#this has nothing to do with actual jungles

[tetragonia]

A True Love's Kiss

Itadori Yuji x Megumi Fushiguro x Nobara Kugisaki x GN!Reader

summary: The first-years—meaning you, Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi—were in deep trouble because a mission had gone wrong. Gojo had told you to exorcise a Grade 2 curse just outside town, but it didn’t end well. The cursed spirit was exorcised, yes, but before it vanished, it left behind one last curse—a curse that could only be broken by a true love’s kiss. Now, the four of you were contemplating how to break it.

notes: uhhh this is just a silly idea lol. also you're welcome to check another silly fic of mine! here -> JJK fic @ AO3!! enjoy!

words: 2.3k

The mission was supposed to be simple. A grade 2 cursed spirit lurking in an abandoned park—nothing they couldn’t handle. They had faced far worse. So when Megumi, Nobara, Yuji, and you cornered the thing near the rusted remains of a jungle gym, they thought it was over.

Then it cursed them.

"What the hell did it just do?" Nobara asked, rubbing her temples. The spirit had let out this ghastly, wailing screech, and suddenly, an invisible force had passed through them like a gust of wind. The air shimmered, reality bending for just a moment—and then everything felt wrong.

Megumi was the first to feel it.

"Shit," he hissed, clutching his head. His body felt heavy, like he was being dragged down by unseen chains. His limbs were sluggish, his vision slightly blurred.

Yuji groaned, stretching his arms, "Ugh. Why do I feel like I just pulled an all-nighter and got hit by a truck?"

You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the odd, sinking sensation, "I feel like I’m about to pass out."

"Great. We’re cursed," Nobara, ever the practical one, clicked her tongue. She sighed as she walked away, but she was yanked back. The veil wasn’t lifted yet, but she couldn’t step farther.

“What the hell?” Yuji frowned, as he tried to walk away. But he ended up just like Nobara, it was like there was a giant transparent wall surrounding them.

The spirit laughed, its grotesque mouth curling into a smirk as it started to fade away.

“People can come… but they may not go…” its voice was disgustingly teasing.

“Oh, come on!” you frowned, looking at the spirit’s half-transparent body.

“True love’s kiss… breaks the spell…” it rasped mockingly, before disappearing completely.

Silence.

Dead silence.

You all stood frozen, the cursed spirit’s words settling in like an earthquake cracking through their collective sanity.

Then—

"I’m sorry, WHAT?" Nobara shrieked.

"Did it just say—" Yuji coughed, couldn't believe what he heard.

"Nope. Nope. I refuse," Megumi immediately rejected whatever was about to be suggested.

"You can’t reject it, Megumi, we’re literally cursed!" Nobara snapped.

"True love’s kiss?" you repeated, staring up at the sky like you were having a crisis. "You mean like… fairy tales?"

Yuji, looking both horrified and oddly amused, hesitated, "So… one of us has to… kiss someone?"

Megumi closed his eyes, "I hate this."

"We all hate this!" Nobara shouted. "But if that thing wasn’t lying, then we’re stuck like this until someone kisses their so-called ‘true love’!"

You blinked. Then you squinted.

"Wait. How does it even know what ‘true love’ is?"

"That’s actually a good question," Yuji raised a finger.

"I don’t care! I feel like my soul is rotting inside my body, so someone better start smooching!" Nobara groaned, dragging her hands down her face.

Megumi, in full maximum suffering mode, looked like he was debating whether to just let the curse kill him.

"Absolutely not."

Yuji scratched the back of his head. "Okay, okay, let’s just—hypothetically speaking!—figure this out logically."

"There is no logical way to figure this out!" Megumi snapped.

"Sure there is!" Yuji insisted. "Like… okay, who here has a crush on someone?"

Silence.

Megumi’s eye twitched. Nobara crossed her arms, looking at the others expectantly. You just blinked at Yuji like he was insane. Yuji sighed.

"Okay, fine. Let’s just try kissing someone at random."

"Do you hear yourself?" Megumi asked, voice flat with horror.

You, ever the agent of chaos, suddenly smirked, "Alright, Fushiguro, pucker up."

Megumi stared at you like you had just committed a war crime.

Nobara cackled, grinning wickedly, "Ohhh, yeah, Fushiguro! If it works, then—"

"Over my dead body!" Megumi immediately shut it down.

Yuji, bless his soul, was actually considering it.

"I mean, (Y/N), have you guys ever—"

"Shut up, Itadori!" Megumi barked, palms slamming the table. You snorted.

"Wow, so aggressive. If you keep glaring at me like that, I might actually fall in love."

Megumi looked like he was about to throw himself into traffic.

"Okay!" Nobara interrupted, clapping her hands. "Let’s just get this over with! I’m not sitting here feeling like my soul is corroding. If none of us are romantically interested in each other, then we just gotta go for it."

You exhaled, "I hate that I agree.

Yuji nodded, reluctant but determined, "Alright. Let’s try."

They all looked at each other. Then they realized something.

"Wait," you said, squinting. "There are four of us. What if this curse is, like, super specific and only works for one pair?"

A pause. A horrible pause.

Then Nobara paled, "Oh my god. What if we have to do trial and error?"

Megumi made a sound that was either a groan or the death rattle of his last brain cell. Yuji exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples.

"Okay, okay, we just gotta get this over with. It’s not a big deal, right?"

"It is absolutely a big deal," Megumi’s jaw tightened.

You stretched your arms lazily, "We could just let the curse kill us. Sounds easier than dealing with this."

"Nope!" Nobara shot down that idea immediately, jabbing a finger at your chest. "No one is dying because you’re all too emotionally constipated to kiss someone!"

"Why are we even debating this? It’s simple. If true love’s kiss is the requirement, then it’s already impossible,” Megumi ran a hand down his face.

"Why?" Yuji frowned. Megumi gave him a look.

"Because that means someone here has to be in love with someone else here. And that’s—"

A terrible silence. You blinked, then smirked, "Fushiguro, do you have something to confess?"

Megumi's eye twitched violently, "I swear to—"

"Enough," Nobara clapped her hands. "We’re gonna be scientific about this."

Yuji raised a brow and tilted his head, he looked like a lost puppy, "Scientific?"

Nobara ignored him, rolling up her sleeves.

"We’re going to test every possible combination. First up—Yuji, (Y/N), kiss."

You and Yuji froze.

"Wait, wait, why are we first?!" Yuji panicked.

"Because you’re both dumbasses, and dumbasses should get it over with quickly!"

"That doesn’t even make sense!"

You, still smirking, shrugged, "Alright, alright, let’s get this over with, Itadori. Don’t fall in love with me."

"I—I—don’t phrase it like that!" Yuji made a horrible strangled noise. Nobara grabbed Yuji by the back of his jacket and practically shoved him forward.

"Just do it, I want to go home."

"I—I CAN’T JUST—(Y/N), HELP—" Yuji sputtered.

You, not one to back down from a challenge, grabbed Yuji’s face with both hands, "Shhh, just close your eyes, darling."

"WHAT THE HELL, (Y/N)—"

And then you pecked him right on the lips. The room held its breath. A beat passed.

Two.

Three.

Nothing happened.

Yuji slowly opened one eye, blushing like an idiot, "Did it work?"

"Nope," you popped your lips. "That was a waste."

Yuji, still dazed, touched his mouth, "Huh. That was my first kiss."

"This is the worst mission I’ve ever been on," Megumi groaned into his hands.

"Alright, next pair!"Nobara sighed.

"Oh, let’s do Fushiguro and Itadori next,” you perked up. Megumi snapped his head up.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT."

"I second that!" Yuji held up his hands.

"Cowards,” you shrugged.

Megumi glared daggers, "(Y/N), why are you enjoying this?"

"Because this is the dumbest thing we’ve ever had to do, and I live for chaos."

Yuji wiped his mouth, still recovering, "Can we at least try people who might actually work? Like, Fushiguro, you and Kugisaki—"

Nobara gagged, "I’d rather fight Sukuna one-on-one."

"What the hell?!" Megumi looked genuinely offended.

"Not my fault you have the romantic appeal of a cactus."

"Then you and (Y/N) can go next,” Megumi looked ready to commit murder.

You and Nobara made eye contact. You nodded, "Sure, why not?"

Nobara shrugged, "Whatever."

Yuji’s jaw dropped, "Wait, why are you two so chill about it?!"

Nobara rolled her eyes.

"Because we’re not insecure little boys, Itadori. Pucker up, (Y/N)."

"Try not to fall for me," you smirked. And just like that, you kissed Nobara, and she kissed you back.

A pause.

Nothing happened.

Nobara clicked her tongue.

"Lame."

"Wow, no true love between us? I’m heartbroken,” you sighed dramatically.

“Oh, come on. This is stupid,” Nobara huffed as she turned to Yuji. “Oi. Let’s get this over with.”

“Huh?” Yuji blinked.

“You. Me. Let’s kiss.”

“Ooooh,” you whistled at her firm and commanding voice. Megumi rolled his eyes.

“Can we just hurry up and break this already?”

“Uh, alright. But if this doesn’t work, you owe me ten onigiri,” Yuji, still processing, scratched the back of his head.

“You really think this is a fair bet?” Nobara narrowed her eyes.

“Hey, food is food!” Yuji just shrugged.

Nobara sighed sharply, grabbed his collar, and kissed him. A beat of silence. Everyone stared.

The curse did not break.

Yuji pulled back, smacking his lips together, “Huh.”

Nobara frowned, eyes darting around her own body like she expected something to change, “Seriously?”

You snorted, “Damn, Kugisaki. Guess you’re not Itadori’s true love.”

“Gross. That was a waste of time,” Nobara wiped her lips on her sleeve.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘gross’? I brushed my teeth today!” Yuji looked genuinely offended.

“Oh, congrats. You’re so hygienic.”

"More hygienic than you—”

Megumi groaned, “We don’t have time for this. Just go down the list already.”

