#part three coming when my brain likes me
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Eye Candy pt 2
My apologies that this took so long. I’ve been having a hectic few weeks. Part three will come faster!
Steve had no idea how to feel the moment his eyes locked on the man who’d spoken.
On one hand, he felt distinctly caught. Something like embarrassment crawled up the back of his neck, hot and twitchy, motivating his feet to take off in a run. Robin would probably kill him if he did, however.
But he was also warm for an entirely different reason.
Because holy fuck, this just might be the single most attractive man he’d ever seen and every single one of his nerves was firing sporadically.
They were about the same height, but that’s where the similarities ended. The man had soft looking blond curls pulled back from the sides of his face with sleek silver clips. A single, perfect ringlet dangled over his forehead artfully.
His eyes- a startling blue even in the dim light- were rimmed with smoked out eyeliner, sparkling with amusement as Steve’s silence stretched on. Golden skin was showcased by a silky ruby toned shirt only half done up, tucked into a leather corset style belt with hand etched designs so intricate Steve would bet it cost more than two months of his rent.
“I… I uh-“ Steve stuttered over his attempt to answer, cheeks flooding red. The pretty man ran his tongue over a pointed canine as he waited.
“We must’ve gotten the wrong address.” Robin interrupted when she realized Steve’s brain was fully broken.
More of those pearly teeth flashed at them with the answer. “Ah, of course.” He didn’t believe them at all, the dimple in his cheek twitching with the effort not to laugh. Robin grabbed Steve by the wrist, yanking him towards her and the door none too subtly.
“Sorry, we’ll be- uh, on our way!” She gave the guy a tight smile, tugging at Steve again. Giving in, the brunette man started to follow her towards the door, only to be stopped by a larger hand clasping around his opposite wrist.
Steve’s eyes shot up and back to lock with an intense blue gaze. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Come in, I promise I don’t bite.”
*Unless you ask nicely*, Steve could’ve sworn he heard exhaled afterwards.
He should’ve said no, apologized and left probably. They didn’t know this guy and this had already been an embarrassing start. But Steve really was a sucker for pretty boys.
“Uh-uhm, yeah. Okay. Why not?” His voice was a little strained and he tried to ignore the stunned look Robin shot him. He was gonna get an earful for this later, that was clear.
“Perfect…” The man smiled more genuinely, letting go of his wrist. Steve tried not to mourn the loss. “You can call me Billy, by the way.”
Billy. Steve rolled the name around in his mouth and decided he liked it. He would’ve expected the fallen angel currently guiding them through the other guests to have a name as elegant as his clothes but for some reason the commonality of it almost stood out more.
It suited him.
“Steve. And that is Robin.” He replied with a tongue that felt too big for his mouth, trying not to drool. The entire back of Billy’s shirt was taken up by a sheer panel that showed each fluid shift of his back muscles as he walked.
Steve wanted to bite them.
He was shaken out of his trance when they arrived to a smaller living room than the one at the front, where only a small handful of guests lingered. Five or six people besides them, max. A guard stood at the entrance, but paid Steve and Robin no mind as they trailed in at Billy’s heels.
He led them to a couch, where only one other person was sitting. A lithe, wisp of a girl in a lilac satin cocktail dress, a silver chain belt draped over her hips and wild brown curls she’d hauled up into a bun. She was almost as captivating as the blond, with pointed, lovely features that reminded him of a little of the elves in Dustin’s movies.
Her eyes brightened as they landed on Billy, then turned sly as she moved to their guests. “Ooh, where’d you find these ones?” She all but purred, getting to her feet with feline grace. Steve didn’t have to feel guilty about his mind’s preoccupation with Billy, though.
Most of her attention seemed locked on Robin, who was currently wide eyed like a deer in traffic.
“They ah… got a little lost. Figured I’d be a good host and let them stay.” Billy sounded amused repeating their bad excuse, which made Steve bite down a little harder on his lip.
“I’m not complaining. Have a seat.” She said, taking a step back and lowering herself onto the black couch once again. “Heather.” She held out a hand towards Robin, who took it expecting a shake.
“Nice to meet you. I’m um- uh…“ Steve almost wanted to laugh at how flustered the girl was, but he was self aware he’d been even worse than her before. He wasn’t going to invite her to call him out.
“Robin?” She finally managed, though it sounded a little like a question. Heather let out a pleasant peal of soft laughter. “You’re an awfully cute one.” She said like a fact, Robin’s freckles officially vanishing as her blush darkened impossibly more.
Oh god, what had they gotten themselves into?
#Eye Candy Ficlet#model!billy#model!heather#billy hargrove#steve harrington#harringrove#heather holloway#robin buckley#buckleway#billy antis dni#part three coming when my brain likes me#🌌 — w r i t i n g
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something that is like the baseline of amys entire character to me is that shes lonely. shes clingy and physically affectionate in a way none of her friends really are, shes always getting pushed aside and left behind. yeah, she helps out people she doesnt know because shes a nice person, but also, she sees part of herself in them. she wont leave someone else behind because she knows the feeling —and more importantly, hates the feeling. if she doesnt have somebody to stand by her and be there for her, then shes going to be that person for everybody else. something something her obsession with sonic is really just like a manifestation of that desire for closeness with someone, and she thinks that romance is the only way to get that. idk... this hedgehog can have so many abandonment issues.
