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#like hes not pretty but as for an old guy. like he looks fine
5sospenguinqueen · 2 days
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Love To Hate | Daniel Ricciardo x Gasly! Reader
Summary: Daniel Ricciardo is known for bickering with Pierre Gasly's older sister online. The fans love it but they suspect there might be something more behind it.
Warnings: Swearing. One sexual innuendo. Female reader.
Takes place in the 2022 season so Daniel is with McLaren.
Main Masterlist
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mclaren just posted
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liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and others
mclaren spot the difference #MonacoGP tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo
2,446 comments
YourUserName the one on the left can actually drive
→ User 1 wtf does she know about f1
→ User 2 um, her baby brother is a GP winner so…
danielricciardo @ YourUserName coming from the woman who failed her driving test twice
→ YourUserName @ pierregasly you weren’t supposed to tell your little racing friends that!
→ pierregasly do not drag me into this nonsense.
landonorris @ YourUserName thanks pookie
→ danielricciardo more like pukie
→ YourUserName you’re just mad that he gets bitches and you don’t
→ danielricciardo okay, cradle snatcher
User 3 mom and dad are fighting again
danielricciardo here’s to a good weekend 💪
→ YourUserName ass licker
→ danielricciardo you wish.
→ maxverstappen1 can you guys not do your foreplay privately
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by arthur_leclerc, lilymhe and others
YourUserName soaking up the sun before the madness resumes (01/06/2022) 🌻
2,488 comments
danielricciardo i need to bleach my eyes. please cover you up before you mentally scar someone else.
→ User 5 he says like his jaw didn’t drop when this came across his timeline
User 6 how to become y/n gasly
→ YourUserName have an annoying brother and endure his equally insufferable friends
lilymhe the only reason i’m still with Alex is so i have an excuse to spend time with you in the paddock
→ YourUserName we could get married and then you could see me all the time??
→ alex_albon it’s a good thing I’m used to this or i might cry
→ georgerussle63 don’t lie. i can hear you sobbing from my hotel room.
MaleFriend wow 🥵 → danielricciardo try harder (comment deleted)
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PierreGASLY you’re both certified yappers. it’s why the two of you together is a nightmare
User 7 hmm, okay but why were you two together in the first place if you hate each other…
→ danielricciardo I was bullying her
→ YourUserName pierre ditched me to talk to a pretty girl and Daniel was making fun of the fact that I got lost
→ LandoNorris i wouldn’t have left you… just saying 👀
→ YourUserName i’m 10 years old than you, boo.
→ LandoNorris age is just a number
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danielricciardo just posted
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liked by mclaren, scottyjames31 and others
danielricciardo preferred mode of transport... fast
6,443 comments
YourUserName title of your sex tape “i'm in love with my car”
YourUserName someone’s clearly compensating for something
→ danielricciardo omg why are you so obsessed with me. Get out of my comments, stalker
→ YourUserName let’s not forget you stalked me first
→ danielricciardo where’s your proof
→ pierregasly here. you begged me for her instagram until i gave in
→ danielricciardo and then i realised what a bitch she was
→ YourUserName just ‘cause i wouldn’t blow you
→ pierregasly i need you to delete this
User 1 this man is so fine
User 2 i’d like to ride
→ YourUserName you’d have more fun with the car
→ User 2 omg hi queen
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liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and others
YourUserName last race of the season today. just wanted to say a big ‘well done’ to my baby bro. so proud of all you achieved this season and i know you’ll go on to kill it next year! 🍾 #AbuDhabiGP
3,323 comments
YourUserName yes, i know one pic has daniel. no, it’s not an announcement of our friendship. i just like how scared pear looks
User 8 i have never been more attracted to a frenchman before
danielricciardo and who is that handsome man
→ YourUserName there is not a single handsome man in this post; charles was sulking out of the frame
→ pierregasly 1) i am very handsome, 2) stay away from charles, he’s too nice for you
→ danielricciardo and too pretty
→ charles_leclerc stop it or i will fall in love with all of you
→ YourUserName @ pierregasly i’ll stop if you promise to get rid of daniel so i don’t have to see him again
→ danielricciardo and deny you of my bakery 🍑
→ User 9 it's cake, honey, but you tried
User 10 anyone catch the camera panning to y/n when daniel’s car spun out in qualifying
→ User 11 talk about delulu
→ User 12 because he almost crashed into her brother so obvi they would show her
pierregasly just posted
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liked by francisca.cgomes, yukitsunoda0511 and others
pierregasly a huge thank you to my support system. je t'aime grande soeur 🌸 (she forced me to post this, please send help)
5,222 comments
YourUserName you’re such a liar! you were legit crying to me last night about how nice it is that i still come to all your races and then said you wanted the world to know
→ pierregasly don’t expose me!
→ landonorris come sit in my car instead. rub a little luck on it
→ User 12 never beating the no rizz allegations
danielricciardo @ landonorris probably best she doesn't, she’s clearly a curse, mate
→ YourUserName and how many races did you win this season?
→ danielricciardo i hope pierre pushes you off the plane tomorrow
→ YourUserName i hope you get run over in the pits
alphatauri we love having you in the garage
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User 1 agreed. her hair looked so pretty today and he ruined it
User 2 only for him to then completely forget what he was saying when he realised she was wearing a white shirt? yes! it’s been playing in my head
→ User 3 can’t say i blame him. i too was no better than a man 👀
User 4 but the way he covered her body with his the second he realised to stop the camera focusing on her see-through top
→ User 5 and then gave her one of his shirts because she was walking around in a mclaren top until pierre yanked her into the alphatauri garage
→ User 6 guys, this is bare minimum. him being hot doesn’t make this extra chivalrous
User 7 another angle of that video showed it was an accident. he can be seen saying sorry a billion times and after that, they put a border around the fountain
YourUserName posted a new story
danielricciardo reposted your story
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and others
YourUserName happy 4 year anniversary to my professional car crasher tagged: danielricciardo
7,114 comments
User 1 i knew it! they all called me crazy
danielricciardo delete this. you said you would be a nice. i’m a champion! how many trophies do you have, huh
→ YourUserName depends on how many i steal from the trophy case in our living room (plus, those are replicas)
→ User 2 our?!?!
charles_leclerc but i thought you loved me?
→ YourUserName i do, citrouille. but, daniel and pierre are keeping us apart.
User 3 4 years? this means they were together when he was still at red bull! what did you think about him leaving?
→ YourUserName i'm not allowed to talk about that
landonorris congratulations, mum and dad
→ alex_albon congratulations, mum and dad
→ georgerussell63 congratulations, mum and dad
→ YourUserName i didn’t sign up for this responsibility
→ danielricciardo they’re a package deal, babe. they come with me
maxverstappen1 oh, thank god. It was so hard keeping this to myself in interviews
danielricciardo just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, kellypiquet and others
danielricciardo contrary to popular belief, pierre is not my favourite gasly
6,998 comments
YourUserName aww, mon coeur, you actually used nice photos
→ danielricciardo don’t speak french to me, you know it turns me on
→ maxverstappen1 i miss when you publicly hated each other
pierregasly you take that back!
pierregasly that’s it. you’re off the Christmas card list
francisca.cgomes wonderful, daniel, now he’s sulking
→ YourUserName you get used to it. they may seem cool but all f1 drivers are essentially big crybabies
→ danielricciardo hey!
→ charles_leclerc hey!
→ pierregasly hey!
→ alex_albon hey!
→ landonorris hey!
→ carlossainz55 hey!
→ georgerussell63 true
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Please request if you have any ideas you'd like to see, and I'll do my best to bring them to life <3
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psychesalcove · 2 days
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WE WANNA TALK ABOUT SEX BUT WE'RE NOT ALLOWED
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college au!percy jackson x fem!reader
⚠️: reader has anxiety, percy being too obvious for his own good, shitty writing (im sorry guys 😭), mentions of sex, cursing, emotional cheating (on percys end), not proofread at all, mentions of an anxiety attack, insecure reader
IN WHICH: you and percy have been dating for around a year. however, you feel like he is always choosing annabeth over you, even if he isn't aware of it. tonight, you decided to confront him about it, ending the night not knowing where your relationship stands with him.
requested: yes, by anon
a/n: GUYS IM SO SORRY IM KIKE NOT GOOD AT WRITING ANGST BUT I TRIES 😭😭 JUST MESSAGW ME ABAIN AND ILL REWRITE IT IN A DIFFERENT WAY BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!😔
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you knew this talk had to happen at some point. it was inevitable. there was this unspoken tension between you and percy, and you weren't even sure if he was aware of it. for a while, you thought it was just your anxiety driven brain making you feel the tension—but you soon realized it was there and not made up.
percy and you had been dating for around a year, beggening right before your freshman year of college started. before that, percy had been in a relationship with annabeth. you were on neutral terms with her;you weren't best friends, but you also didn't hate eachother. but lately, that feeling of neutrality with her was slipping away.
you knew percy and her were close, but you didn't understand why they were as close as they were. you knew percy would never cheat, but you figured he didn't understand not being there for his partner.
anytime you wanted to be around him, he would say that annabeth needed him for something. reviewing notes for class, wanting help with decorating her condo, helping her with a new recipe she was doing, anything really.
at first, you didn't mind that much. you knew they weren't sleeping with eachother or anything, but as time went on, going into the last quarter of the school year, you knew that he would go back to annabeth sooner rather than later. his mind was always occupied with her, somehow managing to bring her up in every conversation you have with him.
you sat on the beige couch that you and percy had bought at Ikea last summer, looking out to the balcony area, waiting for percy to arrive. as much as you didn't want to talk to him about this, you knew the longer you put it off the harder the talk would be. you assumed he would be getting back in around 5 minutes, knowing the route he takes in his car to get to the condo from campus.
suddenly the old wooden door creaked open, disturbing the silence that blanketed the room. you sighed lightly, still wondering how to even start a conversation with percy.
percy soon came into vision, dropping his jansport backpack onto the floor before turning to you. "hi, pretty," he hummed. "how was your day?"
you decided to ease into a normal conversation between the two of you before asking the inevitable question that could determine the future of your relationship. "it was fine, english has been kicking my ass recently though, how about you?" you asked, moving around so you were in a more comfortable position.
