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#i'm still gonna be here doing whatever i want
sunrizef1 · 1 day
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The Alchemy
Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader
Warnings: Cursing
Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx
Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)
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“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”
Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.
“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.
Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”
There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.
“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.
The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.
The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.
You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.
You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.
You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.
Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.
Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.
He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.
When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.
He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.
“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”
You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”
“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.
You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”
“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!
“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”
The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”
“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”
Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”
You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”
“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.
“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.
He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”
You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.
But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.
He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.
“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.
You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him
“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.
“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.
You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.
No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.
Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.
Oh, that cheeky bastard.
Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.
When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.
Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.
You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.
You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.
A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.
But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.
“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.
“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”
He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.
“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.
As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.
“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.
“I’d love to.”
Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”
You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.
“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.
“You sure?”
You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”
“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.
“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.
Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.
When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.
Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.
The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.
He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.
That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.
A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.
It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.
Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.
You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.
So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.
“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”
You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”
“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”
You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”
There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”
“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”
“You can't pick the garage?”
“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”
“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.
“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.
Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.
When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.
You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.
On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.
He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.
“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.
Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”
Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”
Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.
“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.
“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.
“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.
“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.
“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.
“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.
Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”
With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.
“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.
“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.
Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.
“What the fuck just happened?”
Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.
He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.
“What’s up mate?”
“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.
Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”
Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.
“What was that about?”
“No idea.”
Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.
His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.
“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.
“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.
“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.
Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”
You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.
Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.
But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.
As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.
He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.
“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”
Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.
It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.
“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.
“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.
Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.
When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.
“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.
Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”
Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”
Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”
Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”
Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”
“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”
When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”
Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.
“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.
You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.
You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.
You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.
“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.
“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.
Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”
You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.
“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.
You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”
Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”
Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”
He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”
You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.
James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.
“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”
You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.
“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”
Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”
Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.
Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”
You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.
“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”
You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”
James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”
You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.
“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”
He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.
It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.
P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.
You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.
You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.
The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.
Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.
Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.
He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.
When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.
Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.
Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”
You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”
Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”
You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”
You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.
Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.
You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.
Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.
“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.
Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”
Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”
Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”
Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”
They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.
The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.
Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.
You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.
“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”
A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.
“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.
“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.
The Alchemy - y/n l/n
Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.
Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.
“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.
“Thanks man, it’s about me.”
Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.
Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.
You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.
As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.
———————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
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Text
Yearning Allegations - Pt.2
Part 1 can be found here
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
Word count: 1.4k
Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn
Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?
The first thing you do when you get back to your dorm is groan. Why the hell did you say that? Now she's gonna be worried about you, which is the last thing you'd want.
Annoyed with yourself, you kick off your shoes and throw your clothes into the corner before changing into an old oversized shirt you stole off Paige once when you slept over at hers. It's comforting, still smelling vaguely like her, and you curl up in your bed, plush bedcovers over your knees.
Earbuds in, you press play on Taylor Swift's newest album. Your taste in music was different from Paige's, preferring pop and rock, whereas she liked what you affectionately called "fuckboy music." Of course this was just a lighthearted inside joke, you also liked some of her music, like PartyNextDoor or The Weeknd.
You're halfway through the song 'Down Bad' when you hear a light knock at your door and a soft voice.
"Hey y/n? You good? Open up"
You open up the door to see Paige standing there with an unreadable expression, and then she just walks right in and drops onto your bed.
"Yeah, I'm all good" You say, hoping you sound reassuring. Can she tell you don't actually have a headache?
Paige doesn't say anything. She just seems to be studying you closely, and you nervously ramble on.
"You really didn't have to leave the party, sorry if I freaked you out or something"
You've said it all in a rush, and Paige just smiles a bit as she reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You want to speak up and tease her to ease the tension until you look at her face.
Paige's expression is gentle, and you notice just how dilated her pupils are in the dim light of your room. Her irises are small, nothing but a vivid blue ring, and you smile at the sight. Her eyes are just so pretty, they've always reminded you of forget me nots, or a clear sky, and you're so busy pondering their exact shade match that you realize you forgot to speak.
"What?" Paige says, suddenly self-conscious.
You blink a few times.
"Nothing"
You turn away, grabbing your glass of water off the nightstand.
Paige is looking at you, head slightly cocked, brows knit quizzically. Your mouth feels dry despite the water, and you want her to stop looking at you like she's trying to figure you out.
"I swear I'm actually good, deadass. My head just really hurts. Probably chugged too many shots during that drinking game earlier. " You put down your cup and dramatically flop onto the bed, closing your eyes and then peeking one open to check if your explanation worked.
Paige finally relaxes and smirks at you,
"Pfft y/n you're such a light weight. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
You scoff and reply with a grumbled whatever I'm fine, pressing a hand to your head dramatically, and Paige props herself up against the wall, holding one arm out for you.
"Alright, alright, come here."
You smile at her, cuddling up to her side. Her perfume smells so good. It's a subtle vanilla. You settle on her chest as she holds you.
"Also- are you wearing my shirt?" Paige says, rather amused.
"Yeah? Why, do you want it back? I’ll give it to you later" You retort, with half a mind to take it off and playfully throw it at her. This is how it was between you two, at least when you weren't acting like an idiot.
"Nono it's fine, just thought it was... interesting"
Paige pulls you back in, hiding her grin with her hand.
You're fighting off sleep, but you still scoff in response, and she just strokes your hair gently as you drift off.
---
The next week, Paige is over at your dorm, playing Fortnite on call with KK and Ice as you play League of Legends.
"Ughhhhh!!"
Paige groans with frustration, putting down her controller as she loses another match. KK and Ice are bickering with each other over call, and you just smile at the familiar sounds.
You're busy fighting hard in League. Your team is technically losing, but you think you might be able to carry if you score a few more kills at the right time. You don't look up when Paige sits down next to you, headset and game abandoned, head resting over your shoulder to watch you play.
"Another loss, huh?" You say, grinning while you score another kill.
You don't need to turn around to see Paige's eyeroll.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. I just lost cause I was trolling too hard"
Paige is a bit of a sore loser (and dramatic) so you can't resist the urge to poke a little fun at her.
"That's what you get for being a Fortnite player, cringe as hell man”
Paige throws her hands up as she retorts back,
"Dude you're literally playing fuckin League of Legends right now, you can't talk"
You finally look away for a second to grin mischievously at her, one eyebrow cocked.
"Well, at least I'm good at League-"
Not more than 2 seconds pass before Paige sticks her whole hand in front of your screen during a team fight, causing your character to die. You end up losing the game, considering the enemy team was already way ahead.
"What the hell, Paige!"
You whine, and she just grins evily in response.
"HA, what were you saying about winning??-"
You don't allow her to finish that sentence because you shove her over, standing up from the chair and knocking her onto your bed.
"Hey!"
Paige shouts as you start tickling her sides, absolutely going in. You've got a knee on her leg to make sure she doesn't wiggle away from you.
"Yeah, so who's losing now-" You laugh, her cussing at you, trying to pull your hands away.
After a few minutes, Paige pushes you over, and now it's a full-blown battle. Your hands scramble to find her weak spots before she can find yours, and you note how her loose t shirt has risen up, a bit of her stomach out as she kneels over. You seize the opportunity and tickle just under the hem of her shirt, fingers hitting bare skin.
Paige's face blushes a deep pink as she feels your hands go up her shirt, and she grabs one of your wrists, pinning it to the bed.
"Paige!" You can't get your wrist free from underneath her, she's stupidly strong. You can't even move away because she's sitting on you now, using her free hand to tickle your neck and side mercilessly.
"I think you're the one losing!" Paige says triumphantly, enjoying the sight of you squealing.
You sneak your other hand unpinned hand into her waist, tickling her side, and she curses, grabbing that hand and pinning it too.
Breathing heavy, you're both flush against each other for a moment, her body leaning over yours, and for a second, you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your lips.
You stop moving entirely, admiring her from your position beneath her, trying to mentally engrave the way the light highlighted the honey streaks in her hair into your memory. Your eyes dart down once to her slightly parted lips before glancing up to her eyes, the expression in them unreadable.
"I- I won!" Paige gets off you in a hurry, moving away quickly to smooth her shirt down in your bedroom mirror.
"Yeah yeah whatever" You say back, hoping she didn't hear the shake in your voice. You press the back of your hands to your cheeks. They're warm.
Paige doesn't stay long after that, saying she needs to get some homework done, and you just sit alone in your bedroom after she's left, playing back the moments to yourself.
What the hell was that?
---
Authors Note: Thank you guys so much for the love on the first chapter <3. Paige and y/n gamer losers, this is true.
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heartsforseo · 3 days
Text
Monster trio x fem! reader
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Summary: Reader has period cramps and monster trio tries to comfort them. request=open requested: <yes> <no> wc: 895 ft: monster trio warning: talks about cramp
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You woke up, groaning in pain and clutching your stomach. Five more days and it’ll be over, and in your opinion, the second days were always the worst.
And so, you had made up your mind and decided to hang around your bed until the day ends, maybe even get some sleep to ease up the pain.
Luffy was upset. He woke up early in the morning and caught a huge fish with Ussop and Chopper.
Obviously, he wanted to show it to you, but you never came out. The first time the door had opened he was already climbing up the stairs, but his face had met the door instead, and right behind it was Nami in her signature bra and pants.
The second time the door opened, he was standing right next to it. He let out a small snort and quickly tackled the person that came out. But, he was met with a hand smooshing his face away and the person stood up. Oh, it was Robin.
“Why hasn’t Y/n come out yet Robin? The fish is in the aquarium already!” Luffy whined.
“Maybe you should check up on her, Luffy. Make sure to not make a mess though, Nami will be mad.” The archeologist replied.
Luffy’s face contorted into a cheeky grin and left the area. He went inside the girl’s room and there he saw you; curled up like a cocoon, your hands clutching on your stomach and your head nestled on your legs.
“Y/n!” Luffy said cheerfully. “I have so many things to tell you! So basically I caught this HUGE fish and—Y/n?”
