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#like i'm sorry but nobody will ever be them. truly nobody will ever do it like them.
myohmyimanxious · 3 days
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Hazbin Hotel Headcanons bc I'm obsessed xoxo
(Some NSFW is implied/mentioned)
-Husk was there when alastor sold his soul to whomever it was
- He also has no trust is alastor whatsoever like he's terrified of him but he also wouldn't trust him for his life (literally)
- Angel has PTSD
- But he doesn't realise he has it, bc he represses feelings and everything
- Charlie and Angel have a sibling dynamic
- They're pain in the asses for vaggie and husk
- Charlie reminds angel of his sister molly
- He also doesn't really like to celebrate his birthday bc it's not the same without her (unless he's shit-faced drunk and won't remember)
- Vox will make his screen brighter or flicker to get and hold val's attention
- Angel is Husk's lucky charm in gambling moments
- Angel genuinely did love val in the beginning and thought val loved him too
- Whilst Alastor truly does believe that a smile is a both a way to control the situation and hide one's true intentions, his smile is stitched on and he physically cannot remove the stitches as it's part of his deal
- Alastor is colourblind in the same way deer are
- Angel knows what they said about him in Angel court and he plays it off but it really upset him
- Alastor was a serial killer in his life
- He was never caught though
- Alastor plays static when actively trying to ignore someone
- He also plays music for the hotel to dance too, finding that he and Angel enjoyed the same music (bc of the similar time period)
- Husk once got alastor drunk enough to dance with Charlie and taught her how to Charleston dance
- Nifty is like everyone's child. You cannot mess with her
- Nifty will bring bugs to the person she likes most that day (usually alastor)
- Vaggie has threatened angel's life on many occasions
- Those two argue constantly (it's friendly tho)
- Charlie spends a lot of her time breaking up little spats in the hotel
- Charlie has nightmares about the time she saw alastors true demon form
- It made her feel super bad for him too, and she's offered to cut the stitches on his mouth but he refuses
- Lucifer is trying to be a better dad
- It's hard but he is actively trying
- He likes to hand out rubber ducks he's made/painted when people are upset
- Angel has a lot of them, bc he frequently seems to catch Lucifer when he's returning from work
- Lucifer is autistic for sure
- And his ducks are his special interest
- Lowkey he's also smitten by fat nuggets when he meets him
- So much so that when angel is at work lucifer happily offers to feed and look after the lil guy
- Fat nuggets once ate off of alastors plate, and that's the only time it ever happened bc by fucking god did alastor go crazy
- He didn't hurt fat nuggets tho it's okay, he wanted to but angel was like ILL DIE AGAIN BITCH TRY ME MOTHERFUCKER and pulled out some guns
- Angel gives Alastor the tea of what's going down with the Vee's when he gets it
- Mainly bc he hates the Vee's as much as Alastor and also bc Alastor asked him too and he's kinda scared of him
- And also bc it's fucking easy bc Val is a dumb bitch who doesn't know how to be subtle if he tried, Vox thinks so little of Angel that he thinks Angel would be too focused on the sex and Velvette doesn't care much for Angel either
- That's not to say that the Vee's haven't tried to get Angel to be their spy on the inside too, it's just Angel is like nothing to report also I gotta work sorry and just lies to them
- A wannabe patron once was rude to Charlie and lucifer decked them
- Everyone was amazed he had it in him to do it like that bc damn mans was pissed
- Let's just say nobody is rude to Charlie anymore just in case
- Also Charlie is also fucking terrifying when she wants/needs to be
- Someone called Angel a whore and tried to touch him and she went off
- Lucifer had to hold her back
- Fuck with her friends and she will kill you 😊
- Charlie cries at everything (good or bad)
- Vaggie is a real trooper putting up with it
- Angel was like "would you be like that with me if I cried all the time?" To husk, and husk with no hesitation said "fuck no"
- Husk treats Angel like a princess in the streets but a slut in the sheets
- They've deffo fucked behind the bar
- Charlie and Rosie keep in touch
- They have tea parties with Alastor
- Val is scared of Niffty bc she's unpredictable and bc he's not over what happened in the club
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tiger-moran · 2 months
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When people are unironically using the terms TMEs/TMAs or AFABs/AMABs or 'men, women and enbies' or fucking 'theyfabs'
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larentslovechaos · 1 year
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fangirl-dot-com · 28 days
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🐍 Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
I'm sorry to the ones I couldn't tag. If you do want notifications for when I post, there's always that option as well!
Logan had a new phone. And for the first time in a while, it felt nice to just be disconnected from the world for a bit. The people who truly mattered had his phone number. His Instagram had been wiped, along with every other social media. The American had gone dark. 
And apparently you had done the same thing. 
His parents and brother knew where he would be, just in case for emergencies. However, he asked them to not text much. He needed time away, well, away from the current grid. It hurt him, seeing how supportive everyone was with Theo. No one had ever congratulated him when he first got signed. Hell, even Oscar hadn’t known right away, claiming he had forgotten. 
Of course, he had given you his new number because you’d be the only person he previously knew that he’d still be in contact with. You also gave Logan you’re new number, having similar ideas to your friend. 
Well, he had given George his new number. The Briton had texted his old number in a panic-like manner when Logan deactivated everything. Under a temporary contract, Logan wasn’t legally allowed to tell George anything except that he was safe and needed time away. 
The brunet was not happy with that, but he let Logan know that if he needed anything, he would come running. A bit of happiness let itself seep into Logan’s heart, thankful for the Mercedes driver’s friendship. 
When he had read the email after the social media posts went up, his mind blanked. 
What did Andretti want with him? A washed-out jobless nobody. He believes they should have been looking at someone like Carlos or even Ollie, who was making good times in F2 car. It had to be anyone but him. 
So why was it him? 
He had been about to call you when you had first facetimed him on his laptop. He couldn’t even get words about before you started screeching. Logan chuckled as you went on a rant, as this could be their big break. His silence had given you a look into how he was truly feeling. 
Your voice had quieted down on the device. 
“You’re going to take the offer right?” 
Logan winced at your tone, which gave you the information you needed. You rolled your eyes as you sat on your bed. 
“Logan, we were just dropped by two teams that didn’t even want us. They pushed us away like we were nothing. And now, there’s a team with top potential that truly wants us, and you don’t want to take the opportunity?” 
The American boy sighed. You had a point. 
“I’m just scared that I’m going to get there, and then make a fool out of myself. Then Michael is going to see how truly bad of a driver I am,” he hugged out. 
You could hear the fear in his voice, and it devastated you. Where did your confident and smiley boy go? Williams would pay for it, one way or another. 
You were hesitant to say something. 
“Logan, even if our times aren’t what we’re wanting at first, Michael said that we will get better. He’s sent my manager some data and it looks like we are scarily similar with our driving styles. Logan, the car is going to be made for us. Michael made sure that I knew that we’d have a chance, because I’m not driving if you’re not. Together or nothing, we come as a package.” 
Logan sat up quickly off his bed. He glared at you through his laptop.
“You did not just quote Charles Leclerc to me.” 
“And what if I did?”  
“No, you can’t give this offer up if I don’t drive.” 
You glared back at him, although you had a smile. 
“It’s either both of us, or none of us. I’m tired of never seeing you, and you need a friend you can count on. I’m sorry to say but Oscar has done a very shit job of being your friend. I’d say that George is a better friend than him.” 
Logan sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just hard to accept that.” 
Your smile dropped a bit. 
“Logan, he was supposed to be your friend and then he dropped you. Everyone had dropped you so many times and you’ve been the one to pick yourself back up. But now, you’ve been dropped a final time, yet someone wants to be the first to help you back up, to clean your wounds, and to heal you. And now you don’t even want that?” 
You had a point. 
Like always. 
“Your words never seem to fail me woman.” 
“That’s because men are the inferior being.” 
Logan snorted. 
“Will I see you in Milan next week?” you asked with hopeful eyes. Logan could see the glimmer that shined in them. He didn’t want to be the person to damped that. 
“I will see you in Milan.” 
The first thing that popped into Logan’s mind when he got to the base was “Holy Shit.” 
The building was massive as he walked through the giant doors. He really thought that this was a movie set with how grand it was. Surely this couldn’t it? Maybe he had the wrong address. 
“Mr. Sargeant?” 
Or maybe he did. His body turned to the lady standing near the front desk. He showed a smile that was definitely a tad too wide and showed too many teeth. Thankfully the lady didn’t show any malice as she sweetly grinned at the blond. 
“Yes ma’am. That’s me.” 
Always the good southern-hospitality manners with him. 
“I’m glad you could make it. If you’d follow me, Michael is waiting in his office for you.” 
Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he finally knew that he didn’t have to circumnavigate the entirety of the building. 
The air was fresh as he walked behind the lady, who he now knew as Marissa Andretti, Michael’s sister and Head of Directors. Her own American accent was like a comforting blanket to Logan. Gosh, did he miss hearing a familiar voice to his own during 2023. 
The one voice he couldn’t wait to hear was your own. He knew he’d be safe once he heard the lisps of a Southern draw when you talked. The slurred vowels and the biting consonants would be music to his ears. 
“How have you liked the simulator and the data so far?” Marissa asked as she led Logan down yet another hallway. How big was this building and were they leading him to his death? 
Yet, despite his concerns, Logan was very happy with the results. 
“The car is already so fast. It’s like it’s just an extension of me instead of working against me. It feels so right.” 
Technically, Logan had been on the first plane to Milan to start testing, as his own anxiety wouldn’t let him wait until the week was up. You had your own simulator back in the States, so you did your testing there. Logan had been back in London when the email came, and his set up was not going to function with the high tech that Andretti needed. 
Marissa smiled over her shoulder. “Good, that is exactly what we are wanting to hear.” 
Finally, she stopped in front of a door that had a giant-ass A on the front. Logan wanted to laugh at the cinematics. Surely, this was a movie and he was going to be the main character. Marissa pushed a button and the door slowly swung open. 
Logan’s smile grew once he saw you in one of the very plush seats in front of the desk. You immediately stood up and jumped into his arms. He breathed deeply and all weight slowly melted from his body. It had been so long since he had gotten to hug you, hold you, feel you. 
When you pulled away, you had a blinding smile on your face. 
“Glad to see you here Logs.” 
His nose scrunched at the old nickname. 
“I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were 12, Y/n.” 
You huffed. 
“Fine, no nickname for you.” 
“I take it back. I ban you from calling me Logan.” 
“Isn’t that your name?” 
“No?” 
“Logs!” 
“Ah there it is!” 
A cough signaled to Logan that they weren’t actually alone. He sheepishly turned around to face the man who, hopefully after this meeting, would be his boss for a couple of years. Logan turned his full body towards the desk and stepped with his hand outstretched. 
Michael had a knowing smile as he shook Logan’s hand. 
“I am so sorry sir, I didn’t even realize that you were already here, and I haven’t seen her in a while, and it’s so good to just here the accents because the grid is entirely too European and Asian, sometimes I couldn’t even understand them, and…” 
Michael put his hands on Logan’s shoulders. 
“It’s just fine kid. I totally get you.” 
Logan visibly relaxed under Michael’s hands. 
“Now, why don’t you sit down and we can start talking contracts.” 
Logan lit up at the word. 
“Contracts?”
You gave him a smirk. 
“Yes Logs, contracts.” 
Logan felt as though he couldn’t breathe. But this time, it was with excitement and not dread. His butt quickly found the seat next to yours. Marissa left the room with promises of coming back with celebratory drinks. 
Michael pulled out two small stacks of paper before he started speaking. 
“So, I’ve talked with both of your managers and we’ve come up with a contract. You two can look over it as I read the big details. The finer print is stuff that you both have already previously gone over, but you are still encouraged to look over it one final time.”
You and Logan had the same exact papers. 
In the initial emailing process, the two of you had voiced that you were a packaged deal. Logan was surprised to see that Michael had said that he wouldn’t want it any other way and was glad to possibly not have to deal with drivers hating each other. Logan thought anything would be better than Brocedes 2016. 
You looked down at the words as Michael read them out loud. 
“Ok, so in the contract, the two of you will be signed until 2027. There is an exit clause in section C, but we are not allowed to terminate prior to 2027. The two of you will be granted ambassadorship with whatever sponsors we’ve received. The sponsorships are in section E and it gives a rundown of each one and what they will be contributing to the team. 
“Per secrecy of wanting to keep the identities secret until we reach the grid for testing, the two of you will go under pseudonyms.” 
You raised an eyebrow. 
“Like a call sign?” 
Marissa flashed a wicked grin. 
“Exactly like a call sign.” 
You continued, “Do we get to come up with them?” 
Michael clasped his hands. “So we thought that Y/n could go by Phoenix and then Logan would go Venus.” 
Your eyes widened as you took in the name. Wasn’t too bad, you thought. 
Logan let out a sigh of relief. “At least it’s not like Eagle or something. That would be super obvious.” 
The boss-man chuckled before he looked back down at the contract. 