#me posts#amy rose#sth#sonic the hedgehog#and this is not to say at all that romance is the only way to have 'real' love or anything#just that yknow part of her breaking free of that would also be realizing that she just wants closeness with someone and it doesnt-#-have to be romantic#aroace amy could fit this i suppose and she just doesnt know it yknow. thats not my hc but i support their beliefs if that makes sense#she wants to be loved and she wants to love and she doesnt really get a big outlet for that so she shares it with everyone she sees#also i didnt wanna jam up the post but GAMMA!! this is partially abt gamma she helps him find out how to love and how to find joy in it-#-bc its what she wants for herself. she sees him and sees how completely alone he is and she wants to help him. idk idk something something#-when she was locked in the cell she saw part of herself staring back at her#gamma parallels to amy is SLEPT ON i stg i could make a whole other post about it#idk.. whenever im writing amy or just thinking abt how shed interact with others its always from the lens that she craves closeness with-#-others. she wants people to just stay for once.#does this make any sense. idk man im rambling here#my worst nightmare is characterizing her wrong its such a fine line and sometimes the words do not come out of my brain right#btw this is NOT me dissing amy i love amy. she is like top three favorite character.#important context: im typing this with amy firefox theme rn ok. ok im an amy fan.#she points at the minimize button like shes telling me to log off#jesus christ i just scrolled back up i love to put a whole other post in the notes dont i
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save me old flipnote studio MVs.......
#im going thru old flipnotes i used to watch years ago and ouggghhg so many good ones#is twenty one pilots still popular.... do people still remember the TRNDSTTER and marble soda meme.........#its like im unlocking some sort of primal part of my brain and everything is coming back to me. one of my biggest inspirations as a kid#i still remember thinking the final transmission lyrics were the coolest thing and watching =TopHat= Bee and Melissa over and over#theres a very specific feeling of longing and nostalgia looking back and watching these again years later#especially when there isnt anything genshin or mcyt and instead its either fnaf undertale eddsworld or another obscure#interest... and not even fnaf sister location its like fnaf 3 and 2. its THAT old. and a lot of oc MVs especially pokemon ocs and furries..#god but they were so creative u know. i still find it amazing ppl took this little lightbox animation on the fucking NINTENDO DS and#cranked it all the way to 11.. like if u look at the transitions and movement its so fucking fluid its insane..!! HOW DO YOU MAKE THE#CHARACTERS SPIN??? AND CHANGING CAMERA ANGLES??? and keep in mind youre doing this all with a shitty stylus#on a THREE BY TWO INCH SCREEN. you only get two layers you can go up to 29FPS and you only have 999 slides to work with#and 24FPS eats up a lot of that. absolutely insane it literally boggles my mind every time i think about it. AND SOME ARE EVEN FULL COLOR#i forgot how popular EDM was back then too...they were really good for timing beats though so you get a lot of MVs with#strobe last and marble soda. porter robinsons goodbye to a world was also popular with undertale and oc MVs. also a lot of vocaloid#someone made a flipnote abt the warner bros fnaf movie being announced EIGHT FUCKING YEARS AGO. it even used the stay calm audio from#the office.... i wonder how theyre doing now... i love you shitty grainy MV audio.. but i have mixed feelings abt the flashing colors#ppl LOVED animating the sans vs frisk fight. aishite and primadonna were also big ones they were SICK AS FUCK#lots of these inspired my old oc designs.. a lot of my characters had side bangs with one eye covered. animal ears and simple eyes too#now i kinda wanna try my hand at the marble soda meme cause i loved it as a kid lol.. i wonder if i should compare my old and new art here#UGHHHH IM SO NORMAL ABOUT NOSTALGIA. IM SO NORMAL ABT MY SCHOOL BOOK DRAWINGS WITH SHIBA BROWS#yapping#nostalgia
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The emotional whiplash I am experiencing over YR S3 being wrapped is so nauseating and so joyous and so heartbreaking and so exciting
#I'll be sat there like 'I love endings!'#and then when the end actually happens I feel numb#a three chapter conclusion was always the vision#but no amount of emotional training could have prepared me to confront it being over#I genuinely find the whole situation bizarre#because what do you mean that me aimlessly scrolling on Tumblr in 2021 has found me here in 2023#what do you mean that starting a lil' Netflix show back in partial Lockdown altered my brain chemistry for years to come?#I am so grateful to have been a part of this community from the beginning#the experience has been so unbelievably lovely and fulfilling#AND i am so excited to write some essays abt S3 to conclude this story#young royals#young royals netflix#lisa ambjörn#writing#yr s3
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been fighting all day (week really) the urge to just like completely declutter my apartment and get rid of things i don't need because i've been feeling like i have too much stuff and general need to pare things down to bare essential anxiety
and now a half hour before bedtime got news that's making all that whatifhousingisn'tstablegottagetridofeverythingtoomuchstuffhavetohaveonlywhaticanmove anxiety ramp up. and like. first i know going on a cleaning spree isn't actually going to be productive especially bc this is entirely just anxiety and would be acting on the anxiety instead of like any actual need to do so, and. also. a half hour before bed is not the time to start this kind of project. at all.
