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ms-demeanor · 8 months ago

Note

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

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maxlarens · 7 months ago

Text

OP: well, that isn't fucking relevant

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: someone tries to threaten your job, oscar has some choice words for him. (OR: the trials and tribulations of being a woman in a male dominated sport)

word count: 2.7k+

an: i kinda hate the white knight trope but i still wrote this lol, it scratches an itch and i think driver!reader did a sufficient amount of defending of herself beforehand. anyway, this is a one shot that's kind of connected to my smau series just a girl. enjoy!!!!! [also standard disclaimer: this does not reflect the opinions of any real life people/companies/organisations/etc. it is fiction. thank you]

You’re no stranger to sexism in Formula racing— you knew going into this that you’d have to deal with thinly veiled remarks about your gender and purposefully obtuse questions from reporters who think they know more than you about the sport you’ve dedicated your life to. You had to deal with it when you were karting, you had to deal with it during your stint in F2, and you have to deal with it now.

The fact of the matter is that some people do not think you belong here, and therefore are entirely unable to integrate the reality that you are very much here to stay, into their worldview. You’re lucky to have somehow earned Lewis’ loyalty, which had brought the Mercedes contract and the support of Toto simultaneously. Mercedes-AMG aren’t making leaps and bounds into the world of feminism, but you’re grateful for the seat regardless. You’re here and not going anywhere if you can help it.

You try your best to stay off the bad parts of social media, so as not to be subjected to the barrage of hate comments and death threats directed your way. You’re tough— but no one’s that tough. It’s fine for the most part. You focus on the racing, how the car feels, your performance and improving it weekend after weekend. You try at least. You’d love to leave your gender entirely out of the mix, you don’t think it’s relevant frankly. But unfortunately, the reporters do. (And so do some choice individuals working on the grid, who just can’t seem to keep their big fucking mouths shut about you.)

It’s disappointing, sure— but not surprising to sit down at a press conference and get a smattering of questions about your rumoured relationships and extracurricular activities when every other driver gets fifty questions practically thrown at them about their performance, or FIA regulations, or the track conditions. The part that bothers you the most is honestly just the lack of interest. It’s like they don’t think anything you have to say about the sport is valuable so they just don’t ask you the same questions they bother to ask the men. That probably is the actual case too.

So— y’know— you’re not that shocked when a reporter from some sports blog you’ve never heard of straight out asks if you “expect to be switched out with another female driver next year?”

The room goes dead fucking silent in a way that you do actually find satisfying. It’s good to know that most of the reporters in the room do know a tactless question when they hear one, or at least that you inspire enough fear in people that they’re waiting with bated breath to hear your response. Next to you, Oscar tenses, you can feel it where your thighs are touching. You can imagine his face right now without looking, that pinched micro-grimace he does. The barest hint of a crease in the bridge of his nose as he tries not to scowl. You want to put your hand on his knee and squeeze it in thanks.

You don’t. Instead, you frown and cock your head to the side, meeting the eyes of the reporter across the room.

Slowly, measuredly, you repeat, “I’m sorry, do I expect to be replaced with another female driver next year? Is that what you said?”

He nods, bringing the microphone closer to his mouth as if you really couldn’t hear him the first time, “Yes, yeah. That is what I asked.”

You hum, pursing your lips as if you’re sincerely considering his question. You can see a few people in the crowd who are cringing already, some of them have been on the receiving end of your tendency to play with your food before you eat it. Your ego feels pretty good about that.

“Why would Mercedes want to replace me?” you ask in your most polite voice, feigning real curiosity to this man who you doubt has done any research at all on you.

“Um,” he errs, some of his former unflappable confidence leeching out of his tone, “Well, to give more women a chance in Formula One—”

You start to speak over him, done with entertaining his ignorance. You bite, “—there are other teams for that, actually. I don’t think it’s presumptuous to say that I’ve earned my seat at Mercedes, or that I’ve proven that I belong here so far this season. In which, I have not qualified or placed below a P7. And I certainly don’t think it’s fair of you to ask if I am going to voluntarily give up my hard-earned seat to another person because you think I am here because of some women’s inclusion effort by Mercedes. And, okay, who knows, maybe I am. But I am not giving up this seat without a fight, nor do I imagine that Mercedes are in a rush to find someone to replace me right now. You’ll have to ask someone to confirm that though.”

You wind down after that, punctuating your point with a firm nod; some of the fight and the fury seeping out as you start to reckon with the potential consequences of your outburst. Mercedes’ PR rep will have something to say surely, you’re just hoping you haven’t crossed some kind of uncrossable line. Another part of you doesn’t quite care as you watch the reporter gape like a fish out of water, feeling rather satisfied that you’d put him in his place.

Eventually, the room recovers and moves on from you. Checo is getting asked his opinion on tyres while you share a furtive glance with Oscar. He smiles approvingly, mouth closed and the apples of his cheeks pushed up into his eyes. You feel the urge to touch his knee again but resist, instead smiling back as covertly as you possibly can. A warm feeling spreads in your chest and you almost forget about the reporter and his stupid question in favour of watching Oscar’s slow-burn smile.

Mercedes is fine with it, it turns out. Apparently, you’re doing the heavy lifting for them in the feminism department and all they have to do is have Toto or someone come out and say a few words in agreement. It suits them fine, they don’t need to take any hard stances and you get the blame if anything goes horribly wrong. That grates at you, of course it does. But you’ve got a seat, haven’t you? You’re not going to give it up because Mercedes are covering their asses like the multibillion-dollar company that they are.

It means you’ve avoided the all-hands-on-deck PR meeting you thought you’d be stuck in tonight, but it’s left you in too sour a mood for this party. It’s some function, fundraiser, something or other and they’ve invited all the teams, drivers and ‘important’ FIA staff. This means there’s an inordinate amount of people here and you’re really not into it.

But you’re still here. You’ve shoved yourself into a cute, strappy, black top, and a denim mini-skirt and you’ve even added some cute jewellery in a feeble attempt to match whatever over-the-top outfit Lewis has arrived in. It’s at least a step up from your usual team polo and leggings, or the Mercedes hoodie that you pull on over it. You’re comfortable. You’re fine.

You pull a hand out of the pocket of your oversized leather jacket as Oscar comes back over with your beer. You smile at the expression on his face as you take the neck in between your fingers. He’s scowling openly, the corners of his lips curled up in distaste.

“Busy?” you ask, then you hold up the beer in thanks, “Cheers, by the way.”

“Hmm, too crowded,” he affirms, “I lost Lando.”

You shrug, taking a swig of the refreshingly cold beer, “Actually? Or did he run off with someone?”

Oscar snorts, “Yeah, no. He got into a conversation with Max.”

You laugh, “Yeah, in that case, I reckon we’ll see Lando in a few hours.”

“Definitely.”

The two of you share an amused smile before you’re back to looking into the crowd because sometimes, it’s hard for you to look at him— like looking directly into the sun. You’re aware of him in your periphery, standing there and rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally taking a sip of his drink. He looks away for a moment, and you turn to look at him. Taking in the endearing swoop of his hair, the scattering of freckles and moles on the side of his pale face, the long line of his neck disappearing into the collar of his shirt. You shift your eyes slightly to the right of him, to the patchwork of vents and scaffolding in the ceiling, feigning as if you’d only been casually looking his way.

“That reporter was a piece of work,” Oscar says once he’s drifted his attention back to you.

You roll your eyes on instinct, and groan, “Tell me about it, holy shit, Osc. What an asshole. I don’t know if he was just stupid or legit didn’t know a single thing about me.”

“Mm,” Oscar hums in agreement, “and I like how no one asked you a single question after that. Way to go guys, that’s exactly how you show your support.”

You roll your eyes, still smiling a little at the contented feeling you’ve got in your chest, “I know, right. Trust, they all got on their keyboards afterwards to wax lyrical about how deserving I am of my seat. It’d be fucken’ nice if they acted like it during press conferences.”

“Yeaah,” he sighs, half-laugh, half-exhale, “It’s unfair.”

“Fucken' right,” you gripe, tipping your head back and letting a slip of fizzy beer cascade down your throat— the alcohol, though meagre, leaves you feeling loose, a little reckless, “It sucks Osc. God, I just want to be respected. If I had a dick and balls I’d be fucking killing it, dude. This is my rookie season, I’ve been scoring points every race. Except for the DNF, which was not my fault. But, fuck me, they don’t give a shit.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to stave off the angry tears that are sitting behind your eyelids, threatening. When you open them Oscar is staring at you, frowning, his brown eyes huge and sparkling and sympathetic. They’re like a black hole you want to fall into. Your heart squeezes. He’s so— ugh. Quickly, your mind supplies about a hundred answers to that question: sweet, cute, nice, adorable. Something stutters in your chest and you feel your cheeks starting to grow hot. That slow-burn smile of Oscar’s starts on his face, and you watch dimples form on his cheeks.

The moment is quickly ruined by a particularly nasally Italian accent that you vaguely recognise, “You know,” it says, clearly talking to you, “You should make sure to watch your tone. You never know who could be listening.”

Mood thoroughly dampened, you turn to face the interruption. It turns out to be one of the numerous men on the grid who won’t shut up about you, sharing unsolicited opinions left and right. He has his arms crossed against his chest and a smug expression on his face, as if he’s just caught you doing something terrible— instead of simply complaining about the subpar treatment you’re afforded.

He’s not worth your time whatsoever but God you’re angry. Maybe it’s just been too much shit on top of shit today but you cannot deal reasonably with this man right now— and you are not afforded the luxury of not acting reasonably toward someone like this, no matter how much of a dickhead they are. You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. Close it and bite down on your bottom lip so nothing accidentally slips out. You’re trying to fish a semi-civil sentence out of a sea of fuck you fuck you fuck you on repeat and it’s not working.

“Are you threatening her?” Oscar asks, a dangerous lilt to his tone, and somewhere in the pulse of anger, you think this is the happiest you’ve ever been to hear his voice, “Because, I am pretty sure your team principal would not be pleased to hear that you’re going around threatening one of Mercedes’ drivers.”

He scoffs, trying to play it off, but you think you register a little bit of worry somewhere in there— Oscar can be threatening when he wants to be and McLaren are not exactly nobodies in this sport right now, “Please, I am not threatening her. I am just telling her that she needs to watch her mouth.”

