#to the point where i straight up almost never talk about it. i refuse to even acknowledge it.

[moe-broey]

No context but I got So distracted. I did not set out to do All That today. I don't even know where the fuck I am anymore. It was all an impulse decision and I didn't even write down the second distraction because it was So Strong. In my mind. But then a second distraction hit my two braincells. I have no idea whwre I am anymore. I was just gonna whip up a shitpost doodle and then go back to my main project. I never even got to the shitpost doodle. 🧍

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ … 99% NOT LOVE ! | kinich x gn!reader

— in which two people notice what two people don't .

— i've gone absolutely batshit over him your honour. im going to now start writing for kinich like a crazed man dying of thirst in the desert. let it be known that streamer!au kinich, enemies to lovers with poacher mc and other ideas are coming up (no im not cheating on xiao shush)

mualani notices it.

"hehe."

and you hear it.

"so! there's a little..." she stares at you with the most serious face you've ever seen on the girl, acting suspiciously unlike herself. gesturing at you with exaggerated hand movements, then pointing toward who knows where, she eyes you. mischievously. "something that's 'going on', yea?"

and at first, you have absolutely no clue what she could be referring to. mualani is a sociable person, after all. her definition of "something" could range anywhere between a particularly cute baby saurian to an out-of-control-bonfire turned wildfire.

with the only eventful thing today being a brief morning surf session with sharky, you just sat there, never having felt more lost.

mualani grabs your shoulders in an iron grip, leaning forward to the point she's almost beginning to seem menacing. you can see the moment where she tries to think over something (which she never does quite successfully) before she straight up shouts:

"ah!! i'll just spell it out for you!! you. and kinich. bestie. spill."

.

.

.

ajaw did more than just "notice" it.

"you..! kIINICH, did you seriously have to-"

"noisy."

"selfish assh- ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE DISRESPECT! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, yOU'VE-"

"once again, ajaw. be quiet."

"sure sure, and pretend i didn't see you and that someone do a little smoochy-smooch, huh?! UGH, now you've asked for it- KINICH AND LOVEY DOVEY, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-"

ajaw was what you would call a "witness". though, most would use that term in regards to one seeing a crime or heinous event take place — this event was nothing of that nature.

well, as far as kinich was concerned, the matter was simple. you'd ventured all the way to scions of the canopy to give him a gift, (claiming it was for the time he'd helped you after a couple of yumkausarus hadn't enjoyed your fruit offering and instead decided to off you), and he'd refused to accept it. he wasn't one to receive reimbursement for others, and he didn't particularly like talking either — it was a well-known fact, almost law in natlan, that if the malipo ignored your words, all you need do was apologize and continue on.

well, you did exactly the opposite.

"no thanks."

"...sorry?"

"i don't need it."

"haha, so 'malipo' kinich's rumored no-nonsense nature really proved to be true! now come over here so i can give you my fucking gift!"

you were rather adamant about giving it to him. the reason? you'd bought the gift on a whim after seeing it being sold by a passing merchant, advertised as "80% only today if you buy within the next like 4 minutes" and you'd immediately dropped every mora you had. it was the most useless little thing ever, and you didn't want it at this point, but.. the deals. how could you return such an item???

naturally, you handed it off to the man you'd seen for a good two minutes before he flew, or did whatever his thing was, away. the man had remembered furrowing his brows the slightest, listening to ajaw's persistent yellings of "IT'S AN OFFERING TO ME, TAKE IT" and feeling an oncoming headache. "i said i didn't.."

as he turned to walk away, three unfortunate(?) things occured.

a rock under your shoe and a very graceful process of falling to the ground

kinich looking back (his mistake)

a kiss...?

oh, and two extra.

4. ajaw had saw it all. 5. and mualani, who had saw you from a distance and was coming to greet you, was faced with a sight she could not process.

...Now that he thought over it again, was the matter really "simple"? kinich's job was what he considered simple — split 70% to investigation, 10% to final decision, and 10% to execution, well portioned and planned out.

then, this...

.

.

.

"girlie, you've seriously got the wrong idea. i'm telling you, we aren't dating!"

"mmmokay. of course! because not-dating people kiss allll the time!"

you paused for a moment, remembering kinich's even tone, stern gaze, and... ah, a face that deserved a gold medal.

"it's only 99% not love, okay mualani? but if it wasn't..."

.

.

.

"... and it's 99% not love, ajaw."

(a/n) darling im back from jail part 2. daddys home part 2. not funny? ok. HIHIHIHI ive bene really built like a sun dried raisin lately but kinich is the healing holy water that has saved me i will write more for him in the future because i love him a stupid amount its like the first time in a decade I've written for just ONE character and AND AND

I THOUGHT HE WOULDNT OCME HOME BECAUSE I ONLY HAD 68 WISHES OUT OF MY ORIGINAL LIKE 100+ AND RUINED MY CHANCES BECAUSE OF REALLY REALLY WANTING MuALANI (i love her sm) BUT. BUT BRO CAME HOME. ON THE FIRST 10 PULL AND WON THE 50/50 JUST LIKE MUALANI DID (or is it 45/55 now idk) LIVE LAUGH LOVE KINICH !!

[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic

( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how clingy sylus copes with your absence

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking

characters: sylus

link to master list here!!!

authors notes: so basically we all love clingy!sylus and i don’t think people talk about it enough, so i here i try to do him some justice </3

i tried not to mischaracterise him, but i find it difficult to imagine how he’d react. he’s a full fledged adult - 27/28 years old - so i can see him trying to be mature about it. but after a while, it gets hard to wait any longer no?

more below the cut!! :3

first few days of your absence sylus is fine, i mean it’s one day - people get busy, people get tired. sylus understands better than most that life gets tough.

he checks his messages maybe two or three times to see if you’ve responded, but nothing. that’s okay, he’ll wait for you.

after five-ish days he’s a little irritated, how could you forget about him for that long?

yeah you could be busy, but seriously?

he gives you a call but it sends straight to voicemail, to which he refuses to leave one.

i bet he secretly feels a little embarrassed at how much your absence is bothering him, and out of spite he refuses to check his phone during the day.

“Tsk, ignoring me?”

luke and kieran definitely notice his small shift in attitude - his nonchalant facade isn’t perfect after all.

they are also secretly cursing you for disappearing, i mean come on! how could you leave them with an angry boss!!

another few days pass, how long has it been since he last saw you? a week?

gets fidgety and cracks, calling you again - no reply.

when he gets sent to voicemail he speaks in his typical, slow tone.

“Why aren’t you picking up my calls, kitten? Get back to me when you listen to this.”

despite his seemingly calm voice, he’s starting to really lose his cool. your absence was unsettling, and yeah he’s disappeared before for a few days on business, he at least picks up calls.

he never leaves you clueless for even a few days, let alone a whole week.

mephisto is sent out for surveillance of the n109 zone, and sylus keeps his phone close. always in his vision, hearing range, whatever.

every notification catches his attention, eyes snapping to the illuminated screen only to slowly drag away when he sees it isn’t you.

from the first to second week of your absence, his irritability shoots up. sylus is getting agitated, brushing it off as annoyance.

after all, what the fuck did he do for you to ignore him for this long?

he texts you almost every day now, the texts getting increasingly shorter, decreasingly floral and more concerned.

“Kitten, why aren’t you picking up my calls?”

“[YN], are you really ignoring me?”

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“Call me.”

he’s calling you every other day now, his sleeping schedule is deteriorating and his mind isn’t focused.

sylus is getting angry at himself, why is he so messed up about this? so what if you haven’t spoken to him in 13 days, isn’t it pathetic to be so affected by your absence?

he lived 27+ years without you, he can live another hundred without.

yet he still finds himself rearranging the plushies you two caught together, checking for your messages, scrolling through your posts.

almost a month has passed since your disappearance, and sylus isn’t getting any better.

why did you go? are you okay? did you get hurt?

god forbid something happened to you.

he’s hired some people to search for you, fuck waiting he’s worried.

finds himself drinking more alcohol with his meals than usual, to the point where even he - a heavy weight - feels his head becoming a little dizzy, his hands twitching for his phone.

one night, after downing a bottle of wine himself, he calls you at least five times, before leaving a voicemail.

his voice lacks its usual slow, bored tone. instead his words are a little slurred, his voice seems a little higher pitched - not too much but it is noticeable - and he’s speaking a little faster too.

“[YN]? Where are you, are you okay? Please pick up, it’s been a month. Do you really- have I deterred you? I know you dislike me, have you ran away? If you have, then at least tell me you’re alive. I mi-”

he catches himself before he says it, because he’s just realised something, something that was so blatantly obvious he feels shocked that he hadn’t noticed it

he misses you, he isn’t angry. he isn’t annoyed that you disappeared, he’s upset.

the fact that it took so long for him to realise is stupid, and all he can do it sit and chuckle drunkenly to himself.

“I miss you, [YN]. Please call me back.”

when you finally call him - exactly 43 days since you left - he almost scrambles to his phone

sylus picks up immediately, yet miraculously finds himself at a loss for words. what does someone say after over a month of waiting?

kind of just stands there, frozen - if you wait before speaking you can hear his almost shaky breaths

“Hey Sylus, you miss me? You left over 13 voicemails and 65 texts, I’m touched.”

gods your voice smoothed over his tense muscles like honey

he sits down, heart beating faster than usual. it’s stupid how much hearing your voice affected him, but he couldn’t help the way his body relaxed at the sound.

if he was a dog his tail would be wagging so fucking hard

“Come here, now.”

when you do arrive, you seriously expect to get killed or something. his tone sounded seriously pissed - i mean like the most pissed you’ve ever heard it

but when you open the door you just get swallowed into a chest and a pair of arms

if you try to move away or struggle, they just hold you tighter and restrict your actions and- oh, sylus is hugging you.

his face is angled down into your head, and you can’t see his expression - only the beating of his heart against you, and it was fast.

“Where the fuck were you? I missed you.”

explain whatever the hell you want to sylus, he’s already decided that you’re not going out without him knowing ever again

probably tries to download some sort of GPS tracker on your hunter’s watch to make sure he knows where you are

TLDR; sylus doesn’t realise how much he really cares for you until you go MIA for over a month in which he starts to genuinely tweak out! :3

AN; guys i actually spat this out in like an hour i think i might have clingy!sylus brain rot because oh my god anyways this isn’t proof read i just needed to express my love for clingy!sylus that gets worried because he isn’t just a dominant badass gang leader he’s also human and he also gets sad and upset and feels emotions argahdbansn he just sucks at recognising his own desires (get it because his evol eye can see other people’s desires but he can’t see his own :3)

[hiddenreamers]

F1 Drivers x foreign!reader

SUMMARY: When they know social norms and the local language, sometimes it might be hard to spot a foreigner. Even then, there are details to their daily life that might give away their heritage. Whether they're strange, funny or heartwarming, it doesn't really matter. Your boyfriend wouldn't have it any other way.

Featuring: Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Daniel Ricciardo (it's my delulu I set the rules), Max Verstappen, Carlos Sainz Jr, Charles Leclerc, George Russell, Oscar Piastri

Note: I'm a Polish gal, so the examples I've used are quite specific and probably not universal

Lando Norris

You're unsure if his terrible pronunciation is genuine or just a ploy to make you laugh. As time goes on, you're leaning towards the latter. The comedic timing of throwing out mispronounced random phrases and words is almost too perfect to be accidental. Considering the cultural differences, you have your quirks and superstitions that are largely funny and meaningless to him. Despite his lack of understanding, he adheres to them like the letter of the law (except speed limits, of course). While it might seem pointless to him that you have to knock on "something unpainted" after talking about misfortune, Lando will never make fun of you for it. He might laugh, yes, but he just finds those little rituals endearing. Secretly learns to say "I love you" in your first language but this time, he wants his pronunciation to be impeccable. He really means it, after all.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been showing genuine curiosity from the very beginning. While he wants to get to know you better as a person, he also wants to know more about your home. Consequently, Lewis jumps at any opportunity to travel with you to your native country. When you're pointing out different buildings as well as memories associated with them, he feels like he's getting a better understanding of who you are and why. Like Lando, he's mindful of the cultural quirks and sticks to them but doesn't find them as funny. While he's well aware you don't expect him to follow them, Lewis still refuses to kiss you over the threshold once you tell him it's said to bring bad luck. He's not going to risk it, is he?

Daniel Ricciardo

The ever-charming man is interested only in learning swear words and pick-up lines in your native language. Not very surprising. Even less surprising is the fact that you might have (on at least one occasion) taught him nonsense or a silly phrase while claiming it's something sexy or romantic. He is yet to be corrected that a certain phrase is not a heartfelt confession but a simple question of "Where is my sauerkraut?". There's something impossibly attractive about you speaking your mother tongue, according to Daniel. You could read aloud a random Wikipedia entry and he's down bad by the second verse.

Max Verstappen

Practical as always, Max has learnt to read your first language just to occasionally help. You're busy and someone is texting you? Maybe you forgot the next ingredient or step for the recipe but your hands are dirty? Max is there to help. Despite not much practice, his pronunciation is really good. He does, however, have a secret. All the random things he's been reading for you? They got him familiar with the language, at least the basics. Still, Max pretends that he doesn't understand 99% of what he's reading for you because he doesn't want to miss out on all the ego-stroking "Max is wonderful!!" messages you receive from friends and family. The king of keeping a straight face. He's so used to hearing you refer to him by pet names in another language that when he hears it in a movie you're watching, he instinctively looks towards you.

Carlos Sainz Jr

Similarly to Max, Carlos has picked up some of your mother tongue. Pretends he doesn't because he's living for the gossip you exchange with your friends. Most of all, he HAS to know what you're talking about after hearing you say his name. Are you happy with him? Does he fulfil your needs? Although each time you're gushing over him, he can't help his curiosity. Carlos might or might not have overheard you talking to your friends about a sexual fantasy and later on used that knowledge to his advantage. But if anyone asks, he doesn't know more than a "hello" in your first language.

