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#except the helmet of course
hellenhighwater · 1 year
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What flag?what's happening
I've got enough new people that probably deserve an explanation.
I made that flag. I designed it for my dad, whose projects are endless and always begin with "you know what would be a cool thing to do..." and then end, years later, with fully custom-built modifications that look like they could have been made that way in a factory. The text itself is a modified version of the Programmer's Credo, which in turn is a parody of a presidential speech about the space race.
Back when I first made the flag, I posted a picture here, on the hellsite, with permission to use the phrase in whatever projects people wanted to make. Sometime recently, someone cropped out all the context, so it was just a picture of my flag, and started circulating it on twitter, facebook, instagram, and here on tumblr, without any credit. It'd be something entirely different if someone was posting their own graphic. I don't care what people do with the phrase itself, but that flag is, specifically, my work--I designed that.
It's now been reposted by the Elongated Muskrat himself, with, of course, no credit.
I simply do not have the energy to deal with this. I have therefore quote-tweeted (should I have replied? I don't know how tf the bird site works) with a link to my redbubble and will deal with this later when the muskrat's site seems to be working marginally better.
Anyway. Here's my brother and nephew, with proof in the background.
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captainhysunstuff · 1 year
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11 more images below the cut:
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Light heads to meet L at the pick-up point for their date and is met with a surprise.  Another more frustrating surprise was finding out that Sayu had followed him.  She briefly meets “Hideki Ryuga,” and has her suspicions all but confirmed as far as she knows.  With the delay over, they drive off to officially begin the date.
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redkelpfish · 1 year
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In the same vein as “everyone is Batman”:
Batman but Red Hood is “secretly” like fifty different people. Like, yes, Jason organized and started it all, but the majority of the time it’s actual Gotham citizens who have a chip on their shoulder so big as to not have a spine.
They trade off and/or only have a couple active at the same time. They never let on that there’s more than one Red Hood. Very few people have caught on.
Bruce is losing his mind
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the-punforgiven · 1 year
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Yknow I never got why so many articles I see on like, eccentric or insanely weird, outlandish, impractical, and/or ornate armour always gotta compare it to Dark Souls
Like yeah, Dark Souls has like, the Catarina Armor and Havel's set, I guess the Armor of Thorns though it's wackiness it toned down somewhat, but I dunno, tbh I always found Dark Souls's Armor designs seemed like, remarkably sensible compared to most other fantasy media I've consumed
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freshmangojuice · 11 months
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Favourite Cat Outfits 3/10
Imitation of a Regency period British light infantry officer's uniform. It is a red coat with a stiff yellow collar and cuffs, white trim, a gold and red tasseled sash around the waist, gold epaulettes, and cream trousers. A tan cape with a fur collar hangs off his right shoulder and he wears black and brown knee-length cuffed boots. He carries a black helmet with him, embellished with a braided gold band, pale horse hair, and a metallic head badge. His hair is done in an early-Georgian style updo that towers above his head with a small ponytail at the back tied with ribbon. Designer unknown (rented costume) Costuming credit: Howard Burden & Gill Shaw
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falsestalwart · 2 months
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he’s glaring at all of you .
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ohdeerfully · 3 months
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Can I please request Alastor and reader having a sleepover because of flooding in the hotel which made most rooms in the hotel out of service including Alastor's and Alastor chooses to stay at reader room because ✨romance✨ Oh and can I be ☀️ anon ( I'm the person who made first request.)
I love your writing so much!!!
hii again!!! thank you so much for the request ☀️! i love when anons give themselves names its actually so fun (,:
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A Dry Bed
Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
It’s nothing new when a violent demon shows up at the doorsteps to the Hazbin Hotel–Charlie’s idea wasn’t a popular one, except to a very niche market of demons. Many came just to cause havoc and make life harder for the already strained employees of the hotel.
This was new, though, you mused to yourself briefly as a fish-headed demon ripped open the door, the hinges squealing in protest. Bubbles of water floated around his body, strings of a magic aura keeping them attached to his form; there was a large one encasing his head like a helmet, making his already fish-eyed features more… well… fish-eyed and distorted.
Most demons weren’t manifested in hell bearing any sort of noticeable power other than sometimes having a decent “full” demon form. So, seeing this fish rearing a set of magical balls of water for attack, for no real reason in particular and with a glint of mania in his eyes, quickly put everybody to their feet and in action. 
Alastor was out doing god-knows-what, otherwise this would’ve been over in an instant. The other demons in the hotel were incredibly strong in their own right, but it was undeniable that the power imbalance was… huge. And the immediate chaos that ensued likely would’ve been prevented.
The fish barely hesitated after nearly breaking the front doors, immediately detaching his balls of water and hurling them in every direction. Bottles of booze were shattering, hanging pictures were tumbling, and wooden legs of furniture snapped. 
Of course, it was over nearly as soon as it started. With a movement so fast you could hardly watch, Vaggie had the fish pinned down, her foot pressed against his neck and spear pointed at one of his bulging eyes. Her eyes were narrowed so hard, her lips so twisted in a scowl, you could practically see the fire of her anger.
“Vaggie, hey, hey, hey,” Charlie quickly rattled out, pressing her hands against her girlfriend’s arm and gently ushering away the spear. Vaggie refused to release the demon, who was gurgling some nonsense in his bubble of a helmet. Charlie nudged at her leg that was pinning the demon down. “C’mon. No killing. You know the rules.”
“Charlie, this guy literally came in with intent to kill! Stop treating him like he wants to be in the hotel.” “I know! But… just…” Charlie thought for a moment.
The fish headed demon started thrashing around, but Vaggie’s strong leg kept him down. He was growing desperate, you could tell, and a magic aura seemed to flicker around him as he fought for his freedom.
Charlie opened her mouth again, likely to coerce Vaggie to let the guy go, but was interrupted by a loud, squealing groan from every direction. You frowned and leaned your ear against the wall, where it seemed the loudest. The sound of screaming pipes and popping bolts made you clench your jaw and whip your arms over your head, right in time for the walls to start bursting with dangerously high pressure water.
Vaggie turned a glare to Charlie and spread her arms in a “you see?” motion. She briefly raised her leg, only to slam it back down on the fish’s head. His protective bubble popped, and he was knocked out cold. 
Easily enough, the pressure immediately began to release after the culprit had been knocked out, but the pipes wouldn’t magically fix themselves. Charlie was running back and forth, trying desperately to survey the damage to her hotel. Footsteps came thudding down the stairs and a spindly pink demon came flying down.
“Hey, what the fuck is- fuck!” Angel Dust’s curse-filled rant was interrupted as he tripped head first into the steadily increasing pool of water, not expecting his foot to get dragged behind him by said water. With a moment of confused thrashing he stood back up and shook water from his now drenched hair.
“Guys, a little help?” Charlie snapped, unintentionally raising her voice at the three of you. “I don’t know what to do, but just-! Something!”
Niffty was quick to arrive after Angel, announcing herself with a shrill cry at the state of things. She immediately went to work, practically flying this way and that with a little hammer and nails. You wondered if she could just materialize that at will.
After finally ebbing the flow at the lobby, you looked at the stairs to the next floor. A steady stream of water made a shock of cold run down your neck.
“Guys…” You pointed at the base of the stairs and drew a line with your finger, following the trail of water.
Charlie choked out a short cry, and Niffty didn’t hesitate before barreling between your legs and up the steps.
“Oh! My,” A shocked voice called from the entrance. A prickling of static covered your skin, and tension immediately left your shoulders. With him here, this would go a lot faster. You turned your head to look at the Radio Demon, who was now delicately stepping through the layer of water that was now creeping out the open lobby doors.
“This seems like a dream of a little orphan from the Dirty Thirties, I do think,” Alastor joked, mouth ajar and eyes shut in a sinister laugh at his humor. His staticy ambience changed to a personal laugh track following his statement. His cane was held up carefully on his elbow as he surveyed the scene.
“No, this won’t do! Not at all, what a dreadful sight for new patrons,” As his hand rose and a crackling of loud static filled the room, you heard the noise of metal bending and snapping as he magically forced them back into place. Even with all the pipes fixed, the water remained. You guessed it was up to the rest of you to deal with that part.
“Thank you soooo much, Al,” Charlie had her hands clasped and shaking in front of her as she continued to spew thanks at him for the help. She stopped and looked around. There was still a huge mess. And there was still a lot of water.
The lot of you had spent the next few hours desperately trying to scoop, dump, scoop again, dump again, all the water out, but it seemed neverending. Husk had showed up at some point, went on a furious rant about his collection of now-smashed bottles, and had been cradling the remaining one ever since.
Charlie had given everybody a verbal pat on the back, and called it a night. “We can get back to it in the morning.” She said this, but you had a feeling she would remain up trying her best to fix the mess. Alastor had excused himself some time ago, saying something about his broadcasts and his papers. Since then, your thoughts have been filled with aggravation from his lack of aid. Yes, he had fixed the pipes, but the water. 