“Right,” Oscar nods, mouth pinching, “Sure. Well, it would be our word against yours and I’m fairly sure your team principal would believe two drivers over you right now. Especially with that history, you’ve got, dude.”

A little thrill goes up your spine as his face goes white as a sheet. Oscar’s talking about the nice little list of comments he’s made that you’ve reported to your team and an FIA representative— which you’ve taken to doing every time anyone starts up a pattern of saying things about you or to you. They’re to cover your ass honestly, so you can’t be accused of making things up if push comes to shove. You’re sure they’ve made their way back to him and his boss; you’re glad they’ve made an impact (but perhaps not enough to stop him outright).

He sniffs, a nervous edge to his words, “I am not threatening her.”

“Okay. Apologise.”

“Excuse me?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, “If you’re not threatening her, apologise.”

You bite the inside of your lip and grip the neck of your near-empty beer bottle tighter. Alright, Oscar can be scary. Noted. Very much noted.

“I—” He quickly thinks better of protesting and looks at you, lips pursed in a thin angry line, “I apologise.”

He looks at Oscar, Oscar looks at you. You shrug and nod. Good enough. You don’t need him to grovel, you think he’s been sufficiently humiliated already. Although, before he scampers off into the crowd at Oscar’s approval, you manage a dry, “You think I need to watch my tone now?”

He scowls, but says, “No,” anyway.

Then he stalks off into the throng of people.

You relax more the further that he gets away from the two of you. The tension dissipates into something warm and charged with a different kind of electricity entirely. You ignore the unease that tries to take root in your stomach and instead focus on Oscar at your side.

“That was—” you scrub a hand over your face, starting your sentence again, “Hm.”

Oscar sigh-laughs again, “Yeah, what an asshole.”

“Thank you,” you say meaning it wholeheartedly, “No one’s done something like that for me before.”

Oscar looks down at you, frowning, he shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you answer, feeling bold as you put a hand on his bicep in an attempt to express how grateful you feel for him, for what he’d done for you, “It’s really not, Osc.”

He’s quiet, staring at you with big brown sparkling eyes for a long long moment. A long moment in which you fantasise about reaching upward and pulling his face down to yours, feeling his lips against your own. They’d be soft, you think— his hair would be too. You don’t think about it and you resolutely ignore the tug low in your gut.

“You deserve it,” he says eventually, loud enough that you can hear it, but not anyone else, “You are killing it, by the way.”

You breathe a laugh, “Yeah, I’d better be.”

You squeeze gently at his bicep, feeling the sinewed muscle underneath his dress shirt. Then you let your hand drop, trailing absently down his arm as you do so. Your fingers brush his hand, and he catches yours before it's out of reach at your side. Purposefully, he threads your fingers with his, squeezing firmly and brushing his thumb tenderly over your knuckle. You feel a little lightheaded when he lets go.

You sigh, masking the out-of-breath quality of your voice, “I need another drink.”

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes, “Me too, I reckon.”

🏎️ title taken from this song :)

#oscar piastri #f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x driver!reader #oneshots:op81 #driver!reader #Spotify

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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 1 year ago

Text

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (M)

★ PAIRING: Academic rival!Haechan x afab/fem!reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4.8k

★ GENRE(S): Smut, E2lover, Rival2lovers

☆ SUMMARY: Haechan and you have never gotten along, and your friend group is sick of it, so they make a bet that the two of you can't ignore. When put to the test, will your hatred for each other still stand?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: 18+, minors do not interact, Meandom! Haechan, aphrodisiac drug, mentions of drinking, sexual bet, sexual intercourse, swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, Haechan being mean, lowkey forgot what I wrote, so just BEWARE.

☆★ NOTES: Yuh! This idea has been stuck in my head for a while. Another saga of me failing the Don't write another hate2love challenge! FYI, I'm not a writer; I'm just a person who writes occasionally. Lovers in e2l not found more of a fuck buddy type relationship. Anyway I just wanted to say thanks for the support on my other fics. I don't usually write that often but the good feedback encourages me.

At this point, your friends were getting tired of it. You two were constantly at each other's throats. They initially believed you could'nt stand one another, but recently, the atmosphere in the room after your shouting matches was too intense to be fueled solely by animosity. The flames behind your eyes burned too brightly for them to be caused by resentment alone. They used to hold you back from lunging at him, but now they wondered what would really happen if you got your hands on him.

Haechan and you had known each other since middle school. You two shared a lot of the same classes, and unfortunately, you both had parents who expected you to excel in school. You were always trying to one-up each other or stamp out the other's resolve. Your relationship was rocky from the start, and even if you two weren't fighting for the top spot, you doubt you would find him likable.

Haechan was a natural at everything. He didn't have to try very hard to be the best; he just got it. On the other hand, despite spending hours studying, you could just barely match his performance. You were jealous of how easy he made it look. The fact that he would flaunt his success in your face didn't help.

“Can't keep up?” He would say after outperforming you on the final exam by 10 points, he had that same smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face on full display. You had spent days preparing for the test, even skipping a few hours of sleep. Haechan never studied; the most he ever did to prepare for an exam was to quickly skim the material a few hours before the test. Even then, he would still ace it.

You expected to grow up and put the rivalry behind yourselves during high school, but he would jump at any chance to make you look like an idiot. You could say the sky was blue, and he would argue that it was actually the reflection of the ocean that gave the sky the illusion of being blue. Back in middle school, you limited all interactions with him for your own sanity. However, in high school, he somehow managed to join your friend group, so you were forced to endure him during hangouts. You eventually got used to his presence and the non-stop teasing. It wasn't until you received your acceptance letter to the college you would be attending with your friends that you thought you would finally be free from him. Haechan's parents had wanted him to go to a college that was 4 hours away from your hometown, and you counted down the days until graduation.

Luck was never on your side.

Due to Haecahan's tendency to put things off, he wasn't able to submit his application in time, and as the school was very competitive, the available spots quickly filled up. Luckily for him, your college had an extended application process, which allowed him to send it in late, and he was accepted. Now here you are two years into college, and Haechan is still insufferable.

You two were on two completely different career tracks, so your classes never overlapped, so at least you stopped fighting about grades. Being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore, anyway. You hated the pressure that your parents put on you growing up. Before, you would have had a heart attack if you saw a B, but now you just shrug them off. Even still, all you two do is just have petty arguments because that's all you have ever done.

“You would not be able to see an explosion in space; it's a vacuum; fire can't exist.”

"Well, I've seen Star Wars, so I think that proves my point.”

“That's Fiction! You know, like the idea of you having a brain,” you roll your eyes.

“Almost like your sense of humor? I was joking. Of course I know that I took astronomy before you," he smirks.

He was constantly trying to get under your skin. You take a long breath and try to calm yourself down. "Well, yeah, because I took a different science asshole." Your friends say it's because you always give him a reaction, but you hate being wrong. You had to get the last word, especially against know-it-alls like him.

Despite your complaints, he isn't entirely horrible. On the days that you two aren't arguing, he's making you laugh so hard that you practically fall over. He's not a complete jerk all the time; it's just that once you two get started, it's hard to stop.

“Oh please, can you two cut it out? You have either had too much alcohol or not enough if you can still think about arguing,” your friend Johnny slurs.

It's Saturday night, and you have just finished off an exhausting exam week. Your friends felt a celebration was in order to wind down from the trying week. Now the only thing trying was Haechan testing your patience. You're at Johnny's house, and everyone is spread out around his spacious living room, bottles of alcohol scattered several surfaces. Johnny’s family was well off, and he lived off campus in one of the few estates that his family owned. The house had two stories and a pool in the backyard. On the weekends, you would spend the most of your time here.

“You're right I came here to relax, not burst a blood vessel.” You sigh and take a seat next to Johnny on the couch. You take a couple sips from whichever unopened can of cheap alcohol is nearby. Even though you could already sense a buzz coming on, it needed to hit harder if you were going to have to deal with Haechan all night.

Hyuck chuckled and found a spot on the carpeted floor. "Sorry, the princess just seemed like her day was going too well; I had to ruin it a little," he said.

Your friend Yuna raised an eyebrow in his direction and smirked as she took another sip of her drink. “For you to hate her so much, you sure do spend a lot of time thinking about her.”

“One point Yuna, '' you smile at your friend's rebuttal. Arguing with Haechan could be tiring, but your roommate always had your back.

“I think you two just need to hug it out... in a room... alone,” your other friend Mark joked.

You dryly laugh, "So funny."

“You scared?” Hyuck says with a wicked grin. He leans back on one arm as he sips on his drink, still eyeing you confidently. It's at times like these that you betray yourself the most. He looks so good with his light brown hair framing his face; it's grown so long now that it covers his eyes if he doesn't push it back. The alcohol must be hitting because now all you can imagine is pulling on the soft brown locks and not out of anger. You must have taken too long to reply, because now he's raising an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn't want to be alone with you even if you were the last person on earth."

Johnny cuts off Haechan's response before he can start. "Want to test that theory?"

Questions run through everyone's mind as you all turn to look at Johnny after his outburst.

“What, are you gonna kill us or something?” Haechan responds wearily.

"No, but I should, with the headache you have given me.”

“So…?” You urge him to continue.

"You two keep saying how much you can't stand each other, so how about we put that to the test?" Johnny closes with a sinister grin.

“I feel like you're gonna say something really stupid next." Mark comments

Johnny ushers your other friends into a huddle and tries his best to whisper in his drunken state.

"Guys, just hear me out? We can all feel the tension between these two. They clearly need to fuck or something, so how about we help them along so we don't have to deal with them trying to tear each other apart?”

“How would we do that?”

“We can hear you, and I am NOT fucking him."

“Oh come on, we see the way you two look at each other; you're both just too stubborn to realize it.”

"Hyuck, don't just sit there; help me out here!" you plead

“They have a point, though; you do want to fuck me,” he confidently adds.

"Please, you would be lucky enough if I poked you with a stick,” you say in distaste.

“Order! Order!” Johnny slurs, "Look, I have a way for you both to prove yourselves,” using his beer can as a makeshift gavel.

“Yeah, where were you even going with all of this? Man get to the point,” Mark mutters as he gets comfortable on the sofa.