#i managed to use all my dishes and was like wow i have so many dishes i need to get rid of some of them#when like so many dishes is like i have three bowls and four plates#but also really it's the pots n pans bc i bought a full cooking set way back when i first moved in#but i really only use one pot and one pan that aren't even part of the set for like 90% of my cooking#but the other stuff comes in useful sometimes but also i could manage without them which means i don't need them so i can get rid of them#and this is why gift giving holidays cause me a bunch of anxiety bc like stuff and clutter and too much#plus the added pressure to keep the stuff bc it's rude to get rid of and i got yelled at for getting rid of gifts i didn't want growing up#but yeah trying to make my brain stop screaming before bed is uh AAAAAA
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I read solving counting sheep recently and I truly cannot stop thinking about it
#like esp considering that i dont normally mess with the watcher/listener stuff bc i cannot commit to watching evo#at least not to the level that id really want to understand the story/lore bc i am an obsessive completionist when it comes to this stuff#anyways#god it was incredible what a CONCEPT#i love three sm#idk if the author intended this but it really spoke to me as part of a dissociative system#idk i dont have any cohesive thoughts atm bc my brain has been mush for the past week due to ✨️stress✨️#but i loved it a lot#solving counting sheep#scs#hermitblr#my.txt
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ITS BEEN A MONTH SINCE TLLR CHAPTER 11????? WHAT
#wyrms says stuff#SORRY ITS TAKING FOREVER TO WRITE HOLY SHIT???#i thought it had been like 2 weeks or something#dude i’m actually sorry it’s taking so long to get chapters out#BUT like the next three chapters are all around 2/3 of the way done#i miss those phases where writing becomes sooooo so so easy for me and i write like 3k words a day#i’ve never been able to like stick with a writing schedule#my energy for writing comes and goes as it pleases and it’s been like that all my life. drawing comes naturally#it never bothered me before that i’d just not write for a few months at a time and then suddenly get motivation#to write a shit ton of stuff at once in rapid succession#and it sucks because forcing myself to sit down and write is hard it just doesn’t come super naturally like drawing does.#like forcing myself to draw can be a lot of fun and it’s easy. but honestly i don’t chose when my brain tells me it’s writing time#but that’s probably not a good thing huh#and also i’m like?? SUPER SUPER excited about some of the chapters coming up?? like chapter 14 is THE chapter i’ve been most excited about#since i started this series. AND ITS BASICALLY ALREADY WRITTEN TOO#the parts in between are hard to figure out i’ve realized#and also hard to give myself motivation to write them. im basically just annoyed that writing doesn’t come as naturally as art does for me#and that ever since i started actually writing about my own ocs like 6 years ago#i’ve only been able to write in short bursts of a few months at a time#it’s annoying but it’s a good challenge for me to overcome. i just have to sit down and write and then i’ll get that motivation back#the next chapter should be done very very soon!!!
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“Someday, I'll solve every riddle in the legends of Hisui's Pokémon. And on that day, I'll stand before Arceus at last— No, I will CONQUER it! No matter how many years, how many decades, how many centuries it takes me!”
Rambling Musing under cut
[Addition to this concept]
I can't have been the only person who thought of this; of Volo having died sometime not all that long after the battle at Spear Pillar and because of his excessive spite and hatred, he would come back as a Hisuian Zoroark. I have seen quite a few people do this concept with Akari where she ends up dying during her exile, but I haven't seen it done with Volo after Spear Pillar where he would be at his most vulnerable.
There was one person who had a similar idea whose username I can't remember nor care to, who had an idea (au concept???) of Volo having been a Zoroark the whole time who wanted a better world out of missing the way things used to be pre-human civilization (subtle way of saying he hates humans settling in Hisui and bridging the gap between themselves and pokemon).
Like, I know this is pokemon of all things, but considering the literal fact I made a psycho-analysis of Volo that would prompt practically everyone into going "It's not that deep", I always found it a little too perfect how if one is a believer of the hiker theory or just has any headcanon that he didn't die, that means Volo somehow survived the worst of what was to come after Spear Pillar.
After Spear Pillar, he was emotionally and mentally exhausted and very much not in his right mind because Arceus decided to be a jackass and summon the Azure Flute the moment the spooky plate made its way into the player's hands and set him off again after he calmed down. The anger; the rage and absolute vitriol he felt towards Arceus and still yet so, the player, was still relatively fresh and with his defeat and loss of his greatest ally in getting to Arceus (I mean, I get why he yelled at Giratina but also 🤨?????), that left very large room for recklessness and acting illogically.
Not only that, but with the likelihood that the clans and Galaxy team would catch wind sooner or later that he was the one who opened the rift and nearly destroyed the world by accident in the process then explicitly tried to do so again on purpose, he wouldn't be accepted in any settlement. This also applies to the Ginko Guild: they would want absolutely nothing to do with him once they find out as he'd be a blemish upon their reputation.
So you have a very bitter, very not mentally stable man trying to survive in the wilderness of Hisui almost entirely alone. It's a miracle that in terms of the hiker theory, he manages to survive past that, because the most likely thing that would have happened was him dying— like I can't convey to you just how lucky he was.
But this is ~pokemon~ so of course that didn't happen despite Volo being surprisingly realistic for a character. And to that I query, "what if it did?"
So here we are back at the beginning, Volo died and came back as a Hisuian Zoroark due to his overwhelming spite and hate.
How?
With what I've said previously, I decided that his death would be in the Alabaster Icelands. With there being very dangerous pokemon around, random holes in the ground with steep drops that can easily injure or kill you if you aren't watching where you're going, and deadly blizzards, death is guaranteed for the unprepared. Why would Volo go up that far north if it's so dangerous then— SHH SHUT! I am trying to convey an idea, the minute intricacies are lost on me right now. All I can imagine as of current is that Volo was in the Alabaster Icelands for one reason or another, something happened that was out of his and his pokemon's control and they couldn't save him (I'll tell you this: the cold on its own isn't what would kill him, otherwise his death wouldn't occur because he has his Arcanine.), and he came back as a Zoroark.