"it was also fine, but if your having trouble with english, i could ask annabeth—" you cut him off with a sigh, knowing that was your que to steer the conversation in another direction.
"could you sit down percy, please?" you say, making eye contact with him for the first time since he came home. "we really need to talk,"
"uhm.. yeah of course" he says looking around the room quickly before sitting down on the sofa. "if this is about those mint cookies, i did eat them, didn't mean to though, promise." he explains quickly, looking at you with a small smile.
you press your lips into a thin line, knowing how different of a conversation this is going to be than that. "percy, where do you see our relationship going?"
there it is. the idea is out there, in the open, for percy to do anything with.
you watch his eyes widen slightly, looking at you with a questioning look. "what do you mean? i mean, obviously we're going to keep living together, maybe get a better place for next year, we could even make our new kitchen like annabeths–"
"there you go again talking about annabeth!" you said, raising your voice slightly. "i know that the two of you are friends, and i'm fine with that, but not if it's getting in the way of our relationship. almost every conversation you bring her up:annabeth this annabeth that. i know you two are exs, and again, i'm fine with that, but that also means you could have romantiic feelings about her still. i really don't think we should even be doing this if you do, percy."
he sat up straighter at the tone of your voice and what you said to him. "why would i still have feelings for a annabeth? that's why we chose to end our relationship, because neither of us had feelings for eachother!" he exclaimed, attempting to keep a calm voice.
"percy, i really just don't think you're in the mental place to be in a relationship with me, or maybe anyone right now. i don't know what to do—"
percy cut you off, "what do you mean you don't know what to do? i'm the one being told by my girlfriend of a year that she doesn't know if she wants to continue our relationship!" he sat up from the couch and started motioning with his hands. "I'm the one that doesn't know what to do. it's not like i'm going around and having sex with annabeth. you know i wouldn't do that to you!"
"there are other ways of cheating than that percy, and im not saying your cheating on me, I'm just saying that your mind is still on annabeth, which means I don't know if we should be a thing or not." you said. "and honestly, with the reaction your having, i wouldn't be surprised if you were cheating." you also sat up from the couch and moved to stand by him.
"i understand that, but like i said, i'm not going over there to have sex with her or kiss her or anything like that. all im doing is spending time with her, can i not chose who i spend my time with now?" percy spat at you, giving you a look that made you know he was starting to get pissed off.
"that's the problem percy! your spending time with her, which would be okay, if you weren't canceling on me, your girlfriend!" you said, continuing to raise your voice.
he scoffed at you. "name one time that i cancel—"
"last week, when we were supposed to go the cafe to study for an exam together. i was waiting for you at the door when you were grabbing your backpack, and then you come up to me and say that you can't go because annabeth had finished reviewing your notes. and, for some reason, you had to go to hers that moment to get your notes instead of saying that you could later and go to the cafe, with your girlfriend!" you rambled, getting more mad remembering the memory.
you saw a small flash of guilt in percys eyes, but you didn't let him speak. "every single week percy! its the same fucking thing! you cancle last minute to go to annabeth, even dates you've canceled. and i know that your not sleeping with her or anything, but you're still putting her first instead of me. and that hurts. it really hurts." your voice became softer, cracking when you finished speaking.
your eyes filled with tears, and you started blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. "so yeah, percy, that's why i'm wondering what's going to be our relationship in the future. because right now, i'm not seeing one at all."
you shook your head as you saw his mouth open, still wanting to talk and get through to him. "i love you, so, so much. and it hurts, knowing that i'll always be out second to annabeth. if you want to continue our relationship, you're really going to have to change, percy. and i don't know if you're willing to do that for me." your tears starting openly falling down your face, your brain thinking of what it'll be like to not have percy in your life.
you saw percys mouth open, so you quickly looked down, knowing whatever he was going to say will make you go over the edge and into an anxiety attack. "...why didn't you tell me you felt like that?" he asked with a soft tone to his voice. you shook your had again, knowing you didn't fully get through to him.
"if you were feeling like that, you could have told me and i would have stopped," percy explained, opening his arms to hug you.
you quickly stepped back, not wanting to touch him. "you know what percy? i shouldn't have even had to talk to you about it, because it shouldn't have been a problem. i would have talked to you about it sooner, but i knew it was going to go the way this is going." you said as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
"your not understanding what you did wrong, just saying that i should have done something. which i should have, but i was to nervous, i know that you're too good foe me, gods, i get reminded every single day! so i didn't bring it up to you because i knew that i could've lost you by talking about this!" you let out your first sob as you finished, now thinking of how your going to have to move all your stuff out and stay at your friends condo until you can find a new one.
"hey—hey, let's have you calm down first before we talk. i promise I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to," he said, attempting to make eye contact before you looked down again.
"can, can you just leave? just for a while, please? I–I need to think and it's just really hard being around you right now." you said through your sobs, feeling guilty of practically kicking percy out of his own home, even if just for a while.
you didn't hear what he said, but you watched through your blurred vision as he walked away twords the front hall, heard him grab his keys, and then heard the door close behind him. you quickly walked into your shared bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of your queen size bed.
you look over at percys nightstand, seeing a framed picture of the two of you on your 6th month anniversary. then, your eyes quickly go to a polaroid in front of the framed picture. you sobs grew louder as you grabbed the framed picture and threw it out of anger, sending glass shards across the carpeted floor.
the polaroid was of percy and annabeth, sitting at the campfire back at camp half blood, both having matching smiles on their faces.
you could never compete with annabeth, even in the form of a picture.
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sentientcave · 9 hours
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Retirement Party
Chapter Three - Smoke and Whiskey
<< First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco, cannabis), plus-sized reader, female reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me.
~3.2k
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When you go back inside, you wind up wedged between John and Ghost on the bigger couch. Johnny’s stretched out on the smaller one, and Gaz claimed the chair that you’d been sitting in earlier, leaving you with no other option. Neither of them makes any effort to give you more space, even though they could. Ghost’s leg is pressed against yours from thigh to ankle, and John’s pinky finger keeps finding your thigh when he rests his tumbler against his knee. You want to curl up properly, tuck your feet up underneath yourself, but you can't without pressing even closer to at least one of them. At least Ghost isn’t quite as intimidating without his mask on.
After a while, Gaz and Ghost go out for a cigarette. The chair looks inviting, and you’d like to get a little space, but Price’s arm drops around your shoulders casually, pulling you in a little closer to his side. “Relax,” he says against the top of your head. “You’re alright, doll.”
The door opens again. “Soap, we’ve got a spliff, you want?” Gaz asks.
Johnny picks himself off the other couch, grinning. “Aye. An’ then cake?”
“Fuckin’ forgot about cake,” Ghost says. “Hey doll, d’you want some of this? Cap?”
“Who rolled it?” John asks. “Because I’m not smoking one of Gaz’s joints ever again.”
“Oh fuck off, Price, I can roll just fine.”
John looks at you and shakes his head slightly. “He really can’t.”
“I can roll,” you say. “I always do with my friends.”
You can see the calculation running behind John's eyes as he adds new information to what he knows and assumes about you. You want to laugh. You almost do. Most people take one look at you, with your big doe eyes and round face and and sunny disposition and think that you're some innocent little thing. Sure, you tend to live life with your arms open, and that might come across as naive to some, but you're not inexperienced by any means. You're nearly thirty years old, you're by no means a child.
"Let's see, then," he says. "Box on the coffee table has everything."
"Does tha' mean we can smoke inside again?" Soap asks. "It's startin' ta get pure Baltic out here."
John looks at you expectantly. "Up to you, doll."
"It's not my house."
He hums. "You're stayin' a while. Might as well be. It's important that you're comfortable."
You slide to the floor and reach for the box. "Well. You'd better open a window or two. But I don't mind."
Making a fuss over the semantics isn't worth doing. You probably are staying a while. Even if John really won't force you, you'll still need his cooperation to get all your stuff loaded back into the van, and all four of them are likely headed for hangovers.
John tells them to open the windows, and leans forward to watch you break up slightly sticky buds into the grinder. He brushes your hair behind your shoulders for you, and when you tip your head back to look at him, there's something in his eyes that makes your ears warm.
Johnny drops down to the floor on the other side of the table, a crumpled looking joint hanging out of his mouth. You can see what John means about not wanting to smoke it.
"You want a drink, doll?" Gaz asks. "More tea?"
You twist to look at him, hanging over the back of the couch, that handsome face smiling. "Have you got pop? Wouldn't mind a ginger ale."
"Got irn bru too," Soap suggests. "Ye've got some Scot in ye, aye?"
"Yes."
"Didja want more?"
You level an unimpressed look at him across the table. "I should've seen that one coming."
"I'd like to see ye com--"
"That'll do, Soap," John says firmly. "She's not goin' to have sex with you."
"Might feel a bit better if she did," Soap says, shrugging. "Ah'm just sayin'."
