#seriously I’ll defend her with my life

[cetoddle]

some people are truly just miserable like. it snowed last night so everyone has been tracking in i would guess 5,000 pounds of sand and rocks with them when they enter the building maybe more and it’s just been so exhausting to deal with all night especially considering management refuses to hire an actual floor tech and my vacuum doesn’t work 75% of the time (which they also refuse to do anything about <3). anyways i finally got the back entrance vacuumed and was mopping up all the mud and dried dust on the tile when this absolute cunt of a woman comes in and, while smiling and maintaining eye contact with me, stomps as hard as she can all over my nice clean floor and walks away

[bluebellhairpin]

Sanji Vinsmoke X Fem!Reader

Summary: Sanji takes his job as cook on the Going Merry very seriously, and seeing as he has yet to discover what you enjoy eating, he makes finding out his top priority. Lucky for Sanji, Luffy lends a hand. (a.k.a, reader has a complicated relationship with food, and Sanji finds a way to help fix it.) (wc. 2.8K)

Warnings: Food, food, more food (possibly a ED warning needed). They make out in the end :) Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied +tragic backstory.

Listening to: 'clementine' by Halsey - "Left my shoes in the street, so you'd carry me, through a breakdown. Through a breakdown or a blackout, would you make out with me on the floor of the mezzanine?"

Masterlist || AO3 link

To Sanji Vinsmoke you were an enigma, and it was driving him half mad trying to figure you out. Sanji had figured out everyone else in Luffy’s crew fairly quickly. In regards to food that is.

Luffy loves meat, Nami has her tangerines, etcetera and so forth. But you? He barely saw you finish a single plate of food, let alone go back for more - or forbid look like you were enjoying eating at all. Sanji’s whole life revolved around food, and he wasn’t going to have someone he decided to care for so deeply dislike it so much.

His stare pinned you to your seat at the kitchen table, fingers tapping the wood as he ran through the list in his head to find something new to try your tastes at.

“You’re really sure you don’t like tangerines? They’re in season at the moment.” Sanji watched your face form into a grimace, teeth bearing as you sucked air into your mouth.

“Not really. Sorry.” He waved his hand, shooing away your worry like swatting a fly. His thoughts wandered again before speaking after a few long moments of silence.

“Your not liking seafood feels like a crime.” he mumbled. As he looked at you he saw your eyes flicker to the side.

“I’ll eat it, I just can’t say it’s my favourite.” you said.

“You’re just saying that.” he smiled, “I saw your face screw up the first time Zoro had a poor attempt at making sashimi.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” You sat up, ready to defend yourself from Sanji’s interrogation. “I’m just not used to eating raw fish!”

“He can’t make it like I do.” he said softly. You looked into his eyes and he had to hold himself back from sighing dreamily.

Sanji, besides believing food shouldn’t be wasted, loved seeing people who needed to eat happy with what they ate. You worried him, since it had been weeks and yet you’d never expressed such approval. You never even went back for seconds - which obviously was on his mind more than he’d ever admit. He tried so hard to find something you’d like, and hadn’t yet. He wondered how happy you’d look when he finally found out what you liked. How your pretty eyes might light up, or how you might finally bless him with a real toothy grin instead of a shy smile.

He almost sighed again at the thought of how beautiful it would be.

“You care a lot about food, don’t you?” your voice was quiet, but it cut through Sanji’s thoughts like a knife. He watched your face soften. “You don’t have to answer. I can tell.”

He watched you, the way you took a deep breath and how it shifted your shoulders. Then you stood, and came around the table. You hand rested inches from his, and he knew he shouldn’t want to hold your hand as badly as he did. He wondered if your fingers were soft or calloused, felt hot or cold. He wanted to hold your hand so badly, but he didn’t.

“You don’t have to care so much about me, Sanji. I’ll eat whatever’s put in front of me, whether I like it or not.”

Your words made him frown, and he watched you turn and leave. Something about your words left him feeling an immeasurable amount of sadness. He once said women were mysteries to be unravelled slowly, you were the slowest he’d come across. You sounded so sad when you spoke, as if resolved to a fate you never wanted.

It made him scared to uncover what possibly happened to you to resign like that, and sad to think about how different you might be now if you hadn’t gone through it. Clearly, you had gone through something, or someone, to make you so uncaring for something many people found joy in.

He decided then that he would help fix it. Sanji would bring joy back into your life through food.

Calm, quiet nights on the Going Merry were a favourite of yours. The sea was still, the salt sat lightly in the air, and the sky was so clear you could see stars no matter which direction you looked. It was peaceful. Carefree. On nights like these you could clear your head, spread out your thoughts like photos on the floor and organise them one by one.

You kept nights like these a secret because you knew if someone found you and got you talking that you’d keep no more secrets. With your vulnerability laid bare before you it was also laid bare to anyone who came by. Doing this small ritual late at night meant no one ever had seen it. Tonight changed that.

A hand reached at the railing inches from your face, and a wide grin soon followed. Someone had found you.

“You trying to scare me into a heart attack Luffy?” His grin softened at your nonchalant reply.

“I don’t believe I really scared you with how you’re reacting.”

“My heart’s beating right out of my chest, really it is captain. You should feel it.” You said, watching him climb over the railing and sit down beside you. His quietness while doing so was unusual. “You don’t usually come up here.”

“I wanted to ask you something -”

‘Here we go,’ you thought, rolling your eyes.

“- You gave your dinner to Ussop tonight. Distracted him by getting him to tell a story then put your plate in front of him so he wouldn’t notice. But I did.” he said. Luffy looked across at you, his hat rested around his neck by its drawstring. Without the hat he looked more serious - that paired with the genuine concern in his eyes and your own aforementioned vulnerability was dangerous.

“Why did you do that?” You looked at him, and he looked back at you. You sighed.

“Before dinner he said he was starving.” you said, “After he finished eating I gave him mine so he didn’t have to get up.”

“You need to eat too. He says that all the time, it’s just a joke.”

You sighed. Your arms rested across the banister of the crows rest, and your chin now nestled on top of them. When you spoke again your voice was soft, and you didn’t look back at Luffy.

“It’s not a joke to me.” From the corner of your eye you saw his position mirror yours, and his legs slowly started swinging from where they dangled over the edge.

“Why?” he asked. It was such a small unassuming word. Normally it wouldn’t bother you, but tonight it was the one thing you were most worried about. It could open a floodgate you’d been dying to keep closed since you joined the Straw Hats - and now it had opened.

“My family.” you said. “My island was good. We weren’t well-off but we never went without the things we needed. Then pirates came, and the marines came. Then if we had something and it wasn’t stolen by pirates, it was allocated to the marines. We started starving.”

Finally, you looked across to Luffy. He stared at you with a frown, the kind he’d get when he was focusing and trying to understand. You’d seen him direct it to others but had never been on the receiving end yourself - it felt strange. With that look, however strange it was, he made you feel like you needed to keep talking just so he understood. So you kept talking.

“With the lack of what we needed, my mother died, then my father. I had to look after my sister on my own, so I worked. I skipped eating so she got breakfast and dinner, I only ate the food I got from work. I did my best to go hungry so she didn’t have to and she died anyway.”

The weight of your words sat heavy in the night air. Your words were gentle, resigned - you’d gotten used to the thought long ago that losing your family was an act you were helpless to stop no matter how hard you tried. You’d spent the rest of your life until now trying even harder to see if that would have made a difference.

For a long time all you heard was the lapping of seawater on the ship’s hull.

“I don’t want to see the people I care about go hungry again. I want them to be happy. I want you all to be happy.” You turned your cheek to rest on your arm, suddenly feeling tired as you looked back at Luffy. “So I give up my food, I don’t eat more than my share.”

Luffy, again, mirrored your action. His cheek squished against his forearm as he looked at you. He lacked the frown now, and his eyes held understanding. You could tell your story made him sad, but he also looked grateful. Eventually his face broke out in a new, wide grin.

“If you could eat anything without a care in the world, what would it be?”

At the look on Luffy’s face, you let out a quiet noise that almost could’ve been a soft laugh. His eyes were expectant, so you looked back to the ocean and thought.

“I know it’s a drink, but I loved tea.” You sighed dreamily. “French earl grey was my favourite.”

Sanji knew you liked your quiet time, so he never went up to the crows nest with you. He stayed on deck, out of sight and smoking, until you climbed down and went to bed. He liked to think he was making sure you didn’t fall, but really he treated it like your own secret.

You up there, him down here, and that's the special time you get to spend together, a moment where it was just the two of you - even if you didn’t know about it. When Luffy started climbing the rigging, Sanji was prepared to get really pissed off for ruining your peace. He was glad he didn’t though.

Still night’s means sound travels well and fast. He heard everything you and Luffy talked about.

Thanks to your Captain, he’d figured you out - and he wasn’t going to bed tonight. He stomped out his cigarette and turned around back into the kitchen.

The plan for today was to dock the Going Merry and spend most of the day ashore, either gathering supplies or, in Luffy’s case, finding some local trouble to get in the middle of. Sanji’s original plan was to do that too, but after last night he had new plans.

The fact everyone else would be gone was fantastic - and your own plan to stay close to the ship to spend time around the hull scraping off barnacles was even more perfect.

Sanji was even more grateful to Luffy’s talk with you last night, since your whole mood seemed lighter today. Convincing out to climb back aboard was almost too easy - and the lack of trouble it took to get you to entertain his shenanigans was almost just as easy.

“Sanji I don’t know why you have to cover my eyes, I can keep my eyes closed just fine.”

“I don’t want you peeking.”

“If you’re going to show me some food sculpture again,” you trailed off. Sanji controlled the fluttering in his chest at the feeling of your cheeks moving under his palms - movements that meant you were smiling.

“If I was, you’d be very impressed.” He guided you to a stop, making sure to position you just right. He suddenly felt very nervous. This felt worse than when he made his very first meal. What if you didn’t like it? What if this was a big mistake? What if-

“Sanji?” you whispered. He didn’t even realize his hands were resting on your shoulders until your fingers came up and grazed his own. “Are you okay?”

He smiled. Of course you’d ask that - it made sense now, now that he knew you were the most selfless person he’d met.

“I’m perfect.” he said, hands squeezing your shoulders, “Are you ready to see your surprise?” You nodded. He let out a soft ‘okay’ and reluctantly pulled away to stand next to the kitchen table.

Sanji watched as you took it in, but your face gave nothing away. He nervously looked toward the table again - maybe something was out of place? - then back to you.

“What is this?” you asked. Your voice was so soft that if he wasn’t on a knife's edge he wouldn’t have heard it.

“Earl grey and chocolate cheesecake, and a lemon and earl grey chiffon cake.” He noticed your eyes lingering on a porcelain set just behind the cake. “And tea ready to brew.”

“Sanji, you didn’t have to do -”

“No!” His objection was abrupt, and it made your eyes snap from the spread to him. “I’m sorry, but no. I won’t hear you say it. Just eat it. Please.” Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, too scared to even blink.

You could tell Sanji felt just as tense as you did. No one had ever gone through so much just for you - hell you didn’t even know there was French earl grey tea anywhere on the Merry, and here Sanji was with a whole morning tea that was themed after your favourite flavour. You didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll get on my knees and beg if you want.” he offered with a small and unsteady grin. Your head shook, declining, and his eyes glanced down at where your fingers nervously fiddled with themselves. You stilled them, instead gripping the coarse fabric of your skirt.

“What I want?” you said softly, almost to yourself. You looked at the food, so carefully prepared and baked, then back at him. “Could you join me? I don’t want to eat alone.”

Instantly, his nerves seemed to visibly melt away - and you in turn felt like you could relax too. He was by your side again, guiding you with a phantom hand at your waist into a seat, and then took the one beside you.

“You’ll have tea, obviously.” Sanji offered, reaching for the teapot, “You’re sweet as you are, but do you need some sugar today?”

Your hand faltered for where it reached for a piece of the chiffon cake. He turned his head to face you, to see you frozen again. This time the look on your face was different. Like a cheeky child had been caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

“Do you think I need some sugar today?” you asked, snickering.

“I’d give you some any day you want.” Then you started giggling - a sound he’d never heard from you before. He looked over and there it was - the smile he’d been longing for a chance to see.

“I think I need some sugar today,” you said with a smile. Your giggling had stopped, but you looked up at him with a soft smile. He couldn’t have been dreaming, but he might’ve since he swore you lent closer.

Sanji decided to be brave. His arm came up to rest on the back of his seat, and his fingers brushed your jaw. His heart skipped a beat when you let him do it.

“How much sugar?” he asked, feeling like he’d been lulled into a daydream at the sight of your happiness.

“A little bit,” you replied, shyly smiling over at him.

“Like this?” he said softly. Ever so carefully he lent forward. His fingers held your chin gently, and when he was close enough to count your eyelashes, your eyes fluttered closed. Gently, he pressed a kiss to the edge of your mouth. It was a short kiss, but he could die happily now - he knew he’d remember the feel of you on his lips even from beyond the grave.

“No,” you whispered, and your fingers ghosted across his jaw to guide his head closer still, “Like this.” you said. Then you kissed him. Your kiss was just as soft, just as gentle, but it was longer, and less afraid. When you pulled away your eyes finally opened.

Before, Sanji could tell you weren’t the kind of person to have done that. To have taken a kiss for yourself, no matter how willing the recipient was. To think all that it took to break that spell was a morning tea.

“Thank you Sanji, for doing all this for me.” You said. Your smile was content - it wasn’t the full toothy grin Sanji had hoped for, but it was genuine, and it made him feel fuller than any meal ever could.

“No, thank you,” he replied, “Thank you for letting me know you.”