Part of the reason for the Alabaster Icelands is that I'm fairly certain? that only those who die— normal Zorua, Zoroark, or humans— there can become Hisuian Zoroark. If they die anywhere else regardless of the other criteria being met I'm pretty sure they can't become Hisuian Zoroarks, so Volo would have to be in the Alabaster Icelands for this to happen to him.
One can only imagine the grief his pokemon felt when they realized the oddly yellow Hisuian Zorua by their trainer's frozen corpse was their trainer. How they would feel that if they knew sooner or were out before it happened, his death would have been avoided. How Lucario, a pokemon that can sense aura, and his beloved Togekiss (because Gamefreak said fuck any visible notion his Roserade cares about him I guess), would instantly know that the Zorua was him.
Now,
for explanations on his appearance and his personality. Since I am unable to draw this digitally without it being immensely more difficult than it should be, I will have to heavily hint towards the symbolism since rarely ever do I draw or write something that is straightforward.
•His color pallette is still a lot like the normal Hisuian Zoroark, aka very white, but the typically red areas in a Hisuian Zoroark's hair and fur are instead the same blonde yellow as his hair from when he was alive. (White and yellow instead of yellow and white huh?)
•The eyes don't look as... narrow... as they should. Strange...
•Is it just me, or does this Zoroark not look as... wispy, as the others?
•Since I do not use color traditionally, I will have to say that the bulbous black areas on his arms and legs are supposed to be a dark red-brown and not a bright red. Hm, wonder why...
•He just has more scars because I personally headcanon Volo as actually having quite a few scars and had that directly translate into his Zoroark appearance.
And now for something lighter (by my standards atleast).
•Upon his becoming a Hisuian Zorua, he gained the ability to understand pokemon and speak with them on their level.
•It took a while for him to figure out how to talk human languages again (like pokeani meowth) and even longer to do so so it sounds natural and not... off (again, pokeani meowth)
•Very spiteful and angry little ball of fluff that simmered down faster than he would have in the even that he didn't die. Since, y'know, your death ultimately being caused by your hatred will make you reevaluate a few things about yourself.
•Loathed not having hands until evolving which only gave him three claws but it's better than useless bitty paws.
•Him calming down much faster and realizing how damaging he was being to himself and to his pokemon by tunnel visioning on figuring out how to usurp Arceus and seeing anything else that wasn't that as being in his way— provided much relief to his team that the person they knew and loved was coming back and not what he was twisting himself into in his downward spiral. (Again, this does happen when he lives, it just takes years rather than like... one)
•Took time to learn how to master casting illusions but the only illusion he can really even do at this point is of himself when he was alive. (Other Hisuian Zoroarks: able to do countless illusions of people and pokemon to varying degrees of accuracy. Hisuian Zoroark!Volo: can only do an illusion of himself but it's absolutely flawless)
•Wears his Celestica pendant at all times (forgot to draw it, don't want to deal with wrestling with my camera phone to retake the picture)
•He also wears his backpack and hat as well; they're not part of the illusion (didn't draw them since I 1. don't know how to draw either and 2. wanted him to be as unobscured as possible)
•He can still be the hiker, it's just that he's a ghost rather than immortal. Yes, his friendly, charismatic demeanor has returned despite him being like this now but there is the difference of a layer of somberness underneath and an even thinner layer of well-concealed vitriol towards Arceus and Arceus alone. (If you've read my post on Quincent and how I interpret Banettes, the same principal of spite functioning as fuel for a flame applies to Hisuian Zoroarks as well. However it is a bit different in that where a grudge functions as the fuel for Banettes animation, spite functions as the tether for Hisuian Zoroarks not moving on in the afterlife. It could be considered "unfinished business" but it's not really the same)
•Yes, this also means his illusion was changed to be that of what he would look like as a hiker rather than when he was in the Ginko Guild (he had figured out that illusion a long time ago since him being mistakenly affiliated with the Guild would be bad and eventually the uniform would become outdated as the Guild would no longer exist in the state it did when he was still alive at the least and would cause people to look at him weirdly)
•Had to get really good at not responding and talking to pokemon or else he garner unwanted attention.
•Can maintain the illusion through being touched so long as he anticipates it, otherwise he kinda just goes poof.
•The illusion obviously goes away when he's asleep and starts to wane when he's tired.
•He maintains the illusion for as long as he can upon awakening but it is incredibly draining on him to focus on maintaining it for such a long stretch of time that he does end up tired far quicker than if he simply didn't do it for so long or so often.
•Can also partially cast the illusion and look uncannily inhuman. +The illusion starts to wane when he's experiencing strong emotions since he can't focus on maintaining it and it's kinda terrifying to see some guy slowly be engulfed in billowing smoke with no known source out of nowhere and watch his features warp and shift into something very much not human.
•His moveset does not contain bitter malice by the time of pokemon platinum.
(•Just for those wondering, no he doesn't blame Akari/Dawn in any way for his death and very much acknowledges it to be no one's fault but his)
•There is also the question of "if Volo is Cynthia's ancestor but he died before he could have children, does she just not exist?" and the answer is: she still does, but she's Cogita's direct descendant now and not Volo's. (wtf is up with Celestica genes? Yeah a lot of the other characters in PLA have descendants that look almost identical to them, but with Cogita, Volo, and Cynthia, we have three people from a single bloodline that have MANY generations between them— that is, if you headcanon Cogita as being Volo's ancestor— and they hardly look any different. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEIR GENES??? Also forgot about Cynthia's sister who doesn't have a canon design but if Cynthia is any indication...
