#these just keep getting longer and longer wow

[purinfelix]

Franco Colapinto, where his girlfriend gets jealous of his interviews, so she does everything to make him jealous in return.

a taste of his own medicine ⋆.ೃ࿔*･- franco colapinto

summary: you've had enough of your boyfriend's shameless flirting during interviews, and hatch a plan to get back at him for it w/c : 1.3k

a/n: AAAA this is such a cute idea anon - i wrote a good chunk of this a while ago but only just finished the last bit today, thank u for the req and i hope u enjoy !! <333

You wondered if your boyfriend could feel the stone-cold glare you were giving the back of his head from your spot in the VIP lounge - though if he could, he surely wasn't doing anything about it.

Initially, there hadn't been any problems with keeping your relationship secret - in fact, it had been your idea for a number of reasons. You just didn't consider yourself ready to be swarmed and scrutinised by the media or have the title of 'F1 wag' bestowed upon you. It didn't feel right, if anything it felt like a disservice to boil down your relationship with Franco to something so sensationalized. Keeping it private seemed the best decision, at least for the time being. But now, the longer you watched your boyfriend shamelessly flirt with anyone who crossed his path, the more you grew to regret this decision.

You weren't by any means a jealous person by nature, but something about the fact that no one but you had any problem with this situation - and only because they didn't know about your relationship - irritated you. If only you could figure out a way to make Franco feel the same way you were. Just at that moment, as if by fate, you spotted a young-looking boy in a race suit walking casually past the lounge. His carefree walk, curly brown hair and boyish smile - bingo.

"Hey there," you called out, hopping up from the chair you were sitting in and walking over to the boy.

"Oh, hello," he replied, seemingly taken aback by being addressed by you.

"Sorry, it's just that I'm a little new to all of this and," you look him up and down, "you look like you know what you're doing, do you think you could show me around?"

He laughs shyly, hand rubbing the back of his nape. "Well, I mean, alright then, I'm Ollie by the way."

"Lovely to meet you, Ollie." You offer a girly giggle which you try your best not to cringe at as you follow the boy, who begins to walk around the nearest garage.

He begins to explain things, the process of getting ready to drive, the roles of different team members and the physics of the car itself - all of which you could care less about, but you nod earnestly regardless. Along the way, you even offer any mechanic or engineer who seems your age a friendly smile, and even a wink if they're particularly good-looking.

It's just your luck too that all of this is happening just close enough to the media hubs where your boyfriend has been stuck all afternoon. You try your best not to look too often over at him, not wanting to give away the true intentions of this mini tour you're scored for yourself. He doesn't seem to share the same sentiment though, based off of how many times you've caught him stealing glances at you, his eye following watchfully as you laugh and tease your impromptu tour guide.

"And so every element of car design has the purpose of making it as fast as possible, either through aerodynamics or by making everything lightweight," he continues to explain excitedly, and even though you're starting to feel dizzy from all the nodding you give him a quick one.

"Oh, wow!" You say, and before you know it you've landed yourself in the perfect position - within both earshot and line of vision of your boyfriend who seems to be wrapping up one of his last interviews for the night. Now, for the cherry on top.

You watch as Franco finishes saying his goodbyes to the last of the media crew, his eyes now searching the paddock for you. Knowing that he's looking at you, you throw your head back in laughter at nothing in particular and bring a hand up to graze Ollie's upper arm. Though you have his back to him you know your boyfriend well enough that when you feel a hand on your own shoulder mere seconds later, you aren't too shocked.

"Oh, hello Franco," you hum, feigning innocence. "Ollie here was just showing me around and keeping me company, isn't he the sweetest?"

"Very sweet." He grins through gritted teeth, though his strengthening grip on your shoulder says otherwise.

"No problem, oh but hey I forgot to show you just one more th-"

"Thanks, kid, but my girlfriend and I have got to get going."

