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#or maybe it's not as bad as i'm making it out to be - it just reeks of angst to me lol
buggachat · 3 days
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adrien never went to public school / adrienette have never met AU where Ladynoir are dating but Marinette has beef with Adrien Agreste™ on twitter, spurred by her interest in the fashion industry and her friendship with Mylene. ads are all over the place of Adrien promoting products like air in a bottle and NFTs and just generally so many products that are extremely poor taste/bad for the environment. Marinette tweets about beauty standards in the industry and all the shit Gabriel brand does to the environment and how Adrien Agreste perfectly encapsulates it all.
Adrien, of course, never responds to any of her tweets. her tweets are just white noise in the background. she is nowhere near on his level. one day Marinette tweets out something akin to "if I saw Adrien Agreste irl i'd punch him in the face" and her twitter gets banned for Threats of Violence, Alya draws attention to the injustice of it via the Ladyblog and suddenly "I want to punch Adrien Agreste in the face [gets banned]" becomes a bit of a meme. NOW people know who Marinette is and are listening to what she's saying (on her new account or whatever). Chat Noir also tweets that he wants to punch Adrien in the face
A hashtag trends. Marinette caves and starts tweeting about the scandals of the industry on her Ladybug twitter too. Adrien's twitter and instagram comments are flooded with both threats to punch him but also just generally critical comments like "nice pic and all but are you not going to address the sweatshop allegations?". Adrien still does not address it. At most he turns comments off. Marinette is gnawing at the wood of her desk.
Then a Ladybug and Chat Noir identity reveal happens.
Marinette is stunned. Absolutely mouth agape. Cannot form words. Chat Noi— NO, ADRIEN— ADRIEN FUCKING AGRESTE looks at her and is like "oh ha :) .... Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right? You're the girl who wanted to punch me hahaha"
after recovering from her world being shattered, she's like...... "hahaha...... um............... yeah...... uh..... so you... DO know who i am. and you're just. ignoring it then. hahaha... ok... thats....... fine..... anyway..... u-uh...... im not... gonna actually punch you. but. um. k-kitty do you um. maybe want to stop promoting deforestation and all that"
he's like "I don't"
she's like. "yes you do. literally in your newest ad you said to the camera 'who needs trees when bottled air is the way of the future'. like did you really read that line out loud and not see a problem with it"
"yeah, that wasn't me"
"what are you talking abou—"
"it's deepfaked"
"..... what"
"all of my ads in the past few years are deepfakes. I complained too much so my father fired me. turns out that i signed away all rights to my face and voice to him when I was 13 or something. he can just use my face and voice and name however he wants. he generates ads. i dont even have access to the 'Adrien Agreste' twitter or insta accounts. sometimes he makes me do runways but beyond that I'm not involved in all."
"... ... ... ... ... what"
"yeah haha... :") im sorry. i wish i could help you more. but he never listens to me. i don't like it either, i.... i've asked him to stop sooo many times. but he never listens to me. i hate seeing my face used without my consent but haha.... i don't... have any rights here so. sorry. i really wish i could help more"
and now marinette hates "Adrien Agreste"™ ads/posts EVEN MORE and is threatening to kill Gabriel Agreste himself. all while kissing the real adrien agreste silly
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moondirti · 3 days
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blue collar simon x gn! reader. implied cnc.
Simon finds a journal on his lunch break.
It's inconspicuous. A5 black moleskin with an elastic holding it's contents together, bits of paper sticking out like nails on a poorly constructed house frame. He only notices it because his cooler slips off the bench when he blindly places it atop the fat book, sandwiches and packets of crisps now strewn across the dirty pedway.
The day's already been shit. A motley of blows, each made worse by the torrid sun overhead, sweat to cling to his grievances. An uptight site manager. A near loss of life after some tenderfoot got caught in between an excavation truck and the wall. Even his too-long hair, which curls around red ears – having not had a chance to buzz it off since being called in for this job. It's no wonder, then, that the tiny mishap stirs as severe of a reaction as it does; he chucks his hard hat across the road, satisfied only when it finds its fate mid-lane, an obstruction to inevitably fuck the tires on a white collar's new car.
When his rage settles as smouldering ash in his chest, he picks his food off the floor and cracks open the source of his animosity.
With no name or number, the first page holds just a chicken-scratch address. Interesting. Its owner hasn't made this easy on him, crafting it like one would a game. A skewing of traditional acquaintance. Granting nothing of their superficial identity, yet unrestricted access to their innermost thoughts. Thus he's forced to paint his own picture of the figure behind the words.
And what a picture indeed.
The first entry is brief.
13.02 – My therapist expects at least three pages a week. I'm not doing any of that, so don't get your hopes up.
It's evident that you don't stick to your guns. Though the next one is dated several months later, so he see's the attempt had been made. Written in a whole new hand, like you'd picked a dry pen off the floor and practiced your non-dominant grip:
08.05 – I broke my arm playing tennis. The umpire called a match-point in my opponent's favour and I threw the racket at his head.
I am no longer allowed to play tennis. What good is that resolution? My radius has a greenstick fracture. I'm already out of the game.
His laugh is abrasive and sudden, like it'd been pried from his chest by a pair of careless hands. Or as close to that analogy as it can get – your anger is intoxicating and only grows more potent across the pages. Inadvertently amusing. Simon chews through the tough crust of his torpedo roll as he reads, time wearing away under the stiff comb of your words.
There's hardly any variation in your cataloguing –
10.06 – The universe must need more bad people in it, because it tests my limits everyday. Can the fuck next door snore any louder? It's 2 am, goddammit. I wonder if it'd be overkill to ship nasal strips to his mailbox.
26.06 – Dad called today. Didn't pick up.
04.07 – I'm close to killing Kathleen. There's a reason the food in the fridge is labelled as MINE. GET YOUR GRUBBY PAWS OFF OF IT!
13.07 – The world is a shitty, stupid, crappy, icky, lousy, rotten, stinking, stinky, bad place. I hate my coworkers and friends and parents and landlord and etc etc. It's like everyone is out to get me.
– so it's like the honed curl of a hook. Whiplash-inducing, reeling his attention so quick that his neck strains in phantom pain. Simon stops everything, elbows settling onto his knees as he fixates on one entry in particular.
30.07 – I stand by what I said. The world is uniquely horrible. I think that's because I make it that way for myself. Whatever this exercise was meant to do for me, rage relief or introspection or whatever, it's clearly not working. I'm just as angry as I was before. Maybe burning these pages would help. I wish I could play tennis again. I don't know what to do with my hands anymore. I got fired last week. Need groceries. Eggs, spinach. Spinach always goes bad and I never make use of it. I keep buying it though. Dad keeps calling. I've got a migraine and I've run out of advil.
I just need someone to put me in my place.
And it ends there. No more entries after the fact, just a handful of blank pages before the journal wraps to a close.
He flips back over to the address at front. Looking at it a second time, he can tell the ink is still fresh.
Perhaps he misinterprets it. Perhaps it hits a little too close to home. It wouldn’t be the first time he looks for salvation in the empty lines someone leaves behind. Perhaps it’s just been a bad day, and he should go home before he does something he’ll regret. Perhaps it’s nothing at all.
Or–
Perhaps he sees it for what it is.
Here are all my colours. What you choose to do, or think, is no longer my concern.
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yeahxsurexokay13 · 2 days
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ideal weekend - lando norris
summary: while fans stress about the fact that, following their breakup, the actress won't be there to witness the driver's first ever f1 win, y/n gets asked about her ideal weekend off in an interview and accidentally manifests it [actress!reader]
warnings: i think only very bad editing (i tried) and me bringing up yet another footballer i feel affection for for literally no reason
fc: madelyn cline
started this as something completely different from what it ended up being but i think i like it. i'd love it if you let me know what you think tho (((:
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y/n.y/l
📍miami
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Liked by rudeth and 1.059.326 others
y/n.y/l yet another victim of a @/maxverstappen1 win. had so much fun but i think i'll just stick to acting 🙃🙃🫠 thank you @/redbullracing for having me!!! <333
view all 2.071 comments
username at a red bull event? what happened to once a mclaren girl always a mclaren girl????
username this event was basically work for her ?? you ppl need to stop taking everything so personally omg
username professional SUPER FAST driver, part time actress ❤️ by author
username you're in miami the same week of the miami gp. coincidence? i think not 😌😌
username GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL
redbullracing Glad you had fun Y/n! Maybe we should start considering you for a guest appearance in our garage 😉
mclaren Thanks for the offer, Red Bull! But we've already got dibs on her 😉
username UM I HOPE THIS ISN'T A JOKE ??
username don't play with me like this admin!!
mclaren Don't worry. We won't hold this against you 🧡
y/n.y/l ily guys 🧡🧡🧡
username Ok cool now go finish season 4
username Why are u in Miami shouldn’t u be filming obx 4 😪
y/n.y/l side quest
username not the Y/n x F1 content I was hoping for but at this point I'll take what I can get
maxverstappen1 Next time I'll give you a head start. Enjoyed having you with us, Y/n 🫶
y/n.y/l there will definitely not be a next time but thanks tho!!!👍🏼 always a pleasure seeing you ❤️
username pretty 🩷
username Why is Max literally this🧍🏼‍♂️❤️ by author
landonorris Um what's this?