•Ghost types have the ability of distinctly knowing something's up when he's casting the illusion of himself and basically look at him like '🤨'. Kinda difficult to keep a straight face when a swarm of gastly are just staring unblinkingly at you like "tf is this". +Normal living Zoroarks can instantly tell that he isn't human and get the wrong idea thinking he's trying to trick someone rather than him clinging to the humanity he had.
#【𝙿 𝚁 𝙸 𝚂 𝙼】#volo#didn't want to add further extraneous information in the main post but#i /do/ hc that arceus created the celestica in its image and that their hair floats upward after reaching a certain length#(why part of volo's hair remains down when the bun is undone) and that all celestica have grey eyes and blonde hair that gradually becomes#more and more white as they age‚ but this is kinda ridiculous when it comes to how potent their genes are#just.... arceus that is /vanity/. it took who knows how many generations between volo and cynthia with his descendants procreating with#other non-celestica to create cynthia whose hair only curls up at the very ends and not all of it. again same thing likely applies to her#sister. like.... w/ the other pla characters we just have them + the descendant so the fact they look alike isn't as baffling as three very#distanced generations. then there's the pla characters that barely have a resemblance to anyone in the future#like some ppl hc that may is irida's descendant bc of the hair‚ some ppl hc that leon and hop are laventon's descendants#i strongly hc that penny is melli's descendant bc they literally have the same eyeshape and considering melli used to be a self-conscious#shy kid just like penny before becoming a prick as an adult‚ penny is probably what he was like as a kid‚ snark and all + the shyness#(don't get me started on her having a friendship evo and the only pkmn that evolves through love as her ace whereas melli's golbat refuses#to evolve bc it doesn't like him all that much & his pkmn are poison which are the weakness to penny's ace sylveon which is fairy)#i kinda halfway hc that adaman is arven's ancestor due to that one fanart of arven having his hair pulled back and styled like adaman's and#i was like 🤔 he /does/ kinda look like him‚ huh. but that's so funny actually bc arven's parents look nothing like adaman which only#implies adaman just went 'YOU don't get my genes and YOU don't get my genes‚ but you? you're cool' ahshdjdan#yes i just used the tags to talk abt this instead of putting it in the main post bc if i didn't talk about it at all my brain would be mad
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was thinking about another observation i want to put into my hypothetical mouth congress video essay whenever i get around to actually making it and i had to take a step back like "jess you already have so much you want to cover how long is this video essay going to be"
and then i remembered that interview where paul bellini said the original cut of the mouth congress documentary was over three hours and "nobody wants to watch that, even those of us in the band couldn't watch it!" (side note i would watch that. release the bellini cut lmao)
anyway idk exactly how long this imaginary video essay is going to be but if it's even one minute over the length of the mouth congress documentary (which i believe is an hour and sixteen minutes?) i'm putting that interview clip as the opening bc of the irony
#''nobody wants to watch someone talking about mouth congress for three hours'' it's me i want to watch myself talk about them for 3 hours#anyway idk when i'll get around to making the video essay but it's actually part of a series of video essays i plan to make#i want to go through kids in the hall season-by-season and do an analysis of the way the show evolved and what makes their humor so unique#then do a top 10 sketches of each season as a chance to talk more at length about specific sketches/characters i like#kind of similar in format to TheRealJims's simpsons video essays (which are some of my favorites go check them out)#but for mine i'd also want to try and interview other people about their favorite kith things#like definitely any other fans who want to be part of it (@ kith mutuals here especially)#but also like who knows maybe tavie will want to be interviewed or maybe i can get paul to share some behind the scenes stuff#but in addition to going season-by-season i also want to do a few extra videos#like a retrospective of brain candy/death comes to town (they're paired together bc a lot of my takes come in the weird pairing of the two)#a whole video exploring the expanded buddy cole universe (this one will need a ton of extra research but basically anything outside kith)#and of course a video essay on mouth congress#i also want to do a casual video where i try and see just how many kith characters canonically exist in the same universe#bc they have a habit of putting little callbacks into their sketches that reference other characters#so i wanna make a web of everyone who could hypothetically run into each other
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wait you got me so invested in the stammer & heddy tailor au....