Charles Leclerc

Like many multilingual people, you have a habit of directly translating sayings and idioms or just getting confused about which ones work in what language. Funnily enough, Charles unknowingly picked up some of the phrases you use. He realises only when someone gives him a strange look for saying "happy as a whistle". On another occasion he says somebody "stuck to him like thistle to a dog's tail", which sparked a landslide of memes. Charles insists on you calling him pet names in your first language exclusively. He claims they sound more loving when you say them in your mother tongue but maybe he's suffering from the same ailment as Daniel Ricciardo...

George Russell

As adorable as they are, George's random questions can get slightly annoying. He might be working you up on purpose, not that he'd ever admit. This man has a curious tendency to suddenly point to a random object and ask you what's it called in your native language. When you tell him, he exposes you to possibly the worst attempt at repeating the word. George is trying his best, okay? He might not be able to pronounce or write it but when you say it, he quickly learns to recognize the word. This has lead to seemingly strange situations when you can't remember the English expression and say it in your mother tongue, while George without a problem gives you the answer or passes you the item. Some of the other drivers are now convinced he knows your first language and George somehow can't find the right occasion to correct them. After secretly practising, he says "I love you" in your mother tongue and despite the rather awful pronunciation, it's the best thing you've ever heard. It's not flawless but it's perfect.

Oscar Piastri

Similarly to Lewis, he's genuinly curious about your homecountry. The difference is, Oscar is more leaning towards the literature and pop-culture side of things. He has a list of books, poems, movies and plays that are considered important to your homeland. If there are English translations, he'll at least try to read them (on a few occasions he's settled for the cheat sheets and summaries). Multiple times Oscar has talked you into reading the original to him and afterwards claimed that despite understanding nothing, that's his favourite version. Movies, however, he wants to watch with you. It's a cozy date, yes. But! It is also an opportunity to learn more as you have a tendency to pause the film and explain jokes, give broader context or share a fun fact about something on the screen. Through all of that, he learns certain unspoken social rules and superstitions. You tell him he really doesn't have to follow them for your sake when you notice he refuses to put your bag on the floor or switches seats with you if you sit at the corner of the table.

[armageddidnt]

Welcome to My Collection of Random Thoughts during my nth* rewatch of Good Omens Season 2

*only amazon prime knows the exact number at this point but I’m fairly certain it’s in the double digits

Episode 1: Gabriel’s fly lurking in the box when Aziraphale first takes it inside 👀

Crowley’s promise of “two minutes” basically means that he’s been homeless and living in his car for the past 4 years strictly so that he can be within 2 driving minutes of Aziraphale at all times in case his angel needs him I’m not crying you are

So here I think the key word is “fragile,” Crowley knows they are ostensibly safe from their respective sides but that could change at any moment so he’s basically spent the last 4 years in anxiety-ridden terror hovering as close to Aziraphale as he can to try and protect him from heaven, hell, and anyone else that would want to bring him harm after all that business they pulled in season 1 with stopping Armageddon

Episode 2: I just happened to pause the episode while Aziraphale is lying to the angels about his miracle and LOL Michael really outdid himself here (Sheen, not the Archangel)

Gabriel trying to swat flies and almost smashing the repository of every single one of his memories

I’m cAckling

So if Good Omens exists in Good Omens, does that mean Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett exist in Good Omens?? Do you think they based their Aziraphale and Crowley characters on Aziraphale and Crowley??

Episode 3: So I’m trying to find any hints or foreshadowing of the Gabriel Beelzebub thing bc tbh I did kind of feel like it came out of nowhere which is really the only issue I have with them. I found this one scene where Beelzebub almost ?? seems to be concerned about Gabriel ?? But it’s blink and you miss it and there could be lots of other reasons why Beelzebub doesn’t want to fail in locating Gabriel (pressure from/leverage over heaven, etc) so idk

More Foreshadowing Fly content 🪰

Episode 4: So here we’ve seen that Shax can just appear inside the Bentley bc she did it earlier to talk to Crowley. Shax only pretended to be a hitchhiker so she could be invited in because Azirpahale was driving so technically she needed permission to cross the threshold of an angel 👀

This scene will never not destroy me the 1941 flashback is the absolute sOFTEST thing ever to happen on this show

We really need more context here I need to see the Crowley-Furfur Monkey Rides

Episode 5: ahahaha thank you google translate for absolutely destroying my sanity this evening

POP goes the Ziraphale

Okay I know you can’t hear it in the gif but just before Nina takes Maggie’s hand, there’s a very quiet miracle noise, like Azirpahale literally MADE Nina dance with Maggie, he said I’m writing a Mina Jane-Austen-Ball-AU and my otp will KISS godDAMMIT

Azirpahale seems lowkey kind of manic this whole scene tho, he’s controlling literally everyone to force Nina and Maggie together and whenever Crowley says anything that pokes holes in Aziraphale’s Magical Jane Austen Ball Fairytale, Aziraphale just straight up denies it. He wants Nina and Maggie to dance and he wants him and Crowley to dance and he refuses to acknowledge anything beyond that.

Is this just Shax insulting Crowley for how much of a nuisance he’s been or a reference to his former status as an angel ???

They’re both completely dismissive of each other when they’re trying to say something important and that’s the main issue they’ve been having this entire season tbh

Episode 6: I think it’s funny that Crowley describes the angels as bees here because in the book, Neil/Terry describe humans the same way. Guess we have more in common than we thought huh?

So the metatron was the one who originally decided Gabriel would be memory wiped and not sent to hell, and he was also the one that decided not to sound an alarm about Gabriel for some reason and said ‘just go find him yourself’ instead. The metatron has definitely got his own agenda and you can bet he doesn’t want Aziraphale up there in heaven because he’s a “leader” and he’s “honest” like that’s exactly what Gabriel was and look where it got him 👀

There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on about the metatron bringing Aziraphale a coffee from “give me coffee or give me death” and then asking Aziraphale if he’s going to take the coffee he’s giving him…

I have not seen a single person talk about this since s2 came out but Nina literally calls Maggie “angel” because that’s the term of endearment they hear Crowley using for Aziraphale !!!! I’m still going fERAL over this and I can’t believe no one else is eitHER

Something about this part of The Final Fifteen compared to this scene from the first episode is so representative of the entire season. Azirpahale keeps saying “my way or get out” and Crowley finally hits a wall and can follow Aziraphale no further. So he does just that. He goes.

I’m sure a lot of us by now have seen this post that brings up how Aziraphale literally pushes the remains of Crowley into his mouth and swallows and it’s the only thing I see when I watch this now

We still don’t know for certain if Crowley queued up this song to play on their way to the Ritz or if the Bentley started playing it all on its own and it’s driving me insane

Basically how I am doing after my Truly-Alarming-Number-th watch of this traumatizing episode/season. WELP hope you enjoyed this garbage dump of my thoughts and feelings time to go cry for a bit again BYE

[hazbinwhoree]

May I request a scenario where Adam and reader are in a marriage and domestic life, like how he is with reader being pregnant, gave birth, and what he is like as a parent?

Is the request OK? This the first time I make a request so please correct me if I made a mistake here.

Domestic Life

A/N: It was easiest to do this in headcanon format.

Adam is far from the perfect husband

But he’s trying, he really is

He has a breeding kink, so it’s not long into your marriage before you got pregnant

When you tell him, he thinks you’re joking

“HAH! Good one, babe.”

You literally have to convince him

Once he believes you, he’s incredibly nervous

Yeah he had a breeding kink but he never really planned on kids

Eventually he comes around

Is actually really doting during your pregnancy

The way he looks at it, you’re sacrificing your body for nine months to bring his spawn into the world so of course he was going to dote on you

You’re incredibly nervous about your due date, knowing child birth was the worst pain a woman could naturally experience, but Adam didn’t really understand your fear

“Think of it like you’re taking a shit but it’s from your vagina.”

Thanks Adam, very helpful

Always comes up behind you later in the pregnancy and locks his hands under your stomach, lifting slightly, taking the weight off your back

The first time he did it you teared up in relief

Adam made a point to do it a lot more after that

When it comes time to deliver the baby, Adam is shocked at the process

There’s so much blood and screaming and Adam is almost one of those dads who pass out

Feels like a dick for not taking your fear seriously

Holds your hand the whole time and stays up near your head

He gets sick if he looks at what’s going on between your legs

Tries to be comforting and encouraging but he’s so bad at it

Eventually shuts up and just lets you squeeze the life out of his hand

He brushed your hair back and off of your sweaty forehead with his free hand

There are complications with your delivery, you lost a lot of blood

You start losing color and becoming sluggish and Adam yells at the doctors

They try to escort him out but he straight up refuses

Adam is terrified not only of losing you, but of being a single parent

He knew without you he would fuck your child up

Luckily for everyone, you pulled through

Adam is more concerned about you than he is his child

Doesn’t leave your side even to cut the umbilical cord

Leaves that to the doctors

But once you’re lucid again you’re asking about your baby and Adam doesn’t have any answers because he was too concerned with you

He doesn’t even know the gender

The doctors bring you your baby and when Adam sees him, your son, in your arms, he falls in love with him too

That doesn’t help the looming thought that he’d be a terrible father though

As soon as he finds out it’s a son, he wants to name him Adam

You allow it

Adam wants to be an active father, he does, but he really is bad at it

If you want him to take any night shifts, you have to wake him up because the baby’s crying won’t

He makes pervy comments when you breastfeed

“Me next?”

Adam is very happy and proud that he has a son

You catch him baby talking sometimes but he’ll always deny it

He doesn’t have too much trouble bonding with your son

He learns to love him as much as he loves you

Almost cries at your son’s first steps

Also denies this

Your son’s first word is “fuck”

You really try to get Adam to clean up his language after that but Adam thinks it’s hilarious

Your baby’s second word is “bitch”

He may not be the best father but he is a loving one

[aimedis]

redacted asmr hcs pt. 7 - d.a.m.n crew edition

-ironically, damien can’t handle spicy food (and funnily enough, lasko can)

-damien used to wear huxley’s jacket to his games (afterwards, huxley would always find damien so he could give him the biggest hug ever)

-gavin and freelancer can have conversations without actually saying anything, just by making little faces at each other (not even through telepathy or demon magic, they're just that in tune with each other)

-freelancer has the cutest sneeze and the guys never fail to let them know 

-the d.a.m.n crew all collectively agree that freelancer is just the sweetest person ever (for freelancer's birthday, they all made a 50+ page detailed as fuck slideshow on why they were the best friend/partner ever) ((they cried a lot that day))

-damien hates the rain (not even because of his powers or anything he just genuinely does not like rainy weather)

-gavin quite literally being the embodiment of thinking with his dick 

-freelancer is always in gavin’s lap 

-freelancer and gavin have necklaces with the other’s initial/name on it (they're literally call it what you want by taylor swift)

-whenever lasko makes dirty jokes it’s always unintentional (in a ‘letting the intrusive thoughts win’ way) and he always acts shocked he said what he said afterwards ((he’s subconsciously learned to not have much of a filter around the d.a.m.n squad and it only got worse after being with dear))

-caelum rifts into gavin and freelancer’s bedroom and jumps on top of them to cuddle for a little (he loves falling asleep on freelancer’s chest)

-gavin knew the exact moment damien and huxley got together and was just silently proud of and happy for them 

-lasko and coworker as a hurricane & damien and huxley as a volcano

-gavin and freelancer spoil the other so much 

-the d.a.m.n squad have cuddle piles 

-freelancer is obsessed with mac and cheese (same) 

-coworker tells all their students to just call them by their name without miss/mister because it makes them feel hella old

-gavin and freelancer calling each other “bitch”

-freelancer was the first friend damien had to make him feel truly loved

-whenever lasko’s partner runs their fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly it puts him straight to sleep

-lasko and damien get into political debates (arguments about which of their favourite books/movies is better) ((they also just bicker really often)) 

-damien ruffles freelancer’s hair like an older brother would

-the damn group have pool parties at huxley and damien’s house pretty often (freelancer wears bikini bottoms and gavin spends the whole day trying to flirt with them)

-freelancer gets stomach aches so often to the point where huxley asks them if their stomach hurts today every time they meet up 

-dear has a habit of lying about the most random things for no reason. it's not even believable but they just talk with the straightest face and when you ask "really?" they say "no, wtf?" ("yeah i used to be a gymnast. i won like three national titles" "oh my god really? that's awe-" "no.") ((they think it's the funniest thing in the world))

-huxley wipes stuff (food, dust etc.) off of damien’s face for him. outright refuses to let him do it for himself 

-freelancer refers to the crew as their bitches (they're not wrong)

-dear is the most calming presence anyone has been around (damien falls asleep around/on them so often)

-the first time dear called lasko babe/baby he literally almost passed out from how much blood rushed to his face (huxley may or may not have witnessed it and had to fan his face for several minutes)

-freelancer, lasko and damien have little trio dates

-freelancer moans at random to be funny and damien has actually started fighting them for it

-the crew has karaoke fairly often (they can all sing pretty well but sometimes they just choose to sing terribly)

-because damien and freelancer have the most sibling-like relationship in the group, they fight quite often. the arguments aren't always awful but they get bad occasionally (they went no contact for almost a week until dear decided to play mediator and forced them to talk it out)

-lasko doodles the group in different art styles in his free time (gavin found the drawings and said it was cute before lasko could start panicking)

-the crew has made a habit out of hanging out in lasko and dear's offices during breaks, even if neither of them are inside

-since freelancer was the last to graduate, everyone showed up to their ceremony and they all screamed louder than anyone else in the crowd

-the crew welcomed dear into the group so easily it's like they've always been apart of the family

-however, the moment that officially solidified them as one of them was the first time they cried in front of them all after about a year of meeting (it was the anniversary of their grandfather's death and they couldn't hold it together)

-lasko is a billion times more confident on his private instagram and twitter accounts

-freelancer goes into a food coma whenever they're even slightly full so after every friendsgiving meal, they take a nap on the couch for like half an hour

-dear and damien are the resident chefs of the group (the first time dear cooked around them all, damien swore for half a second he was in love with them)

-dear is the true mom friend of the group

damihux are bokuaka coded whooo said that?????

[marveicinematics]

the roommate (natasha x reader, smut)

Summary : You get a little too nosy about your roommate’s life, and she decides to make you forget about all your questions.

Pairing : Nathasha Romanoff x female reader.

Words : 1,345.