“Since the two of you did not specify a salary, we took the liberty to come up with one ourselves. But please feel free to mention what you’d like and we can always raise it. We also liked to put in that for every point scored, the two of you get a bonus as a little incentive. The salary will not be dropped no matter if points are scored or not. Think of it as a baseline.” 
Michael chuckled as he watched yours and Logan’s eyes drastically widen at the sight of the eight digits before the decimal. Logan gulped at the sight. 
“Michael, I think you added too many zeros.” 
“I think I didn’t add enough.” 
Logan couldn’t respond. 
You looked up from the paper to Michael. “I think it’s high enough.” 
The goateed-man smiled back at you and continued. 
“I’ve seen the skills parts on your resumes and thankfully the two of you do not need to learn Italian from scratch. I don’t even know when the two of you had time to learn it, but thankfully it is not required in meetings or in the garage.” 
Logan smirked as he looked at the words. 
“What’s the fun in that? We can have secret conversations with ourselves.” 
You tapped his shoulder. 
“Except Ferrari will know and maybe Lewis.” 
“I’ll have my Duolingo account at the ready.” 
Michael watched as the two of you pored over the papers and bickered like an old married couple. He and Marissa already had a bet going to see when the two of you would get together. But, you didn’t need to know that.
“I digress. You can speak in Italian if you want to. The next couple of sections are just PR related. The two of you wanted to bring you own teams in, which is fine. I’ve sent emails and meeting times to each of them and have been replied to. All is in motion. Logan, you mentioned something to me once about your personal trainer leaving?” 
A sigh left his lips at the mention of Benny. He really didn’t want anyone else. He slowly nodded. 
“He had to leave to be with his family. Williams wasn’t the most accommodating and he was told that he had to be at every race. Normally I didn’t even need him until race day. He’d miss so much time with his family because of traveling and things like that.” 
“Well, I think we have you covered.” 
Logan looked back down at the paper. A small gasp left his lips. 
Ben Jacobs was written in black ink under “Personal Trainer.” 
“How?” 
Michael smiled. 
“It took some convincing, but he said he’d come back for you. Of course, Ben will be highly compensated to return after he said he wouldn’t. His family will also be accommodated for any race that they’d like to attend and Ben can show up however late he needs. His leave will also be paid time as well.” 
Logan could kiss the man if he could. Tears pooled in his eyes and he could only manage a small thank you. Your hand rested on his shoulder in comfort. He just couldn’t wait to see him again. 
“Looks like that is everything. Are you two ready to sign?” 
Yours and Logan’s heads nodded eagerly as pens were uncapped. There was light scratching for a few moments as you filled out the needed information on the multiple sheets of paper. Once everything was completed, you let out a sigh of relief. You and Logan could finally do this. 
Marissa showed up at the right moments with a few different beverages. You took one of the iced americanos, claiming that Italian espresso was, in fact, the best kind. Logan surprised you as he took a mimosa. 
He side-eyed you. 
“It’s freshly squeezed orange juice and you cannot go wrong with it. It’s a classic.”
You held you drink up and your other hand in mock surrender. 
Michael took a black coffee and sipped it. 
“Now, onto the fun stuff.” 
Your eyebrows pinched. “Fun stuff?” 
Michael smirked before pulling up a projector that was attached to his laptop. He started to click through the slides. 
“First, the car.” 
On the slide was a sleek yellow and black livery. The black really highlighted the tamer yellow. 
Michael pointed at it. 
“This is our 2024 livery. We designed it awhile back, but it’s finally going to be used.” 
You let out a whistle as a video played the engine noise. To you, it sounded fast. You had been able to do a few laps with an actual car to get the feel of it since IndyCar were so much different. Michael claimed though that you were a natural in the car, being able to command it to what you needed it to do. Logan was quite the same. 
The next slide showed multiple models of Lamborghinis. With it came a smirk from the sister and brother pair. 
Logan looked at them. 
“I don’t know whether to be excited about the smirks or nervous.” 
Marissa was the one to pull up something on her personal iPad. She showed the official Lamborghini website. 
“Because the two of you will now technically ambassadors for Lambo as well, you two need to pick out what models the two of you would like to own. For now, we can start with one, but Tonino wanted his drivers to start a small collection.” 
You made her pause. 
“Tonino, as in, Tonino Lamborghini?” 
Marissa sent a gentle smile to calm you down. 
“Yes. Mr. Tonino will be at quite a few races to watch. He has mentioned wanting to see Ferrari fail, but our data is saying that although we look promising, there’s not guarantee.” 
Logan exhaled sharply. 
“No pressure right?” 
Michael leaned forward over the desk. 
“Listen to me Logan. You have been with a team that has now destroyed every bit of self-confidence. Mr. Tonino is actually the one who put your name on my radar. If you’re good enough for him, you need to believe that you’re good enough for everyone else.” 
Logan was taken back. Mr. Tonino was the one to bring him up? He felt honored in a good way. A nod of his head let Michael and Marissa know that they could continue. Logan turned your way, only to find you already smiling at him. He hoped that he could always be on the receiving end of that smile. 
Marissa continued where she left off. 
“Just look over the models and customize it however you’d like. We’ll get it sent to the factory to be made in time for the first race in Bahrain. These cars will be shipped along with our supplies so you can always have them.” 
You smirked. “I’ve always wanted a black Lamborghini Aventador.” 
Logan turned to Marissa. “I’d love a black Lamborghini Huracan.” 
A smile grew on your face. “Aw, Logan. We’ll get matching Lambos.” 
Logan thought that if you had been an emoji, you’d be the one with the big teary eyes and a pout. Marissa looked pleased at the requests for the different models. 
You raised your hand. “Do we need to start looking for places to stay here in Milan?” 
Michael lifted his eyebrows. 
“You don’t actually. Between races, the two of you are more than welcome to either go home or adventure somewhere. We will let you know when it is crucial to come back here to do some testing. Housing is provided when you need to be here. There are multiple estates that can be used on bought property.” 
You and Logan definitely liked the sound of that. Maybe you could stay in close villas or something. Or maybe in the same place as you tended to get lonely. That’s what being pushed out of everything does to someone in a year. You can’t remember the last time that you were invited to do something with the team, always retreating to your small hotel room after a race. You feel as though Logan might feel the same. 
Michael moved to the next slide, showing the race suits. 
“These are the suits for the season. Black or white fireproofs will go well with them. Helmets are up to the two of you. You will need on standard for some races and then you can choose what races you want fun ones to be. Miami, Austin, Las Vegas, and Imola are going to be considered our home races.” 
“What about Monza?” Logan questioned. 
Michael had a glint in his eyes. 
“That will forever belong to the Tifosi I’m afraid.” 
You decided to pipe up. 
“Or Charles Leclerc. I feel like wherever he goes, the Tifosi goes with him. You make him trade teams, the Italians will follow him.” 
Logan shot you a teasing look. 
“You always have to bring him up in one way or another.” 
You shrugged. 
“He’s a good driver. Let’s not bring up that you’re such a fanboy for Max Verstappen of all people.” 
Logan’s torso shifted. 
“It’s not every day that one beats Sir Lewis Hamilton and take away his 8th championship!” 
Laughs erupted from Michael and Marissa, making you and Logan pause. You cleared your throat. 
“Sorry, please continue.” 
Michael went a bit further with the slides, going over compatible data to the car. He went over sponsors and things like that before he finally leaned back into his chair. 
“Are we able to drive the cars today?” 
Much like you were, Logan was itching to be back behind the wheel. And hopefully, the wheel belonged to a reliable car. 
Michael stood from where he sat, making you and Logan also rise to your feet. 
“I’d thought you’d never ask,” he said, making his way to the door. When the two of you didn’t follow, he turned back around. 
“Are you ready for it?” 
lamborghini_racing has posted
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Lamborghini_racing Are you ready for it?
liked by y/n.nation, logang2, box_box_express, and 4,205,095 others
l4mbo.child a hello or how are you doing WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE
f1_fan I fear they have gagged the entire grid with this
ferrariforza damn, I thought we had the best livery - sorry kings 👑
lambo_drivers all I'm asking is who is going to be driving this beast?
lo-girlies do I even utter his name in fear that it might not happen?
y/nfan or even utter her name?
thepaddock_person who 🤨
childofF1 I'll say it - LOGAN AND Y/N FOR LAMBO 2024
box_box_express the paint, the yellow, the black, the lighting, THE EVERYTHING
taylorswiftxf1 I see the admin is a Taylor fan??
phoenix95 has posted
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phoenix95 baby let the games begin
liked by venus2, Lamborghini_racing, y/n.nation, dior, and 2,195,086 others
4theF1_girlies EXCUSE MEEEEEEE
driver95 ayo - we got the Lightning McQueen number with a queen
lambo_duo oh gosh I hope I live to see the day that they reveal their drivers
venus2 looking snazzy 😎
phoenix95 no one ever says that anymore
venus2 🥺
phoenix95 fine...thank you
venus2 🥰
venusxphoenix WHOEVER THEY ARE - THEY HAVE MY HEART
rising_phoenix95 immediate fan
lambo_child the Aventador is such a slay 💅
lambof1 I wonder if they have like matching cars with their contracts
venus2 has posted
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venus2 let the games begin now
liked by phoenix95, marissa_andretti, Lamborghini_racing, and 4,205,850 others
lambof1 I THINK I CALLED IT?? THE MATCHING BLACK CARS
pitstop_nightmare I'M SORRY FERRARI BUT THIS IS TOO SEXY
lamborghinivsferrari THE HURACAN 🥵😱
c16_leclerc I'm guessing they went to Charles's school of serving cunt
hamilton44lewis and graduated with a degree in slay
phoenix95 that's sexy baby
venus2 thanks 😚
phoenix95 ...I was talking about the car?
venus2 sure...sure you were 😈
box_box_express I feel like I have some sleuthing to do - hold please
logansarg2 I miss Logan so much - it's heartbreaking to see all of his accounts go dark, I guess I'll have to stan this dude instead
y/n.nation I miss our girl so much
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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monimccoythings · 2 months
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Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)
This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.
This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.
All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.
Tw: mentions of death
tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog
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Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.
The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.
You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.
He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.
Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.
Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.
When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.
Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)
Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.
Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.
It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.
You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.
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moon-rivr · 4 months
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for the first time
part two of still beating
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pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: smut, oral (f receiving), somehow even more angst, death, blood
author’s note: should i be mentally preparing for the ‘when i catch you ricky’ comments 🌚 all jokes aside, thank you for all the suggestions that you guys sent <3
word count: 4.1K
still beating (part one)
Leaving the Spider Society was much easier than you expected it to be, nobody really questioning you out of the belief that it was because of what Miguel had done. While seeing his face around the building everyday wasn't exactly the most pleasant feeling, the main reason as to why you'd left was to be able to carry out the pregnancy in peace. You wanted to rid yourself of the stresses that came along with being in the society, those including the ones that were caused by your coworkers. You started the process of removing yourself from the society slowly, starting out with coming into the building less and less. Before anyone could realize what your intentions had been, you had already left.
"Make sure you come to visit us, okay? We can't wait to see you with the baby," Gwen told you as you were getting ready to leave everything behind. You knew that hiding out in your universe was too risky, that it would be the first place that Miguel would ever think to look for you so you decided to take refuge in another universe. "I'll do that, stay safe. And take care of each other," you responded, her arms wrapping around your torso ever so gently. After the initial interaction that the both of you had, the two of you started going out for lunch and hosting game nights with Hobie and Pav. You glanced over at Hobie who leaned against the wall, knowing that he'd be less receptive towards a hug.
You extended your hand out, his engulfing yours as he dapped you up. "Take care of yourself, lass. And of the lil one there," Hobie told you as he let go of your hand, getting off from the wall before glancing over at Gwen. They were about to leave before you decided to call out to them once more, a small smile on your face as you looked at them. "Thank you for everything, You guys didn't need to show me the kindness that you did," you told them, a curt nod from both of them in response before they walked away. You looked down at the small duffel bag you'd packed with a few pairs of clothes and some bare necessities, wondering if this was the best decision though you already knew the answer, tapping some buttons on your gizmo to open up a portal.
Before you could leave the universe, you knew that there was something that you should do first. You ended up at an apartment on the Lower East Side, nimble fingers knocking on the door as you waited for some type of response. After waiting for what seemed to be around five minutes, you decided to turn around and start to head back home when you heard the door open. Miguel's girlfriend before you stood in front of the door, her expression painted with annoyance as she looked at you. You'd considered if this was truly a good idea for a couple minutes before coming here, ultimately deciding that you should at least offer her an apology for your actions.
"Come in," she finally spoke up for a minute, almost like she was expecting Miguel to appear behind you. You stepped into her apartment, immediately getting welcomed by the smell of wood burning at the fire place. You glanced over at the sofa she was sitting at, your eyes silently asking her if you could take a seat. She nodded, motioning for you to take a seat and so you did. "I'm sorry about what I did to you. I should've respected you and your relationship at the time but I let my selfish desires get the best of me," your apology came out a bit awkward, but it was genuine.
