#our man is CLEVER

[superprofesh]

When I tell y’all I SCREAMED in the theater when he did this

This fire gag's real.

[skitskatdacat63]

His bullfighting days aren't over quite yet.

+

[princessefemmelesbian]

Well would you look at this. 😵‍💫 Because obviously if you dare say anything as wild and controversial as “lesbians don’t like men, please stop using a label that hurts us and tries to force men into our identity” you’re a raging terf radfem transmisogynist. Because obviously ONLY trans women use the bi lesbian label and it’s not like there are transfem lesbians who are rightfully against the label as well or anything and it’s not like terfs use the label to refer to cis lesbians who date trans women and why can’t you just let people identify as how they want of course lesbians like men stop the infighting already if you disagree with me that lesbians can like men then surely that’s because you’re an exclusionist gatekeeper who hates trans women.

[kylermalloy]

When I was in high school I used to perform gospel songs at church with one of my best friends. She sang, and I played accompaniment and sang backup. We were actually really close! Then I went to college and we suddenly weren’t anymore—she’d stopped talking to me so she could date this grown man she liked, who I hated.

So when I came home from college that summer, I stopped singing songs with her and started performing at church on my own. The first one I sang was about how people change for the worst slowly, over time. Anyway that’s MY silver springs

[lonely-soul-02]

"The internet will ultimately destroy the imagination of mankind." Noel Gallagher 2002

"There's too much information in the world. Who wants to know everything?"

He's right.

[dontmindme2600]

With all the “increase your brand’s diversity to save your ass every time you get into a controversy” thing companies have been doing (cough cough Activision Blizzard) I think we should create a name for this phenomenon if one doesn’t already exist. I vote for diversetion

[blightedcrow]

u ever go through recently posted stuff from ur queue and have to change tags cuz ur not the person u were 7 days ago when u queued it

[hauntingblue]

They don't dare hurt nassau's babygirl jack rackham

[ourceliumnetwork]

well no wonder it didn't feel like the ceiling fan was doing that much in my room. it was set to Winter not Summer.

[toxinoire]

Odysseus: What?! I can't move the wedding bed!

Penelope: Oh reeeaaaallllyyy why?

Odysseus: I made that as a symbol of our love! It's carved in a tree, it literally can't be moved!

Penelope: And why would you know? Oh wait, it's cause you're my fucking husband!

Odysseus: I-

Penelope: Like, no shit you've killed people. You went to a war, Odysseus. What do you think happens in wars?! Dance parties?!

Odysseus:

Penelope: War is literally the shortened version of the word manslaughter and trauma! No shit that's what happened!

Odysseus:

Penelope: "cLeVeReSt mAn iN gReEcE" BE CLEVER THEN oh my gods. I didn't wait twenty years just for you to ask me the stupidest question in existence.

Odysseus:

Odysseus: Damn I love you.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Too Much Like Me

Potter!Reader tells her dad she's been asked on a date.

Summary: James finds out Lily's type in men is apparently genetic.

Wc: ~1.7k

CW: Just chaotic fluffy hijinks - a jab about Americans

“Dad.” You trailed James into the kitchen, fighting to keep your voice calm despite the storm brewing ahead.

But James Potter, in all his dramatic glory, had gone entirely deaf. Arms flailing like a prophet warning of doom, he roared, “Family meeting!”

“No! No family meeting!” you yelped, lunging for his arm. You barely stifled a laugh as he flailed harder, like a fish trying to escape the net.

James spun around, courtroom-drama style, and gasped at you with the intensity of someone catching their child red-handed with a cursed artifact. “Fred Weasley? Our Fred Weasley? That Fred Weasley?”

“Yes, that Fred Weasley,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Merlin’s saggy balls, I regret telling you already.”

James slammed his hand on the counter for emphasis, pivoting toward the sitting room like a man possessed. “Lily!” he thundered, shaking the walls. “Lily, get in here! Your daughter’s lost her mind!”

“Dad, for Merlin’s sake!” You tried to grab him again, but James had started pacing now, looking like a wizard unjustly accused of crimes against decorum.

“Not in my house! Not under my roof!” He spun around, hazel eyes bulging with a level of betrayal that deserved an award. “Fred Weasley doesn’t know the meaning of curfew! Or- Merlin help us- a respectable bedtime! Do you think I’m letting that chaos into my family? After all I’ve sacrificed? For you?”

“James,” came Lily’s voice, calm but laced with amusement. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, her lips twitching. “What are you yelling about this time?”