You gave a light smile to Charlie, half in thanks and half in apology, before heading up to your room. Your jaw was clenched with anticipation for what your room might look like. You could already visualize the damp curtains, the dripping bed, the mildewy air… And your clothes were surely ruined. You’d have to buy something to wear while you washed everything you owned. You sighed at the thought.
You took a breath before pushing the door open. And, when you looked inside, it was… completely dry.
“What the hell.” You deadpanned, eyes scanning the entire room. Surely there was at least a puddle of water somewhere. The water had affected every level, and although you did live on one of the higher floors you still couldn’t understand how your room managed to escape the flood.
You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, making quick work of your drenched clothes and changing into something dry. You fell face first into your pillows. Your eyes were so, so heavy.
A few seconds passed before a knock interrupted the sleep that had been creeping over your body. You heard the faint warbling of radio frequency, and felt both nervousness and anger at the thought of seeing Alastor.
You rolled off the bed and stomped your way over to the floor, flinging it open and glaring up at him. He simply smiled back down at you, his head tilted questioningly as if he had no clue why you were in such a mood.
His eyes broke from yours and he peered into your room. With a pleased glint in his eye, he brushed past you. You wanted to say something about his intrusion, but you knew it would be useless. So you just followed him in.
“Lucky you!” He said. “I took it upon myself to look into all the rooms, and yours is the only one that is still in such a shape.” You watched as he examined the contents of your room, grabbing up a decoration here and there to look it over before setting it back down.
He sighed, eyes closing as his wide smile closed into a meager grin. “Unsurprisingly that little bayou of mine flooded much worse than everywhere else. As much as it reminds me of home, even I’m not one to sleep in the marsh.” He laughed a little.
Does this guy even sleep, you wondered. You had seen his room once before, and envisioned that marsh in the corner of his room completely overrunning the rest. 
“Uh,” You toed the carpet and pursed your lips. You were still a little upset with him, but the idea of him going through the painstaking process of looking through every room in the hotel made it more reasonable for him to disappear earlier. “I mean, you could… stay with me. Tonight. Just tonight. Everything should be fine tomorrow, but I don’t want you without a bed. You know.” You rambled.
You and Alastor had gotten close over the past year, a little closer than he was with anybody else, but you avoided thinking too hard about your relationship. You worried that overthinking would cause you to accidentally overstep a boundary and you would lose the progress you’ve built getting to know him. You were worried about doing just that even as the offer tumbled from your mouth.
You watched as his teeth began to peek through his lips as his smile widened. There was something in his expression that you couldn’t quite place. Pride, maybe? Accomplishment? You weren’t sure. You didn’t have much time to consider it before his smile composed and he remained unreadable.
“How bold of you,” His voice cooed, the static that surrounded him buzzing louder as his face got closer to you. You swallowed back a lump that had formed at the proximity. “Inviting a man into your room. It’s rather unbecoming of a lady like yourself.”
“I-” Your face grew hot.
“I’m joking!” He interrupted you, leaning himself away and back in a laugh. He waved his hand at you while you frowned. You hated the way he lived off of teasing and embarrassing.
“Okay, nevermind then!” You folded your arms and stuck your nose to the side and in the air. His laughter paused and he looked back down at you. Heat still burned on your cheeks and ears.
He examined you for an uncomfortably long period of time. You had your eyes squeezed shut and you upheld your attitude in the silence for as long as you could before the prickling of radio static on your skin became too uncomfortable. You peeked open one eye to look, and immediately got nervous.
He was just standing there. Just staring with his sinister red eyes. It didn’t help that he was quite taller than you. Looming and staring. Probably the worst combination, especially with that buzzing of his.
You felt like an open book, way too vulnerable under his gaze. You lowered your head to look at nothing in particular by your feet.
“So… yes or no…” You said, taking back your earlier statement. “You can have the bed, of course. I’ll just… find a blanket for the floor or something.” If there’s anything dry, you added to yourself.
His expression broke from concentration, lifting immediately into a gleeful, toothy grin. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and guided you to the bed.
“Won’t be necessary!” He cheered. He pulled at the covers and pushed you down gently. Or, well, gently by Alastor’s standards. You still bounced upon impact. You sat there, a bit dazed with confusion as you watched him cross to the other side of the room and tuck himself under the same sheets. 
“Alastor- Hey, really, I don’t mind-” He put a finger up to your lips, dramatically shutting you up. You decided to listen.
“What’s a sleepover between two close friends!” He said gleefully. You couldn’t help but let the term ‘friends’ echo in your mind as you fiddled with your thumbs.
Silence filled the room again, but after a while it became more comfortable than awkward. The sound of radio frequencies had died down a little. You refused to look at him. The clock ticked faintly in the corner.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt clawed fingers grab into your shoulder and pull you closer to the Radio Demon. You aided the movement by using your hands to scoot towards him.
Again, you had become close with him over the year, but you never took too long to consider just what you were. You always waited for him to make any move, because otherwise he might completely reject you. So, when he made the decision to bring you closer, you happily obliged, albeit a little anxiously.
You gingerly put your head against his chest, listening to the thrum of his heart. Or what might be a heart. Who knows. You held in a laugh when you realized that even that had some sort of radio-like sound to it. Nonetheless, it did help lull you out of any nerves you had being so close and intimate to Alastor.
You lifted yourself off of him with an elbow and looked at him. He was already looking at you, unsurprisingly, so your eyes met his. They were glowing a little, you noticed.
His face still had a grin, but it was light. And comfortable. His eyebrows were relaxed as he just watched you. 
Your heart was beating uncomfortably fast, and you were embarrassed to think that he might be able to feel it with how close your chest was to his.
If he did, he made no indication of it. He just kept looking at you with the strangest expression you’ve ever seen on him. It was gentle. His words from earlier played in your mind again; when he called you and him ‘friends.’
Did ‘friends’ look at each other like this?
Did ‘friends’ inch closer to each other as they stared into the others’ eyes, bodies flush against one another and legs beginning to tangle?
Your jaw clenched and unclenched as you neared him, and you frantically examined him for even the smallest hint of wanting you to stop. You swore he was leaning in too, though.
You felt his breath brush against your nose. Your heart was practically clawing itself out of your ribs and the elbow you had propped yourself up on grew wobbly with nerves. When Alastor’s eyes began to shut, ever so slowly, you followed suit.
And, for an incredibly brief moment, your lips touched his. One, two, maybe three seconds passed before he pulled away from you. You opened your eyes to watch his expression grow a bit puzzled. His smile was tight, and his brows furrowed slightly as he watched you. He seemed deep in thought, with what exactly you couldn’t guess, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable.
At some point his hand had come and was gingerly settled on your hip, which he used to pull you back down. Your elbow practically gave out and you fell a little rough back down on his chest. You couldn’t help but stare widely at the wall for a moment, just listening to his heartbeat again. Was it beating faster than before?
You smiled lightly. You had no idea if this was a step forward in your relationship with the Radio Demon, or if it would be back to ‘friends’ tomorrow, but you decided to just cross your fingers. You reached your arms up to wrap under his neck, and you slowly made yourself comfortable. He had lightly settled his own arms on your back.
You couldn’t help but send silent thanks to that aggressive fish demon from earlier, and a thanks to god himself, as strained as your opinions towards that guy was, for keeping your bed dry.
When Alastor began drawing shapes in your back, gently dragging his sharp nail across your clothed skin, you cast away all worries about the next day out of your head. It all seemed so far away now as you took in the smell of the demon laying underneath you.
You just hoped this would become a regular thing, because man, was this comfortable.
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fangirl-dot-com · 13 days
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🐾 Il Pawdestinato
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader (fc. Alexandra) Genre: Comfort/Fluff Summary: A disappointing fourth place as Suzuka has your boyfriend feeling down. Maybe all he needs is a teeny-tiny surprise.
So this is that imagine that I've been talking about making. Sorry, it's taken so long. I hope you all enjoy and I promise I am working on the next chapter of Reputations. I just think that since it's a smaller fic, I could do an imagine and a chapter for the week. Let me know what y'all want me to do!
You internally sighed as you watched the red car with the number 16 cross the line in fourth place. Anger started to bubble below the surface and you had to turn around for a moment, hoping that the cameras in the garage wouldn’t catch the sneer on your face. 
How hard was it to get Charles on the podium that his heart needed? 
The tenth anniversary and it seemed to not matter to anyone except your family and Charles’s. But of course, it’s Ferrari. Can’t give their driver a decent car or a decent strategy. When Charles is ahead it’s race on if you’re faster. But if Charles is faster but behind it’s stay in position. 
When were Ferrari finally going to actually put actions into their words? Or give their chosen driver the better strategies? 
Your blood had almost boiled over at the very distasteful words of Damon Hill when he called Charles depressed and emotion during the weekend. Sorry, it’s not like his godfather or your brother had a fatal crash ten years ago. Totally not that. 
Charles had to hold you back from seeking out the former champion when you watched the interview. 
But now, you just had to be there for Charles. 