"I'm not sure that Miguel or I respected our relationship all that much at the time, but you're right. It was really fucking awful seeing him with you, acting the way that I wanted him to for months," she responded, folding her arms across her chest. "With that being said, I acknowledge the courage that it must've taken you to come here and I respect the fact that you're willing to look me in the eye to apologize. But I don't forgive you," she added, making your head lower a bit in shame. "You're completely entitled to that. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry about the way things went down. And I hope that you don't think him cheating was a reflection on you, you seem like a very lovely person," you finished up, getting up from the couch after you finished speaking.
You knew that expecting forgiveness was a bit of a long stretch, but at least you felt that weight of guilt lifted off of you the slightest bit. As you stepped out on the street, you tapped a couple buttons on your gizmo to a random universe before taking off your watch when the portal appeared. You stepped inside, unsure of what to expect out of the new environment that you would be living in from now on. The universe that you'd landed on only had a few minor differences such as tree placement and the billboards that were present, otherwise remaining a perfect copy of Earth-928. You made your way down the streets, finding that the streets were the same as what they used to be. You stopped in front of the coffee shop that you used to frequent, deciding to get yourself a drink.
You weren't trying too hard to forget about what Miguel had made you feel, but you felt all the air leave your lungs as you looked at this version of him. It felt exactly like the first time you'd seen him, only now with the previous memories of what the other one had done. You'd bumped into him after you were making your way out of the coffee shop, your cup spilling to the floor as a result. This version of him looked like he was 25-26, still in graduate school based off the books he was gripping so tightly in his arms. "Sorry about that, are you okay?" He asked, your eyes drifting up to his face. "I'm okay, sorry about bumping into you. I wasn't paying attention," you lied to him, rubbing the back of your neck.
The truth was, you'd seen him walking out of the Alchemax building across the street and you decided to do the most logical thing, put yourself in his way and 'bump' into him. "Since you spilled your coffee, I can make it up to you by buying you a new one," he suggested, his eyes darting from your spilled cup back to your face. "You don't have to do that, it was my fault," you responded, feeling slightly guilty for the way that you'd chosen to approach this version of Miguel. While you knew that they shared essentially everything about their physical appearance in common, you also knew that you had to approach them as two different people rather than using methods you used on the other Miguel to compensate.
"Well yes, I know that I technically don't have to do anything. But I'm suggesting it to you because I want to," he added, stepping off to the side and opening the door of the coffee shop for you. You stepped inside as he followed suit behind you, standing in the line with you. "I'm Miguel, it's nice to meet you. I can't help but feel like maybe I’ve seen you before," he spoke up after a while, the line moving slowly. You told him your name and dismissed away his concern by telling him that you had a very generic face. "I don't think so, you have the kind of face that's hard to forget. your aura's very.. alluring," he responded to that before the barista called the both of you over.
The two of you sat down, the exchange a bit awkward as you stirred at your coffee with your straw. "What are you studying?" You decided to break the silence and ask him a couple questions about himself, taking a sip from your coffee. "I'm majoring in genetics at Alchemax, though my undergrad was mostly biology based. and you, what'd you study for?" He asked, leaning over the table slightly as you told him your answer. "So why genetics?" You followed up, hoping that he'd be more receptive to answering questions about himself than his other version was.
"Frankly, the main reason I chose to get into genetics was because my father works at Alchemax so I kind of grew up around that environment. But I want to make some kind of change in the world and the way that diseases are managed rather than take advantage of the resources that are given like most geneticists end up doing," he explained, allowing you to get a glimpse of just how protective and caring he seemed to be past his exterior.
The conversation flowed easily between the two of you, having you delve into some details about your life without elaborating too much on where you were from before he had told you that he had to go. "Sorry about that, i have to go pick up my brother Gabriel from soccer practice since I took the car today. I'd love to talk to you more if you're down, Do you mind giving me your number?" he told you before he he left, looking at you expectantly. You hadn't even thought about that aspect moving into this universe, your mind rushing to make up an excuse that didn't make you seem uninterested in him. "I just got my phone stolen actually. I'm about go get a new one though, if you want to give me your phone number instead," you responded, watching as he grabbed a napkin and a pen to scribble down his number.
Despite the fact that you'd rushed off to buy a cell phone after your interaction with Miguel, you couldn't help but feel hesitant as you played with the paper he'd given you. The knowledge that you were an anomaly in this universe wasn't lost upon you, that even with every breath that you took, you were threatening the balance of this universe and the natural flow of events. You knew that just by texting Miguel at this moment, you'd possibly be disturbing with the stability of the canon. But no matter how wrong it felt to do it, being around him and talking to him just felt so right and easy.
You: Hey, it's the girl from the coffee shop :-) it was really nice talking to you
Miguel: Hey! I was looking forward towards your text, I really had a good time with you today. I hope you don't mind me being forward but would you like to hangout some other time?
You: Before we do, there's actually something I have to disclose to you.
Miguel: Oh no, you're an alien right?
You: Not quite LOL, just pregnant.
You bit down on your lower lip as you waited for a text back from him, feeling uneasy at the way he would react. You counted down the seconds as he typed out his response, anticipation building up as you saw the bubbles appearing on your screen.
Miguel: That doesn't change my opinion on you, I still want to get to know you better if the baby daddy doesn't have any objections towards that.
You: No, you don't have to worry about that, he's not in the picture.
Miguel: Okay, well there's this Italian restaurant with really good pasta on 80th street. I'm free on Saturday at 7 if that works for you.
You: See you then :)
The first date with Miguel went better than you'd expected, the rush of excitement that you'd felt when seeing him the first time sticking throughout the whole experience. Dates between the two of you were simple, having a good time no matter where the two of you ended up. He made you sure to be consistent with the attention that he was giving you after that despite the many commitments in his life, such as finishing up grad school, having an internship at Alchemax, and tutoring a kid named Peter Parker. He made sure to bring you your favorite flowers at the beginning of each new date, often spoiling you with whatever you had a craving for that day. A couple of months had passed since you had started the relationship with Miguel, the feeling of bliss never ending whenever you were with him.
The two of you were out walking in the street after catching a movie, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he held you close to him. "Miguelll, I'm kinda hungry for some Chipotle. I have such a craving for Mexican food," you whined, feeling your stomach grumble afterwards. "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just say Chipotle was Mexican food and move on to my next point. They just closed so you're gonna have to pick somewhere else," he answered, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It's called Chipotle Mexican Grill," you countered, hearing him let out a small groan. "I can take you back to my place. I made some carne guisada earlier," he suggested, your mouth watering at just the anticipation. (stewed meat)
"This is like the best thing ever," you practically moaned out as you bit into the piece of meat that he'd given you. "Better than Chipotle, you'd say?" He asked, sitting down across from you as you ate. "Definitely. I mean, I like chipotle but for some reason their beans always make me have to go to the bathroom," you responded, not really measuring your words as you spoke. "Well, my food's never been the result of anyone's chorro so I think you'll be good," he told you, pouring you a small glass of water before setting it down. "Where'd you learn how to cook like this?" You inquired, watching as brows knitted together before he spoke again. "My mom's Mexican so there was always that sort of element around the house. I ended up visiting a couple years back and I sort of learned the cuisine from the locals."
You and Miguel were laying down in bed after dinner, his head in between your legs since he'd read somewhere that orgasms were good for the cramps that you'd been having. "Miguel, would you still like me if I was a worm?" You asked him, feeling his tongue circle around your clit before stopping. "You're asking me this right now?" He asked, looking up at you as his fingers went inside of you. "Yes. More specifically, a pregnant worm," you elaborated, a small chuckle coming out of his mouth as he shook his head. "Yes, I’d love you even if you were a pregnant worm. I'd stick you in my pocket and take you to work. Feed you little insects and whatnot," he responded, his mouth going back to what it was doing before.
Your mouth parted as you felt his tongue running across your folds, collecting the slick that'd been dripping out from his ministrations. You felt yourself unraveling with every stroke of his tongue, your pleasure being his priority in the moment as he plunged his fingers deep into your cunt. You felt yourself clench around the two fingers he had inside of you, your slick coating them to provide with an easier access. "Don't stop, please," you begged, feeling yourself approaching that familiar point of an orgasm. "Don't worry nena, I wasn't planning to," he told you, keeping the same pace as he worked you through your orgasm. Your fingers fisted at his hair, hitting your peak just a couple seconds later.
You woke up the next morning, feeling incredibly relieved. you weren't too sure if Miguel was right about the orgasms or if it was simply because you'd slept near him, but you didn't have it in you to question it. He'd gotten up earlier than you, already dressed in a button down and and jeans by the time you were up. "I can leave if you want me to. I don't want to impose," you told him, getting up from the bed as you tried to fix up your sleep ridden appearance. "I don't mind, you can stay here. I think I'll be home late from work but I'll send you a message to confirm later. Te quiero, stay safe," he told you, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead before he went out to his class.
A lingering feeling followed you throughout the evening, a feeling of impending doom and misery. You’d been helping out around the city when you weren’t with Miguel but you'd chosen to skip out on patrolling the city tonight, figuring that the Spider-Man of this universe could handle the task and decided to treat yourself a bit with some snacks from a bodega near by. You looked down at your phone, biting down at your bottom lip as you scrolled through the vast majority of texts that Miguel had sent you. He'd simply told you that he would be staying late today because he had something to finish up at work but the more time that passed, the more that your concern grew. Seven o'clock turned into eight, eight turning into nine.
You didn't want to be that type of clingy partner, but you grabbed a spare key card and decided to go pay Miguel a visit at work to make sure he was doing okay. The sounds of sirens distracted you from your worry, the police car practically zooming down the street as other cars opened up a pathway for it to pass. You weren't sure what it was, whether it was a form of intuition or simply just a gut feeling, but you decided to follow that cop car. Police tape had been set up at the scene where the cop car stopped at, a crowd building up around it. The snacks that you'd eaten earlier began to taste bitter in your mouth as you made your way through the crowd, eyes widening as you saw the person laying there.
Your airway felt constricted as you looked down at the floor, seeing Miguel on the floor with a gunshot wound to his chest. You could feel people looking at you as you struggled to breathe, but your attention was solely on the man lying in the cold pavement while the police waited for the coroner to arrive. "Ma'am?" A police officer asked, wanting to evaluate the situation before making any sudden movements. "Please, let me through. That's my boyfriend," you pleaded, managing to get the words out despite how heavy your tongue felt in your own mouth. Your caution about getting caught by this universe's Spider-Man went out the window, simply concerned about assessing Miguel. The officer asked one of his partners if all the evidence was collected before letting you into the scene.
You got down on the pavement, practically on your knees as your hand reached over to grab Miguel's. The usual warmth that he exuded was gone, simply replaced by the cold reminder of death. You kept looking over at him, almost expecting him to rise and tell you that it was just a cruel joke and that everyone had been in on it. You looked down at the puddle of blood that built up around him, the life escaping from his body with every liter that he'd lost. The police explained to you that according to the security footage from a store nearby, he got cornered by a couple men in a ski mask in the alley. They'd threatened him for his wallet and other personal belongings, shooting him when he'd resisted far too much. You reached into his pockets, finding out that they’d taken his things after they’d shot him which meant the resistance he’d put up had been for naught.
You knew that Miguel's death was a canon event for the Spider-Man of this universe, that losing a mentor was necessary for the self-perseverance that Peter had building up but you didn't understand why it had to be your Miguel. You'd never felt so useless and guilty in your life, thinking about how maybe you've could've stopped this if you'd just gone on patrol for the night. Though it might've done more harm to the universe than good, you wanted to be selfish and just feel Miguel's embrace one more time. Feel the warmth of his hugs as he held you close to his chest, his head resting on top of yours.
Tears streamed down your cheeks as you forced yourself to trudge forward and head home before you ended up getting robbed in the middle of the street too. Left foot forward, right foot follow. You felt yourself having to make the involuntary movements that your body naturally made, the exhaustion of the day taking its toll on you. You stopped in the middle of the street, feeling a burning sensation in your throat as you leaned over to vomit. You weren't sure if it was the snacks that you'd had earlier or an effect of what you'd seen earlier, possibly a combination of the both of them. When you stood up straight and wiped away the vomit from your face, your attention immediately went to the portal appearing in front of you.
Talons ripped the ends of the portal, almost like the person behind it was too impatient to wait for it to open. Miguel came out and looked over at you, deactivating the head piece of his costume just so you could see the annoyance that this little stunt had caused him. "We need to talk," he told you, making it seem like you were in rather for a scolding than having a simple conversation. His eyes flickered down to the little bump on your belly, his eyes softening just the slightest bit before he looked up at you with that cold expression once more. There was nothing promising in this universe for you anymore, so you decided to follow him back to the Spider Society.
Miguel led you to his office once the two of you arrived back at the society, the stares and whispers of the other members following suit. "LYLA, don't have anyone bother me right now," Miguel spoke up, his assistant appearing and nodding before disappearing off once more. You waited for him to say something to you, anything to make this conversation go faster so you didn't have to be in the same room with him much longer. The sensation of wanting to be the furthest away from him right now felt foreign to you, especially when you often longed for the moment that he would pay some attention to you even if it was only for a couple seconds. "Do you have any idea of the damage that you could've done to that universe had you interfered with any canon event?!"