y/n.y/l 😶 not what it looks like
username seeing you two banter like this makes my heart ache 💔
username i'm never moving on from y/nlando sigh
username OBX S4 WHEN QUEEN
29 April 2024
mclaren added to their story
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y/n.y/l
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Liked by maxfewtrell and 1.890.345 others
y/n.y/l me and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER lando norris
view all 3.830 comments
username JUST WHEN I THOUGHT TODAY COULDN'T GET ANY BETTER OMFG
username formula 1 race winner lando norris has a nice ring to it 😉 ❤️ by author
username What a race, and what a win for Lando!!!
username IM LOSING IT YALL I JUST CHECKED OUT OF CURIOSITY AND BRIGHTON ALSO WON TODAY Y/N MANIFESTED HER IDEAL SUNDAY
username minus the relaxing part lol i know for a fact bestie was stressing in that garage
carlossainz55 It's great to see you back at a race! Missed having you around! ❤️
y/n.y/l thank you carlitos ❤️ wish i could've got to see you up there with lando
charles_leclerc ouch ? 🫤
y/n.y/l noooo, i didn't mean you!!! x
maxverstappen1 ouch?
y/n.y/l i did mean you. sorry /:
username are we back in 2022 and i didn't realise?????? not complaining at all tho
mclaren You and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris look amazing! 🧡 ❤️ by author
username admin definitely ships
username children of divorce rise !!!!!!! ❤️ by author
username u think u're so funny liking this @.y/n.y/n but we're actually hurting we want our mum back!!!
username seeing you celebrate with lando was everything 🥹🥹🥹
username when i tell you i sCREAMED !!!!!!
username Everything in the world has been healed due to this post
oscarpiastri Awesome that you could come watch. Missed you ❤️
y/n.y/l missed you more pastry boy ❤️❤️
username we were robbed from this friendship !!!😪
username can't believe how emotional I am seeing you two together at his big win
francisca.cgomes ❤️❤️❤️ ❤️ by author
username just realised i am not as over y/nlando as i thought i was. in fact i am not over y/nlando at all.
username well seeing you with FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris just hit me right in the feels💔
landonorris Thanks for being there to share the moment with us ❤️ ❤️ by author
landonorris Also I think after this you might now have to come to every race ever
y/n.y/l clearing my schedule as we speak 🫡
username i am so ready to be delusional
05 May 2024
1K notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 22 hours
Note
fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe
it's a date
there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3
You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.
Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:
A low whistle exited Morgan.
"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.
Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.
"Hot date?"
"You could say that."
Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.
"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.
"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."
"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."
The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.
As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.
Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.
"That bad?"
You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."
There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.
"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."
That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"
"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."
"Which one?"
"Shrek."
Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.
"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.
"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."
Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.
"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.
"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.
The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.
"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.
"What about me?"
"Who's going to make it up to you?"
"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.
"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."
A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"
"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"
"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."
All yours. He could get used to that.
"It's a date."
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saccharinescorpion · 3 days
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i've been debating on whether to post about this but what the hell, it's relevant both to today's episode and the topic of people trying to smooth over the flaws of Dungeon Meshi characters.... so, uh, remember what i said yesterday about Laios forgetting the basics of human decency when interacting with Izutsumi
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i was intially worried about people reading this scene in uhh certain ways but was thankful to see most fans were chill with it... before i realized that. uh. maybe people were being a little too chill
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okay............ so,
1. for the record: i believe that it is clear from what we know about him and what we know about the entire series as a whole that, yes, Laios didn't have "untoward" intentions towards Izutsumi in this scene. there's even an aside in Izutsumi's profile in the Adventurer's Bible that says as much. he likely saw it in basically the same way Falin did when she was observing the reproductive organs of the caterpillar in that one scene. FOR THE RECORD this excuse would basically never fly in real life, but for Laios, it actually honestly makes sense... he has a habit of ignoring people's boundaries, he gets ahead of himself when it comes to learning about monsters... he didn't have bad intentions, no, but it doesn't change the fact that he's an adult man (not a [my face contorts with a great pain] "curious boy") who was being really invasive about a teenage girl's body. it was weird. it was 100% weird, lmao, i don't think fans are "lacking media literacy" by saying "uh yeah that was kind of creepy and inappropriate of Laios"
2. and i also don't think it's villifying ND people to say that. if i were to be honest, i would argue the whole "he's just a curious boy :(" thing is a lot more offensive to neurodivergent people. Laios clearly knows about the concept of bodily autonomy- he felt weird and bad about touching Marcille and Senshi in "intimate" ways just to heal them. literally one scene after this one he expresses embarassment about accidentally touching the leg of (who he thinks to be) Marcille. he very obviously possesses the capacity to understand why it would be inappropriate to observe a stranger's body like they were an animal. i can accept the explanation that his monster curiosity temporarily overpowered his "oh actually maybe i shouldn't try to get up close and person with this teenager who i literally just met," but that doesn't change that he had to be restrained from doing that. i'm not even saying he's a "bad person" or anything because of this scene- i just am baffled at the idea of fans being presented with the slightest bit of messiness (he was creepy to a young girl, however unintentionally) and jumping to try and "justify" it (he's just silly, he's socially awkward, he's autistic, he's a Curious Boy) and even mock others who rightfully point out that that was uncomfortable behavior. Laios was creepy to Izutsumi. he didn't mean to, but he did (and to be quite frank he was lucky to get off with a smack from Chilchuck and a blindfold)
3. "I would also ask" excuse me?
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writers-potion · 3 days
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Writing Female Fighters
The Heroine Must. Fight.
Today's female protagonists cannot sit on the side crying and breaking down or whimpering as the battle ensues.
Readers want to see autonomous female fighters who can at least defense themselves with courage and adequate skill.
Not all women are the same, but the heroine should get her butt moving.
Less Muscle, but More Flexibilty
The average woman is shorter than the average man, which makes it more difficult to wield a long sword or slam something down on the opponent's head.
A woman who works out can plausibly be stronger than a male couch potato, but if her male counterpart works out as much as her, the man is going to be much stronger.
On the other hand, the center of gravity in a woman's body is lower than a man's which makes it harder to knock her off her feet.
She is also more flexible, which gives her advantage in grappling fights, making use of complex landscapes, or deflecting blows.
A woman's small size can also be an advantage if her opponent has only ever trained with male opponents. His big hands might not get a good grip on her slender limbs.
In historical fiction, giving your heroine good muscule build can be tricky as exercise was generally considered harmful for women, with some exceptions for horseriding any maybe archery at best.
In such cases, make your heroine an accomplished dancer or an eager horsewoman, or the only girl whose father considered to be son replacement and thus, gave her a boy's education.
Women of lower classes who couldn't afford to be fashionably weak will be plausibly stronger, perhaps even more than an idle gentleman.
More Room for Negotiation, but Prolonged Ruthlessness
In the Suspense part of your fight scene, females are more likely to negotiate and talk more, strategically trying to descalate the situation rather than attacking on a momentary impulse.
Generally, women are less aggressive than men and remain level-headed longer than her male counterparts, opting for non-violent methods first before using force.
Exceptions apply if she is trying to protect her children (or someone who she cares for as a child). Mothers can be tigresses.
A female pre-fight conversation may be: "If you had not done so-and-so and betrayed me with so-and-so, we could have been good friends as I thought we would be." "What do you mean? It was in fact you who brought bad blood between us. I can still hear you laughing with so-and-so, taunting me, purposefully making me look bad -" "But that was so long ago! If you want me to say sorry about something so insignificant, you should have just said so: I'm sorry. There. Satisfied?" "Ha! I can't believe you say that so easily. You still don't get it, do you?" "Who's being petty and unreasonable now?"
A male pre-fight conversation will be shorter: "Who's the coward now?" "You're wrong." "Prove it." "Bastard."
Compared to men, it will take more time for a woman's fight hormones (adrenaline, neurotransmitters and such) to kick in.
She would be slower to engage initially, throwing reluctant punches and thinking, but she'll grow more and more violent and lose all rational thought and compassion, and once she's in full flow, may not stop even when her opponent begs for mercy.
When writing a male-female duo, you can show him going for the first blow while she observes and strategizes first. When he's past his peak and panting, she is flying about left and right. Later when the tension wears off and she becomes wobbly and teary, she can rely on him to have recovered faster and distract other teammates so that they won't see her cry.
Plausible Skills and Backstory
In many cultures and time periods, the general attitude of society towards girls is that they have no place in fist fights or martial arts, unlike how it is encouraged for boys of the same age. So if your heroine has physical prowess that surpasses typical 'fitness' or is hidden, build a backstory of how she's obtained it.
For modern heroines, it can be as simple as signing her up for martial arts classes or yearly membership at the local gym. For historical fiction or girls with strict 'feminine' upbringing, it can be trickier.
It can be related to profession: maybe she was an erotic wrestler, catfighter, or an assasin who thought killing was more honorable than prostitution. They may have dabbles with it for a short time and is now trying to hide their past from their respectable employer or fiance.
It can be family backstory: Perhaps her mother was an accomplished martial artist or she had to fend for younger siblings on the streets from an early age. Maybe she was the only girl in a family of many boys who refused to be the punching bag.
Inexperienced Female Fighters
A woman with no fighting experience or training is likely to resort to one of these on instinct:
Try to talk herself out of the situation, attempting to persuade or negotiate for her life.
Grab something to use as a weapon. This instinct seems to be stronger for women than it is in men.