"You're not saying anything." Gaz sets an unopened can of ginger ale on the table next to you. "If you're gagging for it, we'll take care of you in a bit."
"And if you don't behave yourself you're not goin' to get anything," John rumbles from behind you. "She's been good. Surprised none of you have been slapped."
"Just the once." Gaz snags the joint from Johnny and sits back in the chair.
Ghost snorts. "What did you do?"
"Surprised her picking her up. My own fault."
You lean back and hold up the neat joint you've been rolling, hooking your arm over John's knee. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes it, holding it up for an inspection. "Nice work, doll," he says warmly. “Got a bit of a wild streak to you, eh?”
The praise makes you glow, despite yourself, and you laugh aloud at the second part, a real laugh, not nervous or bitter. All four of them shift their attention to you at the sound, snapping a tension you hadn’t noticed until you felt it’s absence. It’s important to them that you feel comfortable, and your genuine laughter is the first sign that you’re on your way. They really did think that they’d done you a favour.
Insane. But almost sweet, in a fucked up, unsettling way.
You pluck the joint out of John’s fingers and meet his dark blue eyes evenly, not missing the hunger that sparks into existence. “Got a light?”
John pulls his lighter out of his pocket, a little awkward with you leaning on his other leg, and holds the dancing flame out for you. You have to lean in a little to get to it, so you do, your eyes still locked on his as you inhale, the slight sizzle of paper and weed igniting clear in the otherwise silent room. You can hear the way his breath catches too, taken by surprise yet again. You offer the joint back to him, holding in a lungful of smoke.
“Shite,” Johnny hisses, breaking the heavy silence. “Yer absolutely sure ye dinnae want your cunt licked?”
You blow smoke at him from across the coffee table. “I’m sure.”
It doesn’t take long before drowsy complacency overtakes you. Curling up against John’s leg, your arm still hooked over his leg, you let conversation wash over your awareness, not paying enough attention to pick out one thing or another. John’s hand settles on your head, fingers threading into your dark hair, combing through soft strands idly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, blue eyes half-lidded but still plenty aware, a funny smile twisting the edges of his mouth upwards. He has nice lips under that bristling moustache of his, not as thin as you would have expected. His voice is a pleasant rumble when he speaks to the others,
He takes a sip of whiskey, and you follow the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way the tip of his tongue darting across his lips. It takes a moment for you to realize that he’s watching you study him.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
For the first time since you’ve been there, you don’t feel scared. Just dozy and content, like a cat curled up next to a fireplace. “I’m alright,” you admit. “It’s been a strange day.”
His fingers flex, not quite gripping your hair, just holding you in place with the lightest pressure, encouraging you to keep facing him rather than turning away. “I imagine so.” His hand glides along to your ear, his thumb grazing over the shell, sending shivers down your spine. “It won’t be so strange tomorrow.”
“No more surprises planned?”
John glances up, looking at each of his men in turn, and then back to you. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“We do have cake, though,” Soap says. “Ye want some, bonnie?”
“Yes please.” You only turn to look at Soap for a moment before John is gently coaxing you back, curling his fingers around your jaw. Can he feel the way your heart leaps into your throat, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings? It’s hard to look John in the eye, but harder still to pull yourself away. His touch leaves burning traces behind, and you’re all too aware of your body and the way you respond to him. It’s all too much, too soon and too strange.
He catches your hand when you try to brush his away. “Why don’t you come on back up here, doll?” he asks. “Be more comfortable than the floor, don’t you think?”
“No, I’m happy down here.” You tuck your knees to your chest, looping your arms around your legs, extricating yourself from his sphere of influence just a little. You’re still pressed up against his calf, but you don’t need to go that far, you just need to face forward so you won’t get pinned under that blue stare again.
John has a certain gravity, a magnetism that you can’t help but be drawn in by. It would be all too easy to sink into his arms, but the idea that you’d been given to him still bothers you, like a persistent, sharp little stone in your shoe, ruining what might have been something.
You perk up some when Soap hands you a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. It's not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it tastes incredible, rich dark chocolate and an icing that had so much whiskey in it that your teeth feel funny after a few bites.
"This is really good, Johnny," you tell him. "If the whole military thing doesn't work out, you could consider becoming a baker."
"Thanks, hen. And dinnae think I havena considered it. Gettin' closer to packin' it in awl the time. Just cannae leave Gaz until he's got a good team watchin' his back."
"We've got some good sergeants," Gaz says. "Nitro's got real promise."
"Shivs too. Little devil," Ghost adds. "You need a door smasher though. Those girls are tough as 'ell, but some occasions call for a big boot."
"Aye, ye'd say that, bein' the biggest fuckin' boot the Queen's army has ever seen."
"King now," John points out.
"Oh, fuck if I care which poncy arsed Windsor is sittin' in the big chair."
"Bloody leeches," Ghost agrees.
"I've got Sanderson in mind." Gaz winks at you, like you're in on some secret.
"Gary Sanderson? Is he no' dead?"
"No! Turns out he locked himself in a cryo chamber when the bomb went off. That facility was full of 'em, all kinds of experimental tech. It was finally safe to take a team in and we found him. Nitro started calling him Roach, and it's stuck."
"He's a damn good soldier. Be good for the taskforce," Price agrees. "Would've picked him ten years ago."
"Well, he's had a nice long nap, and he's hopping mad about missing so much. He'll make a good doorsmasher," Gaz says.
"How about that Lucky kid? Nitro’s brother.” Price asks. “He looked pretty promising. Unless his luck ran out.”
Gaz hums, licking frosting off his fork. “He’s a good kid, but his problem is that as soon as Nitro’s around he lets her do all his thinking for him. Splits her focus.”
You sigh, setting your half-finished slice of cake down on the table in front of you, and climb to your feet, wincing at the ache of not moving for so long. You edge between Ghost’s knees and the coffee table and skirt around the edge of the couch wordlessly. No one stops you, and there’s no falter to their conversation despite the eyes that follow you until you disappear upstairs to use the washroom.
As you wash your hands, you stare at your own face in the mirror. You look pretty, even with your eyeliner a little smudged, and your lipstick faded to nothing. The buzz of THC is your system makes you giggle. Pretty enough to kidnap, even.
You think about it for a long moment, and then take your makeup off and braid your hair back so you can wash your face properly, and brush your teeth too. All the weirdness of the day is catching up, and all you want to do is sleep it off. The low buzz of their voices carries up the stairs when you step out into the hallway again, seemingly unbothered by your absence. There's no reason for you to say goodnight-- you don't owe them any kind of civility. But you still hesitate.
Long enough that John appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You alright, doll?" He asks. "Comin' back down?" The stairs creak slightly under his weight as he starts coming up towards you.
"I was thinking-- I'm just tired, is all. It's been a long day."
He stops two steps down, so he's still looking up at you. "I understand. We can talk more in the morning."
"I'm sure there's a lot to discuss."
"If you say so. Already told you most of what I needed to tell."
"Just most?"
He nods, and beckons you closer, a conspiratorial smile on his face. You take one halting step toward him, and then another, until you stand right at the top of the stairs. His big hands catch yours, holding you in place when he moves one step up, taller than you once more.
You stare up at him, and your breathing is turned shallow, your heartbeat rapid and heady. His eyes glitter in the dim light as he leans close, the tip of his nose skimming yours, as if he means to kiss you. Like a deer pinned under the headlights of a rapidly approaching truck, you stand frozen, unsure if you even want to move, or if you welcome the inevitable collision.
He smells like smoke and whiskey when he speaks, his lips so close to yours you can feel the soft brush of breath on your skin. "Forgot to tell you how good you look in my shirt," he purrs. "Been thinkin' to say so all night."
Heat licks across your cheeks, his words waking something dangerous in your core, something that wants his hands on you more than anything else. It’s unfair, what he does to you already, barely more than a stranger, and you want him to be a good man so you can indulge that desire without fear of consequence. It’s been such a long time since someone looked at you the way he looks at you now, an almost indescribable fondness that you haven’t even begun to earn.
“It’s a nice shirt,” you say lamely. “Thank you for lending it to me.” You don’t mention that it smells very pleasantly like him, and how it’s been a bit difficult to keep yourself from sniffing at the flannel all evening.
“You’re welcome to anything I have,” he says, and you know he means it.
“I hope that includes your bed,” you say jokingly, trying (and failing) to diffuse the intensity in his eyes. “Because I think that’s where I’m headed now.”
“Of course it does.” His thumb rubs across your knuckles, the other hand coming up to cradle your cheek. You shake, all nerves, worried that he’ll close the distance and kiss you, but he just taps his forehead against yours instead, eyes smiling. “Off you go, sweet thing. You give us a shout if we get too loud, eh?”
You swallow nervously and nod, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, John.”
"Goodnight, doll.”
You quickly shut yourself into the other room, flicking on the light while you strip down to your panties and wrap the flannel shirt around yourself again, and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a bizarre day, and the room feels strange, too open and too dark, but it still doesn’t take long to fall asleep.
Hours later, you wake at the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again. You sit up before you’re fully alert, dreams shredding apart and solidifying into reality as you blink away sleep.
“Shh, s’just me,” John’s voice comes out of the darkness, slurring slightly. You can’t see anything in the darkness, until he crosses over to the window and opens the curtains, letting in a little light from the waxing moon outside. He turns towards her, his big frame silhouetted against the scant light, humming. “Bloody hell, you’re a pretty little thing.” The soft clink of his belt buckle is far too loud in the quiet room, as is the rustle of his clothes as he strips down to his boxers.