Seeing Miguel's anger felt strange to you, always having seen it directed towards someone else rather than towards you. You weren't sure if you should try to give him your explanation or let him yell it out, choosing to go for the first option. "Nothing happened though! At least nothing that wasn't supposed to," You responded, starting to feel a bit lightheaded. You padded over to a spare chair he had in his office, his back hunching over his desk the same way you'd seen many times before. "I want to be mad for you for doing such a stupid thing but I realize that i'm the one that led you to that," he spoke up after a couple seconds, facing you once more as he rubbed a hand through his chest.
You were expecting for that to be the end of the 'conversation', standing up from your spot to leave his office. "Hou don't know how hard it was to look at you through those monitors and see you getting the attention you deserved from a variant of myself. You don't know how much I longed for that to be me, to be me that you called when you had a craving for Chipotle in the middle of the night or be the one that you confided in," he spoke up before you had the chance to leave, your head turning so fast that you almost gave yourself whiplash. "You could've had that. Everything that happened was your fault," you replied, your voice showing no remorse for what happened. "You think I don't know that? I’m well aware of what I did, but I still selfishly want to be a part of your life and the baby’s," His voice sounded pained as he spoke, his figure approaching you slowly.
"Please. Just give me the chance to be in our baby's life. That's all I ask of you," he pleaded,  desperation evident from the way that he looked at you with such longing. "You have some nerve still asking for something from me! Do you expect me to forget about everything and want me to co-parent with you?!" Your voice boomed through the empty office, your voice bouncing through the walls as they made their way into Miguel's ears. "Please, I'm begging you. I just want the opportunity to be a father to our baby," he added, reaching out to grab you before his hands fell slack by his sides. "NO!" You responded, a sudden pop coming out between your legs as a gush of liquid followed suit.
@mimiemie @laysmt @6thhokageswife @mochimoqa @nifeout @loonalockley @syrzx
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silasours · 19 days
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ৎ⸝⸝⠀DETECTIVE AND MURDERER IN HELL . —
#pairing : alastor x gn reader. #cw : may include adult content. enemies to lovers trope. #summary : you were a detective when you were a human! but uh oh, you died.. and you meet the target that you were on to before your death? #note : I feel bad for not posting for so long, here's a little sneak peek at what I'm working on! i received this prompt from an anon in my inbox and do i love it very much. i have so many ideas for this fic, it'll be my first ever long fic on this blog! i'll reply to the ask once I'm done with the fic :3
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“my, isn’t it my favorite detective!” you hear a static, loud voice speak from behind you. you quirk a brow, slowly turning your head to see a demon that somehow resembles a deer. a red deer, that is. he wears this wide smile that stretches from ear to ear, his whole attire so formal it makes you question if you’re underdressed. he holds a cane in his hands; it looks like a speaker that he got custom-made. confusion bubbles inside of you, and multiple questions float across your mind. who is this man, that so happens to know what you work as when you were still alive?
and, out of all demons, why are you his favorite?
“I’m sorry, but have we met?” you turn your body to face him fully, your eyes scanning from head to toe wondering if it’s just a fuzzy memory of yours. the demon steps closer to you, a sense of uneasiness instantly rushes through your veins. you shudder suddenly..
“aha, of course we have! you were even so interested in me back when we were alive!” his words only made your confusion grow. you, being interested in someone? in what way? your work has never allowed you any extra space to catch feelings for anyone around you, so surely it’s not a crush unless you’ve misunderstood. It’s like he read your thoughts, he quickly adds in with a light chuckle.
“constantly trying to gather information about me, pinpointing my location, guessing my next move. fun times! I truly enjoyed watching you do so.” something clicked in your head. so this demon was presumably a target of yours before he died, but how could you know exactly which? you had so many targets, so many psychopaths you had to track down and lock them up for good. though, something about his deer features brings a blurry memory of a specific target that you currently can’t quite put a name to his face.
everyone in the hotel watches your interaction with the red demon quietly. the air is tense, nobody dared to breathe any harder than they are now. charlie is the most anxious one out of everyone in the room; angel is starting to doubt whether he should’ve brought you back to the hotel. but, surely, the manager is smarter than to kill off someone interested in staying, no?
“care to remind me which one are you?” your hands instinctively hide themselves in your pockets as a habit. your tone isn’t as friendly as it was when you spoke to the others, and the demon is loving the reaction he’s getting from you.
“gladly, my dear friend! i’d say my case was the one you spent the most time on,” you suddenly feel a strong tug on your hand before realizing that you’re shaking hands with the demon. his smile widens as you grow more uncomfortable. “the name’s alastor! pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! I was there to witness your lovely slash boring death,”
you pull your hand back from his grasp, face scrunching at the mention of your death. he witnessed your death? what is he hinting? Is he trying to tell you that it was he who took the life of yours?
“I watched as you were murdered by one petty man i convinced, it was one of the most boring deaths i’ve ever seen! but dear, was i disappointed that you’ll never be able to put a close to my case when i thought you’d do better at fighting back.” you freeze suddenly, blood running cold from your face as he carries on.
“I was the last target you had before dying, it was a joy toying with you like a little mouse.”
so that’s what all the familiarity you felt was. his demeanor and personality, all that was jotted down in the notebook you had for research. he matches everything you wrote; you remember word by word from the number of times you’ve reread it, the times at night when you’re desperate to finally put the case to a stop. you feel anger and disgust pound in your chest, feet stepping back a couple of times.
he’s the reason why you died. you stare at his mocking smile, his expression that clearly shows his enjoyment while watching your reaction. a growl bubbles from your chest, and you see the spider demon hesitantly approach you. he stays beside you, rubbing his arm nervously while trying to think of a reason to pull you away from this scene.
“I died because of you,” you breathe out, body shaking not from fear but anger and realization. you suddenly leap forward when angel is about to reach out for your arm, your fingers curl tightly around the collar of alastor’s shirt. his smile only widens at your actions, a light hum that slides out so smoothly and audibly. “and it was purely for fun?” it’s even possible to notice every small feature you have on your face from how close you’ve pulled his face to yours. you earn a mere shrug from the demon.
“woah! babes, hey, calm down would’ja? let’s head somewhere else.” you feel a tug at your arm, but you don’t budge. you want to hurt this demon, to beat him until he’s curled up into a ball on the ground, but you can’t. there’s something holding you back, something telling you to not go any further than what you’re currently doing. he reeks of danger and mystery, hell knows what would he do to you if you were to cross his line. with another growl, you harshly push him away and he stumbles back a few steps with a small ‘oh!’.
angel sees this and takes the chance to quickly drag you away from the scene, and you let him. Everyone in the hall watches angel drag you all the way to the kitchen until alastor is out of your sight. his clawed fingers release your arm, a concerned gaze fixated on your slumping figure as you let out a deep sigh while pressing your face onto the surface of your palms.
now, you’ll really have to think it through whether you want to stay in this hotel. having so many things to take in so suddenly messes up your thoughts, something you’re unfamiliar with considering how you’re always sharp and organized.
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© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.
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ciellunee · 5 months
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hey hi hello could u do a fic with toji fushiguro and maybe gojo?
one of them (or both 🤭) with a reader who has a very big attitude. like always making up comebacks, acting like a diva, etc. she also has really great hair and outfits. it can be sfw or nsfw—whichever one works better.
Hey! I hope you're doing good✨️ enjoy reading and keep requesting♡
Bratty reader x jjk men
Includes - Toji fushiguro, Gojo satoru
Tw⚠️- contains NSFW 🔞 minors dni
☆Toji fushiguro☆
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At first, he's charmed by your attitude. Nobody ever dared to talk to him like that, but you, you were different.
You're gorgeous. He's in awe of the way you present yourself. From your hair to clothes, your figure and personality, everything is charismatic. Cherry on top is that attitude of yours. You know just what to say. Sometimes, it hurts his ego, but mostly, he enjoys that cute little smirk you have with every spicy comeback.
"Tojiiii, you always have to work on weekends," you whined. 'Some people need to work in order to earn money princess, unlike some who'll laze around the house munching on chips and then complaint they're getting fat.' He shot you a devilish smirk.
"Funny how you're still living under my roof when you work, and I laze around" getting closer to his ears you whisper - ' talk to me like that again and you'll be sleeping on street'
Acting like a brat? He'll make sure he punishes you.
◇NSFW◇
Toji fushiguro doesn't play when it comes to punishments.
He knows how to knock some discipline into your bratty self.
Will pound you from behind and makes you look in the mirror while you continually repeat- "I'm sorry daddy, I've been a brat!"
Degradation is toji's kink. Asks you to repeat things like 'who's sl*t you are' and makes you beg for forgiveness.
Fucks you hard all night until you pass out from all the orgasms you've had.
"Next time make sure your cu*t can keep up with your mouth princess"
☆Gojo satoru☆
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Satoru is fun loving when it comes to you. He adores you so damn much that it doesn't matter how bratty you get sometimes.
One thing everyone knows about satoru is that, he's a very jealous man. He knows you're gorgeous. Your shiny locks, elegant clothing and beautiful skin....everything about you makes him crazy.
"Babyyyyyyy!! I miss your cuddles, you're always so busy" satoru groans. 'I can stop working as soon as you stop leaving your damn work unattended' you shrug.
"You're so mean I bet utahime would treat me alot more sweetly" he smirks. He's petty and he knows that. 'And I am pretty sure Kento would be my ideal match. He never complaints, always have my back, he's a great cook and above all......he's so hot!'
This was enough to throw satoru off the table. You're a mean brat and he NEEDS to cater to that.
◇NSFW◇
"Yeah?? Want to cum babygirl" your moans are slippery and eyes filled with tears. 'Toru ple-please' you whined.
Satoru edges you the whole night, reminding you who he his. "You're always so wet for me"
Asks you to moan his name louder and louder so that you know who's making you feel so good. Loves it when your mind breaks and the only thing you can think about or speak about his him.
"Weren't so sweet a while back? You think kento can take care of you like this? You think kento can make you feel like this? You think kento can make this cunt throb this much?"
Edges you to the climax multiple times but removes his hands until you cry and beg for his forgiveness.
I'll let you cum once I feel you're truly sorry. Till then....let's see how much this pu*sy can endure.
Tags- @brunette-bitch77
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red-write-hand · 3 months
Text
"You're killing people?" "No, I'm killing boys." || thomas shelby x assassin!reader
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pairing -> thomas shelby x assasssin!fem!reader
word count -> 2.5k (this took me two weeks)
warnings -> i was watching jennifer's body while i was writing the beginning and i think it accidentally started to seep into my writing, bisexuality??, hella tension, maybe some ooc tommy???, assassin stuff, a lot of dirty thoughts (i mean a lot)
notes -> yeah jennifer's body was a reeeally big influence of this. i had a good idea but this could have died, sorry yall!! also no beta read, we die like peaky fookin' blinders
REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE LITERALLY SO HELPFUL Y'ALL HAVE NO IDEA
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An assassin is defined as someone who is paid to kill someone. In this business, you need to pay a handsome price to kill someone as important as Thomas Shelby. It wouldn’t be easy but no one saw a beautiful woman as someone who could kill you, but then again, that was usually the same people who called her sweetheart when passing her in the street. The very same people who would never be able to harass another woman after her. Y/n cut down any man that would hinder her fellow woman. Women too, if she viewed them as a threat. She was completely innocuous. She looked like every washerwoman in Birmingham. No one ever thought she was the one who was slowly taking out Peaky Blinders one by one. 
No one saw her go in and no one saw her leave. It was easy for her. Men were becoming easier and easier for her to manipulate. Really, this is truly why she was bisexual. Women were truly better but sometimes she would find that one man who saw her. Saw her for what she was. A soldier who didn't know how to stop what she was doing. She had gotten so good at it that every time that she wanted to stop, another high paying aristocrat or politician would waltz in and give her a stack of cash to do away with their competition and she knew that her rent was due so just had to keep going. She was also supporting her family, all the family she had left after the war. She had grown up with brothers and most had gone to war and come back changed. There was nothing she could do about it. She just had to keep her head held up high and persevere, and persevere she did. She began to get very good at petty crimes, and more importantly getting away with them. Another thing she got good at was blending into the background. Become a nobody. Someone that people could easily see through. An excellent cover for an assassin.
There was another part of her that wanted recognition. Y/N wanted that fame and fortune. Nothing that she could have. Women had to work twice as hard in this world. Especially in the business of murder. Then again, those feminist rallies kept yelling about fucking over the patriarchy, why not instead, poison the patriarchy? Slowly? Maybe in the night? Maybe a little murder could do the feminist cause some good. She seemed to know every woman in this tiny town. She really didn’t but it was quite fun to see the men worry that all the pretty women they felt up would disappear. No one knew she existed and everyone knew her name. She barely knew how everyone knew her name. Maybe she did have a bit of that fame and fortune business. She just hoped that it would lead to women feeling a little safer to walk the streets, knowing that they had a silent protector who was not against a little homicide in the name of female comradery. It always feels a little warmer when you know you have a friend protecting you with a knife in the back of her skirt. It was never outright said but it was only men that saw through her. Women knew she was there. This is why she never took jobs that meant hurting or killing women. If it was a husband, she would leave the money for the widow. She was not going to be an asshole about it. No matter what, she would make sure that no woman would go without help. 