Use her hands to try and break free, or kick (often wth little success)
Pull hair
Scratch.
In a serious fight, pulling hair and scratching won't be helpful, except when the police come to find her body, they would find the opponent's DNA under her fingernails.
Plausible Weapons and Clothing
All of the above applies to scenes where both parties have no weapons, or has the bare minimum (like one dagger each).
Weapons are equalizers, and if your heroine is pointing a gun at her opponent she will definitely NOT hesitate to be the one to shoot first.
When giving your female character a weapon, choose one she can plausibly use. It would take an unusually brawny woman to wield a great medieval longsword.
For historical fiction, give your heroine something she'll plausibly own. Swords and firearm were a no-go for women, but archery was borderline acceptable.
For clothing starters, you definitely CAN NOT dress her in a tight miniskirt and chainmail bra with long, flowy hair and multiple silver chockers. Unless she's trying to seduce her way into her opponent's bedroom, and he has a chainmail bra fetish.
A practical heroine will have her thighs covered, preferably with leather but at least with fabric, since a lot of blood flows through the thighs and a slash would be critical.
She'll keep her hair tied, tucked under a helmet, braided back, etc. so that it won't impede her vision.
She'll support her breasts with a strong sport bra. In a historical eprioid, she'll either tie her breasts tight with a fabric bandage or support them with some kind of leather corset.
Invent a female version of male fighter clothing of the time you are writing about if it doesn't exist.
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erwinsvow · 2 days
Note
i want rafe and reader at midsummers 😩😩
i did with shy reader being nervous before! hope this is okay ♡
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a big public event—and that too on rafe's arm for the first time in front of his family and all of his friends, along with everyone you seemed to know too. it was enough to have you in hysterics, but you kept all the turmoil in your brain inside, not wanting rafe to think you couldn't handle this.
rafe had invited you for a reason. the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint him, but your own nerves were taking over.
what if you did something wrong? like embarrassing yourself and rafe in front of everyone. or worse, if you said the wrong thing or froze up in an important moment? the thoughts clouded your mind, made everything seem hazy in the days leading up to the party.
you'd been to midsummers only once before—forgoing the other years since going out to a big party with the entire town didn't seem appealing at all, only going if your parents dragged you.
but this year was special—your first with rafe, and he had cared enough to ask you along, as his date. you'd gone to the shops and picked out a pretty white dress and blue shoes to match him, nails painted and hair done.
even now, all dressed up and waiting in your bedroom for rafe to come get you, you debated if you could really do this. so lost in your thoughts, applying layers of lip gloss and staring in the mirror to catch any last minute imperfection, you don't even hear rafe come in.
"c'mon, kid. ready? car's runnin'."
you turn to look—like always, rafe looks so handsome your heart hurts. he gets closer, and you want to shy away, maybe crawl under the sheets with him and wake up tomorrow morning after this whole thing is over, but you refrain. rafe kneels down next to where you're seated on the vanity, a hand on your knee.
"you look beautiful."
the way he says it, you believe him.
"thanks," you breathe out, still staring down at him.
"c'mon. don't wanna be late, right?" nodding, you follow him downstairs. when the two of you arrive at the party, your heart is thudding in your chest. you grip his arm tight before he can lead you in, moving to the side of the entrance.
"i-i just need a minute, please. i-"
"s'okay. something wrong?" rafe leans in to ask, and you feel flushed all over again. he cares, and all you want is to please him, make him feel like he doesn't have to worry about you tonight. you swallow uncomfortabtly.
"yes. i just-i'm.. being me. sorry."
"don't say sorry." rafe does the thing, the thing that always makes you melt, taking your chin into his hand and tilting your head up so he can look at you. "you wanna leave?"
"no, no, i- we just got here. i can do it. this is important to you."
"you're important to me. not this crap. you wanna go home? i'll take you now."
when he says it, you feel like you're floating. you shake your head, following rafe in, and though for the last week you'd been scared about this very moment, it doesn't feel so bad now that rafe's reassured you. he's good like that, good for you, calming you down instantly.
you sip on a drink and stay attached to rafe's arm—briefly wondering if he wants you to go mingle alone. but when you try to pull away, he doesn't let you go, hand wandering to your waist and holding you there firmly.
you smile up at him while he's in conversation with someone, and though he's still talking, rafe takes the minute to look down and smile at you.
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predestinatos · 3 days
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CHALLENGERS — CL16 & MV1 🏓
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summary: the line between rivals and friends was blurred. and then you came. MINORS DNI!!!!
word count: 3.5k
tags: charles leclerc x fem!reader x max verstappen, implied cheating, flirting, them being horny boys, 3some vibes, heavily inspired by challengers.
warnings: smut (no sex but... everything else) dirty talking, cheating, cursing.
note: yes i've been obsessed with challengers and i thought the dynamics would look rlly fun on a fic!!! am 100% invested on making this a series! also i'm aware those are padel things in tbe picture but this is just for the cover aesthetics okay!
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12:52AM
“You know I can beat him, right?” Charles’ voice sounded rough as he stood against the doorframe, confident smile spread across his lips, arms crossed against his chest, making his muscles stand out. You looked at him then, from your lying position across the hotel bed – one you shouldn’t be on – and shrugged. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
The defiance in your tone registered like a cold breeze across his skin, causing him to shiver slightly yet not break his demeanour as he moved towards you silently, lowering himself towards you on the bed now, face inches away from yours. “I didn’t know you still needed convincing.” Charles noticed how you licked your lips as you stared at his, how for a quick second you almost forgot what you were talking about as your breaths melted into each other. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, both of you so silent it could’ve been a scene from a nature documentary: prey seducing predator, but which is which?
“You asked” you replied, refusing to break the distance first, wanting to prove that you were stronger than he thought, that he needed something from you which he couldn’t possibly get, not anymore at least. You looked at his eyes, its bright colour now so darkened by something close to thrill over what was going on in that moment, a thrill you wanted to suppress. “Just wanted to see how good of a liar you were” Charles bit his lip, smile now growing slightly. Maybe it wasn’t thrill. Maybe it was actual amusement.
“You’re unbearable” you said, now turning your face away from him, rolling your eyes at his sheer arrogance. “You want me” he got up from bed, taking off his t-shirt as he searched for his pyjamas. His back flexed with every movement, muscles stranding out in his glistening skin. He smiled knowingly, because although he could not see your face, he knew you were looking. He always knew.
“Brave of you to think so” you shot back, getting up as well, grabbing your bag from the small armchair placed in the corner of the room. Rushing towards the hotel door, his frame stood between you and it – the ability to breathe, the absence of guilt, the absolution of uncommitted sins. “See, you’re still a bad liar” his bare chest rose and fell in front of you and Charles wished he could say he wasn’t about to crumble before you but that wouldn’t be true either. His confidence was only partially real, for he did not have the strength to do more than this, to test you and push you only this far – part of him knew you couldn’t resist, but he was never entirely sure.
YEARS EARLIER
The country club was boring. You didn’t know why your family insisted on going apart from trying to prove how rich they were, something which got exhausting too quickly. Sitting at the table, you played with the olive in your martini as your dad talked about “business” and your mom laughed about something.
The sun warmed your skin as your bare legs welcomed the heat gladly, the only source of some amusement in that place. It was tiring. Your brain felt like it could explode from lack of stimulation. Minutes passed at the speed of years. You had to do something, quick, or else- “I’m going for a walk” you said suddenly, or a voice said, part of your brain who was even more tired than you thought. Your family stood, staring at you briefly before nodding and continuing their tasks, like robots who were well instructed to continue their mission but not used to abnormalities.
Max was sweating. We would feel disgusting, unclean, even, were it not for how focused he was on the game, on his friend – rival, for a few minutes – in front of him. The tennis ball travelled from his racket to Charles in something near to slow motion for him.
Charles was amused. He always was, for he loved playing almost more than winning. He loved getting under his friend’s skin, seeing how hard he tried to beat him while his careless attitude ate him with each hit he took. There was something god-like about his commitment, his seriousness, that Charles admired, if not even envied. He couldn’t care as much about things the way his friend did – he was passion, Max was reason. That’s the way they always worked, and you could see it in the way they played, hear it in the way they grunted as they hit the ball with their utmost force.
“Okay let’s take a break” Charles said, throwing his racket carelessly on the floor as he walked towards the end of the field, towards his water bottle. Max stood in place, looking at his friend, wondering if he looked as disheveled as him – dark hair glued to his skin, cheeks red and a constant frown on his face from the sun’s insistence on affecting them. “It’s 30-all! You can’t just ask for a break when it’s 30-all!” his complaints were dismissed with a shrug of shoulders. “I just did”
Max inhaled heavily, used to this behaviour yet not immune to how much it annoyed him, and on his exhale, he felt his friend’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them gently. “Relax, don’t be so tense all the time,” Charles whispered, slight irony laced in his tone as he buried his hands in his friend’s warm shoulders from the heat.