Your hands held the helmet that the Monegasque would have brought to the podium with him if he had been up there. The helmet that should have been brought to the podium years ago if everything had been according to plan. 
But ten years ago, fate had a different story: one that didn’t include your brother in the narrative. 
Your high-heeled feet quickly took you to Parc Ferme to meet him there. You didn’t want to be too late. Multiple people in red parted for you as you made your way to the cars. The shiny helmet seemed to blind anyone who looked at it. 
Charles took his time getting out of the car in the P4 placement. His heart was heavy as his head turned to look at the wrong Ferrari parked a few meters away. God how he wanted that to have been him. His eyes watered as he started to take his gloves off. He could see the tilt of Carlos’s lip as he gave his post-race interview. He despised the driver for it. 
However, as he turned, a glint of silver caught his eyes. The Monegasque almost choked on his spit when he saw that you were holding it up. He all but ran over, trying to get there quickly before Max was called up.  
Charles held out his hands when he got close, however he froze when you placed Jules’s helmet in his hands. His own helmet was still on, probably him trying to hide his own tears. Except, you had let yours run free. 
You gave him a little nudge. 
“Go,” was all you told him. 
The Ferrari driver, now with helmet in hand, jogged over to the cool down room. The security around didn’t bother him, almost knowing what he was trying to do. He poked his head around the corner and caught a bit of the conversation. 
“And you were struggling with tyres,” he heard Max say as he watched the Dutchman almost give Carlos a cold shoulder. Max’s eyes widened when he caught a familiar red helmet peeking around the corner. He cocked an eyebrow but walked over when beckoned. 
“Charlie?” he questioned when he saw the Monegasque crying in his helmet. Max wanted to question him further, but something was thrust in his hands. He looked down in shock. 
Charles shuffled on his feet a bit. 
“Can-can,” he stuttered under the Dutchman’s gaze. He inhaled deeply. “Can you take this with you? On the podium?” 
He shut his eyes tight, not even wanting to see if Max rejected his plea. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he opened his eyes just a bit. He was confused when he saw that Max was close to tears as well. 
Max gulped the big lump in his throat, taken back by what Charles was asking. If Max could, he’d switch with Charles in heartbeat. 
He tried to give the brunet a smile, but it came out kind of crooked. Max clutched the helmet close to his stomach, careful not to accidentally drop it. He looked down at the silver detailing. The only thing lacking on it was the Ferrari emblem. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that this wasn’t just an extra helmet from Charles. 
“I-I’m sorry I c-can’t bring it up myself,” Charles tried to justify, but he couldn’t get the words out. 
In the back of the cooldown room, Checo’s eyes were trained on the pair. His eyes slid to the side only to find Carlos not even looking. The Mexican wished he could hear when they were saying, but the familiar helmet told him everything he needed to know. He watched Charles back away and disappear around the corner. Once the red-clad driver was gone, Checo saw Max stiffen as though he realized what this actually meant. 
The second Red Bull driver got off the seat and walked over toward the Dutchman. He peered down at the silver helmet. He could almost hear Max thinking in the silence. Now he was the one to place a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, as the Dutchman had done for Charles. 
“He trusts you Max.” 
Max only breathed in and nodded. They were quickly called to line up go to the podium. When the blond got to the top step, he made sure to hold the helmet where everyone could see. It was kind of like a testament to truly show that he was the wrong driver to be holding it on the top step. 
His blue eyes tried to find green in the crowd below, but he failed. Max even failed trying to find you. He deflated a bit but still held his head up high. Max’s lips quirked when he heard P screaming from below in the arms of Kelly. 
While Max held the helmet, really all he could think of is if he would have friends who’d hold his helmet in reverence if he were to tragically die. He’d like to think that Charles would race with a dedication helmet all race year long. He wouldn’t want it on Carlos’s helmet or Checo’s (but he knew that the two would do it anyway). 
Even though he was missing green, his eyes did catch a wide smile. He was glad that Danny was there, knowing the Australian had been close to Jules during his time in F1. 
Max had been so caught up in the anthems that he didn’t even realize that they had ended. Not wanting the helmet to get ruined with champagne, he quickly ran around to hide it behind the wall. He made sure it was stable before running back out to join in the celebrations. He knew that he’d have to give it back after, but for now, he could only receive sprays of bubbly. 
Charles’s head had been buried in the crook of your next since he got back to his drivers room. You could only rub small circles on his back, trying the comfort the sad man. 
“Why am I just never good enough?” Charles whispered into the silence. Your breath hitched when you heard the utter despair in his voice. “Can’t even get a podium for Julio.” 
“Charles, it’s not you. Please, never think it’s you.” 
The Monegasque only sighed and turned more into you. Your hands blindly reached for your phone. Once your fingers hit the cool case, you immediately grabbed it and started to plan something. You knew that the two of you were headed to Milan this week for sim testing and for the grand opening of LEC. But, you knew that you could make it even more special. 
You grinned as you made the plans and sent over a hefty amount of money, but it’d be worth it.
Hopefully.
A knock on the door had Charles sitting up straight. He quickly rubbed his eyes before heading over to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with a soaked Max, who had slightly sad eyes. In his hands was the helmet. 
Max’s gray eyes swept over Charles before looking around the room. He gave you a smile when your eyes met. A quick nod of you head told Max everything he had to know. He turned his eyes back to Charles and handed the headpiece over. 
There was some awkward silence before Max coughed. 
“I’m guessing you’re headed back to Maranello?” 
When Charles shook his head no, the Dutchman was a little confused.
“We’re headed to Milan first,” was all Charles offered. 
You snorted at the short words from your boyfriend. Charles grew red but then offered a little more intel. “I have that ice cream thing.” 
Max’s eyes widened when he realized that it wasn’t just a rumor or a joke. Charles made a face. 
“I’m very serious about my ice cream Max.” 
Oh, Max guesses he said that out loud.  
The Red Bull driver snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt that Charles. Everything you do, you do it best.” 
Now, Charles grew red (but not of embarrassment). 
“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing the helmet a bit tighter. You were still scrolling through your phone as they talked a bit more. You were just making sure that the place you were staying at had the correct accommodations for your surprise. 
It was only when Charles got back into his spot on your chest did you realize that Max was gone. You turned your phone off and put your hands into his hair and started to scratch lightly. A content sigh escaped Charles as he finally melted into you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead. 
“We have to get going or the flight is going to leave without us,” you murmured into his hairline. You had talked to Fred (more like demanded) about letting Charles skip debrief for the time being. The money in your bank account could pay for whatever expenses the Monegasque would be fined if he skipped everything. 
In the plane, Charles had curled up to you once again. When you made sure that he was sound asleep, you got your computer back out. You finished typing out your email to Doni, making sure that everything was in order for when the plane would land. You just hoped that you could keep the surprise a secret for a little longer. 
Knowing that Charles would be dead tired when you got to the place where you’d be staying for almost two weeks, you put him straight to bed when you arrived. He went down with little to no arguments and was sound asleep as you unpacked everything. 
Pulling back the covers, you were able to slip in next to him. As you were about to fall asleep, Charles wrapped his arm around your middle and brought you closer. His lips met the crest of your shoulder before tucking his head back into your neck. You put your hand over his arm and held it tightly. 
In the morning, you were woken up by the sound of a blender from the kitchen. You sleepily put your feet on the cool tile and made your way to the open room. 
Charles had his bare back to you as he was slaving over frozen fruit and oat milk. He startled a bit as your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. Your lips pressed against your favorite freckle that stood out amongst the rest of the galaxy on his back. 
“Good morning amore.” 
You always loved his terms of endearment in the morning when his voice was still deep with sleep. 
“Morning Cha.” 
Charles smiled as he heard sleep still evident in your own voice. While he pressed the automatic blend button, he turned around to face you. Your eyes were still closed as you looked at him with a dopey smile. Charles couldn’t help but mirror it, even if you couldn’t see it.
 He leaned down and placed feather-light kissed on your eyelids before moving down to your nose. The Monegasque always loved doing that as your nose would immediately scrunch after. 
A whine left your lips, signally to him that he hadn’t kissed you where you wanted it yet. He rolled his eyes and stooped a bit lower, his lips finally finding solace in yours. 
After three years, you still couldn’t get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands slip up his arms until they locked behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. His own hands found themselves planted against the span of your hips. 
It was just the two of you in your own little world for a bit, leaving you breathless when you finally parted, smoothie long forgotten. 
Charles rested his forehead against yours. 
You hummed, getting his attention. 
“I have a surprise for you later today,” you told him. Feeling him tense against your chest, you knew he was immediately interested. 
“Like, later today or in a few hours.” 
“More like in a few hours. We have to get ready and then get going.” 
You and Charles quickly drank your smoothies before you headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Teasingly, you swung the keys around his face as you walked out to the car, claiming that you had to drive because he didn’t even know where you were going. 
“You get to be passenger princess now my love,” you called as you climbed into the driver’s seat. Charles could only roll his eyes. 
