#but was literally fighting in the trenches making these

[5sospenguinqueen]

Post Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader

Summary: Back in the same country, Charles realises that the most important thing isn't winning; it's that he was wrong.

Warnings: Swearing, female reader, Verstappen! Reader. Tooth-rotting fluff.

This is the final part!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet and others

YourUserName something in the orange tells me we're not done

7,956 comments

User 1 excuse me, miss thing?!?!

User 2 not miss verstappen posting this on media day when charles and her were spotted in the background of each other's interviews

francisca.cgomes that silhoutte pic is serving 🔥

User 3 just me or does that bear have a ferrari hoodie on

User 4 he is not the love of your life. he is literally just a guy. hit him with your car

→ User 1 nah 'cause does anyone else think charles would run her off the track if she got ahead of him again

→ User 5 wtf that's his girlfriend? he wouldn't try and hurt her

→ User 6 he did push max in a puddle once

lilymhe @ alex_albon why don't you buy me this stuff

→ alex_albon because you don't support McLaren

→ YourUserName excuse me?!?! what is this betrayal

→ lilymhe @ YourUserName i can explain

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User 7 mum and dad putting those cheating rumours to rest

User 8 y/n a stronger woman than me because i would've keyed his car for implying i was sleeping with my teammate

→ User 9 actually it was arthur who implied that

→ User 10 don't drag baby leclerc into this. he was fighting in the trenches alongside us for his otp

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scuderiaferrari just posted

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others

scuderiaferrari P4 and P8. A strong weekend for the tifosi 💪

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

6,459 comments

User 9 i can't decide what i want to ride more

User 10 scoring some points in azerbaijan. well done, team

charles_leclerc why are you not posting the photos of me being #1 wag

→ YourUserName because this account doesn't post papaya, liefje

→ charles_leclerc no excuse

→ lilymhe because you are not #1 wag, clearly i am the only wag for @ YourUserName

→ charles_leclerc defamation

→ YourUserName @ lilymhe you tell 'em, bby

→ alex_albon i leave you alone for two seconds and you're stealing my girlfriend again

User 11 be still my beating heart

mclaren just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and others

mclaren P3 and P5. roll on the points for team papaya (ft mclaren's #1 wag)

tagged: YourUserName

7,321 comments

mclaren we apologise for interrupting your regularly scheduled papaya posts with a splash of red but you'll never guess who this racer was looking at to make him smile like that

→ maxverstappen1 sickening

→ charles_leclerc i am honoured to be awarded such a prestigious title by team mclaren

→ landonorris does this mean i can stop pretending to like y/n now?

→ charles_ leclerc @ landonorris no

→ YourUserName @ landonorris no. you're my emotional support pookie

User 11 so proud of our papayas. they did so good this weekend

User 12 i'd let y/n hit me with her car

liked by charles_leclerc

victoriaverstappen couldn't be prouder of you! 💕

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by victoriaverstappen, kellypiquet and others

maxverstappen1 a disappointing dnf but very pleased for the less-famous verstappen 🧡

8,066 comments

redbullracing still made us proud. we'll come back stronger in france

kellypiquet well done y/n. p was cheering you on

→ YourUserName tell her i'm coming over for a pizza party soon! 🥰

YourUserName i swear he loves me really, guys

→ charles_leclerc well he threatened to run me off the track if i didn't fix things so i'd say he does

→ maxverstappen1 for legal reasons, this is a joke

→ YourUserName ah, so that's why you apologised. not because of your undying love for me

landonorris feel like that should say the more talented verstappen

liked by YourUserName, charles_leclerc

danielricciardo don't let this fool you. the man was close to tears when y/n was p1 with just one lap to go

→ danielricciardo and then cried when her tire burst

→ danielricciardo and then cried when she finished p3

→ maxverstappen1 i'll sue you for defemation

→ User13 the Grid seemed to have learned a new word this week

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName ik houd van je

tagged: charles_leclerc

6,124 comments

charles_lecerlc je sais

→ YourUserName never going to let me forget that one, are you

→ charles_leclerc no

→ maxverstappen1 no

→ danielricciardo no

→ landonorris no

→ arthur_leclerc no

→ pierregasly no

→ victoriaverstappen no

→ lilymhe no

YourUserName how about everybody get off my dick

→ YourUserName my only friends here are the lovely ladies thirsting over my hot boyfriend with me

→ User 14 you tell 'em, honey

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

charles_lecerlc as the people on twitter say, i would let y/n hit me with her car

8,593 comments

maxverstappen1 my eyes 🤮

→ charles_leclerc look away! i was going to block you for this

→ maxverstappen1 block me forever

YourUserName wow, not even a tag.

→ charles_leclerc everyone knows who you belong to, mon amour

→ YourUserName yeah, the guy who invented ice cream

→ landonorris @ charles_leclerc at least you know what to do if the racing thing doesn't work out

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Thank you for all the support shown on this series. I never expected such a response when I posted my silly little fic.

I've had so much fun making these. I have a few more ideas coming up but not loads so if you have any, please do request and I'll try my best to do them justice! <3

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Tag list: @mehrmonga @luvsforme @lemon-lav @missenclod @halleest @formula1mount @k4marina @evie-119 @letmeseeyougotowork @sleepybrokenmelle @eiaaasamantha @tinyhrry @janeholt3 @allywthsr @callsignwidow @raizelchrysanderoctavius @prudyhoo @valentinanappipage @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @delululeclerc @e-nonsense @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @butterfliesflyaroundmymind @bloodyymaryyy @kqliie @lifeless-firefly @woozarts @silverxxs-world @personwhoisther @eugene-emt-roe @anthonykatebridgerton @qualitygiantshoepsychic @entr4p3 @carpediem241108 @forevercaffeinated-lee @xyzstar @theendofthematerialgworl @geniusalpaca @chfiosr

#formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #social media au imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 headcanon #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 headcanon #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc headcanon #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x verstappen reader #max verstappen

[skitskatdacat63]

DTS S6E1 "Money Talks" - Fernando Alonso & Lance Stroll

#thought i might as well gif these #only thing in that ep worth gifing..... #cant say im not disappointed #but ill take my chances where i cna get them again #but was literally fighting in the trenches making these #gifing shows is just infinitely worse than gifing race stuff #especially since yknow this just came out today so i had to figure out how to clip it #so if its a bit choppy thats why ah #i love how fernando is such a manlet that i kinda had to crop lance out bcs i wanted to focus on nando LOL #like its so odd bcs he really doesnt look that much shorter than lance on stage in the first two #but in the last two hes literally tiny???? literally two apples tall?????? #anywyas dont know if ill gif anymore of this show. it annoys me too much to watch anymore and i dont know if theres anymore of my guys #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso #lance stroll #strollonso #we do a little bit of f1

[velvetjune]

how am i supposed to take dr darling’s final videos in control and his ominous demise seriously when the first update we get on him in alan wake 2: the final draft is him holding hands with thomas zane

#to be fair it was already silly with the dynamite music video at the end #i just can’t believe for all these years I’ve been #‘oh no is he dead? will i ever see his character again? is he some strange changed higher being?’ #then he’s literally just hanging out in the oceanview making silly science gadgets and drinking with zane 😭 #alan wake 2 #control 2019 #control remedy #thomas zane #casper darling #just finished control (again) with platinum 🥳 managed to do the Marshall fight without assists this time #got very sad over Marshall’s message with how being director changed trench and damaged their relationship #also. lots of suspicious stuff with the board I didn’t fully notice before #final draft spoilers #alan wake 2 spoilers

[justanotherfanartist]

.