Trying not to make it too obvious on your face how pleased you were that your plan had worked, you thanked Ollie once more before you felt Franco's grip sliding down your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours. Desperately, he dragged you off and away from your tour guide - who had a slightly confused expression painted on his face as he watched the two of you disappear into the Williams garage. You were amazed by how quickly your boyfriend was walking as he pulled you into his driver's room, shutting the door behind you quickly.

"What was that?" he huffed immediately, not giving you a second to say anything. You only smiled in response, watching his normally calm expression morph into one of frustrated confusion.

"I told you, Ollie was showing me around, you were busy with your interviews anyways," you decide to keep up the act of innocence, though you can tell he's not buying it.

"Bullshit, what sort of showing around involves touching him."

"I didn't think you were watching, those reporters seemed to keep you pretty occupied," you say in a sing-songy tone, throwing yourself down on the couch in his room. You wait for him to respond - something equally sarcastic or quippy, but when you turn to look at him you see him staring at the wall in front of him, eyes furrowed in confusion. Slowly, the cogs in his mind seem to start working as his expression slowly changes into one of realisation.

"You were jealous," he breathes out, turning to you with eyes wide and brows raised.

"Oh pfft- I wouldn't say jealous, bored now that might be more accurate but-" You're interrupted by him taking a seat on the couch next to you, face now painted with a smug look.

"You didn't like that I was talking to so many reporters, did you?" His teasing tone is enough to make your heart race a little, though you try your best to keep calm.

"I'm pretty sure you were doing a little more than talking babe, you were flirting!"

He looks at you with a slightly offended expression, "flirting?" It's almost as if he's just realising what he was doing.

"Uhm, duh."

"Did it really look like that?" His brows curve up into a pleading expression, "I didn't mean to, I swear!" You let out a soft chuckle watching his apologetic expression.

"It's fine baby, just try to be a little less friendly next time - I think your PR team would appreciate it anyway." He nods, scooting a little closer so that he can lay his head on your shoulder. There's a beat of silence before he speaks again.

"You were jealous," he hums, almost as if he's talking to himself.

"Wh- so were you! Poor Ollie is probably terrified of you now!"

"Whatever, he's a big boy, he'll live," he sighs, reaching for your hand and intertwining it in his "Plus, don't act like you're any better using that kid to get back at me."

"Hey, I had to do something before you walked out of that media room with a second girlfriend," you crossed your arms in annoyance, refusing to even look at him.

"You're cute when you're jealous," he laughs, before turning to peck at your jawline. Before you can stop you're melting into his touch, bringing a hand up to brush his curly hair away from his face. It might be a weak apology to some, but to you - to be here with him, in the privacy of his driver's room, away from Ollie, the reporters, and the rest of the world - it's more than enough.

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk

[jmkjournalblog]

Dark library

Pairings: Wednesday x F!Reader

Summary: When Wednesday needs help retrieving a forbidden book from the library's restricted section, she enlists Y/n for a midnight mission. Things take an unexpected turn.

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes:/

The night was quiet, save for the rustling leaves and the faint chirp of crickets outside Nevermore’s tall, gothic windows. Y/n lounged in the common room, her gaze focused on the faint shadows that danced on the ceiling, when Wednesday’s familiar, quiet footsteps echoed from the hall.

“There you are,” Wednesday said, her voice as steady as ever, but her eyes held a glint of urgency. “I need you for something.”

Y/n’s lips curled into a grin. “You sure you don’t just want me for something?” she teased, standing up and brushing the dust from her jacket. She let her gaze linger on Wednesday a little longer than necessary, just to enjoy the way Wednesday’s expression barely shifted.

“Hardly,” Wednesday replied, unfazed. “I need a book from the restricted section of the library. It contains records on past incidents at Nevermore that could prove useful to my current investigation. You’ll help me retrieve it.”

“Wow, how romantic.” Y/n smirked, leaning closer to her. “Most people would settle for dinner before dragging me into a dark library at night, but I guess this works too.”

Wednesday gave her a sidelong look. “If you’re quite finished with your verbal theatrics…”

Y/n chuckled and threw up her hands. “Alright, alright, lead the way. You know I love a good thrill.” She winked and followed Wednesday out into the corridor.

