, it's a miracle if we find gel in this situation."

❌️"Obviously I would. It does depend on who is telling me what, but just in general, I would. Hmm... Probabaly Crane. He's seen some shit and has a good base of knowledge about the world, more than me and Aiden have."

🏳️‍"Well, it's hard to say right now. I can't really imagine anything that would make me give up, but there's probabaly something. Like, maybe if I was in complete despair? I don't know, hard to say."

📖"Gosh, don't even get me started on books! I really, really love books. I've always loved reading books even as a child. I mostly favored fantasy and detective novels and sometimes romance I suppose. Queer romance specifically because. Well. Guess. I wouldn't say I have a lot of opportunities to read in that sense that new books that I haven't read are a rare thing to find right now."

⛸️"I'm not... too into sports, to be fair. Would parkour count as a sport? Probabaly not right now. Hm... I guess Carnage Hall fights would be considered a sport? In that case, I don't really follow that stuff at all."

😷"I have an average immune system, so I don't get sick too much. Well, 'staying at home' right now isn't exactly an option, however, when I get sick, I tend to not overwhelm myself with chores, but don't stay in bed all day either. Well, medical masks are surprisingly hard to find, and just regular clothing pieces won't do much, so I tend to stay away from people or be very careful around them."

🥼"No, I don't. Hm, what kind of uniform... To be fair, and don't quote me on this, but Renegade uniform looks sick as Hell."

🥂"Huh, I never really thought about it. I guess I just pat myself on the back or don't really acknowledge them at all."

🛴"Parkour. It's probabaly impossible to get around on a bike in this environment, but it would be nice if I could. Traffic rules aren't really a thing right now, so eh."

🕰"Hm... Now that I think about it, we don't do that too much? Or I suppose we just use the sun as our guide most of the time. Or Peacekeeper sirens or church bells if it's in Old Villedor."

🥰"There's many things that can make me... Well, not happy, but bring some kind of positive feelings for sure. As for loved... I don't know how to answer that."

🐇"I don't. I prefer to live in the now and here. Believing in this kind of thing would be an escapism method for me, and I prefer not to do that."

🎺"I'm getting tired of saying it, but there's not much choice we have nowadays. I'm starting to sound like my grandma... I think. But, if I had to chose from all the songs I know, my current choice would be that tape that Aiden showed me recently. I don't know its name, but it goes like... 'Some people cheat, some people sin, but ohhhhh I play to win, tu-tu-tu-tu-tu-tu-u-u-u-u-u,' and so on. Sorry, I'm not the best singer. Mm, no, not really. Never had a chance to learn. Probabaly the violin. I heard it's a difficult instrument, which is one of the things that intrigues me about it."

💽"Yes! I like collecting books, newspapers from the 'old times,' audio tapes and stuff like that. Really to collect information. But especially books. There isn't a particular reason, I just enjoy doing it. Or I suppose the reason would be that I want to know as much as possible about Villedor and its life and how life was for other people in the hot of the apocalypse."

🧋"Tea. By God how much I love tea. Especially black tea with thyme. I can't even explain it, I just do. My second top tea is from a specific brand, but it's also black tea with apple and... and some other berry. I don't know its name in English. Oh, that entirely depends on the season and how I'm feeling. But generally, I lean more towards warm or hot drinks."

🌻 random in-character questions

an ask game where, instead of replying from your perspective, you answer as if it's your original character/muse/self-insert/etc. answering the question ✨

🌧️ "When outside during the rain, do you use a raincoat, an umbrella, or something else? Do you enjoy rain?"

🍳 "Are you a good cook? Do you enjoy cooking? What's your favorite thing to cook?"

🧼 "Do you prefer to take a shower during the morning or evening? Do you like taking baths? What's your favorite scent of shower gel?"

❌ "Would you do something that someone told you not to do? Why? Is there someone you'd actually listen to more than everyone else?"

🏳️ "What will make you give up?"

📖 "What kinds of books do you read? Do you have a lot of time to read?"

⛸️ "What's your favorite kind of sport? Do you follow sports closely or don't care at all?"

😷 "How often do you get sick? Do you stay at home when sick or do you end up going outside to, say, get some groceries? If you go outside, would you wear a mask?"

🥼 "Do you have to wear a uniform somewhere? If yes, how do you feel about it? If no, what kind of uniform would you love to wear?"