this is my standard disclaimer that i have never posted a fic on ao3* and for however much i say “au” i truly mean that it’s a universe that lives in my head & i am absolutely delighted to tell you all about, all the time <3 if it helps i ALSO got me so invested in the heddy & stammer tailor au
ok now that the author’s note is out of the way here’s some notes about the not!fic heddy & stammer tailor au:
stammer as the tailor from gent’s playbook, very reserved, quiet, with an excellent eye for details (honestly the evidence i have for his style sense is just that he’s best friends with pk subban so it has to be there somewhere if only by proxy irl) is hired by victor hedman, star of the tampa bay lightning who is every other tailor’s nightmare to dress (huge, opinionated, fashionable)
heddy is decently well-known throughout the league for being very well-dressed & becomes quietly well known for also being one of his new tailor’s favorite loyal customers [heddy has the nicest fabrics. he has his suits the first day a new collection drops & e v e r y o n e is jealous]
stammer’s business booms after heddy takes a chance on him as his first big client & promotes him, heddy sees him grow in popularity & get more clients
heddy also moonlights as a model for stammer’s suits on instagram, initially to help him grow his business because then he won’t have to pay for a model and then because he’s over there all the time anyway because they’re dating (that’s why the model’s face is never in the pictures)
there’s not really a plot to this besides the vague idea of a plot where stammer makes heddy his lucky suit that he wins the cup in & sews a special little tag into the lining of his jacket that says i love you
because love sometimes is picking out the perfect right color pocket square to match your husband’s beautiful suit that you fitted like a kiss to the curves of his huge body
& also sometimes love is making your beautiful husband who makes you beautiful clothing enjoy nice things for himself once in a while, like the fancy watch you bought him or the nice suit you custom-ordered for him (from him) just so you could take it off of him
#*i did very much post a zine on ao3 that was part of a really fun exchange that i loved doing (thank you leah for organizing!!!)#& had a fantastic time with however i have not strictly speaking posted a fic. one day i will. eventually. hopefully. pray for me :)#also one time my horoscope told me i was a ‘neutral projector’ & i’ve never felt more called out (‘loves making up things’/‘will not#actually write or plot but will explain every intricate detail of their world & character relationships’/‘hype up every member of the#writing chat & give good advice but never follow it’) like HI CAN U NOT DO THIS TO ME HOROSCOPE THANKS i was read to FILTH#liv in the replies#i do LOOOOOVE me a good one of them plays hockey the other one does not au sometimes they’re so fun to explore dynamics outside/inside sport#at the time i came up with this stammer was out on IR & heddy kept showing up to the playoffs in ridiculously nice suits what was i to do??#the gent’s playbook tailor will sometimes model his own suits w/o showing his own face which made it look like he had a secret model come in#heddy canonically says his suits make him feel better when he plays esp during playoffs & if he wins in a suit he’ll keep wearing it#oh also the truth of the love is in the pocket square bit? angela price i will never forget. anyway that blue suit i posted in the last ask#with the perfect pink pocket square? that pocket square is a pair of stammer’s boxers heddy took To Me. in my brain#me about the beautiful clothing: this is like daisy crying in gatsby’s silk shirts except it’s baby alpaca fur & also it’s not sad#it’s simply decadent & the inherent intimacy of a fitting mapping the body yada yada yada knowing the ways to flatter someone is a form#of loving them etc etc. love is art love is food love is given love is stored in the custom three-piece suit and tie#is this an enemies to lovers? workplace drama? is the secret plot i only just now invented & added that heddy is ‘difficult to work with’#but it’s just because he wants to look good & in the words of his own (real) tailor the hardest guy to fit because he’s so big? OHHH HOLD IT#I GOT THE PLOT IN THE TAGS Y’ALL AND IT’S STAMMER TEACHING HEDDY TO LOVE HIS BODY heddy who’s been told what to/not wear & you know.#the commodification of the body in hockey (but we’re not getting that deep) but stammer with a mouth full of pins tightening heddy’s pant#leg down even further as he listens to what heddy wants for once & lets him pick fabrics (this is the daisy shirt moment but it’s heddy#looking at fabric swatches dozens of books of them stammer helps him pick out matching linings &outsides &squares) & stammer compliments him#& they’re in love & idk NEARLY enough abt fashion but there r like codes? messages? to wearing suits i think w/the etiquette so that too#should this have also gone under a readmore? yeah probably. whoops#victor hedman#steven stamkos#tampa bay lightning
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have been thinking about obbligato x death, thrice drawn by the scary jokes. specifically as being about the beginning and the development of tatsumi and kaname’s fated relationship, with himeru’s perspective cut in. in general the religious/apocalyptic imagery would fit tatsumi and the reimei revolution. while the chorus is tatsukana before it all went wrong, the last verse is himeru in the aftermath of it.
#anyone knows the song.#anyways of course having three people and making it nonlinear too changes what some parts would mean#the everything you know is all wrong part is current day himeru @ tatsumi#unbaptized decline is kaname when he loses the special student status and first seeks out tatsumi in the catacombs#or no better yet it’s the scene in the dorms specifically. kaname’s breakdown#anyways you can try and play a little animatic in your brain. mine doesn’t really work like that but i have a vague idea of it#enstars#obbligato#fingers crossed me misinterpreting a song a bit doesn’t show up in its tag:|#but yea. come join me in never escaping obbligato#i read some stuff i posted here after reading it bc i know that i fact checked myself#this way i didn’t have to go back to my screenshots. that would be too much for me and i wouldn’t be able to sleep
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losing the idgaf war