They moved quietly through the shadowed halls, Wednesday’s gaze sharp and alert, Y/n walking beside her with an easy confidence. She kept glancing at Wednesday, amused by her serious focus.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re looking for an excuse to spend time with me,” Y/n whispered, grinning.

Wednesday shot her a glare. “If I were, you’d be the last to know.”

“Ouch.” Y/n held a hand to her chest, feigning injury. “You wound me, Addams. But hey, if it gets me a midnight adventure with you, I’ll take it.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but a tiny smirk slipped through. She paused at the corner leading to the library doors, turning to Y/n. “You’ll need to keep quiet once we’re inside,” she instructed, her voice a low whisper. “The restricted section is guarded by a sensor. The last thing we need is for someone to come investigating.”

Y/n’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, I’ll be as quiet as a grave.” She tilted her head, watching Wednesday with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Although if we do get caught, I’d be more than happy to take the fall for you. I’ll tell them I couldn’t resist the thrill of sneaking into a dark library with Nevermore’s finest.”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused. “You’re insufferable.”

“Admit it, you love it.” Y/n winked and gestured for her to lead the way.

Wednesday pushed the heavy door open just enough for them to slip inside. The library was vast and dimly lit, rows of ancient bookshelves stretching up into shadows. The restricted section was tucked away at the back, behind a wrought-iron gate marked “Authorized Personnel Only.” Wednesday stepped confidently through the aisles, with Y/n right beside her, her eyes darting around as if savoring the thrill of breaking the rules.

“Tell me, Wednesday,” Y/n murmured, her voice soft yet playful in the quiet. “Why risk getting caught? What’s so special about this book?”

“It contains details of past incidents that were erased from the school records,” Wednesday replied, her tone as steady as ever. “Disturbances that the administration deemed too dangerous for the general student body to know about.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, leaning in. “Dangerous, huh? You know how to pick a page-turner. I’m intrigued.”

“Good,” Wednesday replied without a hint of a smile, moving ahead and scanning the shelves with a precise gaze. She motioned to a shelf near the top, where a dusty, ancient-looking book was wedged between two thick tomes. “That’s the one.”

Y/n gave a mock sigh, looking up at the book. “Conveniently placed just out of reach. I don’t suppose you’d let me lift you up there, would you?”

Wednesday’s lips pressed together, giving Y/n a deadpan look. “I’ll pass. I trust you’re capable of retrieving it yourself.”

With a grin, Y/n reached up, stretching to grasp the spine of the book, which was heavier than it looked. She handed it down to Wednesday, who began inspecting the cover with fascination.

“Can’t wait to see what secrets you find in there,” Y/n whispered, leaning close enough for her shoulder to brush against Wednesday’s.

Wednesday glanced sideways at her. “Stay focused. We’re not out of here yet.”

But as if on cue, the sound of footsteps approached. A flashlight beam cut through the darkness, and the library door creaked open. Wednesday’s eyes widened slightly, recognizing the telltale click of Thornhill’s heels echoing through the library.

“Perfect timing,” Y/n muttered, her voice tense but tinged with amusement. “I guess we didn’t make it out in time.”

Wednesday looked around quickly, her gaze steely. “We can’t let her see us with this book. Hide it, quickly.”

Y/n’s mind raced, and then, in a flash of reckless inspiration, she slid the book beneath her jacket and turned to Wednesday with a glint in her eye.

“Trust me,” she whispered. And before Wednesday could protest, Y/n stepped in close, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss.

For a second, Wednesday went completely still, her dark eyes wide in shock. But then, against all reason, she let herself fall into it, her lips pressing back with an intensity that surprised them both. Y/n’s fingers traced along Wednesday’s jaw, tilting her head gently as they moved even closer. It was magnetic, a stolen moment hidden in the shadows—and as the flashlight swept over them, Thornhill stopped, her silhouette freezing in the doorway.