He would never admit it, but he secretly liked being the passenger every once in a while. It gave him the freedom to choose the music and not worry about getting one place to another. 
Once the car got closer to the location, Charles had a sense of what was going on. He turned his head toward you once you pulled into the house. His eyes were sparkling (but you knew they’d get brighter once he understood why exactly the two of you were here). 
Charles unbuckled with you following suit. 
“Are we here to see Mimi?” he questioned as he held your hand, swinging it as you walked. 
You were digging through your purse with your other. “Something like that.” 
The doorbell was rang and Charles smiled at the sight of his friend. 
“Hi mate,” he greeted, pulling Doni into a hug. You gave the man a greeting when you had the chance. 
“Follow me,” Doni said, pulling you and Charles into the house. You could tell that the Monegasque was excited as he squeezed passed Doni and immediately went to pick Mimi up. You giggled, seeing your boyfriend turn into a literally baby for the small dog. 
Seeing that he was preoccupied, you leaned over to Doni. 
“Is he here?” 
Doni smiled down at you. “We can go get him.” 
You turned to Charles. “Love, Doni is going to show me a new painting that he’s been working on. I’ll be right back.” 
The only response you got was Charles kissing Mimi on the head and waving you off. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad because moments later, your hands were full of puppy. You clutched the blond dachshund into your chest. 
“He’s perfect,” you whispered, kissing the puppy’s head lightly, earning a little yap in return. You and Doni returned to the bigger room, still finding Charles enamored with Mimi. You snorted at the sight. 
“Charlie,” you said, gaining the Monegasque’s attention for a moment. The minutes Charles’s eyes were on you, he froze at the sight of the itty-bitty puppy in your arms. He set Mimi down immediately, but the bigger dachshund wasn’t offended. 
Charles gingerly stepped over and his hands hovered over the little puppy in your arms. His eyes met yours, silently asking to hold the tiny thing. You rolled your eyes and you gently set the unnamed puppy in his hands. 
The baby dachshund looked tiny in your arms, but now looked even tinier in Charles’s bigger hands. The Ferrari driver held the puppy up to his face and was met with a wet tongue against his nose. The giggles that resounded out of the grown man made you melt inside. 
After the right amount of attention was given to the pup, Charles looked at Doni. 
“What’s his name?” he asked his friend. 
Doni smirked down at you. 
“That’s for you to decide love.” 
It was comical with how big Charles’s eyes got when he finally realized that the puppy in his hands was his (well, you two would share him). Tears even welled up in his green eyes, making them look incredibly glassy. 
You cooed at the two while stepping closer to put your hand back on the puppy. The little thing yawned and snuggled deeper into Charles’s hand. His head whipped up so he could look at you. 
“I’m never putting him down you know that right? I’ll make him a little pocket in my race suit and he’s going to go everywhere with me.” 
You snorted. “I don’t think puppies are built to withstand the G’s baby, but I’ll keep him company in the garage. He’ll have Roscoe to play with next year too.” 
Charles stopped listening after you had said “baby,” his brain melting. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about a future with you and an actual baby. That made blood go to different places and he needed to stop thinking about that. 
Doni had walked away for a moment and came back with a piece of paper. 
“You think of a name superstar?” the man asked, pen poised to write. 
Charles held the British-crème dog up to his face and looked into the boba-like brown eyes. He hummed as he put him back down at stomach level, still not wanting to put him down. 
“Leo.” 
Now that you snorted. “You’re going to name our son after your rival?” 
Charles paled once he realized and stuttered as he tried to make up an excuse. “Non, it’s like the LEC logo. The ‘C’ looks like an ‘O’ if you squint.” 
You laughed but nodded at the excuse. “Sure amore, sure. But I think Leo Leclerc suits him. Little baby.” 
Doni also laughed as he wrote down Leo’s name. “More like Leo LeHandbag because I don’t think superstar is going to put him down anytime soon.” 
You turned back to Charles, but the man was already crouched down next to Mimi, showing off Leo to the older dog. You facepalmed. 
“I am dating a literally child. First an ice cream line and now this.” 
Doni smiled. “He looks happy.” 
You sighed in content. That’s all you had wanted to do since Suzuka: make Charles happy. You couldn’t bring back your brother, but you could offer small hopes to the man you loved so dearly. Your eyes widened when you looked at your watch. 
“Love, we have to go. Your launch is in an hour and a half.” 
Charles pouted. “We’re bringing him right?” 
You smiled softly. “Yes, let’s bring our son.” 
The two of you said your goodbyes to Doni before heading out. Charles still wanted to be the passenger so that he could hold onto Leo for longer, knowing that he’d have to give him back to you once the launch started. 
“I still can’t believe you named him Leo after Max.” 
“He is not named after Max.” 
“Sure babe. It’s definitely not like Roscoe being named after Nico Rosberg.” 
“Wait. Lewis names Roscoe after Rosberg?” 
“Yes Charlie. But it’s ok. I can be second best to your work-wife.” 
“Max is not my work-wife.” 
“Whatever you say. Il Predestinato now has Il Pawdestinato.” 
“HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA!” 
“I swear Charles, I will take him back.” 
“LEO LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 DOGGIE GRAND PRIX!” 
“I’m dating a child.” 
y/n_bianchi has posted
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y/n_bianchi little Leo Leclerc ☀️
liked by charles_leclerc, lestappenlove, y/nxcharlie, and 4,204,096 others
leclerc_fam oh my gosh he's so cutieeeeeee
i_want_y/n do y'all need another one? cause I can bark 🗣
charliesangels STOP DID Y/N GET HIM A PUPPY AFTER SUZUKA????
lestappenlove not them naming Leo after a certain lion rival
brocedes2.0 reminds me of lewis naming Roscoe after Nico Rosberg
lecluv ice cream, a puppy, and a gorgeous girlfriend - Charles is living the life 😭
roscoelovescoco yous is goings to haves to brings him to the paddocks so I's cans meets new friend! ♥️
y/n_bianchi of course roscoe! I can babysit so the dads can do their thing 🏎💨
lewishamilton can't wait to meet the son!
charles_leclerc he'll be at Shanghai ☺️
roscoe&leo they're going to be the IT dogs of the paddock
leolovescharlie imagine having formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc and Ceo of a multimillion dollar company Y/n Bianchi as your parents
maxverstappen1 I like the name! 🦁
y/n_bianchi i told him that you'd say something
charles_leclerc HE IS NOT NAMED AFTER YOU
y/nxcharlie it's cat dad Max Verstappen vs dog dad Charles Leclerc
iamred_iamyellow choose your fighter
y/n_leclerc I'm just waiting for when y/n is going to show up with a ring
ferrari_fan when I saw I got that dawg in me, best know I'm talking about Leo
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TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
Text
— SHARING IS CARING
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pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader, luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter!reader
summary: the whole camp believes you to be sunshine personified, everyones bestfriend. and being absolutely stunning as well as off limits unless they want your girlfriend breaking every bone in their body. but it seems a certain friend of yours can’t help his feelings for you, and your girlfriend?
warnings: i’ve gone mental, fluff, threatening, violence, protective clarisse, kinda naive reader ngl, luke is lovesick and is confused about his feelings, not proof read
a/n: basically the two of them agreeing to be with you and now you have attack dogs <3
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if there was one thing everybody at camp half-blood could agree on, it was that they all loved you. even if they acted differently, the idea of hating you was practically foreign.
for as long as you could remember, even if it’d only been two years, you’d been there, it’d been your home. and for as long as you could remember, you’d been best friends with luke castellan. he was unbelievably helpful when you first arrived, shy and sweet but overtime you opened up to him.
of course you were nice to everybody, but to your friends you were on a whole other level. almost motherly in a sense, always concerned for their well-being, their health and them over all. luke was no exception, if anything, you cared for him the most. but that was before clarisse came along.
even if luke wouldn’t admit it, he liked the attention. for once someone was caring for him, going out of their way to help him. you were always right there when he needed you, and he’d gotten used to being by your side. whether at breakfast in the morning, or by the creek at night the two of you went out of your way to be together.
and over your time together he not only began to feel protective over you but also something else. it creeped up on him, yes, but it wasn’t all that surprising with you being the daughter of aphrodite.
he found himself wondering if you felt the same for him, or if you were indifferent. with developing feelings came changes of attitude, he found himself annoyed. not at you of course, never at you, but at himself. he felt as if he had a real friend, someone he trusted truly yet it was as if his own body was sabotaging him with feelings. he didn’t want it to change, your relationship, not wanting to risk what you had.
but then late at night he’d find himself daydreaming.
holding your hand when walking together, cutting up your pancakes for you, securing your armour himself, sitting closer to you by the campfire, your sweet eyes looking up at him everyday, filled with even more love than usual. maybe even staring down other campers, who for some reason, had the silly thought that they could make a pass at you.
he’d overheard one of the new girls talking about her own crush on a girl. luke hadn’t meant to, of course, but he was currently sitting on the shore, cleaning off his muddy helmet. she rambled on about the girl she liked, how she walked and talked, how she smiled, how she daydreamed. he felt his throat tighten at the words, it was as if his own crush was being described.
then, she began to talk about a certain daydream she loved having, the fight scenario. in which her crush was training and perhaps losing, the other person being a bit too harsh to the point where she herself had to step in and save her girl.
the idea of being a saviour.
he thought it was stupid, his head was telling him so. but his heart thought differently and he secretly agreed. the idea of saving you, your hands clinging onto his arms for safety, teary eyes and rows of praise and thanks from you. fucks sake, he wanted it.
he wanted you.
but again, your time together, and his plans to be with you were cut short, a certain ares girl beating him to the punch.
the irony was not lost on luke at all. the first time you’d gotten a sliver of niceness from clarisse was when the two of you were walking together from the strawberry fields, having picked a fresh bundle on account of mr d randomly asking for them.