“Don't stop now, I was enjoying it” your voice broke through them unexpectedly, causing them to turn their eyes towards you simultaneously. Max stared at you, his eyes locked on your teasing ones. But it was Charles who spoke first, in an attempt to match your tone. “And who are you, exactly?” Though you answered his friend, your eyes remained on Max's green ones, on the shy smirk growing slowly across his lips. The hands previously on his shoulders fell across them, brushing his back and finally leaving him altogether, as if melting from the heat. He barely noticed. Maybe he didn’t notice it at all. “I'm Charles” he walked towards you confidently, leaning against the railing that separated the court from the bleachers, one eye closed in a permanent blink due to the sun. You got up, looking, for the first time, at the dark haired man closer to you. Moving slowly towards him as you climbed down the stairs, you felt his defiant gaze, so different from his friend’s yet equally as alluring to you. Now as close to him as you could, your hand on the railing, mere inches away from his arm, you spoke. “And your friend over there?” Charles looked back, as if trying to recall who you could be referring to, prolonging a moment unnecessarily, only to allow his arm to brush against your hand as he turned back towards you, head tilted. “Why do you want to know?” Max’s racket felt cold against his burning skin, the image of his friend's toned back and tanned neck directed towards you, with a short skirt and tight top, causing him to wonder if he was hallucinating, overheating, going crazy. “Charles, she wants us to play more.”
10:45PM
He liked watching you, how you moved so softly, hands caressing your legs as you applied mosturizer. It was almost religious, how your breath guided his unintentionally, how he forgot everything for a few seconds, maybe minutes, maybe hours.
He leaned against the bathroom sink as you placed your foot on top of the toilet seat to better access some parts of your skin you could not otherwise reach. You felt his gaze, still so similar to the one he first used when he first layed his eyes on you – the same intensity, mind over matter debate circulating through his mind as he analyzed every inch of your skin.
“I’m going to win tomorrow” Max said from behind you; a certainty in his voice that made you chuckle with something close to frustration. You muttered an ‘okay’ as you continued your movements, your bracelets clinking against each other. “I’m serious. You know I’m serious” he repeated, frustrated at your nonchalantness, at your dismissal of his convictions.
“Don’t be patronizing” you finally said, turning around as you spread the remains of the cream on your arms and hands. Though you were in underwear and he was clothed, he felt vulnerable in front of you. The ring adorning both of your fingers didn’t make your presence any easier to bear over the years, despite his attempts at pretending it did.
“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows now raised, turning his head to follow your frame which walked towards the hotel bed. “You know what I mean, Max” your voice was stern, your head always high despite you being shorter, as if he was the one who had to look up to you, though he hadn’t, not really.
“You weren’t like this with him” he looked down now, his profile outlined by the bathroom lights. You admired his attractiveness, his intentional care to be clean, precise, as close to perfect as he could. You admired how his expressions never oscilated between extremes, or at least how he managed to hide it so well if they did.
“You don’t need me to tell you these things the way he does” you sighed. You had had this conversation, or something close to it too many times to count. “You have the girl, you have the championship, what else do you want, Max? You want me to constantly tell you you’re a winner, you’re a big fucking boy who’s so so good?” you continued, more aggressively than you perhaps intended, though it did not matter, not really, at least.
He looked back at you now, though he dare not move. His throat bobbed up and down now, and you noticed how his knuckles whitened slightly as he held the sink tightly. “Maybe I do” it was almost a whisper, the way he said it, trying to hide from the attention he so craved, his body manifesting more than he wanted to show.
You looked further down his body, to where your words seemed to affect him most, though he remained looking at you. You admired his silent boldness in contrast to Charles’ loud one. "I chose you, Max" your voice sounded velvety to him, almost driving him insane as he felt his cock hardening. He felt ridiculous. Maybe he was; his obsession with your approval was also an obsession with beating Charles' appeal to you. He might have won many battles but Max had won the war.
YEARS EARLIER
Charles was better - better looking, better skilled, and effortlessly so. Max thought all of this as he stared at the back of his friend's slightly burned neck, standing behind him in front of a bedroom door.
"Ok so, let's not fuck this up" Charles said, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a match. "She clearly wants us"
"Us?" Charles turned around at the question, incredulity written across his face. "Yes, us. Now which one she wants more... We'll find out"
Before he could protest at his friend's unapologetic confidence, the door opened. You stood there, oversized t-shirt being worn as a nightgown, smiling at the two boys.
Both of them frozen, lusting over you so obviously it was almost insulting, were you not turned on by the way their gaze explored your body. Charles had a signature smirk that did not care to hide where his imagination was roaming as he stared at your bare legs; Max, on the other hand, was overcome by a darkness that almost intimidated you, studying every inch of your body hungrily.
"You're just going to stand there?" you asked, half laughing, waking the boys up from their trance. They both rushed inside excitedly, causing you to giggle subtly. It was flattering, how much they seemed to crave your sheer attention.
“So…” you asked, moving to sit on the carpeted floor, trying to make them comfortable – which didn’t need much effort, as they seemed to make themselves at home promptly, Charles’ unbuttoned shirt exposing his chest to you, and Max’s own t-shirt was so tight it left little to the imagination.
“You liked to see us play” Max started, a newly found confidence reaching him, a smile matching it perfectly. Maybe you were the one to give it to him, your eyes landing on him as if daring him to speak, him specifically. Charles’ opened up a bottle of a cheap drink he found at the liquor store they had ran to just hours before, as they realized they might actually have a chance with you.
“I did” you answered with a nod, now looking at Charles, who offered you a glass, your fingers brushing his purposefully.
“So much that you wanted more” Max continued, so factual it could pass as arrogance – though it resulted in a blush from you. You admired his sudden calculated boldness, the way he brought the cup to his lips after saying those words, as if he had commented on the state of the weather.
“And you gave me more” you replied, trying to match his – maybe their – tone.
“Oh, we haven’t given you nearly enough” Charles now stepped in. He couldn’t help himself, not with you in front of him, not with the small room closing in on him as he felt your need grow along with his, along with Max’s, along with the cups and the drink and the sheets and the carpeted floor.
“You two do this a lot?” you asked, daringly, though the question had crossed your mind throughout the day. Was this enticing to them? Sharing a woman, pleasuring her together, driving her mad with their games, their touch and words?
They let out a soft laugh together, almost synchronized. They were both beautiful, though in opposite ways – Max’s features were hard despite his soft, quiet demeanor, while Charles’s were softer, more carefully sculpted despite his own careless behavior.
“What, go after the same girl?” Charles asked, looking at Max, who looked at him as well. They found it amusing and rather ironic, really. Everything was a competition to them, even if nothing got in the way of their friendship. What made you especially exciting was how they both wanted you, and how both of them were aware of that fact. They both know the game was on the minute you showed up, like a match they fought in the court.
Upon your nod, Max decided to speak up. He had to; it was somehow agreed and decided who would say what, an unspoken rule he seemed to have made with Charles but couldn’t quite remember. “No, not at all” he laughed, cup now empty as Charles grabbed the bottle and filled it some more.
“What he means is… You’re just that attractive” the brown-haired man spoke. Was he flirting with you, or were they both doing so, even if it came only from his voice? You couldn’t help but feel your whole body responding to how they looked at you, how they seemed to crave you with indescribable need.
“What about you two?” you asked now, blaming the alcohol – though you had barely drunk anything. Their eyes went from you to each other again, awkward and rapidly, as they blushed slightly.
“No, I mean… no we haven’t” Max said, causing a soft chuckle to come out of Charles, his friend’s shyness over the topic making amusing him. It’s not like they haven’t thought about it – not at all – but they hadn’t told each other this. This concept lived in their heads, and none of them dared to bring it up, though they had seen each other naked and crossed lines most so-called friends probably wouldn’t. But neither of them had the conversation about what it meant, or what it could mean, because they didn’t feel the need to. Not until now.
You shrugged it off, finishing your drink in a single gulp. Looking at those two men, you realized you couldn’t quite decide what to do next – you wanted to do so many things that felt too forbidden to speak.
You looked up at Max, his eyes so needy it made your blood pulsate in your veins, the certainty that he would do anything for your touch right in that moment causing you to shiver. Slowly, you moved towards him, his face so close to yours that he dared not move, not until your hands reached his neck and pulled him towards you, kissing him.
That seemed to shift something in him, his own arms holding you as if scared you’d leave, as if wanting to consume you all, taste all of you. His hand instinctively grabbed your waist, though you knelt on the ground and couldn’t – wouldn’t – go anywhere.
“Oh, fuck” Charles said, looking at the both of you. The sight should make him jealous, but it did quite the opposite. He felt aroused, more than he wanted to admit, watching Max controlling your body and movements, eyebrows furrowed from pleasure, as your own lips moved messily and erratic against his, not caring about how it looked. You were putting on a show for him as you savored all of Max – Max was simply savoring all of you, for he had forgotten his friend was even there.
You pulled away, however, now deciding you had to try the other man, who seemed to be in a state of pure bliss over you, your attitude, your movements. You barely moved towards him – you didn’t need to – as he rushed towards you his hand resting on your thigh and grabbing it tightly. He was more aggressive, more assertive and confident in his kiss. He didn’t let go of himself the way Max did, but then again he barely held himself back at all when it came to you.
Max was staring. He knew he was staring but he couldn’t look away. The sight was erotic, something out of his deepest, darkest fantasies – your hair being slightly pulled by Charles’ strong grip, your own hands on his cheeks as his tongue travelled across your mouth. Suddenly, his kissing went down to your neck, and you held him there as you looked directly at Max.
Just your look could have driven him insane, right there and then, but he wouldn’t let it happen. He was hungry for more of you, more of whatever was going on, wanted it to last as long as it possibly could. “Come here” you called for him, who obliged immediately.