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter three. boobs and beers

pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 4.7k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, mention of a panic attack, boobies lol, uhmmmmm shopping as a fat girl, Scarlett should be her own warning, daddy issues, mentions of alcoholism.

authors note ⇢ heyyyyy….. im sick and i am soooo fatigued but i wanted to release this, i’ve been spoiling the kildare nights readers and i needed to give fearless some attention. sorry for any mistakes queens, love you guys! gimme ur thoughts!!

“Why are we here?” You ask as he plops down onto the seat across from you at the mall food court. He slides over a cup of fro-yo at you. A frown falls to your lip when you take a peek in it. “You get plain fro-yo?”

His eyebrows furrow, shrugging. “Yeah?”

You scoff in pure disbelief as you glance into his own cup. Plain chocolate. “That’s… like… a crime.”

Getting up off your cold metal seat, you pick his cup as well and walk back into the frozen yogurt shop. The cute worker behind the register has a bored expression on her face until she spots you. A bright smile falls onto your face, as does hers, as you meet each other. “Heather.”

“Gorgeous!” She squeals happily as you walk over to the register with the tall guy trailing after you, watching the two of you curiously.

“My friend here, he doesn’t know the art of fro-yo. Is there any way we can add some toppings? Promise I’ll pay for every cent.” You ask her sweetly. The red head nods happily, ushering you to go on in.

You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you walk over to the toppings station. A wave of embarrassment flushes through you as you realize something. This makes you look fat. You are. You are a big girl but you try and hide it. With big sweaters, baggy jeans, eating small portions when out— not showing others that you come to the fro-yo place so often that the cashier knows you by name.

“My dad and I come here all the time.” You don’t mean for your words to sound so defensive but it’s what you’ve had to do most of your life. Defend yourself. “It’s the one thing he can afford.”

His eyebrows furrow, head tilting gently. You realize he’s not one for many words but his looks say a lot. He’s curious about you. And confused. “Isn’t your dad rich?”

You take a quick peek at him and feel a weight lift off your shoulders when you see his eyes have moved to scour the toppings. “Anthony isn’t my dad.”

He nods, ahh-ing. “Right, he’s your step-dad. What about your real father?”

You shrug lamely, not really wanting to talk about him. “Nothing. We just like fro-yo. Are you seriously putting Graham crackers in your fro-yo?” You ask, eyes wide and with a glint of disgust at his choice.

His eyes squint with annoyance as he looks up at you. “What’s wrong with Graham crackers?”

“Everything.” You reach over the toppings and scoop up a spoonful of gummy bears. “Graham crackers are like… green peppers on your pizza.”

This gets a reaction out of him. “You don’t like green peppers on your pizza?”

You scoff out a laugh, “I don’t know how we’re gonna get along with all these differences between us.” Your tone is playful as you speak this. You reach over and grab a few maraschino cherries and plop them on your fro-yo.

“Now that, I can get behind.” He scoops up the cherries and loads them into his cup. He’s scooping up Oreo crumbles beside you as you take him in. There’s a slight stubble growing on his jaw, a green baseball cap on top of his head. He's a lot more laidback than you’ve ever seen. He's usually in khakis and polo shirts. Today, he’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie, with thick sneakers that you’re sure cost a fortune.

“You know,” you speak up after a moment, his eyes turning to you. You can’t make eye contact, eyes looking everywhere but his eyes. “We’re twins.”

“What?”

You point to his clothing and yours. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie. “We’re dressed alike.” The two of you are done and back at the register, weighing your cups for the price. Heather begins ringing you two up and you’re about to swipe your credit card when he beats you to it. “I had that.”

But he ignores you as the payment goes through and Heather wishes you two a good day. “First things first,” you’re walking down the mall side by side, eating your fro-yo. “You need to stop dressing like me.”

“Hey, this is comfortable.” You defend yourself.

“Comfortable won’t get you anywhere. You have to show some cleavage every now and then.”

This offends you, a scoff leaving your mouth. You’re glaring up at him but he doesn’t seem to care, eyes moving to and fro, checking the mall out. “Why do I need to do that?”

“Real talk?” He asks you, eyeing you as if trying to see if you’ll get offended or not.

You take a deep breath in and nod. “You look like a little boy.”

You should be offended. But you can’t. Instead, a laugh bubbles out of you and you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “N-no, no I don’t.” But you don’t believe your own words. You sigh, eating another spoonful of fro-yo. “Okay thine.” If your mother were here you’d be getting a scold for talking with your mouth full.

Rafe simply rolls his eyes at the sight and hands you a napkin which you happily take. You chew on your cold gummy bears for a moment before speaking again. “Fine. I’m guessing that’s why we’re here?” You look around the mall with a soft and annoyed huff. “Where to first, sensei?”

You can see he’s visibly holding back a smile when he says— “Victoria Secret.”

The store is unbelievably pink. But your eyes flicker about the store and the mannequins with a sparkle to your eyes. You’d never stepped foot in this place unless Scarlett was at your side. Nothing about you ever felt sexy and she came here to feel sexy. So you never found your footing in the store. And now, with Rafe at your side, you feel even worse. Surface level, you only see undergarments for skinny people. Smaller people. And the idea of not finding anything and Rafe watching you get shut down makes you dread the rest of your day.

“Never seen someone look at mannequin boobs and frown.” You’re brought out of your painstakingly insecure thoughts at the sound of Rafe’s voice. You peek up at him and are surprised to see a softer look to him. Well, as soft as Rafe Cameron can get. “Seriously, it’s just bra shopping. And pantie shopping. I thought girls went crazy for this shit.”

“Okay, misogyny.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. To anyone else, it would look like a natural pose but you’re hiding your chest, as if that would stop this from happening. “I’m just… shouldn’t I do something else before shopping?” You hope he understands what you mean.

But he doesn’t. He shakes his head, “nah.” His nonchalant response sends a twinge of annoyance through you, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He starts making his way into the store, too much interest in his face when you call out to him.

“Seriously, Rafe, I’m too big for this.” This stops him in his steps turning to you with a look on his face that you can’t decipher. Not that you ever can, Rafe Cameron is an incredibly hard person to read.

“There’s a plus-size section.” Are his words and you feel a wave of heat come over you. Your mouth twitches as you try to hide the shame you’re feeling. But it seems you and Rafe don’t have that in common— you wear your feelings on your face.

“Look before we… I should probably, I don’t know… lose some weight.” Is your response to him, eyes refusing to meet him at all.

He sighs loudly, and you sneak a glance at him to see him rubbing the inner corner of his eyes with what you think is annoyance. And this only worsens your intense feelings of insecurity. And he speaks, “you don’t need to lose weight to be hot, ___. You’ve got a stunning body, you just have to know how to work it.”

Your eyes widen as they meet him for the first time in a while. And oddly enough, you can see he’s telling the truth. You wanted to see a lie on his face. You wanted to be proved right and know that he’s just as disgusted by you as all the boys in your school. But you can’t find it. “Now, are you gonna keep fishing for compliments or are we gonna find a bra that makes your boobs pop?”

You bust out laughing at this, covering your face with your hands in a shy manner. “Fine, but you have to promise to never repeat the word Boobs to me. Like, ever again.”

“How about breasts?”

“Gross.”

—

One of the kind ladies in the shop finds a few pieces for you that fit well. Surprisingly, you have a good time. The lady is unbelievably kind and finds you matching sets. And you come to realize you’ve never had a positive female shopping experience.

Most of your shopping was done with Scarlett and your mother at your side. And they seemed to be the unstoppable duo that knew just how to put you down. Your mother would grab at your stomach when you tried on a shirt that didn’t fit quite right. “This is where you need to focus,” she’d point at the spots that she felt needed to be fixed. “Next time you’re at the gym, focus on this. Talk to my personal trainer, he’s there all the time.” You went to the gym the next day. Apparently, she had spoken to her trainer and he grabbed you in the same way your mother did. You never went back again.

Scarlett. She’d make it a competition. If you found a top that made your eyes crinkle with the thought of wearing it proudly, she’d find the smallest size there was and try it on. Once you’d see her walk out with a top you were carrying on your arm, you’d set it down. She puts you to shame every single time.

So, now that you’re in a new shop, wearing a new push-up bra that fits like a perfect corset for your chest, you feel anxious. Beyond anxious. There are people everywhere. Chats coming from every single direction. But the last thing you need is to have a panic attack in front of Rafe. You barely know the guy.

“Okay… so what now?” You ask, clearing your throat to push away the bad memories of the store.

“Now, we shop.”

It takes an hour. A long hour to walk throughout the store and have him pick out outfits for you. Having him know your size was absolutely terrifying. But he didn’t bat an eye as you told him and he jumped right into it. Every now and then, he’d find an ugly shirt and hold it up to you and he’d mutter a joke. Jonah would love this one, is his go to. And before you know it, you’re no longer on the verge of a breakdown.

You’re in the dressing room and for the first time in your life, you don’t worry about how you look. Or how the jeans fit you a little too snug around your hips. You don’t feel panic at the thought of trying clothes on in the stuffy dressing room.

You come out in the first outfit and Rafe immediately busts out laughing. The green jeans are ridiculously long and the top is a corset top with blue hand-drawn flowers on them and ridiculously large bows at the shoulder straps. You knew it was a joke outfit but it was nice to mess around.

You jokingly strut, pretending the room is a runway. “Keep it in your pants.” You laugh as you give him a spin and this only makes him laugh some more. You feel a sense of pride for making Rafe Cameron laugh. Sarah’s text flashes through your mind. A man who hasn’t smiled in years. And yet, he’s holding onto his side as you strike another odd pose.

“Alright, alright,” his smile is pretty, you notice. And contagious, unable to hide your own as you listen to him. “We need to get serious.” But he’s still chuckling. “Try on a real outfit this time.” So you do. He likes them all. A few shirts ride up over your belly a bit too much and some jeans don’t fit over your thighs but you leave the store with eight new outfits.

Usually, you leave with hurt feelings and nothing but.

You two are on the ferry back home when your day together is over. It’s a forty minute wade back but neither of you seem to care. He’s sipping his Big Gulp drink and watching as you try and balance the water bottle lid on your nose.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.” There’s a tinge of amusement to his tone.

Your head is thrown slightly back as you keep trying but it’s to no avail, it keeps toppling over. With a huff, you pick the cap up and shove it into your pocket. “It’s a trick my dad usually pulls. It’s better with a quarter though.”

Avoiding the topic of your father is a skill you take pride in. Your mother always turns into a sobbing mess when you bring him up. Your step-dad isn’t ever really home and when he is, it’s awkward. The only person you could share him with was Scarlett. That was the one topic she never snarked at you over. Not to your face, at least.

“Can I ask?” You turn to him, criss cross on the bench that you two are sitting on, wind blowing your hair. You tuck a strand, nodding. “Where is your dad?”

“The cut.” You answer honestly. Your mother hides him from her new rich friends. She hides her past from all of her new rich friends. Her story isn’t as compelling as Ward Cameron’s. He built his way up. Your mother caught the attention of an older man and married him. She’s ashamed about it.

This seems to shock him but he’s not Rafe Cameron if he doesn’t try and hide it. “And you’re close?”

You shrug, turning to the cloudy sky. It’s easier to talk about hard things when you don’t have to look at anyone, you find. “We’re… we definitely have a relationship. But… it’s hard to build on it when my mother doesn’t know I’m talking to him.”

You can feel his eyes on you, mouth slightly parted as he takes your words in but you can’t turn to him. “She forbids you from seeing him?”

You hum a small ‘mhm’. “He’s a stain in her perfect life.”

“Not in yours?”

“He’s a…” you pause, searching for the proper words. “An escape. Like… in Coraline. The door. He’s my door to a… less suffocating world. Without the buttons, of course. And alcoholism.” You try to joke. He doesn’t find it funny, the look on his features softened and taking you and your words in. Letting them settle. “He’s not perfect. I get why my mom left him. Why she wanted better. He’s a drunk who can’t keep a steady job. When we go out, I buy us dinner. He couldn’t take care of my mom or me so…”

“So she found the next best thing.” He finishes off for you. You turn to him at this, nodding as your hair keeps blowing in the wind. You don’t feel exposed in the way you do when speaking of your father to anyone. Rafe’s not judging you or figuring out how to use it against you. His eyes are sincere. Face stoic, but his eyes are sincere. You hate eye contact but if it means getting a better grasp of Rafe, you’d never look away. And you don’t.

“What about you?” You ask with sincerity. “I heard the rumors. The Cameron men butting heads.” You admit sheepishly.

He sighs, turning away. It’s his turn to look away while speaking of the hard stuff in his life. He lays back on the bench seat, long legs stretched out and kicked back up on the rail. “Well… you know… fathers…” it doesn’t take much to see he doesn’t want to speak of it.

Instead, you nod, a small and sad laugh leaving you. “Yeah… fathers.”

The ferry stops at the port a while later after thirty minutes of talking about your classes to him. He’s dropping you off at home, bags of clothes at hand. “By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.” And he drives off, leaving you stumped.

—

—

Debut one of your new outfits. What the fuck does that mean? You can’t picture yourself going to a party in clothes that aren’t your comfortable ones. Your comfort hoodie and sweats are what you spend most of your time in when out of school.

Getting ready without a friend is depressing. Usually, you’d have Scarlett at your side fluffing up your hair and helping with your makeup. Not that you wore it often but on the rare occasions that you needed to go to an event with your family, she was by your side. And it was during those moments that her honest side shined the brightest. She was careful with you. Honest but not brutal.