“"What if you two take an aphrodisiac together and try not to touch each other? If you can last, then you two will win and show everyone how much you despise one another."

The room is silent when Johnny finishes pitching his idea. You think he definitely had one too many drinks tonight. What kind of plan was this? There was no way in hell you would go along with ANY of Johnny's half-baked ideas, but this one was especially crazy. You were just about to shoot down the idea when another voice interrupted you.

“I'm down. What? You can't stand the idea of keeping your hands off me?” Haechan grumbles upon seeing your reaction.

“what? I was just thinking this is stupid. What do I even get out of this? I don't care what you people think,” you huff.

“How about I give you each $500 if you win?”

“Do you-” you start.

“AND Mark does your homework for 2 weeks.”

“Hey! I didn't-” mark says

“AND Yuna does your share of the chores at your dorm.”

“WHA-!” yuna argues

"Deal," you quickly say before anyone can finish their complaints.

"Dude, this is not what we discussed,” Mark complains. Johnny whispers to him about something, and he perks up a little as Johnny makes him a promise. "Fine"

Johnny lays down the rules for you two. You and Haechan will both take an aphrodisiac pill and be restricted to the upstairs bedroom. You’ll have to stay in the room with each other for 3 hours, and if you two can withstand the 3 hours without touching each other, you win. If you lose, you both have agreed to play nice with each other or at least around other people.

As soon as you both take the pink pill, Johnny starts the timer. You make your way up the stairs to the bedroom, where you often crash on the weekends. This was definitely not how you thought you would be spending the weekend.

“We’ll come knocking when the time’s up! Yuna yells from downstairs.

You pout playfully and mock her from over the railing of the stairs. She was supposed to be the reasonable one.

“Oh real mature,” Haechan chuckles as he shuffles past you up the stairs. The staircase was really narrow, and you could practically feel his body heat against you as he went. The pills' effects haven't even fully settled in yet, and you're already feeling things you shouldn't. If you were planning on winning, you would have to get it together. Maybe this wasn't as easy as you thought.

As you make your way up the remaining stairs, you see Haechan standing by the door frame, waiting for you. He rolls his eyes. "You're stalling."

You murmur under your breath, "I'll literally give you my half of the money if you shut up for the next three hours," but drag yourself into the room nevertheless.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The first 20 minutes aren't terrible. You guys make yourselves comfortable on opposite sides of the room and pick a random wall to stare at. As Haechan makes himself comfortable on the room's lone bed, you take a seat on a little bench that lines a sizable window. You're grateful he keeps his mouth shut. This was probably the longest you two have been in each other's presence without speaking.

It wasn't until about 30 minutes in that the effect hit you. Your breathing grew labored, and your blood started to flow through your veins more quickly. Your body started to heat up. To cool down, you placed your face on the window, breathing fogging the glass. When you looked up to see how Haechan was fairing, he was already looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes as his chest expanded with each deep inhale.

As much as he got on your last nerve, you had always thought he was attractive. His tan honey skin that glowed in the sunlight, his pretty moles that you would kill to kiss, and his gorgeous eyes that always made your heart beat just a little harder when he would glare at you whenever you hit a nerve. You loved seeing him worked up, but the few moments you got to see him when he was happy were moments you stored deep in the vault of your heart. You hated him; there was no time for admiring him.

You tried to shove those thoughts away, but It was as though all the thoughts you had been working so hard to suppress had suddenly surfaced. All you could think about was his plump lips and how they would feel on your body. How his fingers would feel encircling your throat, pressing the chilly rings that decorated his hands against your skin. His golden locks flowing through your fingers as you hold him close. You couldn't resist licking your lips at the idea.

“Don't fucking do that,” he abruptly spoke. He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. He spreads his legs further, trying to get comfortable in his spot across the room.

You try to fight the urge, but your eyes travel down his body to the bulge in his sweats. You immediately cross your legs at the sight. You had to clutch onto the pillows of the seat you were in; otherwise, you don't think you could stop yourself from crossing the room in a heartbeat.

“What? Can't handle it hyuckie?” You coo at him, using the old nickname you haven't called him since middle school. You had to find some ground in this setting. You couldn't let him see how weak he was making you.

"Out of all the times you pick to be a brat, now is not the time," he grumbles mockingly.

“Why? Am I getting on your nerves? Hmm, I could only wonder what that must feel like,” you sneered. You were so horny, it's pissing you off. You decide Haechan can use a taste of his own medicine, and what better way to blow off steam than to get under his skin?

“Maybe they were right. Maybe you do need a good fuck for you to lose the attitude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

"Careful," he smirks, licking his lips.

You know that look; he's testing you. He's daring you to say something else.

"That's what I thought," he says, closing his eyes and attempting to control his breathing.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You're about an hour in, and you can't take it any longer; you're practically rutting against the seam of your jeans, hoping for some kind of friction.

"Please, I can't do this anymore," you cry out for air. You turn to face him, but he doesn't answer. His eyes are closed, and his brows are drawn together as if he's in pain.

“Haechan!” You scream again; this time he slowly opens his eyes, and you suck in a breath as your eyes meet. His pupils were completely blown as sweat pricked his brow.

“Are you giving up?"

You nod in response.

“That's too bad; I still want to win,” he smirks lazily.

"Let's just forfeit; this is stupid!” You stand from where you were seated and head to the door. This prompts Haechan to finally move from his spot as he uses his long legs to cross the room in three wide strides. Before you can open the door, he stops you. For the first time since you two entered the room, he touches you. While keeping his body an arms' length away from you, he is shoving you up against the door by your shoulders. Your body is on fire at the mere touch, and you're grateful for the little bit of space he has given you.

“Calm down. Think this through,” he huffs as if out of breath. “just-just think of the money.”

“I don't care about this stupid bet! I feel like I'm going to explode,” you cry, fighting to escape his hold, but he just pins you back against the door.

“How about I take care of it then? Hmm?” He begs, never breaking eye contact. “I'll take the pain away, baby. Just work with me, yeah?"

"That defeats the point Haechan; we aren't supposed to touch each other; I thought you were smarter than that," you protest, growing increasingly frustrated.

“As long as you keep those gorgeous lips shut, nobody would ever know.” He slowly closes in on you as he speaks. “I help you out, and when we get out of this room, we pretend like nothing happened, and that we still can't stand each other, deal?” He's a breath away. The close proximity, the way he's practically breathing down your neck, and the look in his eyes that tells you he is only about 2 seconds away from devouring you were all you needed to go along with Haechan's scheme.

You stopped listening about halfway through anyway so you nodded mindlessly before closing the remaining space between the two of you. You're pushing off the door and pressing your body against his as you guide him towards the bed. Even though you can both feel your lungs starting to burn, neither of you has the strength to break the kiss. When his legs met the edge of the bed, he sat, giving you both time to regain your breath. He's resting back against his hands, looking up at you, and his legs are spread wide as if he were offering himself to you.

"Come on princess, take whatever you want from me," he smirks as you get into his lap and nestle down against the tent in his pants. You push him until his back is flush against the mattress, then mindlessly grind down on him. You use his chest to steady yourself as you throw your head back and drown in the feeling. You feel Haechan's hands gripping your waist and then traveling up your torso. His hands explored your body as you got lost in each other. Haechan sits up to meet your lips in another passionate kiss. As he deepens the kiss, he clutches your waist tightly to restrict your movements. You whine at the lack of stimulation, but all he can do is smile against your lips in return.

“Be patient baby; let me love on you.”

“This…was…not…a part of…the deal,” you try to finish as he lovingly pecks your lips.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your voice down? Shut up,” he says, ignoring your insistent whining, lavishing your face and neck in wet kisses. Any “loving” he was going to give vanished at your bratty behavior.

“Stop teasing, hyuck seriously. I think I'm going insane.”

You were on the verge of tears at this point; you needed him to give you some type of relief. That's exactly how he wanted you—desperate and needy—not like you already weren't, but he liked to push you to your limits.

“Lay down for me,” he says, releasing his grip on your hips and patting your thigh to signal you to get up. You swiftly move to lay on the bed, and you watch him as he pulls his shirt over his head and takes off his sweatpants, leaving him only in his underwear. He climbs the bed and helps you remove your jeans. As he's tugging the material down your thick thighs, you remove your shirt and bra. He settles between your legs, and you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist. He has to press his palm down against your lower stomach to stop you from grinding against him again.

"You promise to behave?" He prys your legs free from his waist, trapping them against your chest and restricting your movement.

You nod mindlessly, reaching out to grab him and trying to draw him into another kiss, but he pins your hands above your head, using his hips instead to further pin you down.

"Uh-uh princess, use your words," he adds coldly.

“Please hyuck, I promise I'll be good.”

“You going to be a good girl and keep that mouth shut?”

You were exhausted from having to use your brain to come up with a coherent response; you were at your limit. All you could think about was him filling you up, and every second he didn't, it felt like a year of your life span was shaved off. You did cry this time. You were so frustrated with him; he did this all the time. He never plays nice; he always makes you work for it.

"Oh you poor baby," he coos lovingly as he kisses your eyelids and wipes away your tears. "I'm sorry, but I have to hear you say it," he continues.

"I promise to be your good girl; I swear I won't make a sound, please," you sniffle, trying to hold back your tears.

“If I hear one sound, I'm stopping, and you can walk out of this room and finish yourself off, got it?”

You've learned to respond quickly when he asks you a question, so you nod your head with a "yes sir."

This makes Haechan smile wickedly. Who would have guessed that the same brat who walked into the room with him no less than an hour ago could be so obedient? He was definitely never letting you live this down when this was over. He finally decides to take pity on you, kisses down your body, and removes your panties. He threw your legs over his shoulders, and a quick kiss to your inner thigh was all the warning you got before he nuzzled his nose up against your clit as he licked into your entrance. He savored the taste with his tongue before licking up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. The sounds his mouth made as he devoured you were wet and noisy as he slurped away at your essence.

You were fighting for your life above him. Reaching for a pillow that was just almost out of reach, you used it to smother your sounds. A sharp slap on your outer thigh served as a warning to keep your voice down. It was the only warning you were going to get. Soon the pillow is long forgotten as you gasp for air. Your thighs began to shake as you choked on your moans. Your back arches, and you can feel your eyes begin to roll. You were going to come, and you would have welcomed it with open arms any other time, but you knew how loud you could get. He was not letting up, and you knew if you came like this, you wouldn't be able to hold back the scream that's been dying to echo against the walls.