TW : Smut. Dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, squirting.

Note : Repost from a post I unwillingly deleted!

“Where have you been?“ You shouted when Natasha walked inside the apartment, shoving her bag against the wall before sitting down on the couch.

“Nowhere.“

Natasha had been your roommate for three weeks, now. Most of the time, the two of you had fun. It was nights out with drinks, watching Netflix all day long, ordering pizza while chatting about your ex-lovers and experiences. You found out about pieces of her life, mostly insignificant details. Like, that one time she had a threesome with two girls in a luxury hotel bathroom. Details that were described enough for you to start soaking your panties right next to her, sitting on the damn couch.

Natasha was attractive. No, she was stunning and hot and mostly fuckable. You stopped counting the number of times you pleasured yourself thinking about her body and how sassy she was. Her whole attitude was making you weak on your knees, and you stopped trying to hide it, at some point.

But Natasha was hiding so much from you. One of the things she refused to tell you was where she was, when she disappeared for days.

“You know I almost called the cops, right? It’s been almost a week.“

“Missing me, babe?“ She teased, a smirk on her face as your cheeks turned a warmer shade of red hearing the pet name she just gave you.

“I was worried.“ You replied, crossing your arms against your chest.

The seriousness emanating from your stance must have cool her down, because she sighed loudly, and left the living room, walking straight toward her bedroom.

“Natasha, wait!“ You shouted, following her, determined to find out what your roommate was up to.

She simply ignored your plead, entering the bedroom without giving you a look. When you arrived, Natasha was standing nearby her bed, her t-shirt shoved on the floor, revealing a push-up bra you had never seen before. It wasn’t the first time you saw Natasha half-naked, but you couldn’t help to stop and stare. Fuck, she was the definition of sex appeal.

“Like what you see, babe?“

She must have noticed your reaction, because she didn’t look as bothered from your presence, now. Her smirk was back on her face and this sparkle in her eyes would let you know that she wasn’t going to let you go this easily.

“I’m sorry, we will talk later.“ You mumbled, taking a step back as Natasha was walking towards you.

“Oh, come on.“ She said, closing the space in between you. “You seem so stressed, lately. Let me take care of you, just for once, okay? You know I’m good at this.“

You froze. It wasn’t because of the fact that she mentioned that you looked stressed lately, despite the fact that you hadn’t seen her in days. It wasn’t because of the way her hand grabbed your shorts to push them down your legs, revealing your panties. No, you froze because no matter how many times you had thought about Natasha fucking you senseless, hearing her say it made your pussy clenched faster than ever before.

“Oh, my god. Someone’s wet already.“

You didn’t even realize how her fingers disappeared between your bodies before she actually touched you. Right there, rubbing your clit through the fabric of the panties, making moan louder than you should have. She was right, you were already wet for her. And you had no idea how to control it.

Your mouth found hers, and it was really your only reaction. Kissing her, tasting her pink lips for the first time, so she wouldn’t say anything that would make you dripping wet in a matter of seconds. Natasha reciprocated the kiss so fiercely, as if she had been waiting for it. Maybe she was. You were, at least. You thought about it every time she smiled, every time she bit down her lower lip, every time you heard moans coming from her room and you knew she had her own hand buried deep between her thighs.

You were getting sweaty just from the kiss and the way her fingers worked wonders against your panties. Taking one step back, you took your shirt off, revealing your naked chest. Once again, that sparkle in Nat’s eyes. You knew you were in for a good time. Laying down on her bed, you spread your legs as wide as you could. She crawled on the bed, right between your thighs, and it was the most erotic vision you ever had. Her expert hands took your panties off your body and, before you knew it, her mouth was against your pussy, devouring it.

“Fuck, Nat!“ You screamed as you felt her tongue licking your slits eagerly, eyes locked with yours. “That’s so hot, baby.“

You felt her fingers tightening against your thighs, probably leaving bruises along the way, but you loved it. Eyes rolling back and heart racing, you felt Nat’s tongue entering your cunt as deep as she could. It wasn’t just a guess, you already knew this would be the best fuck of your life.

“Oh god, yes. Keep going, please.“

You didn’t even know why you were so talkative. As if she was going to stop. Her fingers started massaging your clit, and soon enough she was ruthlessly touching it, sending shivers down your spine.

“Wait,“ you tried to speak between loud moans, feeling your pussy clench around her tongue already. “You’re gonna... You’re gonna make me cum.“

It didn’t seem to stop her. Her tongue left your pussy, only for two of her fingers to dive deep inside you, curling just a little, exactly how you needed it — right there. Fingering you as hard as she could, her second hand was still abusing your swollen clit. You felt it build, stronger and stronger, deep inside yourself. It wasn’t like any orgasm you had before. It was deep and strong, it was taking its time, making you scream in anticipation. She took you right there, on the edge of the most breath-taking orgasm. Your legs trembling already, the sound of her fingers slamming inside your wet pussy, your heavy breath as you felt everything around you spin.

And you came, squirting on her bed in a way you never even knew was possible. You came hard, screaming incoherent words as her fingers kept fucking you.

“That’s it, baby“ you heard her say, “let it all out“. And her fingers wouldn’t stop, even when you thought you were done.

“Natasha, I can’t...— Oh my god, oh my god, yes.“

She didn’t stop, even after you finished squirting. Her fingers covered with your orgasm, she kept fucking your oversensitive pussy harder than before. You felt it build again inside you, so quickly. There was no way she was making you cum again, was there?

“Once again, be a good girl, yeah?“

You don’t even know why you nodded, whispering “yes“. You were just lost in pleasure and sensations you had never ever felt before. The orgasm was nearing again, and Natasha could feel it. While she fingered you a little slower, her tongue found your clit, licking it up and down expertly. Once again, your eyes rolled back. And once again, you knew she was going to make you cum. Hard.

One of your hand grabbed her hair, pushing her face against your needy cunt. You wanted to cum, you needed it. Your hips started to thrust back at her fingers’ pace, feeling them slamming harder and deeper inside you. Damn, she was hitting that spot again.

“Fuck, I’m coming again. Baby, don’t stop, I’m coming again!“

It was only a matter of seconds, and you were riding your second orgasm. Not as strong as the first one, but enough for you to see stars and heavens.

“Oh! Fuck!“ You screamed shamelessly. “Natasha, fuck fuck fuck fuck yes!“

Your dirty mouth seemed to amuse her. When you opened your eyes again, she was staring down at you, smirking again.

“Up for round two, babe?“

That’s when you knew. Natasha would not let you sleep, tonight.

[gay-dorito-dust]

can I request jealous Wednesday x fem reader? Wednesday gets jealous of Xavier and the reader so she's more passive aggressive than usual and has the urge to pull pranks on Xavier. But when Wednesday sees reader and Xavier painting the reader chases after her

Summary: Wednesday is reluctant to accept that she’s jealous of your friendship with Xavier until it all comes ahead.

A/n: Also due to the fact of how fucking long I made this fic, I had to relegate pranks (plural) to a singular prank. I rambled a little bit ngl.

Wednesday hated the gut feeling she’d get whenever she saw you and Xavier within extreme close proximity of one another; As though you were trying to fuse into one being with how pressed against one another you were. It felt like she had a stone stuck in her stomach that refused to dissolve and was starting to cause external as well as internal issues the longer it went unresolved. Normally Wednesday viewed herself above expressing emotions should they not provide beneficial results to her in the long run for the remainder of her stay at Nevermore, or everyday life in general.

However it seemed to Wednesday that you were the peculiar exception to this golden rule she had lived by since the passing of her pet scorpion. She felt fluttery in her chest whenever you laughed, her clothed skin burned with the remnants of your accidental touches and she felt most anticipating when she made plans with you after classes. You’ve managed to brought fourth emotions Wednesday long thought she had killed in order of bettering herself whether you were aware of your effect or not.

She hated it, she hated not being in control of her emotions and by that logic, Wednesday should hate you for being the reason for her lack of self control but she didn’t. Instead she directed all her hatred towards Xavier to the point that castration was a considered punishment but knowing how Nevermore operates; Wednesday knew that short of thing would’ve be allowed to fly without repercussions. ‘A pity really,’ she thought to herself as she maintained eye contact with the back of Xavier’s head as he playfully nudged you with his shoulder, ‘a shame even.’

Enid wished she could see the inner workings of Wednesday’s head but with how brutally she was stabbing the lunch table with her blunt knife, she quickly changed her mind in fear of that knife being directed at her next. “Wednesday, remember what we talked about when we get urge to stab something.” Enid spoke hesitantly as she tried to safely remove the knife away from Wednesday’s hand. When it was brought down harder then the previous times, blade lodged deeply within the table that once Wednesday lets go of the handle, the knife however remained standing straight up. Her eyes never departing from you nor Xavier as they blazed with silent fury. “Keep stabbing until it stops moving.” She replied blankly before standing up.

“Hey! Wednesday! Where are you going-“ Enid tried calling out to her friend when her words got caught up in her throat when her eyes followed the direction she was heading; You and Xavier. “Oh no.” Enid whispered as she rushed after Wednesday in hope of preventing someone’s (read: Xavier’s) death. “I do not want to be caught in the midst of a murder today, I just got these clothes recently and blood would not go well with them.” She rambled under her breath as nervousness got the better of her when she finally managed to catch up with Wednesday who was looking straight at you.

“Y/n.”

“Oh shit.” you almost jumped out of your chair at the sudden voice beside you had Xavier not caught you by the shoulders to stabilise you. Giving the boy your thanks you looked to your side of the table to see Wednesday and Enid standing there. “Hey Wednesday! Hey Enid, what’s up? Me and Xavier here were just-“ “I need you to come over to my-“ “our” Enid interrupted, flashing a smile when Wednesday looked at her with almost murderous intent before bringing her attention back to you. “Our dorm,” she shot enid a glare, “to look over some studies that were assigned to us last period.”

“We did?” You questioned as you, Xavier and Enid share a look of confusion as all four of you had last period together and to your recollection, there was no tasked assignment. So either you had shit memory or something else was at hand here that you were oblivious towards. Xavier shrugged his shoulders, “beats me and I tend to pay attention in my classes.” You shoved him by the shoulder as you laughed, “you fucking liar, no you don’t you always end up copying my notes or worse!” Xavier chuckled, extending his hand to pat your sympathetically on the shoulder.

“I make it up to you don’t I?” He asked innocently, making you scoff as you swat away his hand. before bringing his attention to Wednesday who by now has her jaw so tightly clenched behind a deadpan face that she swore she felt some teeth crack under the pressure she was putting them under. “Are you sure we got an assessment Wednesday? Me and y/n here have made plans to go beyond and explore the realms of possibilities of which through art later tonight.” Xavier iterated the last part in a tone he knew would get to you, in the end you couldn’t help but snort as you smacked his shoulder. “Stop talking like that, I’ll think I’ll piss myself.” You croaked through your laughter as you leant against Xavier for support.

“Too much information y/n,” Xavier grimaced but he sucked at keeping it up as his lips cracked into a bigger smile, “just too much information.” Whilst you both were distracted with your laughter, Enid could see that Wednesday was gesturing for something lurking under your table with her head and when she went to angled herself better to see what it was and to her surprise; Thing could be seen unlacing Xavier’s shoelaces before tying them back together again in a fashion that would have him take a personal greeting with the floor before scampering off back to where he came.

Now Enid never pegged Wednesday as the prankster type, considering the fact that she had told her time and time again that she was above such childish shenanigans. Yet here she was, having Thing pull pranks on her behalf all because she was jealous. “You’re right,” Wednesday uncharacteristically admitted, “must’ve got my dates incorrect, how foolish of me.” She then shrugs but before she leaves your table; Wednesday looked back over her shoulder, “Xavier.” She said. “Yeah?” He replied, albeit confused. “Watch your step.” Was all she said before walking away, leaving Enid to hastily bid you both goodbye as she rushed to catching up to her before mouthing something neither of you could decipher.

“What did she meant by that?” Xavier asked as he looked at you, watching the back of Wednesday’s head as she faded from view. “No idea but hearing that come from her? It’s probably not a good thing.” You admitted, sensing that something was off with Wednesday but you knew better then to openly confront a hostile animal. She wouldn’t budge an inch. So you decided that it would be best to let her work through whatever it was that she was going through in her own time. “Well that’s real reassuring.” Xavier said glumly before slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“We better get going before we’re late to herbology class.” He adds as he goes to stand up but as he attempts to move out from his seat; Xavier notices a little too late that his shoes were mysteriously tied together, causing him to trip over himself and fall flat on the floor with a yelp. “Oh my god, Xavier are you alright!” You exclaimed as you scrambled to help him up off of the floor, dusting him down of any dirt that might’ve lingered. “I understood what she meant by that now.” Xavier grimaced in pain. You both ended up being late for class by a couple of minutes due to Xavier stopping to unlace his shoes and tying them back up properly before practically sprinting across Nevermore towards your next lesson.

The next time Wednesday walked in on you and Xavier bonding, it wasn’t until nightfall that she came across the sound of laughter filling the air, growing louder and louder the closer she got to the abandoned shed Xavier had tricked out into an art studio. Her blood still boiled with how at ease Xavier seemed whenever he got physical with you and how you never seem to bask in his affection. She despised her Achilles heel which was you and the illogical thoughts you brought up within her head, causing her to loose rational train of thought and sleep as she now wandered the school grounds late at night in hopes for sleep to greet her. However Wednesday found herself stood outside the shed where she could hear yours and Xavier’s conversation loud and clear.

“You messy pup! Your getting paint on everything except the canvas!” Xavier exclaimed though it was in good nature considering how quick he was to laugh. “We’ll maybe if I had more to go on then the bullshit excuse of ‘painting with my heart.’ Then I wouldn’t be such a messy pup then would I?” You replied, reduced to a laughing fit of your own. It was obvious to Wednesday that you were both having fun, so much fun in fact that she believed that she was the last thing on your mind. You rarely visited her and Enid in their dorm anymore, too busy having Xavier occupying your time. Seemingly possessed by the betrayal she was feeling in that moment, Wednesday forcefully opened the door in time to see Xavier stand a breaths width away from you, holding your face in his hands as his thumb rubs away at some remnants of paint.