The teacher cleared her throat, and Y/n reluctantly broke the kiss, glancing over with a look of feigned guilt. “Oh, Miss Thornhill,” she said, trying not to laugh. “I—I didn’t think anyone would be here at this hour…”

Thornhill sighed, her face unreadable in the dim light. “The library is closed. You know the rules. Both of you, out. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Y/n said, reaching for Wednesday’s hand and pulling her quickly toward the door. As soon as they were out of Thornhill’s sight, she burst into quiet laughter, the thrill of the moment still making her pulse race.

“Well, that was one way to keep us from getting caught,” Wednesday muttered, eyeing her with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

Y/n smirked, her voice low and teasing. “Admit it, you didn’t hate it.”

Y/n still had that mischievous glint in her eye as they hurried down the hall, her fingers entwined with Wednesday’s for a moment longer than necessary before she let go. The book was still safely tucked under her jacket, but all she could think about was the kiss. She couldn’t help but glance over at Wednesday, her smirk deepening when she noticed a slight flush on Wednesday’s usually unflappable face.

“Looks like I’ve found a new way to keep you quiet,” Y/n murmured, teasing.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Enjoy your moment of amusement while it lasts. Next time, there are far less…invasive ways to avoid getting caught.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Y/n whispered, her voice soft and dangerous. But before Wednesday could respond, they turned the corner into the common room, where Enid and Yoko sat on the couch, deep in conversation. Both girls looked up as they entered, their expressions quickly turning to curiosity as they took in Y/n’s and Wednesday’s flushed faces.

“Um…what exactly were you two doing?” Enid asked, eyebrows raised as she took in the sight of the two slightly disheveled girls.

Yoko smirked, her red-tinted glasses slipping down her nose as she eyed them. “Yeah, you two look…intense.”

Y/n, still slightly out of breath, let out a laugh, shrugging her jacket to adjust the hidden book and stretching her arms over her head with an easy, casual confidence. “Oh, you know, just breaking into the library, dodging Thornhill, making out in the shadows…” She shot Wednesday a teasing glance, savoring the way Wednesday’s expression stayed carefully neutral.

Enid’s jaw dropped, her eyes going wide as she looked between the two of them. “Wait—what? You’re kidding, right? Y/n, please tell me you’re joking.”

Yoko chuckled, clearly amused. “Oh, I’d believe it. They’ve got that ‘just made out and got away with it’ look.”

Wednesday, finally breaking her silence, fixed them both with her signature deadpan stare. “Believe what you want. Y/n has a…vivid imagination.”

“Oh, come on, Wednesday, don’t be modest,” Y/n interrupted, grinning. She leaned casually against the wall, looking perfectly unbothered by their friends’ disbelief. “I think Enid just doesn’t want to believe her best friend is such a good kisser.”

Enid blushed, clearly flustered, and Yoko snickered. “I’m calling it—Y/n’s telling the truth.”

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes catching Wednesday’s in a playful, lingering stare. “Guess it’ll just stay between the two of us, then.” And with a satisfied grin, she strolled to her room, leaving Wednesday, Enid, and Yoko to process what exactly had happened.

[flightyalrighty]

Crazy to me that people follow you for a horror comic then get upset with you when it’s a horror comic.

Killing children in horror is a well regarded theme in horror. It’s not “wow it’s so cool when kids die” but the fact that the story addresses vulnerability and the narrative purpose that serves. Like I can vaguely understand why people would be so shocked to see a well beloved character die, but y’all signed up for that when reading a HORROR comic.

Anyways as someone who is just starting to get into making horror comics I deeply deeply admire your work here. You’ve been doing an amazing job at building suspense especially with traditional webcomic style of page-by-page release. Keep it up, I hope you are having as much fun making this story as it’s been to read :D

Thanks so much for this ask, and for reading Infested! I'm wishing you, as well, absolute best of luck and much glee in the creation of your own horror comics! It's one heckavuh ride, making comics, that's for sure, but even if not every part of the process appeals to you, the end result will always be worth it. Longer stuff ahead.