You try your best to fight it off. You frantically push at his head, begging him with your eyes as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to bite back moans. He shakes his head no, but the movement simply adds to the pleasure, and you're about to lose it. You try to get away from his mouth by shifting up the bed, but his powerful arms wrap around your thighs and pull you back down onto his mouth.

"Hae-" His look silences you, and your mouth hangs wide in a silent cry as you spasm on his tongue. It was the most intense orgasm you'd ever felt. Once he helps you ride out the wave, he kisses your pussy one more time before pulling away. As soon as he does, you snap your legs shut, still reeling from the orgasm. His face was practically dripping as he stared you down, hungry.

"Better?" he asks, brushing the back of his palm across his face.

"Mhm,” you reply, causing him to raise a brow, "better,” you quickly follow, using your voice.

Your eyes travel down his body until they reach what you’ve been craving for the most. Haechan was harder than you thought could even be possible. His tip was a furious shade of crimson, gleaming in precum.

"One more baby," he strokes his length before hissing and gripping the base. "Just be my good girl one more time," he begs.

You almost feel bad. The whole time he was teasing you, he was also teasing himself. You're amazed he's maintained this level of self-control up to this point.

“I don't know if I can keep quiet if we continue,” you plead.

“Open your mouth” is all he says as he prys your legs open and settles between them.

You comply, and Haechan shoves your panties into your mouth. You try to object, but he covers your mouth with his palm for added security.

"My turn," he grins before bottoming out inside you. The first few strokes are so deep, you can practically feel him in your stomach. He's trying to keep control; he's trying to be gentle with you because he knows how sensitive you are, but he's slowly losing it. He's going to use you like a doll. His thrusts pick up pace, and all you can hear in the room is skin slapping against skin unforgivingly. The hand around your mouth clamps down harder as he buries his head into your neck.

“Im sorry... fuck” was all you got as he hiked your leg up higher on his waist, trying to hit deeper. His hot breath fanning across your neck and the soft staccato groans he lets out are the only indications that he is close. Your head is in the clouds, and you can't think straight. You barely register the fact that you came again until he bites at your neck to muffle his deep groan at the feeling of your walls tightening down on him. Next thing you know, he's snapped.

He quickly sits up, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he drives his hips down into you, practically fucking you into the mattress until his hips are stuttering. He pulls the panties from your mouth to kiss you in the hopes of drowning out his own sounds of pleasure. His kiss is messy. It's nothing but tongue and teeth as his thrusts grow slopy. He's practically whimpering into your mouth when he cums.He rides out his high before pulling away from your lips. All you can do is stare at each other as you catch your breath. There is a brief moment of silence before you both burst out laughing. He collapses next to you and pulls you close.

“You think they heard that?” he asks, panting.

"Oh, we definitely heard everything." A muffled voice can be heard through the door, and you assume it's Yunas.

You're too sleepy to feel embarrassed as your eyelids begin to droop.

"Don't worry, you two; we'll say you won as long as you don't try to kill each other again." Johnny's muffled voice can be heard next.

"I don't think she'll be able to do much for a while," Haechan muffles. Speaking to your sleeping form more than anyone else.

"I'll get the plan B girl. I gotchu," Yuna voice fades as she walks down the hallway.

She was definitely gonna grill you for the details. She always wanted a run-down play by play of everything that happened.

Soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in haechans warm embrace.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Johnny would call his mission a success. You two stopped arguing for the most part, and the group was able to enjoy more peaceful outings without the two of you turning every conversation into a debate. Your friends were fond of your bickering, but at times it could get to be too much. But now that your relationship with Haechan has blossomed into a….situationship? They were running into another problem.

You two fuck like rabbits.

No matter where you were, you two were slipping off to do who knows what or being all touchy-feely with each other, and your friends didn't want to see or hear any of it. But because you two seemed happier, they learned to cope with it. Yuna bought new noise-canceling headphones to use whenever Haechan would spend the night at your dorm. Johnny upgraded the speakers in the house so that when he had a party and you two snuck away, the music could blast louder to drown out your noises. Mark downloaded more mobile games on his phones to ignore you two when you would get all lovey during movie nights.

Haechan still picked on you, but he saved it more for the bedroom, and you still tried to test his patience any chance you got. You didn't know what you two had, but you didn't mind enjoying it while it lasted or even furthering it. You learned a lot more about Haechan and discovered that you two had more in common than you believed. You also learned he could be a real sweetheart sometimes. Maybe your friends were right all along, and maybe Johnny isn't as crazy as you thought. Maybe you didn't have to be better than Haechan all along.

Rushed ending opps

#haechan #lee haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #smut #right before i post a fic i get the worst case of anxiety it makes me wanna puke #like whats stopping me from deleting this rn 🤔#imma let yall have it tho 🤪

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dansevilpianotea · 2 months ago

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bc dan acts SOO different now compared to wad. sth mustve really clicked in him after doing a solo tour. go watch any video/stream now from that era (ideally not dd bc that was a hightly conceptual character apparently) and you can see that he was trying so hard to be seen as someone else. to get approval from the wrong crowd, as he recently talked about dont get me wrong, i love wad the show itself, but you have to admit that dan hadnt really decided who he wanted to be seen as yet (in a post-coming out, post-phouse univers) before he went on tour, so the person he was during that era reflected that.

it was very hard for me to distinguish the dystopia daily persona to his usual online character because he hadnt really shown enough of that (at the time, post-coming out, mid-hiatus) to be distinguishable from his pre-pandemic, pre-ywgttn depressed lol xd dan character. he just wasnt around a lot. [i think thats what he got wrong with dd. he thought we knew him better than we did at the time but he also wanted to establish his independence from the dnp branding which unfortunately expressed himself as a form of resentment against people who still associated him with that (us phannies). this is why it felt regressive and made me sad, because the dd character seemed like an old, unhappier version of the same dan.]

but now.. look at how happy he is. he is smiling. dan is shining like the sun on a beautiful summer day and is fully embracing his past and his audience.

he doesn't feel the need to crack jokes about whoring it up all over america because he doesnt like commitment or making jabs at his audience for falling for clickbaity 'we are in a relationship'-type titles. he is not resentful anymore. he's not just laughing with us but he is IN on the joke now. he thinks we are funny! and in fact admitted that he doesn't really care about flirting with strangers and is oblivious to being flirted with because he doesnt have any need to.

it seems like he has healed a lot of old wounds regarding his audience. during wad he saw with his own eyes that we arent out to get him but in fact will support him in whatever he's doing. and now this new tour is the victory lap. he's taking phil with him. he is proud to be down bad for his man. 'no fucks left to give' for dan means not putting up the wall anymore protecting his inner child from what it fears are the bullies. he's doing it for himself now, for phil. for them. not for the attention of the wrong people. not for the approval of straight men like those who bullied him. he's doing it for his community of queer people. he knows he's safe here. he trusts us. 'we know you know'. i'm proud of both our community and proud of dnp for that. we really made ourselves get here despite how draining and back-and-forth the hiatus was. maybe the real phan really were the phriends we made along the way <3.

#you know its real bad phandom wise when i write a detailed textpost past midnight while having a uni essay due in 5 days...#im sorry if this is gibberish btw. i spend an hour writing this past midnight and will fuck off to bed now #sage posting #dnp #phan #dan and phil #dnptit #daniel howell #amazingphil

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fool-tarnished · 26 days ago

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"Remember me" - Chapter 1 - Kakashi Hatake x Reader

Synopsis : Born in Konoha, [Y/N] wasn't necessarily known as the most impressive or powerful ninja, but rather for her kindness and compassion. She became like an older sister to Naruto and a loyal, faithful friend to many ninjas in Konoha. Without even realizing it, she had earned a special place in the heart of one particular ninja with grey hair. But everything changed the day the Third Hokage entrusted her with a mission from which she would not return unscathed. Pairing : Kakashi Hatake x Reader If you want to read Yamato's version, you can find it here.

Warnings : Violence, memory loss List : Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // ...

Inspiration : Remember me - d4vd

Words : ~ 3000 A/N : Hello there ! Here's the first chapter of a new story for Kakashi. There'll be many chapters (i don't know how many yet) and i'll do the same one for Tenzo/Yamato if some are interested (with a similar first chapter, but the rest won't be the same). So I hope you'll like it ! Thank you all for the likes and reblog ! And sorry for the mistakes, I'm not a native english speaker.

_________________________________

Long before Naruto left with Jiraiya, the Third Hokage entrusted you with a mission. A mission that, of course, you wouldn’t undertake alone, but whose duration was impossible to predict. A mission that wasn’t supposed to be particularly dangerous either, but it still worried the young ninja, who had asked you to decline it and stay in Konoha.

You and Naruto had known each other for a few years now, and a sort of sibling-like relationship had formed between you. You didn’t necessarily show it, but you cared for each other as if you were almost family. The young blonde deeply appreciated having someone by his side he could consider an older sister: because yes, you were much closer in age to his famous sensei Kakashi than to him.

On the day of your departure, Naruto couldn’t help but ask you to promise that you’d go to Ichiraku together upon your return. That you’d promise to come back as soon as possible and, of course, without a scratch. A promise you made without hesitation and one you hoped to keep.

Kakashi, on his end, with whom you had built a connection during your time in the Special Forces, also came to say a few words before you left. Your relationship with the Copy Ninja was quite peculiar. You were close yet distant, making it complex between the two of you and in the eyes of others. You had never really put words to what it meant, and it hadn’t seemed to bother either of you.

At least, until things began to change for you. You were afraid of not returning, not just for Naruto’s sake but also for Kakashi’s. Yet, the fear was drastically different for each, which led you to question how your relationship with him had evolved. The feelings you experienced at the thought of leaving without knowing when you’d return and see him again weren’t the same as those you had for your other friends—Kurenai, Iruka, or Asuma. Something had shifted within you, and you hadn’t had time to reflect on it before being assigned this new mission.