James turned to her, a man on the brink. “Fred Weasley! He asked her out! Our daughter! On a date! Alone! With no chaperone!”

Lily blinked, then turned to you with a grin brighter than a Patronus. “Oh!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up. “He finally asked?”

James froze mid-tirade, pointing an accusatory finger at his wife. “Finally? What do you mean, finally? Have you been... supporting this? Encouraging it?”

Lily shrugged, her grin widening as she pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the kitchen. “He’s a lovely boy, James. Polite, clever, charming. He reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Don’t you dare—” James began, his tone low and dangerous.

“You,” Lily finished brightly, jabbing him in the chest. “Fred’s just like you were. All mischief and charm. No wonder she likes him.”

James gawked at her like she’d suggested selling their house to a pack of trolls. “That’s exactly why she can’t date him! I was Fred Weasley, Lily! Do you know what I would’ve done if someone let me date their daughter?”

“You married her,” Lily said sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, winking at you as it effectively stunned the red mess that was your father.

James froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, completely derailed by Lily’s well-placed jab and affectionate kiss. He finally managed to sputter, “That’s- That’s completely different!”

“How, exactly?” Lily teased, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms again. “Because if I recall correctly, you were a menace, Potter. A charming menace, but a menace nonetheless. Fred’s cut from the same cloth, and you turned out all right.”

James spluttered, gesturing wildly at you. “Because this is my daughter! She’s not supposed to fall for charmers like Fred Weasley! I can’t just let this happen! Where’s the fatherly dignity in that?”

“Oh, James,” Lily sighed, patting his shoulder with exaggerated pity. “I hate to break it to you, but you lost your ‘fatherly dignity’ the day you wore those matching Christmas jumpers with Sirius.”

“That was solidarity!” James barked, his ears reddening as he straightened his posture in a futile attempt at reclaiming authority. “And anyway, this is different. I’m supposed to protect her! Shield her from the heartbreakers and mischief-makers of the world.”

“Fred’s not a heartbreaker, Dad,” you said, exasperated but amused. “He’s actually- dare I say- nice? And maybe even mature? A little bit?”

James looked like he might faint. “Mature?! You’re telling me Fred Weasley- the bloke who turned all the Quidditch goalposts into giant marshmallows- is mature?! What next? He’s taken up knitting?”

“Knitting would be a good look for him,” Lily quipped, clearly enjoying herself. “Very soothing hobby. He could knit you a jumper, James, to match that dignity you’ve misplaced.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the visual, and James threw his hands up, pacing the kitchen again. “I can’t believe this. I’m being outnumbered in my own home.”

“It’s called democracy- like the Americans,” Lily said, smirking as she leaned against the counter. “And right now, you’re the losing party.”

James stopped pacing to glare at her. “Fred acts like a damned American..” He mumbled before he raised his voice. “This is treason. Pure, unadulterated treason.”

“James,” Lily replied patiently, though her lips twitched with amusement. “You’ll survive.”

At that moment, Harry wandered into the kitchen, his face set in curious confusion as he surveyed the scene. He held a plate of leftover treacle tart, chewing leisurely. “What’s with all the shouting, then?” He asked, his tone disinterested but his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

James immediately pounced, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Your sister has decided to go on a date with Fred Weasley, Harry! Fred Weasley! What do you have to say about that?”

Harry blinked at him, clearly trying to piece together the situation. Then his gaze slid to you, and his smirk grew as he swallowed a bite of tart. “Fred, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Nice. Bold choice. Never a dull moment with a Weasley.”

“Bold-? Harry!” James looked genuinely wounded. “This is a betrayal! Your own sister-"

“Is an adult,” Harry interrupted, shrugging. “And you’re acting like she’s run off to marry Voldemort’s ghost.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” you muttered under your breath, earning a snort from Harry.

“Not helping, Harry!” James barked, looking thoroughly frazzled now. He pointed at you again. “Fine! Go on your date! But I’m watching him. One toe out of line, and-”

“And what?” you challenged, grinning now as Lily watched on, clearly entertained. “You’ll duel him? Turn him into a marshmallow like his Quidditch goalposts?”

James opened his mouth, floundering for a retort, but Lily stepped in, tugging him gently away from the center of the chaos. “Come on, love,” she cooed soothingly. “Why don’t we sit down, have a cuppa, and let the kids handle their own lives for once?”

James sighed, finally deflating. “Fine,” he grumbled, shooting you one last suspicious look. “But mark my words- an eye for an eye! Harry, date his younger sister!”