“is there such a thing as strawberry alcohol? is he going to try and have someone make it for him?” you joked as the two of you made your trek to the big house. “maybe he’ll eat them and pretend their alcohol-infused grapes.” luke laughed as your eyebrows scrunched together, “you can do that?”
the two of you continued on, sneaking a few strawberries here and there, of which mr d had sworn he’d be able to tell if any were missing. jake lockly, a new boy, was hot on your tail. he was brash and arrogant, handsome yes, but his personality was more than enough to send a girl running. and he had his eyes set on you, the girl everyone seemed to love. he viewed you as nothing more than a challenge, you viewed him as a creep, “hey y/n. you’re looking good today.” jake whistled, a cat call.
now, you were nice, yes, but gods he made it hard. so you figured the best way to react was to not speak at all, a thumbs up was all the acknowledgment you were willing to give and not what he was willing to receive.
“don’t be like that, i know you wanna talk to me.”
his voice was closer this time having picked up his pace. “it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk to you, and it’s pathetic that you keep trying.” luke was so close to dropping the basket, and dropping him. “oh yeah, pretty boy? why don’t you go pick some more strawberries.”
you frowned at the comment, pondering the meaning of it, “i picked strawberries, what’s wrong with that?” jake flashed a toothy grin your way, “nothing princess, keep walking, leave this to the men.” his hand grazed your back.
and jake ended up with his face in the floor, courtesy of clarisse, “touch her again and i’ll break every bone in your body.” jake clutched onto his abdomen as clarisse laughed, and so did luke. “at least you didn’t kill him.” luke chuckled, “is he okay?” your shoulders drooped looking at his crumpled body. “who cares? come on mr d is waiting.” luke grabbed your hand and gently led you along, unaware of clarisse following along.
she nabbed a strawberry from your basket as you gasped, “come on!” she didn’t respond, rather grinning before eating it. “how’s your day been?” you smiled at her niceness, “stuck with luke all day.” his eyebrows furrowed, “it’s never a bad day with me. don’t lie.”
and after that you found yourself running into clarisse more often, training together, even if it was more so her beating the shit out of someone, and you watching. you ended up being around her so often that your body quite literally gravitated to her. whether at breakfast or in lessons, the two of you were always hanging out. so it wasn’t a surprise to you when she asked you out, and you were more than happy to agree.
the only people that found it surprising, was every other person around.
obviously, during the early stages, you’d heard the whispers and seen the stares directed your way, but clarisse had shut them down pretty easily. a kid ended up puking into the same toilet bowl they’d been dunked into, a tamer version being someone’s matress torn apart, and a few not super serious injuries.
not life threatening.
but at the end of the day, all you could care about was her. her smile that was only really directed at you, the jewellery she obtained by suspicious circumstances, the sweet words and kisses were all you could ever ask for.
besides her, you also cared about him.
you’d felt as if the two of you had grown apart in the few months you’d been with clarisse, not necessarily either one of your choices, nor faults, but it was upsetting. even when you tried your hardest to seek him out around camp, it seemed he was always surrounded by people, teaching, leading, or just, not there.
you’d known him long enough to know he was evading.
luke hated it, how he felt. the idea of not being able to control himself, and how he acted was unbelievably annoying to him. not having you by his side, all the time, had him realising how often you were around him, he’d grown to rely on you. your presence, support, your face, friendship, gorgeous smile.
yeah, there were a lot of things he liked about you. he thought he only felt that way for you, but the weirdest combination of people seemed to double them. seeing you and clarisse around was common now, but the longing wasn’t.
you’d talked about your strained relationship over a million times to clarisse, and quite frankly she’d had enough, of course she didn’t mind listening to you talk but it was honestly driving her crazy. which is how she’d ended up with luke, in the middle of the night, sitting across from eachother, talking about you.
“she’s my girlfriend.”
“she was my bestfriend first.”
“so why didn’t you make a move?”
“i didn’t want to mess up our friendship. she… she’s my best friend, i didn’t want to drive her away.” clarisse leaned back on the bench, hands supporting her body, “so what now? you continue ignoring y/n, making her absolutely miserable since her bestfriend won’t even talk to her. or you tell her, and you guys aren’t friends anymore.” luke scoffed, “what makes you think we wouldn’t be friends anymore?” clarisse leaned forwards again, “well she wouldn’t have anything to say back to you, she’s with me.”
“well she would’ve been with me if i’d confessed.”
“but you didn’t, who’s fault is that luke? you were too scared to ask her out, and that’s not on me. talk to her, let her know, and we’ll see what happens.” clarisse rose from the table, but a thought in her head pulled her back. she turned back to see luke sitting at the table, even more gorgeous than usual, annoyingly so, the moonlight was a paid actress.
luke looked up and met clarisse’s eye, “what if.. what happens if she has feelings for both of us, now, at the same time?” she grinned, “you’re not an ugly face luke, i wouldn’t mind.” there were few times luke castellan didn’t know what to say, but he sat staring, feeling warmth arise in his face.
maybe they could come to terms with this, work something out amongst all of you. he swore you liked him back, when you were friends and single, and even now that you weren’t. the longing gazes you sent his way, the shy waves, as if on thin ice, testing the waters. why settle for one gorgeous girl, when you could have two?
after all, sharing is caring.
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katsukikitten · 3 months
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A rambling that adds more detail to this post about hockey players Izuku and Katsuki.
It doesn't help that you're the coach's pretty little daughter of one of the best hockey teams. At every home game and nearly every away game, you're there behind the plexiglass, insisting you buy your own tickets even when your dad can get you in for free. But occasionally you'll take his offer of a free game although it usually comes with the stipulation of being shoved into one of the manager's polo's, given a clipboard, and since this happened to be an away game you'd be forced to sit on the rowdy bus for the three hour drive.
But you really wanted to watch the championship and your paycheck came in too late when the rival match finals were FINALLY announced, it didn't help that the tickets were sold out in seconds!
So you'll stand by Daddy dearest trying to look important just behind the bench inside the cramped box the team will sit in while they wait to come on and off the ice. The team of course had to arrive early and since this was an away game, you had to look every bit the part of staff as everyone else. Which meant you too had to be in the locker room while the men stripped themselves with ease. Snarling and shoving playfully in the pre game excitement, arguing over who moved who's helmet and “where the fuck are we gonna eat after we win tonight?!”
Some of them speaking lewdly off their latest piece of ass and how Bakugou “had her barkin like a bitch in heat.” Before a chorus of laughs is shared sided from a hissed “Kacchan!” followed by a rough shove into metal lockers.
It isn't until they're all pulling on their jerseys on does your dad clear his throat. Giving the speech of the century but it half falls on deaf ears. Your cheeks burn as you feel every eye on you as if they only just now realized you'd been there the whole time but two men in partial catch your eye.
Izuku, beat red under his freckles, brows furrowed as if he's embarrassed he had such a dirty mouth in front of a lady. Embarrassed of the ‘locker room talk’ and how your tight pair of jeans has his cock twitching at the thought of you barking like a bitch in heat. His gloved hand comes to grip at the nape of his neck but it does little to quell the drunken gaze he gives you, his heated cheeks morphing into pure lust. Emerald eyes slipping around the room and when he sees Todoroki staring too intently at you his glare becomes deadly. Shouto looks away and then Izuku finds another poor soul to glare at, already possessive over something that wasn't even his.
The other being a toxic bromine, smiling wolfishly palming himself roughly as he keeps eye contact with you. Strong grip with his other hand on his hockey stick as he daydreams about you. He wants you in doggy first then missionary because you're so fuckin pretty and he's dying to know what you look like when you cum. Especially when you're creaming on his cock. He's dreamt about you before, he's fucked his fist to you before and he sure as hell has knocked some asshole’s teeth out over you before. It didn't matter if it was his own teammates or the opposing team with the exception that Izuku was allowed to make an occasional comment but no more than three before the childhood rivals would be at each other's throats.
Their gaze are always a little unnerving with their intensity, almost predatory and yet it never makes you feel uncomfortable. They'd proven before that they'd protect you when push came to shove, they did four seasons ago when you first moved to the city and before anyone on the team even knew the coach had kids, let alone a daughter. The bar was crowded, it was a rival team against some other team the city happened to give less of a shit about. The players were on an off day enjoying their few hours off the ice and of course the rough men chose a bar where they could watch a fucking hockey game and shoot shit.