#kommento#// playing spltoon flopping at every level and dying yelling TAKE MEEE take my brain and cradle it nicely take me into your care#// successfully fading into obscurity because im not necessarily popular nd slandering my own name further so it's smeared in history books#// and my legacy dies an untimely death if I ever had one and leave nothing behind and this gas station dissappears into the fog#// that I couldn't be the one in people's mouths when they think about this One Guy that I was no competition to anyone else#// in this so-called 'community' that was so hostile and volatile to me because I had standards and I projected too hard for my own good#// not that ive been badgered or hurt or maimed or anything i dont think i would even still be in this hellhole if that ever were the case#// but im in this specific pocket of fndom are full of freaks and i want to appease most of them and make a name for myself#// —ambitious i know— majority of these people ARE freaks and so the people who are popular ARE freak themselves#// so techincally im trying to appeal to three people but i want more when it's technically not possible#// and im a little bitch so i hate the turnout ?? this is why i'll never be satisfied in here but ive been still kicking crying and going#// i wish i wasnt a hater i wish the things i dont want to see werent so physically revolting that my heart sinks and i see red#// i wish it was a more minor thing where im a hater for about 50% of it and i can Easily Dismiss it#// than hatership being a part of my personality#// that I've earned so little and lost so much but everyone and everything that I've loved is so genuine and real and too much#// that the stakes of doing something is so high like it's gambling itself that I'm not too sure I'm satisfied with my time here#// despite all the things I believed were good that's happened already#// that if I leave right now on the fickle decisiveness of the squirrel in my brain there would be things on this figurative bucket list I#// never have accomplished and I'm not too sure I can come back to do it because of my home that looks like war trenches itself#// all this time and love I've put into this world and I'm stubborn and selfish enough to believe I have not received what I am due#// and that this love and dedication was never received by enough people as I perceive#// sorry for being a baby's first but my time here in this pit of hell has been th absolute worst and most horrid of other fndoms I've been#// and while I practice the inherent belief I am the scum of the earth and the worst person alive#// and that I leave the things I love so much behind with wordless and meaningless abandonment#// I've made so much and shared so much that enough of my love was perceived by others and that#// I've at least left myself some things behind even if it has never reached others the way I humbly wished it to#// lmao like I'm writing an overly dramatic resignation letter and I leave it front desk and when I exit the building it#// either completely disappears behind me or keeps standing but stay unmaintained for the duration I'm gone#// people could still come and go or I could make it disappear myself. I think I've done a good job at making it easy to do that#// sorry for being dramatic ? idk how to give closure on this if the time ever comes or if this Is The Closure
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pondering my orb
#personal#it appears i have fallen victim to the situationship industrial complex#this little arrangement i found myself in has escalated from ‘friends who hook up’ to ‘boyfriend without the boy’#and it is becoming lets say emotionally distressing#because i am leaving town for the summer in just three short weeks! and for the past two months we have spent every free moment together#and putting our own individual codependent tendencies aside i really do like him#i havent been alone long enough to shift my brain out of girlfriend mode#because the thing is i loved being a girlfriend#apparently it was a significant part of my identity#which i didnt really realize until i wasnt one anymore#and i miss it!#i dont even miss the boyfriend i was the girlfriend of particularly#i just miss being a girlfriend i think#and now i have found a man who i would very much like to be the girlfriend of#hes respectful and emotionally intelligent and he fucks me so good and we have a lot of fun together i think#but the thing is is that i cant be a girlfriend again#because since it was such a significant part of my identity now that i am no longer a girlfriend i have lost that piece#and i guess i dont know what is supposed to go in its place#who am i if not girlfriend? what do i do when i am not girlfriending? who do i talk to when its not my boyfriend?#my life purpose is certainly not ‘girlfriend’#i mean its not supposed to be. i was pretty happy with it but everyone in my life is telling me thats not what im supposed to do#so what am i supposed to do???? i dont like being alone i dont want to be#i want to be girlfriend!!!!!!!#i was happy and i felt fulfilled#sure it was for the wrong person but the right one will come along#im not very good at the whole casual dating thing though. i mean clearly#because this man is probably not boyfriend material either#as much as i like him it is questionable whether he deserves my girlfriending#so how does one find ‘the’ boyfriend?#is it a futile exercise in the first place
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[3k] too many shots and a bet leads to a very interesting night out. it's just a shame neither of them can remember it and the whole world is discovering the details alongside with them.
series masterlist
.
RING! RING!
The first thing you were painfully aware of was the annoying shrill of your phone echoing from some distant corner of the room.
RING! RING!
The second thing was the fact you had forgotten to close the blinds last night, meaning the blinding rays of the Nevada sun were doing their best job in dragging you out of your comforting slumber like irritating parasites.
RING! RING!
And the third thing was that whoever was trying to call you was seemingly very insistent to get in contact with you, if the three calls in a row (that you were so far aware of) were anything to go by.
RING! RING!
“Oh my god,” you groaned as you pulled the edges of the pillow over your ears, hoping it would muffle the ringing shrills. But when the phone continued to ring and the noise only seemed to get louder, you were forced to throw your hand out and blindly try to grasp the cursed device in hopes of making the noise stop.
Your fingers wrapped around the buzzing phone, your eyes still firmly kept shut as you kept tapping the screen until the ringing stopped before you brought it to your ear. “You better have a good fucking reason for calling me.”
“I hope you are doing something you enjoy.”
You frowned, your brain taking a few moments to process the voice coming through. “Arthur?”
“Like, I hope you are fulfilling your lifelong wish right now.”
“What the fuck are you on about?” You grumbled, exhaustion hitting your body just as badly as the rays of sunlight shining through the open blinds were. “It’s too early for your riddles.”
“I am just saying that I think you should be doing something you love before Charles kills you.”
You let out a non-committing hum. “And why would he kill me?”
“Many reasons but I think getting married in Vegas last night is easily the top of the list right now.”
Your eyes shot open when you heard the words leave Arthur’s mouth. It felt like ice had doused your entire body as you quickly sat up in the hotel bed, now painfully aware of the pounding headache that only tequila could give you.
“WHAT?”
“Congrats, by the way. I do pity the poor guy you locked up though.”
Now painfully aware of the situation, your eyes grabbing onto any detail that would hopefully prove your brother wrong. Unfortunately, all you seemed to find was evidence that he was telling the truth if the white dress, the horribly large costume jewelry ring on your finger and the abandoned veil with ‘NEW BRIDE’ on the floor were anything to go by.
“Oh my fucking god,” you breathed out, feeling though as you were going to empty your stomach’s contents any moment now. “How do you know? Why didn’t you stop me?!”