You shake your head to get yourself to stop thinking about her. You don’t want to be affected. You don’t want her to have this much of a hold over you. You need to stop loving her.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Anthony’s voice is heard as you make your way to the door. You freeze in your step, not wanting to see him. Your mother had gone on a so-called spiritual retreat in Puerto Rico without telling you so now, you were under Anthony’s care. But he didn’t have kids of his own and you came to him when you were twelve years old, he never had to take care of you.

You turn in your spot, a stiff smile on your face. “Uhm… nothing. Just… going out… to watch a movie…”

He gives you a bore expression, hand in a bag of chips. “You don’t put on a mini-skirt to watch a movie. You’re going to a party, aren’t you? God, you’re a baby, you shouldn’t be wearing that.”

You scoff, “bye, Anthony.” You open up the door and slam it as he’s telling you to be careful.

Rafe’s truck is in your driveway and he’s standing out of it, leaning up against the hood. His eyes are closed and he’s bopping his head gently, singing a quiet song. The sound of your shoes hitting the gravel of the driveway catches his attention, eyes immediately opening and on you.

Your smile is shy as you hold your arms out, showcasing your outfit. It’s a black mini skirt matched with a simple black and low cut top, a leather jacket over it. Simple. But extravagant for you. “So… how do I look?” You really, really want to know.

His eyes are taking you in. Starting from the shoes you picked out, to your thick thighs, your hips, your waist, your chest (which you’re proudly wearing your push-up he bought you), your neck. And he settles on your face. Done up in makeup, hair let loose in its natural form. He gets up off the hood of his car and walks up to you. “You look…” he pauses, eyes flickering across your face again. He's lost in thought, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue lightly ghosting his dry lips. You nervously put your weight on your other foot, and this awakens him. “Fine. You look fine.”

“Oh.” You didn’t expect much. But you also didn’t expect very little. “I mean… like, if Jonah were to see me do you think he’d be… starstruck and completely in love.”

This gets something out of him, a small snort of a laugh. “Give a girl a push up bra and she thinks she’s a goddess.”

“Hey!” You laugh with disbelief as you walk after him, the two of you making your way to his truck. “You told me I need to be more confident!” He opens the passenger door with no qualms and helps you in. He closes your side of the door and hops into the driver's seat. “Okay, so what’s the game plan?” You ask as he starts driving out of your driveway, hand stretched behind your seat and looking back for any other cars.

“The game plan is,” he turns the wheel, the veins in his arms popping slightly but you have to force yourself to look away and straight at the road as he starts driving off. “Act nonchalant. People are going to notice the style change but you’re going to ignore it. If they ask, you simply wanted to try something new. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“So… if they compliment me, I… ignore it?”

“You’re hopeless. No, I mean, accept the compliments but brush off other comments.”

“Okay, I’m confused.”

He huffs and before you know it, the two of you are bickering. Back and forth. What he means. What you mean. It’s almost hard to remember that just last week you two weren’t even in the same world. Now, you’re in his truck, wearing the new clothes he bought you and bickering.

The walk into the party is nerve-wracking and all you can think of is how your thick thighs are in the wind. Which means you’re much colder than usual you’re not used to being cold outside, always so wrapped up in your warm clothes. You stop at the patio of the raging house, looking up at Rafe. “So… this is where we part ways?”

This visibly confuses him. “What? Why would we part ways?”

You shrug, “I don’t know… I didn’t come to parties often but the few events I went with Heather… we would part ways.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid. I’m here with you.”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“I’m not being a dick.”

“That’s you being a dick. I’m not stupid for—“

“I’m not calling you stupid, god.”

“You’re here!” A loud squeal pulls you out of your mini argument with Rafe. Your eyes meet a pair of familiar brown ones. Sarah rushes to you immediately and practically jumps into your arms. You laugh happily as you hug her right back.

“I’m here!”

She pulls away from you with a small pour. She’s drunk. Kiara comes out from behind her, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Guess who else is here?” Sarah’s voice is loud as the four of you walk into the home which is blasting with music.

“Who?”

“Scarlett.” This makes your blood run cold. That little piece of confidence that you carried vanished. You weren’t feeling yourself anymore. She’d see you in your new outfit and would make fun of you.

“We’ve got your back.” Kiara’s arm wraps around your shoulders as you walk side by side. “You won’t have to deal with her alone.”

“By the way, you look so damn good!” Sarah squeals as you all make your way into the kitchen where Kie grabs a few beers and tosses one each to the group. Rafe catches his beer easily and when he notices the slight panic in your face, he catches yours next, opening it quickly for you. You take the beer mindlessly, listening to Sarah drunkenly babble. Kiara’s entertaining her, laughing when she says something she shouldn’t say far too loudly. And you find yourself enjoying it.

You always dreaded parties. When a kid went around inviting everyone, they’d stop with you and Scarlett but only invite her. They would barely spare a glance at you. And at the time, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You’d rather be at home and cuddled up in bed with your cat, binge watching a show. But this… you like this. You like that Kiara and Sarah are bringing you into the conversation even when you’ve been quiet for minutes. You like that Rafe’s by your side like a scary guard dog. Well, you don’t really like that part so much. People are staring. They aren’t used to the Rafe Cameron not having a baddie on his arm.

Kiara and Sarah are in the middle of dancing a silly dance in the kitchen when you turn to Rafe. “No ones even noticing me.”

He snorts out a scoff of a laugh. “I’ve caught like eight guys since we came in, looking at your boobs.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not anyone noticing me. That’s them noticing my girls. And second, I told you not to say boobs to me.”

“Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs.”

“God, shut up. You’re gross. There’s no need to— stop!” Back to your bickering, a laugh leaving you when he just won’t quit it.

You’re both in a comfortable space when a shrill of a voice cuts you two off.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Time stands still for a second at the sound of Scarlett’s voice. You and your new friends immediately turn to look at her. And your eyes widen. You’re wearing the same skirt. A laugh bubbles out of Sarah and Rafe’s big hand covers her mouth to shut her up

“You know what I’m wearing.” You retort with a roll of your eyes. Heather angrily puts her red solo cup down, stomping closer to you.

“Do you know how embarrassing this is? You need to change!”

Kiara laughs at this. “Girl, get over yourself. It’s a skirt.”

Scarlett is very clearly exasperated. And upset. It’s weird seeing her so put off. Your eyes don’t leave her as she keeps throwing her tantrum. “It doesn’t even look good on you! You’re… you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Rafe is watching with an amused look to his face. He hadn’t seen the fight, only a few clips that were taken last minute. But he’d never seen them go head to head. And you know he’s been dying to. Rafe is many things but dramatically inclined was not one you had added to your list until recently.

You're about to answer. You’re about to fight back. You wouldn’t let her embarrass you in front of your new friends. Loud gasps and yells erupt when a drunk splashes onto Heather. “Dumb bitch!” It’s Sarah. She threw beer right at Heather’s face which is now dripping down to her clothes.

Scarlett, quick on her feet, grabs her own cup and tosses it. On you. You gasp for air as it falls in your nose. “What the fuck, Scar?! I didn’t do shit?!”

“For not fighting your own fucking battles!” She yells, so angry that her face is red. Which you’re sure is from embarrassment as well. “You’re weak! Always have been and always will be!”

Kiara gets in between the two of you, “back the fuck up.” She hisses. “She’s with us now.”

Scarlett laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She looks behind Kiara and glares harshly at you. “Hanging with the pogues? Seriously? This is a new level of trashy. Even for you.”

“Alright, alright,” it’s rafe now that grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “You guys are very dramatic.” He tells you as he takes to the other side of the house in the living room.

But you’re frowning. It’s hard not to be upset. And you’re dripping with beer. “My outfit…” you pull your arm from his, stopping. In turn, this stops him and he turns to look down at your sad figure. “It’s ruined…”

He’s quiet. And you’re about to tell him it’s time to call it a night. His hand grabs your chin, making you look up at him. There’s a look of determination on his face, which shocks you greatly. “You’re not giving up. I’m gonna make sure Jonah sees you for the hot piece of ass you are, alright?”

His words send a hot flush through your body. You hate how shy you get when he’s nice. Or when he’s trying to be nice. Even during his kind moments, he’s abrasive. But you’re learning to take him as he is.

“Now, push those boobs up and be confident.”

“Stop saying boobs!”

—

taglist. @pinkyqily @chalahyung01 @lunalvrsblog @teenwolfbitches28 @jayjsbaby @yawnzshit @mytimeiswaiting @tsshifting @always-reading @chimchimjiminie16 @ayy1234567 @acidfeens @congratsloserr @murdockcastleslut @cl4uus @clairesblouse @ange111 @daddydraco0

[disneyprincemuke]

best dress * fem!driver

when pictures circulate on instagram of her on a night out in her best dress, the guys start to get curious who she’s out and about with on a saturday night

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver

warnings: none

notes: i may have gotten carried away with this one… and this might have played out a LOT funnier in my head than it does written down

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> the aftermath

she pushes the door open and steps out of her racing home. she looks left and right cautiously, careful not to catch her colleagues’ attentions. there’s many nights she’d appreciate their companionship but tonight is not that night.

she can only step one down before her worst nightmare comes to life.

“hey, where are you going?” she turns her head, mouth agape as she meets lando’s curious eyes. his eyes scan her body and his head tilts. “and why are you all dressed up?”

she straightens her body and pats her dress down. she flicks her hair behind her shoulder, trying to ignore the awkward tension in the air.

“um,” she trails off, glancing at the group of engineers walking past them without another thought. “i’m going out tonight.”

lando’s smile drops. “oh,” he slouches, “i was here to ask you if you wanted to grab drinks with us at the bar tonight.”

“hey lando, did you f- what are you wearing?” oscar’s jaw drops, nose scrunched up as he points at her in what can only be described as disgust. “where are you even going?”

“out,” she answers with gritted teeth, glancing at the gantries of the paddocks. it’s so close yet so far away. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’ve really got to go.”

“but you never turn down post-quali drinks at the bar,” lando frowns. he presses his palm against his chest and throws his head back. “i can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”

oscar looks her up and down, eyebrow raising as it gets to the heels she’s put on. “why are you wearing heels? seriously, where the hell are you going?”

“exploring the city!”

“exploring the c– we’re here year after year. we know the best spots!” lando defends. “come on! we’re going to have so much fun!”

“you’re exploring the city in heels?”

she narrows her eyes down into a mean glare. of course this is the one time that oscar decides to remember she doesn’t wear high heels for exploration purposes. “yeah.”

“you know you want to come with us.” lando shimmies his shoulders, face hopeful that the driver would change her mind. but she still shakes her head and his smile immediately drops. “fine. be that way.”

“i’m sorry, i already arranged my plans even before we flew to miami,” she laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “if you guys are going out tomorrow, i’m free to join.”

lando intertwines his fingers. “okay. but if you cancel again, i’m crashing into you the next race.”

“okay,” she chuckles, readjusting the strap of her purse. “i’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”

oscar rolls his eyes, but a smile still stretches his lips. “don’t get lost. it’s a big city, (y/n).”

“yeah, penelope’s doing amazing,” max nods, his arm resting on the back of lando’s chair. one of his legs over the other, he takes a swig of his beer. “she just started school recently.”

“oh, i s-“

“hold up!” lando holds his arm out to max’s chest, his scream startling everyone seated around the table. the light from his phone illuminates his face as everyone turns to him with a puzzled stare. “oh, my god!”

“what?” max answers just as enthusiastically, smacking lando’s thigh to get his attention. lando lifts the phone up into his face, squinting as he tries to make out the person in the picture.

“yeah, don’t cut me off,” george scoffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “i was just asking if-“

“(y/n)’s out on a date!” lando yells, smacking max’s chest. he pushes himself off the chair and throws the phone into george’s lap. “dude, i knew it! i knew there was a reason she’s all dressed up!”

“seriously!” george screams towards his fellow brit.

“a date?” oscar scoffs, in absolute disbelief that his best friend could even have the ability to attract a man. “there’s no way.”

max grins sheepishly, handing the phone over to the australian. “i’m afraid so. someone saw her in a restaurant with a guy,” max states, “it’s all over instagram.”

oscar snorts, slowly analysing the grainy picture of the girl in a restaurant with somebody. sure, it’s similar to the dress she wore when they caught her sneaking out of the paddocks, but how sure can they be that it’s her?

“we should go and find her!” max suggests, his face lighting up and cheeks flushed from all the alcohol. he jumps in his seat and smacks george’s thigh lightly. “dude, let’s find her!”

“are you crazy?” george grabs max’s hand and throws it back at his body. “her date’s none of our business!”

though, lando disagrees with his friend. he clasps his hands together with a loud sound. “let’s go, gentlemen. we’re crashing (y/n)’s date.”

but only max stands up, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “i’m ready. i’ve got my brave face on.”

“you look absolutely ridiculous,” george raises an eyebrow, “i don’t believe you used to scare off victoria’s suitors when you were younger.”

“me neither, but it somehow worked,” max nods proudly, turning slightly to look at george. “come on! this is practice for when it’s penelope’s turn! i have to make it believable this time.”

“you’re so drunk, mate,” george sighs. yet he still gets off his seat. “but i kinda want to see this with my own eyes.”

lando turns to oscar, still planted in his seat. lando doesn’t get to say a word before oscar starts shaking his head vigorously.

lando slouches. “why not?”

“i absolutely don’t believe that (y/n) is strong enough to take me in a normal fight,” oscar shakes his head, “but i’ve learned my lesson squeezing myself into a scenario that involves her dating life.”

george tilts his head. “what?”

oscar looks up, eyes scanning the three older men towering over him. “she gave me a really bad bruise one time when i scared off this guy that hit on her in the mall.”