"Be careful, [Y/N]. You wouldn’t want to miss the promise you made to Naruto. And don’t forget, you also owe me a replacement for that Icha Icha volume you ruined during our last training session," the grey-haired ninja said, with a smile you could easily discern beneath his mask. You left with your team, giving them one last look and a wave. Kakashi didn’t take his eyes off you until you were out of sight. ________________________________________

Crossing the Land of Wind had proven to be more arduous than expected. Whether due to the weather, unfortunate encounters, or other unforeseen events, it took you several weeks to reach its far edge. The team leader was the only one privy to the mission's details, and your task was to ensure their safe passage and protection. After finding the messenger, you set out again, this time for the Land of Earth. It was a particularly lengthy mission, but it seemed to be of critical importance to the Third Hokage, who had strongly emphasized its success at any cost. As for the contents of these messages? None of you had the slightest clue.

The journey through the various lands and the delivery of these messages ultimately took several months. You hadn’t faced any overwhelming challenges—just minor injuries, small delays, but nothing insurmountable. Nevertheless, the desire to return home grew stronger with each passing day. Every team member began to feel the absence of their loved ones, some even missing their children. As for you, you missed Naruto’s antics, the humor of your friends, and… the Copy Ninja, but for reasons that had become much harder to define.

It was during the final leg of your journey that these new feelings surfaced most clearly.

In the Land of Lightning, things took a turn for the worse. While crossing the vast expanse of rocks and mountains at night, you encountered a group of ninjas whose origins and true intentions you couldn’t discern. Everything happened far too quickly for you to fully grasp what was going on. A confrontation broke out, and the team leader made the decision to prioritize delivering the message, splitting the group in two.

This left you with just one teammate to try to hold off the enemies and buy time for the other two to escape.

The opponents didn’t seem particularly strong, but fighting at night clearly put you at a disadvantage. Fatigue began to take its toll, likely contributing to the event that would change everything for you.

As you saw several shurikens speeding toward your teammate, you decided to deflect them with your kunai to prevent him from being injured while fighting one of the attackers. What you failed to notice, however, was the unstable ground beneath your feet. Perhaps it was a combination of exhaustion, an unstable surface, and a strike from one of the enemies that caused you to begin a long fall from the rock where you had been standing. Without fully understanding what was happening, you desperately tried to grab hold of something—but it was futile. Your head struck a rock, and everything suddenly went black.

________________________________________

After spending more than a year and a half on the mission and successfully completing it, the team leader and the member who had accompanied them set out to search for the two ninjas they had left behind in the Land of Lightning.

It didn’t take them long to find their first comrade, who had been taken in by the Hidden Cloud Village, where they were treated and waiting for the team’s return. As for you, however, the story was different.

They found no trace of you—only your headband, which did little to encourage their search given its poor condition. They spent several weeks in Kumo, hoping to uncover information or even the faintest clue about your status or whereabouts, but their efforts turned up nothing.

Eventually, they returned to Konoha, disheartened, but determined to deliver their report to the Hokage and hand over your headband. Yet, much had changed since their departure. ________________________________________

"The mission is complete, Lady Hokage. All the messages have been delivered."

Tsunade carefully observed the ninjas standing before her.

"However, we couldn’t find [Y/N]. Only her headband was recovered. We don’t know if she’s dead or missing."

After uttering these words, the ninja lowered their head and placed the headband on the Hokage’s desk. Tsunade furrowed her brow slightly before picking up the object and examining it closely.

"Tell me everything about this mission," she said, her gaze still fixed on the damaged headband.

________________________________________

"We’ll probably run out of firewood tonight. I’ll go fetch some."

The elderly woman standing beside you gave a faint smile and nodded. She was preparing one of her famous soups, a recipe you now knew by heart. Its aroma always brought you comfort, especially in the winter.

Dressing warmly to head outside, you opened the door and carefully closed it behind you, letting out a sigh. The cold was so biting that you hurried to gather the wood and return inside. It was a ritual you had carried out every winter for the past two years, and to you, it felt as though you had never known anything else. In truth, you weren’t even sure if you had known anything else.

Everything was hazy—you remembered nothing beyond these moments spent in the little house nestled deep in the forest. How had you ended up there? Where had you come from? Why did it seem as though you couldn’t recall anything from before this home?

Poor Yubaba didn’t seem to know any more than you did. She would simply tell you that you asked too many questions whenever you embarked on this inner quest about your past. She’d say that everything would come back to you one day, but for now, your mind and body needed rest.

And you didn’t understand those words either. Why would you need rest? Was it tied to the headaches you frequently experienced?

Taking a deep breath, you firmly grasped the bundle of wood before stepping back inside the house. You placed it in front of the large fireplace that illuminated the modest living room where the old woman spent most of her time.

"This should be enough for tonight. But I’ll have to chop more for tomorrow," you said.

She turned to you gently, lifting the large pot and carrying it over to the table.

"Take off that heavy coat, Fubuki, and come warm yourself up and eat. It’ll do you good. Don’t forget your tea—it’ll help with your pain."

Nodding, you finally shed your warm layers, returning to your usual attire, and sat down at the table. Fubuki. It sounded strange, almost like it wasn’t real. Like everything around you.

And yet, how could you truly question the only things you knew when the rest of your existence was nothing but a massive void?

"Thank you for the meal, Yubaba," you said softly.

________________________________________

"So, how did the training go? Did it pay off?" Tsunade asked, seated at her desk.

"You really think we’d have come back if we hadn’t made any progress?" Jiraiya retorted, hands on his hips.

"We’ll see about that," she shot back, before Naruto jumped in with questions.

Kakashi was outside, seated near the window. Book in hand, he was quietly listening to the conversation inside. Naruto was back, and while the Copy Ninja was glad to see his student again, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of unease at the possibility of a certain topic coming up.

Tsunade had informed him months earlier that your team had returned from its mission. While Kakashi hadn’t shown it openly, he had been eager to see you again. The unpleasant news of your absence had shaken him more than he let on. Something deep inside him had stung sharply when the Hokage mentioned your damaged headband, accompanied by a lack of any additional clues—no body, no clear information about your fate.

He had stayed silent, though his face betrayed more than he intended. The Hokage hadn’t known what else to say and had simply expressed hope: the absence of a body might mean you were still alive, somewhere. And that one day, you might find your way back to Konoha.

Kakashi hadn’t responded. Instead, he abruptly changed the subject, redirecting the conversation to Naruto’s return and what lay ahead. The abruptness of his shift had startled Tsunade, but she didn’t push him further. She could tell he had emotionally shut himself off, erecting a barrier around him that might take time to dismantle. While she had tried to offer hope for your return, even she was unsure if there was anything left to hope for after so much time had passed.

"Well, Naruto, you’ve certainly grown," the silver-haired ninja remarked as Naruto leaned through the window, looking for him.

"And you haven’t changed a bit!" Naruto shot back.

With that, Naruto vaulted through the window. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a copy of the book that always seemed to brighten his sensei’s day.

"I’ve got a present for you, Kakashi-sensei!"

Shaking with surprise and joy, Kakashi accepted the book from his student under the watchful eyes of Sakura, Tsunade, and Jiraiya.

"By the way, do you know where I can find [Y/N]? It’s been so long! I’ve got a gift for her too!"

Kakashi’s gaze froze on the book in his hands. He took a moment to compose himself, considering how to respond.

Sensing that the conversation might take an unpleasant turn, Tsunade stepped in.

"She’s on a mission. She’ll be back soon, Naruto. For now, I believe you have plans with Kakashi."

Kakashi let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes briefly.

"I’ll be waiting for you at Training Ground 3. See you later," he said before disappearing.

Naruto turned to the Hokage, stepping back into the room with a questioning look.

"Do you know exactly when she’ll be back? She promised me ramen at Ichiraku!"

"Maybe we should head to the training ground, don’t you think, Naruto? You’ll see her when she gets back," Sakura chimed in with a soft smile, trying to steer him away from further questions.

"Fine, I guess. Anyway, Kakashi-sensei is probably already devouring his book—did you see his face?!"

________________________________________

After the young ninjas left the room, Jiraiya stepped closer to Tsunade. "Was she killed on the mission?" he asked bluntly.

"We don’t know yet. But I’m not sure it would be good for Naruto to know about the situation right now, especially since he’s just come back. Let him settle in first."

"I’m not so sure he’ll appreciate you keeping this from him. I only saw her briefly before leaving with Naruto, but he cares about her deeply."

"He’s not the only one. But I don’t think he’s ready to hear the truth just yet."

Jiraiya sighed and lowered his gaze. Glancing outside for a brief moment, he turned his attention back to the Hokage.

"The Anbu will eventually find her—or figure out what happened to her," Tsunade said firmly.

The ninja let out a small sound of surprise before smiling. "I see. You haven’t given up. Who knows about this?"

"No one, aside from the Anbu team assigned to the search. It’s better that way."

"And Kakashi?"

A brief silence hung in the air before she replied. "Kakashi doesn’t know either."

________________________________________

Months had passed, and Yubaba’s health had continued to deteriorate. The herbal treatments she made herself no longer seemed to be enough, and no matter what, she refused to see a doctor or go to a village to seek treatment. Despite your attempts to convince her to go to Kumo, she stubbornly insisted that it was pointless and that it would pass on its own. The day she could no longer even get out of bed, you decided, despite her protests, to take her to the Kumo hospital in one last hope of helping her.

________________________________________

After long hours of walking, you had finally arrived at the Hidden Cloud Village. Thanks to some passersby, you were able to get the old woman to a safe place so she could receive care. The doctors informed you that it would take some time, and that it was best for you to return in a few hours while they did what was necessary. This is how you found yourself wandering through the village, exploring the area as if you had never seen anything like it. It was pleasant to walk around in a place with other faces besides Yubaba's, to discover new places outside of the forest you knew by heart. But the noise of the passersby gave you a headache, and you would sometimes grit your teeth when sudden bursts of pain hit you. After a few hours of wandering, you made your way towards the hospital. Night was beginning to fall, and there were fewer and fewer people outside. The small street you were walking through was particularly quiet and empty, which reminded you of the calm of Yubaba's little house. But this calm only lasted for a brief moment. “[Y/N]?” The name you heard seemed to resonate inside you, but you didn't stop walking, simply furrowing your brows slightly. Your progress was halted when two figures suddenly dropped down from the rooftops and positioned themselves in front of you. Ninja uniforms, definitely, with a mask on each face. Exactly the same outfit. You stopped dead in your tracks, opening your mouth slightly as if to protest, before turning your head to see if you could retrace your steps. But two other figures had just landed as well, blocking your way. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I have nothing on me,” you said, your gaze filled with concern as you slowly raised your hands in front of you. The two figures facing you exchanged a glance before looking back at you. “You don’t recognize us, [Y/N]?” one of them asked. You couldn’t even identify who had asked the question, as fear was starting to rise within you. “You must be mistaken... I’m not [Y/N]...” “We’ve been searching for you for months.” “I... Why? I’m just here to care for the woman I live with. I don’t know what you want, but I don’t know you.” One of the two ninjas facing you leaned toward his colleague to whisper a few words before turning back to you. “Did you desert? And Naruto?” The headache was intensifying, and emotions were surging inside you, though you didn’t really understand why. “I... I don’t understand... What are you...?” Your vision was starting to darken, and breathing became more and more difficult. You began to feel an icy chill in your chest as the figures in front of you became increasingly blurry. Before you could finish your sentence or find your words again, everything went black.