#back on my super personal posting bs #last basketball game for the band tonight #augh and misery but at least it’s at Cool Big Semi Circle. Two hour drive at least tho. sigh. #if u from my state you know what I mean. actually wtv it’s obvious idfk Tacoma Dome moment lmaooo #man. last thing of band for the whole year kinda sucks ngl #our band is fucked don’t get me wrong but a part of me still loves it with a lot less cynicism than most of my friends n other band kids do #part of me is like yeah there’s stuff that sucks. but also this is where I’m meant to be and I’m having a good time #the reality is that our director sucks our band sucks nobody practices and we don’t really play well #but in my head #I’m doing well #i practice. a lot. because I like it #All my friends are here #I’m doing what my dad did in Highschool and being like him makes me really happy #which is especially why I’m switching to drumline next year to hopefully be on snare #I’m actually gonna kill myself if I get cymbals i fucking HATE cymbals I will fight my Director on this actually so hard #cus I don’t know shit about percussion #but my dad is a drummer and so is one of my senior friends who is sticking around after they graduate this year #and they’ve both agreed to teach me over the summer #so I’m gonna go fucking crazy hard into practicing so I can do percussion ensemble next year and do drumline too #I’m literally gonna dig in my trenches and fight tooth and nail to get what I want #and I’ve never really done that before #It really feels like I’m determined to prove myself worth of being a snare #not cymbals #not bass #snare #I feel like I was kind of always meant for this; I’ve just been putting it off yknow? #I’m the child of two divorced music majors #my dad is a drummer who was in band his whole life #he loves it. he loves it so much. #my parents moved to New York to chase their dreams and become musicians

[star-girl69]

protective clarisse save me ANWAYSSSS enjoy

*mentions of clarisse picking reader up and carrying her around

PLEASE ignore the fact i forgot ambrosia existed thanks 🙏🙏 yk i just be saying stuff

it starts out like any capture the flag game

except for the fact you’re on different teams

like in so it goes when clar tells y/n “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do”

everyone once in a while the teams switch up

and clarisse has a really hard time when you’re not on the same team, but she can usually function

she’s worried out of her mind obvi

we all know you’re her achilles heel

but for some reason this time clarisse just has a really bad feeling

she’ll probably threaten everyone on her team- if they so much as LOOK at you in the wrong way she’s going to make their lives a literal hell

and everyone is like ok scary lady 🫡

they all know clarisse don’t play about you

so the game is going pretty normal

you’re just doing your thing and clarisse is hunting around you

it’s really funny because you and a few of your siblings are just fighting whoever makes their way to you

and you win every time

bc clarisse is still letting you win 😭😭😭😭

the good members of her team get told to turn around

and then she lets the weaker ones, the stragglers she doesn’t care about, pass through and then smiles when you cheer after winning even tho she can’t see you

you feel her eyes on you tho sometimes it’s kinda creepy

but basically annabeth and the blue team had set up these trenches in random parts of the wood

they were lined with like a bunch of leaves and spare linens so they were soft at the bottom

but someone 🙄🙄🙄 ugh

forgot to soften up one of them and that’s the one you fall into

she hears you scream and she’s like WOAH HOLY FUCK

running through the woods you’re crying at the bottom of this 6 ft deep hole your siblings are screaming

like she literally throws herself to the ground and drags you out of the pit pure adrenaline

and like she could tell just by your screams and the look on your face that you were HURT HURT

but she knows you need her rn so she pulls you into her lap and asks what hurts

and you can’t even speak you’re in so much pain but you gesture to your leg and maybe clarisse just didn’t want to notice it before but like that bitch is BROKEN

she’s literally shaking

“it’s okay it’s okay baby it’s okay someone is gonna go get a healer right? SOMEONE IS GOING TO GO GET A HEALER, RIGHT?”

*cue like 10 random campers all running off*

and you’re screaming and crying and your siblings are freaking out so the game kinda stops bc everyone is like what happened 😭

then they just walk into this clearing and see you pale and crying and leg obviously broken, sitting in a shaking clarisse’s lap

one of her siblings definitely has to come over and subtly say that she’s like doing a good job LMAO

bc she is STRUGGLING

like she’s never been so scared in her life

her heart is pounding her hands are shaking

but for the first time in her life she’s not really angry right now

she’s just fucking terrified

and she HATES it

she’s stroking your hair and has her arm wrapped around your waist so tight

she tells you “just dig your nails into my arm”

and you can’t even comprehend what’s going on so she grabs your hands and let’s you squeeze so hard she swears her fingers come out a little crooked

FINALLY some apollo kids come over with a stretcher

so then she starts yelling at them “BE GENTLER SHES HURT DUMBFUCKS”

then finally after clarisse’s incessant screaming she holds your hand as they take you back to the healers

then 20 minutes later they reset your leg and put it in a little cast and give you some AMAZING painkillers

so you’re like omg

clarisse is like pale and sweaty and her heartbeat is so erratic one of the healers actually has to come over and be like “maybe you should sit down and get checked out..?”

she starts screaming at them

then you’re like “omg no my saviors are fighting ☹️☹️☹️☹️”

“no no i’m sorry i didn’t mean to make you sad it’s fine it’s fine we’re not fighting”

“yay!!!!!!!”

she has to lay down in your bed and take some really deep breaths in order to calm down

and you’re just happy bc you are floating and you have your gf with you

you’re babbling on about something and clarisse is like wtf is happening to me

but also she’s acting like you just died

holding your head to her chest and staring off into the distance like that one painting of ivan the terrible holding his dead son y’all know

and you’re just happy

she’s kissing all over your face and head and telling you about how she’s gonna help you

“i’ll carry you whenever you don’t feel like using your crutches, i’ll make sure you take all your medicine, i’ll find and kill whoever did this to you, i’ll sleep with you every night just in case, and i won’t let you out of my sight ever again, and i’ll make chiron switch the teams back”

she ends up doing all of those things obvi

she annoys chiron so much he makes a permanent rule that the ares and your cabin always have to be on the same team

clarisse becomes 10x worse in terms of protectiveness

like she’s watching you like a HAWK

she just felt so totally helpless in that moment so unprepared and she never wants to feel like that again

she doesn’t think her heart can take it actually 😭

she does find the person and loses dessert privileges for 5 months for what she did!!!!!

she sleeps with you ever night bc the meds make you sleep restlessly and she’s always there to whisper in your ear and lull you back to sleep

even if you’re like oh i can just use my crutches she’s always staring at the ground like it’s a monster that’s gonna hurt you so she’s like

“hm well i don’t think so actually haha just let me carry you”

“I WANT TO WALK CLARISSE”

*picking you up* “no it’s fine this is safest”

“LET ME DOWN”

basically you’re just the love of her life and she can’t imagine something else happening to you

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

[mybrainproblems]

love when media reporters as a part of their article ask readers to contact them via twitter if they also have thoughts about the media they're reviewing and so you do and respectfully tell them they're kinda missing a pretty big chunk of the "real" story about why resi is getting abysmal viewer scores/reviews and they ignore you

anyways. negative reviews for resi are very obviously review bombing by entitled gamers who are calling it horrible bc it's different from the games and "too woke" by virtue of it having a largely non-white cast where the lead protagonist is played by a black woman, whereas almost every game has a white man as the main player character

#no but like literally all of the negative reviews are 'it's not enough like the games' and that it's 'too woke' #that it's not like the games has been in ALL of the press materials they've put out SINCE THE BEGINNING #andrew i'm fighting in the trenches for your show bc it's everything i never knew i wanted or dared hope for from a resi show #seriously this show makes me screech like i never knew how much i wanted this bc i never expected anyone to do a resi adaptation like this #like pls understand: andrew DABB made a show with a largely non-white cast and relatively diverse writers' room and it's fucking GOOD #my expectations were so low and the degree to which they've been exceeded is insanity inducing #and like! this is what we should *want* from folks! to have them improve! #dabbology #resi

[nouvxllev]

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

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

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

[foreverfearlessred]

no but the girlies that get Logan Sargeant GET IT like we were in the TRENCHES at the end of last season waiting for some kind of news about a contract renewal when literally every single seat had already been confirmed like that man is my son and if you weren’t fighting by my side then you can’t speak on him I don’t make the rules

#we’re going through it rn #when he said it was the hardest moment of his career in the statement #watch me do something that puts me on the national news #formula 1 #f1 #logan sargeant #ls2 #williams racing #williams f1 #aus gp 2024 #australian gp 2024

[bigfatbimbo]

HATE SEX RIVAL LUTE idc dom reader dom lute my switch ass would be happy either way i just need need need this 🙏

Lie still, close your eyes girl, so lovely it feels so right —

Lute x reader,, 2.5 words

a/n — I literally did not mean to make this so long, I literally blacked out or something. Anyways, more Rival!Lute shit here, here, here and here. You don’t actually need to read any of those to understand what’s happening, though.

warning — heavy smut, afab but gn reader, VERY SWITCHY ROLES, dom reader but also dom Lute, scissoring, fingering, weird angsty sex, also it takes like 800 words for the sex to actually happen, honestly probably kinda cheesy

summary — After years of fighting with a sinner who’s well gifted in combat, Lute finally looses control and… well… they fuck.