“John, what are you doing?” you ask nervously.
“Coming to bed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “M’too old to sleep on the floor, and Gaz is on the big couch.”
“Oh. I’ll move then. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” You throw back the sheets and swing your legs onto the floor.
“No, no, stay right where you are.” He swoops over and grips your legs gently, lifting them up and back onto the bed. He smells strongly of whiskey and mint toothpaste, and the clinging remnants of cigar smoke. “We can share tonight. Get things set up better tomorrow.”
“John…”
He slides into bed beside you and easily pulls you close, strong arms wrapping around you tightly, rolling so you’re half on top of him, one hand cradling your back and the other on your waist. “Yeah, doll?” he asks.
“John, we can’t— I can’t sleep like this.”
“Shh, just give me a minute to hold my pretty girl.” He nuzzles against the top of your head. “I’m gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. I promise.”
"You're drunk," you say, holding the flimsy excuse out for him, hoping that he'll take it. You don't want to think about him meaning it. It makes going home look all the more unlikely.
"A little," he admits. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping below the soft lace of your panties to dig into soft skin around your hip. He groans. "You're perfect. Sweet and soft, so damn beautiful. I'll make you happy. I'll give you anything you want, if you stay with me."
"John! Stop that, we can talk later, just go to sleep."
"I know this all started wrong, doll. The lads got carried away. But this is right. You feel that too, don't you? We'll have to come up with a better story for our kids, hm? Something proper romantic." He kisses the top of your head, humming happily.
"Our kids?" you squeak. "Jesus, John, you can't be serious."
"Course I am. We can start trying whenever you're ready."
Well, at least now you know he's just as delusional as the rest of them. "You don't even know if I want kids."
"You do," he says confidently. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're drunk," you say firmly. "Go to sleep."
He chuckles. "You didn't say I'm wrong."
You push away and roll over so you don't have to look right at him. Even in the darkness, you're certain that your face betrays more than you'd like. It was none of his business if you wanted kids. You certainly weren't going to have them with him. "Go to sleep," you repeat.
"Yes ma'am," he says, looping his arms around you again, tugging you close to his chest. "Goodnight, doll."
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Thanks for reading!
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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wannaeatramyeon · 19 hours
Text
Goo Kim x Reader: Cycling through the love languages
G/N. Self-indulgent af. Goo has a realisation about you.
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Goo knows for a fact you like him.
Who wouldn't? Who doesn't?
Maybe Gun and Charles Choi actually, and he knows he pisses Kouji and Crystal off something bad. The majority of the crews too. And that sour faced woman from the cafe this morning. There was also the guy who yelled obscenities and flipped him off for driving erratically.
Ah whatever. He casts aside his growing list of enemies with a wave of the wrist and an adjustment of his glasses.
Point is, you like him. You. The only one that matters.
Why you can't admit it to yourself or to him, he can't understand.
...Nevermind the fact that it's only recently that he has admitted to himself that he likes you. After one too many knowing looks from Kouji, and then another too many drinks the other night when Gun remained stone faced and Crystal couldn't stop rolling her eyes as Goo started gushing. Tongue loosening and desires spoken and spilling over into reality.
The realisation wasn't so much a shock to the system, as a comforting hug. Like yes, finally. 
His weird little daydreams, his growing apathy towards fighting and work, or really anything that excludes you. The way you said you liked his suit the other month and he walked with a spring in his step all morning and afternoon and evening and night, and has worn that suit damn nearly every day since.
It all makes sense.
So yes. Fine. He likes you. A lot. 
Sometimes the thought of seeing you makes him feel giddy with excitement. Other times the thought of replacing his first love, good old dependable cash, with you makes him feel sick and he breaks out into a cold sweat.
Here’s the thing though: Goo likes calculated risk. He likes the thrill of the chase.
He-
Likes-
You.
And if you want him to be the one that chases and pursues you then ok. He will. Challenge accepted.
.
.
Let's do this the easy way. Flirting.
It might have been more successful if he wasn't so flirty and playful anyway. Curse him and his charismatic ways.
(Or so he tells himself.)
You don't find him too different from usual, all things considered. Maybe more of a nuisance, buzzing around you like an errant fly.  His smile is greasier, words honey sweet. He leers at you. Waggles his eyebrows like you're in on a joke together.
Dear heavens, you think he also winks at you too. When you frown at that, he just clicks his tongue in annoyance and says there's something in his eye.
You think that's a lie. In fact, you know it is. His eye is completely fine but he is moody and pouty for hours after.
.
.
No, the wink didn't work. The flirting can't really be counted as a success. Nevertheless, his flirting doesn't stop at syrupy words, Goo is touchier too.
He's a touchy person by nature, especially in the right situation and with the right person. Whatever is needed to twist a situation to his advantage. A chin rested on your shoulder, casual arm thrown around your waist. A playful shove, footsie under the table that is more rough and malicious, aiming to hurt, than cute and teasing.
But he's close, closer than ever. Banter muttered into your ear, breath prickling your skin.
Every moment is just a new opportunity to touch you. Your hand, your shoulder, hip, lower back.
You never minded before, you gotten used to his touches surprisingly quickly except now-
The caresses and contact poorly hide a yearning. There's a different intent. It's purposeful and calculated. This doesn't escape your notice.
Goo also doesn't miss the heat that rises to your cheeks. The pretty pink flush when he pulls you near. The hitch of your breath.
Ah. There it is.
Success at last.
.
.
Sadly for him, success doesn't last long. You get used to his wily ways quick enough, you always do.
And it doesn't have the profound effect on you that Goo initially anticipated. He thought that might lead to a confession of sorts from yourself, and even you both skipping into the sunset together.
Neither happens. You stay as cutely tight lipped as ever.
Well if he can't worm his way into your heart with his A game and progress whatever this is you both have going on-
(Which is frankly a little insulting to think about. Goo would like you to know that some people have taken one look, one!, at his hot self and thrown themselves to his feet.)
-Then he can just buy your love.
In Goo's world, in this world, there is nothing that money can't solve. Luckily, Goo has lots of it.
He starts small.
Your reaction when he gave you a bouquet of flowers was rather sweet. He takes note of the way your face softens, how your eyes crinkle when you smile, the shape of your lips as you’re surprised with his gesture.
 If Goo was the sappy sort, he would say that it felt like his heart skipped a beat.
Turns out that he is the sappy sort, and he talked Crystal's ear off about it until she kicked him out of her office and slammed the door in his face.
Next, the jewellery you seemed taken aback by. A few pieces you looked at in distaste despite the size of the gemstones, had the audacity to say they're garish and inconvenient. 
“It’s too much,” you tell him. “Take them back. Return them. Please.”
You left all but one: a simple ring with a plain design.
The affront that Goo felt only lasted for a night at your rejection, dissipating the moment he saw the ring on your finger the next day, shining brightly in the sun. Enough to rival the smile that crept over his face.
.
.
Turns out that the car dealership was a step too far though, a step too ill thought out. The gifts gradually got bigger and grander until one weekend afternoon, you were looking around at brand new vehicles with Goo.
"This is by appointment only," he doesn't hesitate to brag. "It's exclusive. They managed to fit me 'cos I'm kinda a big deal."
You hum in response, your usual go to reply when Goo is feeling particularly full of himself and you’re half listening.
"What do you think of this one, sweetheart?" he asks, steering you towards the most expensive vehicle in the showroom, with more horsepower or torque or whatever it is enthusiasts talk about.
A sleek and shiny sports car that you know for a fact costs more than you will ever make in a year. All chrome and aerodynamic lines, that screams I have money and the biggest dick around here (or tiniest, depending on who you ask and whether you think they're trying to overcompensate).
You take one look at Goo, eyes dropping to his crotch and feel your body flushing. You quickly try to shake those obscene thoughts from your head.
"Um," you clear your throat, which has mysteriously dried up at the last second, "It's nice I guess? Bit much though." You poke your head through the window, admiring the top of the range features and the smell of fresh leather. Goo is nothing if not in your face, and this car certainly fits his vibe.
"Nothing is too much for you!" his voice floats over your shoulder, and you whip your head to stare at him.
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"What do you mean?"
"It's on me, cupcake! For you." He throws his arm around your shoulder, a touch of sincerity under his usual viper grin.
Huh. Not only is this excessive-
"My apartment doesn't have any parking," You state, and Goo starts calculating if he likes you enough to buy you a new apartment also and unfortunately the drop in his bank balance still doesn't outweigh his feelings for you. Whether you will accept is the question but he can work on that.
All thoughts are derailed though with your next words-
"I can't drive. I don't have my licence. And the thought of navigating Seoul traffic," you grimace at the idea, "Nightmare. Not for me. No thanks."
Oh. For fuck's sake. There goes the idea to buy your love with gifts. Most people would say thank you with a smile and go to at least sell the car but of course you would rebuff him. He’s been letting you take advantage of his bank balance, his hard earned money, and of course you’re too good to him to do that.
‘So this entire day was a complete waste of time,’ Goo thinks sourly hours later, meandering the streets side by side with you, spending the rest of your afternoon together. Until-
"Oh my god I love these!" You exclaim, taking a bite out of the hotteok. Fresh off the grill from the street vendor, paid for by your companion. Out of everything he has given, or tried to give you - you're the happiest with the cheap street food. "You're the best!" you tell him between mouthfuls.
Goo doesn't stop his chest from puffing out at that comment. Those words elevating today from being deemed a waste to... fun.
And actually, a little sweet.
.
.
If he can't win you over completely with gifts, then he will show you how irreplaceable he is.