Harry froze, the bite of treacle tart halfway to his mouth as the words sunk in. His eyes darted between you, Lily, and James, clearly trying to figure out if this was his moment to fess up or quietly Disapparate.

“What?” James demanded, noticing Harry’s hesitation. “What’s with that face? Don’t tell me you’ve already thought about it!”

Lily covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing immediately, doubling over as the image of James putting two and two together hit you.

“Why are you laughing?” James barked, looking between the two of you like he was missing the punchline to a joke everyone else got. “What’s so funny? Harry, explain yourself!”

Harry, clearly seeing no way out, sighed and placed his plate of treacle tart on the counter. “Dad,” he started, bracing himself, “I’m already dating Ginny.”

James froze. Completely, utterly froze. His jaw hung slack, his hands hovering mid-air like a malfunctioning automaton.

“You’re what?” He whispered, his voice teetering on the edge of shock and betrayal.

You howled with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. “Oh, Merlin, this is priceless!” You gasped. “Dad, your face- your face!"

“James, breathe,” Lily advised through her own laughter, leaning against the counter for support. “You’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

James finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes narrowing into sharp points of indignation. “Ginny?! Ginny Weasley?! First her with Fred, and now you- how long has this been going on?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to make himself look smaller. “A while.”

“A while?" James repeated, his voice cracking. “Define ‘a while.’ A few days? Weeks?”

Harry hesitated. “Since... fifth year?”

“Fifth year?!" James bellowed, looking like he might explode. “That’s years! Years, Harry! And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

“What was I supposed to say?” Harry shot back, clearly frustrated now. “‘Hey, Dad, by the way, I’m snogging Ron’s little sister’? That would’ve gone over well.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than me finding out like this!” James cried, gesturing wildly at nothing in particular. “My own son! Betraying me! I raised you better than this, Harry!”

Lily wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, James. They’re clearly happy, and Ginny’s a wonderful girl. You love her.”

“That’s not the point, Lily!” James snapped, his hands flying to his hair. “It’s- this is-!Fred! Ginny! My children and their Weasleys! What’s next? Ron’s going to marry into the family, too?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Well... technically, Hermione-"

“No! They got her too!?" James cut him off, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t even tell me! I won’t survive it! This is it- this is how I go. Betrayed by my own family and buried in a sea of Weasleys.”

You leaned against the counter, wheezing with laughter. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” James turned to you, his face a picture of righteous indignation. “You don’t understand. I fought a war for this family- for this! And now my legacy is going to be a house full of Weasleys!”

“Sounds cozy,” Lily teased, patting his arm. “You’ll come around, James. You always do.”

James groaned, sinking into a chair as if all the fight had been drained out of him. “Fine,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine. Date your Weasleys. Marry them. Name your kids Fred and Ginny Jr. for all I care.”

You patted his shoulder, grinning. “Love you, Dad.”

He shot you a glare but muttered, “Love you, too. But don’t think for one second I’m not watching Fred like a hawk.”

“And Ginny?” Harry asked, daring to push his luck.

James pointed a warning finger at him. “You, young man, are on thin bloody ice."

Lily hushed James as she patted his back, leading him out of the kitchen. He continued to blabber on, muttering something along the lines of;

“Is this my fault?”

“Merlin, does Molly know?”

“Bloody redheads- OW!”

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

  You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?” 

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him. 

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him. 

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.” 

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.” 

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

 He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant. 

 “What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.” 

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously. 

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?” 

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[sunniskyies]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Reader forgets she has Ford’s mind reading device on… 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!shy!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Makeout, fluffy shy stuff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k 𝐀/𝐍: This is so so so out of my league with this kind of thing, but I had a vision and had to try, so forgive me if it’s not the best !! ( you can read this as young or old Ford by the way ! )

“Are you going to tell me what exactly that is?” You ask shyly, perched neatly on a wooden stool in the deepest room of Ford’s laboratory. The man in question is bustling around the benches, plugging in wires and fiddling with dials and buttons.

“It’s a mental-strengthening device, able to encrypt one’s thoughts to prevent dream demons like Bill Cipher from entering.”

You purse your lips. “Ah. Of course.”

Ford looks briefly over at you while he tinkers. “I don’t want any chance of that creature making his way into our world. The damage he causes is… irrevocable.”

You fall silent, quietly studying the scientist’s practised hands and that little furrow in his brow you doubt he’s aware of. You see it often, in your stolen glances as you set his coffee down in the mornings, or when his eyes linger for a moment on his work when you call for his attention.