The fight was close, just like always. Every move Lute made to strike was blocked gracefully by you.  Her swift moves were countered by your calculated blocks, followed by your precise jabs in her direction.

Each extermination day, the dance was set in stone. You, a fowl sinner from the trenches of this mortal plane, would be in the very same place each year. Always to fight Lute, a skilled angel soldier with immense training and knowledge on the battlefield. 

The odds should have been in Lutes favor, but just like last year and the year before that, they never were. It wasn’t that she lost the fights, because she would never let that happen. But it was the fact you kept up with her so well that infuriated her. 

Her strikes became tougher, the growl in her voice unmatched. 

“Someone’s angry this time, huh, Lute? You afraid of a good time?” You drew back with a smile, playfulness in your voice contrasted the blow you just laid to her stomach, “Or are you just tired of losing to a sinner?” 

Lute hisses in response, falling behind you and grabbing the back of your shirt, spinning you around to get a better angle, “Don’t kid yourself, I don’t lose. You know that, demon.”

There was not only a venom in her voice, but an anger that could only be explained by the emotion of mild exasperation. She wasn’t tired of fighting or ‘losing’, she was sick of not winning. Her grasp on your shirt loosened when you took a millisecond to examine her position, which conveniently left her stomach exposed, before kicking her hard right where she was open. 

Falling back, she yelped, not expecting the sudden pain. That was another thing that filled her with a bitter rage each year, angels shouldn’t be able to get hurt. And yet, you always managed to make her feel the slightest bit, if not a decent amount, of pain after a fight. 

What she would give to make you feel the same thing, what she would give to make you feel that pain. She wasn’t obsessed, however, no matter the countless nights she’s spent thinking about it. And disregarding what she did to cope on those nights. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to kick you that hard,” You drew in closer with your weapon, bracing yourself to lay a blow in. This year, it wouldn’t be a draw. This year, in your eyes, would be the year you finally win.

Your hands rise above your head, ready to strike, when you falter. Lute was looking at you with her usual glare of hatred, clutching her stomach, and calculating her next move. But it was your weak moments that certain thoughts overtook you. How could it be helped? She looked so pretty. 

“Too slow, now you’re done for,” Lute sneered, smile growing as she lunged at you, spear clashing with yours as you barely block it. Your body’s were nearly pressed together, as she pushed the wood of her spear harder against yours, trying to break it.

Then her sneer flickers down, “What are you looking at?” She pants, catching her breath after the stimulating action. 

“Your have—“ you breath, “—very pretty eyes.” Your eyes don’t falter with contact, until she looks down. Your superficial attempt to distract her, unlike usual, failed to work.

As if snapping out of a trance, she finally analyses the situation. This is it. All it took was that one moment, and your fucking finished.

“Well i’m glad you think so,” she starts quietly, “Because they’re going to be the last thing you see before you fucking die.” 

She forcefully pushes back with the base of her spear, acting too quick for you to strike back, and swiping your feet. 

“Finally,” she almost laughs, “Finally, I win, you vile demon. I win—“

You slide your foot behind her calf and tug her forward, making her fall into the space next to you, leaving you time to roll on top of her. 

The wit in your voice was gone and replaced with bare survival instinct. Her hands go to grab her weapon but instinctively you pin them down. 

With nothing left to do, you simply stare at eachother, catching your breath and panting heavily.

Lute glared up at you with confusion, anger, and then something else. The light fell on the top of your head, illuminating a vague sketch of a halo around it. But you were no angel, Lute knew that. And yet something about the way you were looking her made Lute think, if you told her you were sent from heaven she would not only believe you, but curse god himself for not sending you sooner.

Angels don’t make mistakes, they’re perfectly sculpted to be flawless, and this is something Lute has always believed. Which is specifically why the following events confused her. Your grip on her wrists weakened, given her an opening to break free. And still, that’s not what she did with her new freedom. 

Strangely enough, when the constraints your hands acted as broke, she didn’t run away, or even fight back. Instead, she grabbed your collar, pulling you impossibly close, and doing something no one with the title ‘perfect’ would ever do.

You’ve always tested the limits of what she considered ‘possible’ as an angel. You condemned her with scars, when angels were incapable of getting hurt. You plagued her thoughts with lust, despite the ideas you filled her head with being overtly sinful for heavens standards. And now, you’ve provoked the, arguably, best exterminator soldier into making an irreversible mistake. 

But the extermination wasn’t on her mind as her lips slammed against yours, nor was heavens consequences. The only coherent thought in her head was a simple idea; despite your hatred for her, you kissed her back. Not just eagerly, but with twice as much force. 

And then, for whatever reason, reality came back to her. Brutal rage, no, violence filled her as she felt your lips on hers. To call it rage would be wrong. Yes, she did feel the necessity to cause harm to your well being, but something foreign dawned on Lute at that moment. An animalistic need for you, one that, despite being tainted by her hatred for you, was truly only fueled by it.

In one motion, she rolled you over, pining you to the ground by your shoulders and going back in for another kiss. Your lips were poison, that was undeniable, but the taste was sweet enough to distract from the deadly venom filling Lutes stomach. 

“Look what you’re doing, sinner,” She hissed into your mouth, “Your turning the blessed into the damned, you slut. Haven’t you been cruel enough?”

Her words were spoke with such a blaze of passionate disdain, you almost were at a loss for words. Almost. 

“Your seriously trying to blame this one me? I think it’s pretty obvious, Lute,” You speak inbetween mildly unpleasant, aggressive kisses, arms falling on either side of her hips as she pulls you into her by your shirt collar.

“You’re just dying to fuck me.” 

Your words made Lute temporarily stop, shoving you down and removing her hands from your shirt, and shifting away. 

You smirk at the annoyance on her face as she moves down your body, “Aw, sweetheart, don’t tell me I scared you away. I’d hate to loose the pleasure of your company—“

Her teeth launch into your neck as she struggles to pull your pants down, making you yelp in temporary pain. You feel her smile into the bite mark. 

Lute breathes in anticipation, savoring every moment of her fingers dancing down to your belt, and slipping into your bottoms. How many nights had she spent thinking of this moment in utter, crushing shame? And how many hours afterwards had she berated herself for thinking such vile things?

She didn’t have to think anymore, and soon, you wouldn’t be able to. She relishes in the gasp you let out when she teases her finger to the opening of your pussy.

“Fuck!” You hiss as she slips her finger into your already dripping cunt, “Eager there, are we, Lute?”

Your confidence had already begun to falter. In this fight, it was true, Lute was winning. God, did she devour every shaky breath you took as she began to move her finger inside of you.