His gaze seemed a little too intense for Wednesday’s liking as she took into account of the way he looked at you that same exact way she caught herself looking at you; as though you’ve painted the night sky of which you hung the stars from. Your eyes darted to hers as they widened at the realisation of how this looked to other people but before you could open your mouth to say anything. Wednesday had already slammed the door shut behind her as she left. Xavier knew there was something between you and Wednesday and he wanted to help you in expressing your feelings in a way that didn’t suffocate Wednesday. However it seemed that she might’ve misunderstood this as him making a move on you which couldn’t be further from the truth. “Go after her.” Xavier said, stepping away from you.

“She won’t believe me-“ “well then try to make her believe you.” Xavier stopped you before you could admit defeat. “You like this girl don’t you?” He asked, “of course I do Xavier, I like her very, very much.” You admitted, feeling the tears of frustration well up in the corner of your eyes. Xavier smiled softly as he cross the room to open the door, “Then go get her, tiger.” He urges as he gestured towards the silhouette of Wednesday that was slowly fading away from view the further and further away she got. You smiled at Xander, “thank you.” You said to him before bolting out of the art studio and after Wednesday as fast as your legs could carry you.

“You got this!” You heard Xavier exclaim from behind which only pushed you even further forward as you darted past trees, bushes, the archery range until you could vaguely make out Wednesday making her way to the front of the building that lead up to her dorm in Ophelia Hall. “Wednesday!” You called, uncaring of who you woke up in the process, the only thing that mattered to you was setting things straight. “Wednesday wait, I need to talk to you!” You saw Wednesday stop at the doors and you almost felt like collapsing when you finally caught up to her, leaving heavily on the door as you struggled to filling your lungs with the sufficient amount of oxygen.

“What do you want.” Wednesday snapped. She hadn’t meant to stop but something within her told her that she’d be better off hearing you out. “I’m going to cut the bullshit and get to the point,” you said through gasps, coughing briefly before taking a deep breath, “I like you Wednesday Addams. I like you a lot, I’ve been meaning to find ways of telling you how I feel that wouldn’t overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. So I’ve taken to asking Xavier for advice because he’s and artist and shit as you know.” Wednesday felt a familiar fluttering in her chest as you continued to explain yourself when all she really cared enough to hear was that you liked her and only did what you did as to not force her out of her comfort zone for you.

So instead of letting you continue your long winded explanation, Wednesday merely grabbed ahold of your shirt, pulling you into her lips as she gave you a chaste kiss before shoving you away slightly. Your wide eyed expression had a smile creep up on Wednesday’s face as she quickly composed herself. “I like you too,” she headed you silently cheer to yourself, “however you can start repaying me for sacrificing our time together by joining me on the astrology tower tomorrow night.” Your eyes widened and your smile stretched across your face. “Like a date, a date date?” Wednesday couldn’t help but scoff at your choice of words before replying, “yes, like a date date.”

[the-xolotl]

Darling, Can I Be Your Favorite?

Alastor x gn!Reader

ღ Itty bitty snip !

ღ A/N: my fyp was a lot of that one audio “i can be whatever you want me to be” and i felt it really had Alastor vibe.

summary: anyone would find it odd how keen you are on the Radio Demon given his reputation but he’s more intriguing than scary. when admiration turns to infatuation, and your ego gets a little too big makes you make the wrong move.

—• WARNINGS: none? technically, no use of y/n, gn reader, no physical desc of reader, romanticization of unhealthy dynamics, unhealthy infatuation, everything is a red flag 🚩, proof read :D

Part I | Part II

You and Alastor can’t be categorized as friends, not really. Alastor already rarely uses the word to describe, well, anyone besides Miss Rosie as far as you knew. But he did enjoy your company from time to time, you were the most tolerable out of the bunch with the ability to actually make good conversation with the Overlord.

For once Alastor appreciated a reverent admiration rather than straight up fear from an individual. Because you not seeing him in such negative connotations had led to some actually very engaging conversations between the two of you; often about his little hobby of serial killings between his radio shows back when he still roamed the earth. You had shown intelligence, common sense and dignity before him so he deemed you acceptable.

However things began to go a little askew when he started to noticed that admiration had formed into something different. The demon isn’t that oblivious, his aversion to such frivolous things didn’t mean he didn’t know how to spot them or pick them up, especially when they were directed at him.

Even with such vague gentle treatment, it made you feel special that he gave you a different treatment than most. It felt good to be on his good side, that you simply effortlessly got along with him in loose terms, truthfully. Shared interests and his frequent visits to your or his quarters for a late cup of tea or coffee only made your infatuation grow, bordering on obsession. You sought him out more and more.

It started subtly, even you hadn’t noticed. If someone was to ask you to trace back to when you had started to see him differently, started desiring and craving a different kind of closeness to the Radio Demon, you honest to Satan couldn’t say when. It just happened. After the increased amount of time spent talking sometimes late into the night sharing a drink you realized he isn’t as unpleasant as many others think.

That had been the first sign things had begun steadily going downhill. The second one was getting comfortable. Being on the sinner’s good graces came with perks; which were mostly him being more cordial to you than others and small favors. Something akin to friendship. That’s what you told yourself, and pride does come before the fall.

You let the gentlemanly treatment get to your head, reading into signs that weren’t really there, etc. It was beginning to be troubling for Alastor it saddens him to lose another little bit of fun he got while at the hotel. He avoided you after a while seeing him less and less. Disappeared every time you came around almost every time.

Admittedly it was hurtful, made you upset enough to confront him about it. Which brought you exactly where you are now; in his quarters demanding answers he didn’t owe you nor that he wants to entertain. You are basically begging for his attention at this point. A pitiful display if he’s ever seen one. Seeing you so desperate for a silver of his time or affection, affection you’d never obtain no matter how hard you tried either way. He hasn’t been interested in relationships even when he was alive, that certainly didn’t changed after death.

This was going nowhere, but you refused to give up, “I can be whatever you want,” your hands fidgeted at your sides, “Just tell me what you want and I’ll be that for you.” Your voice trembled a bit, you knew you’re hitting a dead end, probably also treading a fine line on his patience with you.

Alastor stalked towards you in his typical cool-calm fashion and snatching your face. His hand enveloping your jaw, squishing your cheeks with clawed fingers, “You foolish little creature,” he said, voice full of condescension.

Your gaze locking with his, with so much helpless hope behind it, “I could be that.” It came out more as a plea than an affirmation, you tried to smile up at him but his nails digging into your cheeks make it hard and a little painful.

“You have nothing I want, my dear,” He said feigning sympathy, “I don’t take low hanging fruit. It brings me no joy, no entertainment to be had from such an easy grab.” He lets go of your face and walks right past you towards the door, opening it. “You may leave now. This conversation is over.”

Despite giving you his polite smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes like other times you’d been around him. Your hands balled into fists. In other words he was calling you easy. That stung more than a bit. “I could give you my soul. You’re into deal making, aren’t you? Let’s make one.” Brave wasn’t a word he’d use to describe you at this moment, more like reckless. Something he disliked even more.

He simply laughed to your face. Laughed with his whole chest, the laugh you’ve heard from him after talking about how pitifully his victims had fallen for his traps and deceptions. Full of ridicule, glee. “Your soul? Oh dear you sure know how to make me laugh,” he said wiping a nonexistent tear from his eye, “No, no. I don’t have a need for neither you, your services nor your soul. I get absolutely nothing from it!”

There’s a tightening in your chest and a stinging feeling around your eyes as you let your gaze fall to the ground. Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, blooming on your face a bright red. Ouch. You couldn’t help the anger that began to rise, but you couldn’t even speak. What do you say after that kind of humiliation?

You had idealized a relationship that didn’t exist in your own mind and got humbled with 0 hesitation. “I’d suggest you retired to your own quarters and get some rest, darling. You’re not acting like your usually delightful self,” he said with a big grin, still being sarcastic. Silently you walk out barely murmuring a simple good night. “Good night, sweetheart.”

As soon as you stepped out he shut the door without another word. Leaving you to walk back through the dimly lit hallways back to your own room with silent tears rolling down your cheeks.

You weren’t about to give up just yet, though.

ღ A/N: thanks for reading ! this lil scenario had been playing around my head for a few days and i just needed to get it out there. hope it was still an enjoyable read :))))

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© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

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⤷ dividers : cafekitsune ✰

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (AND x Constantine😜) Imagine WIP Part 9

Here we go my lovelies! @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @tammykelly @lilspookymeh @kurai-hono-blog

Wick could have been an asshole about buying a brand new kitchen, sundries included–but instead he merely shrugs off Constantine's hostile question. "Seemed like the least I could do."

Constantine glares, but lets it go, begrudgingly sitting down to a delectable meal cooked by the man he knows, deep down, that you've never been able to forget. 

At Tex's midday administering of magical medicine, he takes your hand after you finish, refusing to let go. "Set with me a while, Rattlesnake." He pats the couch, on which there is no room unless you were to sit in his lap–undoubtedly his hope.

With a sigh and a knowing smirk you settle back in your chair. Your eyes are drawn to the burn upon his chest. He will carry that mark for the rest of his life, even if the magic is lifted.

You think on what Papa Midnite said to Constantine. "Take some big feeling..."

It kind of floors you, to think of the energy it took for Constantine to conjure that working out of thin air.

For you.

You told him a little bit about the boys. How they hurt you–and, how they saved your life. How you loved them, and how they destroyed you in their abandonment. No matter how you framed it, Constantine blamed them for the bullet wound forever seared in your side.

However, it wasn’t so simple as that. 

"Whacha thinking, baby girl?"

You just shake your head with a tired smile. "Nothing important."

"Hmm. You gonna make me guess? Alright. You're thinkin'...bout that time in Mexico it was just you an me and the stars, out by the pool in our birthday suits."

You snort–quite against your will, it turns into a giggle. 

"No..."

"Uh huh. You’re missin' my wicked tongue up between your thighs. I know that look."

"That's enough of that," you say, trying to stand. But he has your hand, and he tugs you so that you fall down to sit on the edge of the couch–and half on him. Your faces hover just centimeters away. You watch with horror a he tries to lean in, capitalizing on the opportunity. By the skin of your teeth, your heart in your throat, you just barely manage to turn your head.

"Didn't you miss me, rattlesnake?" he asks, his deep voice all sultry and low just wrecking you to the bone.

You dare reach up to caress his cheek with the blade of your thumb. "Of course I did. But there’s no going back, Tex. Maybe...that time is behind us." Just saying it hurts like a knife between the ribs, but you go on, “Maybe you and John did the right thing, letting me go.”

He just narrows his dark eyes at hearing that. You hate the way it gives you such a thrill, to the base of your spine, and lower still. “I thought you were mad about that? Hell, I’m still mad about that. I miss you so much I can hardly think straight. There’s just…” He frowns while he says it, but you know it’s just because he’d literally rather take a bullet than talk about his feelings. His grip on your hand tightens; he glares down at your silver rings like they owe him money.  “There ain’t no point to anything, when you’re gone. Do you know what I mean?”

You close your eyes; for a moment you feel as though the floor has dropped out from under you, because you know exactly what he means. You lived it for months after they booted you, drifting from country to country, an empty husk of a woman, a gaping black hole where your heart used to be. Only after moving to LA, thinking about going back to school, and meeting Constantine, did your life start to feel like it had some meaning again. 

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” you answer quietly. “But how did you think this would go? You’d knock on my door, and I’d just uproot my whole life for you again?”

“Maybe?” The confusion on his handsome face is almost cute. You realize he really did think it would be that easy, and you snort, looking away to a framed Tibetan Thangka painting on the wall. This man. As ever, you’re torn between kissing him and killing him. You have to keep reminding yourself that the former option is not even on the table. 

“At least give me some credit. I coulda come in with guns blazin' but instead I brought flowers."

“You want credit?”

“Yeah. I’m practically a changed man. And I wouldn’t mind an apology from Wizard Boy either.”

"You've got to be kidding me." The pair on this man never ceases to amaze you.

"We were just having a little bit of friendly fisticuffs, but he fucked me up pretty good. That’s called unnecessary escalation.”

He would know. 

"Spare me the macho bullshit. There’s no such thing as friendly fisticuffs. You were going to hurt my boyfriend, and you absolutely deserved what he gave you. You’re lucky he got Midnite to lift it."

Only a beat later do you realize you called Constantine your boyfriend within earshot of everyone, which you never do, because you both hate labels and the word just seems too high school for what you actually are to each other–but there’s no going back now. 

“But–”

At last, at last, you are in a position where you don’t have to swallow his gaslighting. “No buts. You can behave yourself, Tex, or you can go. I mean it.” 

Maybe drawn by the sound of your raised voice, Constantine chooses that moment to intervene, appearing at the foot of the couch with a magnificent frown. 

“Well well, if it ain’t The Boy Who Lived.”

You know he’s just making yet another Harry Potter reference, but considering Constantine’s history, this nickname makes you flinch. Maybe it’s a mistake on your part, but you bristle. “Don’t call him that.”

Constantine, however, betrays nothing, just crossing his arms with that blandly judgy expression. “It’s alright, y/n. He loves childrens’ books–a man has to stick to his reading level.” You don't feel like arguing about the complexity of the later books, so you let the arrow fly.

You lift an eyebrow, side-eyeing Tex. “You do know an awful lot about Harry Potter for a grown ass man your age.”

For possibly the first time ever Tex actually looks sheepish. “Had to read something while I was in the shit.”

Tex never really told you much about his tour of duty in the Middle East. Bradford had intimated that it didn’t end well–but you weren’t exactly keen to take everything that asshole had said with any sort of seriousness. The thought of him holed up in a mud hut reading about Hogwarts kind of pulls at your heartstrings for some ridiculous reason. 

“So what you want, Wizard Boy?” demands Tex, insouciantly refusing to let go of your hand, despite you tugging on it.

“I was going to check your chakras for malevolence, but I'm having second thoughts now.”

“Sounds illegal in five states.”

Constantine snorts. “You want me to double check Midnite's handiwork or not? If there's a trace of darkness left it could spread– and you'll be fucked all over again.”

“Not the way I like, I'm guessin’.”