“Man, you make it sound like we’re checking homework,” Yuji shuddered. "Alright, Fushiguro, pucker up."

Yuji cracked his knuckles, stepping forward. Megumi's entire soul left his body.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, we don’t have all day," Yuji pointed at himself. "I'm true. I got love. So let's do this, man."

Megumi took an instinctive step back, "I think I'd rather die."

"Wow. Wow. That is so messed up," Yuji gasped, looking genuinely offended.

"It's not that I—" Megumi massaged his temples. "I just—maybe I should kiss (Y/N) first.”

The moment he said it, he knew he had made a mistake. Yuji froze. Then, very slowly, his eye twitched.

"You wanna kiss (Y/N) first?" he repeated.

Megumi winced, "I just meant—"

"OH, I SEE HOW IT IS."

Yuji grabbed Megumi’s collar, yanking him forward, "So you'd rather have your first kiss with (Y/N) than me? Your best buddy?"

Megumi sputtered, "Why are you making this about you?!"

"BECAUSE I AM OFFENDED!" Yuji yelled, shaking him. "We've been through so much together! And you'd rather kiss (Y/N)?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!"

"That’s not—" Megumi tried to pry Yuji’s hands off, but Yuji had freakish strength. "I just—logically—"

"LOGICALLY, YOU SHOULD JUST LET ME KISS YOU!"

"THAT'S NOT LOGIC, ITADORI, THAT'S JUST YOU WANTING TO KISS ME—"

"AND WHAT IF I DO?! WHAT THEN?!"

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

Meanwhile, you and Nobara were wheezing. Nobara had collapsed onto your shoulder, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

"Oh my god," Nobara gasped, gripping your sleeve. "This is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

You grinned at the view, eyes gleaming. "Do you think if I say ‘just kiss already,’ they’ll actually do it?"

"Try it."

"Hey, ItaFushi," you called, grinning. "Just kiss already."

"SHUT UP!"

"NOT HELPING!"

Megumi, still half-dangling from Yuji’s grip, groaned, "This is stupid. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever been a part of."

"We both know that’s not true,” Yuji snorted.

"Fair," Megumi looked neutral for a second, but he continued fuming. “But can we wait for help?!”

He wasn’t the one to call for help, he was always the one helping. But this whole situation? Nope.

Yuji, deep in thought, snapped his fingers, "What if we call Gojo?"

Megumi turned to Yuji so fast his neck nearly snapped.

"WHAT?!"

"Oh my god, imagine if Gojo was Megumi’s true love!” you cackled.

Nobara wiped away a tear, "We’d never let him live it down."

Yuji, very serious, pulled out his phone, "Okay, I’m calling him."

Megumi grabbed Yuji’s wrist in a death grip.

"Itadori. I swear. If you call him, I will summon my shikigami and make them maul you."

Yuji gulped.

"Okay. Okay. No Gojo. Got it."

“No me?”

A voice chimed in as its owner walked innocently through the transparent wall. Gojo squatted down, grinning, "What the hell happened to you guys? Why does it took so long?"

Four pair of eyes widened, three from shocks and one from an instant death.

Megumi sighed as he just signed a contract to his own death, "Curse. Wouldn’t break. Stupid condition."

"Huh? What kind of curse?" Gojo raised a brow.

"True love’s kiss."

Gojo froze hearing Yuji’s answer. And then he grinned.

"Oh?" he said, far too delighted. "And? Did you figure it out?"

Nobara grumbled something obscene. You just snorted. Gojo chuckled hearing all the responses, "So that’s a no, huh?"

Then, without missing a beat, he reached out—and kissed Megumi’s forehead.

A soft glow flickered over Megumi’s body, and passed through Yuji, Nobara, you, and eventually the transparent wall surrounding them.

And just like that—the curse lifted.

Silence.

Utter, complete silence.

Yuji slowly lifted his head. Nobara looked up so fast her neck nearly snapped. You blinked blearily at the scene.

Megumi sat there, completely frozen.

Gojo, still grinning, gave him a light pat on the head, "See? Was that so hard?"

"Holy shit," you covered your mouth with your hand.

"It was Gojo-sensei?!" Yuji looked horrified. "All along?"

"YOU MEAN WE WENT THROUGH ALL THAT FOR NOTHING?!" Nobara screeched.

Megumi looked like he was experiencing all seven stages of grief at once while Gojo stood up casually, stretching.

"Man, this brings back memories! I used to do that to you all the time when you were little, Megumi."

Megumi finally snapped out of it, "DON’T SAY THAT."

You, grinning like an idiot, leaned on Megumi’s shoulder as you whispered to his ear, "Fushiguro… is Gojo your true love?"

Megumi shoved you off, "I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU."

"I hate everything,” Yuji just lay back down

Gojo, absolutely thriving, clapped his hands.

"Alright, now that that’s settled—who wants pancakes?"

Megumi wished the ground would swallow him whole.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader

I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror

It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.

Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.

Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.

It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?

You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.

Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.

Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ

You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.

It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.

The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.

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[uss-edsall]

I read a very interesting article recently.

Hiroo Onoda is a famous name among WWII history buff circles. He was the soldier who disappeared into the Philippine jungle at the end of the war with three other soldiers, and ended up being the last to surrender after 29 years fighting a "guerilla war" until he surrendered in 1974. For at least twenty years he fought with one other, Kinshichi Kozuka; who was killed by police in 1972.

The article was about one woman named Mia Stewart, a Filipino-Australian, who's trying to get the funding to finish a documentary she's been working on for about 20 years.

The documentary she's making is trying to shed a little more light than the fascinating "lone samurai" legend that has been built up around Onoda. It very pointedly asks one thing -- what is this "guerilla war" he was fighting for 29 years? Who were his opponents? Who was he fighting?

Onoda (and Kozuka until his death) were killing, sometimes in very gruesome ways, almost exclusively Filipino civilians. Innocent people who were just living their normal lives -- who couldn't fight back. One of their victims was Mia Stewart's great uncle, when she was barely two years old.

The article essentially asks, "war hero or serial killer?"

Those civilians he stalked and killed or stole from for nearly thirty years weren't ever asked their opinion before the Filipino president gave a blanket pardon, Onoda was welcomed home a hero, and he gained worldwide fame. Their side of the story entirely forgotten as some nebulous force he was fighting "guerilla warfare" against.

It was genuinely kind of enlightening because even I have kind of looked at the Onoda story as a, "wow that's crazy" and never really gave it more thought of "who exactly was he fighting?" I figured he was shooting at cops, if anything. But no, it was nothing as simple as that.

The documentary is not out yet (she doesn't have the funding to finish it, the article was essentially one long ad to go "and if you can donate please do so") but there is a nine minute extended trailer from two years ago

On some level I think if I'd just given it any ounce of thought I'd have gone, "who was he fighting actually?" But instead I just assumed he spent nearly thirty years fighting cops… not doing what the IJA did best and mutilating helpless civilians. But I bought the popular narrative entirely and didn't give an ounce of a think at the question of who was he fighting in this 'guerilla war.'

"Actively fighting a war… against who?" is a question that just straight up never came to my mind.

[amberautumnfaebrooke]

i think i could design a better death arena for children than those hunger games amateurs.

the whole premise of the games is all pageantry. every year you get a crop of 24 candidates around whom the entire state media apparatus dedicates an entire year to building celebrity narratives. this candidate is the younger sibling of last year's winner - these candidates are young lovers forced to compete - he's smart - she's fast - root for them, care about them, watch them, form opinions on them, bet on them. and then they stick them all in an arena to kill each other, which is a great entertainment premise, except that they make the arenas themselves really boring and generic. ooo, they're in...a forest.

it's not even an interestingly designed forest. imagine if the game designers treated their arena like an actual video game designer treats level design. discrete zones with multiple paths between each room, creative use of lighting to guide players to points of interest, points of interest scattered across the map, discoverable resources hidden to encourage exploration. instead they just have a generic outdoors location and if you get too close to the edge they throw a random fireball at you.

the 75th games are especially bad about this. the arena is laid out radially into 12 wedges, and each hour one wedge becomes especially dangerous in a 12-hour loop. as a mechanic, this is genius. it forces everyone to keep moving, making "survival by hiding" an engaging and tense viewing experience instead of someone sitting in a tree for three days. plus, it encourages players to return to the center of the arena, where travel time between wedges is short, which creates a high-value zone for players to regularly return to and conflict over. in other words, it's a mechanic which incentives players to adopt dramatic, dynamic, exciting behaviors which are entertaining to watch (not to mention it communicates geography to the audience well). but it only incentives those behaviors if the players understand what's happening, and they go out of their way not to tell the players anything! when they figure out what's going on, the showrunners spin the arena to disorient the players, like they're intentionally trying to get them to just. randomly wander the jungle instead.

this isn't even to mention how often they create undramatic, boring deaths. they plant poison berries around the arena. they supply no fresh water and no way to get it. they roll poison clouds over sleeping victims. these happen to work out in the books themselves but you have to imagine that extremely often these just result in players dying unexciting deaths.

the cardinal sin though, of course, is that nothing is done to personalize the arena for the crop of contestants that year. if i'm designing the 75th hunger games and two of my most beloved contestants famously had to cancel their wedding because of a return to the games, i would OBVIOUSLY give them a trail of, i don't know, wild game which conveniently leads directly past a well defended wedding chapel. will they hole up there for a while? hold a mock ceremony for themselves? do or receive ironic violence here? stare wistfully and move on? any of it is better television than getting attacked by generic attack monkeys. you should have a dozen of these things on the map for every single candidate. but the game makers are more interested in doing the same thing every other game has done than in telling a compelling story.

it makes me second guess enjoying the children's murder arenas at all.

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[astonmartinii]

day four: rock(ette)ing around the christmas tree

pairing: pierre gasly x fem rockette reader

high kicks this, high kicks that, pierre is ready to kick off because his job is getting in the way of his festive wag duties

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 238,044 others

yourusername: back in the concrete jungle wet dream tomato for another round of rockette duty !!!