You let yourself sit in the warm feeling that spreads through your skin, toying with the fantasy of him for just a moment. Before you know it, Ford is approaching you with a gadget in his hands, and you’re pushing those silly thoughts from your mind.

“This is the receiver,” Ford explains, gesturing to the sieve-like helmet in his hands. “May I put it on you?”

All you manage is a ‘mhm’, and you hope your ears aren’t bright red when Ford places the bronze contraption over your hair. As he adjusts it here and there his fingers often brush your skin, you’re mortified as goosebumps shiver over your skin. Luckily, from what you know about Stanford Pines, he isn’t the most observant man unless you happen to have three eyes or an off-on switch.

Being Ford’s assistant has been the best opportunity of your life, but childishly you often wish for something more. To see those lips say your name not just to thank you for your helping hands. To have the confidence to show Ford the book of research you’ve been privately gathering, his eyes catching yours as he realises the potential he’d never seen in you before…

For the millionth time reality pulls you from your daydreams. Ford crouches down slightly, your faces level, your eyes on his while his are at your hairline. A six-fingered hand gently tucks loose strands back from your face.

“There,” he says, eyes catching yours. “Equipped. How does that feel?”

You swallow, voice a tad too squeaky, “All good!” 

“Perfect. I’ll begin the calibration, inform me if you experience any discomfort,” he nods, satisfied, before sweeping away again.

As you wait, you silently tap on your knees, looking around. You look over the table behind you to see a television screen with—

Your thoughts.

A string of your most embarrassing ideas visualised on a ceiling-high collection of screens, unarguably clingy and desperate desires paired with Ford’s name scrolling everywhere.

You whip your gaze over to Ford, dew already appearing over your skin. He seems to be engrossed in whatever's in his hands, but it’s only a matter of time before he sees all… that!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! The screens mirror the chant in your mind.

You try vainly to think of other things, random words and imagery slowly but surely creeping onto the televisions. Polar Bears. Adjectives. Pencils, pens, markers. Dates and historical impact of various civil wars. Charity raffles. That one catchy jingle. Discombobulation. Ambystoma mexicanum.

Ford looks up. “Finished!” He says with a quick smile.

You quietly clear your throat. “Uhm. Wow! This is very clever, Ford, although I must admit didn’t realise it displayed the user's consciousness?”

His eyebrows raise at your question, before his face softly twists with confusion as he stares at the reading. He glances back over at you with the face of someone just realising how stupid something is. Yet, you almost slump with relief. At least he only thinks you're simple, not a freak.

“Well, yes, it does. Did I not mention that?” He says slowly. “I was going to suggest you exercise your brain to ensure the program reaches every aspect of your cognition… but it seems you’re… already… doing that?” He questions hesitantly. Your smile is too-bright.

“Oh, yes, that is what I am doing. Yep.” You squeak.

“Right.”

The silence is palpable, a thick sludge that clings to your form. Sometimes both your wandering stares slide over each other, awkward blips before you both avert eye contact. You hear the hum of machinery, the soft tap of your shoe on the floor. Your fingers itch to grab your journal from your pocket to give yourself something to do with your hands, but you’re embarrassed at what Ford would see as you ponder over it. The silence stretches on and on, until you can’t bear not to break it.

“So, you, uhm, said something about exercising the mind?” You blurt sheepishly.

Ford’s eyes are immediately on you. “Yes! Yes, just try to keep your mind active, it helps the protection process.”

And the silence is back. Perhaps even worse than before.

Desperate for relief, you pull your journal from your pocket. You wave it weakly, “Mind if I do some work?”

Ford adjusts his glasses. “No, no of course not. Go ahead.” He gestures at the various desks stationed around the room. You shoot him a quick smile and spin on your stool to the table next to you, propping open the journal and continuing an essay you plan to submit as a paper in your current university course.

This works, taking your mind off your vulnerability as you focus on your work. This is what you love about science, about academia, the ability to lose yourself in something so complex, so worthwhile. You really can’t wait to get your research out there and make a name for yourself.

You write for a while, pen often times balanced between teeth. You don’t quite register Ford coming up behind you until his tilted head is in your peripheral.

“Fantastic,” he mutters absently, his face well and truly absorbed on the open page. Embarrassed, you half-heartedly cover the page with your hands.

“Oh, no, it’s really not anything special.” You mumble, eyes averted. 