“so?” max yanks oscar off his seat. “i’ll protect you. come on, i’ve got to see who’s sweeping (y/n) off her feet.”

“okay, but remember to tell her i tried to stop you,” oscar mutters, letting max push him towards the door.

after many dms sent on instagram, phone calls made, and struggles to find a taxi, the four have finally arrived at the restaurant. it’s a quiet establishment in the further end of the city, heads turning as passersby recognise the huddled men by the entrance.

“are you sure it’s this one?” oscar looks up at the sign. it’s a lot fancier than he expected. “doesn’t really seem like (y/n)’s gig.”

“if i were taking the grid’s princess out on a date, i’d take her to a fancy restaurant too,” max shrugs, following oscar’s stare.

the amount of time it took them to connect the puzzle pieces really sobered him up.

george taps his foot on the ground, craning his neck for a better look through the window. “are you sure it’s here? i don’t see her.”

“the girl that posted it said she was here when snapped the picture,” lando confirms, looking between his phone screen and the sign of the restaurant. “what if (y/n) tricked us knowing we’d come running?”

once the server comes back out, guiding them to their table, each of them does their own part to pick the girl from the crowd.

“i don’t see her,” max sighs, taking one last look at the restaurant’s tables and picking up the menu. “there’s no way we ditched the bar for a wild goose chase.”

“because she’s in the far corner over there,” oscar says nonchalantly, head flicking towards the other end of the restaurant where it’s slightly darker than normal. “i noticed her when we were outside the restaurant.”

george slowly turns his head to oscar. “while we were busting our asses looking for her?”

oscar shrugs, eyes boring into the menu for a snack to fill himself with. “i told you — i’m not getting another bruise for meddling with her love life.”

“nice! there’s a table closer to her!” max suddenly says, already on his feet to follow the waiter. he turns around and beckons his friends to follow him. “come on!”

they keep their heads low as the face of the familiar girl comes into sight. oscar even covers with his face with the menu, having learned his lesson from all those years ago.

they’re a table diagonal from her, menus up to cover their faces from her. “dude, who is she with?”

“i don’t know, i can’t get a look at his face without revealing mine,” george mutters, peeking slightly above his menu. he darts back down and rolls his eyes. “max, your turn.”

“don’t make it look obvious,” lando mutters, nudging max’s elbow with his. “look like you’re looking for a waiter.”

max swiftly turns in his seat, completely twisting his torso to get a look. but the man is faced away, the driver comfortably sitting in the booth seat as she giggles at something he said.

“dude, i can’t,” max shrugs, shying away behind his menu once more.

to the table next to them, a menu drops and reveals sebastian. “what are you idiots doing here?”

george’s jaw drops, pointing a finger at the older man. “we could ask you the same.”

“we saw her getting in a random ass car outside the paddocks.” the other menu across sebastian lowers, revealing logan with his hood covering his head. “we followed her here.”

“so you know who she’s with?” max asks in a hushed whisper, leaning towards their table. he looks down at the empty table. “you haven’t ordered anything?”

“it took us a while to get a table,” logan shrugs, pulling his hood further down to cover his face. “food’s in the kitchen.”

“oh, what did you get?” max asks, now looking back at the menu for something to order.

“mate!” george scolds, rolling his eyes before facing the other table. “who is she with?”

“according to blythe, it’s jacob elordi,” sebastian says, then shrugs with the roll of his eyes. “whoever that is.”

“oh, i’ve heard of him,” max nods, pressing his lips together. “he was in euphoria, wasn’t he?”

the table falls silent, heads turning to look at the dutchman as his confession falls from his lips. max notices their stares and he simply shrugs. “kelly and i like to watch shows over the break.”

“still not a show i expected you to be watching,” lando scoffs, turning slightly to get a glimpse of the girl once more. “isn’t he a bit too old for her?”

max straightens up, stiffly turning to look at lando. his head tilts as an unimpressed expression lands on his face. “dude. easy on the age gap.”

“yours doesn’t count,” lando sighs, “she’s practically a baby!”

oscar clicks his tongue. “but i mean… jacob elordi isn’t ugly, yes? an upgrade from her only boyfriend, right, max?”

max shrugs. “i guess.”

sebastian nods towards the table, his eyes suddenly widening at the empty booth seat. “where did she go? did she ditch him?”

“no, she caught you.” a low feminine voice makes all their heads turn to the end of the table. she looks down and pulls the hood off of logan’s head and shoves him forward slightly. “why are you here? you’re better than this!”

logan shrugs, chuckling slightly. “you were being secretive! i was just curious!”

“this is the last time i’m going on a date from the paddocks,” she grunts, stomping her heel into the ground. “go home, you guys! we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

sebastian hisses as the waiter stops behind her, dishes resting on top of the tray in his hands. “we already got some food.”

she narrows her eyes down, locking eyes with max. “you’re here too?”

max nods. “i suggested this,” his eyes go around the table, “team bonding activity.”

“i just wanted to see what would happen,” george admits. he points at max seated opposite him, “he said he wanted to scare off whoever your date is.”

“it’s true, i heard him say it,” lando nods, a small and guilty smile flashes at her. “we were just concerned about you.”

sebastian grabs her wrist gently, shaking her arm. “don’t be mad anymore. come on…”

“and you!” she points a finger at the australian sitting quietly between logan and george. his head snaps up at the yelp, wide and guilty eyes meeting hers. “i told you to stop meddling with my love life!”

“what?” oscar screams back, dropping his menu. “i was dragged here against my will!”

“i don’t believe you!”

“max!” oscar looks at max, then points at the furious girl as he awaits his explanation.

max stares at him for a second too long, and a giggle erupts from his throat. “right! right… we forced him here. he did not want another bruise, he said.”

“good,” she scolds, turning on her heel. “we’re leaving.”

“but we just got here!” lando squeaks. he cowers into his seat when she turns back around to glare at him, giving him flashbacks to a time when his mother would use it on him. “i mean, enjoy your time and don’t get too tired. it’s race day tomorrow.”

oscar doesn’t bother looking at her again. “see you tomorrow, loser.”

“where are you going?” george asks, a mischevious grin on his face to challenge her. “back to the hotel for some fun time?”

“a walk,” she sighs, dropping her head. she leans on the table. “my heels are killing me.”

“oh, i’ve got you,” sebastian mutters, disappearing underneath the table. out of his bag is a pair of doll shoes, the ones that she keeps in the garage when her time in the race car is over. “i saw these lying around aimlessly and thought i should keep them for you before it gets too dirty.”

she glares at him, hesitantly taking the shoes into her hand. “you took these from my room, didn’t you?”

sebastian shrugs. “you don’t wear heels very often, kid.”

“give me recommendations for date places,” logan smiles. “maybe next time i’ll have a girl out here with me. like you with jacob elordi.”

her mood changes back to what it was before: a mixture of irritation and not one of amusement. “i will kill you guys tomorrow. my date is waiting for me outside.”

oscar waves her towards the door. “i trust you’ll text logan and i about this later.”

“hey, i want in!” lando adds on, completely ignoring the girl walking away to the door.

“dude, this is seriously none of our business.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife

[pinkpurplesunrises]

Win Me a Grogu - the short story - Alexia Putellas x Reader

“I need him.”

Alexia followed your gaze to the giant Grogu plush perched at the top of a carnival booth. It was huge, with those floppy ears and wide eyes that made it look perpetually innocent and slightly confused.

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you said without hesitation. “Look at his little face. He’s calling to me.”

Alexia tilted her head, pretending to scrutinize him. “He looks like he’s seen some things.”

“Exactly,” you said. “He gets me.”

She snorted. “You want me to win that for you?”

You turned to her with wide, pleading eyes and clasped your hands under your chin. “Please, baby? Just imagine how cute I’ll look cuddling it. And how smug you’ll look for winning it.”

“Now you’re appealing to my ego,” she said, grinning.

“It’s your second-biggest weakness."

She smirked. “What’s the first?”

You just smiled, not answering. But the look you gave her was enough to make her roll her eyes and mutter, “Cheeky,” before stepping up to the booth.

The game was the classic kind: three stacked milk jugs and three balls to knock them down. Alexia rolled her shoulders like she was about to step onto the pitch.

“This is probably rigged,” she said under her breath.

“Come on, you’ve scored goals from outside the box with five defenders on you,” you said. “These jugs have nothing on you.”

The booth guy handed her the first ball. She threw it. One jug toppled. The others stayed put.

“Warm-up shot,” she said confidently.

You crossed your arms, biting back a grin. “No pressure, just the love of your life watching. And also Grogu’s dignity.”

Second ball. She narrowed her eyes. Threw. Two jugs wobbled but stayed up.

You gasped dramatically. “Lex!”

“I swear I hit that square,” she said. “They’re weighted. This is a scam.”

“Scam harder,” you said, grinning.

She paused before the third throw, glancing over at you. “If I get this…”

“Yes?”

“You owe me churros. And a kiss.”

You walked over and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Deal.”

She smiled, turned, and threw the third ball with perfect form. Crash. All three jugs went down.

“Vamoooossss!” she shouted, throwing both fists in the air.

You clapped, bouncing on your heels. The guy handed her the Grogu, and she walked over, cradling it in both arms like a newborn.

“Here you go,” she said, placing it gently in your arms. “Your child.”

“I love him even more now,” you said, hugging Grogu tight. “He has your eyes.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

[zhelin-thames]

Chapter 1: Disguise or Die

next Masterpost

Danny Fenton had survived a lot in his short eighteen years of life. Ghost attacks, interdimensional chaos, and Vlad’s relentless attempts at forced mentorship. But nothing—absolutely nothing—compared to the force of nature that was Jazz when she was in overprotective big sister mode.

Which is how he found himself sitting on a stool in the bathroom, a towel draped around his shoulders, while Jazz aggressively dyed his hair.

“Ow! Jazz, you’re gonna rip my scalp off!” Danny complained as she ran the dye through his hair with the same level of intensity she used when analyzing psychological case studies.

“Oh hush, I barely tugged,” Jazz dismissed, not even pausing. “You’re the one who decided to go to Gotham for college, Danny. The place where Bruce Wayne lives. The place where Batman prowls. You think I’m going to just let you waltz in there looking like prime adoption material?”

Danny groaned, slumping in his seat. “I think you’re being ridiculous. Batman or Bruce Wayne isn’t just gonna ‘adopt’ me, Jazz.”

Jazz scoffed. “You are a short, scrappy, traumatized teenager with a hero complex. You are exactly his type.”

“I am not short,” Danny muttered, crossing his arms. “And besides, I don’t look anything like a Gotham kid.”

“Exactly! Which is why you’re now a redhead,” Jazz said cheerfully. “I even got you purple contacts to match. You’ll look like my twin, which means the Waynes will hopefully assume you’re already taken.”

Danny gave her an incredulous look through the mirror. “You do realize that’s not how adoption works, right?”

“Batman doesn’t play by the rules,” Jazz said seriously. “He sees an unclaimed stray, he swoops in. We are not taking chances.”

Danny sighed. “Fine. Whatever. If it makes you feel better, I’ll wear the disguise.”

Jazz nodded, satisfied, before holding up a small stick. “Also, take this.”

Danny blinked at it. “Uh… is that a creepstick?”

“Yup! If you see Bruce Wayne or Batman, hit him with it and run.”

“…Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

Danny rubbed his face. “I can’t believe my sister is making me carry around a weaponized stick of deodorant to defend myself from rich people.”

Jazz patted his shoulder. “It’s for your own good, Danny.”

He had a bad feeling about all of this.

[justasecretflower]

🥀Hello, I saw you’re eyeless Jack Dating before he was sacrificed. If you wouldn’t mind could you do Toby Rogers- before He went coo coo for cocoa puffs and Slenderman basically stole him. 😭😂 Please and thank you hope you have a good day. 🤍

I LOVE THIS REQUEST SM🤍

🥀- Dating Ticci Toby! Before he became a proxy!

~fluff, set before the accident:)

I won’t be able to post everyday, sadly. Since I’m starting school I’m also gonna start cooking club, national honour society then tennis:(. But please keep requesting I will not stop posting completely:).

____________________________________________

- you noticed Toby’s golden heart at first, how much he got bullied, everything in his life, yet he remained to have a soft expression.

- At first, he thought you were pranking him when you gave him the note, your cheeks flush. But when he looked at the note and thought it was a prank he didn’t miss the hurt on your face.

________________________________________

Toby’s dark hazel eyes scan the note, some tics jerking his neck and making him restart reading the note. Thinking it’s some sick joke, as if anyone like you would like anyone like him, his eyes narrow and he practically spits at you. “L- Let me guess. T-this was a sick joke w-wasn’t it?” He says seriously, his tics making him stutter a bit but his tone remained hurt, aggravated, and angry, all of the bullying he received callousing his heart and making him firmly believe that no one would even spare him a second glance. Your eyes fill with hurt and your stomach plunges from rejection, a little embarrassed and let down your voice shakes. “No it’s not. I really like you.” Toby softened a bit at your tone but then hardened again “you don’t know me.” You were fed up. Can’t he see you actually like him for him? “But I want to.” Toby’s mouth shuts and he shoves his hands in his pockets of his black hoodie and nods. “I’ll have my sister pick you up so we can go to the movies or something Friday..” he says reluctantly, still a little convinced that you wouldn’t ever like him.

_________________________________________

- his sister, Lyra, was absolutely glowing when you entered the car, sticking her hand out almost immediately and smiling widely, no one had taken her brother out before, not even giving him respect. So she was over the moon.

- you talked with Lyra a bit, and then turned your attention towards Toby, who was looking at you with softest, most affectionate filled earthy green eyes ever. Sparkling gently. It was like he lit up when he finally realised you were serious, not only serious but getting along with his sister.