You'd finally found a table with a decent view of one of the many TVs and the bar so you could easily get up and get yourself a drink. But your new male coworker offered to bully his way through the players for you, ending up at the end of the bar by a bulky curly haired man and loud ass ash blonde. Getting caught up in the game and taking your eyes off your coworker but only for a moment.
“Are you trying to spike her drink?” A thick scarred hand is over one of the glasses on the bar top, your coworker flushed red.
“Huh?”
“Ya fuckin dumb?” The ash blonde reaches over the curly haired man, yanking your coworker’s tie harshly, effectively smashing the man's face into the polished wood.
“He said were ya tryin to date rape that pretty woman over there?” The blonde cocks his head in your direction, a group of eight eyes turn to look over their shoulder and then back at your shitty coworker. Who stammers, tried to get himself out of the lie before the sweetest, deadliest voice comes from the freckled sunshine boy of the team.
“Smile.” But there's nothing but malice in his eyes as he snaps the photo, immediately texting it to every bar owner he knows. (Half the city!) Your coworker fled and they offered up a seat at the bar for you but you politely declined after that they periodically glanced back to see if you left yet and if you were still okay.
So it wasn't like the only thing they wanted was to get their dick wet right?
Bedsides what probably made you super hot to them was the fact that you were the coach’s daughter, aka off limits.
Sighing as you watch them skate around the rink gracefully despite their size, Izuku and Katsuki passing to one another before taking shots at Kirishima in his full gear as they all warm up. Soon the stadium will be packed with throngs of people pressing into the glass behind you. Most of them rival fans banging on the plexi in hopes to distract or rile up the team, not realizing you'd be distraction enough.
Because all night a pair of emerald and bromine eyes will be glued to you. One giving his killer smile and the other smirking as he delivers a deadly wink.
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nonasuch · 1 year
Text
here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:
so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody. 
and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.
and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!
except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—
except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —
he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —
“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.
Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.
another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.
Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—
the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.
and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.
when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of  “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and  falls silent herself. 
Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.
there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.
Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.
“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.
so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else. 
and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway. 
so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens. 
and a trooper comes in.
and the trooper takes off his helmet.
and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”
(continued here)
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tojisun · 6 months
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biker!simon is slowly rotting my brain and i’m all here for it !! the way you write him makes me want to giggle and kick my feet 😵‍💫🫶🏼
so i just wanted to throw this idea out there…there was a tiktok video i saw (i couldn’t find it 😔) but it’s this couple on a bike and the backpack reaches forward and like…palms the the guy through his jeans and he holds her hand there for a sec and 👀 i just thought that fit for biker!simon
anyways !! love you and your writing
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AHHHHH THATS SO HOT WHAT THE HELLLL??? no yea reader def does that <33 also? luv how u call her backpack!!! its such a cute nickname omgg!!! and thank u so so much my starlight <33 i love you too!
biker!simon mlist // suggestive - minors dni!! hinted exhibitionism bc simon n reader are nastily in luv!
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you are simon’s good girl so, naturally, you usually don’t do this. but in your defence, it is dark outside, the roads empty except for sprinkles of other night riders that you two briefly share the road with.
it’s yet another late drive, you and simon having just left the meet up – easily one of the rowdiest you’ve ever been to. 
when you told simon how heedy you’re feeling from the buzzing energy, he laughed and told you that it’s even more packed this time because of the upcoming rally. you oohed and aahed, and simon fondly rolled his eyes at your obvious cluelessness before steering you past strangers to introduce you to his other friends – alejandro, rudy, and that one big guy who insists on being called konig. 
“nice to meet you katzchen,” he said, taking your arm up to bump it on the mouth of his helmet – something he never took off for the whole day. 
“nice to meet you too! although i didn’t quite catch that- what’s it that you said last?” 
konig’s eyes crinkled, his smile hidden by his helmet, before he let go of your hand and then disappeared into the masses.
what the fuck?
you turned to simon only to see him glaring at where konig used to stand. 
“si?”
“it’s nothin’, sweet girl. wanna come meet up with mactavish?”
simon slows down to a stop in front of a red light, one of his hands leaving his handlebar to reach back to your thigh. it is a routine at this point – simon’s hand caressing your leg, gently massaging, his thumb pressing into tensed muscle, before squeezing once, twice, three times, before pulling away to hold his handlebar again once the light turns green. 
it is a routine, but it still makes your heart jump to your throat, feeling the way his palm leaves burning trails at each glide. your arms tighten around his waist and you are sure that simon felt the way your breath hitched, but he continues on anyway – teasing touches gaining purpose, sliding up-down, before gripping whatever flesh he can. you bump your helmet to his back, a muffled whine sitting in the base of your throat, feeling your lungs wobble at his touch. 
then, he hikes his hand up higher – this is new, something simon has never done before. has never dared to try, especially on the open road.
he tickles his touch up, kneading your muscle until his hand bumps into the swell of your ass. he gives it a squeeze, just a quick pressure, then he rips his hand off now that the light turns green. he revs his bike as a warning – just enough that you tighten your arms around him again – before speeding away, acting like he didn’t just send heat coursing through your veins.
you feel his stomach contract, muscles moving underneath his shirt, and-
oh. 
simon’s laughing.
the haze in you shifts, snapping into something playful. teasing.
you wait until his silent chuckles dissipate, pretending to still be overtaken by his slyness and making him think that you are still unable to move on. well, perhaps there is truth to your lie because yes you are unable to move on, but you hope to hell he wouldn’t be able to as well.
he takes a right turn, his bike dipping close to the asphalt, the sound of his engine purring beautifully, and you think: this is it.
time to reward your big boy.
your touches start off slow. gradual. 
you loosen your arms around his waist, easing your gloved hands off from where they laid tangled together to plant the flat of your palms on simon’s stomach. you feel his abdomen jump, not anticipating the shift in your hold, and you bite on your bottom lip to smother a giggle. 
simon tilts his helmeted head, confused, but you ignore him, busy mapping the hard muscles of his abdomen with kitten-light swipes. one of your hands rises up to caress his chest, swiping a hand between his pecs before falling back to his belly. the other – and this one makes you breathless too – falls to his lap, rubbing at his thigh before swiping it towards his pelvis only to swipe it back out as though you weren’t close to cupping him through his jeans.
your chest vibrates with something guttural and it takes you a heartbeat to realize you were not the one emitting the sound. it was coming from simon, a sound so deep it reverberates between where the two of you are pressed.
the chuckles leave your lips this time around, unable to hold it in anymore. unconsciously, your hand grazes the half-formed tent underneath his jeans, and simon does that rumbling sound again that just heightens your elation.
you are still reeling over your mini revenge that you don’t notice simon taking a new turn, his bike roaring as it speeds through narrow roads and into a dimly-lit and certainly abandoned parking lot.
what-
“si?” you ask, confusion rising when simon turns his engine off before tapping your leg to signal you to get off.
you do, clamouring up, eyes wide as you watch simon follow. he pulls his helmet off and straps it on his bike before twisting his body to face you.
his eyes crinkle, glinting with something dangerous, and you know he’s grinning underneath his balaclava. desire shoots through your spine, realizing where he’s going with this.
simon laughs, seeing the way you straightened up, alert even when something carnal thrums within your veins.  
“that’s right, princess,” he rumbles, his voice thick with want, as he unbuckles his belt. “y’r gonna finish what y’started, aren’t you?”
you nod, already pulling your helmet off your head and wobbling towards him on weak knees. simon takes your helmet from you, his hands brushing against yours, and just before you can kneel down in front of him, simon coos, “knew you are my good girl.”
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igotanidea · 4 months
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Nothing's happening there : Jason Todd x reader
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I feel a little bratty and I blame @lightwing-s and her rebloging this post about Dick's biceps,
But--Imagine teasing your bf!Jay talking how hot Nightwing/Dick is. Like - after patrolling together:
***
"What do you want?"
"a little kiss would be nice." she smiled innocently battting eyelashes.
"He only smirked leaning on the wall, still in his Red Hood gear except for the helmet. He was not going to give into her that easily. He never did. After all, Jason Todd was fully decently functioning adult male, capable of taking hold of his own urges and desires. It was far better to make her plead and beg for him then just let her win straight away. And she definitely didn't have to know that there was already something going on in his pants at the view of her glistening eyes and reddened lips.
But he was going to put her patience to test. Pretty sure she was going to cave in first.
'You're wasting time Hood." she sung leaning forward.
"well you want a kiss from me." he shrugged "I got plenty time."
"Well I can always go to Nightwing."
Oh damn, now that caused a sudden wave of jealousy to wash over him. His fist clenched and he immediately hid them in the pockets to cover for the fact he was starting to lose the war of nerves. Instead he settled on watching her with narrowed eyes.
"You're lying..."