“No, really, I love it. You’re studying quantum physics, right?” He insists, head tilted trying to catch his eye. When you do, he has a soft smile painted on. Your cheeks glow pink.

“Yes, I major in quantum physics and forensic science. I minor in biomedical engineering, and I’m additionally doing an online paper on parapsychology with the only university that does it, in, uh, Finland.” The sparkle in Ford’s eyes grows as you timidly recite your areas of study.

“Parapsychology? That’s brilliant!” He remarked, awed. “Why didn’t you say that, I would love to take you out on my field days. I study all sorts of paranormal and supernatural activity here. It'd be great to share it with someone.”

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you,” you say hushed, fending off a stammer. Internally, your heart is soaring. Yes yes yes!

“It’d be no trouble,” he says earnestly, soft features returned as if coaxing you out of your shell. “I knew you were smart, but I had no idea the extent,’ he says, almost to himself.

Your eyes lock on him immediately. “You think that?”

He seems surprised. “Of course I do. You’re an exceptional assistant, and you’ve been in study for ages. I’ve heard nothing less than great things about when I send my own work to our local university. Not many scholars live out here, you know?”

You can’t drag your eyes away from him, and you're sure Ford can see every star in the galaxy swirling in your pupils right now. This is everything, everything you’ve wanted.

You’re not sure whether it’s the surge of confidence, or the way Ford’s looking so gently at you, but you’re acutely aware of how low Ford has bent down to talk to you. It would only take a small movement to bring your faces together.

And so, heart fluttering with this moment of bravery, you rise slightly up on the balls of your feet and press a small kiss to Ford’s cheek.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the sensation in your chest borderline sickening. “It, uh, means a lot.”

Ford doesn’t say a word, eyes wide but painfully unreadable. The silence is once again, stifling.

“Not a lot of fellow scientists in this area, like you said,” You hastily ramble on after a long moment. The gap doesn’t last this time, though.

In a swift motion Ford’s hand is at your cheek. You barely have time to inhale before his lips are on yours, their warmth sinking against your mouth.

You’d never imagined them to be so firm, although his proximity doesn’t give your mind any room to think about anything. It’s all happening so fast, your mind dizzied as you reciprocate his intentful kisses.

Your pen clatters slightly on the table as your hand releases it, quickly gripping to Ford as his arms snake around you and lift you up. He spins, setting you on the table in the middle of the room. You’re sure at some point you have or will let slip an embarrassing sound, but you’re wholly focused on Ford and how you’re sitting at his level on the tall table; him standing before you with his hands at your waist. Your knees brush either side of his thighs.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, his hands in turn pull you closer. It’s eager and messy, making your pulse thud wildly. You never thought a man would want you like this, never catching an eye. Let alone the genius that is—

Abruptly, his lips leave yours, the emptiness not lasting long as they move just beneath your lip, then down to your jaw. They trail down to the side of your neck, lips brushing over the shiver on your skin. Small breaths leave your mouth when you feel a glimmer of teeth against your collarbone.

You tilt your head, resting against his where he’s kissing your shoulder in the crook of your neck. Your hands remain tangled in his hair, your eyes closed.

Your bodies are so close together, his lips are all-consuming. It’s bliss. The man you’ve loved for so long, holding you like he’s besotted. Like he’s just as infatuated as you. The thought thrills through your mind; He wants me.

“I can assure you, I most certainly do,” Ford murmurs breathlessly against your skin. You pause, the statement uncannily sounding like a response to your thought…

Oh. Oh no.

The machine. The mind reading. The television directly behind your back.

You haltingly turn your head, face pale. The screen is, in fact, still reciting your thoughts. Every thought. And Ford’s facing it.

“Oh my god,” You groan, palming your forehead. You sink into yourself, drowning in humiliation. But Ford’s hand fishes beneath your chin, tipping your glowing face to look at him. His face is one of endless kindness beneath his mussed hair.

“It’s really not a bad thing, sweetness.” He says gently. You shake your head slightly, eyes squeezing shut.

His thumb creeps up the side of your face, face dipping level to yours. “No, seriously. It’s a very encouraging thing for a man to see.” He jokes warmly. You peek an eye open. Heavens, did he have to look so irresistibly handsome all the time?

“Should I, uhm, remove…” you gesture at the contraption atop your head, teeth worrying your lip.

Ford hesitates for a moment, thinking as his thumb strokes your cheek. “No. No, it’s too important. I can’t have Bill infiltrating your mind.” 