🥂 "How do you celebrate you accomplishments?"

🛴 "What's your preferred way of getting somewhere - own car, public transport, a bicycle, or something else? How well do you follow the traffic rules?"

🕰️ "What do you use to check what time it is?"

🥰 "What would make you feel happy and loved?"

🐇 "Do you believe in other dimensions?"

🎺 "What kind of music do you mostly listen to? Do you know how to play an instrument, and if not, which one would you want to learn to play?"

💽 "Do you collect anything? Why?"

🧋 "What's your go-to thing to drink? Do you prefer cold or hot drinks?"

[shevathegun]

I just read a post about how Palamedes began to understand that cavs mix with and imprint on the souls of their necros because of what Alecto got from John, and I like that post, but I don't agree with it's conclusions.

I don't agree that what John got from Alecto was rage. John had rage. He had it in abundance. Anyone who's ever cared about anything the way he and his acolytes cared understands that rage. One does not secure for themselves a suitcase nuke without a bit of wrathfulness in their heart, you see. Everything we hear from John paints him as deeply self righteous, and deeply angry.

And I don't agree that what Alecto got from John is love. Alecto had love. Alecto had great love and fascination for the Earth and its creatures, retains great love for those which living people no longer remember, regards human beings as one creature amongst many, but always with fascination and curiosity. In Nona we see that to love is not simply human – to love is the will of the Earth, and to love almost indiscriminately, to give even the devouring wrath of another planet that same deep love and sympathy.

No, what John and Alecto gave one another was much simpler than that. John gave Alecto humanity. Deeply unwanted, singularizing humanity – he trapped that nigh infinite power and wisdom and emotion, that deeply inhuman complex state of being, in a human body inspired not even by humanity itself but by a non-living effigy of idealized womanhood, and gave her the name of an avenging goddess. That was what he wanted her to be.

And by the same token, Alecto gave John her inhumanity. Earth is not a person, it is not singular – she is more vast and complex than any living being could ever be. The nearly inarticulatable way Nona experiences life as a corporeal being, nearly folds in on herself from trying to remain so small, is indicative of the life Alecto has been forced to live ever since John trapped her like this, devoured her whole with the gift she gave him.

There's something very fitting about the cannibalism metaphors that spring up in The Locked Tomb – namely that one of the reasons why cannibalism is viewed as a taboo act is because it involves reducing someone with the same ability as yours to think and feel complexly to the role of animal, and consuming them. We ascribe the act of consumption to what we view as lesser beings. In devouring the souls of their cavaliers, necromancers become something more than human, something immortal, something Worse.

When John ate Alecto, he was not devouring a lesser being. He wasn't even devouring something like himself in its ability to think and feel. He was devouring something with a greater ability to feel than he had the capacity to fathom by such orders of magnitude that the act itself is perverse.

He was a man devouring the earth.

John became a god because in coming into contact with Alecto's soul, he lost the part of him that showed him his place in the universe as a singular piece of a whole species. In attitude, he remains a self righteous, wrathful man completely immune to all attempts to dissuade him from what is now a centuries long lost cause. But in affect, he is a god. The power and disaffection of a planet contained within one man.

Alecto was born angry, but not because that's how she's meant to be. John perverted the natural order, made the Earth his literal toy, to serve only how he, in his hubris, thought she ought to be, to feel only how he thought she ought to feel. That's how humans tend to think of the Earth, right? As something fundamentally unliving. An object, maybe a force. Not a soul.

But in Nona, even she came to understand that she was so much more complicated than a sword, or a doll. Alecto has now lived within two human beings – and you're right that in one of them, through contact with their soul, she remembered how deeply and profoundly she loved living things.

The soul that reminded Alecto how she, as a planet, loved (loves, still loves) was not John.

It was Harrow.

[tsukii0002]

I'd like to request a situation where the brothers react to MC doing that trend about girls calling their boyfriend "husband" in front of people. For example

*MC and a bother (any) are at a restaurant and a waiter has come to take their order*

MC: so I'd like this and this, and my *husband* (pointing at the brother) would like-

The brother: *melting inside and panicking*

Then they'll bug MC for the entire day, maybe even week

<3

Hi! , thanks for the suggestion, I loved thinking about these situations. I hope you like it.