As one person in the Infested Discord pointed out, I can't understand people (there have been three so far) griping about Tails being killed for the narrative when Maria, who is also very much a child who was murdered for the narrative, exists in a game that isn't labeled "horror."

Do these same people have a problem with that? Do they angrily write to Sonic Team about it, claiming the E10+ rating for "mild cartoon violence" was not enough of a warning? Or do they let that slide because Maria's death is integral to the story of Sonic Adventure 2, and to Shadow's character arc. As if Tails's death doesn't fill a similarly important role in Infested.

I seem to not be allowed a bit of trust that I know what I'm doing by killing Tails. It's treated like a mistake. That last person called it a "plot hole" (???), sharing a similar sentiment with someone else on Twitter that felt that Tails was simply too smart to die. Whatever that means. Never once do these folks consider that it is IMMENSELY important for this story that Tails dies, and does so in the way that he does. I can't simply change who dies, because who dies is deeply important to the soul of Infested. To the point of it. It, and it's sequel.

Yes, Tails's death is just as important to the sequel.

The story isn't over yet, and the means in which that event played out haven't been revealed. As many obnoxious people have already said many times before me; Patience is a virtue.

[thescarletnargacuga]

AVIATION ENTHUSIAST

A TIME CAPSULE AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

Caine geeks over airplanes, Pomni finds it informative and adorable

AU credit @mangotangerinepastry @the-amazing-digital-time-capsule

WARNING: none

~~~

In the late evening hours, long after the guests had gone for the day, Caine sat at the grand piano backstage. The large wooden cover for the keys was down, as he wasn't planning on playing it tonight. Instead, multiple model WW1 era airplanes sat the length of the piano like it was a runway. Small jars of paint and tiny brushes sat on a messy rag draped over the closed top of the piano.

Caine dipped one of his fine bristled brushes into the red paint to work on the detail of the biplane he held delicately in his hand. Light splotches of paint stained his gloves. He hummed to himself as he worked.

"Keep the home fires burning...while your hearts are yearning..." He finished the fine detail on his freshly painted plane and carefully set it down to let it dry. "Though your lads are far away...they dream of home..." He cleaned off his brush and grabbed a plane that was barren of any paint. With a new, larger brush, he started applying the base coat. "There's a silver lining... through the dark cloud shining..." He was so focused on his work, he didn't see Pomni out of the corner of his eye. "Turn the dark could inside out, till the boys coooome hoooome."

Pomni quietly approached and sat on the piano bench next to Caine. Caine paused what he was doing for half a second, impressed he didn't hear her get close until she was sitting down. "What are you doing up so late?" He asked without looking up.

"I don't really know. Just one of those nights." Pomni sighed, overlooking the display of model aircraft. "You made these?"

"Yep. Built and painted every one of them. Please don't touch, they're delicate."

Pomni put her outstretched hand in her lap bashfully. "I wasn't gonna-"

Caine sent her a strong side eye.

"I wasn't." Pomni reaffirmed with a defiant pout.

Caine didn't fight the small smile her adorable reaction gave him, and went back to focusing on painting the model in his hand.

Pomni kept her hands firmly in her lap as she took close looks at the impressively detailed airplanes. "What's this one?" She pointed to a sleek, steel grey sesquiplane.

Caine only glanced briefly to see which one she was referring to. "The Nieuport 17. One of the most agile planes of its time. It could outmaneuver the German eindeckers with a climbing speed of over 113 mph."

"Wow, very impressive." Pomni smirked at his info dumping. "What about this one?" She pointed to a bright blue plane with three sets of wings stacked on top of each other.

Caine looked away from his work a bit longer this time. "Uh, that is a Sopwith Triplane. Also known as Tripes, only 160 were ever made and exclusively for the British Royal Navy. Don't let their weird design fool you, they were exceptionally maneuverable and packed serious heat with a Vickers .303 machine gun mounted behind the propeller."

"Cool. Oh! What about this one? I really like the paint job." Pomni excitedly pointed to a grey-green biplane with a black lightning-shaped arrow painted on the sides.