“You know demon, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so wet so soon,” Her other finger teased your entrance, as her first one worked itself more aggressively as the seconds passed, “I just thought you’d have more self control. I guess there are just some fights you can’t keep up with.”

You let out a hiss of disapproval, “Fuck— uh, consider it a compliment Lute. That’s just how much I wanted your crazy ass.”

Lute snickered, your comment lacked your usual wit. You were responding for the sake of responding, not because you had anything clever to say. Pathetic, just as she suspected. Just as she always fucking knew you would be. 

“And I doubt you’re doing much better over there, asshole,” You sneer, drabbling on for more than necessary, “Fuck, ah—”

During your fights, one of the things that infuriated Lute the most was your seemingly perfect composure, never once breaking your playful facade no matter how many blows you took. Now, your fragile character was finally breaking.

All the more reason, the next finger she added, she practically shoved inside you. “Aw, look at that. Prideful sinner,” She tutted smugly, “Looks like someone’s a sore loser.” 

Her fingers worked themselves inside you relentlessly. Every single move implied pure, unrequited hatred. It was a sick kind of attention, but you’d kill to have it more. Despite the flirtatious demeanor of yours finally being compromised, you wouldn’t say it was in vain.

No, certainly not when she was finger fucking you so good. The anger was present and unbreaking with every thrust inside of you, only fueling what was the long burning fire of arousal within you. She would ruin you, just as you would do to her, and god, it was welcomed.

Every motion inside your right cunt led to an embarrassingly priceless moan from you, just as your witty comments turned into mumbles of hatred and fowl wishes upon Lute and her kind. 

But just as your climax drew close, Lute pulled her fingers out. She glanced at them proudly, as if standing over a field of conquered enemies. She basked the moment in, before licking her fingers boastfully. 

“You know, I really thought you’d last longer, demon,” She grinned, “But you really are pathetic, you know that?”

However, by then the neediness in your empty cunt had been replaced by a dull irritation at Lutes demeanor. You were enemies for a reason, and it seemed she forgot how equal the two of you were. 

Too cocky, you think, and far too slow. In one swift movement, you flip her over, pining her to ground just as she had you just moments ago. 

“Is that so, Lute? That’s big talk for someone who lost to a demon for years and years.” Your hands go to stop her wrists from shooting up, “I’m really not the pathetic one here.” 

“I didn’t lose!” Lute struggled against your grip, but strength aside, your position prohibited her from shooting up to regain her control. 

“And what to you call this, then?” Your grin had formed again, but it didn’t distract from the aching from your pussy, “Typical angel fashion. You never leave yourself open like that, Lute. You should know that.”

You scorn her as you free a hand to trail under her skirt and tug her panties down. You’re lucky you get them half way off before she jumps up again. Your hands are quick to catch hers, however. 

“Hm, who’s the sore loser now?” You taunt, shifting the position drastically so that you have both wrists pinned down with one hand above her head.

While Lute struggles against your grip, you use your other arm to host her leg over yours, drawing both of your open cunts daringly close to each other.

“Don’t be stupid, Lute. Do you want me to deal with that mess or not?” The mess in question being her, as suspected before, soaking pussy. 

She grimaced up at you. Before she had the chance to bite you back with a useless reply, you started sloppily grinding your pussies together, earning a moan of pleasure from Lute, and a groan of relief from you.

“Oh fuck—“ She curses breathily, leaning her head back and pushing her legs further into yours, chancing the friction between the two of your aching cunts, “This doesn’t— this doesn’t mean I like you, demon.”

“You know Lute, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the past session,” You speak through gritted teeth and furrowed brows as you start to move faster. 

The slick, filthy, slapping noises that filled the area with around you, filled Lute with an all too familiar feeling of anger at her losing battle. 

“Your fucking perverted sinner filth,” Lute spat out, cutting her sentence off with a terrible hoarse moan, “You were the dirt of the earth when you were alive and now your— ah— even worse in hell.”

“Uh-huh,” you remark, focused on the grinding of your parts against hers, having to take a moment to gather a reply. “I get that you hate me, dumbass. You don’t have to waste your breath—“ you groan with pleasure, “—I’d like to not hear your terrible voice right now, thanks.”

“Fuck you,” she growls, but the threat of her bite is nearly completely gone when her sentence is punctuated with the arch of her back. 

Your speed only increased as you felt the building of your climax, and from the way Lute looked right now, you guessed hers followed soon. In all truth, you didn’t really hate the sound of her voice. In fact, the desperation in it  made you swell with incredible pride. But then again, you guessed she felt the same way about you right now. 

“Fuck, Lute, ‘m close,” You moan, mostly to yourself. You thought about throwing in an insult at the end, after all, it seemed like the only way you were able to hear each other, but you decided against it.

She didn’t need to hear you, but you did bask, like her in your desperation, in her cries below you. Despite the immense, and probably foreign pleasure she felt, the jeers never stopped. 

Even in an intamiate moment like this, she was still the “mediocre angel” and you were the “vile demon.” And even closest to both of your climaxes, you were sure to remind each other. 

But it was then that both of you realized, between the switching of positions and roles, the year long build-up to the final ‘winner’ was worthless. 

The fight, just as usual, was a draw.

a/n — THE SONG TITLE WAS ‘Tear You Apart’ BY SHE WANTS REVENGE BY THE WAY. Boy, this one’s been in drafts for a long time.

I forgot how much fun it was to ruthlessly project onto characters! I have no one to thank but my life for being so terrible and confusing and awful and terrible and

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #inbox open #sub reader #lute x reader #lute x you #hazbin lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader

[bloodynereid]

Hello!! I am absolutely loving your R&R fic so far!! If you’re taking requests for more Jordan fics could you do one with a genderfluid reader who is so happy to meet another genderqueer character and they’re just so happy together and supportive? Maybe a cute coming out scene? I completely understand if that’s not something you’re comfortable writing though!! Have a nice day <33

Time and Space

pairing: jordan li x reader (sort of platonic)

tw: nothing really? slight mentions of homophobia, mentions of death, swearing - that's it i think

description: it's your first day at campus and something unexpected happens when you're trying to sort out your schedule.

a/n: ok so i'm not genderqueer myself (even if i do have my own gender things going on atm) so i genuinely hope this is written ok and respectfully. pls lmk if it isn't and i will change anything that needs to be changed. this is also more of a drabble than a one-shot but i hope you enjoy <333

You started picking your way through all the other freshmen that were joining God U. Your suitcase hit different little bumps in the path but you kept trying to make your way to your dorm. Your powers would be incredibly helpful right now but you really didn’t want to accidentally kill someone with how busy everything was.

Supposedly you hadn’t gotten a roommate this year since your application was accepted a little later than usual, a shiver travelled through your spine as you remembered that kid had to die just for you to have a place at this school.

Shaking off the remaining anxiety you finally got to the door that was meant to open your dorm. Clutching your hand on the handle and pushing, your room was opened up to you. It was huge. It probably wouldn’t have been as huge if there was another person living with you but holy shit.

You started going through the motions of unpacking your things and changing into much more comfortable clothes. The 4-hour flight had left your clothes itchy and slightly sticky. Smoothing down the leather of your trench coat, you walked back into the fray of students. 

You heard a chime from your phone and pulling it out you realized it was your schedule. You hadn’t really decided between Crime Fighting and Performing Arts but your powers dictated that the first one was probably the better option. You had the ability to distort or rather bend space, which wouldn’t really do much if you were doing performing arts. Plus you had the worst stage fright. A little note at the end read that you should go check in with Professor Brink’s TA as soon as possible so you had all the books ready.

Taking a deep breath you put up your hands and a second later you were standing in front of the Crime Fighting school. Your face twisted into a smirk as some people ducked away from your sudden appearance before you closed your eyes again and transported. This time you appeared in the little entry room outside of Brink’s office. 