Over the next week, Goo is at your beck and call. His clinginess taken to whole new levels. He's at your home more often than not, by your side almost every moment of the day.
"Don't you have work?" You ask when he's glued to your side one morning.
"You're more important, sweetheart," he says, words off the cuff and surface level.
It's only hours later, when he has reluctantly peeled himself away to finish a task with Gun, he realises that it's not entirely inaccurate.
Free time is spent driving you from A-to-B. Heavens forbid you are forced to use public transport (Goo shudders at this thought) and since you hate Seoul traffic, he might as well keep you company.
He's on his most gentlemanly best behaviour. 
Holding doors open, draping his jacket over you if so much as a gentle breeze is around. Hand-made meals, lunches and extravagant dinners. Even chores.
"Do you live here now?" You ask, padding out to your kitchen. Half asleep, hair in disarray to Goo humming and washing your dishes.
He smiles, sly and snake-like, "Are you asking?"
With a yawn, you burst his bubble, "Nope."
Goddamnit. Not even trying to be the best househusband seems to be working. What will it take for you to confess that you like him? He's getting sick of this song and dance.
He scrubs with a huff at a particular stubborn stain on a pan. Stupid pan and stupid chores and stupid househusbandry.
Ugh. What pisses him off most of all is: he thinks he can get used to this. 
Being around you all the time, taking care of you. Not even you in your ratty old sleepwear, with threadbare knees and oversized t-shirt dims how he feels about you.
.
.
Goo isn't an idiot, despite what Gun might say.
He possesses frightening intelligence even if sometimes his common sense is nowhere to be seen.
You like him, he knows this. He likes you, he also knows this. 
Then why on earth can't he bring himself to tell you? Is it that expressing it is a vulnerability he's not used to having on display? That despite everything, speaking it into existence means that he's offering you himself and there is always a chance of rejection?
If Goo was more mentally balanced and less self absorbed, maybe he would dwell on these doubts and feelings. Be introspective for the first time ever. 
He is not.
Instead he feels overwhelming indignation that it has come to this, that nothing has had the desired effect, and most importantly it's all your fault.
He puts all his energy into storming his way over to your home, wanting everything and everyone around him to be also darkened by his mood.  Makes sure his displeasure is felt through the way he stomps, how he slams his car door, how he blasts through traffic lights. Buzzing himself into your apartment building with vehemence, pounding on your front door until he hears your exasperation from somewhere inside.
"Hold on Goo! What the hell!"
The door is yanked open. For a brief moment Goo sees your annoyed expression, before he too is yanked inside.
"What is your problem?" Each word is punctuated with a jab in his chest.
Goo refrains from devolving into a tantrum. Realises that he already seems unhinged enough and doesn't want this conversation to get any worse. 
Taking a deep breath, he grabs hold of that jabby finger (noting with amusement that other people's fingers he has broken for much less), adorned with a familiar ring, pulls your hand into his and strokes over your knuckles once, twice, three times.
He is absolutely not buying time. But really, why has it come to this: sincerity and honesty. How unseemly. This is so not him that even the idea of it sends shivers down his spine.
Whatever. With one last breath he forces out any trepidation and regains his usual composure. The one that is all confidence and captivating and can talk circles around anyone anyday.
"Y/N,” he purrs, "I like you and you like me."
You open your mouth to say something but he presses on. "It's obvious. I'm not stupid.”  Goo points to his glasses, “I have eyes. I can see how you are around me, cupcake. And it's painfully obvious that I like you too." He allows himself an irritable sigh at this.
"Honestly I'm the one that gets courted. I'm a catch. People chase after me," he mutters to himself. "And yet look at me now."  Huffing at himself for his behaviour, he turns back to you. "Why don’t we see how this-" signalling between you and him, "-goes, hmm? 
"Wait," you take a step back from his presumptiveness.
Which isn't wrong, per se. In fact, he is completely spot on. Goo is an objectively attractive guy, you would be blind not to realise it (or have questionable taste). Sure his personality offsets his looks, because good god it can be grating as hell, but even with all his flaws he has wormed himself into your heart and into your life too.
You flitter somewhere between friends and more. Friends, with this odd, prickly, scheming creature is a miracle in itself. You’re not sure why this red flag shines green with you but he does. You don't know how you balance each other but you do. You don't know how it works but it does. 
Moving this to something more though, it scares you. Especially if he's as blasé and unserious about this as he is with most things in his life that don't revolve around money.
"Goo..." You try to phrase this delicately. "Your relationships or encounters or whatever you want to call them don't end well." He gasps at your words. "I don't want to start up some casual whatever with you for you to then change your mind. It could really mess things up between us."
"Casual?" He scoffs, dismissing your concerns with a wave of his hand,  "I've been 100% from the start. You should know I'm all in, sweetheart."
Your breath hitches. This wasn't what you meant. This wasn't what you were asking but he answers your doubts anyway.
"I'm all in on this," he repeats, crossing his heart mockingly though there is no disguising the earnestness in his words; how his actions over the last weeks and months have shown you that he's serious.
Still. You want to double-check.
"...Are you sure?"
"Y/N. Sweetheart." he places your own hand over his heart, "I've never been more sure of anything."
His glasses catch the light. Flashing mischievously and wickedly like it always does yet you can't see any ill intent. There's no hesitancy in his conviction.
"We fit, don't we?" Goo smiles, sensing your apprehension wavering and crumbling.
You can't deny that you do.
"Yes," is your simple reply. You peer at him from below your lashes and find him looking at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.
Still pressed against his heart, Goo moves your hand up to his lips. A playful grin that is full of promises spreads across his face. His eyes don’t leave yours as he seals it all, marks it official, with a kiss.
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vivwritesfics · 23 hours
Text
Mafia!Bob AU
Bob Floyd, arms dealer for The Daggers, and, most importantly, sweet loving boyfriend
Short mafia Bob blurb
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As Bob sat at her vanity, he pulled his glasses from his face. It was his least favourite part of his morning, swapping his wire rimmed glasses for his glasses.
She watched from their bed, looking pretty in his clothes, as he struggled. "Bobby," she said as she climbed from beneath the comforter. She walked over and sat herself on his lap, completely blocking his view of the mirror as she helped him to put in his contact lenses.
As he did, Bob held onto her hips, squeezing slightly. "There," she said as soon as she had popped the second one in. "Now everybody can see your pretty eyes."
Robert Floyd hated wearing his contact lenses. He loved his glasses, but they made him look so nerdy. And you can't look nerdy when you work for Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell. Not when you're the arms dealer for The Daggers.
"I shouldn't be home too late tonight, Bun," he said and leaned forward to kiss her noise. "Are you doing anything nice today?"
She shrugged and laid her head on his shoulder. "Think Mickey wants to come to the store with me?" She asked as she blinked up at him.
"I think Mickey has no choice," he said and kissed the top of her head. He would have given anything to spend the day with her, would have given anything to swap places with Mickey. But he couldn't, not unless he wanted to face Mav's wrath (and he'd never expose her to that).
Bob pulled his wallet from his pocket and placed it in her hands. "No spending limit for you, my baby," he said and pulled her in her a kiss. "Get anything you'd like."
He hated leaving her, but worked called. Bob stood up, still holding her as he walked over to the bed and dropped her on it. "I'll miss you, bunny," he whispered and kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled at his hair, desperate to keep him there with her. "Stay," she whispered against his lips.
Bob let out a groan "I'm sorry, bun," he said and pressed his forehead against her own.
Reluctantly, she let him go. She watched as Bob walked out of the bedroom, leaving her there wearing a pout.
It had become a daily ritual. Her, reluctant to let him go, and Bob, reluctant to leave her.
She went shopping, taking Mickey (Bob's best friend and the man who was charged with protecting her while Bob worked) from shop to shop.
Bob couldn't help but think about her as he worked. As he took inventory, as he sorted orders for Ice Man, he was thinking of nothing but her.
But then Jake and Bradley came knocking on his office door. They didn't wait for him to say anything before they walked in and threw their guns on his desk. "We want an upgrade," said Jake.
Bob picked up the gun. "Guys, how do you think this works?" He couldn't stop himself from asking. "Do you think you can upgrade your guns like this is Grand Theft Auto?"
"No," Bradley said immediately. "We just want something better."
Bob let out a sigh as he checked through his books. "Fine, I'll see what I can do."
The old Bob wouldn't have so easily given them what they wanted. The old Bob would have made them stick with their old guns until they damaged them beyond repair. But he'd gone soft, and it was all because of her.
At the end of the day, Bob couldn't wait to get back to her. He locked up the gun store, checked over his books one last time, and made his way back to her.
"Bunny!" Bob called the moment he walked into their lavish apartment. A fond smile crossed his face at the sight of the shopping bags by the door.
He pushed on, past the living room and straight into the bathroom. This part of his day had also become a ritual, but a comforting one at that.
After a day of dealing weapons and selling them in the cities, Bob's favourite part of his day was when he got to wash the grime away and take out his goddamn contacts.
And then it was a careful walk to their bedroom to put his wire framed glasses on.
When he walked into the bedroom, she was just a pretty blob on the bed. Bob placed his glasses on his face and looked down at her, dressed in pretty lingerie that Bob had never seen before.
Pretty lingerie that she'd with his money. "Holy shit, Bunny," he said as he looked down at her. But there with little else he had to say before he was shedding off his suit and climbing on top of her.