Luffy looked at you, your body slightly shaking and you bit the bottom of your lips.
“H-hey, should I call Chopper or something..?” Luffy muttered, shaking your body relentlessly.
You touched the poor man’s hand and he finally stopped. “Don’t worry Luffy, it’s nothing serious. It’ll go away eventually.”
“What do you mean by that? Aren’t you in pain?”
You chuckled, “Yes I am, but it is a different type of pain. I’ll explain it to you someday, but for now—I just want to stay with you.”
“So you ARE in pain. Why didn’t you tell me?” Luffy asked, completely ignoring the other words you had said.
You sighed and sat up, still clutching your stomach, “Fine, I’ll explain it to you.”
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“Do you get it now?”
“Not really. But that’s unfair. I don’t want you suffering for a week every month! Hmm…I know now! I'll ask Sanji to get you your favorite food!"
With that said, Luffy left the room and came back, "Here, I got you your favorite food, Y/n! Though I ate the other four..." 
"Thank you, Luffy. How about you tell me what happened with the fish? You never finished did you?"
Luffy sat on your bed and flashed a big smile, ready to tell you what happened while you were away.
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You had promised Zoro that you were going to train with him. You may be in pain, but you're a man of your word.
You went up to the crow's nest and saw the swordman meditating. Waiting for you, you presume.
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"That's ten over two. Have you been slacking off?"
"Of course not!" you tried defending yourself, "I'm just not feeling it today…"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You were holding your stomach after all." The swordman replied, not failing to notice your grip on your stomach.
Zoro walked away and sat down where you first saw him, "Attack me when you're feeling better. I'd want to fight you at your best."
Not one to accept snarky remarks, you picked up the sword beside you and stood up. You charged at the green-haired man, and your vision turned upside down.
"Stupid woman," the man muttered.
He puts his hands out and catches your falling figure, "I'm not gonna let you go until you tell me what's wrong."
"…Just some cramps," you finally let out.
Zoro sighed and let go of you, "You should've told me. No wonder why you weren't in shape."
"Hey!"
Zoro sat and pulled you to him, "You're probably cold, right? Well, I'll be with you, so don't whine no more."
That sleep was a breeze. First, you were being cuddled by Zoro in a quiet room, and second, you were being cuddled by Zoro in a quiet room. The only time you guys were woken up was by Sanji fuming outside the window.
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"I don't wanna get up," you muttered to yourself.
If it weren't for the sound of knocking, you probably wouldn't get up.
You open the door and see Sanji with a tray of your favorite food and some heating pad.
"S-sanji, what are you doing here…?"
"Can I not see my lover anymore? Go get dressed up, and I'll clean your bed."
You let out a little smile and took a shower. You could hear a few shuffling outside here and there. After a few minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom and saw your side of the room neatly cleaned.
Sanji was waiting patiently, sitting at the bedside.
"Are you ok, my love? Can you walk?" He asked.
"Yes, of course, Sanji," you replied
"Do you want to stay in your room or leave? I'd like to stay by your side."
"I'd like to stay here…with you, Sanji. I'm happy that you are my lover."
"No, I'm glad that you said yes that day."
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DAMN THAT GOT CHEESY T__T AND UH... I HOPE YALL ENJOYED IT. I RAN OUT OF IDEAS FOR SANJI ND ZORO SO IT GOT SHORTER. NO FAVORITISM HERE YALL. ALSO IF SOMEONE GETS THE REFERENCE I'D BE SET FOR LIFEEEE
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weird-an · 6 hours
Text
"For fuck's sake."
Jim already has a headache and apparently it's gonna get much worse. He pours himself a cup of the shittiest coffee in Hawkins and turns to the kid sitting in front of his desk.
"What happened, kid?" he asks. "Why would you do that?"
Billy Hargrove reeks of cheap liquor, trouble and the metallic smell of blood. His lip is split and he looks like he hasn't slept in a week or so.
Billy doesn't answer, just glares at him.
"Breakin' and entering is no joke," Jim starts again. He sounds as pissed off as he feels, because he still has Mrs. Carters shrill voice in his year, calling from Loch Nora about a burglar, about her fancy neighborhood getting sullied.
"I didn't do shit," Billy protests. "I…was just…"
He falls silent, mouth snapping shout like he regrets he even said a word.
"What?" Jim probes, because there's a piece of the puzzle missing.
Billy shakes his head, lips thin.
"Should I call the Harrington's and ask if you were invited?" Jim knows he's an asshole, but it comes more naturally to him than being nice.
Something flashes across Billy's face and his tan gets drained out by miserable paleness.
"Don't call them," Billy says, fingers digging into his thigh so hard his knuckles turn white.
"So, let's try again," Jim says, taking another sip from the dishwater the station claims is coffee.
"The key's under the flower pot," Billy mumbles.
Jim raises a brow. "And you know that why?"
Billy's eyes shoot dagger at him, the way only a pissed of teenager can look at an adult.
"Steve put it there for me," he says lowly, like it's a secret, something dirty and shameful you hide under your bed. "In case I need a place to go to…"
"So, you're pals?" Jim asks, huffing a laugh in disbelief. "Why didn't you say so?"
Billy's jaw tightens.
"Nobody knows," he finally says. His fingers find his necklace, tugging at the pendant. "It's better that way."
Jim is close to crack a joke about dramatic teenagers, but Billy's blue eyes are dark and there's a sadness there that doesn't belong to someone so young.
Whatever it is, Jim gets another piece of a puzzle - but apparently they're playing Hide and Seek.
"Okay," he says after a while. He'll put a stamp on the report, saying Confidential or similar shit. "You can go."
Surprise makes Billy look softer, less hurt. "What?"
Jim shrugs. "I've heard enough. Or do you want me to lock you up?"
It's a joke, but his throat clogs up when he looks down on Billy's file and sees that the kid had already spend a night the drunk tank a few weeks ago.
"Whatever, Chief." Billy lifts his hands. "I'm outta here, then."
The kid is halfway through the door, when it hits Jim. Billy can't go back to Loch Nora right now. Mrs. Carter is probably on guard.
"If you still need a place to stay, you can sleep in the break room," Jim offers. "The couch is a disaster though."
Billy stands in the doorway, eyes wide. He plays it cool when he catches himself.
"If I don't have to drink that shit." He points at the coffee. Jim can't blame him. Although 1 am is way too late to get cheeky.
"Just go to bed," Jim grumbles.
Billy salutes him. Jim can see his shoulders sinking, his whole body a bit less tense. Maybe he'll get them donuts for breakfast.
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Wants
Rise Leonardo x Reader imagine
Info + Warnings: Reader needs help wrapping gifts at the last second before a party. Leo's their hero. And a huge distraction. No gendered language, pronouns, or Y.N used for Reader. An attempt at Spanish by a very not Spanish speaking writer. Established relationship. Arguably steamy. Set a few years post movie.
Commentary: IDK what the fuck happened here.
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See, here's the thing.
You are extremely, incredibly kissable.
He knows this. He knows this like he knows his swords are sharp. He knows it in his bones.
He also knows you have somewhere to be.
(Really, his motives were good. He came over just to help you finish wrapping your friend's birthday gifts (okay, and give you shit for only now getting around to it). He just wanted to be a supportive boyfriend and make sure you had time to get ready in peace.)
And yet, because he's either an idiot or an asshole, here he is, boxing you in at your table and kissing you.
See, the thing... you look really, really good. And you smiled at him when you walked out of your room, all dressed up and looking forward to the party you're going to and grateful for his help.
And he's only human- turtle- hm.
He's not immune, is his point.
So here you are, getting kissed, and his hands are on your waist and yours are grabbing handfuls of his shirt and he's very, very happy.
It's only when you gasp against him- his hand slipped, okay, he hadn't meant to squeeze your hip like that- and the sound makes his heart skip one beat and crash into another that he realizes- with all of the force of getting hit by a train- that he has to stop.
It's like cutting off his own arm.
But he does it, he pulls back- pushes back against every fiber of his being that wants to keep you close enough that he can almost hear your heartbeat- because you have places to be.
And you deserve much, much better than him being a desperate disaster against your dining table.
Now he's staring.
He's staring and his hands are still on your waist and your hip and he has to stop. Has to. Needs to. Like, muy rápido, right now, yesterday has to stop.
"...Hi," He says, voice all shaky and gooey through his grin.
"Hi," You repeat, a little dazed as you're still clinging to his shirt.
You're smiling at him again. He's not sure you ever stopped.
Shit. Fuck. He has to walk away.
He wants to keep you there for the rest of your natural lives.
"You gotta go," He mutters grimly, and he realizes how fucked it sounds immediately, and he throws himself into an uncharacteristically jumbled explanation because his brain is still offline. "It's late- you gotta- the thing- I'm- fuck I don't want to stop kissing you."
You cock your head as you process his messy babble, blinking twice, and then you're laughing.
And then he's laughing, because really it's that or take one of your butter knives and portal himself into the ocean, and if he does that he can't do this again.
"I gotta go," You confirm with a wry, bittersweet smile, not letting go of his shirt.
It's going to be so wrinkled.
He literally could not give less of a fuck.
"You gotta go," He repeats, more to himself than you, and you must know that because you're laughing again and you must really not care about... whatever urgent thing you have to go to... whatever that was, because you're not helping him stop like. At all.
You're gonna be the death of him one day.
"Maybe... you could come back by tonight? We could watch that stupid racing movie you've been talking about-"
"It's a heist movie, thank you-"
"-And, uh..."
"Don't say chill. I'll explode. I'll expire."
"I was trying to say cuddle," You say, bashful and exasperated at the same time, somehow. As though he'd ever say no. As if he knows how to say no to you. As though he ever, ever stood a chance.
It's beyond cute. It's enough to make him want to squish you and literally never let you go.
"You gotta go," He groans, his hands darting up to cup your cheeks and squeeze your face softly. "You're gonna drive me insane. What even is this again?"
"Birthday party."
"They'll have another-"
"Leo!" You laugh over his playful persuasion.