Sitting at the desk was the person you assumed was Professor Brink’s TA. They had short black hair and she was wearing a long sleeve shirt. They must not have realized you had arrived in the little space because she was still typing away at her computer.

“Uh hi?” You said, breaking the complete silence of the room. The person jumped and looked up at you with a frown.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh right, yes. My schedule said I should come check with you about Professor Brink’s class.”

“Hmm let me see that. I’m Jordan by the way.”

“Y/N. Wait… you’re Jordan Li?” Your mouth dropped, this was the person who had literally made you confident enough to actually come out to your parents. They were like the coolest person ever.

“Yes…” Jordan said tentatively as they looked up at you.

“Sorry, I just had a minor freak out. Holy shit, you’re just- you are a fucking inspiration is all.” You stuttered out, the obvious star struck look on your face had Jordan slightly chuckling.

“I don’t get that a lot but thanks. Oh ok yes, Y/N L/N… oh what pronouns do you prefer today?” Jordan asked as a brilliant smile crossed their face.

“Uh just they/them, I think today? It’s subject to change though.” You said as you laughed slightly.

“Totally understand that, it’s fucking awesome isn’t it? Also your powers sound incredible. How much control do you have over them?” Jordan asked hurriedly as she stood up and motioned you to sit over at the couch.

“Enough, so I’m not exactly at an expert level but I’m slowly building up to it. Your powers are so fucking cool as well. The way you just have a million different powers is spectacular.”

“Aww thank you, most people don’t look past the whole gender thing so…”

“Honestly fuck them, it’s a huge part of us sure but it’s no different than being like any other human being.” You said as you stretched out your arms and smiled. “Oh shit I totally forgot to ask but what are your pronouns today?”

“Uh they/she but… subject to change.” Jordan said lightly, slightly mocking your words with a smile.

“Oh fuck you.”

You spent the next hour discussing everything and anything, finding people who actually accepted and had similar beliefs to you was hard in recent years. Especially with being a supe as well. Jordan also helped you figure out your schedule and got you some extra books that would help with classes. By the end of the conversation, you felt like you had gained your first real friend at school.

ahhh ok lmk ur thoughts <3 also the reader's powers are called spatial manipulation (this is a link to the superpower wiki page if anyone is interested in reading more about it). also me actually being active wow.

#gen v #gen v fanfic #gen v amazon #gen v spoilers #andre anderson #jordan li #marie moreau #luke riordan #golden boy #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys tv #gen v tv #maria writes #the boys series #the boys amazon #jordan li x reader #jordan x reader #gen v x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li x y/n

[mysadblacksoul]

Twenty One Pilots 7 - tape theory lol

So I think we all know what happened the other days. The red tape appeared on the covers of the past albums. What is interesting is that the tape only covers the eyes. Yet in case of Blurryface it covers one circle - and since it's Twenty One Pilots we talk about it has a huge significance

So get yourself a cup of coffee and let's break down the mystery 1. The tape - significance The tape was very important element to the previous eras. In Trench it was something that was used to cover what is important, which is yourself. Remember what happened in the Nico and the niners mv? After meeting Josh Tyler was given yellow tape to keep him safe.

But it was yellow - why? Because Bishops can't see yellow. So the tape this coloured can keep you safe. How we know that? Let's look back on Ride, Tyler says he likes to "stay in the sun where he's fine". The sun is commonly drawn as yellow.

In Scaled and Icy era the tape also made an appearance. In Saturday mv, after the submarine was flooded Josh used tape to try to fix it. But it was still the same yellow tape

Now the tape become red. It is usually associated with sacrifice, danger, and courage. But as you can see it is not used by the pilots. This tape is used by the Bishops to cover people/animals eyes. To prevent them from seeing something they are not supposed to.

But is it the first time we see the red tape? Not really, it is the colour that Josh used in Guns for hands mv. And as you can see the tape also covers his eyes...

2. Tape - covering eves

How we know it's Bishops? Well, they are the one who banned music from Dema. It is possible that they don't want other's to see what Banditos were doing, the rebellion. What does the tape cover?

On Vessel, it’s on the eyes of Tyler and Josh’s grandfathers, who in the album art could’ve served as the same vessel for their spirit.

On Blurryface, it’s blocking out the first circle, made for HDS. The bishop associated with that? Keons, the one turned (told you it will be important later).

On Trench it's over the eyes of a vulture, the Bandito’s symbol.

And on SAI it covers the eyes of Trash. Why? Trash the dragon represents a vulture. Citizens of Dema literally call vultures “trash dragons”, it means that they’re covering the vulture’s eyes completely.

3. Covering eyes in lyrics

The lyric from The Outside of course - "I’ve got a long drive, I’ll tape my eyes, so I don’t fall asleep again"

But we can also see eye reference in Heavydirtysoul in "Gangsters don't cry / Therefore, therefore I'm /Mr. Misty-eyed, therefore I'm". And you might ask yourself what the hell does HDS have to do with anything. Well it has a lot to do with Keons. 4. Keons and his importance

So we already established that he is important to this theory, because he is the one who is covered on the Blurryface cover. His name is derived from a Heavydirtysoul lyric, “choKE ON Smoke”. Th

So he is a Bishop but his eyes are covered - why? Well he could be on Bandito side this whole time. Crazy, I know but hear me out.

In the music video storyline, Keons plays a pivotal role in aiding Tyler's escape from Dema and supporting the Banditos in their fight against the oppressive bishops. Keons orchestrates a diversion to allow Tyler to flee and leads a plan to crash the submarine, saving Tyler from the fake bishops' schemes. He also frames another bishop for the submarine incident, leading to their demise. Keons ultimately helps Tyler take control of a bishop vessel to destroy Dema from "the outside". Makes sense right? So it would make him a threat to the other Bishops - therefore he has to be eliminated or blinded. So that he won't interfere with their plan again.

5. Let's talk colours again I know I said that the tape is red. But is it actualy? It could be seen as deep orange and orange also plays a significance in the lore. It symbolizes being a prisoner, like in Heathens mv and Choker mv.

You might say that Heathens is not part of the lore at all. But if we talk colours then Tyler was literary wearing orange while bein opressed and then changed to yellow when he played with Josh. As if he gained the freedom to play music and where the music is prohibited? In Dema

And in Choker Tyler wore orange beanie, as a symbol of still being controled

So I believe that IF the tape is orange it could be a colour of opression. Which would makes sense for Bishops to use it. But overall it also stands for determination and strength. It is sure something that Banditos will need for the final battle lol

And in the rap part in Choker you have "You get taller, bolder, stronger and the rearview only blinds you".

The rearview has a symbolism itself. Meaning, if we knew in the past what we know now, we could have acted on that insight.

And fun thing. The drumset in Saturday was also orange

6. Let's circle back to what we know so far

Well, that the album is comming, which is exciting. That it would be full of lore and that we would see more of the Bishops who are out for blood and revenge

So... I will keep you updated when something new drops!