Warning: I wasn't sure how to write these situations so the formatting may be a bit messy, and in this case Mc is the same person as the reader.

Lucifer

You had invited Lucifer to the human world, to one of your favorite coffee shops where you were already known, to give the eldest of the brothers a break. When the waitress approached you, she recognized you immediately.

Waitress: Hello Mc! Good to see you, who is with you today?

Mc: Hi, this is my husband.

The only thing that changed in his expression was a slight blush on his cheeks, but from under the table he reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. The waitress smiled mischievously and after leaving the menu she left. Then Lucifer's face colored more and he caught you in his arms. You could see the adoration and embarrassment on his face.

Lucifer: Should we stay here for a few days my spouse?

Mammon

You had gone to the cinema with Mammon, he was a bit discouraged because he had just lost money at the casino, so although he had accepted he was rather quiet. You went ahead to order the drinks.

Employee: What are you going to order?

Mc: Oh, I'll have the demon combo and for my husband the spicy combo.

You saw how the demon's skin bristled, as if an electric shock had hit him. He looked at you wide-eyed, his face very red, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth without saying anything. You paid and went to the screening room, he kept covering his face the whole time.

Mc: *smiling* Is something wrong?

Mammon: You... *still blushing* say it again…

Mc: What do you want me to say again husband?

Mammon: *shyly* Don't forget it ok? *hugging you tightly* I'm your husband and you're my spouse.

Levi

A package had arrived for Levi, he asked you to take it even though he was following you very closely. The delivery man didn't seem sure it was yours.

Delivery man: Is it for you?

Mc: No, no, it's for my husband.

You could feel a high-pitched squeal. Levi felt his body stop working, and soon he was a mess, opening and closing his mouth trying to say something with no success. He had to have misheard, there was no way you could have called him that, was there?

Levi: A- Aaa… *stammering* Are you serious???

Mc: Of course.

Levi: For real ???? Are you sure??!!

Mc: *laughing* Yes xrubbing his nose* now could my husband help me with this????

Levi: New achievement unlocked!!!! You have been promoted to husband!!! *looking at you with crystalline eyes* I promise not to disappoint you… spouse…

Satan

Satan had asked you to accompany him to an event, the place was full of the demon's acquaintances and he was so busy greeting them all, that you ended up talking to one or twi.

Random Demon: Where do you know Satan from?

Mc: Oh, he's my husband.

Satan, a few steps away from you, kept talking for a moment and then stopped, turned very slowly to look at you with an expression of being very afraid that he had imagined those words. But when you smiled, his face instantly flushed. Trying to remain calm, with trembling hands, he ended the conversation quickly and approached you, taking your hands.

Satan: You…

Mc: Is something wrong *grinning*, my husband?

Satan took a breath while looking at the ground ashamed, all the demons nearby were watching. He let the air out and slowly pulled himself together while hugging you.

Satan: Nothing is wrong *smiling* spouse, let's enjoy this evening.

Asmo

You were out partying with Asmo, and, as usual, your demon was already surrounded by fans and admirers. Everyone was clamoring for his attention and it was clear that Asmo enjoyed the attention he was getting, so you simply smiled when a demon approached you.

Demon: Asmo is your friend right?

Mc: Asmo? *raising your voice* he's my husband.

Asmo's cheeks lit up and his whole body seemed to glow even brighter. He brought his hands to his face, everyone was impressed, the confident Asmo was beautiful but the embarrassed Asmo was an equally pleasing sight. You walked over and held out your hand.

Mc: We should go home *smiling* husband?

Asmo rushed into your arms and started kissing you, while the color in his cheeks became more and more accentuated.

Asmo: What have I done to deserve you? I love you so much Mc.

Mc: Just that?

Asmo: *shaking his head* I love you with all my being… spouse.

Beel

Beel had offered to accompany you on some errands related to the sorcerers' society. While you were talking to some of them he was watching you carefully. But some of those eyes were fixed on him.

Sorcerer: Is he…? You know…

Mc: Oh? Beel? He's my husband.

The eyes of the sorcerers opened wide while Beel, took a few seconds to assimilate your words and immediately became very red, He looked at the ground did not know where to look. His hands were moving without finding a position and he had started to sweat.

Mc: Isn't it true?