"You can send a card-"
"Leo."
"I'll pay for postage. I'll lick the stamp."
"Leonardo," You breathe, all fond exasperation, as though you'd ever let go of his shirt. As though you're any better than he is.
He almost wants to push just a little farther, see what else he can get you to call him.
He really wants to.
He wants a lot of things around you.
And even more when he's not around you.
And now, he's facing min-ee-mum four hours being not around you.
He hates it.
He takes the feeling and balls it up and three-point-shoots it into his mind's trashcan, because you deserve to go and have fun and be merry and all that jazz. He gets you to himself enough- never enough, literally never enough- that he can share.
Plus, he did a fantastic job wrapping those gifts.
And, as easily as he twists and leads and convinces other people, he's played himself right into a corner, because now it's both you deserve him being normal here AND his ego.
He'd be impressed by himself if it weren't for the fact that it means he loses.
He shakes his head a little, because he lost the plot minutes ago and you really gotta go and he's still got you against the table.
"Movie night?" He asks, just to hear you talk. He knows the answer.
"Movie night," You confirm happily, releasing his shirt.
He whines a little. He's barely even embarrassed at this point.
You laugh again and smooth the fabric out, hands warm on his plastron and making him a little insane again, before you press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for your help, honey."
"Thank me by making sure those are put front and center on the table, yeah?"
You glance at the boxes- done up in blue ribbon, you notice- and nod. "Art deserves to be displayed," You say seriously, and he's dangerously close to kissing you again because you're perfect.
"Yoooou-"
"Gotta go?" You finish with a knowing grin, eyes smug, head tilted playfully, perfect.
"Extremely, extremely yes. If you don't go I'm never gonna let you go. You gotta go."
"Hm..."
"Nope!" He says quickly, cutting off whatever tease is about to come out of your mouth, clinging to his sanity by half a thread. "Nope, nope, you are taking those boxes and you are going and you're going to have a great time and be safe and that is final."
"Are you telling me or yourself?"
Perfect. The death of him. Smug and clever and kissable and the worst and the best.
"Both, apparently."
"...I can be a few minutes late-"
"Baby, gorgeous, mi vida, if you don't get out of this apartment-"
You laugh bright and mischievous and delightful, and you press a quick kiss to his lips, and you scoop up the gifts and your keys ("You can port out, right?" "I think I'll manage.") and your phone and wallet and he grabs the door for you, because he's a gentleman (unwilling to be an inch farther from you than he has to).
"See you tonight," You promise, turning back to look him in the eye with more open affection than he was ready to see outside his own reflection.
"See you tonight," He agrees, knowing he sounds lovesick.
You leave, he closes the door, he slumps forwards to rest his forehead against it as he turns the lock and laughs breathlessly because his chest feels like it's going to explode from how much of it is just you.
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suzukiblu · 2 days
Text
WIP excerpt for Marina; obligatory sugar baby Kon. ( + non-chrono link for mobile. )
“Um . . . right,” Suzie says quietly, and . . . well, he just thought it: she's a secret herself. 
Tim definitely needs to just take over whatever neighborhood he buys Kon a cul-de-sac in. Or maybe just, like, the entire tri-state area. Get Suzie a little place of her own, maybe, with an actual living space in it. She doesn't have physical needs like the rest of them do, no, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't have anything. Like–he doesn't know, whatever girls like. Stuffed animals and her own TV and a place to keep, uh . . . okay, Suzie doesn't need batarangs or a place to store smoke pellets and caltrops or grappling lines or work on her equipment or anything like that, but still. It's, he doesn't know–the principle of the thing, or something. 
He's gonna have to work on his trust fund budget a little, maybe. Ridiculous as it is, buying an entire tri-state area would definitely put a significant dent in it. 
“Suzie,” he says. “Are you . . . alright here? When the rest of us aren't around?” 
“Yes?” Suzie says, looking confused again. That was probably an unfair question on his part, Tim thinks. It's not like she really knows what he means by “alright”.  
Kon didn't either, after all. 
“I mean–it's not too lonely?” he asks. 
“Oh,” Suzie says, then bites her lip. “Um . . . I mean . . . I'm fine, yes! You don't need to worry about me!” 
Maybe this is a Bat thing, but absolutely nothing has ever worried Tim more than hearing “you don't need to worry about me” from someone. 
“Okay,” he lies, and smiles at her. “But you know you can call us if you want to make plans sometime, right? You don't always have to just wait for us to show up.” 
Suzie looks at him for a long moment, then–well, she doesn't turn pink, exactly, since that would require blood and veins and actual skin instead of smoke, smoke, and more smoke, but he's pretty sure she blushes all the same. 
“Oh,” she says. “Um–right! Yes. Yeah. Yes.” 
Tim smiles at her again, trying to be–he doesn’t know, reassuring, maybe. Something to the effect, at least. 
“Good,” he says. “It’s good for the team to spend time together outside of emergency situations, anyway. We can’t only hang out during crisises and expect to work well together, you know? So it’d be helpful to have an extra excuse to, really.” 
“Right!” Suzie says, beaming at him, which hopefully means that implying she’d be doing something good for the team by asking for attention when she feels isolated or lonely worked. 
Tim really doesn’t know why he didn’t think more about her living situation before this, but to be fair, he also thought about literally no one’s living situation before Kon just casually announced that he lived in an ethically-dubious cloning lab that wasn’t paying him, so . . . yeah.
Definite oversight. Definitely a thing to pay more attention to in the future. Just–definitely. 
Several kinds of definitely.
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Text
Stars Align: Part 5
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Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Eventual Smut, Violence, Alcohol, Sexual Themes, Hidden Feelings, Swearing, Cheating, Established Relationship.
-- Part 4 Here --
________________________
18+ Only
________________________
Past:
You and Bradley didn't speak for a few days after your conversation at the beach, but you felt your cold shoulder beginning to fade when Bradley showed up at your door with a bunch of daisies in his hand, which he thrust at you as soon as you opened the door.
''What are these for?'' you asked.
''For whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry.'' he said genuinely, and it broke your heart that you'd made him think he'd actually done something wrong.
''It wasn't you, Bradley, I'm sorry for the way I acted.'' You apologised softly.
Bradley grinned and softly punched your shoulder, ''Besties again?''
You chuckled, ''Never stopped, Bradshaw.''
Things went mostly back to normal after that, with Bradley still spending most of his time with you. There was the odd occasion Michelle would call Bradley and ask to meet up, where he'd disappear for a while, only to reappear at your house the next day as if he never left.
Bradley didn't say much about Michelle around you, obviously sensing your dislike for her, but it became more and more obvious that they were getting closer and closer to doing the deed, when Carole let slip one night that Bradley had a romantic date planned for her.
You wanted to be sick at the thought, but instead you smiled at her and mumbled 'That's nice, hope you two have a good time.' as Bradley blushed a bright shade of crimson, you both going back to the lovely dinner Carole had cooked for you.
''So, what's this date you've told me nothing about?'' you chuckled as Bradley walked you home that evening, the cool air wafting his poofy dark hair over his eyes. He smoothed his hair back and chuckled awkwardly.
''It's nothing, just dinner. A picnic actually, up on the hill.''
''Are you gonna... you know?''
''Gosh I dunno, Birdy, what's with the interrogation?'' he flushed.
You were both quiet for a moment, until you neared your front lawn and looked up at him, ''For what its worth, I don't think she's right for you. I think you can do better, Rooster.''
Bradley was about to speak, when your dad walked outside.
''Ah, I'm glad you're both here. Can you two come inside for a second, we need to talk.'' your dad said sombrely, and you could see your mother in the hallway, her eyebrows creased.
''What is it, dad?'' you asked as you walked towards him.
''Just come inside.''
__________________________
Present:
Your most important things were packed in a suitcase, the rest still in your apartment. You'd signed a year lease so you thought at the very least if things panned out, you could use it as a storage unit until things were set up in California.
The plane landed and your stomach was in knots. You hadn't told Bradley you were coming yet, and as you left the airport and got in a cab, you suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.
It was too late to turn back when you decided it was, in fact, a very bad idea, because you were already pulling up outside of Bradleys bungalow. You took a deep breath as you paid the driver, and you swallowed down the nerves as you took your suitcase out of the trunk. You thought you were going to vomit as you walked up to the front door and knocked.
You waited for what felt like an agonisingly long time, but when the door finally swung open, you knew you'd made the right decision.
''Birdy?'' Bradley breathed in disbelief, his hands cupping his mouth as his eyes scanned your face.
''Hope that invitation is still valid.'' you joked sheepishly.
Bradley lunged forwards and swept you up in his big burly arms, you dangled helplessly like a doll in an overly early childs hands, and you chuckled as he buried his face in your neck.
When he finally put you down, you grinned up at him, and noticed his Adams Apple bobbing, he was trying not to cry.
''Oh, you big softie.'' you punched his shoulder and he chuckled, rubbing his eyes.
''I just can't believe you're here. I didn't think you'd come.''
''Well, are you gonna make me live out here on the porch or can I come in?'' you teased.
''Right! Come in, I have a room for you.'' Bradley stepped to the side and grabbed your suitcase. He gave you a quick tour of the little bungalow that you thought seemed too small for a man of his stature, and lastly to the bedroom he'd prepared, just in case you came.
''Wow, Brad, I thought you said you didn't think I was coming?'' you breathed. The room was already set up, pink floral duvet covers and fluffy pillows awaited you, a poster of your favourite boy band in school, and the canvas you'd painted with Bradley stood pride and centre on the wall.
''I know, but I hoped.'' he said simply.
You looked up at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to your height. You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and then wrapped your arms around his neck.
''Thank you.'' you whispered as you hugged him.
''Anything for my lil Bird.''
It took a while for you to let go, but when you did Bradley left you to unpack and relax for a while.
You walked around your room and smiled, it was simple and mostly empty, but it had a sense of home that your apartment in New York didn't have.