#band #emo bands #emo #emo quartet #twenty øne piløts #twenty one pilots #tyler joseph #josh dun #skeleton clique #tøp clique #twenty one pilots theories #clikkies #twenty one pilots new album

[thefiery-phoenix]

Hi I have been reading all your works and I'be got to say that its really good I mean like wow anyways I would like to request a platonic y'know fix with the oldies of lookism I mean Charles and tom Lee meeting up and Charles bragging about his child (the reader) there new awards , involvement in the business or you can do the geniuses instead of the reader being a genius she's named as the prodigy and is literally so smart like 400 IQ type shit and she literally saves the company's reputation, every genius admits shes smart and kinda like a learning genius where she doesnt have to copy it but masters whatever she wants to learn isnt a copy genius btw but can you like make the personality of the reader a bit like James like reserved nonchalant etc anyways thank you

Hello and thank you for liking my work, it really does mean a lot to have your support❤️

THE PRODIGY

"Long time no see Choi'' spoke a hulking and imposing man that stood tall and towered over the frame of the CEO of the HNH group as Charles glanced up from his newspaper to see none other than Tom Lee, the owner of the White Tiger Job Centre (Baekho HRM), known for being the best in the business to get rid of people in a sneaky and quick manner. "Oh please, you act like we haven't seen each other in years when we just met 2 months ago'' scoffed Charles slightly but a small amused smirk formed on his face. "You look happy...whose life did you screw over, you old crone?" chuckled Tom as he took out his grey bottle from his trench coat pocket and gulped a large sip of his alcohol from it. "Oh come now, you act like I'm a criminal or something...but I didn't screw anyone over yet...for now'' said Charles as he headed over to the table nearby and shuffled a few papers till a picture of you fell out from the stack of papers as Tom's interest piqued up and peered at your picture in an interested manner

"I didn't know you started hiring girls to do your dirty work Choi...props to you for following gender equality and such'' grinned Tom as he stared at the picture. "Ah, that's my newest recruit. One of the prized gems I've had the fortune of stumbling upon. Her name is Y/N L/N'' spoke Charles proudly as the lines around his eyes crinkled slightly out of pride for you. "This is the first time I've ever heard you praise someone other than those brats Gun and Goo...I wonder what makes this one here so special that has you singing her praises'' questioned Tom as he raised a brow in curiosity, awaiting for Charles' explanation. "In a way, she's kind of like James Lee...an exceptionally skilled and talented fighter, I daresay even stronger than Gun and Goo... she has training of the Indian martial arts called Kallaripayyatu along with Krav Maga which makes quite the deadly combination when used in combat. The advantage of her using her skills is that no one can predict what she might do next. She's even more unpredictable than Goo and James because if someone faces them a couple of times they'd be able to read their attack patterns with ease. But it's different for Y/N, you'll never know when she'll whip out a chain or a knife or just fight with her bare hands... that's what makes her quite the enigmatic fighter, she isn't afraid to fight dirty as well''

"She sounds like quite the catch then...'' muttered Tom as he continued to drink his drink and stared at your picture. "She's even won an award for her literary works as a writer, the Lindenberg award and is quite the over achiever if I must admit...a real prodigy of a girl. My daughter took an instant liking to her as do I. She simply cannot stop singing her praises'' replied Charles as Tom had an amused smirk on his face. "Neither can you and the amount of stalking you do makes me look sane'' answered Tom with a cackle. Charles smirked as he replied "That was mere research...her personality is a literal carbon copy of James, completely reserved and shy and nonchalant'' "Ah, so you're dealing with a touch me not of an introvert then eh, good luck getting that one to open up to you'' said Tom as he snickered and gulped down the last sip of his drink before he stuffed his bottle back into his pocket and glanced at Charles

"Doesn't matter though, I'll have to make her open up...what she's achieved to do for my company was more than what any of the Worker's affiliates could do, they're all mere useless inexperienced children in front of her...'' scoffed Charles as he hummed slightly and his gaze left your photo to focus on the view of the night city before him, several feet below him, taking pride in the fact that he'd gotten to a point where people had to look up to HIM. "You better be careful though...a little birdie told me that Steve Hong was looking forward to meeting with Y/N L/N'' said Tom with a slight grin as Charles' posture stiffened and his jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?" he asked in a soft voice, his tone laced with malice and hidden fury. 'That old bastard...if he ever thinks he can have Y/N and steal MY prodigy from me, he's got another thing coming...he can't have her..no...I'll make sure of it...' Charles thought to himself as Tom smirked, looking like he'd just read Charle's thoughts. "You look awfully nervous of losing your beloved little prodigy...wouldn't it be a shame if someone were to snatch her up like the little feather that she is for someone else to use?" asked Tom, his cheshire cat like grin evident on his face and his eyes glinted with malicious amusement, enjoying the sight of Charles Choi on the verge of losing his cool and his patience on the line

"Let me enlighten you with a little story...a while ago Eugene tried to recruit Y/N to join the Workers and he somehow thought he could keep it quiet from me but failed. Why else do you think I decided to meet with Jake Kim, the son of Gapryong Kim that night? We both know it wasn't out of sheer pity...Y/N is my ticket to destroy the crews and the Workers and expand my empire'' said Charles as he continued to stare at the city beneath him, just how he liked it, everyone underneath him, serving him. "I sometimes forget you're more unhinged and ruthless than me...I can't say if I'm shocked or proud'' spoke Tom as he trailed off and looked like he was pondering about something. "This is coming from someone who strips his clothes off and challenges his employees to a fight to the death. It's a miracle your so called employees lasted for so long'' replied Charles as he smirked at Tom. "Touche old Choi'' grinned Tom

"I'm planning to make sure she stays close to us...to me...at my residence. Of course, I shall fund for her schooling and such'' said Charles after a few moments of silence. "Doesn't she have parents?'' asked Tom with a quirked brow as his amused smirk grew even wider. It was such a sight to see someone like him be so obsessed about someone like you, and rightfully so, Tom could understand his friend's obsession with you. You were a natural gifted fighter, the sort of fighter people would literally KILL and spill blood to have on their side. "Do you think that concerns me? Her father is a software engineer and her mother is a stay at home housewife...hardly what I call a challenge. Her potential will be wasted if she continues to live with them. I've tried to convince them before to send her to me and they had the guts to refuse me even after offering them a fortune...I am Elite...if it means I have to get rid of her parents and have their blood spilled then so be it. It will also prove as a warning for anyone foolish enough to attempt to lure her to them. Besides, I've already spilled blood before, it's nothing new. What's a bit more going to do?'' answered Charles, his eyes glinting with malice as his smirk widened. Tom was now convinced you really were the prodigy he'd heard so much about from the people around who kept on yapping about you. He was just glad he managed to wring out the information from Charles which saved him tons of amount of research as he mentally decided to pay you a visit some day...even if it meant dealing with Choi's wrath which he could always deal with later. The main goal on Tom's mind now was how to get you on HIS side...

#yandere charles choi #platonic yandere charles choi x reader #platonic yandere charles choi scenarios #platonic yandere charles choi imagines #platonic yandere charles choi oneshots #platonic yandere charles choi headcanons #yandere charles choi scenarios #yandere charles choi headcanons #yandere lookism #yandere lookism characters #yandere lookism characters x reader #yandere lookism x reader #dark lookism characters x reader #dark lookism characters #dark lookism x reader #dark lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism

[elsweetheart]

DOM ABBY got me in the subby TRENCHES 😭 i need her to be a periodical re-occuring appearance or i might start frothing at the mouth more than i already am

please cause u KNOW 24/7 dom abby more than likely a stone top too. imagine reader making little jokes like “i could top you 🤨” and getting all cheeky as they say. so much sass despite her head probably being less than or equal to the circumference of abby’s bicep NO ONE BOTHER ME I AM 😞 in despair that this woman is not my woman and living in the same plane of existence as me its a sad day indeed

oh i feel u !!!!!!!!

abby is such an immovable force tht you would literally be sat on her lap pretending to box her in the face saying “listen abs i could fight you… if i wanted to. you’re lucky i like you because i’d win the fight.” and she’s just sat there with her hands on your hips like “uh-huh?” and she’s not giving u a reaction so u keep going “mhm. you know i’m actually stronger than you right?” this one actually gets her to smirk, before she’s lifting her hips under you casually lifting your weight without using her hands as she’s sat on the chair. you get flustered of course, because not only did she prove you wrong but now she’s turning you on ???

you clear your throat, trying one last time. “i could take you.” but it comes out meek and pathetic. she leans forward, lips curled upwards, her eyes on your own mouth.