You wilt slightly, but Ford once again brings you back to him. “It’ll only take a moment. Half an hour at most.” His eyes flicker fleetingly at your lips. “And besides, it’ll be sunset by then. I hear you can see a meteor shower tonight? If you drive up the hill a little.”

You hum a soft confirmation, smile melting onto your flushed features as Ford presses a last kiss to your cheek. “Good,” He murmurs. “I’ll go fetch the coats.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14 @2hiigh2cry @taffycandyqt @papi-machucha @muffin1304

 @space1crow @fries11 @yasuuuudere @shadowsandswords @darling-eos

@bloodspatteredprincess @snake-in-a-flower-crown @defmxl @ryanthatsgay2

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[burningembers91]

A Game of Cat and Mouse - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow Up Piece to: Freak of Nature On Display

Synopsis: Tired of being followed by the man in the grey suit, you decide the turn the tables

Warnings: Stalking, voyeurism, mentions of masturbation, the Salesman being kind of a sub

He was following you again. The man in the grey suit with the brown leather briefcase that probably cost more than you earned in a month. You clocked him about 100 yards back, his reflection visible in a shop window. You didn’t know how long you’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for. Any normal person would have been terrified at the prospect of being stalked, but there was something about the man who followed you that you found undeniably attractive. The day after he’d paid for your coffee, he was back out on the park bench, watching you from afar. You pretended not to notice him, going about your work as if he wasn’t there. Some days however, he would sit with you, making idle conversation as you watched the world pass by. You knew he followed you home, and one night you saw him sitting outside the restaurant across from you apartment. He noticed you too and raised his glass of soju in acknowledgement.

What was it that drew him to you? You weren’t anything special, weren’t anyone important. You were just you. You led a mundane life, filled with days that were all pretty much the same. Perhaps that was why you liked your new stalker; he injected the excitement that was so desperately missing from your world. You knew nothing about him, not even his name, but you were sure he knew lots about you.

You weren’t far from your apartment now, only two more minutes and you be safely behind your door. But you were tired of being safe; you wanted to see your grey suited man again, wanted to hear his voice, wanted to watch the wild way his almond eyes explored your body. You ducked round a corner, backtracking through an alleyway that ran down the side of your apartment. You could see your grey suited man from behind now, an angle you’d never seen before. He looked good from behind, with perfect posture, and an ass that looked great in his suit. He stopped, noticing you were no longer in front of him. you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see the confused expression that flitted across his perfect features. Sneaking up behind him, you waited until you were inches away from him before whispering into his ear. “I guess this time I’m the cat, and you’re the mouse.”

He swivelled around to meet you, his eyes blazing with an expression you couldn’t read. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Mr Grey Suit,” you smiled, watching his eyes widen as he took you in. No one had ever bested him before, but you’d managed to outsmart him today. “Clever girl,” he purred, “I enjoy our little game.” You’d left him speechless that day at the coffee house, and today was no exception. You were so much more than he ever could have dreamed of, so suited to his needs and desires that he wasn’t sure he could hold back much longer. He liked playing with your mind, but he longed to play with your body too. He wanted to feel you squirm against him, wanted to hear you moan for him as he figured out how far he could push you. “Will you be dining across the street tonight?” you asked, fiddling with the top button of your shirt. He shifted in his Prada loafers, a flash of hunger in his eyes. “Potentially,” he mused, “or perhaps I might find an alternative option to satisfy my tastes.” You both knew he was lying; he was far too hooked on you to get his kicks elsewhere. “Shame,” you pouted, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. “I was going to give you a little show. Maybe next time.” With that, you turned on your heel and left your grey-suited man standing dumbstruck in the street.

That night, he was in his usual spot outside the restaurant. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your grey suited stalker was becoming predictable now. But, you’d promised him a show, and a show he would get. You nudged the curtain open just a touch, enough that he could see you from where he was sitting.

He watched you from across the street, saw you move the curtain and give him full view of your figure. You were wearing nothing but a tiny silk robe, the dusty mauve colour the perfect contrast against your skin. You unbelted the robe achingly slowly, and he could feel his erection pushing against the fabric of his pants. The robe fell to the floor, and you stood in a matching lingerie set, your fingers running up and down your body. You were teasing him, toying with him. He’d never been teased before, and he aching cock responded to you in a way he’d never felt before. he shifted in his seat, desperate to quell the rising sensation of unbearable lust. He watched you slip your bra strap down, watched as you slowly lowered the cup just enough to show him the faintest outline of your breast. He audibly groaned, downing his glass of soju to quieten his desire. If he knocked on the door, would you let him in? He’d never been at the mercy of someone before, always being the one who played with people. But you seemed to enjoy torturing him. As if reading his mind, you shook your head, your finger delicately tracing your nipple. No, you wouldn’t let him in tonight. But he’d need you soon, otherwise he might go insane.