You sat on the bed and breathed in the smell of sea air wafting in through your windows.
Once you'd unpacked and changed into a more summery dress, you met Bradley in the lounge, the sound of a football match roaring through the speakers. Bradley turned the tv off as you walked in, smiling at you.
''California suits you.'' he grinned.
You swished your dress from side to side, ''Yeah, I think so too.'' you winked.
''How do you feel about meeting some of my friends?'' Bradley asked, as he stood and met you at the centre of the room. He stood over you, tauntingly close, the smell of his cologne teasing your nostrils.
''You mean that blond guy, Jake?'' you scrunched up your nose.
''There are others, I promise.'' he chuckled, cupping your face in both of his huge hands. He stared down at you so intently, for a moment you forgot where you were.
''Why are you looking at me like I'm not real?'' you breathed out a soft, awkward laugh.
''Because I'm scared you're not and I'm gonna wake up without you.'' he said earnestly. Your heart thudded against your chest as his face grew closer, his eyes dipping to your lips.
Knock Knock Knock
Bradleys front door suddenly interrupted you, and you both stepped back, looking at each other for a moment, before Bradley went to answer it.
''I may have texted the group that you're here, I think they took that as an invitation to come and meet you.'' he said apologetically. You laughed as he opened the door and 5 people walked in.
''Hello again little lady.'' Jake, the only one you recognised, grinned at you, toothpick between his teeth.
''Hi, Jake.'' you smiled politely back.
Bradley introduced you to the others as they filtered in, each toting various drinks and bags of snacks.
''This is Nat, Bob, Reuben, and Javy. You'll meet Mickey at some point but he's on his honeymoon at the moment.''
You said hello to everyone, and Nat pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you a lot of Gabby, and you suddenly remembered you needed to give her a call later.
''It's so great to finally meet you, Rooster has been talking about you for years!'' Nat laughed.
''Great to meet you too! Years, huh?'' you shot Bradley a quizzical glance, and he just rolled his eyes.
You all filtered out into the little back yard, where Jake and Javy fired up the grill as everyone got to know you, drinks at hand and before long laughter filling the little yard.
Bradley made his way over to where you and Bob were talking, slinking an arm casually over your shoulder as he took a swig of beer. He joined in the conversation and didn't notice as someone new walked out the back door.
Bob noticed first, and tapped Bradley on the shoulder, his eyes shooting over to the new comer to alert Bradley.
''Hi all!'' she chirped, ''The door was open, hope you don't mind if I join?''
Bradley groaned, moving his arm off of your shoulder as he turned to face her.
''Hey, Alice. Sorry I was gonna call you.'' he said awkwardly as he walked over to the leggy blond.
''Alice, this is my best friend, Y/N.'' He said introducing you with a grin.
And then half heartedly and with a sheepish look, he turned to look at you, ''Y/N, this is Alice... my girlfriend.''
__________________________________
Past:
“What do you mean? Why can’t you just do that job here?” You demanded.
You were sitting in your living room across from your parents, Bradley was next to you with his face in his hands.
“There isn’t a position here for me, Y/N. This job is going to sort out so much debt for us-“ your mom nudged your dad and shook her head to stop him from talking.
“Are we having money problems?” You asked softly.
Bradley lifted his head and looked around with furrowed eyebrows.
Your dad sighed, looked at your mom and she took over, “We’re fine, but we are struggling. This job is our only choice. I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s going to be difficult, but Bradley can come visit whenever and you can stay with them during summer vacation.”
Your parents left you shell shocked in your living room with Bradley, who just looked at you with wide, watery eyes.
“Well, I guess that’s it then…” you mumbled.
“No, it can’t be. I haven’t planned for a life without you, what am I supposed to do when you’re gone?” Bradley suddenly exploded, standing to his feet so quickly it startled you.
He began to pace, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna be stuck with Michelle as my only source of company.” He ranted.
“Isn’t that what you want?” You asked softly.
Bradley looked at you like you’d just asked the most stupid question ever, “No! God no! She’s boring, and stuck up, and rude, when I’m with her all I can think about is getting out.”
“Then why are you with her?” You shook your head in exasperation.
“Because… you don’t get it, Birdy. I’m the only one in my grade that hasn’t… you know. I needed someone experienced who I could do it with.” He groaned, sitting back down and putting his hands over his face.
“Brad, why didn’t you tell me that’s the only reason? If you’re gonna lose your… you know, it should be with someone you actually care about.” You said gently, placing a hand on the top of his arm. He lowered his hands and looked at you for a while.
Bradley sighed, “The only person in this whole damn town I care about is you.”
You were about to respond when your brother walked into the room and wailed dramatically.
“Have you heard the news? Our lives are over!”
—————————————
Present:
“Girlfriend? Oh, hi, nice to meet you.” Your voice was small and shaky, and you had to clear your throat.
Bob noticed the awkward tension and was the first one to realise what was happening.
“Oh my god! Bradley talks about you non stop! So nice to finally meet you, girl!” Alice squealed, hugging you.
Bob cleared his throat, “Y/N, do you mind helping me grab some of the food from the kitchen?” Bob asked, looking you in the eye and giving you a signal.
You nodded and excused yourself, and as soon as you were in the kitchen, you let out a long shaky breath, tears prickling your eyes. You had just made a horrible mistake coming here.
“Hey, are you okay?” Bob asked, rubbing your back comfortingly.
“Yep. I just… I need to call someone. Excuse me.” You rushed off to your bedroom and closed the door, pressing your back up against it as you breathed through the sudden panic.
You found your phone on the nightstand and dialled Gabby’s number.
As soon as she answered, you began to sob uncontrollably.
“Y/N! What’s going on, can you breathe for me please?” She called over the phone.
You attempted to pull in a few short breaths until you were calm enough to speak.
“I’m such an idiot!” You cried.
“Why? What’s happening? You scared me when you left this morning.”
“I… I went to California. Bradley asked me to, so I did, I thought he wanted me here because he felt the same.” You sniffled.
There was a brief silence on the other end, “He doesn’t?” She sounded surprised.
“He has a girlfriend, Gabs, one he never told me about.”
“Ohhh, fuck. Have you met her?”
“Yeah, just now. I was so blindsided I must have come across as rude. I can’t believe I thought Bradley and I had any future, or that he loved me the way I love him. I’ve loved him for what feels like my whole life, Gabs, when am I going to realise I can’t have him?” You wept.
Suddenly the door creaked, and you turned around suddenly to face Bradley, who stood in the doorway with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyebrows furrowed, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill over.
“Oh my god.” You whispered. “Gabby I have to go.” You hung up and dropped your phone on the bed.
“Brad-“
He held up a hand to shush you, and edged into the room, closing the door behind him.
“Don’t speak.” He said as he crossed the room. He stood over you and a large hand came up to thread through your hair and cup your cheek.
A tear dropped down your face as you looked up at him, your lip quivering.
“Did you mean what you just said?” Bradley whispered, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest against yours, your lips inches apart, his warm breath on your skin.
“Yes.” you croaked out. And that’s all you needed to say, because Bradley’s lips came crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. The room spun as your eyes widened, and then gradually fluttered shut.
His other hand cradled the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into your lips.
The tears fell faster now as your heart felt as if it was exploding, the fireworks inside you turning your skin alight. You grabbed a fistful of Bradley’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the feeling you’d waited decades for was finally washing over you, better than you'd ever imagined, buckling your knees from underneath you.
Bradley’s hand moved from the back of your head to your lower back and he pulled you into him, holding you up, and still it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, desperate for more, hungry for more, but your conscious suddenly rocked through you like a bolt of lightning and you pushed against Bradley’s chest. You broke away from him with a gasp as you fought for breath. Your hand moved up to your chest to soothe the thrumming inside as you panted.
Bradley looked at you with a confused, longing expression, fighting for his own breath.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bradley demanded, his face flushed and lips beautifully swollen.
You bit your lip and shook your head before you breathed a laugh, “Would it have made a difference?”
“Yes, Birdy, it would have made all the difference.” He nodded, hands on his hips as he contemplated your words.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend before I flew out here?” You asked him sadly.
“I… I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He looked at his feet.
You shook your head again as you sighed, “I’ve loved you since that stupid moustache began to grow, Brad. In fact I think I loved you the second you saved me on my first day of school.” You breathed.
Bradley’s eyes shot up to meet yours, his bottom lip wobbled as he nodded, “Yeah, that’s about the same time I fell in love with you, too, Birdy.”
You opened your mouth to speak but a sharp knock rasped against your bedroom door and you jumped. The door opened and Bob poked his head through.
“Uhm… you guys should probably come outside.”
—————————————
-- Part 6 Here --
Taglist now open 💛 please let me know if you'd like to be added!
@dizzybee03
@lucyjenniferx
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salaimoi · 19 hours
Text
first story from my new, ongoing series: talk to me nice. feel free to leave any constructive criticism! (I can handle it, unlike Gojo)
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"Look, I didn't ask for your stupid advice, so don't pretend like you know everything."
Gojo hissed at you, nearly popping a vein from how smug you were being right now.
The only thing you suggested was that he stop dressing like somebody’s grandpa all the time – he had a physique carved by the gods themselves, why not put it to use? Such a waste, honestly.
"Mm~ whatever. So sassy," you replied, followed by an eye roll violent enough to nearly cause your eyes to fall clean off your skull. “Ever heard of constructive criticism?”
"Yeah, yeah. You know, instead of just giving me advice all the time, why don't you compliment me for once? You know, say something nice about me — it's not that hard. "
"Me? Compliment you? Gojo please. Unless you wire me every single yen in your bank account, you won't hear a single praise come out of this mouth.”
Even though he himself felt very frustrated right now, he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the banter – so much so that he would begin to grin as he tried to control himself from bursting out laughing. You were playing a dangerous game here because he could actually make this deal happen, and you were perfectly aware of that — but despite that, you were still trying to push his buttons and he’d make you eat your words because of it.