@nurse-sainz this is for youuuuuu
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theosb0rnway · 3 hours
Text
Just finished the Bad Batch finale and HOLY SHIT IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD
SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT
THEY ALL LIVED!!! HOLY SHIT THEY ALL LIVED I CAN'T BELIEVE IT--
So um.... yeah Tech's still not dead to me, CX-2 is alive, everything is fine, we'll see him soon, it's fine-
Crosshair GOT HIS HAND CUT OFFFF- Not the biggest Crosshair fan but I still feel so bad.... BYT AT LEAST HE MADE THE SHOT AND SAVED OMEGA AND HE GETS A HAPPY ENDING NOW
Speaking of happy endings, THEY ALL GET TO GROW OLD!!!! I'M SO FUCKING HAPPY FOR THAT, I'M SO GRATEFUL THEY GET TO LIVE THAT PEACEFUL LIFE THEY WANTED, EVEN IF WE DIDN’T GET TO SEE IT
GONKY'S ALIVE AND WELL, THANK THE FORCE
Emerie helped the kids escape I'm so glad they all made it too AND THE KIDS LOOKED SO CUTE ON PABU WITH MOX, DEKE, AND STAK
ECHO'S STILL ALIVE AND HELPING THE CLONES FIGHT, HELL YEAH
They rescued the clones!!!! I'm SO FUCKING HAPPY they did
HEMLOCK AND RAMPART ARE FUCKING DEAD, LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO
Rampart was a double-crossing son of a bitch and he got what he deserved. Rest in peace, Nala Se. You may not have always been on the right side, but you died doing the right thing.
Did I mention that I don't think Tech is dead?
The CXs were SO COOL I wish we got to see more of them!!!
DID I MENTION THAT I DON'T THINK TECH IS DEAD?!? (I'm not losing hope guys, I'm not-)
The Zillo beast absolutely RIPPING UP TANTISS was fucking FANTASTIC and I love it and it was VERY VERY MUCH DESERVED
Baryn is me, I need loud destructive noises to fall asleep LOL (this is why I can only fall asleep to FNAF songs in my ears-)
Seeing grown up Omega made me cry, and I love that older Hunter looks like pretty much every older Hunter fanart ever drawn-
Wish we could have seen older Wrecker and Crosshair, and GIVE ME SCENES OF BOTH OF THEM HEALING, PLEASE- (Crosshair did not eat on screen the ENTIRE SEASON I don't like that at ALL.)
Overall, I thought the finale was a solid 9 1/2 out of 10, the only thing that could have made it better was a CX-2 is Tech reveal, but... I mean I got everything else, so I'm not entirely disappointed.
I'm still staying VERY MUCH a part of this fandom, sorry not sorry to my followers who came for the Ninja Turtles and got Star Wars copy-paste men instead-
As I mentioned, I do have a Bad Batch project coming out soon, and I guess I could call it a fix-it now... but yeah, I'm not done with Star Wars and at this point in my life, I really don't think I'm leaving this fandom any time soon. Yes, it has some issues, as all fandoms do, but it's where I fit best at the moment. I'll still be posting other stuff, but Star Wars and the Scream franchise are my main fandoms for now.
Thank you to the cast and crew of this WONDERFUL show, you did it again, Star Wars. (*puts TBB in my top 3 TV shows of all time*)
And thanks to all my friends here on Tumblr who helped me get into this show and traded theories and so much more! (Also special thanks to @atyourdinosaurs for all of your love, theories, and ideas [and for inspiring my new project], and to @casp1an-sea and @thecoffeelorian for being two amazing friends I made from this fandom!)
We had a great run, guys. It's a honor to love this show and to be here for its final moments. Here's to more Star Wars and to more Bad Batch content in the future.
-Oz
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mai-irumi · 2 days
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Chapter 2 appreciation post
I swear I'm not planning on doing this with all chapters (maybe I will) bit I can't help it if EVERYTHING IS THAT GOOD
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I just love how here we can see that Iruma, even being the Pusillanimous boy that he is, he's totally conscient of the bizarre situation he is in
Yet can't dare to say no
I mean, I bet this is the most loved he's ever been, and it's not good love, as much as I love Sullivan for giving all those opportunities, he is not a good parent, he only got Iruma out of a whim and didn't really care that much for hoe he felt, at least at the early episodes.
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Once again, Asmodeus blinding us all with his pretty face and already obsessive behavior to Iruma, but who would be Asmodeus without obsession?
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THEY HAD NO RIGHT TO MAKE HIM LOOK THIS FINE WHILE BEING MAD
Like GODS, now I get y'all Naberius' fans, the anime did not do any justice TO THIS
I wouldn't mind being scolded by him (Lie, I'd burst into tears of pure fear)
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Okay, but is it me or the snake is cute?
Like look at those googly eyes that look like they may just pop out of the skull at any moment, makes me wanna squish it
Also we can see here very clearly that Asmodeus type of body is pear shaped 🍐, in case anyone had curiosity
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Sweethearts, if you two only knew you wanted the same, you wouldn't have gone through all of that.
Like let's be honest both of you wanted Iruma out of the school, easy job
I LOOOVE how Iruma resembles Sullivan even without being related to him, like that's so cute, family soulmates maybe?
Now, I don't remember well, but I do know that in the present on the manga has already been a year, but I do think Kalego is still his familiar, correct me if I'm wrong
ALSO I was thinking about, and all of this boys are 14, like dude, I'm older than them (was younger when I first saw the series, I suddenly feel old 😭) THERE'S NO REASON TO MAKE THEM GO THROUGH ALL OF THAT
Have you guys ever seen those jobs where they ask for young people with plus 10 years of experience? They want Iruma, that's what they've been looking for, too sad he's in hell
<-_->
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Note
So you're ageist...
You won't be calling me ageist when I steal old man Xehanort's ex husband
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memorys-skyscraper · 2 days
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man im watching clips of y8 with the eng dub and its uh. i mean, kasuga and chitose sound alright? robbie daymond makes a decent zhao too (and can sing, damn), but the rest...............
#rambles#yakuza liveblogging#i think some VAs were straight up miscast#like kiryu and adachi sound WAY too young#and them + nanba + yamai all sound like theyre going for a voice thats way lower than their normal range#so it sounds very forced/unnatural- they shouldve just cast people with deeper voices if thats what they wanted#but others seem like a case of poor direction#like tomi sounds too...... peppy? i guess?#his character is very reserved/introverted so in jp he speaks with a pretty flat/monotonous affect most of the time#but in the dub he talks like a pretty normal somewhat outgoing dude so you lose that dimension of his character#same with joongi and seonhee- in jp they speak with a particular precision/sophistication#theyre leaders of a huge organization and as such are very careful with their words and you can hear that in their tone#but that element is completely missing from the eng dub#how kiryu's eng voice has been handled in particular is baffling- i know they recast him after 7 with some youtuber#which like. not knocking youtubers as a whole but the dude simply does not fit the part#and i looked up the VA they'd used for kiryu previously and he's fine? like nobody can ever be takaya kuroda but the old VA fit way better#plus hes like. actually close to kiryu's age (58) vs the new guy who's 32. and of course VAs can play characters of a variety of ages#but when the main problem with the new voice is that he sounds too young and you had a guy who sounds better and is the right age....#why recast him??? i dont get it. even if the old VA was no longer an option for some reason *surely* there was a better fit out there
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scared shitless of this one professor and YES he reminds me of a small victorian child who is going outside for the first time and is very nervous and loving. two things can be true
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s0fter-sin · 1 year
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the new ep really reminded me of my disappointment of how completely chill hawks is with endeavour abusing his family. him discovering his personal hero was abusive in the exact same way his father was should be gut wrenching, a betrayal but he doesn’t react to it in anyway other than “i’m sure things are different now”. if they made him destroyed and angry and carried that through the villain hunt arc, it would just bolster the tension and support the distrust society has for heroes and the need to put that aside anyway in the face of a greater enemy
#apart from his reaction with nagent it feels like we havnt seen hawks’ actual personality#or him having any real emotional reaction to anything#oh yeah my mum betrayed me to villains ans it nearly got me killed but bc the government entity that bought me at 7 yrs old told me#to forget my old life it doesnt bother me#yeah the guy ive looked up to my entire life that was literally the only bright point in my incredibly abusive childhood turned out to also#be extremely abusive towards his family up to LAST YEAR but i think hes different now so it doesnt bother me#i get that having a subplot of him being pissed at endeavour and having to be near him anyway couldve made the arc a but messy#especially with how badly paced it is#but imagine if it was actually spread out nicely#hawks has the basis of an interesting character but so much of him is fanon interpretation#his attitude with the commission is so lacklustre#hes totally fine with everything theyve done to him and doesnt see anything wrong with it or them#it takes a nuanced story of a minor groomed by the government to be a killer and turns him into a bootlicker#even his stuff with twice which shouldve knocked him on his ass doesnt hit bc he just brushes passed his realisation#the entire endeavour redemption arc annoys me bc he gets it way too easily and doesnt face consequences#he still has hawks looking at him like the sun shines out his ass#he foisters his responsibility to take down dabi the monster he created onto his youngest child bc its too hard for him#but thats besides the point#hawks has so much potential but like pretty much everyone its just not explored enough#go beyond plus ultra#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#bnha#hawks#endeavour#enji todoroki
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biteapple · 5 months
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FINALLY got groceries for the first time in awhile today and like half the stuff i got was cleaning supplies. thank god. ive been using hand sanitizer from the food bank to clean its been awful. i just wiped my kitchen counters down big time and i plan on spending tomorrow tiding up and doing some deep cleaning. ive been needing it
also i got stuff to make chocolate chip cookies (my favorite)(simple but loving) and i got some nice ramen i've been wanting to try (premium shin gold with chicken broth) .. im excited
#next time i wanna try the mushroom & tofu one they have ... it's not crazy expensive but $8 for 4pack of ramen is pretty expensive to me#i also hit up the nice pet store thats right next to the groceries store before going in for groceries and got special pet messes cleaner#and its honestly REALLY nice this shit is great. im so happy ive been looking for a really good pet messes cleaner#outside of my apartment is like ?? oil stains on the concrete from previous tenants#(my neighbor told me people used to throw their trash outside and let it sit there for awhile so it seeped out and got into the 'crete)#and online i heard of this trick of taking dish soap and soaking it on there and then using clay cat litter to pull it up and out#so i bought a really cheap bag of cat litter on this trip and im gonna try it#in junction with some old dish soap that guy who gave me a buncha stuff from his storage gave me for some reason#i didnt wanna use that dish soap for like actual dishes or my hands etc cause it feels gross and its old & opened and half used#and liquid soap cant self-sanitize so ...#and the other cleaning stuff he gave me i had to trash cause some of it was REALLY gross but the dish soap LOOKS normal#so im gonna use it all up on this just to try. better than tossing it out. not sanitary enough for my plates but fine for the concrete#if it doesnt work i might go out and get professional concrete degreaser from home depot if it isnt too expensive#or i'll TRY and get maintenance to take care of it lol. im not sure they'll bite for cleaning that up tho#i just hope i dont get a ''WHAT ARE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS DOING!?'' kinda thing from maintenance for putting that on there
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cupofmilkyway · 3 months
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Laios' Art
Haven't seen any posts talking about this and it's one if not my favorite Laios detail so I HAD to share|
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I noticed when I was reading through the manga that this drawing was silly for more reasons that the obvious, like how the chimera body looks fine but then the human Falin is all stick arms and goofy expressions.