“yeah baby, i know you can take me.”

and suddenly u don’t wanna fight her anymore ??? hmm …

#anon #abby anderson x reader

[aromantic-goldfishdeactivated202]

How to do Mardi Gras, from someone who has just finished doing Mardi Gras:

Wake up at 9 am. The parades start at 11 but by god you WILL be getting there early

Arrive in the city at 10:45. Drive around looking for parking

Drive around looking for parking

Drive around looking for parking

It is 11:30. You have finally found parking

Discover as you’re walking to the parade that you’re not walking to the parade. You are heading to your dad’s frat brother’s house, because he lives near the parade

Take a moment to erase the memory that your dad was a frat bro from your mind

The house is absolutely full of overly excited middle aged white people. There is one (1) person who is not over the age of 50 and she is very excited to see you.

You know none of these people but they are all talking about how the last time they saw you you were two feet tall. Nod politely and laugh, then run for it

Head to the parade. Your brother declares he has friends further along the route he wants to meet with. Your parents go with him to find the friends so he does not get murdered. This is called foreshadowing

You are now left with a pack of tipsy middle aged white people who are 40+ years older than you and one (1) girl your age. They all start looking for more of their old frat brothers so they can get a spot along the parade

You end up at some tent and everyone is excited to find their old frat brother. You introduce yourself as [dad’s name]’s daughter and pray he recognizes your dads name

He says this is not actually his tent, it’s his son’s girlfriend’s brother’s tent. You and your pack of middle aged white people have just crashed some random guy’s party, but nobody really seems to care

Decide you don’t want to deal with this and head off with the one (1) girl your age to get food. Get completely lost traveling half a block before you find food

Buy food. Wait for 20 minutes to get food. Watch the parade happening out the window and wish you were actually by the parade

Get a series of panicked texts from your father because he thinks he has lost you in New Orleans during a parade and you are dead. This is called foreshadowing.

The parade is over. Nobody is sure which parade is over, because there are three back to back. But this one is over.

Leave the restaurant and discover the pack of now solidly drunk middle aged white people have been kicked out of the son’s girlfriend’s brother’s tent. Rendezvous with the parents and start wandering around until they find another old frat brother whose tent they can crash

They find a tent literally two tents down. There are so many old frat bros at this parade. The pack of middle aged white people, which has grown by at least two couples, crash this tent. You’re just along for the ride motherfucker

A new parade has started. You still have no idea which parade this is

You and the one (1) girl your age push your way to the front of the crowd. Congratulations, you’re now fighting in the trenches for beads

Germs are not a concern here. If it’s not in somebody’s hand or bag it’s free game. This includes grabbing shit off the streets before anyone else can get it. There is no mercy in war. Snatch a bag of beads out of the air before a child can get it and display your spoils of war proudly

A man throws you a hat. You bobble the catch and it falls into the street. It falls to the ground and gets run over by a float. You retrieve and put on the hat anyways. Hat count: 1

Catch a string of the giant honking beads people would quite literally get in fights for. Display your spoils of war proudly

There are rows of stepstools and ladders lining the parade route. The one behind you has been unoccupied for at least an hour. Your ladder now.

With your height advantage you are now more powerful than ever. You have so many beads. You catch another hat (purple). Hat count: 2

Your parents also make it to the front of the crowd. Your mother immediately starts to befriend the couple next to you. Over the course of the parade, you learn their entire life story. He’s in the military. She’s a travel nurse. They are from Pennsylvania. This is their first Mardi Gras. Yelling that it is their first Mardi Gras at people on the floats has nabbed them many many beads

How to get items you want from the float krewes: find someone with an item you want. Point directly at them and make eye contact. Scream, as loudly as you can, the name of the item they are holding that you want. If you’ve done all of these steps correctly (eye contact is most important here) then there is a 75% chance you will get the item, which is much better than normal

Find a man holding a pink hat. Make eye contact. Point. Scream, loudly, HAT. He throws the hat at you but the 13 year old boy next to you catches it. You make a deal with him to get the hat. Hat count: 3. Alliances forged: 1

The parade has stopped moving for a minute or so. The couple next to you is bargaining with one of the riders for a string of the giant beads people will get in fights over. The rider is not convinced this man is military. Photo evidence is not enough proof. The float rides away before they can convince him. Everybody is devastated

This entire time, riders have been throwing rolls of streamers/toilet paper off the floats. You catch a roll of streamers. You copy what everyone else has been doing and throw them across the street. The streamer/toilet paper unfurls beautifully, waving in the air in a perfect arch. You accidentally nail a woman in the boob. You turn away and pretend you didn’t do that.

The one (1) girl your age has caught a pair of shirts. She gives you one. It is Mardi Gras and you have no fucks to give. You change shirts right there on the side of the street. It’s three crawfish in Mardi Gras colors.

Your dad catches a hat (Mardi Gras colors) and gives it to you. Hat count: 4

A pack of old men dressed as Cupid come by. They are handing out roses to people. You get a rose. You realize this is a real rose. You have nowhere to put it where it will not be crushed. It goes in your bra.

Every so often, a group of people near you will know someone riding on a float and will scream their name. A pack of people start chanting for Scott. You also start chanting for Scott. Scott throws you a gray hat. Hat count: 5

Everyone around you is in awe at the amount and variety of beads and hats you are wearing. You are a king atop his stolen stepladder throne. You and your 13 year old comrade exchange tips on how to get better loot from the riders

People are hurling footballs across the street at each other. And streamers/toilet paper. And frisbees. It is chaos

The third dance troupe of scantily dressed old people come by. They are dancing to Dancing Queen. Their choreography is impeccable. You, and everyone else in the crowd, cheer them on enthusiastically

Someone hurls a pack of ramen off the float at you. Food count: one pack of ramen, one pack of off brand Cheetos, one dum dum, one marshmallow chocolate candy thing. You will feast tonight, which is good because all you’ve eaten today is half a bagel and some fries

You still need one more hat to complete your collection. You do the “point and scream” and get a yellow hat. You trade for a green hat with a woman who is friends with the couple from Pennsylvania. These three people are your mother’s new best friends. Hat count: 6

You have collected all six hat colors. Your power is immeasurable. This is how Thanos felt upon collecting all six infinity stones.

You have collected two more (fake) flowers. They also go in the bra. They are stabbing you in the chest because of the weight of your beads. This is fine.

The parade is over. Your mother gives you her yellow hat. Hat count: 7

You want to stay for the following parade in a few hours. Your family vetoes this. You go home sadly

You go home and take a shower because 50% of what you touched today came straight from the ground and that, in the aftermath of the parade, is gross

You go to bed

You wake up the next morning and check your phone. Your dad has sent a text to the family group chat. It is a link to a news article saying that five people were shot and one died at the parade you wanted to stay for that your family made you leave

Dad says “Wow! So glad we didn’t stay.”

Mom says “That’s not far from where [brother] was! So crazy.”

You text “Wow! Crazy” and go back to sleep. You still wish you had attended that parade.

Happy Mardi Gras.

#mads posts #Mardi Gras #this was the krewe of Thoth btw. #fucking wild. someone died in bacchus which is what he would have wanted #i would have been fiiiiine I wasn’t in the area where someone got shot #long post #ily New Orleans this is why I don’t live in the city. bc u pull shit like this

[kisses-for-you]

Nemesis - Carlos Oliveira

Carlos Oliveira X GN!Reader

Summary: During a fight with a creature known as 'Nemesis', you get injured but you try to hide it from Carlos.

Word Count: 1,839

You and Carlos had been trying to find more survivors to gather at the train station, fighting off a lot of undead on your search. The undead, however, were not the only problem.

A tyrant, whose name you learned was Nemesis, was another problem to add to your list.

While roaming the streets of Raccoon City, you hear loud footsteps behind you and Carlos. It can't possibly be more zombies because they're not that loud, so what the hell is it?