"You know what, I think I will actually do just that. So let me ask you, what happens when I send over every yen in my bank account, will you genuinely compliment yours truly?" he smirks in that usual arrogant manner, growing more and more interested by the second. "I better get my money’s worth, you know."
Still thinking he was bluffing, you replied, "Obviously. But you only get one compliment."
"Humm~ fine, and it better be the most heart shattering compliment in the history of compliments — soul crushing even. Now, I'll go ahead and transfer you the money," he paused for a moment before remembering something rather important. 
"I need your bank account number to wire the money."
"W-wait … you're not serious are you?”
"Why would I lie? I’m serious about this and you'll also be serious about your part, got it? So I need that bank account number now."
"Are you insane!? I was only kidding, genius!"
"Maybe I am, but I'm doing this because I really want your compliment. So don't try to discourage me because for every minute we spend arguing here, I'm losing my patience.”
And it wasn’t like he needed your flattery; he just wanted to hear you sing his praises as a contrast to your usual behavior. You were always so cold and apathetic around him, but he knew that wasn’t the real you — and he took it upon himself to reveal the side you buried under that stoic facade. 
“So just tell me your bank account number and I'm going to transfer the money to your account right now — the full 59 billion."
Your body froze in utter shock as you realized he was dead serious. Straightening yourself on the mattress, your mouth hung wide open — staring at him in disbelief. The realization of it all was enough to cause one of your eyes to twitch in perplexity.
"Gojo you must've lost your mind if you think I'm gonna accept that,” you scoffed at how insufferable he really was, but secretly loving every second of it. "Who in their right mind would spend ¥59 billion on one compliment?"
"Only people who can afford it, of course,” he smirks cynically, tossing his phone up into the air just for it to land right back onto his palm. “If you ask me, ¥59 billion is too small a price for a compliment directly out of that pretty mouth of yours.” 
“You’re insufferable. For fucks sake, you should have a mental disorder named after you.”
“But you can't actually deny that I'm pretty charming, can you? You might not show a hint of  affection, but I think it's pretty obvious that you like my insufferable attitude. Or are you gonna deny that you don't?"
He unlocked his phone, opening the banking app and going into the transfer section.
You didn’t hesitate to smack the phone out of his hand, causing it to fall down on the bed. 
"Satoru, are you even listening to me!!??"
"Heh~ you're actually quite impressive when you finally get serious. You were really quick there with that tiny hand of yours.”
“This tiny hand of mine will be enclosing around your neck until you’re out of oxygen if you continue to act like an unsupervised child with access to money.”
His expression was thoughtful for a few seconds before he pointed at you, flashing his pearly whites.
"You know, you're actually pretty attractive when you get all aggressive like that. It really looks cute on you. I don't know if I can actually handle someone who's this much of a pain in the ass but still has a cute side to her."
He chortles, leaning back on the headboard before continuing, "See? That’s how you compliment someone, wasn’t that hard now was it? Now you do it.”
Your eyes narrow, two fingers rubbing at your temples as you contemplate the situation.
"You know what. Fine. If you want to recklessly spend your money like this, I'll give you what you want. No comment until I see that money in my bank account, though."
This reply made him burst out laughing, his grin becoming a bit bigger and he began to speak with a playful tone.
"Alright, if you say so. But just remember, it'll be too late to back out after I've already sent the money…”
[One new notification: direct deposit from Gojo Satoru received. New balance: ¥59,000,000,000.024.]
"..."
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
"...you have nice eyes?"
"..."
"..."
“I want a refund right this instant, y/n.”
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allastoredeer · 2 days
Note
Hola I was wondering if you are planning to dive more deep in the hypnosis headcanon, or if Vox will try it again on Alastor later on, in your fic, and Lucy will smack the shit out of him.
Like is your plot gonna have the vees as secondary villains, who tries and fail to sabotage the hotel or are they gonna totally give up on conquering hell now that the king is back?
I know Alastor made them think that he and Lucy are together, but Vox didn’t actually believed that they were a thing the first time they were presumably caught in sexual activities. I felt like he just wanted to rile Alastor up during the meeting and getting any reaction out of him, probably cause he craves Alastor’s attention…so i don’t think he fully believes that Alastor loves Lucifer still, cause in his mind Alastor is his. He saw him first kinda of logic XD
Like Imagine if Vox convinces himself that ‘his Alastor’ is being forced to do what the king wants cause of a supposed deal, made after he disappeared, So he tries to save him or whatever, always getting between Lucifer and Alastor, asking him out in front of Lucy, and overall being a gentle soul to Al which only scares the shit out of the deer, who wants nothing to do with him. Eheh I love Vox being a delusional IPad
Also is Lucifer gonna get possessive of Al later on? Cause that’s my fav kind
Thank you for listening 🫶
Oooh hooo hooo twosouls out here asking the real questions. Some of which I can't answer due to spoilers, which in and of itself is an answer, I guess.
With Vox in "Damage Control," he was in a very weird, confrontational, possessive state about the whole thing, especially during the Overlord meeting. He kept going at Alastor and accusing him of things he was doing with Lucifer, and being a general out of control mess, but when Alastor more or less "confirms" that it's true, his immediate reaction is to deny it. He may have been going at Alastor, demanding to know what these rumors were about, but deep down, you're right, he didn't actually believe they were true.
He was just acting out because of his own complicated feelings for Alastor. He doesn't like this rumor and how much it's spreading throughout the city. It brought out a lot of old, ugly memories and he is not reacting to them well. Seeing Alastor face to face again, for the first time, definitely doesn't help.
As for Lucifer getting possessive of Al 😏 I guess we'll see, won't we.
All I can say that Vox and the Vee's are going to get involved later on in the series, and I'm excited to get into it.
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kateisprettyodd · 2 days
Text
Discussing Watcher again lmao
Okay, now that a couple of days have passed and emotions aren't running high anymore - I wanna talk about the situation, the backlash, their potential response and everything else once again (with somewhat of a refreshed POV lmao).
I haven't changed my mind about this move whatsoever since the moment I heard about it. I'm an international fan, and through the very kind Tumblr user who is organizing a subscription match-up between fans through Email - I think it was @prettyghoul- someone was thankfully willing to reach out to me and share their account. So the money issue isn't a problem for me, sure, but WAIT - the website isn't international, I don't know if it's gonna be made available in my 'insignificant' Eastern European country (lmao), so a whole slew of issues arise that aren't money related (but of course, someone else would be paying, so I can't really speak on that issue on that person's behalf).
Secondly, people who are defending Watcher on here and on other social media - I understand you, I get you, but to be perfectly honest some of you are cherry-picking the information you present and are somehow blind to their intentions, either on purpose or genuinely. I don't understand how people can't see that making this move is so incredibly selfish. That's the best and frankly only way to describe it. And no, it's not because creatives don't deserve to be paid for the work that they do, and it's not because we are ENTITLED to receiving free content on YouTube (which is the main narrative being pushed by defenders on here) - but it's because their ambitions do not line up with the audience-based shows they have been creating. They have incredible creative abilities and true passion for creating shows which are "much higher-quality than other YouTube shows" (simply not true but I digress), but nothing will ever change the fact that they started on YouTube, that their main audience was cultivated on YouTube, the place they have come to despise because of the limitations to THEIR creative work, such as appealing to advertisers and whatever else they mentioned in the video. This I can understand, YouTube's algorithm sucks and advertisers are also horrible, as well as the fact that 'unappealing' yet passionate shows don't do well - this can all take a hit on their creativity and their passion for YouTube. I understand. But they have to weigh these cons against the pros, and they clearly did a horrible job of that. YouTube allows them to increase their relatability and their marketability if you play by the rules, YouTube allows them to connect with other creators WHICH SOME OF THEIR SHOWS LITERALLY depend on, YouTube allows them things like the discover page and the trending page where new audiences can find your stuff once you expand your reach to appeal to different demographics and interest groups, YouTube Membership is a thing if you need income, whatever. I understand that they don't want to play by the rules, but if your audience is gone then who are you making these shows for??? When your main venture is paid, even if it is 'only' 5.99 a month (lmao again), other options where they can make revenue immediately close up, since they can't really justify them. Why does their Patreon still exist??? What was the purpose of PodWatcher??? How are shows like Are You Scared? and Too Many Spirits going to survive on a streamer, shows which are based on that exact YouTube vibe of low-production two dudes chilling and laughing. Why are they considering their shows TV-caliber? Puppet History and Mystery Files are certainly NOT TV-quality and they are the second- and third-most popular.
Which is what brings me to my next point - how this all seems Ghost Files and Travel Season centered. No one can convince me that most of their expenses are not going to these two shows right now. Ryan said it himself, a season of Ghost Files takes hundreds of thousands of dollars to make, which is fine and I commend him for that effort. I don't even have to tell you why Travel Season also may have cost them a lot of money - which is also fine and I understand the appeal of it. But why not try a different approach? A season of Ghost Files doesn't necessarily have to come out every year, they could space out their budget, spend time churning out Too Many Spirits and Are You Scared (also shows that perform quite well), update their Patreon to look more Mythical Society-esque, do a merch drop (I have seen so many people asking for box-sets of their shows, and I can guarantee people would have paid A LOT of money to get a Puppet History karaoke thing on Patreon or WHEREVER)... Just generally diversify their income??? And space out these GIANT, extremely expensive shows, generally pace themselves and take it easy?
Now, they won't be able to expand their reach EVEN IF they bring new personalities onto the streamer. No one new will hear about them, and if they do, why would they pay for something they've never heard of before? There is no algorithm to cater to the masses which recommends their videos to new people. People who were here from the BFU days are disilluisoned and probably won't pay. They legitimately sacrificed their audience for money to fuel their creative ambitions, but their creative ambitions don't have an outlet anymore.