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user1: how does it feel to live my dream

user2: its not fair that 1. she’s a literal rockette 2. looks like that and 3. is with a whole ass f1 driver ???

user3: everyone saying that she’s lucky to be with him but have we considered that he’s massively batting above his league?

user4: real …. i hope their babies have her hairline

pierregasly: HUH???

yukitsunoda0511: i make sure to remind him everyday 🫶🏻

user5: obsessed with yuki’s need to humble pierre all the time

yukitsunoda0511: he bagged a queen and has made it everyone else’s problem since

yourusername: can you blame him?

pierregasly: don’t answer that yuki

charles_leclerc: please please please come back right now this whiny french man won’t shut up

yourusername: … it’s my job

charles_leclerc: well i’d also argue that wrangling this oversized puppy with attachment issues is also your job

yourusername: no it’s my passion! there’s a difference

pierregasly: seeeeeee !!!! i am loved :(

yourusername: you are! but please cool it on the texts, i got so many going through the TSA that they thought i had a vibrator in my carry on 😭

pierregasly: WITHOUT ME?

yourusername: babe can we not read?

pierregasly: oh! lol i was ready to fight the world of battery operated sex toys

estebanocon: you need help

pierregasly: LEAVE ME ALONE

user6: smile guys i think we’re in the original

user7: bro is crashing out

user8: tbf i’d give my left ball to have a chance with y/n

pierregasly: i will castrate you for free if you even think about her!

yourusername: so romantic <3

pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511 and 524,087 others

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly: engine failures got me missing my girl :(

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user10: my one dream this christmas is to get a man this in love with me

user11: really waiting for my grapes to kick in

user12: any second now i swear...

yourusername: mine took three years to come true so hang on

pierregasly: as if i wasn't manifesting you

yukitsunoda0511: bro retired but still hasn't caused any damage this year damn

pierregasly: told them to give me the projected damages for the season as a bonus so i could treat my girl

yukitsunoda0511: ... and nothing for the guy who is actually at all of the races ???

pierregasly: that is your job?

yukitsunoda0511: and i just comfort you after the races for the love of the game?

pierregasly: yes?

yukitsunoda0511: well it looks like i'll be looking for a new boyfriend this christmas

yourusername: what the hell, sure

user13: y/n just giving up against yukierre

yourusername: sometimes you gotta just sit back and let them get it out

yourusername: and also i do actually get invited to pierre's house in milan (i do also live there)

yukitsunoda0511: THAT IS A SORE SUBJECT Y/N WHY WOULD YOU GO THERE

yourusername: you're calling my boyfriend your boyfriend in public instagram comments?

yukitsunoda0511: PLEASE STAY IN NEW YORK FOREVER

pierregasly: yuki ???

yourusername: that's not very christmas spirit of you yuki

user14: y/n is thousands of miles away but still pulled into the scraps

pierregasly: i'm glad she loves me and puts up with it

yukitsunoda0511: why are you both being so mean to me today :(

yourusername: it's the christmas presents that keep me around (jokes, OBVIOUSLY)

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511 and 2,109,778 others

tagged: pierregasly, danielricciardo & landonorris

charles_leclerc: i've stolen his phone so he won't see this but @yourusername he's scarily easy to kidnap

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user15: so we're on kidnap now... i think the season needs to finish now

user16: no we gotta see how far they are taking it

user17: there's no race in qatar because half of the grid have been arrested lol

francocolapinto: please manifest it i need one of their seats

user18: so real

charles_leclerc: i hate to break it to you franco but you're also on the plane

francocolapinto: don't be dumb charles, i know that, i'm just too pretty to go to jail

charles_leclerc: if anyone is too pretty to go to jail on this AIRPLANE IT IS ME NOW PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN PIERRE IS GETTING SUSPICIOUS

user19: FRANCO IS THERE?

user20: are they all there ???

maxverstappen1: when all is done i don't wanna hear from ANY of them that i don't do anything for them

charles_leclerc: sorry good sir but not all of us have a private jet we can use at the drop of a hat

maxverstappen1: oh i know, i will just hold this over all of you (especially pierre) for as long as i can

charles_leclerc: it's pierre's surprise, why would you hold it against him

maxverstappen1: because i can 👌

yourusername: so on a scale of 1 - 10 how worried should i actually be?

maxverstappen1: very.

charles_leclerc: MAX

charles_leclerc: all is under control y/n do not worry

yourusername: i gotta go warm up for my show tonight i better not finish the show to news reports that my boyfriend is dead

charles_leclerc: he will be alive!

yourusername: and well?

charles_leclerc: i don't want to make that guarantee

yourusername: EXCUSE ME?

charles_leclerc: what? my lawyers told me to never make promises i can't 100% deliver on?

yourusername: well consider me worried

user21: they're defo doing what we think they're doing right

oscarpiastri: if you've got more than two brain cells and the ability to read context cues you will know, it's not the craziest surprise ever

charles_leclerc: we're not in a country rn, maritime laws and all that - THINK

user22: .... riiiiiiiiiiiiight

yukitsunoda0511

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 489,205 others

tagged: pierregasly & yourusername

yukitsunoda0511: using this love sick fool as an excuse to visit new york

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user24: they took him to nyc to see y/n !!! that's so cute i can't

user25: are they going to go to y/n's show ???

maxverstappen1: they weren't allowed my jet without the assurance that we were going to that damn show

yourusername: you were very happy to see me as someone who recently publicly told me to stay in nyc forever ...

yukitsuonda0511: obviously i said that so we could come visit you !!!

yukitsunoda0511: it was all a part of the plan

charles_leclerc: ummmm you had no part of the plan

yukitsunoda0511: i clearly seduced pierre into not asking questions

yourusername: you're very close to successfully seducing my foot to your ass

yukitsunoda0511: pierre !!!!!!!!!!!!

pierregasly: i am not helping you here bro

user26: someone get yuki a girlfriend before he gets his ass high kicked out of radio city

yukitsunoda0511: at this point i am just doing it to annoy them

yourusername: whatever you want to tell yourself girlypop

yukitsunoda0511: you're just scared that i'd look better than you in the costumes

yourusername: oh really?

pierregasly: okay girls there's enough pierre to go around

pierregasly: but it is all going to y/n, sorry yuki

yukitsunoda0511: you're scared you'll find things out about yourself

pierregasly: is it time to go home yet y/n ???

user27: fuck george vs max i need y/n vs yuki

user28: instead of crash threats it's just yuki threatening to steal rockette outfits

user29: surely there's someone who can make this happen? @f1 @yourusername

yourusername: noooooooo chance

yukitsunoda0511: cough, cough SCARED

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen and 303,277 others

tagged: pierregasly

yourusername: heard my frenchie missed me <3

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user30: my god they're so cute

user31: i love when a man is so shameless about his love

user32: the matching outfits !!!!!!!

charles_leclerc: thanks charles!

charles_leclerc: you're a great friend

charles_leclerc: you're an amazing person who knows us so well and DOESN'T try and seduce one of us

charles_leclerc: how can we ever repay you

charles_leclerc: oh well, no worries guys i love you

yourusername: nurse he's out again

charles_leclerc: i'm giving you ten seconds before i lose my shit

yourusername: i jest !!! thank you for bringing my lover boy to me charles

pierregasly: thank you charlooooo i guess all my complaining was worth it, i'll make sure to keep it up

charles_leclerc: no no no no no no no No No No NO NO NO NO

user33: charles got major friend points for reuniting them (after like a week away from each other lol) and now will be stuck with pierre complaining full time

alexalbon: and this kids, is why we're not nice to each other

user34: the grid being so done with pierre is so funny

charles_leclerc: the change from him being a slut to a lover boy is too much for my head

pierregasly: can we tell radio city to push back your performances to the second week of december so we don't have to be apart

yourusername: babe i don't think i'm important enough to be making those kind of demands

pierregasly: I THINK YOU'RE IMPORTANT ENOUGH

yourusername: thank you baby but being a rockette is my dream so you'll have to deal with a couple weeks without me

pierregasly: so you don't miss me :(

yourusername: you're on my mind all the time, i love you xx

pierregasly: i love you more xx

pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 673,298 others

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly: only two more races until i can become a full time christmas wag xx

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user37: the grid are so cute 🥰

user38: the way y/n's dressing room was full of flowers omg she's so loved

user39: the videos of them just being flabbergasted by the show, so personal to me

yourusername: thank you all for coming to see the show !! i promise everyone else were a lot less chill about you guys being there than they let off

pierregasly: no thank YOU for being the star you are 🌟

yourusername: ugh i love you so much

yourusername: are qatar and abu dhabi really that important?

pierregasly: unfortunately they are :( (i am also contractually obligated to be there)

yourusername: boooooooooooooo

alpinef1: but we're paying him to buy you christmas presents

yourusername: ... okay i guess

user40: christmas came early with all this grid content

user41: this is what i wanted from drive to survive not the fabricated drama

yukitsunoda0511: although i still think i'd look better in the costumes... i don't think i'd slay the high kicks like you y/n :(

yourusername: i'll take it !

yukitsunoda0511: but you guys will let me come to the milan house in the new year right?

yourusername: you'll have to ask pierre ...

yukitsunoda0511: PIERRE PLEASE

pierregasly: i guess... only if you stop saying you're prettier than my girlfriend. NO ONE IS PRETTIER THAN HER

yourusername: that's crazy coming from the handsomest man in the world

charles_leclerc: let's not get too crazy here y/n

yourusername: look who isn't getting a christmas present this year now ...

charles_leclerc: i mean last year you gave me a "this candle smells like max verstappen" and a max cardboard cutout

maxverstappen1: sounds like a great gift to me ...

pierregasly: well the presents she gets me are great

charles_leclerc: i don't want to know about those presents

user42: even christmas isn't free from them being horn dogs

yourusername: why do you think i learnt to high kick babe ....

charles_leclerc: shut THE FUCK UP

pierregasly: heheheheeh

fin.

note: oh gosh it's been a busy busy busy week. i haven't written for pierre for like a year lol - enjoy!