At first, he mimicked Charles, but soon his mouth was on yours again and you felt both boys’ mouths on your body, the amount of sensations fogging your mind as you let them both consume you. You pulled Charles mouth to yours, joining the kiss you were sharing with Max. The three of you kissed – messily, sloppily, completely letting the primal, animalistic part of you loose.
You wanted to touch yourself. Wanted them to touch you, feel how wet you were, savoring all of you. You wanted them to touch each other for you – for your gaze, for your entertainment and fulfillment, the way they were doing so now, as you pulled away and watched their own mouths against each other.
Max was hard. He couldn’t think anymore, dizzy from the caresses he was feeling on his body, from the insanity of the moment, from everything and nothing. Charles was drunk – drunk on the intense rush flowing through him, from how hard he knew he was, from how fucking spectacular everything seemed in that moment.
You were in complete bliss. The two men before you were in absolute awe of you, yearning for you with fervent need, letting themselves go to the point where they even yearned for each other. It was time to stop it.
“Okay” you said, snapping both of them back to reality instantly. Both Max and Charles were shocked at how they felt nothing close to shame over the moment. In fact, they felt exhilarated, ready to keep going, to prolong the moment with each other, with you, forever. “It’s time to go” you continued, watching the glow disappear from their faces as they breathed hard, chests falling and rising rapidly. “What?” they asked in unison, something close to innocence returning to their faces.
“We’ll do this again, right?” Charles asked, getting up after you did, with Max following. He was aware that he was hard, his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers and shorts uncomfortably. And he was also aware that you were turned on, though he could only imagine how soaked you actually were – a picture that didn’t help his situation.
“Sure” you answered, seeing their gleeful faces one last time before adding, as you walked them to the door “one of you will. The one who wins tomorrow”, closing it on them before you could see the smile turn into a frown.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days
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Hurt V
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Morsa's operation
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Morsa has to have surgery on her foot because she hurt it really, really bad. Bad enough that she's out of the team while she recovers. Bad enough that you have to visit her in hospital.
Momma takes you into her room when Morsa wakes up from her surgery sleep.
"Morsa," You say," You've got Sweden on your foot."
On her bandaged foot is the Swedish flag. You recognise it because Morsa tried to make you learn it before you learnt the Danish one. She failed at that second bit but she did make sure you learnt the flag.
"Yeah," She says," I do have Sweden on my foot."
"Is Sweden making your foot better?"
Morsa laughs a little while Momma puts you up on her bed. "It is."
"You should take a picture," You tell her," So the team can know Sweden's making you better."
"Alright, princesse. I'll take a picture for the girls."
You make sure Morsa takes a lot of pictures to show both the Bayern girls and the Sweden girls so they know she's okay.
The doctors keep coming in all day to check on Morsa and her Sweden foot and you get to watch Morsa get poked and prodded before being taken home by Momma.
Morsa's got to stay in the hospital for another day to check that her Sweden foot isn't going to fall off or anything but she's welcome to come home the next day.
She comes home on crutches, hobbling up the front doorstep before practically melting into the sofa. You bring her a drink and she captures you quickly, tugging you onto the sofa with her before crushing you into a hug.
"Morsa!" You shriek as ticklish kisses attack your face," Stop it!"
"Hey, now," Magda laughs," Don't kick out. I'm injured, remember? You don't want to hurt me more."
"You're doing this on purpose!" You tell her as one of her hands winds around your legs so all you can do is wiggle your body.
"Doing what on purpose? Giving love to my favourite girl?"
"Make Momma your favourite!" You tell her but she doesn't listen, dropping more kisses all over your face as you try to escape.
"Magda," Pernille says reproachfully as she returns from the kitchen," You're still injured. Take it easy."
"I am taking it easy," Magda replies whilst standing and dangling you upside down by your ankles.
"Magda," Pernille says again," Holding our child hostage is not taking it easy."
"I beg to disagree."
"Magda, I mean it. Sit down."
Magda sits down, releasing you as she does so and you hurry off to your toy corner and beanbag chair to catch your breath.
"Have you still got Sweden on your foot?"
Magda pulls off her sock to triumphantly show her Sweden bandage. "I do still have Sweden on my foot!"
"You should put Denmark on your foot."
The grin on Magda's face drops as she stares at you, mouth hanging open. "What?"
"You should put Denmark on your foot," You repeat," Because Momma's from Denmark and she always makes me feel better when I have ouchies."
"Princesse," Magda says," I can't just change it to Denmark. That's like...treason or something."
"Why's it treason?"
"Because...er...Because..."
"Because your Morsa is very silly and takes a rivalry a bit too seriously even at home," Pernille explains to you.
"Oh," You say, nodding in understanding before turning back to Magda," You're very silly, Morsa and you really should put Denmark on your foot because then Momma's Denmark magic can help you."
Magda still looks stricken and Pernille forces herself to cough to cover her laugh.
"That's a very good idea," She says," We've got to change Morsa's bandage anyway. I managed to buy a red bandage. Can you get some of the medical tape?"
"Is it in the ouchy bag?"
"Yep, in the bathroom."
You scamper off and Magda gives Pernille the biggest, wettest puppy eyes she can manage.
It doesn't quite work the same way as when you're doing it.
"Pernille," She says," Please?"
"I don't know. Maybe my fancy Denmark magic will help," Pernille teases just as you come back in with the white medical tape.
"We're making the Denmark flag," You tell Magda as Pernille unwinds the bandage," So you can get better soon."
Magda forces herself not to grind her teeth in annoyance and smile at you instead. "Thank you, princesse."
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evilminji · 1 day
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Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?
And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!
Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???
JUST SOME DUDE™!
Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?
On the SURFACE!
This place seems utopian!
No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!
Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!
Cause see?
There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?
Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)
Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.
Through the Zone.
Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.
They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?
And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!
If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.
No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.
Just? Imagine~☆
The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"
Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.
He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.
They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏
I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.
As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.
I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.
He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.
And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.
Either, Or.
I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.
There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!
@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation
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strawb3rrystar · 2 days
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the same HH and HB boys with a s/o that murdered a person who was after them, brutally? Like, the boys can barely distinguish the person's face from how much rage their s/o took at 'em, blood n shit everywhere. Love me, a crazy person who would kill someone 4 me 🤑🤑‼️ for example, sumn like the situation that Stolas has Stella, she's always after him. And their hysteric lil s/o drags them to the corpse and is just there grinning proudly and shit like they didn't rescind a mf's body. I feel like Blitz would be so moved "omg🥹🥺" give his s/o headpats and shit but idk again, you're best at writin' about him, love youuu! -🐆
My insides are red, and yours are too.
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Pairing: Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Blitzø, Stolas x GN! Reader
Warnings: Violence, talks of murder
Word count: 425
✰HH Masterlist | HB Masterlist
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Angel Dust will be more or less freaked out. Like, he's seen dead sinners before, but he didn't think you were capable of murder. Basically, you killed someone at one of the clubs you frequent who made him uncomfortable. Even though he gets freaked out at first, he finds it very sweet that you killed someone to protect him, and not just for fun.
Husk is surprised at first when you show him the body. Like Angel, he didn't think you were capable of murder. Though he warms up to the idea eventually, it's Hell, you're going to need to defend yourself. I'm not sure who you would have killed for him. Maybe someone he lost to in the past?
Sir Pentious is completely shocked that you murdered someone for him. He knew you were capable of fighting since you've fought alongside him before, but he's never seen you so excited about it. He must admit, he finds your enthusiasm to be quite charming. Wants to hear you rant about every detail of the body and how you planned it of course.
Alastor isn't surprised in the slightest. In fact, he loves the fact you killed someone for him. It proves your loyalty. You probably murdered one of his enemies/someone who hates him. Which is a lot to choose from. He finds your joy of killing to be quite similar to his, and he finds it endearing.
Lucifer is now terrified of you. He knows he's stronger than you in every way being the King of Hell, but he can still get scared. He's mostly scared of the look on your face after it happened. Seeing that face in thousands of sinners, he never thought that you would get that look too. And, you know, it scares him because he kinda feels like he's losing you a little bit.
Blitzø is also ecstatic about you murdering someone. He's never seen you do something so badass and he loved the little show you put on for him. Is very supportive, hyping you up and everything. Either thinks you're his best employee or wants to marry you. And there is an in between. It's both!
Stolas will be quite alarmed that you killed someone for him. He's ever grateful however, considering that he's constantly trying to be assassinated. If you killed Stella, first of, what the fuck?? Secondly, he didn't think anyone would actually kill her. Probably helps you make it look like an accident or blame it on someone else so you don't get in trouble.
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Star's notes -> The other day my friend and I played 'Phobics' on roblox. Turns out I have a fear of mannequins and being chased lol. We also played Doors and got jumpscared so bad (I hate loud noises)
(Thank you, 🐆 anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)
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Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @ghostdoodlen
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@saints-wrapped-in-plastic @sweetadonisbutbetter @little-miss-chaoss @sunr1s3-strab3rr1 @naathanuwu
@solicitedfreakiness @sugarplumz100 @hazbinhappy @facelessfionna | Join the taglist
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steventhusiast · 1 day
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STWG prompt 18/5/24
prompt: better to ask for forgiveness than permission
pairing/character(s): steddie, the party
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
"Are you sure about this?" Lucas whisper yells as Will anxiously checks no one is looking down the Harrington house's driveway.