Beel slowly looked into your eyes before looking back down at the ground, with that embarrassed puppy face, as he nodded silently, but with a big smile. You moved closer and he put his arm around you protectively as he leaned down to caress your cheek with his own.

Beel: So if I'm your husband… that makes you my spouse, right? *radiant smile*

Belphie

You and Belphie were lying in the attic, Belphie was half asleep while you were on a video call with your friends in the human world.

Friend: Oh Mc, is someone there?

Mc: Yes, this is Belphie *showing him with the camera* My husband.

Belphie's sleep faded instantly, and he looked at you with wide eyes, you smiled at him while your friends screamed in excitement, then he pouted a little while his cheeks lit up.

Friends: Why didn't you tell us any-

Without thinking he snatched the phone from you and cut the call, hiding in the crook of your neck. He squeezed your hand and looked at you, looking angry but unable to hide his embarrassment or excitement.

Belphie: So I had a spouse and I didn't know about it?

Mc: I don't know...*pushes his bangs aside* maybe I was wrong?

Belphie: No *hugging you tightly* only I am your husband, and you are going to have this husband forever… remember that.

.

.

Hi, I realized that I had a few finished requests that I had left in drafts *internal scream* 🙃 how can I be so forgetful!!?? I will upload them during the next few days, so I'm really sorry to those who asked for them. Another thing is that I was extending the situations as the brothers are passing, well Lucifer is the most popular (?) so it's fine 🙄.

If you've read this far thank you very much 🩷.

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[lennadanvers]

The Heartbreak Chronicles

 Edward The Freak Munson was your first love.

(In more than one way).

(None of them ended up well).

High school Edward was something. Jean and leather, band t-shirts and patches. The shiny chains were still there. He had picked up guitar and stuck with it, as you found out at the talent show. His hair and his opinions had grown.

And his big, sad eyes were still there.

He had a reputation now: dangerous, freaky, dark. Maybe it was true. Maybe it had always been. It was just that people took a while to realize. He was the same over dramatic, fun, imaginative boy you had lost. Except that he took his drama all the way up to the tabletops of the cafeteria now.

It was hard not to enjoy the show. It was even harder to wonder how would it be to know him again. He had so much determination and sarcasm, he was so over the way the world worked, so full of disdain and passion… As someone who had served under the Queen’s orders- even if it was a fantasy queen, years ago, in the battlefield that was kindergarten-, you wanted to be loved by him.

How would anyone not want to be worthy of his love?

You knew better, of course. He had distanced himself. And yeah, maybe it had been a long time ago, but why should you give him another chance? No, sir. You didn’t have many things, but your pride was something no one could take from you.

Besides, he had never asked for another chance.

But he was fucking everywhere. He had founded the coolest club in the whole state. His van took up half the parking lot, a lighthouse in the middle of a naked shore. His hair was impossible to miss in the hallway, and your lunches were plagued by him and his stupidly interesting speeches. He even showed up at every party, ready to supply the sheeples with the only best weed in Hawkins.

And not once, in any of those scenarios, were you the object of his attention.

You could have stayed away, of course. It was just a matter of willpower. But your curiosity was bigger. Also, the sheet to sign up for Hellfire Club ended up being taped to the wall right next to your locker. It had to be a sign, if fate could be any more literal: just sign the sign.

It was a terrible idea. Made your nerves skyrocket and your appetite disappear, and your hands were trembling more than usual. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go back if it turned out to be as awful of an experience as you feared.

It was much, much worse: your first day at Hellfire was amazing. You had actual fun- something you hadn’t had in years, if you were honest. The boys were nice in a warm way, talking over each other and, frankly, more excited about the game than you. It was great, because it didn’t make you feel like a guest, but like you belonged.

And Edward welcomed you.

After years without talking to you, without even glancing at you, he smiled and bowed, arms wide as if to show you his kingdom.

“Be welcome to our humble table, mighty lady. Be prepared to face more adventure than you’ve ever heard of, more danger than you can fear and to conquer more victories than anyone can dream.”

He acted that way with everyone. And he lied.

You had heard of that much adventure, sure as hell. Actually, some of his adventures sounded familiar- they were detailed evolutions of childhood games.

But you fell for it anyway. It was good to be back home.

Even if he stabbed you in the back every now and then.

After the first session, as everyone was tidying up, he had cocked his head at you.

“We used to play together when we were kids, didn’t we? You’re not as boring as you look.”