[rainynightmoonlight]

Punch To Love || Yan Delinquent x GN Reader

Characters: Bone

Summary: School Delinquent wants your attention

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence

a/n: He's a softy. This is Jesse's rival.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yan Delinquent who doesn't really go to class. Only goes when he needs to keep himself from getting expelled. He doesn't want to worry his mom. Or his sister. He manages to keep his grades up enough too.

Yan Delinquent who meets you early on in the semester when a group project was assigned. He honestly wouldn't have thought you would pick him to be your partner, especially when the pink weirdo is stuck to your side.

Yan Delinquent who ends up putting in more effort than he thought he would have when with you. He's even more shocked when you take interest in him after, wanting to stay and get to know him. He's usually alone, so this is a complete switch to what he's used too.

Yan Delinquent who after a couple of weeks when the project finishes, can't seem to forget you. You were different. He liked that a lot. Whenever he smoked on campus, he imagined what it would be like to kiss you right after. Oh god he's screwed.

Yan Delinquent who denies he has the biggest crush ever on you. Sure he stalks you from a distance. Sure he wishes he could punch the pink weirdo. Sure he fights behind your back when someone insults you. But that's just because he's repaying your kindness. Nothing more.

Yan Delinquent who takes a lot of time to accept the fact that he's completely whipped for you. It only takes one of his buddies to point out how puppylike he is when you're around. It's embarrassing at first, but he's so happy.

Yan Delinquent who finds himself coming to the classes you share more often. He often finds himself also seeking out your help to study and on topics he doesn't understand. Man he relishes the disappointed look the pink weirdo has when you tell him that you had to study with someone else.

Yan Delinquent who loves staying late in the library with you. The smell of his coffee is a lot more calming than his cigarettes, but he can't help the cravings. He's trying so hard to fight them back to look more studious in front of you.

Yan Delinquent who gets harassed by the pink weirdo you call your best friend the day after. The pink haired boy is taking pictures of him and saying he could never be good enough. Well that may be true, but he would treat you so much better than your pink loving best friend.

Yan Delinquent who watches your best friend showcase the pictures he took of the delinquent smoking, cutting class, and beating up a not so defenseless student. In awe, he watches you deny your best friend's claims and actually show your trust in the delinquent. He needs you to marry him right now.

Yan Delinquent who hangs out with you a lot more now. He invites you to ditch class with him and leave campus with him. He even feels more comfortable to smoke around you. You don't judge, and it makes him so fuzzy, though if you express your distaste for the smell then he'll try to avoid doing so in front of you.

Yan Delinquent who gets interrogated by his mom about you. He's so embarrassed when he has to explain why he's so smiley now and that he's been more motivated when around you. She's so happy that he finally has a good influence in his life though. His litter sister is even more curious.

Yan Delinquent who runs into you outside of school when he takes his sister to the park. He gets all blushy and lets his sister run around the jungle gym when he talks to you. He's so different outside of school. He's so much softer and less broody.

Yan Delinquent who has to stop his little sister from embarrassing him when she sees you. She asks you so many questions and if you're the person that he was telling his mom about. You were flattered, and she became so attached to you.

Yan Delinquent who is so good at hiding the fact that he gets into fights for you. Sure he gets a few cuts and bruises, but it's so easy to lie. Some bitch was encouraging on his area and he was defending himself. Your naivety is his best friend at this point.

Yan Delinquent who comes to you when he does get injured. Your hands are so delicate when handling him, he can't help but blush when your fingers feel like feathers against his skin. It alleviates all pain he feels. Even when it's just a small paper cut, and you're putting on a silly cartoon band-aid on it.

Yan Delinquent who becomes surprisingly whiny when you won't treat his wounds. What do you mean he doesn't need a band-aid and your gentle touch when bumps something against a door? Maybe you should kiss it better and he'll stop whining.

Yan Delinquent who threatens freely. He will glare and snarl at anyone who tries to get close to you. The only one bold enough to never back down is that pink haired weirdo. He can't stand him! Though he can't express his distaste for your best friend.

Yan Delinquent who introduces you to his mom after she pesters him enough. He brings you over to dinner and has to sit through so many embarrassing questions and anecdotes. He did not need you to know that he cried when he was 5 because Santa didn't bring him what he wanted for Christmas.

Yan Delinquent who is very clearly becoming your guard dog. Scary boyfriend privileges. He can't help but want to keep you safe. You're a pure rarity in his world, and he'll be damned if he loses it. Especially to that pink haired weirdo who is trying so hard to keep you two apart.

Yan Delinquent who finally throws hands with the pink weirdo. Both take and deliver punches like no tomorrow until you come to break up the fight. Now, they're both sitting in the nurse's office glaring at each other with you taking care of both of them. It would have been a dream if that cute prick wasn't here ruining his day.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[crkstuffidk]

I've brought up so many times already as to why I think the beasts became corrupted but I never quite explain my thinks as to why nothing held them back. So let me do that right now

I refer to it an anchor all the time for some reason, mostly because it reminds me of one since it kind of keeps then grounded but whatever.

The beasts didn't seem to have 'anchors' or something to keep them sane and grounded. But the ancients do, let me explain now what those 'anchors' are

Dark Cacaos most prominent one was his son, but it was also his kingdom which we know he's cares deeply about, along with his soldiers.

Hollyberries was her family; Royal Berry, Jungle Berry, princess, Tiger Lily. But also her friends; the other ancients.

Golden Cheese has literally said what her 'anchors' are in the cutscene of her destroyed kingdom, those being her 'treasures' which is what she would called her denizens, and also since smoked cheese is alive, him too.

Pure Vanillas back when he was healer cookie was the villagers, and as Pure Vanilla it was his friends and actually pretty much every cookie in or out of his kingdom.

White Lily's is a bit more difficult but I think it's safe to say that her anchor was the Faeries, and honestly she believed what she was doing was best for cookie kind, so technically all of cookie kind too.

And I'm sure there's more for all of them too that's just all I can think of right now.

Now why is this important to the beasts? Simple the beasts didn't have 'anchors' and no their henchman as beasts don't count, because they only came around when they were already beasts. The only 'anchors' the beasts had were eachother, and that's its, because lots of their citizens stressed them out and played some role in them becoming corrupted.

So you can pretty much guess that when one of the beasts became corrupted it kind of set off a chain reaction of the rest of them becoming corrupted too in due time.

Soooo yeah that's it, just realized that I've only ever thought about it and never put these thoughts out there.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 3 – The One About That Guy, That Girl, and the Dragon

I’m just going to jump right on my magical pixie pony for this one – because why the fuck not? But, I promise this speculation has a foundation of fact. So, there’s that.

On Sunday, November 10, 2024 – seemingly out of nowhere – Zoe McConnell posted to her IG stories a picture of Nicola from a photoshoot from November 2022.  Yes, you read that right – 2022. Zoe reposted this to her stories exactly two years from the day she first posted it to her grid.

Why?

Uh, happy anniversary to the picture? [feel free to scratch your head in confusion because I sure as shit did – but only for a second]

Who cares about a photoshoot from 2022?

And, don’t even get me started on the weird ass suggestion this was a push for Nicola to win – what bullshit award show is up next? – People’s Choice Awards. Actually, do get me started on that because that theory just makes my eyes roll.  The only connection I see here is that the dress Nicola is wearing was from her 2022 Glamour Awards appearance.  What exactly does that have to do with People’s Choice? Nothing.

Now, forget all about that shit and keep reading.

What IS interesting about this post from Zoe is that, if you’re a certain creator or anyone who has ever read this certain creator’s timeline, you’d know that this picture is referenced in said timeline (P.S. My disclaimer today is that I am not a fan of said creator but that doesn’t negate the information she has distributed to the masses).

Here’s what happened two years ago:

On November 9, 2022, Nicola posted one of Zoe’s images to her own grid, thanking Glamour for her award. Luke liked this post.

On that same day, Nicola posted a second set of pictures from that same photoshoot. Luke did not like that post.

The following day, November 10, 2022, Zoe posted one of those additional pictures to her own grid. Luke liked that post from Zoe’s grid. But, he did not go back and like Nicola’s second grid post from the day before. Why? Why go to Zoe's grid instead of Nicola's to like the pictures? I could speculate on this for the next eight minutes but I’ll let you come to your own conclusion.

So, this past Sunday, Zoe posts to her stories a link to that November 10, 2022 grid post that Luke liked. Nicola reposted Zoe’s story to her own IG stories. If you’re a Nicola fan, I can probably guess what you're going to do next. You’re going to click on Nicola’s story – which takes you to Zoe’s page – and when you click on Zoe’s stories – it takes you to the original November 10, 2022 post, which Luke liked at that time.

Odd, that.

And, by “odd,” I mean odd in the fact that no one cares about a two-year-old picture. I mean, really, who fucking cares? Except Lukolas who see Luke’s like on the original post.

Let’s keep moving.

On November 11, 2024, Zoe was right back at it. She posted to her IG stories another picture of Nicola from the same photoshoot. This time it was the one Zoe originally posted back on November 11, 2022. Yay, another anniversary. Zoe put a cutesy little caption that read: “Princess Peach.” Nicola did not reshare this story. I mean, at this point, we’re all watching Zoe, right? No need to reshare because our Lukola interest has been peaked, in my opinion.

Then, a few hours after Zoe’s post, Rachell Smith, also a photographer, posted an old picture of Luke to her grid. This picture isn’t as old as Zoe’s but it does go back to May 2024. Rachell follows it up with an IG story of the same image with the song, “Lifting You” by Jungle. Take a moment and go look up the lyrics and meaning of that song. Fine, fine, fine. I’ll just tell you. The song is about being deeply committed and doing whatever is needed to make a relationship work (this, per Mr. Google). Rachell’s caption? “[O]ur knight and shining [Luke].”