She had no qualms about killing men. As much as she loved men, especially tall, dark, and handsome men, they can be a real pain to deal with sometimes. She tried to stay civil but really, how can straight women deal with them all the time? How do they not realize that the best part about married men are their wives?! And god, did the Shelby boys have the best pick of the women! God the women that hung around the Shelby betting shop were proper fit. Or maybe that’s just what drunk men said about them. 
Tonight was special. It would be the death date of Thomas Shelby. The people who had paid her to poison him and make it look like a suicide. The only thing was that he was at a gala. 
Great. 
Using some of her extra earnings and her pay from doing laundry, she bought herself a tight fitting dress and some sparkling jewelry. She stood in front of her mirror and surveyed her body. She wasn’t well endowed at all, really she was the most average looking woman in the country, but not tonight. Tonight she would be the prettiest girl in the room. Tonight she would kill two birds with one stone. She would wreck Thomas Shelby’s public image and she would actually kill the devil. Her. She would be the one to kill the Devil of Small Heath. Oh what joy it would be to sit back and watch the Peaky Blinders scuttle around like sewer rats after their god and king died. They would never know who killed him, well, they would think they knew. She would make it look like a suicide but really, that was easy to stage. She would cry along with everyone else and wipe her tears with the cash she would receive after this job was done.
Stepping out of the car, making sure her dress wasn’t flashing anyone, she made her way up the stairs to the Shelby charity gala. Her dress was short and her faux fur shawl was draped around her shoulders precisely so that she would get all the right looks. She had studied men for too long without knowing what they looked for. Sauntering onto the floor, looking for the guest of honor, her trained ears could pick up the hushed chatter. Everyone here thought she was a prostitute. Figures. A woman dresses the way she wants and people call her a whore. Maybe it's for the better. It would ruin his reputation even more. Be here and be seen talking with a woman who people gossiped was a prostitute? Perfection. She hadn’t even planned this bit.
Finding him was the easy part. Talking was harder. He was surrounded by donors and grifters trying to weedle their way into his pocket. He just hadn’t noticed her yet. She perched herself on the edge of a stool at the bar and ordered what she usually liked to drink on the job. A daiquiri. Easy and plain. Continuing to accentuate her inconsequentiality. She wrapped her crimson covered lips around the rim slowly, watching him circle the room and finally alighting his eyes on her. She turned on her bedroom eyes and ripped more of her drink as she crossed her legs. She was trying to go for ‘come over and see if I’ll take a chance on you’ but really, it was more like ‘come over here and I’ll ruin you before you can finish whatever drink you order to look more casual’. This had worked plenty of times before so she was fairly sure it would work on him. At his core, Thomas Shelby was still a man. A man with a cock. A cock that needed a lot more than a regular man, or so Lizzie Stark told her. She loved Lizzie. Whenever Thomas was done with her, Y/N would always offer her a place to stay and open arms for her to settle in. Stroking through her hair was somehow calming to both of them at the same time.
The room seemed to heat up as he got closer. It really was a toss up if he would guess what she was really here for. Tensing up, she could feel him behind her. Shifting her hair so that it cascaded down her shoulder wasn’t a huge issue but it did wonders for her confidence. Her breath got shallower but gathering all of her courage, her foot spun her barstool to face the looming figure of Thomas Shelby.
“What are you ‘ere for, eh?” The head Shelby took a drag from his cigarette. Giving Y/n a once over, he chuckled. She obviously wasn’t a prostitute but really, he wanted to see what her game was. He was not about to impede a fellow business person while they are trying to do business. She tried to compose herself, tried to keep herself from falling into the endless pools that were his eyes. Endless pools that would ultimately drag her down and bring her to ruin before she could drive her knife into his chest and put an end to the whole ordeal. She could do it right now. She could see the blood seep out of him and see that look of pain that she so dearly needed to see from him. That look of pain that would be payment for all the harm he and his family had caused. She pondered whether or not she should actually fuck him here and now or fake wanting to and kill him just to get it over with. All this nasty business, gross man blood getting on this amazing dress. 
“Here on business Mr. Shelby. Lizzie Stark gives her regards.” She would apologize to Lizzie later. Dear, dear Lizzie. Hopefully she would forgive Y/n for this later. She swung her legs around and walked closer to him, dragging a single hand down his chest. The easiest part of her job was having sex. She constantly thought about herself as a female protagonist written by a man made the process a little easier. Molding herself to the wants of the man. 
She just wanted to hide away from the world but right now she was on the clock. Laying the charm on heavy and batting her eyelashes. His heart was beating faster and faster. This was getting easier and easier. Now she was divided. It was taking too long. The longer it took, the more attached she got. This is one target she didn't want to get attached to.
“Just because you look fuckin’ gorgeous, doesn’t mean you can just-” She gently plucked the cigarette from his pink lips and took a drag herself. Under her other hand, his pulse raced faster. She beamed at him. This time, she was actually feeling some semblance of happiness. Taking a small step forward, she got as close as she could so the smoke, ebbing and flowing from the smoldering edge of the cigarette, would be the barrier between them. She felt a strong hand at her waist, the hand away from the crowd, so the interaction would still look inconspicuous. 
The cigarette hung her from her dark painted lips. They stood an inch away from each other. Each one wanted the other to move first. In his mind, he dreamed of slick thighs, breathy moans, painted breasts, fucked-out expressions, and those perfect gummy walls hugging his cock so well as she screamed in pleasure. In her mind, she dreamed of a perfectly executed mission…and nothing else. Definitely not his perfect jaw and how strong his hands felt at her waist. Definitely the way he was looking at her. Well, at least that meant she was doing what she did best correctly, but still…there was some part of her that had that morbid curiosity. Lizzie had told her what Tommy was like. Rough but loving. Rough enough to satiate himself but since he had taken all this effort to bring you here, he would not snap you in half. Maybe she could do that for one night. That would make a good story. ‘I spent the night with Thomas Shelby and survived’. Definitely something Lizzie would find funny.
Her mind just kept going back and forth in the span of a minute. Does she give in to her curiosity and see what the Devil of Small Heath would do to her or does she put on even more of a show just to ruin his reputation and then pull him outside to finish him off quietly. ‘Pun very much not intended.’ Truly, this was the worst situation to be punny. 
To try to keep her mind on the man in front of her, her eyes just kept alighting on his sturdy looking chest. There was something strangely mysterious about what lay under that perfectly pressed tux. Just to be able to slowly pull every layer off of him was tantalizing. Maybe she might. 
All of this took place in two minutes. They had gotten impossibly closer. His hands had started to slide down, slowly and even slower as she played with the edge of his tie. Oh how much fun it would be to pull him by his impeccable tie, just for him to land on top of her. This could be very fun.
His thoughts were undressing her, meticulously feeling every curve and every fold, kneading anywhere he could elicit a reaction, kissing, biting, anything she wanted. Feeling her under him. Hearing all those pretty noises as he devoured her completely. He knew that all she wanted to do was destroy his reputation but really? What’s so bad about having a little bit of fun? No one could comment because no one messed with the King. 
No one.
They were forcibly shoved together at the hip. His grip was harsh and she was grinning. Sliding the cigarette behind her ear, she gently, temptingly, tantalizingly brushed her plump lips against the edge of his jaw, leaving trace amounts of her lipstick and perfume with it. Giving him one more flash of her sultry eyes and ghosting her hand against his face, ever so delicately holding his jaw, she grabbed her clutch and escaped expertly from his grasp. But not slipping her number into his jacket pocket so he knew where to find her. This was a different kind of mission now. A longer game. A game where she would move up the ranks. Infiltrating the Shelby operation at every level. Finding out their secrets. Knowing what shouldn't be known. She’d make a pretty pound for what she would know. 
Of course, there was that added bonus. Now she had her snares in the most powerful man in Birmingham. Now she could manipulate him as she liked. She would make him fall for her completely. Make him promise her the world. Make him believe that she was what she told him. See her as she wanted him to see her. Control his judgment if someone decided to try to sow seeds of doubt into her darling. Making sure that when she was finally ready to stick the gilded knife in his back, that he would smile and tell her that he loved her one last time. Till next time Mr. Shelby, until next time.
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thank you for reading (and if you reblogged/commented, double thanks) !!
@birminghamshelbyboys @pinguwrites @forgottenpeakywriter @hanawrites404 @runnning-outof-time @no-fooking-fighting @no-1peakyfan @hllywdwhre @floralcyanide @cilldistilled @stridingseer @darlingsfandom @mrkdvidal1989 @lunavelha @aphroditeslover11 @henrywintersdearestgirl @thatwitchybitch420 @classicsandfantasy @marilynmonroefanfics @ninja-potato-shelby-solomons @scorpinelle @chellyrps @maxwell-demon @atrwriting @cassius-casim @your-nanas-house @sherwoodknights @munstysmind
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mcflymemes · 6 months
Text
AS SAID BY DORIAN PAVUS  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version
i don't care what they think about me. i care what they think about us.
i like you. more than i should. more than might be wise.
discretion isn't your thing, is it?
all this dancing, politics, and murder makes me a bit homesick.
i suppose it really depends. how bad do you want to be?
living a lie... it festers inside of you, like poison.
i'm a man of many talents. what can i say?
the moment i saw you, i thought "there's a man who knows quality."
if you don't come through this, i swear i'll kill you.
i'm curious where this goes, you and i. we've had fun. perfectly reasonable to leave it here.
here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.
i tease you too much, i know.
i'll have to find something we can do that doesn't involve teasing.
time to drink myself into a stupor. it's been that sort of day.
i see you enjoy playing with fire.
i like playing hard to get.
i'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity.
if it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. you're good at that.
talk to me. let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.
oh, i'm not arguing. just pointing out the ridiculously obvious.
if you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, i may or may not come.
now... what was i talking about? ah, yes. me.
i am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts.
i prefer the company of men.
would you prefer me bound and leashed?
sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most.
you are the man i love, [name]. nothing will truly keep us apart.
the things you ask are just... very personal.
sometimes... love isn't enough.
there will always be an "us." we'll just be... farther apart, for a time.
i had no idea something like you was possible.
i'm imagining what you would look like in a dress.
i've never seen you smile so much!
i have no idea what you're talking about.
you stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest.
you're shaping the world for good or ill. how could i aspire to do any less?
my footsies are freezing, thank you.
don't you ever bathe?
you're not suggesting we're similar.
watch where you're pointing that thing!
i'm not wearing a skirt.
it's significantly more impressive than hitting them with a sharp piece of metal.
i only meant to say i'm very sorry for your loss.
we can continue this dance forever, if you wish.
i'm saying we should be careful what we assume when it comes to such matters.
demons don't appreciate a man with good hair.
what i wouldn't give for some proper wine.
your outfit's entertaining. i'll give you that.
he had to leave early on account of assassination.
it's nice to know you have friends.
i'm here to do what is right.
come on, just answer the question.
they were asking me about you. personal things.
you said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. this is more like knee-high.
so what's your estimation? think we can win?
you can't call me pampered. nobody's peeled a grape for me in weeks.
you startled me. you're always so... nondescript.
you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.
i wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song. just once.
you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected.
i've never seen anyone in this part of the world do it.
i realize there's more to you than that.
have i offended you?
for hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.
i can't figure you out, [name].
you don't play their stupid game, they send an assassin or three your way.
i can't believe you're scared of magic.
i'm going to take that as a compliment.
still don't like me, [name]? after all this time?
[name], i owe you an apology.
i suspect people will use any excuse to hate us.
why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.
maybe you're not a complete moron.
i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.
it would take work. and soap. lots and lots of soap.
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misc-obeyme · 3 months
Note
Hi cc💕 could I request some mammon fluff headcanons 🥺🥺
Hi there, anon!
Of course you can, my friend. I'm sorry it took so long! But I actually feel like this turned out pretty okay? It's definitely fluffy at any rate. And what can I say, I love Mammon. I still don't know what it is about him.
Thank you for participating!
COZY COMFORTS EVENT
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GN!MC x Mammon
Warnings: none
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Everyone knows that Mammon is down bad for you. Even though he tries to play it off, he can't truly hide it from anyone. He will bluster and try to maintain his cool guy persona, but the reality is that no one is fooled. And the minute you're alone with him, it's like he becomes a different demon.
Mammon is a troublemaker, but he's also fun. When you first meet him, he's always scheming to find ways to make some fast Grimm. But as time goes on, he starts scheming about the best ways to make you smile. He comes up with some elaborate date ideas, taking you places that he thinks will impress you, constantly trying to outdo himself.
Despite this, he also enjoys a simple hang out. He'll take you in his car and just drive around the Devildom. He surprises you by stopping somewhere remote with a beautiful view of the city and the stars. Any time he wants you to himself, away from the chaos of his brothers, he asks if you want to go for a spin. You know this eventually leads to steamy make out sessions on the car hood because Mammon has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.