“Probably not. But then again, you seemed to like Desdemona at the club. You want an introduction?” Constantine has a sly look on his handsome face as he asks this. It must be the succubus you'd run off– the thought of Tex in contact with her again makes you vibrate with jealousy. It is sharp, and fierce, and utterly fucking irrational.

You should encourage Tex to find someone else.

Your heart just doesn't agree.

“I'll…leave you two to it,” you say, reluctantly standing to pull away out of Tex's grip.

Only belatedly, after you've retreated to your room, do you realize that maybe Constantine interrupted your tête a tête with Tex for his sake, rather than yours.

***

John Wick whips you all up a beautiful dinner of sauteed meat and vegetables, complimented with a nice bottle of dry red wine that you're sure did not come from Trader Joe's. You play his sous chef, chopping up veggies, and it almost feels like old times in the kitchen, although he never would have given you access to a big sharp knife before. As though you ever would have had the nerve to stab him. 

Tex was another matter.

At first you all sit down to share a semi-awkward meal, peppered with halting silences–until the second bottle of wine comes out, and then things flow more smoothly. It starts with Constantine cracking a joke at Tex's expense, which is surprisingly backed by Wick with a witty aside. Tex responds good naturedly, for once, and you just sit back and watch with a smile, a warm glow in your chest that feels too close to bliss to possibly last.

You help Wick with the dishes, drying as he washes because your dish rack is tiny. “You look tired, sweetheart,” he says after the last plate, bending down to kiss your forehead. You forget. You fucking forget that there are two other people there, one of whom is your current lover, and out of longing and pure habit you tilt your head back for the second staggeringly sweet kiss on your lips that always followed. 

Only a long beat later do you realize what you've done, with Wick's shining dark eyes looking down on you, missing nothing. You gasp like a scandalized school girl, taking a small step back. “You're right,” you agree. “I am tired. Good night, everyone.” You're such a coward you can't even lift your head to look at any of them, though you can feel their eyes upon you as you scurry away.

Once in the sanctuary of your room you collapse on the bed, clutching the coverlet in your claws for hands, so embarrassed by your slip that you could die. You know that Constantine loves you, even if he’s never outright said it, and honestly probably never will–and this is how you repay him. 

You really are a piece of work.

***

After you retreat, a silence falls over the kitchen, the three formidable men eyeing each other like wolves amidst a power struggle, trying to decide who is the weakest link and who is alpha. It’s Constantine who stands without a word, fetching his green glass bottle of Ardbeg single-malt scotch and setting it down in the middle of the table with a thunk. Then he produces three glasses–none matching–and pours out a finger for each. 

“Gentlemen.” He looks between the two assassins seated at his table, a part of him flabbergasted as to how he’d even ended up in this situation. Before he met you, if someone told him someday he would find a woman he loved more than the air he breathed, he would have laughed them out of the room. 

Not now. 

How the mighty are brought low, and pride goeth before a fall, and all that proverbial biblical bullshit that is old as time and yet somehow still applies. Despite all our advances, humans are still essentially the same animal we were when we first left the cave and started walking upright–or when God created Adam out of dirt, whichever you find more believable.  

“I believe we find ourselves at an impasse.”

“How you figure?” asks Tex, knocking back his drink and helping himself to another. 

“Does being in love with the same woman ring a bell?”

Wick smirks, watching the exchange between the two, sipping his scotch sparingly. He does not contradict Constantine’s assessment, but in his succinct way he drives home the finer point. “More importantly, that woman is in love with all of us.”

The thought pulls something like a growl from deep in Constantine’s chest, but in the end he acknowledges, “Exactly.”

Tex smirks, leaning on his elbows. “Don’t be sore, Wizard Boy. Be grateful we broke her in for you.”

Constantine seems to count to ten under his breath, restraining himself from unleashing a curse on this fucking cowboy again. “You’re gonna have to give me pointers on how you manage not to murder him daily,” he says to Wick. 

“I only listen to about half of what he says,” Wick admits with a smirk, a humorous glitter in his dark eyes.

“Good to know. My point is, if I curse you both into the Seventh Circle, it would hurt her. Likewise, if you two were to dig me a shallow grave out in the desert. You hurt her enough the first time. Do you follow?”

Wick nods, grasping Constantine’s train of thought immediately. Tex, however, has to chew on it a little–maybe because he’d hoped, for once, to finally have this girl to himself. 

“You’re saying you don’t mind sharin��,” finally says Tex with a shit-eating grin, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, I mind,” Constantine is sure to clarify. “But it’s up to her, if she wants you or not. If she decides she wants you to go–I will make you go. If she wants you to stay…” He spreads his big hands, as though to say, we’ll figure it out. Somehow.  

Tex narrows his eyes, clearly debating if he should pick a fight over the make you go part, or take it as it sits on the table. “And how do you propose we let her know what we decided about this?”

Constantine snorts at that, draining his glass and standing from the table. “That’s your problem, Howdy Doody. Good night–and may the best man win.” The two assassins watch as John Constantine crosses to your bedroom, and practically shuts the door in their faces. 

***

You are drifting on the edge of sleep when Constantine crawls into bed with you. You smile as you feel the familiar pattern of the depression in the mattress, and moan with surprise as he covers your mouth with his. You taste the Ardbeg on his tongue, which explains some of his ardor, but not all. The fury of his kisses on your lips and neck pulls an involuntary moan from deep in your lungs, his big hands digging into the flesh of your thigh, pulling you on top of him. 

“John…?” Utterly star-struck, you blink down at him, disheveled in your pajama t-shirt and your hair a mess. He reaches up to cup your cheek, dwarfing your face in his large hand, studying you like there will be a test later. He opens his mouth like there’s something he wants to say to you, but he can’t quite get it out, the words stuck in his throat. 

You think you know what it is, and your heart warms for it, that tingling thrill filling your chest and spreading outwards. You’re not even mad, that he can’t say it, because you get him. This is not the week you’re going to push him out of his comfort zone, more than you already have. Most of LA would laugh to hear it, but John Constantine has been a veritable fucking saint the past couple of days, and you’re so grateful to him. 

“It’s ok,” you say softly, tracing the line of his square jaw. “I know.” 

He frowns, almost like he wants to argue, but in the end he just shakes his head and pulls you to him.

You want to apologize for almost kissing John Wick right in fucking front of him–but that sticks in your throat too. You guess you’re both just a little raw tonight.

He peels off your t-shirt greedily as he guides you down. Hungry lips and a teasing tongue find the sensitive tips of your breasts, making you squirm with longing above him. You know you’ve already soaked through the laughable barrier of your panties, and are probably leaving an unsightly stain on his nice (200 dollar, he likes to tell you with a smirk) white shirt–but if the Chinese laundry down the street can get out demon blood stains, what’s a little cum?

You let out a cry of longing as he releases your nipple with a pop; the ache between your thighs is already nearly unbearable, and you can't stop yourself from grinding against his lean torso. You shut your mouth as soon as you open it, conscious of the paper thin walls and the two dangerous men on the other side of them.

“You like that, baby?” he taunts, hooking his fingers in your panties to tug them down.

“You know I do,” you pant. 

“Then let me hear you,” he invites with a wicked smirk, shifting down so that you are nearly sitting on his face. You don’t know what was said out there, but you are starting to get the idea that John Constantine is up to something. But before you can even begin to think what to do about it, he pulls you forward with an undeniable grip on your thighs, and his tongue is laving up your slit.

“Fuck.”

This exclamation is not quiet, and neither are the ones after it. You practically shake the walls with your cries when you cum on his tongue, your body rendered into a quivering mess of over-stimulated nerves. He does not grant you mercy, even when you beg him, and by the time he is done with you, you are halfway to your second orgasm.

“Do you want me baby?” he demands, panting from his champion cunnilingus league exertions as he undresses himself. There is a desperation in his tone you’ve never quite heard before, and you have a feeling he’s not just talking about sex.

“I need you,” you tell him, and you mean every word. It wins you every inch of his hard cock buried inside you, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning, as though there is no room for breath in your body when filled with his impressive manhood. He grips you hard enough to bruise, his face buried in the bend of your neck.

He drives himself inside of you, hips pumping with the fury of his need, but he’s prepared you for it. It’s all you can do just to hold on, to the bed, to him, letting him use you exactly the way he wants to, because you know the past couple of days have been anything but easy for him. 

When his thumb finds your clit you think you might die from the overwhelming sensation of it. “No,” you beg, somehow smiling through your exasperation. “Please. Mercy.”

He just pays you that impish curl of lips that always seriously makes you question which side he's playing for. “You can take it,” he informs you. “For me?” The way he pouts down at you while simultaneously rearranging your insides should be illegal.

“Fuck,” you swear again, and he grins down at you, knowing he’s got you in the bag. With your ankles around his ears he slows down for you, but still fills you to the absolute brim, working you in just the rhythm he knows you need with the tip of his too-clever thumb. There is a heart wrenching beauty in making love like this. The two of you have reached an understanding of each other's bodies, a point of familiarity in which you just know, and yet somehow each time is better than the last.

It isn't long before you cum on his cock with a ragged scream that you know there’s no way in hell the boys didn’t hear, yet you cannot stop it, you cannot care, because the man inside you has rendered you into a vessel for this mind-bending pleasure and in this moment, you belong completely to him. His hips snap against yours, and soon he follows with your greedy little cunt fluttering around him, spilling himself inside you with a loud groan.

He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. You revel in the sticky warmth of his seed seeping between your thighs, his heart a furious drumbeat beneath your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ,” is all you can manage to wheeze against the warmth of his chest.

“Right initials,” he pants, pressing lips to your hair. “Wrong guy.”

Thinking you really might have lost your mind, you start to cackle, and you can’t stop until you literally can’t breathe. You do not even have the energy to clean up, falling asleep in the beautiful mess John made of you, and maybe it’s just you, but even in his sleep John Constantine seems to hold you more tightly than he ever has before.

------------

😬

it's on? 😈😈😈

@sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P6

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid.

Of course your time in South Korea with Charles had to come to an end eventually, you guys had made the most of the sight-seeing and even managed to meet up with Carlos and Lando before all heading to Japan, you guys went straight to the track on Thursday for media duties.

Throughout the weekend it seemed you were the only one actively looking out for Charles, when you were walking through the paddock with your PR manager, you weren't listening to her. Your eyes tracked every individual person around you, trying to get a glimpse of the one face you wanted to see.

However, whenever you did spot Charles, he was never looking at you. He's be talking to a mechanic, or Joris, or Fred, or fans, or the latest celebrity in the paddock, but he never glanced over at you.

The first time you'd spotted him, you'd shouted his name and ran over to him with a big grin on your face. You didn't know who it was that he was with, but when you went to pull him in for a hug, he almost felt like he just leaned into the side not really paying much attention.

You then felt embarred at how you'd childishly run up to him, you knew that was an issue for you, for the first time in years the Grid was aging rather than putting their trust in rookies. Charles was now 28, you were 22 so there were obvious differences in how you both acted but you didn't think it would affect it this much!

FP1 was shocking, the car had no grip on the Japanese race track and you were all over the shop. But it wasn't just the car's fault. Mentally you were else where, cringing at the thought of what Charles possibly said to the people around him once you'd left.

FP2 wasn't any better, coming in 18th fastest on the grid. Everyone was frustrated, they couldn't work out what was wrong. You were frustrated with yourself and the team were frustrated that they couldn't work out what was wrong with you.

FP3, again wasn't much better, it got to the point where you were forced to go to the medical tent because you weren't being yourself at all.

You sat there while the doctor did his tests, everyone thought it would be a wrist or shoulder twist that was messing you up, but you told them you were fine. Of course the German team refused to not give the best to their young driver, so one of the mechanics and social media team sat with you waiting.

"Well, you seem fine physically. Blood pressures normal, you've not reported any strains or pains, anything going on up here?" he asks tapping the side of your head lightly.

"I'm fine, just an off weekend." you mumble, not only were you annoyed that your lack of confidence in yourself was giving you a lack of confidence of your driving and decision making.

"Give me 5 minutes!" he says leaving the room, he comes trotting back in with another man, who looks to be more casually than the doctor.

"Hello!" you smile quietly at the young man, a similar age to you, maybe slightly older.

"Hi Y/N, Dr Martin tells me that maybe you'll benefit from me" he smiles taking a seat in the chair opposite the one you were in.

"Hmmm?" you ask confused.

"I'm a specialized sport athlete related therapist. I think you are going through a down week, and I want to help you. Free, and off the books for this convo, then we can talk about potentially any needed in future sessions" he offers.

Talking to him about everything was actually really relieving, you were able to confide in him in a judgement free zone. Of course Charles ignoring you was the tip of the iceberg, but there had been underlying issues since you'd been announced as coming into F1.

You left the session with a clear mind, using the pointers he gave you when you left the room to get back to the Audi garage and to start Qualifying.

"Hey, I heard you went to the medical tent, everything okay?" Alex asks with Lily by his side.

"Erm yeah, nothing's wrong. Ready to race!" you grin at him, before pulling your race suit up and tightening it. You had your social media manager do your hair in a low plait before pulling your balaclava over the top, you were hopeless when it came to your hair under your helmet.

You walk out to where you car is pulling you helmet on it was a nice and new special one for Japan, decorated pretty and pink with cherry blossom which you new everyone would go crazy for.

Qualifying was crazy, you managed to get through Q1 coming in P5, which shocked everyone. You were driving like a completely different person than you were for the last two days. Q2 and you came P1, you flew round the lap, you and the car flying round the corners and pushing hard along the straights. Q3 and you placed P2, not a pole but there you were front row on the grid next to Lando Norris in P1 and Yuki Tsunoda in P3.

If you got a good start tomorrow, maybe just maybe you could take your first win.

Everyone congratulated you on a phenomenal drive, starting on the front row tomorrow while defending from Yuki and Charles behind you. Most of the interviews people could tell you'd been breathing a different air since you came out of the medical tent.

Two unidentified team principles put in a complaint asking for a drug swab on you as your change in driving was almost instantaneous making the FIA launch an investigation into you and Audi over the weekend.

"What happened in the medical tent Y/N, we need to know to let the FIA know..." your manager says on the Sunday, you'd had a good night sleep only to wake up to all the allegations and the investigation into Audi.