TO BE CONTINUED as this is too long already
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yarameijer · 3 days
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Hey again! I just had this weird little idea for like a pre accidental reverse timeline story with Raimon except most of them are already in college (like the first years are still in their last year of highschool) and a new crazy threat appears (am I thinking of apocalypse? Maybe, but any threat will do) so like as the forever stuck captain (the role never stops even when most of the gang's in college and doesn't have much time for soccer anymore, but hey groupchats make friendships last), Tenma has to round em all up again but this time the college students are now equipped with new skills they learned from being in college and their own majors and-
I'm a little high with sugar right now i think so like just this au sounds so appealing to me for no reason.
On the otger hand- apocalypse au????? I wanna start on that myself ngl
Ooh, apocalypse AU. I'm gonna be honest here,,
I'm sorta working on one?
Super different from what you've described tho, but still. Apocalypse AUs are surprisingly fun sometimes. For me. Not so much for the characters! I think Tenma needs like four separate therapists to deal with all his issues.
ANYWAY lmao the whole setting of your idea is cracking me up. ''forever stuck captain'' is so real, Endou can confirm. They'll never get rid of the role.
Tenma being like AVENGERS ASSEMBLE, except it's SOCCER PLAYERS ASSEMBLE (summon the soccer players...?) and them just being terrifyingly and chaotically effective... I can see that happening. Very much so.
This actually sort of reminds me of this idea, a sort of AU of Accidental Reverse, in which the whole of Raimon is sent back to the past? The entire team. And they just. take the world by storm. The reason Fifth Sector doesn't go down within a week is because Raimon decides to have some fun first. They,, may sort of,, take over the Japanese economy (Shindou's fault) and the soccer world because they're ''fighting fire with fire''. AKA they COULD stage another revolution through the means of soccer and show everyone what real soccer is, OR they could fight Fifth Sector for their influence and power OR infiltrate them from within and take over the whole thing (in secret, of course. Endou might suspect. Endou will take it to his grave.) because that's more fun.
I haven't decided yet if Tenma would actually be sent back in this one too, because on one hand, we want the whole team together and happy and a force of nature, but on the other it seems very funny to have the entire team doting on baby Tenma because ''he's so small!! He's so sweet!!!! Must protect!!!'' Like Shindou casually drafting a message that will wipe out a massive branch of Fifth Sector on his phone while taking Tenma out for ice cream. Like, yes.
Whoops, I got a bit off track there lmao. Back to the original idea - I can actually see Endou doing something similar? Getting pretty much anyone who's anyone in the soccer world together with just a few messages, for whatever reasons. And since it's been ten years... questionable skills, anyone?
I get why sugar-high-you got stuck on this idea, the more you think of it, the more potential it seems to get :D
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johnslittlespoon · 11 hours
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leaving bikeriders anon here again i’m going crazy over the back and forth constant neither of them saying anything out of nervousness of it all like of COURSE it would take them forever to actually get together there would have to be an honest to god crisis a completely off-kilter situation for them to get together they’re so bad at communicating. also have not been able to get the thought of them running into each other by chance at a bar across town and even though bucky showed up with people he just ends up at a table in the corner with gale the whole night. gale jokingly asks if john is even old enough to drink which turns into a whole thing where john suddenly has to prove to gale that he CAN drink and he IS old enough and is Definitely Worthy of gale’s attention. anyways!
HIII i'm still ON one about this too dw
exactly my goddd the back and forth would be physically painful to write/read honestly lol the flirtation and the sexual tension!!
ur so right smth absolutely wild would have to happen, or one of them would have to slip up, or there'd have to be an argument where feelings are blurted out in anger/hurt, orrrr, in relation to your idea at the end which i'm going clinically insane over bee tee dubs:
john is so offended by the insinuation that he's too young to drink even if gale's joking, made worse probably by gale throwing in a kid– "you old enough to be in here, kid?" with the corner of his mouth quirking up a bit.
john puffs his chest out and tries not to let the one beer he's had slur his words, goes "'course i am" all huffy, rolls his eyes, reaches for gale's full shot glass while holding determined eye contact and tips it back without a second thought, really has to clench his fist in his lap for a second when it threatens to come right back up, not used to anything quite so harsh.
it's not gale's intention to egg him on like that, john's just bristly, a messy college kid used to bulldozing his way through life, never turning down a bet or challenge, has maybe been watching a pretty girl hang off gale's other side on top of everything and wants to prove that he can be exciting and mature too.
john ends up drinking too much, taking whatever shots the others in gale's group pass him for their entertainment until gale shuts the next person who tries down with a pointed glare, slides the shot glass away before john can reach for it, says "alright, we're cutting you off" when john whines out a complaint, leaning heavily against gale's side.
the night ends with gale helping john out of the bar because john's friends leave long before he does. he gets john out to the parking lot out front, gets him situated on the back of his motorcycle, keeps a hand on his shoulder and asks where home is, and john's like, "oh, no, can't go home like this buck, dad'll gimme a shiner" and gale's jaw clenches hard, but it's not the time to get angry.
he's at a loss, because he's not gonna bring john home to an environment he's had a faint suspicion isn't the greatest since they met (however that might have been, that's shit for me to plot out later lol) but bringing him to his house seems like a bad idea, but he's also not sure what to do and john's friends don't seem the greatest to just leave him with a borderline stranger. so what else is there to do?
"am i gonna have to tie you to me, or are you gonna hold on tight?" he asks as he climbs on the bike in front of john, and john giggles out a "y'can tie me to wh'tever y'want," filter completely gone from how sloshed he is, and gale looks to the sky and says a silent prayer because jesus fucking christ. what.
i'm like 99% certain that alcohol would be involved in a feelings confession, probably that night when it slips out from john's lips, so drunk he doesn't even realize it. nothing would happen that night, because gale's trying to be a responsible adult and he wants to make sure john's not just saying shit, but he's also quite forward, so he'd bring it up in the morning after he's brought john a water and some painkillers, and john would go so red and he'd drop his head into his hands and whisper an "oh my god" because he can't believe he's slipped up so bad.
and then yk. feelings–talk ensues. john is so mortified, he wants to die. gale is so enamoured but trying to be realistic about things. etc etc i'll flesh it all out eventually when it's time to start writing it >:)
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ceasarslegion · 5 hours
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wait, now im really interested in the silica gel drama. how did hlrp sex ed lead to eating a gel packet?
This is going to require a novel's length of context.
To begin, I want to underline that this is not meant to be a callout post, and I will not be providing any identifying traits that could be used to single this person out. The most you will get out of that are she/her pronouns, and her age at the time this happened, which was years ago, and I will not specify what year. I genuinely do hope she got the help she needed after this, because LORD knows she needs it and didn't find it at home. This is also not meant to be a character assassination, nor should anybody who reads this post consider it to be a takedown of any sort, and if you try to find this person through me or any of our mutual friends, you will not be met with kind words. The only thing this is meant to be is a wild-ass story of some of the most off the wall experiences I personally had with this person from my specific side of the story, with a few no-username screenshots attached to prove I am not bullshitting you.
With that in mind, let's get started. This is going to be very long, so I'm throwing in a read more
Back when I was in uni, I joined a growing group of Half Life roleplay blogs. The whole idea of our group was that we each chose a character, canon or OC, and we would blog as if the pre-Black Mesa incident moment in the timeline was a workplace comedy a la The Office or Superstore. I played Barney, because I was already working night shift security at this point and thought it would be funny. Plus, it gave me something to do that wasn't staring at CCTV feeds all night tossing a ball against the wall. We played off of each other very well, yes-anding our way through funny little situations and plotlines we put together. At one point we had roleplayed enough that one of the scientist rpers created a discord server for us to talk as the actual people we are instead of through characters.
Great idea at the time. None of us saw the "Pandora's box" label on the tin before we opened it. Would I still join it if I knew what was about to transpire? Yes, because I met my boyfriend and many genuinely lovely friends through it. Would I hesitate for a second first, though, as the events that are about to transpire flashed before my eyes? Oh, abso-fucking-lutely.
We started off as many fandom servers do: chill for the most part, very loud minority of a few assholes who ruined it for the rest of us, but unlike most fandom servers, we actually won and it ended in them getting banned and the server itself surviving to this day. But the other two lunatics are not who you came here for. You want the christian lunatic.
Let's give her a nickname to make this easier. I have the Sylveon build a bear on my PC desk. Let's call her Syl.
Syl was not there for Half Life, she was there for Portal. She LOVED Portal, Half Life was just part of the same universe for her. Portal wasn't just a game for her, it was her entire personality. Which I didn't see much of an issue with at the time, because she said she was 15. Whatever, I thought; she'll learn to control her emotional attachment to things as she gets older. Syl also said that she was christian. I am a flaming atheist who doesn't even believe in the concept of a soul in comparison and I am NOT the biggest fan of christianity as an institution to put it mildly, but I'm not gonna like, be a dick to you for your personal religion if you are not a dick about my beliefs, so I didn't think much of it at the time.
It quickly became apparent that Syl looked up to me more than any of the other adults in the group the more I would talk about my life growing up as a third culture kid and moving out on my own at 19, working 2 jobs and going to a good university. She would ask me a lot about growing up and uni and moving out and yes, sex ed, and it became even more apparent that she didn't get any actual guidance from her parents or pastors or ANYBODY beyond bible studies and homeschooling, so I kinda stumbled into a mentorship role in her life. I wasn't cold, but I was aware of the age and maturity difference between us and established the appropriate boundaries with her and made it very clear that I am an internet friend, not an irl friend or an educator, but if no one else was going to give her information that wasn't actively harmful then fuck, I guess SOMEONE had to do it. I could not in good conscience watch some kid go through life with harmful inaccuracies about the world and basic human biology when I could have done something about it, y'know?
And the more things I taught her about the real world and how things actually work rather than how her republican bible-thumping rural town said they did, the more I realized she was born into a full-blown cult under the guise of a christian congregation. Oh goody, I had my work cut out for me. I will not get into the details of how messed up this group was because it will be a dead giveaway of where she lives and potentially who she is, but let's just say that one time I said that I appreciated the gesture of praying for me during a stressful week I was having but it didn't really do anything for my mental health because I was an atheist, and she sent me a bunch of bible verses begging me to start believing and said "I just don't want you to go to hell because you're so nice :((" EXCUSE ME??? Another time she said that death was only sad for non-christians because their loved ones were in hell and that proper christians deaths were a good thing because they were in heaven now. Hi, that's the most insensitive death cult shit I've ever heard in my goddamn life.