That night he pleasured himself to the image of you in your apartment, the delicate lingerie so perfectly contouring your curves. He’d have you soon, there was no doubt about that. You were a tease, but he hadn’t fully shown you what he was capable of yet.

[driverlando]

✧.* BABY PIASTRI

synopsis - in which everyone speculates whether you and Oscar have had your baby or not (Oscar Piastri x Wife/Model!reader)

before you continue: pls reblog and follow if you enjoyed! my requests are open, pop in anytime <3

—

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 113, 368 others

yourusername baby daddy 🤤

view all 1,598 comments

yourfan1 HAVE YOU HAD THE BABY???

↳ yourfan2 Right?!? We NEED Confirmation!!!

↳ oscarfan1 you don’t need anything. let them set their own pace

landonorris that smirk tho

↳ yourusername so hot right?

↳ landonorris the hottest

oscarfan2 the anticipation is killing me! is it a boy or a girl?

—

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 758,892 others

oscarpiastri baby mama 🥵

view all 2,456 comments

oscarfan3 she doesn’t look pregnant there 👀

↳ yourfan3 let’s not speculate on a woman’s body thanks

oscarfan4 what’s the baby’s name? 🥰

yourusername I love you!

↳ oscarpiastri I love you more 😘

↳ landonorris stop being so cute im going to throw up

yourfan5 name a prettier woman

↳ yourfan5 that’s right, you can’t

gigihadid pretty girl! 🫶

—

—

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, bellahadid and 924,668 others

oscarpiastri dad life 😎🐥

view all 3,456 comments

oscarfan5 babe wake up, we got confirmation on baby piastri!!

yourfan6 congratulations!! so happy for yall

charles_leclerc seems like a nice life

↳ oscarpiastri it’s the best, I recommend 😉

yourusername my sexy man 🤤

↳ yourfan7 y/ns ready for baby number 2 by the looks of it 😂

yourusername also THIS was your idea?

↳ oscarpiastri It did the job right? Everyone knows we’ve had the baby now 😃

↳ oscarfan7 I have a feeling y/n won’t be trusting Oscar with any future announcements anymore 😂

landonorris urm photo creds?

↳ yourusername I should’ve known you’d help him with his plan 😂

—

MODEL Y/N AND OSCAR PIASTRI ANNOUNCE BABY ARRIVAL IN HILARIOUS INSTAGRAM POST

The speculation is over! After weeks of swirling rumors and eager fan speculation, F1 sensation Oscar Piastri and supermodel Y/N have joyfully confirmed the arrival of their first child. The couple, known for their playful and private relationship, took to Instagram in true Oscar fashion with a post that left fans both laughing and overjoyed.

In a post that quickly went viral, Oscar Piastri shared a snapshot that epitomizes his unique sense of humor. The photo features Oscar reclining in an ice bath, looking every bit the doting father surrounded by a collection of bright yellow rubber ducks. The cheeky caption read, “Dad life 😎🐥”, a perfect blend of coolness and whimsy that fans have come to expect from the Australian racing star.

The image, posted late last night, immediately sparked a flurry of congratulatory messages from fans and fellow celebrities alike. Followers were quick to point out the cleverness of the reveal, with many applauding the couple’s decision to maintain their privacy while also sharing their joy in such a lighthearted manner.

Y/N, who has been relatively low-key on social media during the pregnancy, reposted the image on her own Instagram story, adding a heart emoji and the simple caption, “Our little duckling 🐥❤️”. The subtle, sweet addition was enough to melt hearts around the globe, cementing the couple’s place as one of the most adored pairs in the celebrity world.

The announcement comes after months of speculation, as eagle-eyed fans had been piecing together clues from Y/N’s and Oscar’s social media posts and public appearances. The couple, who are high school sweethearts and got married last year, have always been somewhat private about their personal lives, often dodging direct questions about their relationship in interviews. Their decision to keep the pregnancy under wraps until now has been met with a mix of curiosity and respect from the public.

The lighthearted and unconventional nature of their announcement has only endeared them further to their followers. “This is peak Oscar,” one fan commented. “Only he would announce becoming a dad with a bunch of rubber ducks. Love it!”