"I, I just met with the therapist, the reason I wasn't driving the best was because I've been struggling with the pressures that come with being an F1 driver, it's very different than F2. I didn't know it was illegal to ask for help..." you sass, not wanting to hear anything more before going out to do the track walk. You remain silent, thinking about everything going on, when you walked past other teams you heard the whispers, and the rumors coming from them.

"Y/N is it true?" you hear from your left as your walking back to the Audi hospitality to get lunch before the race starts.

"Sorry?" you twist turning around to see Charles and Carlos stood on the steps of the Ferrari motorhome.

"That's you've been using performance boosting drugs?" Charles frowns crossing his arms in a disappointed kind of way.

"You've got to be shitting me right now. Sorry I have to get to the Audi garage, I don't have time for this" you say turning away and walking off, but an arm reaches out and grabs yours.

"Tell us" Charles says.

"Let go of me Charles, it'd fine if you want to go round believing stupid rumors but i thought after the weekend in Korea you'd know the kind of person I am" you raise your voice. You rip your hand away before going back to Audi. You storm into your drivers room, trying to hold back the tears until they just fall out. You sit down on the edge of the sofa in there, turned away from the door.

"Y/N time to get in the car" a voice calls out knocking on your door. You primitively pull your helmet on, so no one can see the tear stained cheeks and your watery eyes.

"The FIA have come to a conclusion about your case, we just heard but it wont come until after the race" you engineer says pulling you to one side away from everyone else.

"That's a good thing, they are still letting you race. Which means they've taken on board your toxicology report and see you are clean, they've also got statements from everyone involved and Andrea is asking for a formal apology to you" he explains, you just nod, getting into the car and taking the wheel from him.

The race was, well. You crashed out actually going into turn 11. You were defending from Lando and Max who had made his way up the grid when they both tried to over take you either side. They pinched you in on the tight turn neither of them giving you room to move, and your wheels got destroyed. You were sent flipping over crashing into Lewis's front wing on the way. The race was red flagged, giving Lewis a change to fix his front wing and any damage that occurred to Lando and Max's car.

With the DNF, you were rushed straight to the medical tent to be checked out. After the rest of the day was a blur, the FIA confirmed a 10 second stop go penalty for both Lando and Max, as it was a very dangerous crash that caused you injuries and the car significant damage.

Your PR manager came with you for media duties as you were a little, spacey from the pain medication they'd given you and you weren't 100% capable of understanding things.

"So Y/N, it's been an interesting race today lets look at the finish board" he says handing you the clipboard knowing you probably wouldn't remember the lay out.

P1 - Yuki Tsunoda in Alpha Tauri

P2 - Charles Leclerc in Ferrari

P3 - Oscar Piastri in Mclaren

P4 - Alex Albon in Audi

P5 - Max Verstappen in RedBull

P6 - Lando Norris in Mclaren

P7 - Liam Lawson in Alpine

P8 - George Russell in Mercedes

P9 - Logan Sargeant in Williams

P10 - Lewis Hamilton in Mercedes

P11 - Carlos Sainz in Ferrari

P12 - Zhou Guanyu in Williams

P13 - Daniel Ricciardo in Alpha Tauri

P14 - Kevin Magnussen in Haas

P15 - Fernando Alonso in Aston Martin

DNF- Y/N in Audi

DNF - Lance Stroll in Aston Martin

DNF- Pierre Gasly in Alpine

DNF - Valtteri Bottas in Haas

DNF - Sergio Perez in RedBull

"Yeah it was, imagine driving 47 laps of a 53 lap race in 3rd, 2nd and 1st to crash out" you try to joke but it comes across blunt. Your PR manager explains your not angry just disappointed.

"Yeah, it was a spectacular race from you Y/N and I assume your happy with the statement the FIA released about you?" he asks and you look to your manager in confusion.

"I've been in the hospital all this time, I haven't been told anything" you admit, looking confused.

"They cleared the allegations, and explained the real reasoning why you were in that tent, and that your toxicology results came back clear. How did it feel to be accused?" he asks, pushing the mic closer making you flinch back a little.

"If I'm being honest ... this weekend has been the shittiest weekend of my life and I'm just glad its over. I'm going home and I'll see you all in Australia" you mumble, but the interviewer wasn't done.

"Just one last question Y/N did your team-mates and other colleagues fight against what their teams brought forward or were they in on these false allegations?"

"Considering my name has come out of everyone and their sons mouth this weekend its safe to say I know who is fake as fuck" you frown. You walk off like a boss, sticking your middle finger up when he goes to ask you another question.

"Okay, home time! You are most definitely not of sound mind to be doing this" she frowns pulling you away.

Alex had been there for you through the whole weekend even when 'evidence' to help the allegations came forward. Same with Lando and Daniel, but the people who really shocked you Like Charles, Carlos, Lewis, Sergio and Max who all had something to say were the ones that hurt the most.

"Australia's in two weeks. Come back with a completely new mindset yeah?" your PR admits rubbing your shoulders before sending you on your way.

You make one last phone call before you get into your Audi to drive to the hotel.

"Hey Chris, about those therapy sessions... how do i start paying for them?"

Taglist:

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[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Never Have I Ever (Part 2) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Civilian Contractor! Reader (Callsign: Dove)

Length: 3.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Female Reader with a Callsign, but no Physical Description or Name; Not Necessarily Healthy Decisions/Coping Mechanisms; Shy! Reader; Slow Burn; Coworkers to Friends to Lovers; Oblivious Idiots; Excessive Pining; Suggestive Humor

Summary: Hangman and Dove move into some more awkward topics as they continue Dove's challenge.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Master List

# 13 - Ridden a Motorcycle

Stepping out of her apartment building, Dove paused when she saw Maverick waiting for her instead of Hangman in his truck. 

“Hey, Mav,” she greeted him, raising an eyebrow when he offered her a helmet. 

“Hangman looped me in about your challenge to yourself,” Maverick explained as Dove took the helmet. “And I thought I would offer some help.”

“Thanks, Mav.”

Dove put the helmet on and nervously climbed onto the back of the Kawasaki. Looking around, Dove turned back to Maverick. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel safe!” Dove yelped as Maverick drove down the road. 

~~~~~

“Why did you have Maverick drive me to Target?” Dove asked Hangman as they walked inside together. “I’m here at least once a week.” 

“We’re stocking up and looking for some inspiration,” Hangman explained, leading the way. 

“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this trip?” Dove sighed, following behind him. 

They worked clockwise through the store. They spent some time in the food section, picking out a few items for inspiration before moving onto the beauty section. Dove was looking at the hair dye options when Jake dropped a box into the cart. Looking down, Dove raised an eyebrow.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Hangman?” 

“You can wax whatever body part you want. You haven’t ever waxed . . . something before, right?”

“No, I haven’t. And I’ll just leave it there,” Dove replied, turning back to the hair dye options. Picking up two bottles, she showed them to Jake. “Should I do blue or red?” 

“You’re going to dye your hair?” he asked, sounding a bit concerned.

“Just temporary. This stuff is spray-on and it washes off with a shower.” 

“Then red. The blue is too . . .” Jake trailed off, meeting Dove’s gaze. “I don’t want to be rude.” 

“I’ll just get red then,” Dove agreed, placing one bottle in the cart and the other back. 

~~~~~

# 14 - Bought a Pregnancy Test

Jake and Dove slowly walked down the ‘family planning’ aisle. Dove forced herself to stare straight ahead as she and Jake stood side by side in front of the shelves. She leaned forward, grabbing a random pregnancy test before tossing it into the cart. 

Jake didn’t comment on her choice.

~~~~~

# 15 - Bought Condoms

“What size should I buy?” Dove asked Jake.

“What are you talking about?” 

“The condoms.” 

Jake turned to Dove, who refused to meet his gaze. Clearing his throat, he rubbed his cheek, trying to find a way out of the awkward question. 

“Just buy whatever size you’ve bought before.”

“I’ve never bought them before, that’s why I suggested it,” Dove pointed out, causing Jake to clear his throat again.

“Well, just buy a size that one of your exes wore. Just to get it over with.” 

“I don’t remember what sizes they wore,” Dove lied, but not in the way that Jake assumed.   

“Really?”

“Why?” Dove replied defensively. 

“You have an almost perfect memory,” Jake stated calmly, causing Dove to grow sheepish. “How much was your bill at the Hard Deck yesterday?”

“It’s unimportant.” 

But $16.53 kept flashing in her mind. 

“Just pick one.” 

“I’m not going to just pick one. It’ll just go to waste.” 

“Alright, let’s not overcomplicate things,” Jake sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Glancing over at Dove, and causing her to turn away from him quickly, Jake leaned down, grabbed a box, and tossed it into the cart. “There. Done. Let’s move on.” 

“Gladly.” 

They got to the self-checkout area and they were about to start scanning when Dove let out a groan. 

“I forgot to get milk.” 

“I’ll go grab it,” Jake offered, stepping back. 

“Thanks.” 

“Well, you’re buying me condoms,” Jake mused, causing Dove’s cheeks to warm. “I think I can return the favor.” 

Dove nodded and swallowed thickly before going back to her scanning. She moved through the items before she picked up the box of condoms. She had told herself and Jake that she wouldn’t look, but her impulse control wasn’t what it once was these days. 

“That was a bad idea,” she cursed herself, scanning the box and tossing it into her shopping bag. “A dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb idea, Dove.” 

Jake eventually caught up with her and they walked out of the store together. Putting the bag into the back of Jake’s truck, Dove walked around and sat in the passenger seat. Jake placed the milk carton down beside the bag and quickly grabbed the box of condoms and shoved them into his pocket. 

“You just had to open your mouth in front of the condoms,” he scolded himself, closing the trunk. 

~~~~~

# 16 - Bought a Lottery Ticket

“Why are we stopping at a gas station?” Dove asked Jake as he held the door open for her. 

“Well, I assumed that you’ve never bought a lottery ticket before.”

“No, I haven’t,” she admitted quietly. 

Dove walked over to the clerk and bought a random lottery ticket. After grabbing it, Dove and Jake headed back out to the truck. 

“You think you’ll win anything?” Jake asked as he started the truck. 

“No. I'm not usually lucky,” she replied bluntly, tucking the ticket into her purse.

“You never know,” Jake returned, causing Dove to look over at him. “You could get lucky soon.” 

“Maybe,” Dove agreed quietly. 

~~~~~

# 17 - Tried Baby Food

“If anything, this should be the safest food you'll eat all day,” Jake stated, opening the jar of baby food. “And it’s apple flavored, so it should taste just like applesauce.” 

Dove pulled out a spoon and scooped out some baby food. Bringing it to her mouth, she tasted it tentatively for a moment before shrugging her shoulders and nodding.

“Yeah, just like applesauce. It’s weirdly smooth though.”

~~~~~

#18 - Waxed

“If this burns my skin, it’s on your head, Seresin,” Dove warned Jake, applying the wax to her thigh.

They were standing in her bathroom together and Dove had changed into a pair of gym shorts while Jake heated up the wax for her. Holding out her hand, Dove thanked Jake when he handed her the paper strip before placing the paper down on top of the wax. Turning back to him, she gripped the flap, took a breath, and yanked the strip. 

“Fuck!”

“What? What?” 

Dove hopped on one foot and eventually balanced herself on Jake as she looked down to see if her leg was actually on fire or not. Jake held her right hand as Dove poked at the now irritated skin. 

“You still have two legs,” Jake remind Dove, causing her to scoff.

“Why don’t you try some then if it’s not so bad?” 

~~~~~

# 19 - Waxed Someone Else

“Just put it on my leg,” Jake sighed, pulling up his shorts a little more. “Tit for tat.” 

Dove placed a heavy glob on his thigh and spread it around. Picking up another strip of paper, Dove pressed it down onto the wax before looking up at Jake. She grabbed the flap and offered him a smile. 

“You need a countdown, Lieutenant?” 

With how they were situated, Dove was sitting in between Jake’s legs as his leg was resting on the edge of the tub. And the way that she was smiling at him and the way that she let his rank slide off her tongue . . . he forced himself to look up at the ceiling.

“Just pull it.” 

~~~~~

# 20 - Left a Negative Review Online

“You know, I didn’t actually rip your leg off.” 

“Still, we have to warn people. Don’t need anyone else getting skinned alive,” Jake replied, accepting a bag of ice from Dove. “Grab your phone.”

“To take a picture of you being dramatic?”

“No, to write a bad review. That shit’s horrible!” 

“It was only seven dollars. What did you expect?”

“Just write a bad review,” Jake sighed, sitting up as he rested the bag of ice against his red skin. Looking up at Dove, who made no move to grab her phone, he tilted his chin up. “You’ve never written a bad review before have you?” 

“Of course, I have!” Dove protested, folding her arms over her chest. When Jake stared her down, Dove winced and turned away.

“Grab. Your. Phone.” 

Dove sat down beside Jake and pulled up the product that they bought. Glancing over at Jake, she turned back to her phone and typed out a review.

Wax was a bit difficult coming off.

“Even when you’re writing a bad review, you’re being nice,” Jake sighed, causing Dove to sour.

Wax felt like you were ripping your skin off. Leaves an angry red rash behind. And it reduced a big tough naval aviator to tears.

“I didn’t cry!” 

“I could see tears,” Dove replied, laughing as Jake tried to snatch her phone. 

Leaning away from him as he pressed up against her, she held her phone away from him. Managing to hit the post button before he could grab it, Dove turned to Jake, who was a lot closer to her than she was expecting. And Jake, in turn, seemed to realize how far he had leaned over, pretty much pressing Dove against the arm of her couch. 

“Well,” Jake stated awkwardly. He scooched over to the opposite end of the small couch and cleared his throat. “I have a couple more ideas.” 

“Alright,” Dove agreed quietly, slowly sinking back into his seat. 

~~~~~

# 21 - Watched Keeping Up with the Kardashians

“I can feel myself getting dumber,” Dove commented, frowning at the ridiculous scene. 

“You want to switch to something else?” 

“Wait, I want to see how Kim flips out first.”

“So, you like it?”

“You’re the one who had it under their recommendations,” Dove pointed out, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

~~~~~

# 22 - Watched a Horror Movie

“This is more like psychological horror than jump scare horror,” Jake replied as Dove hugged a throw pillow, staring at the screen. 