Dustin's crouched in front of the door, poking a hair pin into the lock with his tongue poked out, and Mike is leaning against the door, unbothered, so it takes a second for anyone to answer.
"I'm worried about him!" Dustin finally says, his motions getting more intense as he seems to fail to pick the lock. "I haven't seen him all week! He wasn't at work all week either, I checked!"
"He booked the week off." Lucas reminds him.
"Well then why hasn't he been hanging out with us?" Dustin huffs, and then goes back to his attempts.
"Who even taught you how to do that?" Will asks.
"Eddie, he taught me too." Mike says.
"He's gonna be so pissed at us." Will continues quietly, biting his lip, and Mike shakes his head.
"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission."
"Eddie taught us that too!" Dustin chimes in.
Ten minutes later, they've finally managed to get into the house. Lucas is privately surprised that Steve didn't hear them and come see who was trying to break into his house. Maybe Steve's not even home! Hopefully.
A quick survey of the ground floor reveals no movement, so the group make their way up the stairs until they're in front of the closed door leading to Steve's bedroom.
Dustin determinedly reaches for the doorknob, and Lucas tries to stop him once more.
"I really don't think he'll appreciate this, Dust-" He whispers, but Dustin cuts him off with his own (attempt at) whispering.
"I need to make sure he's okay!"
With that, the door is quietly pushed open, and promptly all of their jaws drop and they stand in the doorway in silence, processing what they see.
Steve is laying on his back, fast asleep with his mouth ajar, and tucked into his side is a very naked Eddie, whose butt is unfortunately peaking out from under the covers. He's asleep as well, his face pressed against Steve's hairy (and hickey covered) chest.
"I told you this was a bad idea." Lucas whispers frantically, gesturing at the pair. He looks to Will for backup, but Will is bright red and his eyes are still on Steve and Eddie, so he figures that's a lost cause and turns to Dustin and Mike.
Mike looks a little red and shellshocked too, but Dustin immediately starts whisper yelling some more.
"Well, he should've told me!"
"Told you what? That he's sleeping with a guy?"
"Not just any guy, Eddie! Why didn't he tell me?"
Lucas feels a hand grab at his shoulder urgently, but needs Dustin to understand what he's trying to say so he ignores it.
"He was probably scared you'd hate them for it!"
"For dating?"
"For being gay, idiot."
"I'm not gay, for the record. I'm bisexual." Steve suddenly pipes up, and Lucas and Dustin look over at him immediately with wide eyes.
Steve and Eddie have shifted a little now, Steve propped up against his headboard with Eddie lazily laying against his chest still. Thankfully, his ass is covered up now, but Lucas knows he's naked and that's enough to make him shudder.
"Hi Steve. Fancy seeing you here." Lucas tries with a (hopefully) charming smile. Steve snorts in response, and drops his forehead to rest on Eddie's hair for a second in defeat.
"This is literally my bedroom, Sinclair. How'd you guys get in anyway?"
"We picked the lock on your front door!" Dustin says, having the nerve to sound proud of himself.
"Right. Of course." Steve sighs.
"Eddie taught us." Mike chimes in, finally having gone back to his normal colour. Will's still flushed, but looks more present overall, and he nods along to his best friend's words.
Steve quirks a brow at the information, lifts his head again, and promptly flicks Eddie, who's still half asleep, in the head. He immediately looks more awake, and glares at Steve as he rubs where he got flicked.
"Ow! What the hell was that for?"
"You're the reason they picked the lock, Munson."
"Oh, look what you guys did. I got demoted back to Munson." Eddie finally addresses them for the first time, but thankfully he doesn't look too upset. More amused.
Actually, now Lucas thinks about it Steve doesn't look upset either. Pissed off? Yeah. But in that older brother way he gets with them, not actually mad.
"You're the one who told us to ask for forgiveness not permission!" Dustin defends himself, and Eddie gets another flick to the head for that from Steve.
"Well, are you going to ask for forgiveness then?"
"Screw you. We were worried about you!"
"Have you heard of phones before, Henderson. And the rest of you, really? Wheeler, I expect it from-" Steve starts, getting interrupted by an indignant 'hey!' from Mike, "But Sinclair? Baby Byers?"
"For the record I did not want this to happen." Lucas says defensively, and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Interesting considering you're still here when you could've abandoned them." Eddie snorts.
"The party sticks together."
"Still waiting on that beg for forgiveness." Steve singsongs, and Eddie sits up a little straighter as he adds on his own demand with a grin.
"I want full-on on your knees with prayer hands, begging for forgiveness."
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Text
Charlie: "You know what your traumatic backstory calls for?"
Vaggie: "Hugs?"
Charlie: "THERAPY!"
Vaggie: "Charlie, I don't need-"
Charlie: "Oh YOU don't need therapy? Really? Really."
Vaggie: "..... I'm perfectly functional. Also, it's my trauma."
Charlie: "And is this OUR loving relationship?"
Vaggie: "Of course it-"
Charlie: "The one I'm planning on spending the rest of my life in? Trauma included?"
Vaggie: "I- if, if you want to-?"
Charlie: "Just like how YOU'VE spent three years helping ME with the whole 'wow my family fell apart soooo fast let me cope by latching onto the dream of my disappeared mom while pretending it's totally fine I somehow feel even MORE distant from my dad who lives only a ten minute walk across town' thing? Making 'help charlie!' into your whole Reason for Being?!"
Vaggie: "Hold on, I wasn't in the best headspace when that slipped out-"
Charlie: "OBJECTION! Clear admission of truth!"
Vaggie: "-fuck."
Charlie: "And did you let me be there for you then, when your head was in a bad place? Or did you pull a 'I want to be alone' card?"
Vaggie: "I just needed- I didn't want to say anything else stupid."
Charlie: "Oh so you didn't wanna be dramatic about it, huh?"
Vaggie: "Yes- NO!"
Charlie: "Like how I can be dramatic?"
Vaggie: "It's not the same-"
Charlie: "Do YOU like being there for ME when I'M in a really bad no good and sad headspace?"
Vaggie: "You know I do."
Charlie: "Even when I go sit in a corner my own because I still can't believe there's someone in my life who'll want to come looking for me- who I don't need to apologize for being sad or 'dramatic' around- and who says she's HAPPY to be worrying about me?"
Vaggie: "Sweetie I am happy to worry about you."
Charlie: "Ah-HA! But I don't get to do that for you! YOU want me to be sad around YOU-"
Charlie: "Wait that sounds weird, uhh- oh whatever-"
Charlie: "Point is, I don't get to see YOU being sad around ME! And no, anger don't count! You like being grumpy! Grumpy is active! It feels productive and that's why you hate feeling SAD!"
Vaggie: "You just said you hide it from me too. Even after three years of being together."
Charlie: "Oh no really? Does that bother you???"
Vaggie: "It worries me!"
Charlie: "Okay then!!! EXACTLY! We both need therapy."
Vaggie: "...."
Vaggie: "That's fair."
Charlie: (preening) "Thank you."
Vaggie: “How the fuck did you not win that case up in Heaven.”
Charlie: "Angels are jerks and their minds are hard to change. Not my angel though. Mine is great~"
Vaggie: "Hold that thought until after I've asked this one question, sweetie."
Charlie: "Ask away!"
Vaggie: "How do we do therapy."
Charlie: "....."
Charlie: "H-"
Vaggie: "Without using Husk and alcohol. We are not paying him enough to deal with my angelic shit."
Charlie: "We could give him a raise- how much do you think-?"
Vaggie: "Not even if we gave him the hotel, babe."
Charlie: "Oh."
Vaggie: "So. What does sober therapy look like?"
Charlie: "Hmm....."
Charlie: "......."
Charlie: "Next question."
Vaggie: "Do you wanna just start off with a hug."
Charlie: "I want to pat myself on the back for having such a smart, supportive girlfriend- but you'll have do to it for me instead. While we hug."
-phone call time-
Carmilla: "You have five seconds before I hang up. Talk.
Charlie: "Carmilla, hi!!! It's about Vaggie-"
Carmilla: "No."
Charlie: "Oh ok! I just thought-"
Carmilla: "No."
Charlie: "-you seemed to really care about her, and maybe see a bit of yourself in her, maaaaybe you'd have some tips on-"
Carmilla: "No. Take her to Rosie's. Go with her and STAY with her."
Charlie: "Rosie- OF COURSE Rosie's! Right! I will!!"
Carmilla: "Don't take it personally when she tries to escape."
Charlie: "When she whats?
Carmilla: "The brooding silently in a chair and refusing to talk will also pass. Give her space. But don't leave her."
Charlie: "No no I won't, but why would she try esc-"
Charlie: "Oh Vaggie! No, I'm just on the phone with Carmilla-"
Vaggie: "WHAT."
Charlie: "-we're talking therapy ideas for you! And-"
Vaggie: (muffled swearing)
Charlie: "-she says Rosie's might be a good idea! You know, like how Alastor took there so I could talk everything out with someone finally, well I guess and also to get a cannibal army, but Rosie helping me with the you issue by laying my heart bare to her was the main good thing from all that, so-"
Charlie: "-VAGGIE GET BACK HERE!"
Carmilla: "Condolences on her having wings again. Good luck"
Carmilla: (hangs up to the sound of frantic flapping and yelling)
Zestial: "...."
Zestial: "...toss'ed to the very wolves... truly, that was wretched of thee."