And he had the audacity to wink, as if it would do anything but burn. So you punched back.

“Oh… Did we? I have a pretty bad memory. Sorry.”

Cue innocent and nonchalant shoulder shrug, finished off with a tight lip smile.

The second time Edward Munson broke your heart was worse, because you saw it coming. And you still followed him, like a reflection on a dark mirror, like you had no choice but to help him shatter you.

Second part! The next one is Eddie's POV! Please comment or reblog if you like it, that really motivates me to keep writing! Also, my inbox is always open (not just for requests and ideas about fics, you can also come say hi and tell me about your day or whatever you want to talk about). If you want me to add you to the taglist, just let me know!

Taglist: @arabellagreenleaf , @stylesxmunson , @am0iur

[jinlin-at-the-moon]

gonna be a bit nitpicky about the last reblog above, but what is tumblr for if not discussions, so...! i feel like many forget to take into account that airplane didn't originally set up binghe as a stallion protagonist of any kind - in fact, in the original outline, luo binghe never had any romantic interests at all, which is a VERY interesting tidbit that i wish more people would remember, because what the hell was the original outline is something that keeps me up at night.

THAT BEING SAID: personally, i do like to go with the interpretation that airplane was fully aware of his own sexuality, because it kind of makes the whole pidw-as-a-stallion-novel thing more tragic given luo binghe is... well, kind of airplane's self insert in many ways. and, honestly, he probably created the commentary aspect of it that is so clear to us as the readers unintentionally - at least at first; honestly he might have leaned into the irony of it all later imo, given his own seeming awareness of how utterly sad everything he writes is (because let's all face it as a community - given what we know of the original draft, airplane shooting towards the sky was a pure whump writer before he got forced into writing bad het porn for money. this is fascinating to me for other reasons, but i've already gone way off topic for this post, so uhm. another time on that maybe).

also, on the original post- i personally see binghe in general as pansexual-but-severely-demiromantic adjacent, given that, like.... i really don't think one could have sex with That Many Women without feeling something, and i also feel like it would be kind of dishonest to completely disregard him being anything but gay-or-straight when he did, in fact, in the end sleep with all those women and marry them. i do still think airplane's gay though, actually, because binghe's eventual sexuality meta-reflecting airplane's need-money-to-survive based writing decisions is deeply interesting to me- but all this leads back to the demiromanticism that op has already mentioned, in that it's likely bingge never formed a deep enough connection with anyone to truly fall in love the same way binghe had a shot to in his own life. (i'm honestly also of the take that bingge doesn't actually fall in love with shen qingqiu in the bingge vs bingmei extra, but AGAIN that would be material for an orginal post and not a reblog that's already full of me yapping for far too long.) so. yeah, he's just really fucking sad in any universe huh

you know I am willing to give luo binghe massive amounts of shit for being totally deranged because he is such a dick but also like, his very favorite person in the world did open their relationship by abusing him for actual years and then just turn on a dime and start spoiling him

and since he never got an explanation for any of that, even before he got thrown off a cliff into hell he had to choose between rejecting one of three positive personal relationships he'd experienced in his entire life (and the only one where he was getting as much support as he needed) or structuring his understanding of personal interaction so that history was actually cool and okay somehow, and like

literally anyone in that situation would have come out with some fucked-up norms about relationships and boundaries. i can only blame him so much for not knowing where lines ought to happen! his dataset is fucked.

[kisakunt]

THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION

GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE

warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.

synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.

a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell

series masterlist

Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.

“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:

“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.

It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.

“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.

His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.

The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.

Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.

But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.

Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.

Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.

“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.

This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.

There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?

“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”

“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.

He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.

Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.

“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”

“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”

Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.

“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”

“Sounds like she’s ugly.”

“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”

Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.

Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.

“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.

“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.

“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.

“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.

“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.

“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.

It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.

Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.

“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.

“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”

“Wait, so you’re in?”

“Whatever.”

“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.

The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.

“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.

“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.

“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.

Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.

“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.

Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.

And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.

“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”

“Fuck is this? A video game?”

“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.

“Fine. A month.”

“Just a month?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.

“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.

“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.

“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.

“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.

“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”

There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.

A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.

“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.

Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.

“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.

“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.

“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.

“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”

“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.

He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.

1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina

2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober

3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)

4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)

5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)

He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.