“That can be worse,” Dove stated quietly. 

“Phoenix liked it.” 

Dove groaned and held the pillow to her face. Jake reached for a handful of popcorn and leaned back in his seat. The movie progressed and Jake could feel Dove getting more and more on edge with the direction that the movie was taking. And when it got to the truly creepy scenes, she winced and hid her face in the pillow. 

“Well, you’re watching half of a horror movie,” Jake commented, earning an indignant look. Rolling her eyes, Dove turned back to the screen out of spite

“You’re such a—” 

The jump scare, of course, flashed onto the screen and Dove jumped a bit. She didn’t scream or anything excessive more than a gasp, but because she had been kneeling, she fell over and landed on his thighs. Jake winced and Dove quickly apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jake assured her, wincing a bit as she slid off of him.

“Do you need more ice?” Dove asked, causing Jake to momentarily panic.

“For what?”

“Your wax burn?” Dove suggested, like it was obvious.

“Oh . . . no, I’m fine.”

~~~~~

# 23 - Pressed Every Button in an Elevator

The elevator bell dinged overhead and Dove grit her teeth together just a little bit more. The doors held open for a moment before closing again.

“If we ever make it to the bottom of the building, Hangman, you have a five second head start before I kill you,” Dove warned him.

“You’re not a very patient person.” 

“For murder, I am,” she replied, shooting him a look.

Jake offered her a smile that had earned him a lot of sharp remarks over the years, but with the way that Dove was glaring at him, the edges of his smile softened. She tried to look menacing, but she only managed to appear about as threatening as a kitten. 

“Where are we going anyways?” Dove sighed, turning back to the door. 

~~~~~

# 24 - Snuck In to See a Movie

“Jake,” Dove hissed to him as he led her in through the side entrance to the theater. “What are you doing? We’re too old for this shit.” 

“No one’s even going to be in here. Come on,” Jake insisted, grabbing her hand and tugging her into the theater closest to the door. “I mean, how many people are going to watch this movie? It’s been out for weeks.”

“I don’t know.” 

“In the middle of the day?”

“If we get kicked out and banned, it’s your fault,” Dove hissed as they took their seats. 

The movie started and after a while, Dove actually relaxed and started to watch it. They walked out together along with three other people and headed out to Jake’s truck.

“That wasn’t too bad for a free movie.” 

“No,” Dove agreed, hopping into his truck. “I mean, Jon Hamm makes every movie better.” 

“You like Jon Hamm?” Jake asked, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Really?”

“What?”

“Isn’t he a little old for you?”

“And a little too famous for me,” Dove scoffed, putting her seatbelt on. 

“Doesn’t he look too much like Cyclone for you?” Jake continued, starting up the truck. Turning quickly to Dove as realization struck him, he asked, “Is that why you’re so nice to Cyclone? Because he looks like Jon Hamm?”

“He’s our boss, of course, I’m nice to him,” Dove snapped, leaning back in her seat. “And besides, Cyclone doesn’t smile.”

“You like a guy who smiles?” 

“I like a guy who actually drives instead of holding me hostage in a parking lot.”

“Picky, picky,” Hangman joked before driving off.

~~~~~

# 25 - Taken a Coin from a Fountain

“Are you kidding me?” Dove hissed to Jake, who shrugged in response.

“Just do it.” 

“No!”

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong, Jake.” 

“What? It’s just a coin. Look, that dime’s barely even in the water. You can scoop it up easily,” Jake insisted, pointing at a coin. 

“Someone made a wish and put it in there. We can’t just take it.” 

“They won’t know.”

“But I’ll know,” Dove replied, causing Jake to groan. 

“Why does it matter so much to you?” 

“Because.” 

“Because why?”

“Well,” Dove sighed, looking away from Jake. “My parents divorced when I was a kid and they always met at the local mall when I would switch parents. And my dad always gave me a coin to make a wish while we waited for my mom and . . .” 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Jake stated as Dove turned her back to him. “We don’t have to do it.”

“Even if I was just lying?” 

“Even if . . . you were lying about that?” Jake demanded, causing Dove to smile proudly. 

“Yeah. Well, my parents are divorced, but the rest of it was bullshit.” Nudging him on the arm, she laughed. “But I thought you of all people wouldn’t fall for the whole ‘divorced parents’ sob story.” Smiling to herself, she folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe I’m a better liar than I thought.” 

“So, you’re going to take a coin then?”

“No, it’s still wrong, Jake.” 

“Here, I’ll throw one in and you can pick that one. I don’t mind if you crush my dreams,” Jake offered jokingly, pulling out his wallet. He grabbed a penny and tossed it onto the edge of the pool. “There.”

Dove huffed and looked around before bending over and grabbing the penny quickly from the water. Turning back to Jake, she handed the penny back.

“What did you wish for?”

“That I don’t fall for your little stories again,” Jake muttered, causing Dove to grin. 

“We pulled the coin out, so your wish isn’t going to happen.”

Jake sighed and shook his head, earning a smile and giggle from Dove in return.

~~~~~

# 26 - Committed a Federal Crime

“Jake, this isn’t a crime.” 

“You’re taking my mail. It’s a federal crime, Dove.” 

“You handed me your mail key.” 

“Sneaking into the movie theater, taking a coin from a public fountain, and now you’re stealing mail? Where will it end?” Jake listed dramatically, causing Dove to shush him. 

“Here’s your mail. All two envelopes,” she replied, handing over the key and mail.

“You have to open it.” 

Dove huffed and rolled her eyes, opening one of the envelopes begrudgingly. Pulling out the paper inside, she turned to Jake.

“Did you want to upgrade your WiFi?” she asked sarcastically.

~~~~~

# 27 - Licked a Bar of Soap

“When I said that I could eat, I wasn’t referring to soap,” Dove replied, opening the box. 

“The rest of the squad is coming over soon. I told them to bring food.”

Dove stuck out her tongue and licked the bar of soap before wrinkling her nose and walking off to the bathroom to wash out her mouth. 

“You pick the dumbest ones,” she huffed.

~~~~~

# 28 - Had an Anchovy

“They’re not that bad,” Bob stated, ignoring the disgusted looks from the rest of the people in the room. “What? They’re not.”

“Let me just get this over with. If the taste doesn’t kill me, the smell will,” Dove sighed, grabbing an anchovy from the tin and shoving it into her mouth.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust but swallowed it like a champion and quickly reached for her drink. Sliding the tin over to Bob as she took a few gulps, Dove finished her drink and hiccuped. 