He's overprotective sometimes, but it makes you feel safe so you don't mind. If he ever feels like you're threatened in any way, he will immediately get between you and whatever the danger is. You have to talk him down occasionally, when a perceived insult from someone makes him start throwing punches.
Mammon likes to touch you. He needs the physical reassurance of your presence. He's always seeking out your hand or putting his arm around your shoulders. Even just sitting close to you is enough, your legs pressed together. If he can have his arms around you, he will. In quiet moments, when you're alone, he'll hold you as close as he can. He'll bury his face in your neck, taking in the feel of you, his grip almost desperate like he won't survive if he ever lets go.
It's at those times when he also finds he can't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. Words that he would never say where anyone else could hear. Words that he's kept bottled up for too long. Words that when he finally says them, he realizes he needs you to hear them. You listen and it's like stream of consciousness, almost incoherent, but there's no question that every word is about how much he loves you. About how important you are to him. About how he can't stand being apart from you.
He might even apologize. He knows it's his greed that makes him like this, too needy, too clingy, only wanting more. More of your time, more of your attention, more of your touch and your words and your soul - more of you. He might need your reassurance. Please, MC. Please tell him that ya don't mind. You hafta understand what ya do to him.
You do understand. You tell him as much, as often as he needs to hear it. You hold him close when he wants your touch. You stay beside him when he wants your time. You always answer when he calls you, always focus on him when he's with you. It turns out you've fallen just as hard for him as he has for you. Both of you are so lost in each other it starts to feel like nobody else even exists.
In those rare moments when you are apart, you can almost feel that red string of fate tying you together. When you enter a room that he's in, your eyes find him before anything else. And he's always looking right back at you, a bright grin on his face. When you're thinking of him, your D.D.D. will ding with a message where he's just saying hi. When you're in the human world, it feels like the universe is conspiring to bring the two of you back together.
Mammon will take you to parties and buy you expensive gifts that he worked hard to earn the Grimm for. He will make you feel like you've won the jackpot every day of your life. His favorite thing is to hear you laugh and to laugh with you.
He doesn't bother to think about how human you are. He has told you simply that he just wants to love you while you're still with him. Don't worry about the future. Not when he can have you right here, right now, safe in his arms.
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cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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celandeline · 2 months
Note
Okay this is my first time asking for a one shot so I hope this makes sense. Okay how about Farleigh and reader aren’t close friends but they are close like behind closed door (if you know what I mean) and like reader is sensitive. So one day Farleigh makes a joke about her without noticing she is there and like hurts her feelings. Like does that make sense obviously you can ignore this if you want. But you if you could write about the part where he is apologizing to her (smut will be great honestly), but you do whatever you want.
sorry this took so long - i promise i'm working through all the lovely asks you guys sent me, it's just taking a minute (school and shit, you know)
anyways!
I'm Sorry (In Not So Many Words)
Farleigh Start is a lot of things. At first glance, a stuck up bitch, but that’s only the first of many layers. He’s wicked smart when it comes to literary analysis, can write an argumentative essay like nobody’s business, and breezes through books faster than anybody else you know. He’s funny in a bitchy kind of way that’s distinctly American and not to everyone's taste, but definitely to yours. He’s fashionable to a fault - a bit of a diva, truly - but on more than one occasion has held your hair back so you can vomit vodka into the toilet. He always has enough weed or coke or acid tabs to share and always has extra room in his dorm for you to crash if you’re too high to get home. He’s mean and nice at the same time, and to most people, it’s confusing. But not to you. 
To anyone else, you’re friends. Barely friends, even, connected only by the fact that Felix and Annabel are kind-of-sort-of a thing. You would have never have even met him if Annabel hadn’t dragged you into Felix’s circle, but you’re glad that you did. It’s fun, finding excuses to get each other alone, patting concealer over hickeys you’re not ‘supposed’ to have. And he’s nicer behind closed doors, when he’s not putting on a show for his cousin. You might even go as far as to say that he’s sweet, when it's the two of you alone. Of course, you’d never tell anyone - not that anyone would believe you, either. 
So when you overhear Felix ask Farleigh if he’d ever consider going out with you to double date with him and Annabel and he laughs, an icicle shoots through your heart. It’s condescending, his laugh; it’s you’re kidding and I would never and you can’t be serious all at the same time, and it shoots through you like a bullet. 
You don’t show up to Kings Arms even though Annabel texts you that that’s where everyone is, instead holing up in your room, the sound of Farleigh’s laughter banging around in your head. You don’t know what the truth is. Has he just been leading you on this whole time? Pretending to like you for… what? It can’t be sex, he can get that with other people, it can’t be drugs, he always supplies them, it can’t be money either… but the way he laughed, like it was so ludicrous that he would ever consider going on an actual date - a double date, even, which is really only half a date - with you. And to think that you liked him. Even just as a friend. Maybe you were wrong to think that his bitchiness was a front - maybe that’s just who he is. Maybe you were wrong to think that he was anything else. Maybe-
A gentle knock at your dorm door interrupts your spiraling, and you get up from your bed, padding across the room to look out the peephole, and find a familiar puff of curls. You’re opening the door before you can really think about if you want to see him right now, just out of habit. 
Farleigh smiles at you, and breezes into your room like nothing’s wrong. “Did I leave my grinder in here?”
“I don’t know.” You say, closing the door and retreating back to your bed, watching him sort through the things on your desk, looking for the little blue grinder he keeps with the rest of his weed supplies. He sorts through your things like they’re his - and if you’re being honest, some of them are. Over the course of the semester, the line between what’s yours and what’s his has blurred significantly. 
He turns around at the sound of your voice, peering down at you. “What’s wrong with you?” It’s teasing and sympathetic at the same time. 
“Nothing.” You shrug. “I’m just not feeling well.”
He squints, moving from the desk to sit down on the bed next to you. “Uh huh.”
You’re really not in the mood for him right now. “Fuck off.” Why should you give him the time of day when he was so rude behind your back? You don’t really want to tell him off to his face - he’s quick as a whip in an argument, you’ve seen it firsthand - but you really, really, don’t want to see him right now. 
He laughs, sharp and surprised. “Wow.” He says. “What?”
You roll your eyes. “What, what?” You mock him. You know you’re being childish, but you don’t really care - it was childish of him to laugh. 
He rolls his eyes back at you. “What’s your problem?” He asks. “You were perfectly fine earlier, did I say something?”
“Obviously.” You say.
He waits for you to keep going, but you don’t. “You’re not going to tell me?”
“I heard you and Felix.” You snap. “Is the idea of actually going on a date with me in public, with other people, that fucking funny?”
His face shifts into something you don’t recognize. “I-”
“If you don’t want to do this anymore, you should just say so.” You keep going. “I thought that we were actually, I don’t know, friends, at least. Call me crazy but I felt like I actually knew you, and actually liked you.” You laugh. “I just-” You pause. “Nevermind. I guess I was stupid for thinking that it went both ways. I guess I shouldn’t have, I mean, I was watching you do this same shit to other people, I don’t know why I thought I would be different-”
“I wasn’t laughing at the idea of going out with you, I was laughing because there’s no way in hell I would ever go on a double date with Felix and Annabel. They’re fucking insufferable as is.” He interrupts you, placing a hand on your cheek and turning your face so that you’re looking at him. “Did you really think I was laughing at you?”
“I wouldn’t have been so pissed off if I didn’t think you were.” You say, not quite sure whether to believe him or not. “But-”
“I’ll take you out.” He says it casually, thumbing over your cheekbone. “Just us. We can go get dinner at that new place by the pubs. If you want.”
All of the anger and doubt that had been piling up on your chest is suddenly lifted. “That sounds great.”
“Cool.” He says, grinning, his hand still caressing the side of your face. His fingers trail down the side of your neck and then he’s cradling your head, pulling you closer to press his lips to yours - softly, gently. It’s an ‘I’m sorry’ in fewer words, but you know him well enough to read it as an apology. 
You kiss him back, pouring your sorry back into him. You shouldn’t have been so quick to assume that he was laughing at you, you should have had more faith in the fact that companionship is a two way street - he seeks you out as much as you do him. It’s mutual, and in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten that. Sweeping your tongue into his mouth, you smile against his lips when he sighs into the kiss. 
He pulls away so that his lips are just brushing yours. “Let me make it up to you?”
“You don’t have to.” You say, leaning back as he gently pushes you down on the mattress. “It was really my fault, I misunderstood-” 
He noses down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake as your back hits the mattress. His curls tickle your skin as he works down your collarbone, rucking up your shirt so that he can kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his lashes as he does. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as he kisses over the skin. “Farleigh-”
“What?” It’s teasing and playful as he sits back on his heels to thumb at the waistband of your pants. He drops his voice slightly. “Can I?”
You nod, and he dips his fingers below your waistband, gently pulling your pants down to your ankles. You kick them off the rest of the way as he leans back down over you, holding your eyes with his as he noses between your thighs. You suck in a breath as his tongue makes contact with your skin, and a bolt of pleasure shoots through you. Your tip your head back against the mattress as he starts to work his mouth over you. He knows how to use his tongue - there’s a reason there’s a rumor about him sucking teachers off - and he puts it to work right away, diving in like he’s hungry for it. 
“Oh fuck-” You wind your fingers into his curls, tugging at the root. He moans into your skin, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. It’s good - it’s always good with him. That’s another thing about Farleigh - you can always trust him to actually get you off. Unlike most of the other guys you’ve been with.
But you feel a little guilty that he thinks he has to make it up to you, when you were the one who didn’t bother to ask him what he meant. If anything, you should be sucking him off. Tugging more insistently at his hair, you pull him up to latch your lips together in a kiss, licking yourself off his skin. He pants against your lips. “Why’d you stop me?”
“I want you to fuck me.” You say. That way it’s even, that way, you’re both getting to enjoy yourselves. 
“Fuck. Okay.” He shucks his trousers and boxers down in one motion, kicking them down the bed. He’s already hard - but he usually is, after burying his head between your thighs - and you don’t hesitate to reach out and stroke him a few times, watching his face change into that almost pained look he gets when you fuck him.
You line him up, brushing his skin against yours, and watch as his eyelids drop to half mast as he pushes in. The stretch just borders on the edge of too much, but the groan he lets out distracts you from the sting. He always sounds so pretty when you’re like this, tangled up in the sheets of your too-small dorm room bed. You wind a hand into his hair and pull him down into the crook of your neck so that you can nip at his earlobe as he starts that slow, delicious grind you’ve come to associate with him. 
He sinks his teeth into the skin of your neck, gently biting over a hickey that he left only a couple days before, refreshing the mark as he muffles a groan. You trail your lips down the shell of his ear until you find his neck again, doing the same. His hips stutter into yours as you suck at the tender skin of his neck, and you smile. Even though he’s on top, he’s still putty in your hands - or mouth, really.
“Farleigh.” You whisper against the mark you just left.
“Mm, what?” He nips at your collarbone.
“Switch with me.” You say. “Let me on top.”
He laughs, a breathy thing that borders on a whine. “I’m supposed to be making it up to you-”
“Which is why you should let me on top.” You say. 
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you-”
“Please?”
His hips stutter against yours again, and that's how you know you’ve got him. He pulls you tight to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, and rolls across the mattress until he’s flat on his back and you’re straddling him without ever pulling out. Sitting up, you take in the sight of him, pupils blown wide, lips still slick with spit, a blooming mark peeking out from behind his ear, and plant your hands on his chest for leverage as you start to bounce. 
He grins, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle the moan that forces its way out of his chest as you work yourself up and down his cock, his hands finding their place on your hips, fingers digging into your skin. You purposefully scratch your fingernails down his chest to watch him squirm, and he uses his grip on your hips to fuck up into you, to watch you falter. It’s a fun game that you play, who can make the other keen and whine more, made even more fun by the fact that more often than not, you win. 
“Fuck, fuck-” Farleigh rasps, his grip tightening as he takes over your bouncing for you. You let him move you at his own pace, able to tell just by the way he whines that he’s close. He throws his head back and you watch his stomach tighten as he lets out a long groan. His whole body tenses, and then stills. You wait for his eyes to flutter open before you start bouncing again. 
He gasps, a high pitched laugh leaving his lips. “Shit-”
“I’m almost there.” You say, watching his face as the coil tightens in your gut. 
“Take your time.” He says, panting. “I’m good.”
He always says that, but you know it’s only a matter of time before it’s too much and he starts to grit his teeth. You know what it’s like - you’ve been on the other end before, already came but Farleigh’s still fucking, the drag growing more overstimulating the longer it goes on. So you bounce faster, focusing on the way he looks underneath you, debauched and panting, eyes half lidded as he watches you go up and down, sweat gathering in the hollow of his neck. God, he’s so beautiful. 
“Ah-” 
You shake apart on top of him, and he catches you as you slump down onto his chest, arms wrapping around your middle. You nose into the crook of his neck with a sigh, contentment washing over you. “‘M sorry.”
“For what?”