Carmilla: "I owe them nothing."
Zestial: "And what of thyself?"
Carmilla: "Why, were my disinterested actions of a moment ago not self-serving enough for you?"
Zestial: "Thou art denying much in thine distance from her."
Carmilla: "I already have two daughters-"
Zestial: "As thou sayst."
Carmilla: "You are not my therapist, Zestial."
Zestial: "Nay- would that thou should'st yet find one, old friend."
Carmilla: "Be quiet."
Zestial: "Shan't~"
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mncxbe · 1 day
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# pm!dazai who has a crush on his partner/rival ݁ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: jealous, slightly posessive dazai, mild enemies to lovers, dazai and his complicated feelings
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"i can't believe you actually have a crush on Chibi. what's so special about him?" huffed the brunette, leaning against the lamppost behind him. the dim, golden light bounced off his brown curls, illuminatung his downcast expression.
"what, are you jealous?" you retorted, earning a scowl from Dazai. "don't be ridiculous."
it was mere hours ago that your archenemy found out that Chuuya asked you out on a date. an insignificant thing, really, but it vexed him. what on earth could you possibly see in that redhead midget? he just had to know, and as petty as it might be, he was dead set on changing your mind about going on that date. even if it meant following you back home and talking things out with you in front of your apartment at 9 p.m.
"i'm just saying, Nakahara isn't your type. i know it" argued the brunette, crossing his arms over his chest. "he's temperamental, immature, totally unfunny and shorter than you"
"maybe i'm into guys like that" you shrugged absentmindedly, applying an extra layer of gloss on your plump lips.
Dazai had to admit you looked absolutely stunning in that outfit. he felt his cheeks warm up as his gaze lingered on your lips but he quickly looked away, shaking his head. "that's not possible. are you really that desperate to get a boyfriend?"
"well, summer's coming soon. i need someone to take pretty pictures of me at the beach and to buy me flowers" you smiled, fully turning to face him "you got a problem with that?"
"you bet i do. that's just vain and i don't see where Chuuya comes in. you could date any other guy."
"yea, but i like Chuuya. besides, we get along well and he actually knows how to treat a woman"
and I don't? Dazai wanted to ask. his blood boiled, jealousy clouding his judgement as he peered down at you. imagining you and Chuuya together holding hands and walking down the halls of the Port Mafia's headquarters, kissing and cooing at each other like a lovey dovey couple made his stomach churn. it felt wrong in so many ways, yet here you were, waiting for the redhead to pick you up for a date. with each minute that passed Dazai's irritation grew.
"for someone who knows how to treat a woman he sure is late for your date" he scoffed, rolling his eyes. you took a step closer to the brunette, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"you're acting so petty right now. damn, you must be really jealous"
"i'm not jealous" Dazai's sharp glare returned to you, clenching his fists as he leaned closer to you. "i just think it's stupid. you two would never work out"
"how do you know that?" you pressed, chuckling at his unfounded claim. you weren't used to seeing Dazai like this, so worked up about something so insignificant.
"because i know you and i know Chuuya and you're a recipe for disaster. i'll be damned if i let you get heartbroken by that idiot" without realizing, Dazai leaned closer to you, his body towering over yours. he was seething, glaring down at you. his chocolate brown eyes seemed almost black in the dark, menacing, a warning of his bad mood. you knew you should stop pushing him, but you just couldn't help yourself. you wanted him to say what he truly had on his mind.
"and who are you to say who gets to break my heart and who doesn't?" your words struck a cord and Dazai's features darkened. it was a damn good point: he wasn't your friend, just a colleague. no, your self proclaimed archenemy. although you've known each other for years, he knew there was no deeper connection between you than the childish rivalry. but that was enough to make Dazai grow attached and develop a sense of ownership over you. or maybe feelings? in any case, how could he possibly allow Chuuya to take you away from him? he swore he could see red before his eyes when your phone's screen lit up and he read Chuuya's name on display.
before you could answer Dazai seized your wrist, wrapping a hand around your jaw to tilt your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. he brought his face mere inches away from your, so close you could feel his hot breath against your lips as he spoke. "who i am? i'm the one who's been by your side all this time, though thick and thin. yea, you're an annoying brat most of the time and i hate your guts but i'll be damned if i let Nakahara take you away from me. you're mine, got it? i'll take your stupid pictures at the beach and buy you flowers if that's what it takes for you to drop this stupid date"
your breath caught in your throat at his sudden outburst. did he actually confess? it didn't quite feel like it. your gaze mused on his features as you searched for answers, but you didn't find any in the sharp line of his mouth or the furrow of his brows. "so... what are you asking me to do?" you breathed out, a mere whisper that sent shivers down Dazai's spine. he let go of your wrist, wrapping a steady arm around your waist.
shit, he really didn't think this though. he's never been good with his words and now that he had you in his arms, so close he could smell your intoxicatung scent and feel the warmth of your breath on his skin his brain short-circuited. "i... i'm asking you to stay with me tonight. and from now on. i'll take you to dinner instead" he said softly, his harsh features melting away when you nodded. "thought you hated my guts" you chuckled, gathering the courage to cup his face with your hand. his skin was surprisingly soft. Dazai leaned into your touch, a shadow of a smile etching itself on his features "well... i wasn't lying. but i hate the idea of you dating Chuuya more. can't let him put his hands all over my pretty girl" sighed the brunette, his lips ghosting over yours "so? will you stay with me?"
goosebumps raised on your skin as you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his. the kiss was heated, desperate but oh so loving. threading his fingers through your hair, Dazai gently tugged at your roots, making you mewl into his mouth. when he pulled back, his signature smirk was back in place. "i'll take that as a yes then?"
"yea, idiot" you giggled, looking down at your phone to hide your blush. "just let me text Chuuya not to come then we can go grab some food"
Dazai nodded, taking a few steps back. he was beyond pleased with himself. though he didn't necessarrily planned to confess, things went smoother than he thought they would. and he finally got a date with the girl he liked and snatched her from Chuuya. there couldn't be any better turn of events. you watched Dazai lean back against the lamppost with a content smile and you could barely suppress a laughter.
opening Chuuya's chat, you quickly typed in a text.
AAGHHSJSJ!!! your plan worked Dazai asked me out. Chuuya you're a fucking genius thanks for this. i owe you big time bestie.
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cattjull · 2 days
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'𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢
bsf!ellie x reader!!
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SUMMARY: You get ready to a party with your best friend, but acting like you don't like her will be more difficult than ever tonight.
CW: r! is afab, r! shows her tits to ellie (?), alcohol game, and I think that´s all.
A/N: This took me forever to write but I really really liked how it turned out
PROMISE OF A DRUNK— It was kind of difficult to bring Ellie to a party. She would always complain about it being just loud music, alcohol and sex; but what's all that called together if not fun?
Probably what you most liked about parties was that you could get drunk and tell Ellie all you thought about her,how much you liked her, how hot she was, how much you loved seeing her with that reading glasses she wore sometimes... Because you could deny everything the next day. "I said that? what?" "I didn't do that" (whatever it was, yes you did) "Nah I don't trust you. I'm not the type to say that", you would say. It would seem weird for others but only you (and Ellie) knew how difficult it was to not confess to your best friend in the middle of watching a movie, or making bracelets, or having a sleepover. So yeah, sometimes getting drunk was a scape way to all your pretending.
After convincing Ellie to go to tonight's party, as you always did, she came around to you house in black jeans, a white tank top and a black leather jacket that—you'd never admit, made you go FERAL. The auburn watched you as you showed her your possible outfits: skirts and going out tops. You kinda noticed how she stared at some part (2 parts, if you want me to specify) of your body. Far from feeling harassed, you kinda enjoyed Ellie's gaze, like... She was just your best friend who liked watching you(r tits) and you were her best friend who liked... Her. So why not enjoying it?
"Oh, and-" you lifted your top, leaving your braless tits exposed to the air. "How are them? Like, they look good?" Her expression was completely shocked and in the matter of seconds her face turned red like a tomato. Completely.
"I, uh... They're good, yeah." She said and immediately covered her face with her hand and looked away, focusing her gaze in the floral pattern of your blanket.
"You didn't even look." You laughed. Then she turned to see your tits and the colour in her face intensified, if that was even possible. After like five seconds of being hypnotised, she finally looked up at your eyes.
"Good." She nodded. "Are you happy now?"
"I think you're the happy one here." You chuckled to yourself and took off the top completely, ready to try another outfit.
With Ellie's help you chose a midnight blue top with some black skirt and boots you didn't put on yet. Now it was makeup time. After less than 10 minutes, she started getting bored.
"When will you finish?"
"Not now."
She whined. Twenty minutes later, your sparkly blue makeup was done and when you turned around, you found Ellie sleeping, spread in your bed and a dumb smile formed in your lips. You sat beside her and looked at her eyelashes for a second, then at her lips. Oh, her lips. Impulsively, you leaned in and kissed her.
Her forehead. Because it didn't matter how bad you wanted to kiss her lips and how you dreamed about it (asleep or not), you couldn't do something she didn't allow you to, you just weren't able to. Maybe you loved her too much. You leaned in, getting your mouth close to her ear. You blew her, causing her to wake up suddenly and to sit up with a little scream.
"Hey! It's not fu- oh" Her almost inexistent amount of annoyance was replaced by... Something? when she saw your makeup. "Woah. You always surprise me." Her lips were parted now.