#naruto #naruto x reader #naruto reader insert #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi sensei #reader insert

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delulujuls · 1 year ago

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papaya nails and everything nice | op81

hi! i dont really know how to comment on that one, i just get this idea from few videos where oscar actually admitted that he has very interesting relationship with his nails

anyway, is this original? i think it is. is this wholesome? hell yes, we do be supportin in this household. enjoy!

summary: oscar is having an unusual problem but it's nothing a manicure cant fix

warnings: none, i hope that painted nails on a boy arent a trigger

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver (ft. lando)

Oscar had been struggling to get himself together for some time now. As far back as he could remember, he considered himself as organized and put-together person who kept everything in check. However, for the past few weeks he had been the complete opposite—nothing seemed to go his way, he was incredibly scattered, sleeping poorly and was always last-minute everywhere.

This day was no exception to the rule that had persistently dominated Piastri's life for the past few weeks. Hurrying, he entered the garage running late and quickly started changing, not wanting to delay the start of training. His hair was messy, clearly having just detached from the pillow a few moments ago. Y/N observed her friend from the corner of her eye, seeing him struggle with unzipping his jumpsuit. Without hesitation, she approached him and eased his suffering, helping him with the zipper.

"Thanks," he mumbled, throwing a fleeting glance at his friend. Only then did Y/N noticed that Oscar's face was marked by several red streaks.

"Something happened?" she asked, clearly concerned. The recent strange behavior of Oscar had not escaped anyone on the team and she was no exception.

"I overslept, nothing new lately," Piastri casually replied, putting on the jumpsuit and fastening it around his neck. He brushed his hair off his face and only now did Y/N have a full view of his face, where red stripes were visible on his even paler-than-usual skin.

"Yes, that too, but that's not what I meant," she said.

Y/N took her phone and showed him his reflection. He furrowed his brows in surprise but took the phone from her and looked at his face. It was a fact, there were strange red marks on it. After a moment, he figured out why he looked like so this morning.

"They're probably scratches; I must have done them in my sleep."

"Scratches?" she scrunched her eyebrows and involuntarily glanced at his nails when he handed her the phone. Indeed, Oscar's nails could make many girls envious.

Y/N still had something to ask, but she was called to take her place in the car. She didn't have the chance to exchange a single word with Oscar until lunchtime. The couple sat in the cafeteria and as Y/N was familiar with both the old Oscar, whom she had known for several years and the slowly emerging new Oscar, she had never paid much attention to his hands or, more importantly, his nails.

"Has this happened to you before?" Y/N asked when they were both eating lunch and Oscar focused all his attention on what she assumed was his first eagerly awaited meal of the day.

"That I took two portions of rice with vegetables for lunch?" he asked with his mouth full, glancing at her in the meantime "No, honestly, this is my debut."

She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not asking about that. I mean, have you ever looked like you've just met Wolverine?"

"Still have those marks?"

Y/N nodded in response as she continued eating.

Oscar sighed, swallowing what was in his mouth and wondering whether to tell her about the embarrassing nonsense that had haunted him for as long as he could remember. Seeing her curious gaze he decided to confess to her an unusual fact about himself.

"I can't cut my nails."

Oscar threw this statement into the air without much ado. Honestly, at this point in his life where he was and with all the things happening, most of which didn't go the way they should, thinking about things like his unfortunate nails would be total foolishness.

"Oh, really?" she was surprised, but it was the kind of surprise when you hear some fun fact you didn't know before.

"You reacted like I just told you that there are twice as many kangaroos as people in Australia."

"It's quite an unusual thing, you're probably the first person I know who can't do it."

"I don't know if it's something to feel special about, although probably yes since for the rest of the day, I look like I do."

Oscar replied, pointing to his scratched face.

"What's worse," he continued, not interrupting his eating, "Even when I manage to deal with them, it takes a moment and they look the same again. They grow terribly fast."

"If you want, I can help you with them," she offered, glancing at him.

Oscar hesitated for a moment and after that he looked at her uncertainly.

"Could you?"

"Of course!"

Shortly afterward, Y/N's hotel room turned into improvised nail salon. She took her task very seriously, pleased that Oscar allowed her to do anything extra such as cutting his cuticles or giving his hands a massage with a cookie-scented cream.

"You have nice nails," he said when she massaged his hands. Her nails had short square shapes with a matte finish. The color was no surprise; it was papaya orange. "Do PR people dip their fingers in this too?"

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"No, I just noticed this nail polish in the drugstore and I thought I'd take it. It amused me that this color haunts me everywhere."

"Do you do your nails yourself?" Oscar looked at her with a slight shock. "It must be terribly hard and time-consuming."

"I've been doing them for a few years now and as you can see they are pretty simple, so with each time I get better at it."

She replied, taking a bit more cream. She noticed that he was silently looking at her hands; it seemed that he was particularly paying attention to her nails.

"I can paint yours too if you want."

"Mine?"

Y/N nodded and Oscar looked at her, shocked by how effortlessly she seemed to read his thoughts.

"Painted nails aren't for boys. "

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Anyone can have painted nails, Oscar."

"Zac would be pissed at me. PR people probably too."

"Fuck Zac, fuck PR people," she looked him in the eyes. "Everyone has the right to look how they want, so if Lewis can have earrings and tattoos, Alex could have red hair, then you or any other guy can have painted nails."

Oscar hesitated for a while, looking at her uncertainly. He was silent for a moment, thinking hard. However, he decided that it was time to finally do something contrary to the norm. He has stuck to the rules and regulations all his life, so it's time to make a small concession that won't harm anyone.

"Can you make them for me with a shiny finish?"

Y/N smiled and nodded, hurriedly getting off the bed and grabbing her bag with all the supplies. The smile on Oscar's face appeared with each painted nail, pushing away his fears and insecurities.

When the girl started finishing his other hand after more than an hour, Lando came into the bedroom without any warning, complaining about his friends and the fact that none of them had replied to any of his messages for over forty minutes.

When Norris noticed what he was witnessing, he opened his mouth in shock and his eyes almost fell out of his sockets. Both Oscar and Y/N knew their friend's unfiltered chatter, so they mentally prepared themselves for some comment from him. But beside that, he hurriedly took off his shoes and all excited sat on the bed, rolling up his sleeves.

"Oh my God! Will you do mine too?"

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 oneshots #op81 #formula 1 #f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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rarastmblr · 1 year ago

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“Minamoto Teru”

The Perfect Boy — Minamoto Teru

He's smart. Always perfect and answering correctly in academics.

Tests? Perfect. Quizzes? Perfect. Recitation? Perfect.

You can't help but be so grateful when he helps you out and tutors you in subjects that you're having a hard time with.

He's handsome, attractive. No wonder he has so many fans. I mean, who could resist such a handsome face?

His hair; Every strand was so soft to the touch that it felt like a gentle caress. You couldn't take your eyes off it and feel nothing but adoration for the golden hue that filled your vision.

The blonde tresses captivated your soul and forever imprinted itself inside your heart.

His eyes; The blue eyes sparkled like pools of sapphire, reflecting the sun in all of its brilliance. Every time you looked at them, there was a feeling of admiration and profound joy that you couldn't quite explain.

He is invested in his interests and engaging in conversation with him allows one to appreciate his positive outlook on life.

He takes action to bring his goals and dreams to fruition, and is resilient and self-sufficient in the face of adversity and challenge.

He has the poise and class to graciously accept every experience. He is encouraging and motivating of the people he loves and engages with.

He's kind. Some think that he's cruel when he rejects the confessions of the girls who have a crush on him.

But he isn't, not at all. He's not cruel, just straightforward but in a way you'll understand and not hate him for it. He'll apologize and then reject you.

He is caring, tender. He is honest about his feelings and empathizes with the struggles of his friends.

There's a reason to why you love Minamoto Teru but you can't seem to answer such a question when you are actually asked why.

It's because you can't pick which of the many things that Minamoto Teru has that makes you love him so much.

You watch him as he reads the contents of your love letter about your love for him.

As he finishes reading, he gives you a smile. You can't tell whether it's a smile of pity or if it's a sign that he accepts your love.

“I'm sorry—”

The first two words were enough for you to know what his response was.

That had happened years ago, if your memory was correct, maybe when you guys were still first years.

Ever since the confession, you guys have grown distant. From the occasional greetings in the halls to only pass by each other without making any eye contact.

You admit the sudden distance between your relationship was your fault. A day after the confession you were the one who would hide away from him out of embarrassment because you got rejected.

You avoided him like a plague.

Even when your classmates had told you that Teru was looking for you because he wanted to catch up with you and other things, you wouldn't go.

Even if it was Minamoto Teru himself who would walk towards you and try his best to start a conversation, you'd somehow be able to slip away from him.

Now, in second year, Minamoto Teru is still the perfect boy that you always admired ever since you guys first met.

I think back to when we were so close and I would wonder. What would have happened to us if the confession never happened. Would we have been more closer than we already were?

As the both of you pass by each other, a pair of blue eyes look back at the back of your figure. Once? No. Twice.

Unfortunately, you took no notice of the longing gaze.

A/n: This isn't really a long fic, I'm so sorry 🥹. I'm just adding plot to the reader and Teru's relationship. Man I'm a sucker for when the relationship has something like a distance and the guy is the one who is desperate to mend the relationship together again. Also I think I didn't really mention supernaturals/apparitions here 🫣 woopsy.