Caine set down his paintbrush to pick up the chosen plane. "One of my personal favorites, the Albatross D.VA. They were the first fighters powered by 160-hp Mercedes in-line engines which gave them the power to carry two 7.92mm synchronized machine guns. These proved superior to all other Western Front one-gun fighters. They were sent first to specialized squadrons of one-seat scout fighters that were established to achieve local battlefield air superiority. A real shame these marvels of engineering were mainly used by the Germans."

Pomni smiled at how relaxed and open Caine seemed to be while talking about the airplanes in his collection. She wasn't looking at the Ringmaster. She was looking at a man passionate about a hobby. He made these little models feel like real replicas of epic aerial combatants.

Caine noticed how Pomni was looking at him and stopped talking. "Uh- not that, uh, any of this is particularly relevant. Heh." He nervously looked away and set the Albatross down. "Never mind my rambling."

"I don't mind. This is fascinating stuff. I never knew you knew so much about early 1900s aerospace technology, and...I like hearing you talk." Pomni admitted, fiddling with her thumbs.

Caine could swear his heart skipped a beat. "You...do?"

Pomni blushed and quickly pointed to the unfinished plane in Caine's hand. "What'sthatone?" She said so quickly, she was nearly incomprehensible.

"Oh-" Caine cleared his throat, feeling a little warm under the collar. "This is a Fokker."

Pomni did a mental double take. "A what now?"

"I swear, that's its real name. There were quite a few different types of Fokkers, actually. The V38, the E.V. and D.V. series, the eindeckers, and the drideckers. Just to name a few." Caine held up the unfinished model. "This one is an original model Fokker."

"Sounds like the first world war was full of Fokkers." Pomni said with a crooked smile.

Caine saw the joke coming a mile away, but it was still funny. He chuckled, "That it was, my dear. That it was."

[bunnihearted]

🐁☁️🌫️

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

The sleepover scene always breaks my heart 😭 literally me at 12

[hyrulesfav]

♟️🐈‍⬛ is so perfect to me because they just. Get. each other. also they come into the relationship with kids who aren't their kids but one of them is basically their kid so they fall asleep watching bluey or blues clues a lot

[queenerdloser]

me, rereading several of my half-finished oneshots and drafts: huh i love this. damn i'm a good writer. man, i want to read more of this.

me, remembering i have to sit down to write to finish these fics: ah

[todayisafridaynight]

One of my fave jackets is this green jacket with a fur hood im wearin rn because 1.) its green 2.) my dad gave it to me 3.) it reminds me of saejima. Who also reminds me of my dad

[sleepymrshmllow]

blissfully ignores the harsh criticisms of s2/the finale 🥰

[skrunksthatwunk]

wip as an excuse to show her off because she's cute to me but also so i can rant in the tags about The Malfunctions I Am Experiencing During This Piece

[get-more-bald]

being an engie main must be a really thankless job. like. damn. you guys live like this? I'm so sorry. lets all love you more

[gideonisms]

burnout is supposed to end at some point, I have read this. However, how do you know when it has ended and you should gradually force yourself through more activities to get used to living a life again, and when doing that will send you Directly back to an even worse ring of hell. Is there like a guidebook or

[zyanova]

Hi, I finally finished this.

Bonus:

[dutybcrne]

Love the idea of Kae getting used to eating consistent meals bc of a significant other or even a friend who made it a point to always eat with him to ensure he doesn't forget, and even gaining a little weight as a result, even with his metabolism.

[whentherewerebicycles]

also i have probably said this before but i think faculty need to stop telling students that they shouldn’t go to graduate school. yes students should have the information they need to make the decision (including info about the low stipends, the not-so-great culture of many graduate programs, the vanishingly small number of stable academic jobs, etc). but i’ve always felt like some students are going to hear that and think “well, it won’t be me, i’ll work hard and beat the odds!” (typically your well-off students who have a lot of social & navigational capital and an assured sense of belonging in higher ed spaces), while other students are going to hear it and think “i wonder if they’re just saying that because they think i’m not cut out for graduate study.”