Okay, set up is done. All of these details will tie in like the world's worst reboot of Pulp Fiction, I prommy.
After a good long while learning about the world from me (which like... a uni kid working night shift security is not exactly an academic source but we take what we can get) and exposure to viewpoints outside of her in-group, Syl began that very painful journey of realizing that what the cult taught you was a lie. Except that she just wasn't grasping that unlearning things was an active process. She started to flip to the opposite side very quickly, but kept all the fundamental brainwashing of the cult that raised her. The concepts were all the same, just slapped a different label on them. This created a noticeable pull between two sides of the same personality: the cult personality, and the person beyond the cult who wanted to break free. Mix that with how fucking 15 years old every 15 year old is, and you have a LETHAL concoction just waiting to blow up at the first sign of a spark.
Remember how I said that Portal was her whole personality? Syl decided that she wanted to be a scientist, and go into an ivy league program like I was in (I was in a SOCIAL science, but sure). Problem was, she didn't have the grades or the ambition, really. I had told her that I still got into an ivy league when I failed math in high school, and she seemed to completely miss the part where I said that I also joined every extra-curricular, then worked for 2 gap years for recognized institutions, and wrote an essay about why my math grade is not relevant to my program. I did it with one bad grade, so she was justified in basically just slacking off and then excusing it with "but its haaarrrdd" when we'd tell her she needs to put the fucking work in NOW if that's what she wants to do.
It quickly derailed from here. Not only was she going to be a scientist, she was going to be like Cave Johnson. And she was going to... replace her body with robot parts so she could be like glados. I don't... think she actually knew what science is, because she would just publically fantasize about running unethical experiments on people in the name of "science," and talk about how one day she wants to basically establish aperture labs for real. All of us who were there kind of agree that we don't think she was joking based on what we knew about her and the cadence of her tone. Here's something she said at the time to give you an idea of what direction she was nosediving in:
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This was after a session with her therapist where said therapist said that she definitely has some kind of personality disorder, after which she was weirdly proud of having one and treated it like a badge of honour.
Syl then made a separate group chat for all the best friends she made on the server. There was her, me, @false-pyre, and @imtheaura. She titled it "My Family," despite the fact that we were all adults and she was 15 and she only knew us over a discord half life server where one person in it stepped up to somewhat equip her for real life outside of a cult. Regardless though that GC was more the vibe of a group of friends sharing memes and chatting about the day than the wider server was at the time. The others began to also take on a sort of mentorship role towards her as well, because that's kind of inevitable when you get someone talking about teenager problems in a room full of adults who all made the same mistakes before in their own lives. Well, minus the cult.
And remember how I said that she didn't unlearn any of the cult shit? Well, there was a lot of proselytizing. She decided she wasn't christian for a spell, but still wanted us and everyone to know that jesus was the lord and savior and we had to accept him or we'd burn in hell. Usually said after we'd make some joke about satan being daddy or declaring ourselves god instead, because that is just the type of humor the others and i have with each other. She took it so personally whenever one of us would go "oh my god" "you called?" it was fucking annoying. I lost count of the amount of lectures she gave us, all of which I'd shut down and tell her to get a grip about because I have a big stupid mouth.
The others and I also like to talk about evolution, and speculate about where we're going from here. My fucking god, did she not like that. She bit our heads off about how evolution isn't real and god made everyone as we are and there's no scientific evidence or whatever the hell. Like yeah good luck getting into STEM with that mindset. Whenever we pointed out that she was objectively wrong about that, she'd have a big stupid meltdown about how much we're slandering god and how jesus died for us and we're spitting in his face or whatever. He should spit in MY face inste-*GUNSHOT*
Eventually, we were making some actual progress with her. She was still one fry short of a happy meal and going off about how much she wanted to put living subjects in test tubes in between knocking on our doors and reciting Hello from the Book of Mormon musical, but we were getting somewhere. And then she went back to in person school, and her favourite teacher got fired.
The schoolboard did not say why she got fired, but we all had our suspicions that it was because she openly supported queer rights in a cult town. She was coincidentally retired shortly after making a declaration that queer people are still welcome in god's kingdom. This teacher was the first in person adult Syl had for guidance, so that incident shook her to her core, and she fell right back into the extremism. Hook, line, and sinker, even more extreme than before.
She was WEIRD that week, man. Suddenly everything was about how great god was, how amazing jesus was. Suddenly she understood why her cult member parents "just wanted to protect her" from gay characters on disney+ originals. Suddenly no one could say "jesus christ lol" around her or she'd have a fit. I said "I hate cycle counts lmao i wanna kms" because my then-job (I had graduated at this point) made me do inventory management spontaneously and wouldn't let me go home until I had counted every product in the store, and she bit my head off accusing me of turning suicide into a joke.
It was that incident that made us tell her to knock it off already, that we understood it was a hard week for her and she was in a period of grief, but that is no excuse for how she had been acting towards everyone around her that wasnt christian, and that she was actively relapsing. I'll let the exchange speak for itself:
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So uh. After years of helping Syl through this she goes and pulls this bullshit. And then has the fucking AUDACITY to act like nothing ever happened in the wider server. I am genuinely gobsmacked by the balls on her to act like it was all sunshine and rainbows in the wider server after sending this and immediately leaving the same GC SHE made and titled "My Family" just because we told her to stop acting like a goddamn Jonestown citizen after all the work we'd put in to get her out of that mentality at this point.
So I dragged her up in front of everyone and essentially said "no, nuh uh, you don't get to say that shit to the people who have lost sleep and asked for nothing in return trying to help you escape a cult over the last 2 years and then act like we're all buddy buddy to everybody else. You don't get to be that arrogant and self-righteous without any consequences. I don't give a fuck how young you are, you DON'T treat the people who have helped you this much like that, you selfish little shit. How dare you treat us like this after all we've done for you over the years."
Unfortunately, no one involved had surviving screenshots of this, but they can back me up on it if they so choose. And oh boy, DID she face the consequences of her own actions. The whole server basically turned their heads and went "what the FUCK is wrong with you, Syl??" and asked her to at least like, apologize. She proceeded to double down with the added audacity of "you guys taught me how to establish healthy boundaries, that's all I'm doing right now :(( oh woe is me :(((" like WOW, okay. Someone's really going for the persecution complex.
Here's her last goodbye to us all before the mass block fest occured:
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Oh, boohoo. You're so hard done by. You spat in the faces of everyone who stayed up all night multiple times helping you through crises and spent the last 2 years teaching you about how the world really worked and then they asked you to apologize after you tried to escape accountability. You truly are god's strongest soldier, the most persecuted minority in the world. Let me play you an ode to how righteous and holy you are and how this was the most important hill to sacrifice all your outsider friendships on on the world's smallest violin.
Syl then went on to post on her roleplay blog that she "was banned because I spoke up for what was right, and they didn't like that" before deleting it. Truly no one has suffered as much as you.
Anyway, the day after that went down, I called in from work, bought this book, and read the whole thing purely out of spite:
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It was greatly therapeutic. After that incident, I vowed to never sanitize my own atheistic beliefs for the benefit of others again. If they don't like them, they don't have to talk to me. But I am not changing them for other people or keeping them quiet just to spare your feelings anymore, I have as much a right to my beliefs as anyone else does, including the world's most persecuted minority here.
And well, the silica gel incident?
There was one incident, during the height of Syl's "I am the irl cave johnson and only want to get into STEM to conduct unethical experiments on people. follow jesus" era, the rest of us were joking about how silica gel packets are the ultimate forbidden snack, and said "haha would eating it make you see shrimp colours" knowing full well it can kill you.
Syl proceeded to actually eat a silica gel packet and then send in "it has a sandy texture and tastes bad" prompting the rest of us to go "WE WERE FUCKING JOKING FIND YOUR POISON CONTROL HOTLINE RIGHT NOW"
And because i didnt get this done until now, I'll tag everyone who said they wanted to read this or expressed interest: @captainjonnitkessler @formydarlingtoread @cra-zwizard @chasingnightrainbows
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thedragonsfate · 5 days
Text
FHJY thoughts under the cut bc I gotta sort my brain and can't be succinct to save my life
I think there's something interesting in acknowledge like
of COURSE Kipperlily underestimated the bad kids.
She's hated these kids from day 1. I know a lot of people want to acknowledge that it's not unreasonable for Kipperlily and the rat grinders to think the school is run unfairly (and you're right! it's a fair conclusion)
-- but we also gotta consider that this is something that took root in her VERY EARLY. Before the bad kids got really very good. Two bad kids die on the first day of school, they spend a significant amount of their second semester freshman year just. In Prison.
Of course what follows I'm sure spurs that hatred, but she all but declared Riz to be her nemesis with Jawbone freshman year.
She's probably got some good ideas of how stuff should change, but also she saw this random Goblin boy with a briefcase in rogue class and decided she Hates Him, for a reason none of us can fathom when several of the other bad kids give off worst first impressiona
She's a teenager, a kid, with anger issues. As much as their can be important nuggets at the core of her motives, she's a teenager without emotional regulation skills. That combination is BUILT to breed resentment and feelings of entitlement. and it's built to actively ignore any evidence of a different perspective.
We talk about how she doesn't understand them, takes Kristen as entirely uncaring, doesn't expect the bad kids to do so well in the Last Stand
and OF COURSE she doesn't. some of this because she of course is not privy to all of the bad kids interactions that we are as an audience. but a lot of it is probably because she's a teenager who's decided she's being slighted and as a result is never going to take the bad kids actions on good faith. she's doubled down and while I have a feeling she's extremely perceptive, she's also in an emotional place that means she probably is ACTIVELY ignoring any evidence to the fact that maybe the bad kids are just ALSO working very hard, and that the school itself may also work against them sometimes.