- during the movie, you tried very very slowly to grab his hand. He immediately tensed and gasped a tiny bit. But only 20 minutes later he reached out, first with his pinky and then his whole, shaky, scarred hand.

- when you intertwined your fingers, Toby was convinced he never felt more happy, he didn’t even watch the rest of the movie, he was focused on you.

-how your features glowed in the dim light, how you smiled during a happy moment, or gently did your [enter your nervous fidget.] when a tense part came up.

____________________________________________

-when he’s tired of everything going on in his house he’ll bike ride or walk over to your house and taps on the window just to hold you.

- he’ll pull your waist in with his arms and bury his face in your shoulder. Gently kissing it sweetly mumbling “my y/n”

-genuinely wants to cry of happy tears whenever you defend him from bullies.

- finger tip kisses.

-while you two are sitting across from each other in somewhere public, or holding each other in the quiet night, he lifts your intertwined hands, frees your hand and gently kisses your fingertips.

-he can’t really buy you any gifts but he certainly makes you tiny doodles on sticky notes to put in your locker or room.

- his eyes got misty when you first told him you loved him.

-you got him a gold heart locket with your picture in it and yourself one with his picture. He never takes it off and kisses it whenever he misses you.

-late night talks on the rooftop, stargazing, after he ran to your house again in the middle of the night.

-You’re his angel; his light, the love of his life. He can’t stop the thoughts of running away with you whenever he looks at your pretty smile or hears your heavenly laugh.

- “My sweet y/n” “my y/n” “Angel”

-your first kiss is when you two were stargazing, the sweetest, most affectionate kiss ever. Putting your foreheads together first, lacing your fingers, then finally meeting for a soft kiss.

-he runs to you if he sees you in the hallways.

-so, in theory…Toby..💪

____________________________________________

Thanks for reading! I love all of your requests btw🤍.

Tags

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Protector

Requested by @captaincvans

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector

It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”

To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.

“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”

“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.

Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.

…

Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.

So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.

A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.

So you stayed behind.

But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.

…

“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“

“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”

“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”

“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”

“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.

“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”

Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.

“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.

“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”

“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”

The screaming stopped again.

“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”

“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“

“I think we’re done here.”

The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.

…

“We got a location.”

Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.

“Finally, let’s go.”

“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”

“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.

“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.

“The plan is get her back.”

…

You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.

However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.

Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.

“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“

Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.

“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.

“Dean?”

Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.

“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”

“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.

There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.

“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.

Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.

“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.

“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”

Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

…

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.

“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.

“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.

“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.

“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”

Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.

“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”

You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.

“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”

Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.

“You…but you were gone for three days.”

“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.

“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.

“Dean, it’s not your fault.”

He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.

“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.

“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”

“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“

“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”

“Then say it.”

Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

…

“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.

“I’m ok,” you insisted.

“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.

Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.

He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.

You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.

The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.

“I’m ok.”

…

You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.

So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.

You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.

“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.

“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.

After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.

He was your protector, always.

But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.

[leclucklerc]

Something Immortal CL16 - 02. Bad Idea

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wayne!reader

Summary: Y/n Wayne knows that this is a bad idea. But well, going against the law is something that runs in the Wayne Family.

Word Count: 4.4K

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“Is B really going to buy an F1 team?”

Y/n looked up from the plate of dessert in front of her towards where Jason was sitting. The both of them are in the VIP lounge of the Monaco GP, waiting for the race to start before being ushered towards the Ferrari garage.

“What makes you say that?”

Jason gave her a pointed look. “I’m not dumb,” he said. “I can see a business talk even if it’s miles away.” At this, he pointed towards the paddock that could be seen from the windows in front of them.

They could see a glimpse of Bruce, laughing and talking with people with different team kits. Y/n recognized most of them as the team principals or even the management team from different F1 teams.

“Y/n, seriously, I don’t have time to become a driver,” said Jason. “And I’ll probably suck at it, most of these guys had been racing since they were in diapers.”

“Still,” defended the woman, fully aware that Jason’s argument was fairly logical. “You don’t have to be a driver, but I think being around Formula One, something that you’re passionate about, can help you, Jason.”

He doesn’t have to be a driver if he doesn’t want to. Hell, truthfully, if Jason really puts his foot down and strictly declares that no, buying a whole Formula One team is not going to help him, then y/n and Bruce will stop. The both of them will leave this silly idea behind and never look back once more.

But she had seen him. How his eyes followed every garage that they passed in rapid attention. How he attentively listened to what John had said about Ferrari’s Formula One team, how he had watched the free practice and qualifying alone the days before.

It’s been a while. Maybe the last time she saw him being this passionate about something was before his death. To see Jason looking forward to something, to see his brother actually enjoy doing something outside of his crime-fighting activities.

“I-“

“Jay,” she said again, reaching out to hold the older man’s hand. “I- I know we’re not the best family. B is not the best father and the rest of us have not been the best siblings but still I-“ she stopped at that, eyes searching for Jason’s own. 

Years of guilt appeared inside of her. Years of missing memories between the two of them. Years full of regret and anger that had soured their relationship beyond words. 

Y/n, only wants what is best for her brother. “I still want you to be happy,” she said, blue eyes with a hint of green meeting hers. “I want to see you laughing again, be integrated into society, and live your dream-!”

Jason looks lost and y/n is really glad that this section of the VIP lounge was reserved for them.

Because the man in front of her looks so fucking vulnerable. 

She still remembers that time when Jason just returned to Gotham. All Lazarus green eyes and rage oozing out of his form. How he had practically attacked Tim, taunting the rest of them, and begged their father to choose him over that clown.

Y/n also remembers the emptiness that appeared in his eyes when they informed him that the Joker was dead.

It was one of the most terrifying moments of her life. Because Jason had it made his mission to kill that clown. To avenge the fallen Robin that had remained unavenged. To finally end the reign of terror that the prince of clowns had put upon Gotham City.

To know that he’s dead?

Well.

There are just so so many things left unsaid between the two of them. Too much pain and history that had happened between the two of them. To see, Jason who had always raged and raged looking this lost is-

“I’ve been wondering-“ said Jason, leaning forward. “Ever since that clown died, I’ve been wondering what the fuck I should do with my life-“

It’s a familiar conversation. Something that Jason had told her months ago under the darkness of the night. When there are only the two of them on top of his safehouse rooftop, sharing a stick of cigarettes to fight off the cold.

Y/n leaned forward, touching their shoulder together. It’s something that they often did before Ethiopia all those years ago. When Jason was nothing but a short and skinny kid that’s not too far off y/n own size. 

It’s been years since Ethiopia and a lot of things have changed.

“Have you decided, Jay?” she asked, eyes closing and head leaning towards his shoulder. “Whatever you want, you know that we will support you.”

Jason was silent for a bit.

The female too, sat there in silence, giving the older male a chance to think it through.

“I still want to be Red Hood,” he whispered, far too low for anyone to hear except y/n. “I still want to make Crime Alley a better place for people to live in.”

Y/n has to fight off a smile at that. Such a typical answer for a bat. Such a typical answer for the son of Bruce Wayne.

“Yeah?” she said. 

Jason hummed. “But I also want to live my life.”

A smile appeared on y/n face. She can feel the excited thrumming of her heart as she continues to listen.

“Oh?” she asked. “And that is?”

“Going to university, getting an English degree,” at this, he stopped. “And living the dream F1 fan life ‘cause my family owned a fucking team here.”

Y/n laughed at that; happiness clear on her face.

Bruce got the honor to wave the checkered flag that marks the end of the Monaco GP.

Her dad looks pleased, but she also knows that inside of that large smile and laugh, her dad simply doesn’t care. This business trip to Monaco had been a risky move after all, if it’s not for Jason’s happiness, y/n doesn’t think her dad would even consider going on this business trip.

In the end, when her dad was handed the checkered flag, the man put the flag into Jason’s hand.

“Do you want to do it, Jay?”

Jason blinked. “Huh?”

“Waving the flag,” answered her dad, letting out a smile. “Instead of me, my son can do it, right?” asked Bruce, turning his head towards where the president of FIA and the chairman of Ferrari stood.

“Of course, of course!” Said Ben, the president of FIA. “It would be an honor for us!”

“But they literally asked for you” answered Jason.

Her dad merely laughed at that. “They said you can do it, son.”

Jason may look like as if he wants to protest, but y/n knows that the man is far too excited at the prospect of waving the checkered flag at the Monaco GP. He may grumble and curse her dad a few times, but he really can’t hide the happiness that’s shining through his eyes at the mere thought of it.

The older man too, seemed to notice his son’s excitement as he let out an indulgent smile as he watched her brother being escorted to his position.

“Jason looks happy,” she said. “It’s been a while since I saw him like that.”

“I know,” murmured her dad. There was silence between the two of them before her dad leaned forward towards her a bit. “I saw you earlier.”

Y/n raised her eyebrow. “What?”

“I saw you flirting with one of the drivers,” replied her dad. “The Ferrari one.”

Ah, she thought. He was referring to Charles. “It was an act, Dad,” she simply said. “You know, like your Brucie Wayne persona? I just think that it will do us some good if we’re on a friendly term with the paddock.”

Her dad stared at her. “There are better ways to do that, like chatting with the FIA president, for instance,” replied the man as he turned his gaze toward where Ben and John were talking with Jason near the track. “I don’t think flirting with a driver will really help our cause.”

Y/n shrugged, “He’s cute, what can I say?”

“Y/n.”

“What?” she hissed out. “I have to watch you flirt with Selina the entirety of my life, let me flirt with cute boys for a change!”

“You know it’s different,” pointed out her dad, leaning closer towards her. “Don’t associate with anyone outside of the masked community.”

The woman rolled her eyes at that.

She knows that the older man has a point. She knows that he’s doing this in order to protect all of them. Not only his hidden identity, but the rest of the family and possibly the rest of the Justice League. Bruce has always put a tight leash on all of his children regarding the interaction and the social circle that they all kept. Most of the time, the man didn’t have to worry considering most of his children worked inside the masked community, resulting in most of their friends being another superhero.

But y/n?

Despite her close association and frequent presence in their nightly activity, she sometimes thinks that her dad forgets that she’s not a vigilante or a hero. Yes, she knows all of their secret identity, yes, she often assisted her brothers on their not-so-legal work.

Outside of all of that, y/n is a civilian. She’s just a normal doctor who’s not saving the world during her past time. She’s a normal woman that’s working in a perfectly legal job.

Friends are hard to come by when you’re the daughter of the richest man in the world. Friends are harder to come by when you’re the daughter of the richest man in the world who is also hiding the fact that he’s the dark knight himself.

“I know,” she hissed out. “It’s a persona dad, I doubt we’ll talk again.”

Her dad gave her a look as if he didn’t believe in that.

And well.

Um.

Charles won the Monaco GP. The first Monegasque driver to do so in the last 93 years. Jason had failed to hide his excitement as he waved the checkered flag.

Her family was there, right in front of the podium as they watched the Ferrari drivers and the McLaren driver celebrating the win that they acquired. Y/n was standing there, smiling politely as she watched the champagne shower that was happening in front of them.

It was also then, that their eyes met.

She was not sure if Charles was looking at her or at someone near her, but the man’s already wide smile had gotten wider as he locked his eyes with her. And it was also then, that Charles sent her a wink.

Huh.

Okay.

Oookay.

I’ll meet you later, he seems to mouth off, a bit quickly, before he continues the champagne shower with the rest of the drivers.

So much for not talking with him anymore.

“Hi, stranger.”

Y/n can’t help the quirk of her mouth at that greeting.

The woman turned her gaze towards the source of the voice, eyes immediately falling towards where Charles Leclerc stood next to her. There’s a smile on his lips, hair tousled and green eyes twinkling.

“Hello,” she greeted back, raising her glass of champagne. “Drink?”

Charles chuckled. “I had enough champagne for the day,” replied the male as he took a seat next to her.

She can’t help but laugh at that. “I mean, you won today,” answered the female, putting down the glass of champagne on top of the table in front of them. “How does it feel to be a Monaco GP race winner? And did you actually drink the champagne that’s being sprayed earlier?” Being sprayed with a bottle of champagne sure is an experience, it seems. 

“Amazing,” he breathed out, inching closer to her. “I guess a change of mindset is the only thing needed to break the curse.”

“I told you,” said the female, amusement dripping on her tone. “Guess I did become a really lucky girl today.”

“I hope so,” answered Charles. “I did remember your words throughout the race.”

“Oh? You did?” teased y/n. “Seeing Charles Leclerc win the Monaco GP live and being constantly on his mind? What a lucky girl I am.”

Charles let out a laugh at that.

The dinner party around them is buzzing with blaring music and drunken chatter. The event itself was hosted by WE and the FIA. A collaboration work between the two entity that marks the beginning of WE’s involvement in the motorsport industry. It was the reason why her dad – a reclusive who hardly leaves Gotham if he can help it – needed to do a business trip in Monaco.

And of course, for the simple reason of buying Jason an F1 team. 

Not that y/n is complaining. She had wanted to visit Monaco forever and this was the perfect opportunity to do it. Watching a Formula 1 race live is a bonus that she will never miss out on.

The dinner party that they hosted was the formal event that they made for the winners of the race. Though, it seems most of the drivers are in attendance. No doubt advised by each of their respective team to gain the elusive Wayne sponsorship.

She knows that the news of Bruce Wayne wanting to buy an F1 team or become a major sponsor had already made its rounds. Even the bigger teams who don’t really need more money came in order to make some kind of connection with Wayne Enterprise.

Truthfully, this dinner party made her nervous a bit. After all, it’s not like she attended a party outside of Gotham.