“Being stupid. Thinking you were laughing at me. Sulking about it.” You say, pressing a kiss to the warmth of his skin. 
“‘M sorry for making you think I was laughing at you.” He says. 
You sigh. “We’re good?”
“We’re good.” He says. You can hear the smile in his voice.
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I am I the asshole for telling someone what they were doing was "mean spirited and cruel"?
(submitted this a while back but was never posted - don't know if tumblr ate it or if it broke a rule, but i'm sorry if its the latter)
My complex has a facebook page where residents can post questions or concerns to other residents. One day a woman posted asking if we could move the food bowls where people feed the feral cat colony that lives near us because when she walks her dogs they always lunge at the cats; she had just had surgery and it hurt when they pulled on the leash. Someone responded saying they had moved the bowls down and that seemed like that.
Two days later she posted again saying that our "kind and caring neighbor" (her) had called someone to come pick up the cats. From another comment on the post it seemed like she had talked to someone IRL who was rude and basically told her "I've been feeding the cats for 10 years fuck off" and then called animal control immediately after that.
This felt really petty to me, and I posted saying that calling animal control on the cats was "mean spirited and cruel". I explained that almost all feral cats taken in are put down, and that she was making a decision about the community's cats without consulting the community. I added that I was sorry she had been hurting since her surgery, but that there were other steps she should have taken before this.
She responded that I needed to have more compassion for her as she herself was very compassionate and caring person. To which I responded that she should then extend that compassion to these cats that had never hurt anyone. (Seriously, they just chill around our complex and eat rats – they’ve never scratched or bit any person or animal)
She responded that they hurt her “fur babies” everyday because they make her dogs pull at their leashes and choke themselves. She then went on a rant about how she didn’t understand why people weren’t respecting her anger and that since she lived here she had a right to want the cats gone. She also mentioned that calling her “mean spirited and cruel” had racial connotations and that I wouldn’t call a white person that.
Important context, I am a white woman – up until this point I had not realized that she was a black woman as this argument was in a facebook group and the pictures were small. But it is very possible this is something I saw and internalized without consciously recognizing it.
I was really thrown by this, and just replied yes, I would and that I’m sorry it hurt to hear, but that is what her actions were. (Which, yeah, nobody ever not in the racist category uses the ‘I’d say that to anyone!’ excuse, but I truly didn’t know what to say). She continued to respond to my comment saying how I was a pitiful person if I’d really call anyone that, and that I hadn’t addressed any of her other points.
More people where commenting at the same time on this post, and while she responded to all of them my “mean spirited and cruel” comment apparently really got her because she kept bringing it up in arguments with other people. She really felt that people were being unjustifiably angry and mean to her for something she thought she had a right to do.
It also came out that she had apparently posted complaining about the cats the day before but it had gotten so out of hand the post was deleted before I could see it. She had also gotten into several arguments IRL with people feeding the cats. This explains why she felt so ganged up on I suppose – though none of this I knew before replying.
The next day she specifically made a new post calling out racists in our community and tagged me and few other people (even other POC) who had disagreed with her about the cats. I didn’t respond, but fairly quickly that and the post from before were deleted.
I’ve been really trying to think about if my internalized racism did unknowingly influence my actions, but I honestly keep coming back to the fact that I think I would have said the same to anyone who tried to get a cat colony killed because her dogs try to attack them.
Also for those curious – the cat colony is still here! It turns out removing a cat colony from their home is actually considered animal cruelty and is illegal in this state
What are these acronyms?
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hypnoneghoul · 2 months
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Hyp, I'm a little nervous because I never really do this but can I request some filthy stuff with Rain and Phantom? Or whoever fits better for you. 👉👈
heheh you get 670 words of phantom being cute and using it for his advantage and rain getting his brain sucked out through his dick
“Rainy! You were supposed to stay still,” Phantom scolded him once again, flicking the tip of the water ghoul’s dick with his tongue. He pulled off after Rain’s hips bucked up, effectively making him gag. It wouldn’t be an issue to Phantom if only he hadn’t told the other to stay still.
“S– sorry,” Rain muttered. His eyes were squeezed shut, face all flushed as he held on to the arm of the armchair with white-knuckled grip. They were having a nice, peaceful afternoon, cuddling in the deep chair, when suddenly the young ghoul decided to start squirming for no reason at all. Apart from, of course, being a menace. He was truly spending too much time with Swiss.
Soon enough his wriggling caused Rain to pop a boner and when that happened, Phantom melted off of him and settled on his knees between the water ghoul’s own legs, staring up at him with his puppy eyes.
That’s how they ended up there. With Rain truly insane and Phantom all giggly about the fact that it was him who made the water ghoul insane.
“You don’t want to hurt me, do you?” he cooed, furrowing his brows and Rain could just die at the sight. Phantom was too cute for his own fucking good.
“No, of c– course not,” Rain whined. “‘m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” the quintessence ghoul smiled and smoothed his hands over the other’s tense legs. He nuzzled his face into his thighs, feeling the tremor of them under his cheek, and purred at the gentle scratch of Rain’s hair on his skin. “Just don’t do it again.”
The water ghoul nodded dumbly and moaned like a true whore when Phantom’s mouth and throat engulfed his cock again, taking him to the very hilt. He was truly spending too much time with Dewdrop.
Phantom became nearly as skilled as the fire ghoul at sucking dick and Rain didn’t know if he should be grateful for it or start crying. Or both. It was maddening what Phantom was doing to him and nobody would be surprised if it turned out that he added some quintessence to improve his cock sucking abilities.
Anyway, Rain wasn’t thinking about that now. Now, he was moaning, whining and whimpering as Phantom devoured him, barely holding back from thrusting up into his glorious mouth.
The quintessence ghoul hummed at the taste of Rain’s pre going down his throat, making him grunt loudly in turn. Phantom would giggle if his mouth wouldn’t be otherwise occupied. He pulled back a bit, trailing his tongue over the vein on the underside of Rain’s cock, up to the very head. He licked the slit with a flutter of his eyes before closing his lips tightly around it and sucking.
Rain let out the most debauched noise Phantom has probably ever heard, and he could feel his cock kicking as he slid it all back into his mouth. Rain’s legs and stomach were tensed, to the point it had to hurt, with the struggle to stay still.
The quintessence ghoul batted his eyelashes up at him and repeated, knowing it would take no time at all for copious amounts of water ghoul cum to flow down his throat.
“So full,” he tutted, pulling away for just a second and diving right back in.
He moved up and down and licked and hummed and sucked, listening with delight to Rain’s whorish sounds. When they got even higher and louder, Phantom brought a hand up to play with the water ghoul’s balls, squeezing and fondling them.
Rain whined at it and his hips nearly bucked up. Barely, he managed to not do it. Phantom hummed approvingly and decided it was time to reward Rain’s sweet obedience.
He pulled off to mutter something more before he’d make him spill, “Cum for me, Rainy, and if it’s sweet enough I’ll let you fuck the next load into my ass.”
Rain wailed.
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luvbugs-blog · 10 months
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gyutaro h/c with blind s/o
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pairing: gyutaro x reader
POSSIBLE SPOILERS
a/n: super sweet h/c about gyutaro! ALSO, i tried to make this gender neutral as possible, so I'm sorry if there's a bullet point that doesn't reflect that. I'm also trying to be inclusive in my writing (so i don't always include able-bodied readers) but if something is incorrect, please let me know! love you all!
even before turning into a demon, gyutaro wasn't happy with the way he looks
poor little baby was getting bullied, beaten, and shunned
so coming across someone that cannot see his face might help that insecurity a little bit (not that he wouldn't want someone who could see him, because if you truly loved him, it wouldn't be a problem)
how did you two meet? (in these scenarios, pretend like daki and him are separated/he isn't inside her body)
scenario one: you bump into him at night in some alley in the district trying to find your way back to your house. and he waits for the squeal of terror directed towards his face, or for you to run away. but instead, you bow, apologizing deeply. it's then that he notices your cane. you go to brush off his clothes when he grabs your hand and insists no harm was done. let him walk you home. why is he acting so nice? he doesn't know. but he doesn't like it. he hates humans, disgusting creatures. but this one seems ok.
scenario two: daki grabs you for your beauty, but he stops her from devouring you. why? who knows? maybe it's because he recognizes you from when you were kind to him. either way, you're his now.
just like when he was the primary guardian of his sister, he would love to feel like he was protecting you, even when you don't really need it
he would follow you around to make sure nobody would be mean
he would make sure there were no sharp objects around that you could potentially run into in areas you weren't familiar with
one night, the two of you were sitting on your futon, talking, hugging, doing whatever s/o and demon bf do, when you reached up to touch his face. he tensed up a bit, a little nervous of your soft hands feeling the uneven skin, but when you smiled at him, he saw you were genuinely happy. he might've shed a tear that night, but who knows?
you could feel his body tense up next to yours, but you didn't cease your movements. your hands, cupping his face, trying to map out what you couldn't see.
"mmmm, whatcha doing?"
"just trying to feel what you look like."
"'fraid there isn't much there, love."
"nonsense. you are gorgeous."
(sniff. "are you crying?" "no it's just raining." "..." "we're inside.")
his hands reach up to cover yours, slowly entwining your fingers as he puts them into his lap. he rests his forehead on yours, and the two of you sit that way for a while before you reach up and press a small kiss to his lips.
"thank you."
"for what?"
"loving me as i am."
"and you, me." (<- a/n: this part was so rough for me to think of. i literally had a brainfart and was like, how do you respond to this... 'ditto?' 'same here?' i wanted it to be romantic lmao.)
this man wouldn't hesitate to kill for you. fr. you saw what he did to that samurai that got ume. he would annihilate them.
i'm trying to think... how would he respond to you aging? like would he just let you die of old age? would he turn you into a demon? like this man has never felt so loved and accepted by someone (who wasn't his sister), and i don't think he would let you go that easily.
love languages: physical touch. this man was STARVED of loving physical contact as a child. please hug him.
words of affirmation. mans doesn't regret becoming a demon, so don't say anything like that. but maybe, "you're so pretty", or "best bf ever" or "you're too good to me." mans would be one of three things.
one, weeping. crying his eyes out. hugging you, or your waist (depending on where the two of you are)
two, bashful. little embarrassed about his reaction, but he loves and CRAVES the attention. little head kisses as thanks.
three, literally throwing you onto the bed and just going crazy.
fucks you into next week.
his love languages towards you: acts of service. physical touch. enough said.
very loving though. just don't flirt with anyone else, even to get a rise out of him. toxic gyutaro fr. mans is a demon. how else would he react?
a/n: AHHH hope this is enjoyable! let me know if you want more h/c from characters. i'm literally obsessed with demon slayer rn...
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bvidzsoo · 5 months
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Drive to Survive
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⫻Formula One Racer!Hongjoong⫻
TW: nothing, except similarities to the 2021 season lol
Word count: 3,2k
A/N: So, I did something, again...*sigh*. This is for you Orsi bestie, I hope it reaches your expectations lol. This is like the 2021 F1 season without the injustice---anyways, I'm not here to get murdered by the F1 fandom, love y'all. Can't believe I wrote a Red Bull driver story, ew lol. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated!!
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            It had been a gut-wrenching and nerve wrecking season this year’s fight for the championship. At times, I couldn’t help but wonder how Hongjoong was doing it all—keeping his mental health in check and letting loose at times while completely focusing on winning first place as many times as he could, securing himself in the Driver’s Championship. It was truly difficult. The car was very good, everything having ran smoothly after the summer break when a few final adjustments and changes had been done to the automobile, making the Red Bulls the quickest on the grid. However, Kang Yeosang, his biggest rival at the moment sat in an equal machinery, closely following Hongjoong on his tail. Each Grand Prix resulted with the two battling for first position in the driver’s standings, sometimes resulting in disqualifying the other by an incident—or in worst case scenario, by crashing into each other. Watching Hongjoong’s car get almost flipped as it went over Yeosang’s car had been one of the most horrific moments of my life, heart clenching and heartbeat halting as my breath caught in my throat, eyes wide in terror as all I could do was watch my fiancé through the screen of the TV, unable to do anything as I was seated between the mechanics in the Red Bull garage. It was an involuntary action as I jumped up to my feet with a loud gasp, everyone tense around me as we watched Hongjoong’s car glide over Yeosang’s, getting halfway suspended over it. Nobody moved nor breathed. I could see Yeosang moving as the camera zoomed in on them, thankfully he seemed to be fine, the halo around the car having protected his head from anything severe, but Hongjoong still gave no signs of life. I could feel my hands tremble as I looked at the mechanic next to me helplessly, who’s face looked just as worried as mine. And then, there came the shout from someone who stood next to Hongjoong’s engineer, letting us know that Hongjoong spoke on the radio and said that he was fine, slightly sore. Everything that happened afterwards was a blur, my head felt in a haze as Hongjoong was taken to the local hospital for a regular check-up to make sure he suffered no serious injuries. I was rushed to the hospital with him and after he was taken to a private room to rest for a bit, I was finally allowed to see him. I couldn’t help but let out a long sigh and pause in the doorway as Hongjoong was lazily flicking through the TV channels, probably searching for the one broadcasting the Formula One race still on-going. Upon hearing the door open, he turned his head and looked at me, features instantly softening when he saw my face. I couldn’t help but rush up to him and almost fall into his arms as he had opened them, waiting for me to reach him. The tears escaped my eyes involuntarily as I buried my head in Hongjoong’s neck, inhaling his familiar scent mixed with sweat. Hongjoong’s arms wrapped around me tightly and he started rubbing up and down my back, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“I’m alright, don’t cry.” He whispered, voice soft and I sniffed, my body finally relaxing. He was fine, he was holding me in his arms. He was breathing, talking, and hugging me. He was alive, and that’s what mattered, “I’m sorry for scaring you this much. The crash wasn’t as harsh as it seemed on TV, I’ve seen the replays.”