It's so easy to chalk it up to Laios just not being great at drawing, cause we have seen him draw himself in a previous chapter (the one with the living paintings) and it was a very simplified shape too.
BUT THEN ON THE SAME CHAPTER A BIT LATER-
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HE GOES AND DRAWS THIS GORGEOUS CERBERUS(?) LIKE HUH?? SIR?
And near the end of the manga they show us his (probably pretty old but) OC monster and it looks cool too!!!
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So he IS a good artist!! He just. Does Not Care about humans. So he can't draw them. Which is SO funny because, same, for a good while when I was young I didn't have any clue how people worked so I drew my humans with paws and like, snout looking noses.
Guy who's autism won't let him draw anything that isn't related to his special interest trying to draw it regardless
Laios my beloved keep drawing your quirked up creatures like you're supposed to <3
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luveline · 3 months
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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 
“I wanna see Max.” 
“She has to be here somewhere.” 
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 
Steve frowns at you worriedly. 
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 
“Is it awful?” you ask. 
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 
“Dustin. He’s outside.” 
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?” 
“Like you like him.” 
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 
“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 
“He was touching you a lot.” 
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 
Oh, boy, you think. 
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 
“Steve.” 
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 
“What?” he asks. 
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 
“Are you okay?” 
“What?” 
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 
“I sounded weird?” 
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 
“You were in the way of the light.” 
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 
“It’s good.” 
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 
“You okay?” he whispers. 
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.” 
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 
“I thought…” And of course he did. 
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 
“Yeah.” 
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 
“I like you too!” he says loudly. 
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 
“You okay?” he asks tightly. 
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 
You nod vehemently. 
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.” 
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 
“You can be my parasol.” 
“Your what?” 
“It’s a sun umbrella.” 
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 
“That’s perfect.” 
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 
“No… I’m thinking.” 
“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 
“It’s a question.” 
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke. 
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
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tempe-brennans · 11 months
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sometimes u just tell ur ocd to shut up and it does
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mickyschumacher · 5 months
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after seeing you with play with some young fans you and charles meet on the streets of monaco, charles can't get his mind off having his own. or in which, charles has got a case of the baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, fluff, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want babies), breeding kink (obvi), charles meeting the bare minimum requirement to be a good human (lmao), slight lactation kink, mutual orgasms, handjob, pussy rubbing(?), reader is sensitive as shit, google translated french (my bad to the french speakers), a questionable perversion of having children that always comes with this context, also questionable whether this qualifies as baby fever but yeh
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: wrote this one when i first started if you can't tell by the mention of pedro and tlou! my absence explained in another post! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Charles loved his fans, especially Tifosi. After you, his family and friends, they were the most important people in his lives and constantly motivated him. Most of them were kind and sweet to him and loved and cherished you more than they loved him.
That's why whenever fans asked for photos with you, the both of you or autographs, Charles always accepted. He rarely refused them unless the fans gave off a certain vibe that rubbed him the wrong way; crazed fans or fans who liked you a little bit too much for his liking.
His favourite fans normally, however, were children. It was definitely pressurising to have that many children look up to him but Charles found it rewarding. They were so young and full of dreams that he could help fulfil. They always looked at him wide-eyed with their jaws open as if they had just seen an angel walk by, similarly to how Charles reacted when he had first seen you in the streets of Monaco.
Today was no exception. It was currently the mid-season break and you two were roaming the partially empty streets after having breakfast out, relishing in the privacy of Monaco. Halfway through your walk, you and Charles had bumped into some small fans, literally.
A set of 3-year old twin sisters and a boy who only seemed a year or two older had run to Charles and you yelling 'Charles!' and 'It's Ferrari!'.
Charles instantly was smiling at them, crouching down to talk to them and entertain all their bombarding questions that flew one after the other.
"Is the car really that fast?"
"Can I go in the car?!"
"I hope you win!"
You chuckled softly as Charles answered them with ease. You looked at the parents who also seemed to be equally as excited as their children. "Do you want me to take a photo for you guys?" You inquired softly.
The parents looked at you with wide eyes. "Can you? If it's no bother!" The father fretted, sharing a slightly alarmed expression with his wife.
You shook your head and smiled. "It's not a problem." They held out their phone and you took it into your hands, opening the camera. You hummed as you looked at the group. "Let's do three photos. One with the three angels, one with the parents and one family one?" You asked.
The parents were about to nod when the kids suddenly refused. "Four! We want one with a pretty girl!" One of the sisters yelled out, pointing at you.
Your mouth fell open while your body flushed with slight embarrassment. Charles grinned at you, agreeing with the children profusely. You gave a playful sigh and nodded. The children and parents began to poise for the camera several times and left the last one for you to take a selfie with them.
The parents turned to Charles, inviting him into a conversation as they apologised for the kids running to him all of a sudden.
You could hear Charles say it was fine when you felt a tug at the bottom your dress. You crouched down to the children who now crowded you.
The boy looked at you wide-eyed while the two girls poked your arm and asked "Are you a princess?"
You smiled softly. "I am!" You implored, "How did you know?" You asked in a hushed tone.
The children giggled. "Princesses are always pretty, that's why!" The boy said with red cheeks.
You hummed, pondering over the statement. You brought your hand out to pat the girls' heads and pinch the little boy's chubby cheeks. "That must mean all of you are also princesses and princes, hmm?"
The children cheered in agreement, giggling to themselves before discussing who was the best prince or princesses out of them all.
"I'm the best prince!" One sister said, putting her hands on her hips in determination. Her older brother looked at her almost offended. "How can that be? I'm the best. I'm older."
The other sister looked at her siblings dumbfounded. "Why can't we all be the best?" She sighed.
You grinned at her answer. "You're right! You are all the best. Equally. You know why?" You asked.
Three pair of big eyes looked at you with curiosity swirling within them as they shook their small heads 'no'.
You brought their hands together and held them in your palm. "Because you're siblings. You're family. That's the best."
The kids stared at you blankly, probably trying digest your words as much as they could at that age. The previous sister smiled widely, letting out a deafening yell, running to her mother. "Did you hear that, maman? We're all the best!" She screamed with joy.
You stood from the ground slowly, grinning at all the kids. "I did. We all heard that, ma cherié. It's true!" The mother chorused, giving you a thankful smile.
You smiled in response, shaking your head as if it was nothing. The parents and kids began to say goodbye to you and Charles, although the latter did so rather reluctantly as you walked over to your boyfriend.
You raised a brow at the dazed expression on Charles' face. "Cha? Mon amour, what's going on in that head of yours?" You hooked your arm with his, resting your head on his shoulder.
Charles blinked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about those kids. Cute, right?" He breathed out, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
You smiled. "Very," You agreed as the two of you began to walk to Charles' car.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Arriving home, the two of you decided to lounge in your living room, not bothered to do anything else for the day. You had managed to put on the newest episode of 'The Last of Us', eager to find out what was happening next.
You and Charles laid on the couch; your head resting on his chest while he cuddled you from behind. You were intently watching Pedro Pascal after being besieged with edit after edit of him on TikTok. Charles on the other hand wasn't focusing at all.
All he could think about what those kids you and him had met earlier that morning. Specifically, you conversing with them. You hadn't realised since you were so caught up with them, but at one point him and the parents had stopped talking and tuned into your conversation with the kids.
Charles had talked to you about kids before. You both wanted them and although Charles always talked about having three kids specifically, just like him and his brothers, he would leave it up to whatever you wanted because at the end of the day, it was you giving birth, not him. He would prefer to have children when he was slightly a bit more older, you both had more control over his life, and obviously with at least one championship under his belt.
But after today, Charles was prepared to throw that plan away. As lewd as it was, the idea of you getting you pregnant and having a family not only touched his heart, but immorally touched his cock.