"Try me." she grinned leaning forward "have you seen the guy? That nickname of his couldn’t happen from nothing! He's freaking hot! Those strong arms, that broad chest, those big hands... Mm! Bet he know how to please a girl..."
'Why don't you go and date him then?!" Jason hissed
"I've been waiting for your blessing of course. Now that I have it I can go and --"
She didn't make it to Nightwing.
She didn't make it home.
She barely managed to make it to the nearest dark alley out of everyone's view when Jason gave her his own show of pleasuring a woman.
Using his own strong arms and big hands and that perfectly skilled tongue to hit all the right places.
Savouring that desperate calling that was ringing in his ear when she pulled his hair and scratched his back in ecstasy  - Jason, Jason, Jason!
Making sure the only person on her mind and on her body would always and forever be him.
Wasn't this what you really wanted from beggining?
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
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City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 3
WC: 1861 Masterpost CW: mentions of blood, past experimentation, and torture
Duke tugged the sleeves of the hoodie he had thrown on as he rolled out of bed down over his hands. The Cave was freezing. Usually the temperature was nice. Dressing up in layers of body armor and fighting crime made a person hot and the cool air of the Cave was a relief. When pulled out of bed by an all-hands meeting it was another story and so Duke tucked himself further in the hoodie.
He was pretty sure it wasn’t even his hoodie. This family (and those let into the inner circle) were almost all clothing thieves. Duke had even caught Wally West with his missing Gotham Academy hoodie once. The weird lack of boundaries had taken some getting used to. Seeing various family members naked for decontamination showers or medical procedures helped hurry that along. It was hard to care about who’s hoddie it was was after washing off cuddle pollen together.
The roar of a bike filled the Cave and Duke didn’t even look up. He knew the sound of Red Hood’s bike.
Man, he really had been in this family too long now, he thought and buried his face in his arms. Would they notice if he just went back to sleep?
“Perhaps some tea, Master Duke?”
Guess so.
“Thanks, Alfred,” Duke said and dragged himself properly upright to accept the mug of tea. At least it was warm.
Duke sipped at the tea, his favorite blend of course, as Jason sped into the Cave like the badass bastard he was. He spun his bike to a stop in one of the open spots.
“Hood,” Bruce addressed the other, the Batman™ gravel seeped into his voice even though he was dressed down in sweats, a hoodie Duke was pretty sure was actually Jason’s, and a brace on his wrist.
They all knew what Bruce meant though: report why an all-hands was called, why Tim wasn’t there, did those of them not suited up need to, was anyone they cared about hurt?
“No, old man, you report,” Jason said as he stalked up the steps towards them. “Who the fuck were you fucking fifteen years ago?”
Duke pinched himself to make sure he was actually awake and not still in bed having the most awkward dream. Alright, well, that hurt. So much for being saved from this conversation by the T-rex suddenly coming to life and breathing fire and them having to take it down with squirt guns and pool noodles.
He’d had some weird dreams since coming to live in the manor, alright?
“Um, ask what now, little wing?” Dick asked, looking between Jason and Bruce.
“I asked what I asked,” Jason said. He’d made it to the computer and they all turned obediently to look at the screen. Jason tugged off his helmet and set it down as he leaned against the console. “Who the fuck were you sleeping with at that time, Bruce?”
Bruce stared at Jason for a long moment. “Selina, mostly. Some socialites and such maybe still. What’s going on, Jason?”
“Oracle,” Jason said, not taking his eyes Bruce. “Red should have sent you some media. You’ll get why. Throw something fitting up on the screen.”
Despite what the superhero community and Gotham thought, everyone in the Cave knew that Batman was far from unflappable. They had all pulled one over on him before. But Duke had never seen Bruce looking like that before. As that image went up on the screen, it looked like someone had just shattered his brittle heart into pieces.
Duke couldn’t blame him. The sickly looking guy on the screen made Duke want to go find someone to punch and it wasn’t his face the other was wearing.
“Holy shit,” Steph whispered.
“Father, what is the meaning of this?” Damian ordered.
“Jay?” Dick prompted when Bruce seemed unable to find the words.
Jason scowled down at the ground. “Red and I were on patrol. He noticed… blood.”
Babs brought another image up on the left monitor without prompting. It was a Gotham alley like any other except it was splattered with a green spray.
“That is Lazarus water, that is not blood,” Damian said. His words were as haughty as ever, but there was a wobble under them.
“It’s blood for him,” Jason said. “Trust me. I held the kid as Red stitched him up. Knife wound. It was the only… new wound. Oracle, did Red send you…”
A new image popped up on the left screen and Jason closed his eyes. Duke had to swallow heavily and look away himself. He got now why Jason came in demanding who Bruce had slept with. Bruce’s heart was going to break all over again.
“Who?” Cass signed. Her motion was sharp and aggressive as she pulled her thumb from her chin after the sign.
“We don’t know,” Jason said. “He was jumpy.”
The picture of the horrible injuries was replaced by a video, clearly from Red’s suit. The guy was pressed against the wall, one hand gripped tight over the wet, green stain on his hoodie. He looked dwarfed in it.
“Hey, looks like you could use some help with that wound before you bleed out,” Tim said in the video. Duke could hear how he was keeping his tone carefully light.
“…just who are you supposed to be?” The guy’s voice could barely be heard.
“You must not be from Gotham. I’m Red Robin, one of the heroes here.”
The guy snorted, curling further into himself rather than relaxing at that. “So you’re just going to hand me over to the government then?”
Everyone in the cave stiffened at that, including Jason, which was interesting.
“Why would I do that? I’m a vigilante. Do you know how illegal what I do is? I just don’t want to see you bleed out. Maybe I can even take you to a safe house where you can rest.”
“So that you can interrogate me? No thanks.”
“I mean, I’d like to know who tried to kill a kid, but that’s to make them pay, not you.”
As the guy gave a horrible laugh, Duke reached out and touched Cass’ elbow, reminding her they were all there. These sort of things always hit her hard. She sent him a grateful smile before focusing back on the screen. “Maybe I deserve it.”
The guy tensed suddenly, weight shifting like he was about to bolt as the video slumped slightly sideways.
Jason’s voice rumbled from close to the camera. “You’re what, sixteen?”
“…fifteen?”
“Uncertain,” Cass spoke. Duke had to agree, the guy didn’t know how old he was, not for sure.
“Yeah, no fifteen year old deserves to bleed out. You know who I am?”
Duke tracked the motion of the hood as it slipped. The white hair was curious, considering Bruce, but if the guy was a meta or had been in the Lazarus Pits long enough… or worse, both…
“I’m Red Hood. I protect part of this city called Crime Alley. I’m not afraid to kill a shithead, especially ones that hurt kids, but I never harm a kid,” the Jason of the video said, something they all knew was true. It was an argument still often enough on bad days. “I’ve got places to put you if you needed somewhere safe; places not in the system. Or we can get you somewhere. Do you have a place to go to?”
The guy laughed again. “That’s the thing. I do. I might, I guess. Just no one is going to believe me.”
It was Tim who asked, “Why won’t they believe you? Where do you need to get?”
After the photo earlier, they all knew what the guy would look like when he lifted his head, but it still made Duke glance over at Bruce.
“I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”
-
Jason motioned and the video stopped there and went away.
Bruce closed his eyes.
I need to get to Bruce Wayne.
Another son he didn’t know about. Another son he failed to save from a horrible childhood because he didn’t know they existed.
“He didn’t want to see you right away, but we think that Tim and I convinced him that we could arrange a meeting between you and him,” Jason said.
“Of course,” Bruce answered instantly.
Jason just gave a little nod and explained, “He doesn’t trust the offer, or us, completely. It was enough to get him to the safe house. Passed out on the way.”
“And still asleep,” Tim piped up from the computer. “I’ve been running analysis on the… collar he’s wearing. It’s definitely a one off, but very professionally made. There’s, well, there was a tracker in it that’s been crushed. It’s meant to deliver a shock if someone messes with it, but I can disable that long enough to remove it.”
“You should wait until one of is is there,” Duke spoke up. “Just… in case there’s a reaction when it’s removed.”
Duke ducked his head when all eyes turned to him, still bashful as the newest member of the family. Bruce had been trying to reassure the other, but he knew that was far from his own strength. Clearly he needed to try a different approach.
“Just, you know, he’s clearly a meta? Of some type? It’s probably a containment collar and it could release a, you know, backlog? Of power?”
“Good thinking,” Bruce assured Duke.
“Someone better get here quick then. I hate seeing this thing on him,” Tim grumbled. At least he agreed.
Bruce looked back at the photo still on the center screen to the pale, drawn face. Even in sleep his son’s face was etched with pain.
“Bruce?” Dick prompted.
Bruce took a breath and made himself focus, to be Batman, not a grieving father. How often had he had to make that choice? “Dick, you and Jason both should go. Tim, as soon as the collar is off I want you and Oracle working on it but stay mindful of traps.”
“Will do,” Tim replied.
“And what of the rest of us?” Damian asked.