I shook my head and allowed my hand to raise to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his smooth hair, “Hongjoong, it looked horrible. I—I was so scared. I don’t ever again want to see you get into a crash. You have to be more careful, let Yeosang pass if you see he’s being aggressive—”
“That won’t happen, darling, you know I can’t let him pass.” Hongjoong’s voice hardened slightly at the mention of his rival, “If he wants to race hard, then we will race hard, I’m not the one to back down.”
“Look where it got you!” I pulled my head back, eyebrows furrowed as I stared into Hongjoong’s cat-like eyes. His own eyebrows were furrowed but he just sighed, averting his gaze.
“I’m alive, Y/N, it’s all that matters.” I couldn’t help but shudder at his words and Hongjoong noticed, face instantly morphing into regret. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of losing him to a fatal crash. He wouldn’t be the first, nor the last. Formula One was a dangerous sport, and your life was the only one at stake, “Sorry.”
Hongjoong muttered and I just shook my head, letting out a long sigh. He offered me a warm smile as he cupped my cheek and leaned down, pulling my head closer to his. My eyes fluttered close as Hongjoong’s warm lips pressed against mine and he kissed me tenderly, pouring an apology and a promise into the kiss. He was sorry, and he’d be more careful. I could live with that, even if I knew Hongjoong was a ruthless racer, fearless. His driving style set him apart from everyone, sharp in the corners and quick on the straights, not many could catch up to him. His defense was crazy and he always found the impossible spots for overtakes, making them possible, halting everyone’s heartbeats who were cheering for him. He was exceptional, legendary. People knew his name. People loved him and rooted for him. Some people even wanted to be him…or to be with him. But Hongjoong is a humble man, proud of what he has achieved so far and even more hard working and determined to earn more and more. And he is loyal, loving, and caring. Always by my side and on my side, shielding me from blind hatred and senseless drama. He had everything he wanted and needed, many envied him for that. Yet, Hongjoong only had one goal in his mind: win his first Championship. Become the Captain everyone seemed to be calling him, leader of his generation, an icon in motor racing. And all I could do was stand by his side and encourage him, bring him up when he felt like he couldn’t go anymore, comfort him when things went south and most importantly…love him for who he was. I smiled into the kiss as Hongjoong started rubbing my cheek lovingly, reassuring me that he was here and that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
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            But the game never stops nor does the race, not until the season ends. And today was the final Grand Prix, in Abu Dhabi, the last race which would go down in the history books, often talked about, always remembered. Yeosang and Hongjoong had equal points. However wins tonight, becomes the World Champion. It would be Yeosang’s second, and Hongjoong’s first title. The tension was palpable in the air and everyone in the garage was tense as everything was set up for the race. Hongjoong was placing his weight from one leg to another, jaw clenching and unclenching often. He looked mad, but he was only nervous. I knew him well, I could read him like the back of my hand. He was wearing his dark blue undies, the color specific to the Red Bull Racing team, with his overalls hanging low on his hips, the sleeves tied around it to keep it more in place. His costume was tight fitting, accentuating each muscle and curve of his body, his abs slightly defined by the shirt he was wearing. He had recently dyed his hair a darker purple, but it has faded out and now looked closer to the color of a grape. I watched from distance as he spoke to one of his mechanic’s, eyebrows furrowed and pointing at something on the car. He was frustrated, grip tightening around the Red Bull can he had to drink water from in order to show off the sponsor. The mechanic seemed to be a bit lost and I could see Hongjoong’s frustration morph slowly into irritation and anger, so I decided to step in quickly as I walked up to them. I allowed my hand to sneak up on his shoulder and squeeze lightly in order to get his attention. Hongjoong looked at me from the corner of his eyes before sighing and looking at the mechanic defeated.
“Fine, do as you think is best, but if I lose tonight—know it’s on you.” And then Hongjoong walked off to his PR manager, who was calling for him as he had to do one last interview before the race would start. The mechanic looked rather pale as I looked at him and offered him a small smile.
“He’s just very stressed, he didn’t mean that.” I reassured the mechanic, but it didn’t seem to work so I tried again, “Hongjoong will win tonight.”
“Yeah, he better.” The mechanic muttered before walking off and I went back to my seat, watching Hongjoong again as he spoke to the reporter, still looking irritated but hiding it well with a few charming smiles and light chuckles. I tried to keep it together for him, but I was a nervous wreck. The last three nights have been almost sleepless for the both of us, Hongjoong tossing and turning every few minutes as sleep never caught up with him. I would’ve been able to sleep, but I quickly absorbed his mood and it turned me restless too, leading to a few really bad nights as Hongjoong and I had to sleep in separate rooms, too on edge around each other. There was nothing wrong, it’s just that we were too in tune with each other’s feelings, and if I was feeling anxious it could throw him off his concentration and turn him into a nervous wreck as well, in such dire situation, such thing like that wasn’t allowed. Hongjoong had to fully commit and focus, his eyes set on the prize already. As he finished the interview he quickly pulled on his dark blue overall and zipped it up, headed my way. I smiled at him warmly and he stopped across from me, the high table between our bodies putting a distance between us. He fumbled with his fingers and I knew he didn’t know what to say, he was just in need of a little comfort. So, I reached across the table and held his hand in mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. No words needed to be exchanged as Hongjoong sighed loudly, Yeosang’s laughter echoing around the garage as he had passed by the Red Bull garage with his engineer and two mechanics. Yeosang seemed to be dealing a lot better with tonight’s stressful Grand Prix, but we paid him no mind as Hongjoong rounded the high table and came closer to me, fingers intertwining with mine. The cold Ruby of my engagement ring pressed into my flesh and I felt Hongjoong play with it, a habit which always seemed to calm him down a bit. I beamed up at him and it made Hongjoong smile as he leaned down, pressing a kiss against my forehead. I sighed in contentment as he pulled back, determination glossing over his eyes. There he was, my little racer.
“I love you.” I whispered to him as Hongjoong smirked, pulling his shoulders back and letting go of my hand. He shook his arms out and cracked his neck, going to the side to stretch as he sent me a flying kiss, making me giggle.
            The loud roaring of men around me deafened me for a few seconds, mouth hung open and eyes wide like two saucers as I stared at the TV screen, my heartbeat probably non-existent at this point. My hands were shaking, my body was shivering, my eyes were filling with tears. My stomach was twisting and despite standing up, my right leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. My arms were thrown behind my head as I gripped onto my nape, biting my lower lip as anxiety coursed through my veins, adrenaline flowing in my bloodstream. All throughout the race it has been a cat and mouse game between Yeosang and Hongjoong. One time one was ahead, then the other, constantly battling for that first place. I couldn’t imagine what Hongjoong was currently feeling, but I knew I was on the brink of passing out. The cheers of the men around me were due to Hongjoong overtaking Yeosang in the second to last corner, having braked later. It was the last lap of the Grand Prix, everything mattered right now. Every little twitch of the wheel, a little slip of the car or of your attention. I couldn’t help but yelp as Yeosang gained advantage on Hongjoong again, the front wing of his car almost bumping into the back of Hongjoong’s as Yeosang drove aggressively, but Hongjoong defended just as fiercely. Hongjoong’s brother was a mess next to me as he kept cursing, their parents clutching each other’s hands as Hongjoong’s mother kept closing her eyes, muttering a prayer every once in a while. His father despite looking composed was shaking worse than me, eyes constantly wide as he gazed up at the big screen of the TV. My breath caught in my throat as Yeosang and Hongjoong took the last turn, Yeosang’s car slightly more ahead in the corner as he Hongjoong miscalculated the turn for some reason, and a collective gasp broke through the garage as Yeosang was now more ahead with his front wing. Nobody moved, nobody said anything as the cars sped towards the finish line, checkered flag waved crazily in the air, everyone excited for the outcome. And then, Yeosang’s car slightly lost its back, but it wasn’t anything vital as he quickly regained control and continued on pushing as if nothing happened. However, this allowed Hongjoong to slightly pass him, his front wing passing Yeosang’s, cars dangerously close side by side as they raced towards the finish line. And there it was, the victory right in front of their hands as they both crossed the finish line, seemingly in the same position, neither more forward nor backward than the other. I felt my body go limp as everyone went quiet, even the commentators, awaiting for the result. The picture came only seconds later, sent in by the race juries, broadcasted upon everyone’s screens as I could hear Hongjoong’s engineer scream into their radio from his place from the pit wall.
“Hongjoong!  You’re World Champion! Kim Hongjoong, you have won!”
And then, everyone screamed and jumped up, female and male voices mixing together as the grandstands broke into a roar of Hongjoong’s name, the fireworks going off and putting an end to this exhausting season. I barely realized, mind in shock and body frozen mid-yelp, as my body was lifted off the ground and I was whirled around as Hongjoong’s brother clutched me, cheering loudly as both of their parents cried. I couldn’t help but follow them, bawling my eyes out as I started laughing, Hongjoong’s brother carefully placing me down as the mechanics and the Red Bull team gathered in a circle and started shouting, hyping themselves up even more. My ears were ringing but I couldn’t really care about that as the TV showed Hongjoong’s car stopping at the finish line, Hongjoong hauling himself out of the car. My feet were moving before my mind could process what was happening, the mechanics ran through the pit and jumped over the fence as they ambushed Hongjoong, cheering and gripping onto him as he struggled to take off his helmet. I stood by the fence, wiping my tears away as Hongjoong’s brother jumped over and offered to help me over as well, his own hands shaking as he took my shaky ones in his. As my feet landed on the ground again, my eyes went to Hongjoong as he was down on his knees, forehead touching his car, body shaking. He was crying, I knew he was crying and it made me cry again as I consciously now walked towards him, his mechanics and team making space for me as I called out his name, my own raspy voice foreign to myself. I haven’t even realized I have screamed so much tonight until now.
“Hongjoong!” I called out again and he was suddenly up on his feet, sobs erupting from his mouth as his body collided against mine harshly as we ran up to each other, his arms caging me against himself in a bear hug, swaying us side to side as he continued sobbing into my neck, my own tears flowing heavier than they have been. All tension lifted from my body as I clutched onto my boyfriend with desperation, finally feeling the well deserved happiness and contentment wash over myself as I squealed, starting to jump up and down, making Hongjoong mirror me. He was laughing as he let out a loud shout of satisfaction, grabbing my thighs and bringing them around his middle as I yelped and held onto him tightly, getting whirled around as Hongjoong shouted loudly. I couldn’t help but laugh and press a messy kiss against his lips, our mouths unable to stop smiling as I felt love, adrenaline, happiness mix together and create an euphoric feeling in my brain and body.
“You’re a fucking World Champion, Kim Hongjoong!” I screamed and he threw his head back and laughed, mouth pulled into a wide smirk as his hands tightened around my thighs, “You are the World Champion!”
Hongjoong let out another deep shout as he swiftly placed me down on the ground and was instantly tackled into a tight hug by his brother then followed by their parents, the four of them huddled together as they celebrated briefly the victory of their beloved Hongjoong. And I couldn’t help but look around and take in the crowd, everyone ecstatic as they watched Hongjoong and the Red Bull team, jumping up and down and chanting his name. Proudness swelled in my chest and I pressed a hand against my heart, taking in a deep breath as I made eye contact with Yeosang, who had the tiniest smile on his lips as he stood to the side, leaning against the fence. His eyes glinted with proudness and he nodded at me with a grin as we made eye contact, making me break out into a huge smile. He knew the feeling, he was in Hongjoong’s shoes last year. It warmed my heart that despite their rivalry, Yeosang could still show some silent support towards Hongjoong. They’ve been racing together since a fragile age, deep down, both of them cared about each other, but in a sport like Formula One, such as friendship on the grid didn’t exist.
“Kim Hongjoong!” I heard the voice of the reporter boom through the speakers loudly, “First time World Champion! Takes the crown and bears its victory!”
And then I found Hongjoong’s eyes again and we grinned at each other as his trophy was carefully passed to him, Hongjoong’s hands clutching it tightly and carefully as if he was afraid anyone would try and take it away from him. But nobody could, because he was Kim Hongjoong, Red Bull Racing driver, first time World Champion. The first obstacle in his long journey had been just conquered, making way for many more to come. For many more victories to commence, happy and painful memories to follow. Kim Hongjoong, the Captain.
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