Knowing that he would have to ensure that his cum was entirely within you, stuffed into your cervix, and not letting a single drop come out made him feel feral. To make matters worse, you would look like a goddess when pregnant because hell, you were so beautiful now. Round and full with his child because he made sure to fuck you till you were overflowing with his cum. Or when your breasts became heavy and sensitive to his touch, leaking sporadically, giving him the opportunity to clean you up with his mouth.
God, he was an animal. The worst.
"Charles, what are you doing?" Your voice erupted into the air, breaking him out of his deep train of thought.
Charles blinked at your question in confusion before he looked down, seeing his hand traversing under your dress and up your inner thigh. He looked over to your amused eyes peering at him.
"Sorry," He let out with a sigh, rubbing the warm flesh of your thigh softly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about children."
You raised a brow, not seeing the correlation to Charles' wondering hand. "Children?" You iterated, running a hand through his hair.
Charles shut his eyes at your actions, feeling at ease. "Those kids today... make me want our own children. Now. I want to have children now."
Charles peeked his eyes open, looking at your astounded expression with a bit of fear. "What about our plans? What was it? Thirty-three, a championship, lives under control, and then children?" You queried. "I-I'm not mad or anything, Cha. Just curious. Why the change of heart all of sudden?
You had now turned to face Charles, knees on either side of him, straddling his lap as you became fully attentive to him.
Charles played with the tresses of your hair that had fallen past your face before tucking them gently behind your ear. "You would just make such a good mother, mon ange. You're so sweet and kind. You now how to talk to them. God, pregnancy would look so good on you. I can't stop thinking about you pregnant," Charles let out a small moan a thought. "You all round with our child, hormonal, sensitive at my touch."
Charles' fingers brushed over your neck, making you shudder involuntarily. You melted at his words. Charles thought a great deal of you. You weren't opposed to the idea either, in fact all of his words were making you hornier by the minute.
"You know what?" You queried, "I also want to have children. You would make an amazing father, Cha. I know you would," You softly said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.
Charles pulled away, boring his gaze into you. "Yeah?" He whispered, eyes soft and full of lust and love.
"Yeah," You repeated. "A father of all three," You teased, giving him a small knowing smile.
Charles' eyes darkened slightly at your words. His hands rested on your hips, his half-hard on in his pants turned harder, pressing into your clothed pussy. "Mon amour," He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your body stand straight. "Should I fuck a baby into you?" He pulled his face back, waiting for your answer.
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, relishing in his words. "If you're going to fuck a baby in me, Charles, you better do it right the first time."
Charles groaned, grinning at your words. Staring at you with a fiery gaze, he quickly brought you down into a hungry kiss. His grip on your hips tightened while your hands became entangled in his hair. Another groan fell against your lips when you tugged at his locks.
Your heart slammed against your chest, beating loudly in your ears. Your skin was heated with Charles' touch ravaging all over you; grazing your arms, squeezing your ass only for you to press further into him. Your stomach surged with desire, feeling his clothed cock grind into you. "Fuck," Your swollen lips uttered out, high with an intoxicating buzz circulating your veins.
"Charles, I need–" You began only to be cut off by your own whimper as Charles bucked his hips up into you, setting a pace of stimulation with the tent of his pants and the gritty material of his shorts.
Charles smiled at the sight of your head thrown back and your back arching. "What do you need, ma cherié? Hmm? Tell me and I'll give it to you, my love," He sighed out, feeling his cock ache in its restraints.
"Fuck, j'ai besoin de ta bite, Charles," You murmured, feeling the temperature of your body rise with every passing second. Fuck, I need your cock, Charles.
Charles grinned at your use of French so early on. Normally when you were nearing your climax, you would lose yourself to all the French you knew. "As you wish, princesse," He stated. "Let's get this off, hmm?" He began to slid down the straps of your dress, pressing warm kisses on your shoulder. The sight of your bare breasts made him sigh in content, licking a strip from the base of your neck and down the valley of your breasts.
You felt a shiver crawl up your spine, feeling Charles' hands wander down your back while he pushed the fabric past your ass, hooking his fingers under your the waistband of your panties. You lifted your body up, aiding him in getting rid of your dress and underwear.
You settled back down on Charles' lap, pushing your wet core against his clothed cock. Charles nipped at your neck, dazed at the feeling of your pussy on him. Your hands reached out, rushing to get those shorts and shirt off of him. Pulling his shirt of him, you placed a trail of kisses down his chest. You could feel his lower stomach tense as you neared his waistband. With a grin, impatiently, you took off his shorts and the boxers underneath.
Your stomach churned and pussy throbbed at Charles' red, aching cock springing up, begging to be touched. You flickered your sultry gaze to your boyfriend, reaching over to put your fingers in his mouth.
Charles maintained eye-contact, lubing your fingers generously with his spit before he felt a shudder rip through him when you teasingly pushed your pussy to graze the angry tip of his cock.
"Vous taquinez," Charles uttered out almost with a whine after you removed your fingers. You tease.
"Don't be too sad, mon amour," You breathed out, trailing your wet fingers over his v-line before wrapping them around his cock. Charles sucked in a sharp breath as your hand began move up and down his shaft, mixing his spit and his pre-cum together, giving him a new, unique shine of his own.
"You wanted to see me pregnant, right? Full of your cum. So pregnant that everyone will know in a few months that you fucked me that good," You started, eyes trained on him while you pumped his cock with a tantalising grip. "We need a lot of your cum today. I'm just getting you prepared," You purred.
Charles let out a series of high moans, letting your words wash all over him and mix with his euphoria. His fingers reached out to your wet folds, stroking your heated slip with need. You trembled at his touch, bucking your hip against his fingers, increasing the pace of your hand on his cock.
Both of you moaned loudly while you jerked each other off, breathy sounds bouncing off the walls of your apartment. "Merde," Charles swore, pressing his head further into the couch, hips sensitively bucking into your hand as you brushed the slit of his cock.
He pushed himself, refusing to slack at your pleasure. He rubbed your pussy, groaning at the wet, glistening folds that were coating his fingers. You moaned, feeling a familiar buzzing pool in your stomach. "I need to," Charles panted out, covering your hand with his to stop you, "I need to..." He trailed off once again, pulling you closer to him.
Charles could barely think straight. He didn't know what he was saying or what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to feel your pussy against his cock.
A guttural whimper escaped your mouth when Charles rubbed his cock against your folds. God, the both of you could get off just like this. He sighed out, eyes clouded with pleasure while he bathed in the warmth of your pussy. He could feel you jerk time to time against him, sensitive from nearing your climax.
You were was a sight to behold. You couldn't control your hips or yourself. You were just so receptive, automatically rubbing your pussy and clit up and down the head of cock. Your head falling back, supported by air while your back arched with lust. Sweat clung to your warmed body and your dry hair was now coated in a light sheen of grease. Face contorted with pleasure and flushed with heat.
"I'm gonna cum, fuck," Charles hissed out, partially angry that he already was about to climax but how could he not at such a view and feeling?
You blinked through your pleasure, remembering how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. You pushed your hips to him, hovering over his cock and sliding down onto him. You whimpered, feeling full with his throbbing cock in you.
Charles groaned, feeling your warm walls clench around him as you began to move your hips up and down. He watched your breasts bounce, making him flicker to that thought of them being full with milk once he got you pregnant. He would be selfish and have a taste of them himself.
Your pussy was a siphon, drawing and pulling his cock even further into you. Charles placed his hands on your hips, pushing you down on his cock to ensure he was balls-deep within you, fully sheathed. The breathy air was now replaced with both of your lewd moans and the sound of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.
"Merde, merde," Charles began to chant, increasing the pace of his hips snapping and rutting into your folds. Your hands fell to his own hands, tightening around them as pleasure bubbled at the pits of your stomach.
"Fuck, Charles. Cum in me, mon amour. Fais de moi une mère. Hmm? Imagine it. I'll be even more sensitive, my tits will be heavy and sore with milk and I'll ask you to massage them... everyone will know what we did," You moaned loudly. Make me a mother.
Charles's hips came to a halt, shaking with pleasure while he poured ropes and ropes of his hot cum deep into your walls. He let out staggered moans, feeling you clench around him and take even more of his load. Charles pressed his swollen lips onto your, kissing you dizzy while he thrusted out his high, ensuring his cum was staying within you.
Charles sighed out, pressing his forehead against yours. Realising you were once again on the brink of cumming, with his cock still in you, he brought his fingers to your engorged clit, rubbing the sensitive nub gently yet harshly.
He felt your walls grip him even tighter if possible as you began to convulse in his arms. "Jesus fucking Christ," You sobbed out, waves of your euphoric climax hitting you.
Christ, you were so sensitive, hips jerking up against his fingers, grinding to maximise your stimulation. He couldn't even stop you if he wanted to.
"Merde, ma cherié, cum for me. Yes, just like that," Charles coaxed, groaning as you somehow managed to get more cum out of him.
You let out a final whimper before collapsing onto him, feeling Charles' softening cock drive and push the cum deeper into you. You let out a low moan against his chest.
Charles pushed your chin up with his finger, looking into your eyes. He smiled, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your lips. "You did so well, mon amour," He praised, running a hand through your sweaty hair, getting a better glance of your face.
You gave him a weak smile, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "You think we did a good job?" You queried, voice quiet and tired. "You think we'll have a child soon?"
Charles grinned at you, planting another kiss on the side of your head. "If I didn't, I'll fuck you again and make sure that test has two lines."
𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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