But still, Charles’s sudden presence helped ease up her nervousness for a bit.

“Where’s your brother?” asked Charles, eyes flickering around the room.

“Ah, Jason is not feeling well,” replied the female. “He decided to stay in our hotel.” Which is a blatant lie. Y/n knows that Jason brought his Red Hood gear all the way here. He’s probably prowling the streets of Monaco, searching for that gang boss who made him join this business trip to Monaco initially.

Charles hummed at that, taking a seat next to her.

“I heard you helped orchestrate this whole dinner party,” started the man.

Y/n laughed at that. “Orchestrating is a big word, considering me and my family just throw some money at the event organizer.”

“Still, I really like the red accents, it was as if you already know that Ferrari is going to win today’s race,” said the male as he gestured towards the red flower as well as the red napkins on top of the tables.

The woman grinned cheekily at that. “Who said I don’t? Maybe I have the power to see the future?”

Charles raised his eyebrows at that, amusement clear in his eyes. “Oh?” he prompted out, leaning forward. “Can you see my future then?”

Y/n hummed, mouth closing in a wide smile as she too, leaned forward. Both of their face are really close to each other. “Hm…” she let out. “I think… You’re going to be really drunk tonight.”

He laughed at that, eyes crinkling. “It’s given,” he said, grinning.

“Really?” she said, sounding amused. “Do you want me to see further into your future?”

“You can?” asked Charles, with a tilt of his head, mouth still grinning. “What a fearsome power that you have.”

The female giggled. “I think I can see…” she whispered. “A future world champion here.”

Now, Charles is full-blown laughing, the glass of champagne that he had been holding now forgotten as he lets the amusement to envelop his very being. 

“Seriously,” he said the first part in French before he switched back to English, “You really know how to appease someone.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah,” said Charles. “You better be careful, or I’ll think that you’ve been flirting with me.”

It’s a bold thing to say, especially to Bruce Wayne’s daughter.

She knows that she’s one of the most desirable women in the marriage market, considering her looks and her family. Many people had attempted to flirt with her, to trap her with their honeyed words and kind gestures. 

But still, it’s been a while since there’s someone this bold.

“Well, I’ve been flirting with you,” replied y/n instead. “It would be embarrassing if you thought otherwise.”

Yeah, the moment she uttered those words, she knew that this was a bad choice to make.

Because at that moment, she could see the sparkle of interest in Charles’s eyes. The light that suddenly shone behind those green orbs as the man leaned forward toward her. Y/n could faintly smell the cologne that he wore, a masculine one that reminded her of her dad for a bit.

“Oh?” he said, mouth quirking up and eyes crinkling. “I’ve been flirting with you too, if you haven’t noticed.”

Okay, this isn't good. She needs to stop this before they go further and ignite her dad’s anger. 

“I see,” answered y/n with a smile. “Anyway Mr. Future World Champion, I think your team principal is looking for you-“

It was the perfect excuse because she really did have seen Fred wandering around the room in search of his driver. However, whatever she was going to say stopped immediately when a hand reached out to grab her wrist. She immediately looked down, staring at Charles’ palm.

“Hey,” said the male, grinning. “Wanna go somewhere fun?”

She should say no.

Y/n can already imagine her father’s disappointed sigh and the loud protest from her brothers. She can already see her doing the walk of shame tomorrow, with Jason silently judging her. It would be stupid of her to say yes because there are just so many consequences waiting for her if she took up that offer.

There’s literally no reason for her to say yes to someone that she barely knows.

But well-

Charles looked at her with those bright green eyes of his, the corner crinkling up from how wide his smile was. There’s something about his expression – so transparent, so genuine, something that she rarely saw in Gotham – that tickled her heart at the right place.

Maybe it’s the dimpled smile, maybe she was simply swept up by the moment.

But the next thing that she knew was-

“Yes,” she answered.

The smile that Charles let out can ignite the room.

The music is loud. Louder than what she used to.

There’s a huge misconception of her back in Gotham. Due to her father’s public persona, as well as her brother’s less-than-idle nature, the media had portrayed her as a party girl once upon a time.

But really, this is the first time for her to be in a club.

Clubs are not that common to start with in Gotham. Due to the high crime rate, and the many many dangers, clubs scarcely exist in the city. Galas though? Galas happens almost every week. Due to that, y/n only ever attended galas and galas.

So this, this is a new experience for her.

She could see the throngs of people around her, dancing and laughing, fully immersed in the music around them. There’s something about the air that just made everyone highly excited as if there’s no tomorrow.

It didn’t take long for her to be swept up by the atmosphere too.

 “So, how are you enjoying the night?” Yelled Charles as the two of them laughed and danced in the middle of the dance club. Y/n was glad that she had opted for a short dress because really, the ball gowns that she used to wear for galas will be sticking out like a sore thumb in this kind of scene.

 “It’s been fantastic!” answered the woman, amidst the loud music. Her mouth is a bit aching from how wide she’s been grinning but that really can’t dampen her mood. “It’s not my usual scene, but I guess a change of environment is not that bad.”

“Oh? Gotham doesn’t have a lot of parties?” laughed Charles, hand finding themselves around her wrist.

She stepped closer, face almost touching. “Mostly galas, or gatherings,” said y/n, letting out a shrug, before a grin overtook her face once again. “It’s not exactly safe to throw a wild party like this in a city like Gotham after all.” 

Something flickered in Charles’ eyes as he let out a hum.

“So,” started the woman, wanting to change the subject of the conversation. She leaned forward, cocking her head for a bit. “Is Monaco nightlife had always been this lively?”

“It is when it’s my party,” said the man, as they stepped out of the dance floor towards the bar.

Ordering for the both of them, Charles sidled close to her.

“You’re really trying to get drunk tonight?” teased the woman.

“Not too much,” replied the man. “I wanna remember you.”

She hummed. “Well, what’s stopping you?” she asked. “Don’t you think we should make more memories then?”

Charles turned to her, and the grip that he had around her waist tightened.

“Oh?” he said, voice lower. “Are you sure?”

The grin that she lets out must’ve been enough of confirmation because the next thing that she knew, they’re stumbling into Charles’ Ferrari, lips interlocked with each other in a desperate and sloppy make-out session.

She’s grateful that the parking space is located in a discreet place because her appearance right now is less dignified than what Bruce Wayne’s daughter should be. Though, she really can’t seem to care right now. All she knows is the taste of Charles’ lips on her and how his hand traveled all across her body, giving her a delicious tease of pleasure.

They fell into bed together.

That night had been a bit of a blur, to be honest. He remembers dancing with y/n, laughing, and touching her under the club lights. He remembers dragging her to the edge of the dance floor, head leaning forward.

“Can I?” he had muttered, head cocking sideways.

Y/n had let out a laugh at that, hands winding around his neck before she too, leaned forward.

He remembers the sweet taste of her mouth, how she had opened her mouth, letting their tongue meet in a wet mess. How his hands had wandered around, starting from her back before reaching downwards towards the edge of her short dress.

“Let’s take this somewhere,” muttered y/n back then, releasing his mouth with a string of droll still connecting them. “Somewhere more private,” the last part was whispered and he remembers the jolt of arousal that hit him at that very moment.

Charles doesn’t have a clear memory of how they managed to get into his apartment. All he remembers is how he pinned y/n by his front door, savoring her as they rutted against each other like a teenager. 

The night ended with them on his bed, rustling against each other and-

Charles cracked his eyes open, watching the sun filter into his room from the crack of his curtain.

He could feel the pounding headaches as the memories from last night rushed into him like a tsunami. Of him winning the Monaco GP, of him attending the formal dinner, of him and y/n stumbling into bed together-

His eyes widened as he immediately turned his gaze toward the other side of the bed.

Sitting there, still topless with a blanket covering her, is y/n Wayne, brow furrowed as she scrolled something on her phone. That sight immediately warmed something across his heart as he stared at the woman silently, not wanting to avert his gaze for a second.

“You’re awake?” asked y/n, turning her gaze towards him.

He let out a hum, shuffling closer towards her.

At that, y/n’s hand fell on top of his head, caressing his unruly mop of hair. It’s soothing, something that he really needs amidst the headache that’s been throbbing inside of his head. They stayed like that for a couple of moments, basking in each other presence.

The moment didn’t last long because y/n phone rang.

“Yeah?” asked the woman before she stared at him for a moment before she began talking in a language that he didn’t understand.

Charles faintly recognizes it as German. He knows a couple of words, but with the way y/n talking as if she’s a native speaker, well, it’s safe to say that he really doesn’t have a clue about what she’s talking about. The phone call didn’t last long. Only a couple of minutes at best. Though, at the end, y/n let out a sigh.

“Something wrong?” he asked, sitting up.

“Charles, listen,” stated the woman. “This is a bit awkward, but I gotta go.”

He ignores the disappointment that erupted inside his chest. The driver had been hoping that they could have breakfast together before taking a stroll around Monaco before he had to see her off.

“I really enjoyed last night but-“

Before she can even finish that sentence, Charles interrupts her again. “Can I see you again?”

Y/n blinked, staring at him. “Yes?”

“See you again,” said the driver, leaning closer. “I really enjoyed last night. More than simply enjoying it,” he continues. “I like to do it again.”

The woman is still staring at him.

“Of course, I mean not only fucking, but like, I would love to have a date with you,” he continue, tongue a bit tied at the sight of an angel in front of him. “If you give me the chance?”

Honestly, he was not expecting much. A woman like y/n must have had a lot of suitors or partners all her life. Charles will be the luckiest man on earth if y/n even gives him a chance for a single date, let alone dating her.

It was silent for a bit, as the both of them stared at each other with no words being exchanged.

The moment was broken when y/n let out a loud laugh.

It startled him a bit, Charles doesn’t really understand what’s funny about his declaration and yet, he doesn’t really mind it. After all, the sight of y/n letting out such a carefree laugh is something that he will integrate into his memory forever.

“Yeah,” said the woman, finally. “Let’s see each other again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” grinned the woman. “But next time, bring me to a proper date, okay?”

Charles laughed at that, giving her a single kiss.

taglist!

@piceous21 @myloveforfandom-blog @barnestatic @ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirl-dot-com @halleest @a-beaverhausen @sagestack @redcellghost @mac-daddy-210 @kellysthilaire

[fuck-customers]

I’m close friends with 2 of my coworkers, but we have a coworker, I’ll call her J, likes to think she’s “one of us”. We’re obviously grown adults so we try not to let her behavior affect us, but she’s seriously insufferable. She’s not only a lazy and nosy employee, but just hanging out with her is hard. Her body odor is strong and her hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in weeks despite her saying she bathes often, and this makes me uncomfortable because she likes to hug us. Her clothes have a gross smell despite her saying she does laundry weekly. The smell of her clothes sometimes permeates into my clothes when her clothes are near mine and it’s usually a combination of weed, dampness, and sourness. She overshares and is loud so she’ll have a conversation with her boyfriend at her desk that she thinks no one heard and then will tell us about the phone afterwards or will randomly share her sex life with us even though we never asked. And on that topic, she doesn’t understand personal space as she thinks what’s mine is hers. If you left her borrow something even once, she’ll go through your things to get it again because we’re “friends”. It’s exhausting being around her so we all find ways to encourage her to take time off or leave early just so we can spend less time with her. Anything to not have to be around her because it’s so draining. Today my 2 coworkers and I were talking about getting coffee and J (who already has her own cup of coffee) inserts herself and says we should order from ⭐️💲because there’s a drink she likes. We all declined, but I mostly declined because I just knew she’d have one of us order for her since she’s always tight on money but somehow always spending it on something useless. That bothered her so she kept trying to pressure us to order from there as if she wouldn’t be able to order unless we also ordered, and that confirmed my theory. Then she started to get passive aggressive and said to the other 2 that if they weren’t around, she would’ve been able to pressure me into ordering. Aka she would’ve been able to get me to buy her a drink. That pissed me off because I didn’t like how she acted like she knew me. I told her I’ve long since deleted that app and I don’t even remember my password so she’s wrong. This set her off more and she started sulking the whole day. She became more upset when she discovered one of the other 2 coworkers wanted to take the same day off as her. So J reluctantly switched her day off to another day even though no one asked her to and then continued to sulk about it. I don’t understand this behavior and it makes the work environment more toxic than it needs to be. I can’t tell our manager because he’s close with J and defends her all the time. I think it’s because their personalities are similar. In the past, I tried to subtly warn him about J and how she’s skewing his numbers, but he went behind my back and snitched on me. He told her I was backstabbing her but fortunately I was able to convince her that he misunderstood what I was saying and the issue was resolved. However since then I never tell him anything.

Posted by admin Rodney

[desperate-gay]

The Look of Love

Ali Krieger x fem!reader

summary: fake dating one of your best friends turns out to be one of the best lies of your life

“-It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Says you! It’s going to be so embarrassing for me.”

Ali turns her head and sees you and Kelley bickering back and forth. She can’t help but notice the cute pout on your face as you playfully stump your foot and huff at the defender.

“Now what are you two arguing about?” Alex asks, giving the both of you a pointed look.

“Our friend here has been invited to her brother’s wedding, but she doesn’t have a plus one,” Kelley informs while resting her hands on your shoulders, making you roll your eyes and head over to your locker.

“It’s not how it sounds. My family constantly pesters me about how my siblings are either engaged, married, or even having a kid. I don’t even have a girlfriend! I just don’t want to deal with people asking me where my plus one is on my brother’s special day.” You sigh, shaking your head and pulling your sweaty training jersey over your head.