#TBHK #tbhk minamoto #tbhk teru #jshk #x reader #minamoto teru x reader #teru minamoto x reader #Teru Minamoto #Minamoto Teru

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lacevalentines · 1 year ago

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(madoka magica / rebellion spoilers below. TW: suicide and controlling behavior)

I don't know the direction in which walpurgisnacht rising will take homura's character but I can say with confidence that from at least where rebellion left off that I truly believe that homura made the decision that she felt was the most correct one even if it meant she had to become a monster in the eyes of every person that loved her. she felt that if things were left in the way the law of the cycle was currently running things that it was inevitable that kyubey would eventually capture madoka in her goddess form, study her, and use her to as a source for mass amounts of energy at the suffering of herself, the others within the law of the cycle, and magical girls at large again. this is something he explains very clearly when talking to homura before her transformation into homulilly.

I get so exhausted when I see people try characterize homura as an actually evil person with completely selfish desires and no regard for others. all of her actions, while not explicitly explained outright, when looked at closely always indicate that she does things out of her care for the other girls but feels like she bears the burden of having to do it alone because she believes she's the only one who doesn't let her emotions get in the way of protecting madoka and the others from kyubey and sometimes each other.

I will always use the scenes of her interactions with mami and sayaka in rebellion as huge examples of this. she has no reason not to kill them if she's a completely selfish and unemphatic person that only cares about madoka and no one else when given many opportunities to do so. I also don't personally think she keeps them around JUST because of madoka's happiness either. she very easily could have suppressed their roles in madoka's life with the world rewrite and clearly choose not to. I believe her mocking sayaka and acting in a clearly "evil" manner is deliberate acting on her part to frame herself as a villain. she might believe this would her actions more palatable and will create distance between herself and everyone else to protect them as well as allow her to assert more control in this situation. it is further emphasized how she truly feels with imagery displayed in homura's new world around herself (shoes abandoned on the side of a building to potentially indicate suicidal ideation, a half moon alluding to homura feeling unfulfilled and unhappy with this decision, her dancing around happily before stopping and slowly falling off the cliff side with a similar implication as the shoes).

homura's relationship with the others is incredibly complicated but she cares for them deeply too as they are also people she considers friends, she just had a particularly strong attachment to madoka. we don't get to see as many instances of her interacting with them as we do them interacting with each other as we are unfortunately only really privy to homura's life after she began looping for the most part but we can see it in the way she has expresses concern and distress for them in moments where she believes they are in real, tangible danger of being hurt (she's winces and tries to turn away when aiming for mami's leg and screams out when she believes mami is about to be truly harmed after their gun fight, which neither ever had the real intention of hitting one another with any of those bullets in the first place). her entire witch's labyrinth is one where everyone is happy and gets the lives they desire. why would her labyrinth, which is meant to reflect in-part her inner feelings and desires, appear that way if she didn't truly want that for everyone?

rebellion is so compelling to me for all of this and so much more!! (I could write a whole other post on the way it presents it's freedom with danger vs control with safety question at the end of the film) she is a girl who has repeatedly suffered incredibly traumatizing events and longs for a world where the person she loves and the friends she considers dear are safe. homura is not really the devil, but she wants to appear to be because being the devil would be easier than being a human being in these circumstances.

#I “joke” that i'm a homura apologist but like for real I am LOL #homura's actions aren't holy and good #but I don't believe they are evil either and that's kind of the point #anyway can you tell i've watched this movie like 10+ times #madoka magica #homura akemi #madoka magica rebellion #walpurgisnacht rising #homu #letters from rokkenjima

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libbee · 1 year ago

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Some Astro Observations 🪐

1st house stellium really do have an in-your-face presence. They can be attention seekers without appearing like one. They can be assertive on others without realizing it. Self-reflection is pretty hard for them because they justify everything they do as the natural personality that they cannot change. If others have a problem with them, it is them that need to adjust.

Sometimes, I really do internalize that life is pre-written. "Free Will" is a feeling which is only just a feeling like happiness and anger.

10th house stellium may not always have successful careers or are overachievers. But they can be really great people's person. They may know how to sell their persona, their personal transactions are also quite professional because of how calculative and opportunistic they can be.

Saturn in 8th house does not always give long life. It can give long disease though. It can give life situations where the solution is delayed beyond tolerable limits.

2nd house placements really do value valuable things whether it is possessions or people and even ideology. These are people that may keep touch with all extended family because every person is an asset to them.

Scorpio risings are quite extreme in their persona. Very talkative to very quiet. Very goofy to very irritated. They may be a rollercoaster.

One time I saw a native being very authentic about their life problems and financial weakness. They were too much honest about their problems telling in detail everything wrong in their life. Wow, does this person really trust me so much? Turns out they are a Cancer stellium. This detailed sharing of life story was actually a subtle manipulation to appear harmless and innocent, so that people dont notice their mind game and cunning flavour of personality.

Being in the good books of every single person is essential to a Libra. Their self definition depends on how other people tell them who they are. It is important that people tell them good things about their personality because a Libra can't stand appearing like a bad person.

8th house moon too have extreme emotional drives. This can lead to addictions to things that give extreme pleasure such as food, music, entertainment, social media. They feel everything to the extreme and nothing less.

Capricorn moon really suppress their emotions in order to bear responsibility and appear strong. Their vulnerability can show in other ways that connect the psychic life to physical life such as being obese which shows suppression of feelings.

How we project our own mental images on others and judge/analyze them. But if we withdraw the projection, we realize it was actually our own personality that we saw in others. Even the very bad and worst and evil qualities that you notice in others but refuse/fail to see in yourself.

If you have 7th house lord in 8th house, do warn your partner that they are going to undertake lots of responsibilities and unpredictable ups and downs on your behalf and as being associated with you. Relationship is not just romance and flirting. It is life changing because you become responsible for the well being of someone for a lifetime. You stand with them through thick and thin. And 8th house gives challenges like anything. Though the goal is to tame your mind and neutralize the feelings. Pain or pleasure, all is same. Praise or insult, all is same. 8th house challenges can make you a deep thinker and deep observer who goes to the root of everything. You will realize that it is the bad people and the misfortunes that are the actual eye openers to the truth of life. "But the right way to wholeness is made up, unfortunately, of fateful detours and wrong turnings." ~Carl Jung

#astrology #astro community #astro observations #astrology observations #astroblr #astro notes #astro tumblr #astrology blog #shadow self #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astrology notes #astrology community #astronotes #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology

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littlemsshoney · 8 months ago

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Hannibal obsessed with one of his patients

Hannibal Lecter × patient!reader

Warnings: unhealthy dynamics, obssesive relationship, slight stalking, Hannibal being emotionally manipulative, mental health issues (he caused)

At first you were just another patient, a potential pawn or a future extravagant dinner he would enjoy some Friday night. Another lost and troubled soul that was unfortunate enough to find him.

There was something about you that caught his eye. The way you talked, the way you carried yourself.

However his interest grew like a forest fire, a burning insatiable hunger consumed him more and more with each one of your sessions.

He started taking notes of every little detail of your life and with some research of his own he soon knew every aspect of your life. Where you live, where you work, who your friends are, which cafe you spend your Saturday morning everything in.

He knew that he should feel bad for crossing such a line between a therapist and a patient but he didn’t really. After all, it wasn't that hard. With your social media your life was practically an open book for everyone to read and enjoy and if he didn’t then he was sure someone else did.

Only the thought made him angry. It wasn’t about your safety but more about his hurt ego. He had his eye on you, no one else should change that and he should make it known.

Of course he had always been a fan of traditional courting so don’t be confused when you start bumping into him in the most random places at some point with the excuse of cheering you up even being invited to one of his glamorous dinner parties. All of those situations you tried to avoid and refuse gracefully, not because of being aware of his true intentions but rather because you knew there was a thin line you shouldn’t cross.

So you didn't leave him any other way. He truly wanted to be gentle and kind with you and treat you like the precious, vulnerable creature you were in his mind but you just won’t have it the easy way, will you?

The thought of being patient- one of the tarits he awlways took pride on- now felt like a real torture. He wanted to consume you whole. There was something about you that reflected some part of him, an unknown familiarity of your pain. He wanted to break you down, then pick up your parts and build you up. Then do it all over again.

Your sessions were heavy at least. Raw honesty from your part and emotional manipulation from his all to serve the creation of an intense bond, a codependent relationship.

Your wellbeing and mental health had turned into a chess game and the game was anything but fair. In less than two months your whole well being was hanging from a thread and only he could help you or tear you apart.

One can only imagine the sadistic pleasure he took from your vulnerability and pain. Comfortably he sat at his armchair watching as you fell apart in front of him each week feeling worse and worse. All he had to do was just watch and enjoy, proud of his creation.

In his free time he recalled how beautifully you cried, so broken and desperate for him to fix you but all he wanted was lick your tears and take you in. He imagined you being under him, crying - from pleasure - his name rolling off your tongue over and over again.

Soon he had you feeling as if the whole world had turned against you. You couldn’t even trust your own judgement, you had cut ties with most of your friends -Dr Lecter advised you that none of them were genuine-you had become more and more isolated, you felt like you’re turning paranoid.

And then the final act of his play

“I’m really sorry I didn’t know where else to go” and like clockwork you deliberately walked onto his trap, basically sealing your own fate. All he had to do now is hold his door wide open for you to come in.

And then checkmate. That eventful evening standing on the doorstep of the only person you thought truly cared about you. He let you in and like a wounded bird he took you into his arms with such generosity and kindness in contrast to everyone else in your life. The irony.

“It will all be alright”

You wrap your arms around him, holding onto him for dear life, holding onto the only person that seems to understand you and actually wants to help you. As you cry on his shoulder he rests his chin on your head and gently caresses your hair.

Despite your persistence to resist him you are finally giving in. He kisses the crown of your head and though you know it is wrong you let him. You would let him do anything to keep him and he knows it.

Frozen in place you close your eyes as he kisses your forehead, then your eyes and cheek. You know what comes next yet you do not pull away, you don't resist what’s inevitable. A second passes and he doesn’t move, you open your eyes to see him staring at your lips. Now you know you want it, you feel his hunger as your own and you’re starving for it.