Add to that a god corrupted into rage (negative in this case) and conquest, and a nefarious faculty member as a potentially directly manipulative adult in her life trying to make something big and destructive happen. Kipperlily strikes me as the kind of person who knows she's smart, and knows she's clever, but is so blinded by her emotion that she is probably missing some of whats clearly in front of her as far as all the Jace business goes. She certainly is about the bad kids.
Jawbone can only do so much to help her in her sessions if he's being actively worked against. Emotional regulation is hard to learn from zero AS AN ADULT and she's probably coming from the negatives if my impression is correct, and is doing so as a teenager.
I guess what I'm trying to say is like
In a vacuum? Sure augeforts comment about trying being stupid or whatever does seem like another slap in the face for Kipperlily, one that justifies some of her feelings.
But not about the bad kids. and not to the extent she has taken them.
And to take that at its word feels weird to me because. To anybody paying attention? The bad kids are and have been trying SO SO hard in class. Them having to take the last stand in the FIRST place is specifically because the school system is treating Kristen unfairly DESPITE her best, GOOD efforts. I'm certain the rat grinders are on some level aware of Gorgugs EXTREMELY uphill battle with schoolwork this season, even if it's just Maryann catching part of a convo with Porter or Ruben hearing about it from his uncle. I HIGHLY doubt that Oisin was oblivious to the way that Adaines academics were affected by her not having the money for the correct materials - she still was able to excel mostly but the effects of that roll being at disadvantage for so long are still THERE. Jawbone pinned down and mentioned to Riz his similarities to Kipperlily within maybe 2 seconds - there is 0% chance he hasn't brought something similar up in Kipperlilys sessions. She may not like it, she may not have the emotional intelligence to see it this way, but his efforts almost certainly mirror hers in a way that makes them equally hard workers, absolutely determined to keep themselves afloat despite it being an uphill battle. Something that she feels she deserves to be rewarded for, and to an extent implies that if just a few circumstances were different she would be able to see equal value in his work.
And sure you can say she may be able to see that and be angry that their work is rewarded and hers isn't, but we see time and time again that she and her party don't always put that same level of work in? Mary Ann at blood rush, absolutely uncaring but doing well specifically because she's got some magical enhancements. The suspicious circumstances of Kipperlily finding the Rogue teacher. Even just the natural advantage of Oisin having more than the funds he needs to excel in wizard class.
But even regardless of that, she seems to refuse to see that any scenario in which others are praised for the same thing she's done, while she is ignored etc, is the sole responsibility of the school here. the bad kids are not her enemies in that fight - augefort is. The bad kids are not going around being consistently given advantages from the school, they're earning the things they get and hitting their own academic road blocks, and they aren't acting better than other people in a way that goes beyond like. Teen stuff. And yet her sights are trained so unblinking on them.
I can see Fabian and Kristen's popularity and personalities coming off like it supports that they're being treated better or feel some superiority. And it's teen stuff to quietly hate those ppl at your school! it's p normal!
But it always brings me back to her SPECIFICALLY hating Riz. Bc Riz isn't a rich kid throwing parties that everyone loves. Hes not sniping out comebacks the way Kristen does, sometimes without even thinking. In a lot of ways he's the/one of the least abrasive of the group to an outsider. Which makes me SO much more inclined to call bullshit that this is truly, honestly rooted in an acknowledgement of any of the REAL problems that come up with their school system.
It's complex, but I feel like we can't exalt their perspective as a Truth of the world like it seems some folks do when these characters themselves do not play fairly. What is fair about the way they interfered with the exam. What is fair about what she did so easily to Buddy Dawn. What is fair about the murder of the couple that owned that farm. Depending on what happened - what is fair from them about Lucy's murder. Certainly what is fair about their hand in Yolandas.
This idea that things are unfair isn't untrue. But not in the ways she thinks, and shes moved so far beyond that notion at this point. Kipperlily probably DOES believe that she's uniquely a victim of this system, or at least that everyone but the bad kids is. But she's moved so far beyond that. Whatever divine rage magic is involved has ensured that, as well as probably some Adult manipulation, and severely underdeveloped emotional regulation skills. and for me that means like. obviously she is unjustified in her actions.
Augefort is absolutely unhinged. his school has never been run in a manner that rewards buckling down in the classroom and the classroom only. It's an adventuring school in truly the most chaotic and violence rewarding sense, and that information is given freely by Arthur augefort at maybe any turn
Saw something about the theoretical being just as important as the practical. and yes! absolutely! a very good point that I'm glad was brought up - going to the classes is important and I think this season has really emphasized the ways in which that's true at least in terms of Staying in School and Honing your Skills
I do think, in the same breath, that that STILL means that the practical is ALSO just as important as the theoretical. It CAN'T be one or the other, it HAS to be both.
and the bad kids are DOING both. regardless of what it may count for, the rat grinders xp leveling by continuing to do freshman level combat in order to excel more on paper ISN'T them really doing the practical part of what theyre learning in their higher level classes. And the bad kids do not get credit for their saving of the world REGARDLESS. Not on its own merit, and to get the credit they'd have to jump a hefty academic bar that sort of invalidates the point of practical efforts in the first place, not to mention works against students like Fig and Kristen.
The school is actively rewarding Kipperlily and her party's cheat code practical use of their skills, over the bad kids putting just as much if not more effort into their LITERALLY WORLD SAVING missions. whatever favoritism shes seeing, or that there may be occasionally, Kipperlily fundamentally takes the bad kids in bad faith. It's not ABOUT what is ACTUALLY unfair to her at this point.
from her perspective every accolade or accomplishment from them HAS to come from favoritism in order to fit how her view of whats actually unfair has been warped. for her it doesn't MATTER that they've been trying because they MUST not be trying as hard as she is. it doesn't matter that they visibly saved the world three times, one of which was livestreamed and included several party members dropping, successfully because surely it's a fluke, or they were given better opportunities than others for no reason, or they're being falsely worshipped for what MUST be a less dangerous quest than it seems (despite us seeing clearly on the first day of school that nobody is putting a pedestal up for their night yorb win)
What could have been a justified spark of frustration with a system has shifted into a vengeful sense of entitlement that to me? fully abandons the good of wanting to change a school system actively working against some (/all?) students.
idk maybe this all sounds like jibberish I just
Kipperlily in her current state is INCAPABLE of not underestimating the bad kids bc that would require some acknowledgement that they have worked and bled and died to reach the level they're at.
You cannot separate the girl who sneaks in to the Last Stand to sabotage another party's chances of passing, of staying at school, of continuing school, of one of them from potentially keeping their god alive, and of being brought back from what she assumes is certain death - from the slighted teenager running for class president to make things "more fair"
you cannot separate the girl who easily slits her own party clerics throat without second thought from the girl who thinks she's been slighted by an unjust system
What she means by unfair is inherently colored by her being that same person
Augefort can say whatever nonsense he wants, and it doesn't really justify her current frustrations at this point because her version of fair is fundamentally unfair now.
Shes a child who's become corrupted, just like Buddy. but unlike him - she's become genuinely nefarious and vengeful. Unlike buddy she is actively plotting. Harming others with full knowledge of it. We don't know how much of it comes from her on her own, or the rage baking underground, or Stardiamonds direct involvement - but I think this most recent episode should make it clear that like
Whatever truth there is to the school being run in a way that is unfair to its students, and regardless of what she says or thinks
Kipperlily Copperkettle is not operating from that grounded perspective. and I don't think she has been for a long time
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beanghostprincess · 6 months
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forever angry at people making sanji spoitify playlists including songs like "family line" for them to then call the playlist something like "vinsmoke sanji the prince of germa 66 vinsmoke vinsmoke sanji vins-"
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knowlesian · 2 years
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okay, i’m not gonna call out names because i think people deserve chances to grow and i’m not assuming any malicious intent, but i also feel a need to answer something addressed to me today, because empathy’s gotta go hand in hand with accountability.
this is why talking about race (in fandom, or otherwise) is often like slamming your face into a brick wall that keeps insisting it’s on your side.
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okay. so i sort of debated how to handle this: i think i’m just gonna quote myself. you may have missed this piece, so hopefully it’ll give context for why i’m not sure exactly what to say, and remain unsure.
i am very sure that until the day i die, i will be doing the hard and frustrating and not super ego-boosting work of diving into the mental dumpster of weird bullshit i was implicitly taught and unpacking it all.
so i know i will breathe my last and i will still have all these racist ideas, rattling around my noggin fucking with how i see the world and how i treat people, even though i don’t know i’m doing the thing. when i talk about people being racist and having implicit bias, i am also talking about me!
because racist is a descriptor, not an insult. and as much as it sucks for me to unpack this shit (don’t let anybody tell you it’s not hard work or that it feels good to do; it’s really hard and it will make you feel very small and gross sometimes) the people i accidentally aim it at deserve me putting in that effort and have it much worse.
so when i’m like, it was racist stede did that? i’m not saying stede is a bad person, and i’m not saying fuck that guy.
i’m saying oh shit this show is SMART, i do that too! it’s me!
so. i don’t know why you posted this and then bounced: i don’t know why you didn’t @ me, if you wanted me to see it and respond.
like... is your issue that i’m talking about race too much? that i’m being mean or unfair when i do it? that i don’t talk enough about how hard it is for white people to think about race, or that i’m not being understanding enough that it sucks to look at people who hurt you and have to consider you might have something in common with them? because i’ve said exactly that, too. you’re right, it’s not fun to do this work, and it is work.
i guess i just don’t understand the purpose, here, or why you’d say all this and not explain what exactly you want from me as a writer to do differently. and if that’s not your goal and i’ve misunderstood, then...  i mean. i guess i remain confused as to what you want me to take away from this, other than “it’s hard to be white, and you have made me feel very uncomfortable about it so i wish you would stop”.
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