“You can keep the rest, Bob.”

~~~~~

# 29 - Been Given Flowers

“Sorry, I’m late,” Rooster stated, sliding into Jake’s apartment. “Have we voted yet?”

“Not yet,” Phoenix stated, shaking her head. 

“Good.”

Rooster set the grocery bag down on the countertop and turned to Dove, who sighed when she saw the look in his eye. 

“Please don’t tell me that you brought more fish.”

“No, but have you ever been gifted flowers, Dove?”

“Not that I can think of, no. Why?”

Rooster pulled out a small bundle of yellow flowers wrapped in plastic and handed it to Dove. Her eyes widened and she took the small bouquet in her hand, staring down at it curiously. She sniffed the flowers before turning back to Rooster.

“Thanks.”

“Any time,” Rooster replied with a wink before moving to walk around the kitchen island. “Excuse me, Hangman.”

Rooster passed by Jake, completely ignoring his death stare, and grabbed a plate. Phoenix got everyone’s attention while Dove quietly placed the flowers down behind her. 

“Alright, where are we going to go for our team vacation? Vegas? Or the lakehouse that Bob found?”

“Vegas,” Rooster quickly voted. 

“Lakehouse,” Hangman immediately challenged. 

“Something tells me that I should crack open a beer,” Coyote sighed, walking to the fridge.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

[stellamancer]

(un)mentionables — fem!reader x satoru gojo

notes: real talk. i used to have this really cute light blue lingerie set and that was the inspo + aleks talking about gojo's massive dick ripping through lacy panties. that doesn't happen here, though, sorry lmaoo. uh. don't know what else to say. this is part of the infinite loop ficverse.

wc: 1.3k

contains: fem!reader (no pronouns or gendered language), suggestive situations but not anything explicit, pre-relationship (one day i'll write this established relationship fic for these idiots but not today)

You think you might as well be dead.

Ultimately, you have no one to blame but yourself for this; you should have known better than to let Gojo grab the spare water bottle from your overnight bag. In fact, you should have known better than to let him anywhere near your overnight bag. It’s not that you think him the type to just go rifling through your things without an ounce of respect for your privacy; it’s just that you know that Gojo has a knack for putting you in mortifying situations as if he’s being paid to.

“Well, well, well, what’s this?”

You whip your head around so violently that you feel a pulse of pain throughout your skull, but it is quickly forgotten when you see what this is. Gojo has certainly found the water bottle you’d offered him, but, somehow, looped around the bottle’s neck is a pair of lacy, sky blue panties that you’d haphazardly thrown into your overnight bag.

There’s little that you’d like more than passing away right here on the spot.

Gojo gingerly plucks your underwear from the bottle and shoots you a roguish grin, his eyebrows lifting suggestively. “Didn’t think you were the type to wear lace.”

You scowl and march over to him, hand whipping out to snatch your panties back from him. Surprisingly, he lets you, and you ball them up tightly in your fist. “You’re right, I prefer cotton.”

“Then where did those come from?” Gojo points at the bright blue fabric peeking through your fingers.

“How is that any of your business?” you snap.

“Just curious,” Gojo says nonchalantly. He’s still smiling though, and it annoys you.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” You roll your eyes as you toss the panties back in your bag behind him.

“And satisfaction brought it back,” Gojo finishes the entire idiom. Of course he’d know the last half of it. “Since you’re saying that, does that mean you’re going to tell me?”

Your eye twitches as you weigh your options. Refusing is the most obvious and natural option, but Gojo is nothing if not persistent. He won’t shut up if he really wants to know that badly. You don’t know why he would, but then again, he probably just would pester you for the sake of being annoying. Sometimes, it’s easier to just give him what he wants so you can move on. So that’s what you decide to do, looking away as you admit, “...it had a matching bra that was really cute.”

Gojo is silent. Unnaturally so. You would have expected him to fire off some wise ass quip, so this response, or lack of, is actually a little unnerving. Starting to feel a touch concerned, you look at Gojo, and though you cannot see the focus of his gaze with that blindfold in the way, you can just tell that he’s staring at you.

You’re not sure if you should feel proud over the fact that you’ve rendered the famous motor mouth Satoru Gojo speechless.

It’s over in an instant though, as his mouth moves to finally speak.

“Show me.”

His voice is low, quiet, as if he’d breathed out the words without even realizing it.

A strange feeling runs straight down the length of your spine, leaving you breathless, the staccato rhythm of your heartbeat almost deafening you. That was unexpected; his words, his tone, all of it.

You gawk at Gojo, trying to figure what to make of it, and he is still in a way that he never is. His lips are slightly parted, and you have no doubt that he is still staring at you, but you cannot even begin to imagine the shade of his eyes right now. Is it the bright shining aquamarine of the sky? Or the dark glimmering sapphire of the sea?

You don’t know. You don’t know. You want to though; you want to know. You want to rip that blindfold off to find out. You want to memorize every shade and every hue. You want to—

When you realize where your train of thought is heading you shake your head, senses returning to you with a start. You don’t know how two words managed to hijack your thoughts like that, but you will have none of it. Back on track, you demand, “Why the hell would I show you?”

Gojo’s lips curve upwards into a familiar grin, and you’re secretly relieved that he seems to be back to normal too. “Feelin’ shy? We’re both adults here.”

You know what he’s doing, but you’re not playing that game. There’s a lot of things Satoru Gojo can goad you into, but this is not and will not be one of them. “That’s beside the point.”

“Thought you said it was cute,” Gojo says, not giving up.

“Oh, trust me, it is,” you respond. “But I’m not showing you.”

“Why not?”

“I— Gojo, you can’t seriously be asking me this,” you groan.

“I’ve seen you in a swimsuit before,” Gojo points out matter-of-factly. “Is there really a difference between that and lingerie?”

His question gives you pause. Technically, you see his point. Technically. But he’s not quite right. “You are not someone I would be showing my lingerie off to. We are not like that.”

“Meaning you showed it to that loser ex-boyfriend of yours?” Gojo asks flatly.

You actually bought the set after you broke up, but Gojo doesn’t know that. “And if I did?”

(Annoyance, white hot and all consuming eats a hole in Satoru's stomach. He doesn't get why he's so mad. It makes sense. It makes sense.

You'd dated that lame excuse of an assistant manager for nearly a year, so it would make sense if he'd seen you—

Splayed beneath him. Disheveled. Exposed. Sky blue lace hugging your hips. A soft smile playing at your parted lips, kiss swollen and hungry for more, begging for more.

God, Satoru wishes he—

His entire body feels hot. Satoru's not sure if it's the rage or something else.)

"You and him aren't like that anymore, so I don't see the problem," Gojo says with a shrug.

If you could kill Satoru Gojo you would do so in a heartbeat. "Gojo, don't be ridiculous."

"Can't help it; it's my speciality," he says, cheekily sticking his tongue out. He tilts his head to the side, and though you can’t see directly, you can just imagine the expectant look in his eyes.

"I’m not showing you.”

Gojo pouts. If he thinks that’s going to convince you, he may as well quit his job as a jujutsu sorcerer and start a career as a stand-up comedian. “Do you really think it’s fair to let dumb losers see the supposedly cute lingerie when super cool and strong sorcerers like me get left in the dark?”

“Life’s not fair,” you dead pan at Gojo. Though it’s not like someone like him would really get that. “And he’s not a loser, you are.”

“Oh, so does that mean you’ll let me see?”

“I—” You start before grumbling. This is getting nowhere. At this rate the both of you will be bickering back and forth until the end of the night and you, for one, would like to have dinner (not with Gojo). “You know what, fine. I’ll show you, but if and only if, we run across some freaky-ass curse that melts clothes.”

You think your proposition is impossible. In fact, you're sure of it. So much so, that you think Gojo will call you out on it.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he grins with eager childlike excitement. "Really? You serious?"

You don't get his reaction. He does know that the chances of that happening are basically one in a bazillion, right? But then again, Gojo is a complete weirdo so you don't question it. Shrugging, you answer. "Yeah, sure."

Finding said freaky-ass curse that melts away just clothes sounds damn near impossible, so you don't see the harm in agreeing. There's basically no way you'll run into one, meaning no way you'll be giving Gojo an eyeful of your cute lacy sky blue lingerie.

You find out that Satoru Gojo must be the luckiest bastard on the face of the planet, because you end up eating your words two weeks later.

gojo why are you so pathetic lmao.

[fuck-customers]

never before have i worked under a supervisor who got mad at me for trying to help with other tasks when i otherwise had nothing the fuck else to do. 👨‍🍳🌌

i’m doing temp work at a catering kitchen with a few other coworkers and my usual chef while our usual location under the same company is closed for reasons. it’s literally my third fucking day here. today they tagged me in to help with “hand-outs” for a buffet service—basically i just had to stand there and wait for a buffet runner to come back and ask for a salad. the salads were already on their shelf, ready to unwrap and pass out. i am straight up just standing there doing fuck all. my usual chef from the kitchen i’m typically at (i’ll call Chef) is helping oversee the buffet service as the on-duty chef, there’s another guy actually managing it and touching base with the organizers running the event (i’ll call Guy), and then there’s this hot line supervisor (i’ll call Bibi) and the two other temps helping her.

Bibi goes off to do god-knows-what, and again, i’m literally just standing there doing fuck all, so i step over to help Chef and the other temps arrange shit for the hot plates on buffet—garnishing pans, etc. we get their shit dressed, put it back in the hot holding boxes, ready to hand out to the runners. i’m keeping general track of where everything is because…i don’t know, i’m fucking paying attention and make sure i can snap into action at a moment’s notice if called to do so? mostly i’m just transferring pans back and forth for dressing and finding the odd places things have been stowed so it’s not that hard for me to follow when i’m the one being told to put shit back. Chef and Guy walk off to do something, i think to do with the organizers or the buffet attendants, making sure we have all our garnishes to match spec, etc.

Bibi comes back losing her mind because apparently there’s *another* event that got their hot entrees mixed up with ours? so i, trying to be helpful, pipe up to mention which hotbox the just-dressed pans were put into, because like. we don’t fucking want those being taken. and instead of something simple like “i’ve got this handled, thank you” and going back to her shit, she drops everything she’s fucking doing and starts giving me this, like, straight up almost two minute condescending LECTURE. talking to me like i’m fresh out of kindergarten and never stepped foot in a kitchen before instead of a fucking 30-year-old man who’s been in this industry for the better part of a decade, about how *she* can handle *her* hot side and *i* can handle *my* cold side and a bunch of circular bullshit reiterating on that point and by her tone and body language, not so subtly disparaging my intelligence as she did so. straight up i would have felt more highly respected if she just called me a slur to my face.

i’m staring at her like she’s sprouted a second head, but again, it’s my third day here and she has seniority, so i bite my tongue. like, what the fuck? you’ve got a guy here who’s willing to step up and do something other than stand there with one thumb up my ass and the other on my phone to fight the urge to take a nap for the goddamn hour and a half until we even open service. and you’re going to stand there and lecture me for it? like i’m a child?? with your whole chest??? you are 40 years old and acting like this. wow. i appreciate the refusal to adhere to “time to lean, time to clean” mentalities but jesus fucking christ. it’s like she was perfectly genetically engineered to irritate me specifically and decided to speedrun pissing me off.

anyway, Bibi fucks off with the hotbox holding the vast majority of our backups for the beef entree. (we would later run out and have to call her to fucking bring some back because all we had otherwise was chicken and salads.) brief interlude with the return of Guy and him touching base with the temps. we’re standing around on our phones and chatting bc there’s nothing to do; he asks where the other hotbox went, and i actually AM allowed to explain that Bibi came and took it for the other buffet, but we’ve got X number in this other one, because Guy is actually halfway understanding of how operating a fucking kitchen as a team works, i guess. they check and confirm. rinse and repeat with Chef, also a halfway reasonable person to work with. again, they walk off to do whatever.

Bibi returns. she’s looking for a garnish. i start to point it out. this time she just cuts me off to dive into *another* lecture. i’m fed up at this point so i just interject “i’m communicating where i put it because i’m the one who was told to put it away” and this time it turns into an almost three minute lecture about the same bullshit of her handling her shit and me handling mine. i am physically struggling to keep my cool at this point and biting my tongue to keep from getting into an argument with her. i have to step back and put the speed rack with my salads on it between the two of us so i don’t have to fucking look at her.

Bibi walks away as Chef comes back. he’s worked with me a year he knows the Look i get when someone’s crossed a line with me and it’s taking everything in me not to metaphorically spontaneously polymorph into a silverback gorilla. and he comes back over to the buffet arrangement.

Chef: “So, what do you think of Bibi?”

Me, making unblinking eye contact: 🫠 (the longest, slowest, deepest inhale i have ever taken in his presence)

Chef: “Yeah, that’s why she doesn’t work for me anymore.”

turns out he has repeatedly had to get HR involved because of her behavior/attitude, resulting in her getting in the hot seat almost every time they have to work together when she just needs to learn when to stop fucking talking to people like that, and Guy agreed that she’s constantly out of line damn near every fucking time they’ve had to work with her, and they’re one of the location’s powerhouse workers. the fact that she still has a job there at all is so far fucking beyond me.

again, it was my THIRD DAY at this location, my first time working buffet service there, my first time working with her, and i barely got through a full sentence trying to be helpful and expedite things before she decides to take it upon herself to waste her own time by trying to break years of “doing more than your job description instead of simply doing nothing when you have no active tasks” conditioning in the most condescending way i could have possibly conceived of.

i’m so fucking insulted i’m seriously considering telling Chef not to volunteer me for any more temp shifts over there until i’m not at risk of having to work with her, because if she doesn’t learn to talk to me like i’m a fellow fucking human being, i will end up losing my temper, and i will certainly be asked not to come back regardless. i’ll just have less choice in the matter.

i might have to figure something out for seasonal work anyway while things are getting squared back away at my usual site, but i’d rather take my chances with a second job than risk having to deal with this fucking bullshit, and i don’t think i’ve made the best first impression at this other site anyway.

Posted by admin Rodney

[animebw]

So, I've been getting almost all my hibike euphonium knowledge from osmosis from what you say. So I wanted to know how integral to the plot is that guy some people ship kumiko with (never learned his name), not only in this season, but in the previous ones too.

Because I don't think you mentioned him at all while talking about this season, other then kumiko being tired when people think they are dating, but I have seem some people say that they did end up together bc something something hair clip in the epilogue?

Also wanted to know if they dropped or dealt with the Reina crush on the teacher thing

You do seem to cherish this show a lot, so I do wanted to check it out myself, but these two things are the only things holding me back at this moment

So here's what actually happens: in the original novels, Kumiko and Shu get together at the end. Unambiguously. She confesses, he gives her the hairclip back, it's a whole big scene.

In the show, Shuichi has maybe twenty lines of dialogue across the entire final season, not a single of which has romantic implications or framing, he has a single line of dialogue in the entire final episode, and then we see Kumiko has the hairpin in the epilogue but it's not commented upon and Shuichi is never seen again.

Last week when episode 12 aired, the original author Ayano Takeda posted on Twitter that she was happy with the changes KyoAni made, and she encouraged fans to appreciate her novels and KyoAni's adaptation as equally valid interpretations of the same story. There was, however, a follow-up tweet where she further clarified that she had the final say on any changes the show made, and if Hanada or Ishihara or whoever proposed a change she wasn't fond of, it was ultimately her call whether to let it happen or not. So what this feels like to me? Is a compromise. A compromise between Takeda's original vision and KyoAni just very obviously not giving a single shit about Kumiko and Shuichi as a couple.

Now, KyoAni's been changing things in Eupho ever since the first season, and in fact, most of their shows diverge pretty heavily from the source material. And since I haven't read the original novels, I only have secondhand knowledge on what KyoAni added or took away. But what I have heard is that while all of Kumiko and Reina's subtext is still there in the novels, Shuichi has a far more visible role in Kumiko's life, with many more scenes dedicated to them as a romantic subplot. In fact, I've heard there were a few scenes in season one between Kumiko and Reina that were originally between Kumiko and Shuichi in the novels. I can't confirm if that's true or not, but frankly, it would not surprise me one bit.

Obviously, I don't know the reasoning behind the decisions KyoAni made. But looking at Hibike as a whole, it feels like they looked at this story with a pretty standard het relationship subplot and realized there was actually a far more compelling love story lurking just underneath the surface, one that Takeda herself didn't seem to realize was as special as it was. So when they turned it into an anime, they made the conscious choice to downplay Shuichi's role as much as possible and cash all their chips on centering her relationship with Reina as the real heart and soul of the story. And over the course of nine years, they supported that story as much as they could, finding every way possible to prioritize them in the narrative and frame them with the cinematic language they've deployed for so many straight couples in the past, while simultaneously refusing to give Kumiko even a single moment where she appears romantically interested in Shuichi.

And I want to stress that last point in particular: outside of that one scene in the Year 2 movie where Shuichi almost kisses her, every single interaction Kumiko's had with the idea of being in a relationship with Shuichi has been "Oh HELL no." She's constantly avoiding him in their first year, she can barely work up the effort to be civil to him while they're actually dating, and it's only after they break up that they're able to be on good terms with each other as friends. Even in this final season, there hasn't been a single moment where it's felt like either of them were considering getting back together. Shuichi's just been happy to support her, and Kumiko feels comfortable around him for the first time ever, and that's the extent of it. It's only the comments from the first years that suggest anything about a romantic subplot still ongoing between them, but none of that is reflected in any of their onscreen moments.

Like, even putting Kumirei aside, there is just no romantic tension between them anymore. Not even in a "Wow, where did that romantic moment come from? That was so forced out of nowhere!" sort of situation- the love story between them is completely nonexistent at this point. The only evidence in this entire fucking season that they start dating again is Kumiko having the hairpin in the epilogue (which, side note, hasn't been brought up all season either), which, frankly, is so open to interpretation that Bandai's shareholders are salivating in jealousy. Sure, maybe it does mean Shuichi asked her again and she accepted, but it could just as easily mean he gave it to her free of charge and accepted she didn't think of him that way. Or it could even mean he gave it to her and said something like "Once Reina finally gets turned down by Taki-sensei, make sure you give this to her, I think it'll be put to far better use that way." And frankly, that last interpretation is way more supported by the show I just watched than simply them getting back together.

The point is, KyoAni does not care about Kumiko and Shuichi getting together. It has never cared about Kumiko and Shuichi getting together. Honestly, my crack theory is the reason they sped through Kumiko's second year in a movie is to get through her Dating Shuichi arc as fast as humanly possibly. But Takeda clearly does care about them getting together, considering that's what happened in the novels. And I suspect that's one thing she decided not to budge on when they were in conversations discussing the changes KyoAni wanted to make. So to compromise, KyoAni put in the barest minimum effort to suggest things technically played out like they did in the novels- "Look, she's got his hairpin! That means they got back together!"- while refusing to spend a single solitary second on it beyond that and removing any explicit confirmation so everyone who doesn't care about them as a couple- KyoAni included- can interpret it otherwise and be fully justified in doing so.

Because from start to finish, through the entirety of this season, the love story that stood at the center of everything was Kumirei. Every last plot beat, every last thematic throughline, every last bit of swelling music and romantic framing and effort spent making you root for two people to stay together, it was always them and no one else. Even the big change they made in episode 12 where Kumiko loses the soli only further cements their story as the story of this show, with Reina's utter devastation at losing her only confirming just how special Kumiko was to her in a way not even Taki-sensei truly measures up to. I've said it in the past, but even moreso now than ever, it is impossible to look at the arc of Hibike Euphonium and not see a love story between these two girls, a story about just how fucking much they mean to each other and all the reasons their connection was something unlike anything else on this earth.

And if you choose to see it as a story of Kumiko and Shuichi getting together instead? Then you are actively fighting against what the show is communicating to you every second of every episode. You are, in fact, the delusional shipper inventing a romantic subplot where none exists. You are everything that yuri shippers are accused of being when they choose to actively engage with the text as it exists and not as you imagine it to be. Because as open-ended as the ending is, as straight as it pretends to be, it is far easier to imagine a future where Kumiko and Reina reunite as lovers than a future where she somehow falls for the guy she's never shown any interest in before. Frankly, if I was a Shuichi truther I'd feel pretty insulted by this ending! "What do you mean their entire subplot is cut out and it's only half-assedly implied in the epilogue that it totally happened offscreen? What is this bullshit?!"

This is why I chafe so strongly against the queerbaiting label. I watched three seasons of BBC Sherlock, I know full well what queerbaiting looks like. But a love story like this does not happen out of malice. It only happens because every single person involved, from animators to voice actors to directors and everyone in between, believes in it so strongly that they're willing to push as hard as they can to make it as real as physically possible within the limitations at their disposal. Kumirei is Hibike. Their story is Hibike. And if KyoAni can't convince Takeda to let them embrace it fully, well, they can at least wrestle her to a stalemate that allows that interpretation to still be possible- and, even, more plausible than the direction she initially took it down.

Adaptation is an art of making changes. It requires a text to stand on its own, fully apart from whatever source it sprang from. And KyoAni in particular has always embraced the philosophy of treating adaptation not as a one-to-one copy machine like so many of its contemporaries, but an opportunity to build something entirely new. All of its shows are, first and foremost, shows before they're translations of their source material, works of art designed to be taken as wholly complete experiences however much they resemble their inspirations or not. In Hibike! Euphonium the novel series, Kumiko and Shuichi are canon. In Hibike! Euphonium the TV show? It's flat out impossible to come to that same conclusion unless you're dead-set on believing what you want to believe, evidence be damned. And if you're so obsessed with this mid het ship that you choose to ignore the single greatest love story of all time to pretend it's more plausible, then you're simply an idiot who's opinions aren't worth engaging with.