You and Carlos turn around and you're met with a terrifying sight. It appears to be a towering, mutated monstrosity with gruesome deformities and a grotesque appearance. Its head is elongated, and its skull is exposed, revealing pulsating, mutated brain tissue. Its mouth is filled with sharp teeth, giving it a menacing and carnivorous appearance. It's wearing a tattered trench coat and looks well over 7 feet tall, making it a literal giant compared to you.

"What the fuck?.." you mutter under your breath, disgusted but more scared than anything.

The creature held a menacing glare as it stared at both of you, just a few mere feet in front of it.

Your breathing becomes faster and more shallow as your heart pounds in your chest. You don't move a single muscle, unsure of what's going to come next.

You glance over at Carlos on your left, who seems to be keeping his composure pretty well. How the fuck can he look so calm?

You have no time to think before Nemesis lunges forward, coming right at you both. Carlos dodges and goes to the left, but you happen to go to the right.

Nemesis whips around, turning to Carlos. You have to do something. And fast.

You decide to whistle at Nemesis, catching its attention, and making it look at you.

"Here, boy!" you call out to it as if it were a dog.

This seems to work though because it starts heading towards you. You start to realise that you seriously didn't think this one through.

Having no idea what to do, your feet stay glued to the ground. All you can do is stand and watch as it gets closer, ready to kill you.

You clench your fists as you feel your palms slowly start sweating. All the anxiety and fear was finally getting to you.

"Y/N!" Carlos shouts to you, moments before Nemesis throws you against a nearby wall.

After being violently hurled against the wall, you crumpled to the ground, clutching your aching ribs. Your face contorted in pain as your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out the distant sounds of Carlos, who was now shooting at Nemesis.

You slowly begin to feel a warm substance coming out of your side. You winced as you clutched your side, where a jagged shard of metal had pierced your flesh. Blood welled around the foreign object. Luckily for you, you were wearing nearly all black clothes, meaning it at least wouldn't stain.

Each breath sent waves of excruciating pain through your body but you weren't the type to give up so easily.

You pull the object out carefully, not wanting to do any further damage. You didn't want Carlos to know about this. You didn't want to make him worry any more than he already was. Sure, it wouldn't necessarily be easy to keep a secret, you could certainly try, however.

You zip up your leather jacket, hoping it will do the job and hide your injury.

You look up and see Nemesis starting to kneel on the ground, clearly stunned by one of Carlos' shots. As soon as Carlos knows it's down, he runs over to you.

"Hey, you good?" he asks, his face tightened with concern as he watched you sitting up against the wall.

You give him a small nod and reply with your most reassuring tone, "Yeah, I'm fine. My ribs just kinda hurt."

You hear him let out a deep sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder and speaking to you, "Come on. I'm taking you back to the station to get you checked out. We need to make sure it's nothing serious."

"I told you. I'm fine." You snapped, accidently.

You don't want to go back because you know he'll realise what happened. And you don't want that. It'll just stress him out even more.

"They'll probably just tell you that you got a bruised rib or something. Let's go, Y/N."

You want to argue back, say that you don't want to go, but you realise that'll just make it more suspicious.

"Fine." You mutter as you finally begin to get up.

You clenched your jaw, determined not to let a whimper escape your lips. Your knuckles turned white as you balled your hand into a fist.

You slightly lose your balance, however, Carlos is right there to catch you. One of his arms wraps around your waist, holding you in place. This kind of gives you butterflies.

"It's okay, I got you. You sure you're okay?" he asks you, once again, now more concerned than before.

"I'm sure. Thanks, Carlos," you reply, not even hesitating to lie right to his face.

Carlos doesn't look convinced as his brows slightly furrow, but he decides to just ignore the nagging feeling that there's something else you're not telling him.

You felt yourself slightly weakening from the loss of blood, though you tried your best not to show it.

Carlos starts to walk back to the station, before turning around to look at you and asking in a teasing tone, "Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?"

You roll your eyes playfully at him before giving him a small, forced smile, "I can walk perfectly fine by myself, Carlos."

He nods and turns back around, in the direction of the station. You manage to catch up with him, now walking at the same pace together.

You made sure your jacket stayed in place, not showing off your weakness to anyone or anything. You also try to minimize any movements that might reveal your ache and discomfort.

You finally get to the station after a couple of minutes of trying to hide the excruciating pain you are currently experiencing.

As soon as Carlos closes the gate, your knees suddenly feel wobbly, like they've turned to jelly. You try to hold yourself up by leaning against the wall, but it's no use and your knees suddenly give way, causing you to lose your balance and collapse onto the hard floor.

Carlos hears a thud behind him and turns around to investigate. You were sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, and clutching your side. You were incredibly pale, and you looked like you could pass out at any given moment.

His brows shoot up and his eyes widen as he rushes over to you, kneeling on the ground. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

You grunt in pain, slightly shaking your head, before undoing your jacket and lifting your shirt, revealing your wound that was still bleeding heavily.

He looks even more surprised as he glances over at the wound, inspecting it. "Y/N, this is serious! Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" His tone was worried, but you could hear a hint of anger as well.

"I didn't want to make you worry..." You start to trail off, realising you don't necessarily have the best excuse.

"God, you absolute idiot," He mutters quietly under his breath before continuing to speak normally, "I'm going to get some supplies. I won't be long so just don't die on me, okay?"

You look up at him, getting more tired by the second. All you can do is give him a small, simple nod.

"Good," he says, before getting up to go grab supplies.

You watch him leave then you look down at your hand, which is holding the wound on your side. It was completely covered in blood. There was nothing you could do right now to try to stop the bleeding. Just hope and pray Carlos gets back soon.

Your vision blurred and your limbs felt heavy. You fought desperately to stay awake. The world around you seemed to spin in slow motion, and every breath was a battle.

Your eyelids, like lead weights, threatened to close with each passing second. Your thoughts grew foggy, and you struggled to concentrate, your mind slipping into a hazy abyss.

Cold sweat dotted your pale forehead, and your pulse, weak and thready, echoed in your ears like a distant drumbeat.

Despite the pain and dizziness, you clenched your teeth, determined to remain conscious, knowing that surrendering to the beckoning darkness might just mean you'll never get to see Carlos again.

You still had so much to tell him. How much you love him, and how much you want to be with him. There was a whole list of things you still had left to say and there was no way you were leaving without telling him every single one of them.

You heard footsteps coming towards you, but your vision was so blurry that you could barely make out who it was.

"Y/N?..." the figure next to you calls out your name. Their voice sounds so distant, even though they're so close.

You feel some pressure on your side, realising the person there was taking care of your wound.

You tried to say something, do something, anything to show that you were still here. But to no avail. Your limbs were heavy and completely unresponsive.

Each shallow breath you drew seemed to slip away like a fading whisper, and your chest rose and fell with diminishing effort.

You could feel a hand start to shake your shoulder. The touch sent warmth radiating through your skin.

They called out your name, this time, however, they didn't sound so distant. They sounded closer. With each breath that you took, it felt like life was slowly coming back to you.

You open your eyes, your vision is no longer blurry and when you look up, you're met with the familiar comforting, brown eyes that you've grown to love.

"Carlos?" You say his name, almost like a question, making sure it's him.

His strong arms enveloped you, providing a protective hold that made you feel as if nothing else mattered right now.

You slightly wince as you hug him back, your wound causing you more pain. Carlos notices and pulls away.

You look closely at his face and notice his eyes, which glistened with unshed tears, reflecting the light like dewdrops.

"I- I'm so glad you're okay. I thought I lost you, Y/N... Please, promise me that you won't pull another stunt like that ever again." His voice practically begged.

He was worried and scared, he didn't want to lose you. He couldn't.

"I promise, Carlos. I'm sorry."

His lips curled into a gentle, small smile and he mumbled something. You could just about make it out.

"I love you."

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #re3 #re3r #re3 remake #resident evil 3 #resident evil 3 remake #re3 carlos #re3r carlos #imagine