You only have two siblings; one brother and one sister. Your sister has been married for around two years and is now pregnant with her second child, and now your brother is getting married. A little over a year ago, you were dating a girl you thought would be your endgame until you caught her kissing some other girl at a coffee shop. At the time when invitations were sent, you expected to have someone attending with you, but now you don’t.

“So why don’t you bring a fake date?” Christen shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, so when she turns around, she notices everyone staring at her. “What?”

“That’s genius! Y/n/n you’ve got to do it.”

Everyone begins to agree with Kelley and Christen while you stay quiet with a hesitant look on your face. Ali also remains silent, observing your reactions to see what your thoughts are about it.

“Guys I- I don’t even know where I would begin to look for someone willing to do something like this, yet learn everything about them within two days.”

“Then one of us can help you!” Kelley says, expanding her arms, gesturing around the whole locker room. “C’mon, it will be a win-win. No family bothering you about your love life and your brother gets his day.”

Thinking of all the pros and cons, you eventually agree to the plan.

“Well, who’s gonna be my girlfriend for a day?” You ask, sighing at how stupid it sounds.

“I can’t because I have plans with Sam in Australia-“

“-me neither, I have to be out of state but the end of tomorrow.”

A bunch of the girls start spitting out excuses and their plans for the week. You just roll your eyes and continue packing your kit bag up.

“I’ll do it.”

Your head immediately snaps up along with everyone else’s. Silence overcomes the room, but you continue to stare at the person who volunteered.

“Wha- wait, seriously?” You stammer with your eyes slightly wider than usual.

“I don’t see why not. I don’t have any plans and I can help you out.” Ali shrugs nonchalantly while the rest of the room remains quiet, silently watching the interaction between you two.

“Oh my god, thank you thank you thank you!” Ali laughs when you bring her into a bear hug and bounce up and down before pulling away slightly, causing your moves to slow.

“It is an open bar, right?” She looks down at you with a teasing smile. You smack her shoulder and begin to pull away before she pulls you back in, laughing at your reaction.

Christen and Alex give each other a knowing look and go back to changing.

—

“Okay, let’s go over this one last time.” You say, scared that if people start asking questions about your relationship you’re not gonna have the same answers. Your rushing mind is stopped by Ali reaching out and grabbing your hand from across the table.

“Y/n/n, it’s going to be okay. We’ve known each other for years, so all we have to do is say how our first date was and maybe a few other details.” She starts gesturing her breathing by raising her hand up and down and pursing her lips for you to follow her lead.

Once your heart rate goes down to its normal level, you both head into the separate rooms of your apartment to get dressed. The wedding starts in about 2 hours, so you’re both just on time. When you step out of the room and into the living room, you notice Ali staring at you with her eyes widened and mouth slightly slacked.

“What? Does it look bad? Oh god, I cannot deal with the comments of-“ You ramble on while twisting and turning to see if there is something wrong with the dress.

“N-no, no, you just look…stunning.” The tall girl words breathlessly, admiring your loose lilac-colored dress that matches amazingly with your light face of makeup.

You blush and take in her outfit. She stands in a cream-colored suit that compliments your dress perfectly. “You also look great.”

After a minute of just looking at each other, Ali clears her throat and says, “We better get going if we don’t want to be late. M’lady?”

She holds out her arm with an opening between her forearm and bicep for you to slot your own in. You giggle, accepting her gesture while walking to her car. Being the gentlewoman she is, she opens the passenger door for you and offers you a hand so you don’t trip in your heels.

“Here we go.” You mumble before Ali starts driving.

—

You and Ali walk into the venue hand in hand while scanning over the crowded room.

“Darling!” Looking up you see your mother walking over to you with open arms.

“Hey, mom.” You accept her hug before introducing her to your girlfriend. Ali shakes her hand and makes a small conversation as if it’s the easiest thing on the planet. You begin to space out but a laugh and a hand on your lower back interrupt your thoughts.

“You okay, my love?” The girl next to you asks once her laughter dies down. The name gives you butterflies but you choose to ignore it, knowing that all of this is fake.

The reason you got into your past relationship was because of Ali. You have basically followed her to each and every one of her clubs your whole career. You met in 2013 when you both were signed to Washington Spirit, and you have been attached to each other’s hips since that day. You quickly found yourself blushing and swooning at everything the brunette did after a few months of knowing her and you carried those feelings all these years. The only people who know are Alex and Christen.

Instead of confronting your love for the defender, you tried everything to try and vanish them. Eventually, you got into a relationship with your ex when you finally started to feel something for someone else, but that ended up in the dumper.

Now you’re afraid that all your feelings are going to flood and resurface. Sure you never stopped loving her, but it didn’t feel as strong. The fact she is your fake girlfriend for the day is going to make it 10x harder to ignore the constant butterflies in your stomach and the blood rushing to your face with every word she speaks to you.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Don’t worry baby, you might get wrinkles.” You tease while wiping your thumb over her cheeks, causing the talker girl to squat your hand away with a laugh.

“I am not that old.”

You have a 6-year age gap, but you both never think of it because you’re so connected in ways that most people who are the same age are.

“Keep telling yourself that, granny.”

Your mother watches the interaction between you two with a soft smile before excusing herself to go talk to other members of your family. Your mom has always been supportive of you and always stood by your side through the tough times, so seeing you look so happy makes her heart squeeze.

—

After the vows and rings are exchanged, everyone heads over to the room where the reception is going to be held. Ali’s hand never leaving the small of your back, guides you to the room with music blaring out from it.

Most people go out onto the dance floor and sway to the music while you both find a table to sit at. She pulls out the chair for you to take a seat and places a kiss on your cheek, making your face turn all red.

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks, I’ll be right back.”

Once she’s out of sight, your mom pops a squat across from you and gives you an unreadable expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask warily, scared of what might come out of her mouth.

“She’s not your girlfriend.”

You’re taken aback by the sudden admission and start to stumble over your words. “Wha- what do you mean?”

“Oh please, you can’t lie without me figuring it out. I have mom instincts.” She states matter of factly while sipping on her champagne.

You take a look around to see if anyone is near you and lean in so she can hear you clearly without having to shout. “Okay, we’re not dating but no one can know.”

“Why did you even lie in the first place?”

“Because I can’t deal with Aunt Mary or Uncle John constantly asking when I’m going to settle down and why I haven’t yet. At least not on my brother’s and sister-in-law’s night.” You sigh, looking down at your fingers as you fiddle with the tablecloth.

Your mother reaches across the table and grasps your hand before going on to say, “I know that you love her. She’s the girl you were so hung over on before you got with she devil, isn’t she?”

You snort at the nickname your siblings and mother have given your ex. They all thought she was no good from the beginning and knew you could do better, and so did Ali but she never let you know that.

“Yeah, she is.” You nod and look over, noticing the girl you’re speaking about approaching you. Your mom also sees so she quickly says something that leaves you stunned.

“From the way she looks at you, she feels the same, even when you’re not looking she can’t keep her eyes off of you. She looks at you like you’ve hung all the stars in the sky. She loves you, sweetie.” With that, she stands up and greets Ali with a smile before heading over to the newlyweds. You continue looking shocked not noticing your plus-one setting down your glasses.

“You still there?” Ali waves her hand in front of your face, grinning once your eyes meet hers.

“Sorry, did you say something before?” You ask with a soft smile to which the older girl responds with a nod.

“I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me with a dance?” She holds out her hand, hoping you’ll take it and you do.

“I would love to.”

Right when your feet hit the dance floor, a slow song turns on making you feel as sheepish as if you were at your first middle school dance. Without hesitation, Ali intertwines one of her hands with yours and rests her other on your waist. You place your other hand right where her neck meets her shoulder before you both begin to sway. The side of your forehead presses against her cheek, keeping you close together.

Subconsciously, you inhale her perfume and sigh at the smell, and what you don’t know is Ali is doing the same thing to your hair, smelling your coconut shampoo. When you open your eyes, you look over her shoulder and notice your mom smiling at the two of you. She nods her head, signaling for you to finally confess your true feelings.

You let out a shaky breath before pulling away slightly so you can see Ali’s face. She smiles at you with her eyes remaining on yours. The crinkles on the side of her eyes make you swoon and lose your thoughts.

“Do you want to know what my mom said to me while you went to get us drinks?”

“What?” She cocks her head to the side slightly, showing you she’s pretty curious as to what was said.

“Well, first, she told me she knows that we’re not dating, and second, she insists that you love me.” You whisper the last part, hoping she doesn’t catch it but she does.

She chuckles and looks up at the ceiling before returning her gaze to you and says, “Is it that obvious?”

Your head snaps up at her statement and you look at her with a puzzled look.

“You…love me?” You ask, pointing at yourself to make sure she is indeed talking about you.

“It’s impossible not to. That doesn’t scare you, does it?” Now it’s her turn to look sheepish and scared while waiting for your response.

“No, it actually makes me extremely happy. I have been in love with you since 2013.” Your confession makes the defender smile widely which you return, both of you in your own little circle. Her eyes switch between each of yours and down to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I will hit you if you don’t.”

Her fingers curl under your chin and pull you in, allowing your lips to finally touch. It feels like the movies where the girl kisses her one true love and her foot pops up in the middle of it. The butterflies in your stomach swarm like never before. Once you both pull back, your smiles never leave your faces. The comfortable silence between you two is interrupted by the newlyweds and your mother clapping and wooing.

You laugh into Ali’s neck while she chuckles and hugs your smaller form. She pecks your forehead and asks, “You wanna know what took me so long to get the drinks?”

“What?”

“The new bride and groom had a stern talk with me. They also knew about us not being a couple. Your family must be spies.”

Looking over her shoulder, you see the three wiggling their eyebrows and giving you a thumbs up, making you roll your eyes.

“Thanks to them, I can do this whenever I want now.”

You smash your lips against hers and hug your arms around her neck. Ali dips you down, causing you to squeal against her lips and her smile into it. She lifts you back up and hugs you.

“Can I take you on a date tomorrow?”

“You better.”

[aphroditeinthesea]

hey!! I was wondering if you could do a Poseidon fem reader x Jason Grace blurb or hcs about their relationship with each other, but she has a pet cat that she is obsessed with and Jason is just admiring the two while his gf is treating her cat like a baby and saying it our kid? If that makes sense??

“ with two cats in the yard (life used to be so hard) ”

jason grace x daughter of poseidon ⚡

a/n this is my favorite request i have ever gotten, whoever sent this in ilysm & ik u said blurb but i got carried away

tw none

. ݁₊ ⊹ 🐾 . ݁₊ ⊹

“Where’s the baby?” Y/N spoke right as Jason opened the door to his cabin.

He laughed, “she’s asleep,” he let her in, softly kissing her cheek as she entered.

He had been spending the past two days with y/n’s cat while she had to go on a quest.

She smiled as she softly brushed her index finger along the cat’s forehead, whispering, “mommy’s home.” The tabby let out a small noise while she opened her eyes. Just like an infant would, the cat reached up her front paws, leaning up on y/n.

She picked up the cat, who made herself comfortable on her owner’s shoulder, “did you miss me?”

“Are you asking me or her?” Jason remarked.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “maybe both.”

He grinned as he stepped closer to her, “I think I speak for both of us when I say, I missed you.”

She giggled, leaning up to kiss her boyfriend, “good, you know I was hoping you two would bond while I was gone.”

He gently petted the back of the cat, “yeah, we’re best friends now.”

Y/N held the cat in front of her to look at her face, “did you have fun with daddy?”

The boy choked on his spit, “daddy?”

“Yes, daddy,” she faced the cat towards him, “this is our daughter.”

He smiled, “I’d hope that our future kids have better names than Purrmaid.”

“Hey!” She pulled the cat away, “I named her when I had just gotten claimed,” she defended, “and that’s Madame Purrmaid of the Atlantic to you.”

“Oh gods, that’s even worse.”

“I was twelve!”

The cat meowed.

She handed Purrmaid to Jason, “tell her you’re sorry.”

He grabbed the cat, cradling her, “daddy’s sorry for making fun of your name.” He went to let her, but she swatted his hand, leaving a scratch.

“She’s mad at you.”

“She is not,” he went to pet her again, instead getting scratched once more, “she might be.” He placed her on the ground before she swatted one of his legs, “what did I do?!”

His girlfriend cackled, “she’s going through a phase.” He exaggeratedly frowned, she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, “it’s okay, I still love you.”

He held her waist, “promise?”

“Promise,” she reached up to kiss him again, “can I crash in your bed? I’m exhausted.”

“That’s what it’s there for,” he replied.

She sluggishly crawled under his covers. Purrmaid followed, laying on y/n’s chest.

Jason laid down next to the two, “is that comfortable?”

“I can’t breathe, but it’s okay.” She grabbed his hand, “you okay?”

“I’m fine, they’re small,” he comforted, “unlike Purrmaid.”

“You take that back!”

“I will once you stop feeding her your leftover lunch.”

“She gets hungry!”

“I don’t think cats are supposed to eat broccoli, my love.”

“Hmph,” she looked away for a second before turning back to the bright blue eyes, “we should get another one.”

He smiled, “you wanna?”

“We can get a boy, and you can name him!” She planned out.

“I won’t be naming him Thun-purr.”

“Aww, that’d be so cute though.”

“Fine,” he kissed her forehead, “I’ll name him whatever you want me to.”

“It’ll depend on what he looks like,” she replied, “because if it’s a tabby, he’ll be Harry, if he’s light, he’ll be Niall-”

“I take it back, you’re not naming him after One Direction.”

She lightly hit his shoulder, “I was joking, loser.”

“Sure, you were.”

“Seriously, what would you name a cat?” She softly questioned.