Well, fuckety fuck fuck fuck.

We have a princess and we have a knight.

Interesting.

I mean, we grew up with this idea that the knight in shining armor saved the princess, right?

To be honest, yesterday, I had no clue what that was all about (and I really didn't care -- the seas have been rough for the USS Lukola lately) so I went about my day like normal.

But, this morning, the wheels and cogs in my head started working together.

I wondered how that ever came about – the idea that a knight saved a princess.

So, I asked Mr. Google: “Where did the story about a knight rescuing a princess originate?”

Okay, yeah, I see Perseus and Andromeda…and in Western culture….Saint George and the Dragon…

Wait --

What?

Saint George and the Dragon?

Nope. Not possible.

But, I was certain it was.

I scurried over to Tiktok to find the post I’d seen a few months earlier about the medallion Luke wore for a long time – the one Nicola allegedly gave him. The TT creator believed that the necklace depicted none other than Saint George and the Dragon! Now, I must add that this has never been confirmed but the TT creator did make a fairly convincing argument for it. This is also the necklace Luke was allegedly wearing in the “Polin” picture that was released simultaneously by Nicola and Luke on October 21, 2024 (based on the chain of the necklace he was wearing).

Delulu?

Yeah, maybe.

But, we also can’t make this shit up.

Edit (11/14/2024): Today, Luke's People Magazine photoshoot came out. Guess who his photographer was? Zoe McConnell.

Again, we can't make this shit up.

[shanastoryteller]

its something they think they grew out of <- This phrase you said about kids being hit but the parent later stops has just been rolling around of my head. Like oh thats truly how a good portion of society (myself included) just accepts happens to themselves and to others and how sometimes in tv parents go “You’re not too grown that I can’t hit you anymore” like why is this normalized

well! the short and sweet answer is that society views children not as their own persons, but as an extension of their parents, to be either coddled or abused as the parent sees fit. since the abuse stops by the time they've achieved their own personhood, it's not seen as relevant

the messier but also true answer is that children experiencing physical abuse tend to find the whole physical part of it that least upsetting bit of it. if the child doesn't care, and the parent doesn't care, then nobody else is going to care either. not to mention that time softens it even further. and by the time you've grown up enough to go "hey what the fuck was that all about" you're also so far removed from it that it feels almost childish to dig into it - because your childhood was smeared with violence, and so violence now feels like a childish thing

excepting extreme cases, the pain of abuse isn't something that lingers. bruises and bloody noses. the marks of a perfectly healthy childhood even, except yours isn't from tumbling from the jungle gym or schoolyard battles, but because an adult decided to put their hands on you, to teach a lesson that if you forgot then your skin would remember

the part that hurts is that they wanted to hurt you. the thing that lingers is the stress of not knowing the next time they'd hurt you. what gnaws at you is that you are so small and your parents are your whole world and all you want is them to love you. so you justify it. you excuse you it, you ignore it, perhaps you even start to act out, so that the next time you're bruised and bloody you at least feel like you earned it (if you earn it then it's not their fault, then it's not because there's something wrong with them - a fact that if true is terrifying because there's nothing you can do about it - but with you, the one person you can control)

the pain isn't actually the problem. often, the pain is a relief

if it's something you can grow out of, that's a good thing. because it means their disdain and lack of care and the thought that you're not being loved right is something you can outgrow, something you can leave behind in childhood, and that's what you want

but the truth of it is that if your parents don't love you properly as a child, they won't love you properly as an adult

the reason people often think of it as something that can be outgrown is that they're desperate for it to be something they can outgrow

the reason parents physically harming their child is so damaging isn't because it causes them pain, although of course that's bad. it's because it breaks their heart

[bunniandhoney]

can you please write an nsfw alphabet for jacob?

why yes, yes i can dear!

Jacob Scipio NSFW Alphabet

mdni. 18+

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jacob is a pleasure dom, so aftercare is one of his favorite parts of sex. he knows you hate going to bed dirty, so he always makes sure you shower, but if he really wears you out nothing is better than a relaxing bath. Jacob also tries his best to get any tangles from your hair, he’ll separate strand by strand if needed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

if someone asks him that in public he would say your smile, how infectious it is. but if you asked him on a deeper level he’d say your mouth. He loves when you suck him off, how you immediately push yourself, trying to make sure the tip of your nose meets the hairs at the base of his dick. and then how wet and warm your mouth gets when you do it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a breeding kink. he actually gets upset if he comes anywhere that isn’t your pussy, regardless if you are on birth control or not he has to pump his seed inside you. He also might keep a small plug in his nightstand to ensure you stay full throughout the night.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a panty sniffer; he actually can’t help himself! As soon as he gets them off of you he puts them up to his nose taking a deep breath. He's also been known to slip a couple used pairs in his suitcase when he has to leave, Jacob has to take a piece of you with him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

bff!jacob: not a virgin, but he’s only ever had sex with one person. Everything else has been a random blowie with a hook up.

alpha detective!jacob: is a virgin! he literally can’t stand anyone else besides his mate, and since he hasn’t claimed anyone yet. The only person allowed to touch him is hisself.

olderbf!jacob: has been around the block a time or two, so to be frank he’s a damn slut. which works in your favor because he treats your body so freaking good. but sometimes, when he’s really rocked your world you just look over at him “where the hell did you learn that?” you say scowling at him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

well…if we are going to say Jacob has a breeding kink, I believe that a mating press is the only reasonable answer.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

oh he’s dead serious during sex. he’s a pleasure dom and finds nothing funny at all in making you cum. now after…he’s a full blown menace. He definitely seems like the type to mock your moans after the fact.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s probably pretty well groomed, not bare because he does like the hair, but trimmed. He has been known to let it grow to a full jungle on occasion.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sometimes, you need it soft and Jacob is there to grant every last one of your wishes. He loves to press soft kisses all over your body when you all decide to take it slow; literally from your feet to the crown of your head.

when he puts it in he knows he has to go slow, “it’s okay baby, i know this dick is big, but you always take it so thrust* fucking thrust* good thrust* ”

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

while Jacob is rough with you, he’s so damn gentle with himself. For example, he gives himself slow pumps teasing his other hands down his abs, feeling them contract as he makes his way down to his balls. when he holds then Jacob has to tighten the grip on his dick to keep from coming too fast. and boy is it sticky, he just leaks so much precum it’s ridiculous and messy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

mkay well we said breeding, so how about overstimulation, for both of you. Jacob refuses to do anything half assed so when he fucks he has so make sure that both of you actually reach your limits and that means fucking you until neither of you can take it anymore.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

kitchen, your counters are the perfect height for him to bend you over and do whatever he wants. He has also pulled a wooden spoon out of the drawer to spank you a time or two.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

of course your very existence gets him going buuuuut; if we’re being specific he loves to see you doing something you're passionate about.

imagine you’re on your knees in front of the coffee table with giant noise canceling headphones trying to focus and you’re just going in on your newest 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle. your tongue poking out just a little on the side as you look for the next matching piece. and unbeknownst to you jacob is so hard he could cut diamonds.

the next thing you know you’re riding his face, “mmm keep working baby, you’re almost there. “ he says muffled by your cunt. and honestly you have no clue if he’s talking about you cumming or you finishing the puzzle, but neither of you really cares.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Jacob is Caribbean, he’s not pissing on anyone or vice versa. Now he’s usually open to trying or at least having a discussion, especially if you’re married. because forever is a long time to not try anything new.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's a munch, simple as that. Jacob is ready to put his tongue on any part of your body.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

rough and slow actually. He's definitely a manhandler, but he doesn’t want you to miss anything. Jacob needs you to feel everything that he’s doing to you, actually he needs to pound it into you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Jacob prefers to make you come more than once, so he’s not fond of the quickie. but at the same time he needs to have his hands on you and will take whatever you give him, even if it’s a quick handy before you all leave for a date night.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s very private and very possessive, he’s most likely not trying anything too risky. Jacob is also a gentleman, so he wouldn’t dare put you in a situation where you might be uncomfortable.

Though I could see him sharing you with a close friend (boy or girl) if you were looking to experiment. He's not stupid though, NDA’s are certainly being passed around.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If it were up to him, he’s fuck you till he’s sore and then go two more rounds. You see, because Jacob is the kind of man who nuts and stays hard.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Jacob most def has a cock ring, it started off as a gag gift for his birthday, but one night after you all took one too many edibles you two gave it a try. and once he figures out that he could fuck you even longer than usual, he loves the damn thing. he can’t use it too often though because he gets sore.

you don’t use vibrators too often either because you’re so damn sensitive, and Jacob can make you come at the drop off the hat, but not when you’ve been naughty…Jacob will have you tied to the bed, with you laying on your stomach and a vibrating wand snug against your clit while he watches you cum over and over.

He did also get a dildo made in the shape of his dick for you, but he’s so damn possessive that he doesn’t even want to see the silicone inside of you, regardless if it’s modeled after his own dick or not.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he’s Mr. Teaser himself, Acting CEO of Teasing Inc.

He loves to see you squirm, especially because you are stubborn as hell. He knows the only way for you to let go is to bring you to the very edge. but bringing you there just once is never enough, Jacob needs you practically crying before he lets you come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Jacob has a tendency to be on the quieter side, but mainly because he wants to get you loud, screaming for him. He also likes to whisper dirty shit in your ear because he’s just that diabolical, so mainly expect gruffs and huffs from him.

Now sub!jacob can’t shut the hell up! There have been plenty of times where you had to put your hand over his mouth in the backseat of the car, just so the driver won’t hear him whine for you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

cowboy fugitive jacob x bounty hunter reader 👀

but could you freaking imagine!!!

————

“This here poster says you’re wanted dead or alive Scipio, and you’re more trouble to me breathing.” YN says holding the pistol to his back. YN had first seen him at the bar in Aunt Fanny’s Saloon, and with a 5,000 dollar reward for his head she couldn’t pass it up, so she set up outside waiting for her moment.