He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.

taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie

[centrally-unplanned]

Anyway I wanted to write something a little more serious about the politics of the day - a trend many noticed in the 2024 election, and its aftermath, is all of these notable non-politicians jumping onto the Trump ship. You have certainly noticed the big ones doing it, the Musk-types. What I have also seen is the middle-road types - the podcasts slotting the admin into their current healthcare fad, the policy bloggers being like "Dear Trump, this is how to truly reform the government - my pet idea" and offering support. A sort of opportunistic bandwagoning. This does happen every election to some extent, but it is notable that it happened way, way less when Biden was elected.

Some view this through the lens of fear, of Trump's open willingness to tax or prosecute those who don't bend the knee. That is part of it, for sure. But the other part is that Trump doesn't really believe in all that much - and that is actually a pretty big asset in politics. If you are a "Progress Studies" blogger or a union rep or a tech CEO, does Trump disagree with any of your key issues? He might not! You can just "convince" him, that is actually on the table, and he might take up your cause. And the Republican Party - not always, absolutely not always, but sometimes - will be browbeaten into going along with his whims even if they contradict their previous ideology. If you are ambitious and play your cards right, the structure of the Trump admin can very much reward people along the lines of these pet issues.

This is something the Democratic party could not do. All policy from the Biden admin came from a decade+ process of being discussed within the party. There were absolutely, 100%, "factions" jockeying for influence, but it was insiders, pre-established orgs along known lines, who were doing that jockeying. Is there any big policy that the Biden admin pursued that truly surprised you? That you were like, "woah, where the fuck did Biden get this idea from?" Not really, right? Because the admin was in so many ways an extension of the party.

Now this can be a real strength when your political parties are strong. When the locus of politics is within parties, then naturally they should be informing directions, and your goal as an admin is to court them. But that is pretty much the opposite of the current US political landscape - political parties have never been weaker. Voters hate political insiders, primaries are completely open and people who openly oppose the party sometimes sweep them, voters don't get their political opinion or w/e from politicians or party orgs. Parties are downstream of where more and more political influence comes from (though ofc they are by no means powerless, this is all trendlines). If you are one of these political outsider types, the Joe Rogans or Progress Studies bloggers or crypto coalitions or whatever, the Democratic party is just not going to work with you? You will be "heard", but if you want influence you gotta put your decade+ into the party first.

But Trump? You just gotta show up and kiss the ring. For talented people, this is actually a much better deal. It probably won't work, but the odds are still better than the alternative. And the biggest looming wrinkle is that this strategy is being hamstrung by Trump being a total idiot and backstabbing asshole - imagine how effective these strategies would be if someone competent was doing it. His left-field ideas are not only "annexing Greenland", but also doing it in the most hamfisted way imaginable. The core idea here isn't that crazy btw! Greenland is pushing for greater independence from Denmark, but gets a ton of subsidies so is loath to lose them if they go solo. You can see how an intelligent operator charting some soft power politics here could maybe make something happen, but Trump is a fucking nob and can't do that. So he is often a bad vessel for your niche ideas. But at least he shows up to the game!

People sometimes really want politics to be ideological. They want a coherent political party with a unitary philosophy to implement a cohesive agenda. I get this appeal, but this just isn't how US politics, or democratic politics more widely, works. It is an endless process of factional recruitment for one-off reforms, and otherwise managerial policy (in)competence. Ideology is not elected, a "mandate" does not run for office. Some individual people win and then they invent a mandate afterwards. Democracy does not reveal consensus, it manufactures it. And the US is moving more towards that direction, not less.

My fear is Democrats, in "widening the tent", will focus too much on that internal party process, on trying to make the Democratic Party "coherently" something that is more appealing to the median voter. Valuable work, to be sure, but the other side is you need to make it more appealing to people of influence or talent. As others have commented, it is kind of baffling how the Biden administration committed itself to a policy of green electrification and banning foreign car imports, and somehow made an enemy of America's biggest domestic green electric car manufacturer. You need to be, on the margins, less committed to any specific ideology at all, and instead open to actually winning support from diverse factions. Otherwise the other side will always be more appealing to anyone not of your ideology, because they kind of don't care about ideology. The Dems are already the "bigger tent" party, this should be their wheelhouse. They just need to update their tactics for the modern era.