Fellow F1 drivers were also quick to react, with many taking to social media to congratulate their colleague. Lewis Hamilton posted a series of laughing emojis and the comment, “Mate, this is brilliant. Congrats!” Meanwhile, Sergio Pérez shared the post on his story, adding, “Welcome to the club, Oscar! So happy for you and Y/N.”

Y/N’s friends from the modeling world also chimed in with their well-wishes. Supermodel and close friend Gigi Hadid commented, “So happy for you both! Can’t wait to meet the little one 🐣❤️.” Other notable names like Kendall Jenner and Hailey Bieber also left congratulatory messages, highlighting the couple’s wide circle of supportive friends.

While details about the baby’s name and gender remain under wraps, sources close to the couple suggest that both mother and baby are healthy and doing well. It’s been reported that the couple is currently enjoying some much-needed family time away from the public eye, focusing on bonding with their new arrival.

Oscar Piastri’s journey to fatherhood marks another exciting chapter in his already impressive career. The 23-year-old has been making waves in the Formula 1 world, known for his fierce competitiveness and undeniable talent on the track. His personal life, however, has remained a refreshing blend of humor and humility, as evidenced by this recent announcement.

Y/N, who has graced the covers of countless fashion magazines and walked the runways for top designers, has also been balancing her career and personal life with grace and style. The couple’s shared values and mutual support have made them a power duo, both in their professional and personal lives.

As the news continues to spread, fans eagerly await more updates from the couple, hoping for a glimpse into their life as new parents. For now, the iconic ice bath photo with its playful rubber ducks will remain a delightful and heartwarming reminder of this special moment.

In a world often dominated by glitz and glamour, Oscar and Y/N’s announcement is a breath of fresh air, reminding everyone that sometimes, the simplest and silliest moments are the ones that matter the most.

Congratulations to the happy couple on their new adventure into parenthood!

—

[northboreas]

I cannot understate how clever and beautiful Penelope's response to wyfilwma is. In the original myth, Penelope literally isn't sure if the man before her is truly her husband, so she asks him to move a bed that is impossible to move. A fact about their relationship that only he could know. When he gets absolutely flabbergasted over this request, it's proof that it IS him.

In Epic there is only one change. Instead of Penelope being unsure, Odysseus is unsure of himself and feels like he would be unrecognizable to his wife. He keeps telling her over and over again, I am not the man you knew, and it's almost as though he's trying to convince himself, too. Like since he crossed every line he's killed all the gentleness in him, and he has to force himself to accept it. Penelope knows better, Penelope knows him. Instead of using their wedding bed as a way to prove it to herself, she proves it to him instead.

"See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over?

Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here"

Shes talking about their bed but she is also talking about their love, their history, everything that makes up their marriage. Its like shes asking him, if you truly are someone else- here's everything that we used to be, everything that we built together, throw it out. You're not the same, right? Then surely you can detach yourself from it all.

But he cant. he cant he cant he cant and she knows that. The shock and the outrage and the pain of being asked to do such a thing hits him with a full force and he talks of how he made the bed, what its meant to them, why he couldnt possibly move it away.

"Do you realize what you have asked me?

The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots"

To cut it from the roots would be to sever their love entirely, it cant exist without what came before and what came before was the two of them. He fears thats what she wants, a completely uproot of their life together. But the fact that he fears it, truly deeply cares like a sentimental bastard, the fact that he could never not be the man who loves her is what she's been trying to show him all along.

"Only my husband knew that

So I guess that makes him you"

like my GOD. THIS LINE. He cannot be anything but her love because he is the only man who knows what they are to each other. She says it and that is final. Moving it is impossible because seperating the man he used to be from the man he is is impossible too. They are one in the same.

"I will fall in love with you over and over again

I don't care how, where, or when

No matter how long it's been, you're mine

Don't tell me you're not the same person

You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting"

She is not loving him by ignoring the trail of bodies in his wake and her love does not change the carnage-- in fact she is the reason for it, she knows this and she doesnt care. This is her husband now and always. And as long as bloodied hands will still hold her weaving ones he is the same exact man she's been waiting for.

It is such a beautiful message to leave your audience with. It is so perfect for Penelope as a character and the emotional weight this song has elevated my understanding of the odyssey and their relationship. Twenty years is so long, everything has changed, we have done unforgivable things to get home to each other-- because our home is each other. You are sharp and cruel and I am cunning and so so angry and we are both so tired but guess fucking what, I love you. No matter how long its been, youre mine.