It just so happens that “her moment” is when sharpshooter scipio is ass-naked at the watering hole in the back.

“Look darlin’, I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure we can work something out.” he turns around with his cock pointed right at you

—

I mean talk about a loaded gun!

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6 1/2 inches, and my word he is thick! no matter how many times you all have sex, you’ll feel a slight burn from the stretching and you love it. he’s more of a shower but he might stretch to a good 7-7 1/2 inches when he’s hard. and obviously it’s brown, with a nice mauve tip (uncut 👀)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH! when he’s with someone he really likes , he’s gonna fuck till he’s sore. he’s a physical touch demon, and needs to be on you at all times

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

as soon as you’re both cleaned up, he’s knocked out. oftentimes you all hop back into the bed once the sheets are changed and you cuddle up right next to him. with your nails lightly scratching at his beard and his arm wrapped around you Jacob can’t help but to fall asleep even if you’re still awake.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

jeez, this is just dirty (complimentary)

thank you for the request!

i’m still working through all of them, also trying to incorporate them into my other tropes for y’all.

also yall love a lil smut, so how do we feel about like a smut concept night sort of thing 👀

get all of your naughty thoughts out in one evening (or several)

lmk your thoughts and keep the requests coming pls!

xoxo

Bunni

[spookieloverslittlemind]

Michael Myers - NSFW Alphabet

tw: mentions of cnc, knife play, spanking, choking

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Has no concept of this prior to meeting you, but Michael does have a territorial base instinct whereby after he’s had you, he does not want you out of his reach for several hours, minimum. Sometimes days. Weeks. But if you teach him what matters to you in terms of aftercare, he’ll do it. A bit robotic when he’s carrying you to a bath or cleaning you up, but it’s the fact he does it based on what you’ve expressed you need, rather than any personal gain - he does it for you, solely.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your face and your waist/stomach; Michael likes being able to read your every micro expression and communicate without your words as well as his own, often rests his head on your stomach when cuddling, and is usually holding your waist when fucking you into the next week.

He’s indifferent to his own body, but utilises his hands more than anything, so would choose that if he had to pick.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Likes smearing it over your kiss-swollen lips. Collecting it on his fingers to push back into your holes.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You know if he pulls your panties to the side rather than ripping them off, it means he’s going to fill you, then leave you filled and let you drip into those panties for the rest of the day. Sit in it. It’s part of those animal instincts, a means of marking you with his scent, his seed.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Nothing prior to meeting you, but doesn’t really need it. Just follows instincts to clap cheeks.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Bending you over the couch. Undoubtedly. Lifting you up by your throat? Spanking? Controlling the pace? Yeah.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s the pioneer of the sassy man apocalypse - in a deadly silent way - but he’s not goofy. Most you’ll get is him tilting his mask to the side in an expressionless means of conveying “bffr”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Untamed jungle and has no desire to keep that shit trimmed at all. Has no thoughts to his body hair or anyone else’s, for that matter.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As intimate as he’s capable of being, but Michael has no “romantic” feelings in the traditional sense. It’s all about ownership for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not of interest to Michael at all. If he’s not got you to fuck, the urge doesn’t cross his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Say it w me now: cnc !!!

But also knife play, dominating you in any capacity, choking, spanking, marking you (bruises in the shape of his fingerprints/hands + hickeys), blindfolding you so he can take his mask off and ruin you, and obviously wearing a mask in general. First time you wore your own mask and stood w his same silence? He was like a feral animal. Loved that shit.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere he can have you without anyone seeing. Not opposed to taking you in a public place if people can only see him pounding something, but cant see he’s pounding you, specifically.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Doesn’t really have the traditional sense of a libido, more like animal instincts. Usually Michael just comes home and bends you over the nearest piece of furniture, if he feels like it. Anytime you get needy, he indulges you. But in terms of what actually gets him going, the closest thing would be you submitting to him. Obeying wordless instructions from him. Doesn’t necessarily “turn him on” so to speak, but satisfies him in a primal way.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Expose you where anyone else can see. Michael doesn’t feel love like people do, what he feels for you is more akin to ownership and possession, being entertained by your submission. Keeping that in mind, anything that involves sharing you (even just a view) is not something he’ll even consider.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

If he’s receiving, he’s literally just standing there like:

(-_-)

/ | \

/\

And don’t get me wrong, seeing you on your knees for him? That does it for him big time. But Michael actually prefers giving (you’ll have to persuade him to take his mask off and blindfold yourself/keep your eyes closed - whatever your kinky preference x). More often than not, prefers to pin you against a wall with your legs over his shoulders, so he can stand at his full height with his face between your thighs. He’s all about that. You heard it here first folks: Michael Myers is a munch.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Typically fast and rigid, not exactly soft or tender, but sometimes in the post-nut relief Michael traces your facial features with his fingers. Something about feeling his own cum dripping out of you brings out the soft side of him <333

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

So down it’s diabolical. Will not hesitate to bend you over anytime you need it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Michael doesn’t have much of a concept of “risks”. He’s down to try absolutely anything you suggest to him, but he also wont ever suggest anything himself both because he doesn’t talk and because he doesn’t care. If he gets to pound you into next week, he’s satisfied. Anything you choose to add to that only adds to his experience because you make more noise/squirm/cum more for him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bro is immortal and never wastes energy running so you KNOW he’s got that pace FR. Will go as many rounds as it takes for you to pass out and will probably carry on using you after you’ve passed out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not so much toys but props like knives, obviously.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Doesn’t understand teasing. Knows you tease the fuck out of him and it pisses him off which leads to him ruining you. More to teach you a lesson than because you’ve actually riled him up, because it doesn’t really work for him in that way.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Apart from heavy breathing and clapping cheeks, you’re not getting much sound out of Mike.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a thing for sneaking (breaking) into your house at night and fucking you while you sleep (w established consent in advance, of course).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s a tall guy, so above average length, definitely above average girth. Does not wear pants under his boiler suit so you’ll see a bulge on the regular.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Feel like this has been more or less covered by previous answers, but Michael doesn’t have a traditional libido. Just territorial instincts to own. So when that strikes, he takes, and if you need it, he’s always game.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

The Shape does not need to sleep.

[zarla-s]

I just read your TF2 bot post and I’m fascinated. It has left me with a few questions though. Why/how were bots a problem for so long? What was the main incentive for botting (is it botting or boting??) Was it just to be an asshole? What’s your favorite baked good? Have a lovely day and don’t worry about answering my questions if you’re not in the mood :]

The bots were a problem for so long because Valve just didn't care, sorry to say. They just let it happen. I'm not sure when they started coming in in force, maybe after the Jungle Inferno update like six years ago? But they just kept pouring in and Valve just ignored it. It's really shameful how bad they let it get, honestly. They just kept putting out community updates like nothing was wrong.

Eventually after a lot of community pressure a year ago (#savetf2) they tweeted saying they were aware of the problem and then nothing happened. Then there was ANOTHER community movement this June (#fixtf2), and THEN at the end of June they ACTUALLY did something, which is why everyone was so shocked and skeptical at the time. Like the bots got so bad, it's hard to get across just how bad it got if you weren't playing at the time. It was bad. To suddenly go from that to totally bot-free was unbelievable. Frankly I'm still shocked they're gone! No one knows why Valve's acting now or how they're doing it (personally, I think they must have been working on these anti-bot measures for a while... maybe even since their initial tweet, but no one knows), but I hope they keep it up. I can finally teach people how to play in peace!

As for why they'd do this, yeah, it's just to be jerks. They just want to make people miserable. They have websites on Neocities you can find under the tf2 tag (I was looking through it for sites to link to my tf2 site) and they state themselves that they just like making people mad. I don't think they actually hate TF2 so much as they love the power rush from destroying something so famous that so many people love. Kind of a power-trip/control thing, with a dose of being desperate for attention. A lot of the more notorious bot hosters had twitters or youtube accounts where they invited people to rage at them uselessly, they loved it. They've also formed communities around botting and trolling people, so they have kind of a social investment in it (although they were quick to turn on each other when they suspected someone was a mole). Some of them sell their bot software or "bot immunity" for money but I think that was just pocket change, I don't think that was a real motivator.

After having free reign for so long, they reacted violently to the community movement in June. They were positive that nothing would happen to them, so they kept doing more and more outrageous things to prove it. They DDoS'd and DMCA'd the site for the petition multiple times, they doxxed and swatted one of the main bot fighters, they impersonated figureheads and posted illegal links to things, like they were really stepping over the line and gloating about it. They were extremely confident and to be fair, who could blame them? Valve's negligence let them get away with it for years. To suddenly have that power taken away from them without warning made them absolutely furious. They're still seething about it right now and plotting ways to get back in, but they haven't found one yet. It's a matter of pride for them at this point I think, that and a childish tantrum about not being able to ruin other people's fun anymore. Them targeting a baby game version of TF2 (TC2) also points to it being a power trip. If they can't ruin TF2 anymore then by god they've got to ruin SOMEthing!

Even now I'm not sure Valve can hold the line and I keep checking TF2 Casual every now and then to look for bots, haha. It's just hard to believe! I greatly enjoy hearing about bot hosters raging about it and suffering though, they deserve nothing less. Die mad about it!!!

In terms of baked goods though I like all kinds, although right now I'm thinking about brownies so I'll say that. |D

[iitsarss]

╰ㅤ₊ㅤ๋࣭ㅤreader x gr13f3r　 confession　 ᠀

ꔛ word count: 753⠀╱⠀established friendship + crush 。

(¬_¬")⠀⠀⠀note ⠀╱⠀my ass cannot write smth more than 780 words long erm...yeah....more griefer i love him sm sm sigh i want to smooch him till he can't say anything comprehensible,,also yeah i see he doing this sht like yeah idk,,edit uh,changed 1 thing cause i just wrote the same thing again lol

Griefer was the epitome of immaturity and insensitivity, a walking disaster who thrived on chaos and violence. He relished in commanding others with brute force, going as far as having his father forcibly extract the Venomshank for him.