His youngest had come so far, but Bruce knew this would be a big disruption for him. They would have to watch him. He caught Cass’ eyes and she gave the slightest nod.
“I want Robin, Batgirl, and Spoiler out on the streets. Don’t ask questions yet, we don’t want to lead anyone to him, but get a sense of the mood around the big players. If this is already on anyone’s radar, I want to know.”
“And you need to make a list,” Jason said. “Kid talked in his sleep, begged his mom to stop. Could just be nightmares…”
“I’ll make one,” Bruce said. His bedroom proclivities were hardly what the papers reported, but with how this new son wasn’t certain of his age, it could be pre-Dick, or even at the start of Dick joining the family. It certainly meant there would be more names then any of the years later on. Whoever it was though, Bruce would find them.
He had to try and do that much for his son.
--- AN: Not entirely sure about Bruce's part here, but he's always harder for me to write! I think goal is to get at least one POV with all of the kids, so I guess Dick's is next likely! I'm super fuzzy today (fatigue, day fuck it, seven? Eight? Of this headache), so I hope this is at least decent~
Stay delightful, darlings!
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!
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rileyslibrary · 11 months
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No fun allowed.
Based on this idea from anon: Can you feel that? A heat wave is washing over the 141 base. Who wants to do training at 35 degrees and counting? No one but Ghost of course... Maybe it's time for some fun summer activities instead? How about some beach volleyball in the sandpit where they blow up explosives? Fruit salad from a helmet anyone? Can our stoic lieutenant be convinced to enjoy this sunny day with the team?
———————————————————————
You were all melting in the heat today, but the lieutenant insisted on continuing the training.
Even the medics stepped in. They tried to emphasise the dangers of heat stroke, but Ghost dismissed their credibility and accused them of slacking off, claiming that he’s been through worse.
That’s right—he has been through worse. So why should you have to go through the same?
Without anyone else to turn to, you collectively decided to snitch on him and inform Price, hoping he’d be the most sensible of the two.
Being the man he is, the captain came up with a solution to please both parties—Yes, you would continue your training, but with water guns instead. This way, you could cool off from the heat while following Ghost’s training routine.
And so it happened—water guns, balloons, sprinklers, and inflatable pools were brought to the base and set up around the training grounds to simulate a field exercise.
The lieutenant wasn’t happy, but then again, when was he ever?
“This is bloody orange, and these look like fucking Skittles,” he moaned, looking at the water blasters and pointing at the balloons, “how are we going to blend in with these?”
You tried to reason with him, explaining that the bright colours would add to the difficulty since you would all have to work harder to camouflage yourselves. And, although he didn’t accept the idea in the way most people tend to change their minds, he stopped complaining.
Everyone changed in their summer attire except for the lieutenant, of course, who didn’t remove anything from his body. Not even his gloves. You asked him why he was still clinging to all that gear and pointed at a flare in his tactical vest, claiming it was unnecessary. He clarified that it wasn’t a flare but an Evian water facial spray. His response made you laugh, and in return, he made you drop and give him fifty push-ups.
And so the “training” began, and it was nothing like your lieutenant had hoped for. You were all deliberately blasting water guns at each other while staying within the sprinkler’s range to keep cool. Ghost soon lost his patience—if he had any—and chased around whoever dared to laugh or show any hint of joy, yelling things like, “Stop laughing, ya focken muppets,” and “This is serious; why can’t you take it the way is intended to be?”
And this went on and on until the water fight turned into a game of cops and robbers. Or, more like, one cop and many robbers, with Ghost chasing soldiers around and you treating him as the enemy.
And he loved it. Finally, he did.
Look at him now; so happy and running around, trying to catch you. He corners you inside a mock house, and you can see traces of his smile through the damp cloth covering his face. You desperately try to escape his grasp, but you’re too slippery. He lifts you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You scream and laugh simultaneously, and he responds with a menacing chuckle. He carries you to the centre of the training grounds and throws you in one of the inflatable pools—his “prison cells,” as he now calls them.
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lale-txt · 4 months
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❈ driving around at night ↳ w/ Gojo, Choso, Higuruma & Shiu
a/n: reader is gn! i don't know about you, but i love the feeling of being in the car with a friend or a lover when it's late at night, and your favorite song is playing, and the night feels like it'll never stop...
word count: 1.1k
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❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Gojo doesn’t drive, even though he’d be great at it, he never saw the need to learn it since he can literally teleport or call poor Ichiji if he needs to be somewhere
that’s why he prefers to be your personal passenger princess on your nightly drives around town
and he comes prepared–the perfect playlist depending on the mood, a bag full of your favorite snacks in his lap which he’ll unwrap for you and put them directly in your mouth (after taking a giant bite himself), and he’ll never fall asleep during the ride, keeping you entertained nonstop 
you don’t remember when it started, but it became some kind of ritual for you two after returning from a mission to just drive around without a set destination
some nights you just sit in comfortable silence and let the bright city lights pass by, some nights you’re both giggling and talking nonstop in your seats, talking about everything and nothing
Gojo likes it when you take his hand while driving, even if only for a brief moment, and he likes it even more to rest his own hand on your thigh, careful not to distract you too much but enough to let you know he’s here and wants to be close to you always
he’ll smile to himself when you hum along to a song he picked or when you glance over to him from time to time; he doesn’t need his Six Eyes to tell how much love you carry for him in your heart
you take away Gojo’s loneliness so easily, making him forget the burden he shoulders all the time, even if only for a moment; but it’s enough, you’re enough
it’s like loving him comes easy to you, and if there’s one thing Gojo will protect, it’s you, always you
❦ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
the ring of his bike bell announces his arrival, and he’ll stand there waiting for you under a streetlight, the sweetest, biggest grin on his face and a tiny bouquet of handpicked flowers held out for you 
when Choso saw a couple share a bike the other day, he immediately wanted to try this with you too
except that he didn’t exactly know how to ride a bike in the first place
you offered to teach him, but he declined; this was something he had to face by himself (he asked Yuji for help who, of course, couldn’t deny his brother the favor)
before you sit down behind him on the bicycle rack, Choso sweeps you off your feet, plastering your face with tiny little kisses like an overexcited puppy; he is just always so happy to see you and he was really looking forward to this date
he even brought a pillow for you, so you can sit comfortably while you ride the bike through the empty streets together
Choso will be a little quiet at first, focused on keeping the balance and riding safely, and trying not to think too much about how your arms are wrapped around his waist and how close you are to him right now, your breath tickling his neck a little and his heart beating so loud
only when you reach the canal and can see the starlit sky above your heads, the tension will leave his body a bit, in awe of nature and your presence 
you stop to sit by the water a little, making up constellations of your own, giggling and laughing while huddled together, the heat of his body oozing into yours
❦ 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀
maybe you’ve worked overtime on a case together, maybe you both sneaked away from an overwhelming office party; either way you both take a deep inhale as you step out into the night air as you walk to the parking lot together
Higuruma grabs the two helmets stored under the seat of his scooter and helps you put on yours, then tightens his own
once you sit down together, he makes sure that you hold on tight to him, your arms wrapped around his middle and your chin either resting on his shoulder or your head pressed against his back
you can’t see it, but he’s smiling so sweetly; this was always his favorite part of the day, just you and him driving into the night 
Higuruma always takes you to some spots he thinks you will like; sometimes the closest beach, sometimes a bit outside of the city where you can see the stars perfectly at night, and sometimes just to a 7/11 at the other end of town, just so you can try out the seasonal ice cream and soda flavors 
his scooter may be a bit old with a few concerning sounds here and there, but as long as it carries you two towards tiny adventures, Higuruma wouldn’t dream of getting rid of it 
after all, your kisses taste the sweetest at night, when it feels like the world has stopped spinning just for you two, as if you’re the only humans left in this world, carrying all the love in your hearts 
and even though morning always comes, the night will always be yours together with the breeze in your hair when you drive towards wherever the moon guides you
❦ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐔
if you had to describe the smell of the inside of Shiu’s car, it would probably be expensive
it’s mostly the lingering scent of his cologne and the smell of cigarettes that’s enveloping you like a veil; warm and earthy, bringing a calmness you only feel when you’re with him 
it became a habit of the two of you, driving around town at night, with no destination set, just the two of you in the car
Shiu’s hand would rest on your knee or your thigh the whole time, the other on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road, but occasionally he’ll steal a glance at you, his lips curving into the softest smile
there’s always a cigarette dangling from his lips, sometimes passed back and forth between you if you’re in the mood for one
Shiu will ask you to grab a lighter for him out of the glove compartment and lean in for you to light his cigarette for him, since both of his hands are already occupied (and he loves any excuse to be closer to you)
“but gimme a kiss first, darling,” he’ll mumble at a red light, shutting his eyes for a moment when your lips brush against his
occasionally you’ll end up at his place after hours of driving around, but if he has to leave early the next day for an important client, he’ll drive you home and walk you to the door to make sure you get inside safely–and to steal one last good night kiss from your lips
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