"I know." you shrugged cockily. "Are my eyelashes symmetrical?" You got closer and blinked a few times, looking at her beautiful green eyes. She couldn't help it and looked down at your tits. She dug her own grave and she knew it but come on, she couldn't help herself. And you obviously noticed this.
"My eyelashes." You repeated to Ellie in a teasing tone.
"I'm looking at your eyelashes!" She protested as her emerald gaze shifted to your eyes again. "They're symmetrical."
"The eyelashes too?" She hit your leg, a slight blush creeping onto her beautiful freckled cheeks.
"Shut up." Her reaction made you chuckle.
"Can i do your makeup?"
"Uh, just nothing weird."
"Just eyeliner?"
"Yeah, that will be good."
"Sit against the headboard please." Ellie obeyed you. She knew that was an excuse to sit on her lap, but she wanted you to so...
You took the bag from your night table, ready to do your job. You sat on her lap, with your legs on each side of that pretty black jeans of hers.
"Look upside." Ellie did as you said and you started doing your job.
You felt your cheeks turning a completely different colour when Ellie placed her hands in your waist. You wouldn't admit how nervous you got because of that, and Ellie wouldn't admit she too even though she was the one who made the move. While you traced small lines all around Ellie's eye line, you couldn't help but notice she had gotten red as well. Crimson red. Even though you would've loved to mock her about that, you were in the same position as her so you shut up, both of you enjoying the closeness and at the same time pretending absolutely nothing was going on between you, even knowing that if one of you pulled the other girl's face closer in a kiss none of you would pull back in a long, long time.
You kept doing her eyeliner, trying to ignore the indecent thoughts of Ellie that crossed your mind, mashing up the images of Ellie when she was changing in the same room as you with right now where you sat on her with some Twitter videos you'd never admit you watched. She's your best friend and just your best friend. She's your best friend and just your best friend. She's your best friend and just your best friend, you repeated mentally trying to sound convincing. After like 5 minutes you were done, and with a phew you announced you were done.
"I thought I was gonna screw it."
"Me too." Ellie received a small hit in her arm.
"Hey!" You complained.
"I was joking, you're incredible." She said as she sobbed her arm.
"Oh, don't flirt with me now."
"You're delusional." You smiled at that.
"Shut up. Are we going to the party now?"
You took an Uber to the house of someone you didn't actually know, but you were invited by some friend anyways.
In the way there, you leaned your head in Ellie's shoulder with tranquility. You thought that maybe, if you had done something impulsive when doing her eyeliner, probably both of you would've been tense now, but that didn't happen and that wasn't even important to you right now because, come on, you were in Ellie's shoulder and her head was leaning on yours. Yeah, you used to do that but that didn't mean you couldn't get nervous, and getting nervous didn't mean Ellie would notice that. (Did it?)
12 pm
Music came from the inside of the luxury building, inviting you to come inside. The night was young and there wasn't any drunk people yet, not enough to notice.
You entered inside the building and in the kitchen you could see one of your friends, Dina, which was Ellie's best friend and when she saw you immediately gestured for the two of you to join the group she was with with a friendly expression.
"We'll have fun." You said and dragged Ellie with you by her hand as if she didn't know how to walk by herself.
2 am.
The vodka bottle, almost in the half now, rested in the middle of the round. If you didn't want to answer a question, two sips. If you didn't want to fulfill the dare, four sips.
"Truth." The blonde named Lacy said tilting her head to the side with a smirk.
"Who do you like?" Jesse asked.
"Oh come on." You complained about the same basic question everyone always make in truth or dare, interrupting; half of your politeness always faded away with a little of alcohol in your system. "Ask something interesting."
"Shut up. It's interesting." Jesse defended himself.
"Sure."
"Well, I like some girl who has short hair and is right here." She answered when your little argument with Jesse finished, looked at Ellie and winking at her.
If Ellie had been sober, she would have frozen and stay awkwardly silent. But she wasn't, so she smirked with a noticeable red face, looking the girl she didn't know down, and scratched her ear. If you had been sober, you would have dissimulated and tease your friend about the situation. But you wasn't, so you glared at the girl with the most pure hatred before shifting your gaze to Ellie. YOUR Ellie.
You placed your hand in the Auburn's thigh casually, something Lacy didn't overlook. And she shouldn't, you were threatening the hell out of her.
Ellie is mine. Stay away. As simple as that. Ellie looked at you with a surprised smile.
"Oh?" She got closer, you were frozen at this and when your soul came back to your body she was whispering in your ear. "Are you jealous baby? Is that why you touch me like that? Because I think she likes me."
She blabbed with a dumb smile. What did she call you? BABY? Your face was burning now and all you hoped (Besides Lacy's death) was that Ellie didn't notice your nervousness, which you were almost 100% sure overflowed your body, being almost palpable.
"I'm not." You said taking credit away from the situation. Your hand still rested in Ellie's thigh, wishing to go up. Now was Lacy's turn, who looked at you like you invented global warming.
"Truth or dare, Els?" Sorry? Els? Come on, only you called her like that. And Dina sometimes. Who the fuck did she think she was? Just going there and calling your girlfriend like that as if-
"Dare." She smirked.
"I dare you to kiss me." OH NO YOU FUCKING-, you shouted in your head as your poor knuckles turned white because of how tight you were clenching your fists. Ellie came closer to... The bottle? She directed it to her mouth and drank four sips, making a disgust expression.
"Sorry girl, I'm taken." She smiled at her before sitting beside you again. Now she was the one touching your thigh, sending shivers all over your leg.
"Taken?" You asked with true curiosity.
"By you." A silly smile appeared on her lips. She got closer in an attempt to kiss you.
"What are you doing?" You giggled at Ellie's interest for you, which she only showed when she was this drunk or talking between dreams, two things you were used to pretend that didn't happen because god it would be so awkward for Ellie to tell her about that, to confront her, to ask her if she had any actual feelings for you. You moved your head to the side so she ended up kissing your cheek. You didn't even perceive if she behaved like this JUST because of the alcohol or if she actually liked you and it was more difficult to hide it after some drinks but you decided to not think about it much, not now. Ellie rand her hand down your thigh slightly, squeezing it a little.
"Truth or dare?" The Auburn asked you.
"Truth."
"Do you like me?"
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cherryredstars · 23 hours
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omg hi cherry!!! yay yay yay I'm so excited requests are open! I love your writings ❤❤❤
Mkay so I was wondering if you would be into writing something more fluffy (I mean you can put smut if you want, lord knows I'm not gonna complain 🤭). I was thinking maybe reader is a teacher, and Gabriella is in her class at school, so she meets Miguel that way. And like over time he just keeps making excuses to see her, even though Gabriella's grades are actually totally fine— he's just so down bad lmao
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reder
Warnings: Fluff, Last Line is Suggestive
A/N: Hi, lovie! Thank you!!!
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You're fucking stunning.
Standing there in a pretty little dress, skin glowy from summer vacation. Got one hell of a smile on you, too. It has Miguel antsy as he waits in line to drop Gabi off for her first day, his hands tightening around his daughter's book bag as his eyes study every little move you make. Eyes zeroing in on how the wind plasters the back of your dress to your legs, your hands catching the front of it to prevent the fabric from flying too high up. He's nothing but a lovesick puppy by the time he reaches you, nodding dumbly to your introduction as he marvels over the softness of your hand in his, and eyes dropping to the glossy tint of your lips. He has to stop myself from making a noise when you bend down to talk to Gabi, complementing her outfit and gushing about how excited you are to be her teacher this year. The sight is so fucking domestic and he has to stop the fantasies popping up in his head. He takes it as a god-given sign that you're meant to be his when you start to get up, only to grab onto Miguel's shoulder as two little kids come running and bumping into you from behind. He'd be one hell of a lousy man if he didn't jump at the opportunity to grab at your waist and pull you closer to him to 'help steady you'.
Any day that Gabi comes homes with a little paper asking for parent help at a school event for her class is one hell of a lucky day for Miguel. Instantly jumping at the opportunity, signing up the seconds he reads it. Can't miss out on a single opportunity to see how you treat Gabi like she's your own kid or be close to you. Fucking loves how flustered you are every time he takes something off your hands, encouraging you to leave all the heavy duty labor to him so you can focus on the kids. He's always offering to do something for you. Something in the classroom is broken and the school's maintenance is taking too long to fix it? Oh cariño, why didn't you say something sooner to him or Gabi? He'll come in during your lunch break to fix it up while the kids are at recess. Sweet little thing needs help putting up decorations around the classroom? Oh baby, what do you think big, large men are meant for? He'll stay after school Friday and put everything up, just sit and be pretty as you help Gabi with her math homework. Sad that you need to buy new supplies for the classroom but they don't fit into your budget and you feel bad having to ask the parents to donate supplies again? Oh doll, send him a list of anything and everything you want and it's yours, pretty ladies like you don't deserve to worry about things like that. He'll even give you his number so he can buy you lunch.
And when you blink up at him with your sparkly doe eyes and ask, "What can I do to repay you, Mr. O'Hara?"
Fuck.
If you aren't careful, he might just have to buy you a pretty little ring. And, by next school year, you'll be introducing yourself as Mrs. O'Hara.
Maybe he'll even give you a kid of your own while he's at it; Gabi's been bothering him about a baby brother, anyways.
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