He sighed, “I’ve always kind of wanted to get a cat named, uh,” he hesitated, “don't make fun of me.”

“Babe, my cat is named Madame Purrmaid of the… I can't even finish.”

He chuckled, twirling his fingers in her hair, “fine, I wanted a cat to name Cannoli.”

She grinned, “that’s adorable!”

“Thanks,” he embarrassedly looked down while still smiling, “there used to be this bakery in New Rome where they had the world’s best cannolis and one time I saw this giant orange cat walking by it and I always thought that’s exactly the kind of cat I wanted.”

“Then you shall have your very own Cannoli,” she declared in a British accent, “I’ve actually never had a cannoli.” “Next time I head to New Rome, you're coming with me,” he smiled, “you and Purry.”

“Like that was a question,” she replied, petting the feline.

He breathily laughed, “do you want anything to eat?”

“I’m kinda craving a cannoli.”

“You’ve never had one,” he responded, confused.

“Yeah, but you love them so much, they must be good,” she added, “you have good taste.”

“I do?”

“You like me, I think that’s enough proof.”

“That’s a good point.”

She opened her arms, “come give mommy some sugar,” she said using a strange Boston accent.

“Y/N,” he rubbed his temples, “what are you talking about?”

“I don't know, I haven't slept in 20 hours.”

“Here,” he moved the blanket further over her and the cat, “get some sleep and I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”

She nodded as he began to walk away, “wait!”

He turned around, “yeah?”

“I love you.”

He grinned, he jogged back over to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Ahem?”

“Sorry,” he put his hand on Purrmaid, “love you, too.”

[shadamyheadcanons]

I can see Shadow being a girl dad, he'd be the type to pull out a gun whenever a adult gets too close to his kid but also be the one to dress up as a fairy princess for her tea party.

I’ve always loved this, too! Shadow just gets along super well with women and girls. I don’t know of any time when he’s had a proper conversation with Cream, but wholesome fanart of him babysitting her and wearing flower crowns she made for him is everywhere.

I interpret Shadow’s protectiveness in a specific way. He’d stand between his kids and a threat whenever necessary, especially when the kids are young, but I think he’d ultimately prioritize teaching them to defend against any threats themselves. I see him as less of a “mess with my kids and I’ll make you pay�� dad and more of an “if anyone messes with you, sweetheart, don’t hold back” dad. He doesn’t have to worry because he’s made sure they’ve got it covered. Every shadamy kid gets a gun, a hammer, or both, and his respect for women means he wouldn’t hesitate to arm them. None of this “girls are delicate flowers” nonsense from Shadow. Martial arts are on the table, too; with Amy, Shadow, Knuckles, and Rouge all being close by, she’d be a threat even without a weapon.

In all seriousness, he’d want to be absolutely sure the kid is battle-ready even when he’s not around because he knows better than anyone what the consequences could be otherwise. That’s one thing I think he’d love about Amy, too; he knows she’s made herself a contender in her own right, and they’ll both look out for the ones they love. Together. Battle Couple, Battle Family.

Toonsite has a couple really cute comics about Shadow babysitting Cream that fit this motif...

[x] [x]

...and ChocomilkAmy has a funny one with a shadamy fankid:

[x]

And although I love the idea of Shadow having a daughter, he’d of course love his kid regardless of gender. Which gives me an excuse to link Rhael’s wonderful, adorable little mini-comic of human!Shadow holding his newborn son:

[x]

I’m not crying, you’re crying :’)

And speaking of kids and family stuff...

@multishipingriy

I think Amy would be the one to ask for a first date, but Shadow would be the one to propose. Amy initiating the relationship matches her bold personality and lines up with my recent theory about their feelings. I also sometimes wonder if Shadow would be insecure about romance or feel she “deserved better,” so he’d hesitate to act first, but she’d break down those walls and pump up his self-esteem straight away. A few years in, he’d definitely have the confidence to propose. It’s not that Amy wouldn’t, but more that I feel she’d forever cherish a romantic proposal, and he’d want to do that for her. Shadow knows what he wants, and if that’s Amy, he’ll make it happen. Because they both deserve it.

The topic of children is one that I think is unique to their situation because Amy’s already made it clear she wants them, even this early in her life. Sonic Battle was particularly brazen about it...

(Sega made Cream a rabbit when they should have made her a GOAT.)

...but if that seems like too much because it is, I’ve organized this before, too:

Amy’s already nurturing. Once she gets older, I believe her existing behavior would bend in a more motherly direction, and it would be so clear that she wants to be a mom that she wouldn’t even need to formally clarify it. The onus would be on Shadow, I think, to speak up once he feels comfortable with the idea. I suggested some of his potential reservations in headcanon #167.

I think he’d be great at it. If you’re curious why I feel that way, check out my Father’s Day headcanon from a few years ago.

[ilikekidsshows]

After watching the latest seasons, I'll be honest: I don't think Marinette is that different from one of Adrien's crazy fans. I know the show wants us to believe she truly loves him for him, but they never really show this. Five seasons later, she still puts him high on her pedestal as the most perfect person ever, only gives reasons like he's nice and pretty for why she likes him, is openly annoyed with his other personality as Chat Noir, and doesn't think he's capable enough to make his own choices about his life and has to be coddled.

---

Yeah, like, the show insists they're made for each other and soulmates but, rather than give them fun chemistry like they had in the original seasons, they just have characters say Marinette's love for Adrien is totally different and more pure. The show, due to how badly its main romance is written, implying things like “Marinette objectifies Adrien but she does it out of love so that makes it okay!” are exactly why I’ve started viewing Adrinette as the “are the straights okay?” ship. The people defending what this ship has become say some absolutely bonkers stuff is what I'm saying.

A big underlying problem that causes this, even before the retool exacerbated it, is that Miraculous is both a love story and a wacky comedy. The Miraculous writers feel the need to focus on Marinette’s crush a lot, but also to include wacky comedy hijinks. Because of this, Marinette's love for Adrien gets played for wacky comedy hijinks more than it gets depicted actually seriously, so we can't take it seriously. When something can't be taken seriously, it comes across as really shallow.

Miraculous has a tone problem that’s only gotten worse the longer it's gone on. The same things get treated as sources of comedy that are also supposed to be the emotional core of the story, sometimes within the same episode. The series almost simultaneously expects the audience to laugh at the things that are also supposed to be the reason to even care about what happens. I’m surprised it isn't causing people emotional whiplash.

But, like, that's the problem with the writing being consistent about the wrong things. The elements that are supposed to be comedic are also present in scenes we’re supposed to take seriously. That’s how we get Marinette trying to defend Adrien against her grandmother simplifying him as just “pretty”, but Marinette can't come up with anything else about him she's attracted to. Is this supposed to be a hilarious joke? Like, are we supposed to laugh that Marinette can't tell her grandmother why she loves her boyfriend, the endgame romantic partner of this series?

Miraculous' idea of comedy and humor ruins its romance, and, when it's not the comedy, it's the cheap drama that makes Marinette look like a terrible human being when she's supposed to be an aspirational hero. It makes it hard to get invested in its main couple or sympathize with its main hero, the two things that are necessary to enjoy the story the writers want to tell. The fans have to be willing to do all the work and go “I can tell what the writers are trying to do, so I’ll do my best to view the story the way they want me to”, but, like, we can only tell what the writers are trying to do because we've seen better shows than Miraculous that do these things well. Why should Miraculous' writers get credit for not only being subpar, but failing so utterly they depict the opposite of what they intended? What good things have they actually given us that warrants this much leeway?

Especially when the small kids watching won't have a deeper understanding of genre conventions to tell them “the writers are trying to break conventions and aren't replacing them with sensical story decisions and that makes the story fail so much”, they can just see the bad morals and either reject or internalize what Abuse Apologia the Show is teaching them. And, like, considering how much abuse apologia this show’s and it's hero’s most insistent defenders are spouting, I’m not sure even all of the older kids or the adults in the audience can tell that this show's morals are rancid and should be rejected.

[diana-bluewolf]

Why NPC’s lines outside quests don’t tell us anything about them

*with rare exceptions

Here we have Duncan saying he'd like to get rid of Muggle-borns like Garlick. And, surprise, then we have Hector Fawley (future Minister for Magic, btw) saying exactly the same line in the same voice.

The subtitles are hard to read, so I duplicated them with text under pictures.

Duncan and Hector: "If only Black had the power to choose the other professors too. Then we could get rid of Muggle-born like Garlick."

Or here Duncan rants about disgusting Mudbloods ruining the school. But look at this adorable Hufflepuff repeating the same word for word.

Duncan and a random Hufflepuff student: "It’s about time Hogwarts put someone like Black in charge. Perhaps now we can stop all these disgusting Mudbloods from ruining the school."

Suddenly, Duncan forgets his own words and says he will miss Professor Garlick or recommends that Garreth ask her for advice.

Duncan: "I can’t wait until I’m a sixth-year - then I won’t have to waste my time with Herbology anymore. I’ll miss Professor Garlick, mind." Duncan: "I wouldn’t bother yourself about that. If I were you, I’d be more inclined to acquire myself some Bubotuber pus. I’m sure Garlick could point you in the right direction."

Garreth seems to have difficulties with making up his mind, too.

Garreth: "Have you been in any other common rooms? I'd love to know what it's like to be in another house - just for a day." Also Garreth: "Even if I knew how to get into the other common rooms, I wouldn't bother. There's a reason I was sorted into my house."

This does sound like Garreth. Until you hear the same from half of Hogwarts lots.

Garreth and a random Gryffindor student: "Sometimes I wish someone would Transfigure me into a squirrel. Then I wouldn't have to worry about doing schoolwork anymore."

The same goes for Leander. Btw, hello Mousey @sparxyv!

Leander: "You think Garreth Weasley would be better at Transfiguration considering his aunt teaches the thing."

I see sometimes people think Leander is a bully because he says some mean lines like the one when he's bragging about a knee-reversal hex he tried on a small Hufflepuff. But it's NOT his lines. It's just the lines that belong to everyone, which means they belong to no one.

I even made a video based on Ominis's lines like this.

Ominis: "Well, my father naturally assumed I'd be a strong Seeker, just like him. I say, thank Merlin Quidditch was cancelled." Ominis: "I met some of my best friends in Flying. Nothing creates a bond like thinking you're all about to die." Ominis: "My friends and I like to spend our evenings watching the sunset from the Quidditch pitch."

Btw maybe Quidditch Champions devs took it too seriously 😂 I agree with the point that Ominis technically can play Quidditch: there are, without a doubt, disabled athletes in the world, and if there’s a wand, that helps him to see why not imagine a broom like this? Still, given his personality, I believe that Ominis appeared in that game just to gather more money from fans, and he's just as a quidditch player, as Seb's patronus is a cat. Because, seriously, Ominis? Saying that, "Nothing creates a bond like thinking you're all about to die." Haha!

From what I can see, random student dialogues exist only to fill the silence with background noise and create the illusion of life, but they can't tell us anything about the characters.

*HOWEVER, this does not apply to situations where NPCs say something to MC, rather than during dialogues with random students.

For example, Ominis’s lines like, “Heard you're defending Hogsmeade against trolls. You know there is such a thing as trying too hard." or “Heard you and Sebastian traversed a mountain in Loyalist territory. You know, that sort of thing could have gotten you both killed.” really belong to our gossip king Ominis.

Or when MC walks past Amit near Hogshead before talking to Lodgok for the first time, Amit shouts greetings to MC.  Those are the lines that really were intended for those NPCs.

[im-out-of-it]

I’ll forever love that whole “IM IN LOVE WITH ALASTAIR CARSTAIRS AND IM GOING TO SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH HIM” moment

because Gideon is seriously like “I didn’t even think you liked Alastair, not much at least” because he’s actually genuinely confused 😭 he’s not being homophobic and he’s not angry but he’s like when did my son start liking this boy he previously hated? what am I missing here?????

and Eugenia is so protective of her brother that “if anyone condemns Thomas for who he is or who he loves, he and I will renounce the rest of you as my family”. she’s so proud of her brother and misguided as the attempt is, (I’m giving her all the points) she’s prepared to leave the family for him. like what a wonderful sister Eugenia is. she’s so underrated and we don’t get many moments with her 🥹

then Sophie is all “no one here is going to condemn Thomas” PROTECTING AND LOVING HER SON

and Gideon says no like the fuck Thomas, you think your father would be ashamed of you???? 💀

“Thomas, my darling, we love you and we want you to be happy. If Alastair makes you happy, then we are delighted. Although it would be nice if you introduced us. Perhaps you could bring him to dinner?” Sophie 😭

I do wish this scene was longer and we could’ve seen a whole chapter of the dinner and the lightwoods bonding but I will admit- I like this page. Eugenia and Thomas think their parents won’t accept Thomas being gay and they’re both just confused why Thomas never introduced Alastair lmao WE NEED AN AUTHENTIC PERSIAN DINNER PLEASE (I’d love to see Thomas cook for him)

in a way, I feel that Gideon secretly knew because what kind of man stalks someone to make sure they aren’t getting murdered and then when that person is accused of murder, they go and defend that person and say HEY HE KILLED NO ONE AND I KNOW BECAUSE I HAVE SECRETLY BEEN FOLLOWING HIM BUT JUST AS A FRIEND FOR MY SISTER NOOOOOO OTHER REASON

so I feel that Gideon just KNEW. but Gideon and Sophie are both confused because why haven’t you introduced us yet???????? WHY HAVENT WE HAD DINNER WITH HIM THOMAS? it’s just so cute and wholesome. Gideon is one of my favorite characters and he doesn’t get the treatment that he deserves so I feel robbed that we don’t get to see him parent all that much 🥹