Grabbing him by his expensive tie you kiss him, not gently as he did but with desperation and need to be seen and understood.

Pleased he lets you have control just this once for the rest of your time together. He knew you would soon come to realise it’s only him you ever needed.

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal #yandare hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hannibal imagine

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genericpuff · 9 months ago

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bit out of nowhere but LO Hades reminds me so much to Bojack Horseman idk how to explain it

Oh we've talked about this extensively in the ULO chat circles n such, especially when it comes to the most climactic scene in the show, the second interview:

youtube

The entire tone of the show showcases a very bitter reality with a lot of celebrities and people in power. There are some messed up things that happen throughout the course of the show, but they always feel like they're being used for comedy or brushed under the rug with comedy, because the show is, after all, a comedy. But I feel like that was the point, because it's not until the final season that everything that happened throughout finally catches up to Bojack, and suddenly... it's not funny anymore. There's no punchline. It really reflects just how much people in power don't see their abuse or wrongdoings as "big deals", sometimes they even see it as "just some funny thing that happened", all while the onlookers and victims of their behavior and abuse either become so acquainted with it they don't even see it as abuse anymore until they finally break away from it (Diana, Todd, Princess Caroline, etc.) OR they fight to be heard while the media tries to snuff them out. So then when the consequences finally catch up to them, there are no laughs to be heard, as much as the perpetrator in question may try their best to pass it off as "not a big deal" or believe they shouldn't be held accountable because "it happened a long time ago".

Anyone who sees Biscuits Braxby as the villain here is missing the overall point - Bojack has been responsible for literally ruining people's lives on several occasions, and has never been held accountable.

And yeah, I see a lot of that in LO as well, but the issue is the framing of the story isn't making it clear if it's actually going to have its "Come to Jesus" moment with Hades and Persephone, or if it's just gonna keep celebrating them as the heroes.

There were no consequences for Hades pulling out Alex's eye. They played the resolution out for comedy.

There were no consequences for Persephone turning Minthe into a mint plant. They played the scenario out for comedy literally by the end of the very same episode and then well into the next one.

There were no consequences for Persephone cornering Tori at his job. The entire thing was played up for comedy.

There were no consequences for Persephone raiding Leuce's home. She was rewarded with sex from Hades and it was, you guessed it, played up for comedy.

Just like with Bojack Horseman, we don't see Hades or Persephone treat these situations as seriously as they ought to. They ultimately don't care how other people feel or how they may be affected by their own actions, they only care about themselves. Just like with Bojack, we see Hades enter sexual relationships with women who are in a much weaker position than him, women who stand to lose far more than he would if the relationship went south.

(I need you all to realize that Hades is literally blackmailing her. He is trying to pay her off with a management position or some kind of severance and framing it in such a way to manipulate her into thinking it's 'better' for her that she take the deal, all for the sake of getting her out of the picture because he's with Persephone now. This is blackmail. And the narrative wants us to root for Hades here.)

Shit, I would argue Bojack is still a better character than Hades and Persephone because we 1.) see how the consequences of his actions do affect him on a deeper level (through his anxiety and self-hatred which he spends a long time wallowing in, making his situation worse, rather than seeking help for) and 2.) he actually does eventually start to seek help, but unfortunately there's only so much one person can do to fix themselves when their actions still haven't been brought to justice and their mindset hasn't truly changed; which is what we see in the final part of the show when, despite Bojack's attempts to be a better person, the Sarah-Lynn case catches up to him, and in his final moments up on that stage with Biscuits Braxby, we see his true nature come out - he thinks being an addict should absolve him from what he's done to others.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Except replace "addict" with "traumatized" as many of Persephone and Hades' actions are swept under the rug with "they went through trauma so it's fine". Despite the fact that other characters who have also been through trauma aren't given that same grace (Thanatos, Demeter, Minthe, etc.)

You could also go a step further and call out how the fans themselves will defend their actions as "but they're gods!!! gods were terrible all the time in the myths!" but isn't it funny how myth accuracy only ever comes up when it comes to defending Hades and Persephone? Meanwhile you'll never see anyone bring it up when it comes to Apollo SA'ing Persephone, or Hades having an emotional affair with Persephone, or any of the other number of things that Rachel rewrote for her 'retelling'. It's not funny haha, it's funny yikes.

I can only imagine how the fans feel seeing Hades and Persephone called out must be similar to how first-time viewers like myself felt seeing Bojack be put on the cross by Biscuits Braxby - "you're being an asshole, he's working on himself!" "leave him alone!!!" "the media is making a monster out of him!" "he's really not THAT bad!"

But he is. They are. And unlike Bojack Horseman, I unfortunately can no longer have the good faith in believing Hades and Persephone will have their comeuppance, or the people they've hurt will get their retribution. I have no hope that Persephone will see that she's the Sarah-Lynn of the relationship, a girl who was groomed into an abuser at the hands of an abuser, who had no chance of doing better because the person she fell for pulled her down to his level. I don't have any faith in Rachel whatsoever that she'll manage to end this story with any message besides "it's fine for Persephone and Hades to be who they are, because they're rich and powerful and really horny for each other!"

And Hades doesn't think he has any power over women.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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accio-lo-ki · 11 months ago

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Hii would you have any percabeth fic recs?? I'm just deprived 😭😭

Oh I have a LOT. If you’re as insane about this ship as I am, you’ve probably read all of them but I’m still going to list them down anyway. So, in no particular order:

Whiny Little Pitch by petersgwen - this fic literally made me scream multiple times. everything by this author is chef’s kiss btw. Sports au like no other + exes to lovers

Apartment 305 by waddled - a literal serotonin boost monster of a fic that i’m sure most already know about . i love percy and annabeth’s relationship here, and their characterization. It’s got college romance, olympic athlete Percy, and pipabeth bffism at its finest.

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated at School by lammermoorian - man this one I reread a lot. I just love it so much. Academic!Percy, domestic percabeth, and just a whole lot of charm

Honesty and Promise Me by Darkmagyk, lammermoorian - never thought I would enjoy punk!annabeth until this fic. it has unexpected pregnancy but it’s so well done! fwb to lovers!

For Real This Time by captainjackson, timelesslords - anything written by this pair is a must-read, but this is one of their best! roman!percy and divorced annabeth! the premise is so interesting and the setting even more so.

Murkiest Intentions by inkncoffee - i feel like this fic shows my age, but when i tell you it’s a classic! jurassic world au (it sounds crazy but it’s so good) i’ve been rereading this since high school and it still holds up

Would it really kill you (if we kissed) by greenconverses - i mean, who hasn’t read this and all the author’s works? but it’s a classic in the fandom and it’s a classic for a reason

The Old Guard au by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - this series is so well-written with such a solid worldbuilding you have to binge it this instant go

Love me, won’t you by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - modern romeo and juliet with greece as a backdrop? sign me tf up

the sun stands by petersgwen- if you want pain this is it this fic is pain in fanfiction form

That crosses the white sea by husborth - another well-written masterpiece with percabeth in college

Voice on the radio by PastyPirate - another fandom classic! this one has me giggling kicking my feet everytime i reread it. soulmate au! musician!percy! and friendship bracelets!

The Heart is a Muscle by thebackupkid - I feel like this one is so underrated, but it’s so good and so interesting and distinct! it’s got magic and adventure and fantasy! the worldbuilding again is so good!

Impossible Year by bananannabeth - another pain in fiction form. but this time it has a breakup trope, which destroys me so much I always need years before i want to reread this again. but it’s a masterpiece and you should experience it at least once in your life!!

Game, Set, Match by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss - if there’s a classic percabeth sports au, it’s this. and it has fwb too and it’s just too iconic

Stucco Hearts by ananbeth, writergirl8 - another fandom classic, but this time it’s a soulmate au! this is so so interesting and one of my favorite soulmate aus ever. the worldbuilding is so interesting. another case of it’s a classic for a reason!

Puck It by bipercabeth, jasonmclean - hockey au + friends w benefits. again, another fandom classic. unfortunately i think this was discontinued by the authors but it’s still too good not to read!

Broken glass, no reflection by ananbeth, flyingcrowbar - another (potentially) discontinued fic that I still think about now. it’s a pacific rim au and it’s so. goddamn. good. read it now !!

kiss me once cause you know i had a good night by herecomesthepun - this one is pure comedic fluff and if you need a serotonin boost you have to read it. workplace romance with a twist !

slow motion double vision in a rose blush by herecomesthepun - ooh this one is a high school fwb secret relationship au with a punk percy and a student council president annabeth so basically it’s a classic

and they were roommates by bipercabeth - friends to lovers + college percabeth like no other. another fandom classic

Never Shall We Die by captainjackson, timelesslords - this pirate au series is INSANE it’s crazy good the worldbuilding is amazing it makes me feral actually

Wreck my plan, that’s my man by seaweedbraens - everything by this author is so good they’re a fandom icon but this one in particular i think about daily (tho it’s ongoing)

How to Seduce an Earl by sinfulindulgence - this is hella spicy but it’s also so addicting? i blame bridgerton (this author does so much stuff w this vibe that u should check out too! i liked Revenge of the Duchess as well)

Night at the Museum by lammermoorian - it’s so niche and crazy and camp but also angsty and fluffy and you need to read it right this second ! i LOVE this one

faster than a hairpin trigger by medeaa - this one is the quintessential percabeth fwb college au TO ME. unfortunately it’s (potentially) discontinued, but it’s still one of my favorites.

watch me fall at your feet by maydayparade8123 - this is a really well-written friends to lovers fic that realt explored how confusing it is to fall in love with your best friend like,, it’s a classic but also it’s so real !! this author is a fandom icon but i think they deleted / orphaned their accounts on ff.net and ao3

spellbound by writergirl8 - this is the percabeth hogwarts au. i dont make the rules.

home is where i want to be (but i guess i’m already there) by percivaljackson - fake dating + holidays! this is so well-written!

‘tis the damn season by captainjackson - regency au at its finest!!

This is way too long already lmao i dont have the time to list down everything (i have 700+ percabeth fanfics downloaded on my ibooks app 😭) but these are the ones that i can recall at this time !! Happy reading!

#this got out of hand #percabeth #fanfic #fic rec #pjo #percabeth fic rec

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