Now, here he was, standing by the very river where you two had first met as toddlers, struggling to get out the cheesiest words he could muster. It was surreal—how could something so simple be so difficult? He had even watched movies to prepare for this moment, which he would never admit to anyone—except maybe his gorilla pet, the only one privy to the embarrassing secret that he had a massive crush on you. But now, Griefer was a complete mess, unable to string a coherent sentence together without stuttering like a fool. He, of all people, blushing like some schoolgirl confessing to her first crush—it was mortifying!

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Griefer finally blurted out, “L00K, PUNK—I, UH—I L1K3 Y0U A L0T… 3RM… CAN W3 G0 0UT S0M3T1M3? W3 C0ULD G0 T0 TH3 ARCAD3 1F Y0U WANT—N0T THAT 1 CAR3 0R ANYTH1NG… UH, 3RM, CAN W3 HANG 0UT—L1K3 A DAT3? N0, N0T A DAT3! JU5T A HANG 0UT! Y3AH, THAT!”

The words came out in a jumbled rush, faster than he intended, leaving Griefer standing there, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of his chest,what was he even thinking? Calling you to come to that place? Too cheesy! Stuttering in front of you? Pathetic! And just brushing off his attempt in asking you out? God- Embarrassing! He waited, every nerve in his body tense as he anticipated your response, but when nothing came, he panicked even more, brushing it off with forced bravado.

“WA1T, F0RG3T THAT—1T W4S N0TH1NG—HA! J-JU5T A J0K3, ALR1GHT PUNK? JU5T A J0K3.”

Awkward silence hung in the air as Griefer mentally berated himself for how disastrously wrong everything had gone. What had he been thinking, bringing you here of all places? The whole scenario was too cheesy, and his stuttering made him feel like an absolute idiot—God, could this get any more humiliating?

For a moment, he stared at the ground, too embarrassed to meet your eyes. The smile on your face only made him feel worse, as if you were mocking him silently. His palms grew sweaty—though he convinced himself it was just the heat of the jungle—and he took another deep breath, trying to muster the courage to speak again.

“L00K, PUNK, 1—”

But before he could finish, you gently placed a hand on his cheek, and he froze, blushing furiously. What were you doing? He stared at you in bewilderment, his heart skipping a beat as he took in how stunning you looked up close. No, he couldn’t think like that—he was already embarrassed enough.

“PUNK, WHAT AR3 Y—”

His words were cut off as your lips suddenly met his, and Griefer’s brain short-circuited. Panic surged through him, and if he could blush any deeper, he would’ve turned into a human tomato. What was he supposed to do? He’d never kissed anyone before—not properly, anyway. The closest he’d come was a peck on the cheek from a girl back in high school, which didn’t count for much. But now, here you were, the person he actually liked,the person he actually thought of without any violent thoughts before going to sleep,kissing him, and all he could think was how utterly unprepared he was.

Slowly, as if moving through a dream, Griefer raised a hand to your hair, his fingers awkwardly threading through it before trailing down to your cheek. Okay, maybe he was getting the hang of this. His other hand found its way to your hip, pulling you closer, and he tried—really tried—not to mess this up. Which,spoiler!, of course, he did.

After what felt like an eternity—an agonizing, yet heavenly eternity—you both pulled apart. Griefer stared at you, his mind reeling. That… was actually a good kiss, especially for his first time. But then reality set in, and the nerves came rushing back. He had just kissed you—no, YOU had kissed HIM! He always thought he’d be the one to make the first move, and now he felt even more stupid. Who could blame him, though? He was just a hopeless guy in love.

Taking a deep, trembling breath, he looked at you, his hands still slightly shaky, and with all the courage he could muster, he blurted out one last request:

“C-CAN W3 K1SS AGA1N?”

[ilguna]

Can you do prompt 11 from aisle 1 with peeta or finnick? Like reader or whoever u choose is almost killed in the games then they get yelled at n stuff🩷🙏

☼ bloody flowers (Peeta Mellark) ☼

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, blood, ehh gore, weapon use. peeta’s mean.

wc; 2.3k

prompt; 11. yelling at them because they thought they’d lose them.

notes; no katniss, roles for mockingjay are reversed.

—

“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” You tell Peeta and Finnick, breaking the silence.

Finnick is on his feet, slowly wading further into the saltwater, carefully rubbing it on his skin to ensure he’s got all the poison out. He barely looks over his shoulder to acknowledge what you’ve said, nodding. He’s having a hard time speaking, his throat is raw from the amount of fog he breathed in.

As you get to your feet, brushing the sand from your skin, Peeta looks over at you, eyebrows drawing in. “Let me make the hole first. You stay with him, you’re better friends.”

“That’s not…” You shake your head, but he’s heading into the jungle, knife in hand.

When you turn your head to look at Finnick—afraid that he’s heard what Peeta said—you can’t find him immediately. You shuffle forward in the sand, eyes searching the water. You spot him beneath the surface, easing your anxiety.

With that, you leave him be. You trust that he won’t accidentally drown himself, since he’s the best swimmer out of your group. And he’s going to need some time alone, after losing Mags to the fog in the jungle.

It was quick, you didn’t even have time to intervene. Finnick saw that you were struggling to carry Mags down the slope, after the two of you had switched, because Peeta was entirely too heavy to be leaning on you for support. In the brief break you took to regain your strength, Mags kissed Finnick goodbye and walked straight into the fog.

What happened didn’t register until Finnick was pulling you to your feet, ordering you to grab one side of Peeta, so the two of you could work together. You don’t have to say anything to Finnick to know that he’s hurt, the look on his face alone is a dead giveaway.

You find your melted jumpsuit strewn in the sand, alongside Finnicks and Peetas. It had been ripped off of you by Peeta, who was so desperate to get you in the water, that he’d forgotten how much it’d hurt being submerged. It could’ve been worse, you weren’t covered in nearly as much of the fog as Finnick had been.

You crouch next to Peeta’s suit, flipping it over to find the mockingjay pin still holding on tightly. You unhook it from his clothes, and move to pin it to the front of your undershirt to hold onto it for him. You then reach to touch the gold necklace to make sure that it’s still hanging around your neck.

The floatation belts seem to have not been affected by the fog at all. They look brand new, actually. You pull it around your waist, buckling it back on. As much as you’d wish to leave it, you’re not the best swimmer in the alliance. Peeta and Finnick are far better, which is why they’ll feel comfortable enough to leave theirs behind.

You stand again, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the soreness throughout your body. And then, you reach to pull the hair tie out to let your hair down, which has been severely damaged by the fog. Barely touching it, clumps come out, stuck between your fingers. The sight is only slightly nauseating. You comb your hair the best you can, watching as the collection grows. When it seems to have slowed, you pull your hair back into a ponytail, and fling the dead hair into the trees.

Speaking of which, Peeta’s found a good one ten yards in from the beach. You can hardly see him through the trees, but the sound of him drilling is unmistakable. You keep an eye on him the best you can, but Finnick splashing around is distracting.

He stretches, slowly, testing his limbs to see if they’re working properly. Gradually, he begins to swim, which is mesmerizing to watch. It’s nothing like the way you were taught to. There’s a rhythm, a pace. He dives, surfaces, rolls like a log of wood in water. He sprays from his mouth, and then he’ll sit underwater for minutes at a time.

When he finally comes back up, he looks better than he did earlier. He pushes his hair out of his face, walking in your direction.

You offer him a smile, “Feeling better?”

“Considerably.” He says, eyes finding the pin on your tank top. He touches it, squinting slightly. “Left the token, huh?”

“He knew I’d grab it.” You wave him off. “Let’s go help him, he’s going to need the spile.”

Finnick leads the way into the jungle, you follow behind him, fiddling with the necklace. He holds the trident to his side, the pole bouncing off his thigh when he takes steps too hard. You briefly look away to pop the locket clasp open, suddenly afraid that the fog might’ve damaged the delicate photos inside. You slam straight into Finnick’s back, having to catch yourself on his shoulder.

A question raises on your tongue, but he presses a finger against his lips to keep you quiet. He looks upward, into the branches that belong to the trees that hang above you lowly. You follow his gaze curiously, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of what’s been watching you.

You press your lips together, your left hand falling from your necklace, and your right readjusting the sword in your hand. There’s a mass of orange monkeys weighing down the branches. More than just five or ten, there’s easily two dozen, sitting there, waiting for one wrong move.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen them. There was a pair of them right after you’d escaped the fog, Peeta had pointed them out. Those ones retreated, not wanting anything to do with the three of you. These ones don’t have any intentions on leaving.

“Peeta,” Your voice wavers slightly, Finnick glances at you. You take a breath, “I need your help with something on the beach.”

“Just a minute (Y/n). I think I’ve just about got it.” He tells you, still occupied with the tree. “Have you got the spile?”

“I do, but we’ve found something you might want to see.” You murmur, noticing how the monkeys are reacting to Peeta’s movements. They don’t care if you move. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”

“I don’t want to lose the tree.”

“We won’t, we’ll be right back.” You tell him, motioning for him to come toward you.

He lets out a sigh, but listens. You chew on the inside of your cheek, listening to the noise he’s making. Still, the monkeys don’t move, because that’s not what causes them to be aggressive. He’s only five yards from the beach, when his movements become stiff, eyes darting up for a second.

It’s enough. The shrieking begins, as the monkeys all begin to move at an impossible speed to jump at him. They slide down vines, leaping large distances, fangs bared, claws shooting out. One word comes to mind.

“Mutts!” You snap, shoving past Finnick to get to Peeta.

You swing the sword carelessly, hitting the vital parts of the monkeys the best you can with the amount flying out of the trees. When you make it to Peeta, the two of you switch weapons, him slapping the knife into your hand for you to take so he can begin to do real damage with the sword.

Peeta’s got a better technique, bringing down almost as much as Finnick is with the trident. He’ll spear the mutts, and then fling them aside, off into the trees. The three of you form a triangle formation, trying to kill them efficiently. Only, you can’t keep up with your knife, they’re forced to cover you.

You feel a pair of teeth sink into your thigh before Peeta’s slicing through the throat, forcing the jaws to unhinge. The air grows heavy, from the trampled plants, the scent of blood, and the musty stink of the monkey mutts that hound you.

Peeta swings at one of them, and instead of landing the hit, the monkey secures the sword, and throws it into the trees, permanently making it out of the question. Then, it grabs a tight hold of Peeta’s arm, and swings him out of the formation, in the open. Where another monkey spots this, sprinting for the kill.

You begin to run for him, throwing the knife at the mutt that’s racing you. The mutt manages to dodge the attack, and you’re about to throw yourself at Peeta to save him, when someone else beats you to it, first. A woman materializes out of a tree, screaming loudly as she throws herself into the monkey, arms wrapping around its body.

It sinks its fangs into her chest.

Finnick’s trident hits the monkey with such force that it makes a loud squelching sound when the trident collides with its body. The mutt releases its jaw, Peeta kicking the body off.

“Come on, then!” Peeta shouts. “Come on!”

The mutts don’t seem to be interested anymore, retreating into the trees the same way they had done before. You reach to grab Peeta, hands shaking, when he suddenly points toward the beach, eyes hard.

“Go.”

Your mouth pops open, eyebrows drawing in, but you don’t argue, walking the five yards out of the jungle, onto the beach. The two boys follow behind you, with Finnick carrying the woman, who you’re able to recognize as the morphling from District Six, when you get a good look at her.

Finnick lays her in the sound, and Peeta follows behind him with your knife. He kneels next to her, cutting open the wetsuit that covers her chest, revealing the four deep wounds. Her blood is slowly emerging out of them, staining her skin. You’d say she’s fine, if it weren’t for the damage the monkeys did inside of her body.

She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. This could mean a punctured lung, maybe even her heart. Her skin is shaded a sickly green, sagging to reveal each one of her ribs. This is caused by years of abusing the pain medication.

She takes your hand shakily, squeezing tightly to ground herself. You lean over her, moving the hair out of her face.

“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says before walking away.

Peeta settles in the sand, voice soft, “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.”

She stares at Peeta, hanging on to every word.

“One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.”

Her breathing is growing shallow, calming, dying. Her free hand dips into the wound on her chest, touching the blood as she swirls it on her skin, the same way she had in the Training Center.

“I haven’t figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air.”

She lifts up the bloodied hand, painting a flower on Peeta’s cheek.

“Thank you,” He whispers. “That looks beautiful.”

Her face lights up, as she makes a small squeaking sound. And then her hand falls back onto her chest, giving out her last huff of air. The cannon fires. Her hand loosens in yours.

You sit there in the sand, watching as Peeta carries her into the water, carefully settling her on her back. She floats toward the Cornucopia, and when the Gamemakers are sure she’s a good distance away, the hovercraft appears to take her away. The claw drops, carrying her into the night sky, and she’s gone.

You get to your feet when Peeta comes back your way, but with the look on his face, you’re not exactly eager to touch him.

“What were you thinking?” He asks you. “Running at me like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Your mouth opens as you shake your head. “I—the mutt was coming right for you, I thought—”

“You thought what, (Y/n)? You were going to kill it with this?” He asks, holding your knife out for you to see. It’s stained red, sand sticking to the blood that refuses to dry. “Oh no, that’s right, you threw it at the mutt.”

You stare at him. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“No, not okay!” he shouts. “Were you even thinking?”

“I just—”

“I don’t need you trying to be the hero.” He tells you. “I had it handled.”

“I’m sorry, Peeta.”

“Don’t do it again.” He says, shaking his head. “It’s hard enough keeping you safe when you’re not running into danger. So don’t start doing it on purpose.”

“I won’t.”

He looks over your face, judging whether or not you’re being truthful, when his eyes dip toward your chest. His face smooths, holding his hand out, palm up. “Give me the pin.”

Wordlessly, you unhook it from the cloth and place it in his hand. “I didn’t want to lose it.”

“That’s fine.” He says, closing the distance between the two of you. He directs your chin up carefully, raising his eyebrows. “You know I love you.”

“I know.” You whisper. “I’ll be more careful.”

He presses a kiss to the middle of your forehead. “That’s all I ask.”

—

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!! everyone is welcome to join :)

[donttxtathebeach]

masterlist

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ynolan_updates

liked by ynlover, ynanddrewlover, iloveyn and 75k others

yn.nolan_updates Yn's storeis the last couple of days. what does this mean?

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user I saw that you posted, and I thought it was about Yn and Drew, but it was just her rhode obsession.

user for real got my hopes up

ynlover i mean that girl does love her rhode

yn.nolan_updates I know, but like, she never posts about them every day?

user sigh

user jojo have you learned nothing?

user I know for sure Yn and Drew have been hanging out. I mean, it's been a month since their interview dropped, and they have posted on each other on their stories.

user i fear you may be on to something

ynolan_updates THANK YOU

yn.nolan

Jungle-Le'ts Go Back

liked by haileybieber,drewstarkey,ellefanning, and 100k others

yn.nolan life as of late!

@haileybieber @dualipa @drewstarkey @ellefanning @jonothan.nolan @cooperkoch @austinnorth55 @lauraharrier @dakotafanning

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jonothan.nolan glad i got to see you, my tiny dancey

yn.nolan @drewstarkey and @ellefanning literally the best surprise ever.

ellefanning anything for you

drewstarkey you kept saying how much you miss your dad so it only felt right to surprise you with him

user he has met her dad already!

yn.nolan hate to be the bearer of bad news, but my dad litterlay has met everyone I'm friends with.

user girl, let us have this one thing

user they have known eachother for 3 months give or take and he already is surprising her smh.

user i wantto be her friend so bad

user her and cooper on FaceTime I love them

cooperkoch i love how i was already ready and you were just eating

yn.nolan Hey, I was hungry.

dakotafanning oh i love you, yn

yn.nolan i love you, kota

ellefanning excuse me

user elle is like a jealous ex

user everyone say thank you yn for the 4 pictures of Drew

36k

jonathandavisoffical thank you for taking pictures of my man

yn.nolan your welcome jd

austinnorth55 we do drew and i look like little kids watching tv

madelyncline because you are.

drewstarkey 🤨

user maybe @ynolan_updates was not wrong about the rhode thing

ynolan_updates see

haileybieber You really are this generation's girl.

yn.nolan I will be whatever you want me to be.

ynolan_updates OMG

ynolan_updates qqueen,you're glowiing

yn.nolan awe thank you sweetheart

drewstarkey she really is goregeous

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user drew stand up please

user thirsiting on main is wild

user he is actually so real for that though

user be a man and do it again

drewstarkey you're gorgeaus baby

user oh, he actually did it

yn.nolan @drewstarkey we talked about this, im not your baby

drewstarkey you can be

yn.nolan drew, please.

drewstarkey okay, pretty girl.

user Poor Drew can't get out of the friendzone

ellefanning in 30 minutes, she will post something on her close friends about how hot he is.

user not elle airing her business

yn.nolan That is not true, and you know it. stpp talking, matter a fact, get out of my sight

ellefanning girl, you're beign dramatic

yn.nolan I would like for people to not have a false narrative about my relationship with Drew; again, we are just friends.

drewstarkey would i really be that bad?

yn.nolan please take this out of my comment section.

user DREW

user her and drew in the 12th slide WHAT

user they're going to say that they're just friends; please, they filmed their vido in November, it dropped in December, and now they just hang out. I do not buy it one bit.

yn.nolan again Sorry to disappoint, but we are just friends.

user ariana what are you doing here? @dualipa

dualipa she's my lover

by yn.nolan

drewstarkey what even is that picture of me?

yn.nolan You + a hangover = reconnecting with nature. hope that helps

user diva down

ellefannning in the clerb we only listen to lana

yn.nolan what does that even mean?

ellefanning Sometimes I forget you're not chronicallly online

yn.nolan sorry to disappoint

user WAIT yn is on TikTok??

yn.nolan no.........

user I bet she only goes on their for edits of Drew.

yn.nolan guys, My account is private, so you won't find it, and no, I am not on that part of TikTok.

alexconsani my queen

yn.nolan oh how i love you

madelynclineWhen are we hanging out?

drewstarkey she is not free anytime soon

ellefanning get in lineStarkey, I am priority; I am her BEST FRIEND. and as of now, no one occupies the boyfriend role so that is also my job

yn.nolan text me babes, and we will figure it out!

drewstarkey

Peter Bjorn and jhon- Young Folks

liked by yn.nolan, brooke_starkey, jonathandavisoffical, and 78k others

drewstarkey @yn.nolan, reno, and @dazed

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yn.nolan my reno baby

yn.nolan wait, send me those

drewstarkey ok

yn.nolan are you okay?

drewsarkey just peachy

yn.nolan oh.... okay.

user oh, that was hard to see

user poor yn is probably so overwhelmed.

user he is trying so hard

user yn and drew shipeprs are being fed well today

brooke_starkey drew I love you, but maybe tone it down a little.

drewstarkey anything else?

brooke_starkey actually on second thought, do you

madelyncline these are so cute

jonathandavisoffical how mad do you think she will get if i take her dog

drewstarkey i dont know man, thats her baby

yn.nolan not my reno; hes just a baby

user l love their friendship.

user her smile

user drew, Take care of our girl, please; the world has not been kind to her.

user he is pretty tame

user he is slowly becoming a yn fanpage

haileybieber added to their story

big things coming soon

@yn.nolan @kyliejenner @bellahadid

@yn.nolan replied to your story

yn.nolan cannot wait to share this with the world

Abbie's corner

Hi guys, I'm sorry for the long wait. I had some issues occur in my family last week, so I have been trying to get back on my feet, so hopefully I can update more regularly.