“I wasn’t with you! I just opened Twitter and found pictures of my sister outside a wedding chapel and all over some random guy!”
“I married a stranger,” you hissed out, your lips parting in shock. Tequila made you do many questionable things, but even this was bad for you.
“He’s your husband, it’s a bit offensive to call him a stranger.”
“Arthur, I swear to god—” You cut yourself off as your eyes fell on the large lump in the bed next to you. It took you an embarrassingly long time to realise it was another human. It took you even longer to tear your eyes away from the cheap suit he was wearing before you looked up at his face. “Oh my fucking god.”
“What?”
“Charles is going to kill me,” you breathed out, your heart pounding like it was lodged in your throat.
“Yes, we established that when I called you—”
“Charles is going to kill me when he finds out I married Max,” you continued, lost in your own daze that you barely acknowledge your spluttering brother on the other side of the phone.
“YOU MARRIED MAX VERSTAPPEN?!”
Unfortunately for Arthur’s sake, you quickly hung up the phone. You could barely process the fact the Dutch driver was currently passed out on the bed next to you, let alone doing so with your brother screeching in your ear the whole time. The phone was abandoned on the bed as you stared at the Dutchman, your brain working on overdrive as you tried to work out what to do next.
So, you did what any reasonable person would do and shoved him off the bed.
“OW!”
You froze for a moment before you crawled over to the other side of the bed, peaking over the edge and down at Max who was currently groaning on the floor from his impromptu wake up call.
“What the fuck was that about?” He grumbled, blinking a few times before he realised who was hovering over him. “What the fuck are you doing in my hotel room?”
“This is actually my hotel room,” you replied.
“Oh,” he muttered. “Then, what the fuck am I doing in your hotel room?”
“Well, it’s what a married couple do,” you commented.
Max’s brows furrowed together. “What?”
You lifted your left hand, the ring now on display and you could practically see the cogs turning in his head before the realisation hit him. “Do you think this counts as our honeymoon?”
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
...
...
“How did this happen?”
“Tequila,” you muttered with your nose scrunched in disgust as you watched the Dutchman begin to pace the hotel room. If you cared enough, you would be concerned about him wearing down the carpet. Though as of the current moment, your priorities were currently elsewhere.
Max turned to look down at the certificate he had found stranded beside your veil on the floor, your names and signatures clearly printed on the piece of paper—which took out the small piece of hope that this was just some elaborate prank set up by Arthur.
“How did we get that drunk though?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together. If he wasn’t so confused, he would be more embarrassed at the fact he clearly couldn’t handle his alcohol as well as he once could.
“Well, it’s your fault,” you commented casually, which had the boy whirling around to face you.
“How is this my fault?” Max scoffed.
“You made the bet!”
Max’s frown deepened. “What bet?”
“At the hotel bar,” you stated like it was a basic fact he should have remembered. “When I bumped into you—”
“We bumped into each other,” Max chided.
“—you were the one to suggest shots,” you pointed out.
Max gave you a look. “How is that a bet?”
“Because you said I couldn’t outdrink you. I said you would be a sore loser. And then you bought us ten shots each.”
He blinked. “Huh.”
“I’m pretty sure it was also your idea to go to another bar afterwards when we got kicked out the hotel bar,” you said in a sing-song voice.
Max scoffed. “Absolutely not. You were the one that said only losers go to bed after one bar.”
You shrugged. “I stand by it.”
Max let out a laugh, a little breathless like he was trying to hide it. He shook his head, glancing down at the certificate one more time before shrugging. “It’s not really that bad, to be honest. A bit embarrassing, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them.”
Your expression turned sheepish. “About that…”
“Who knows?” He asked in a blunt voice.
“Well, Arthur knows,” you started.
“That’s not that bad,” Max scoffed, his shoulders relaxing. “Wait. Charles doesn’t know, does he?”
“Not yet,” you said before quickly continuing. “But he probably will because the paparazzi caught us last night and now the pictures are all over the internet.”
Max blinked. “AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO START WITH THAT?”
“You’re grumpy when you wake up!” You defended, watching as the boy rolled his eyes at you.
“The whole world thinks we are married!” Max countered before sputtering out a laugh. “Well, we are married. Or we aren’t. I’m still not totally sure but I don’t need your brother chopping off my balls over it!”
“He wouldn’t!”
Max shot you a look.
“Okay, he would,” you grimaced before giving him a shaky smile. “But he doesn’t know yet so we should be in the clear—”
BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
...
...
“Okay, I have good news and bad news.”
Max looked at you expectantly. “And?”
“Bad news: Charles now knows,” you said with a shaky smile. “Good news: he doesn’t know it’s you!”
Max pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to rub soothing circles. “Fucking hell.”
“But also bad news: he is coming here right now as we speak so we should probably—” You started, fully set on grabbing what you needed and hiding out somewhere else in the hotel until Charles calmed down. However, your plans were put on hold when you heard a groan from the bathroom.
“CAN YOU BOTH PLEASE SHUT UP?”
Your gaze caught Max’s as you stared at each other, both with expressions mixed between confusion and surprise. A few seconds passed before you were both clambering off the bed, heading towards the bathroom where you threw the door open and scrambled to turn on the light before you both froze in the doorway at the sight in front of you.
“Now that was unnecessary.”
You gaped at the sight of Yuki curled up in the bathtub, dressed in a similar looking suit to the one Max was wearing along with what you were certain was the shower curtain placed over him like a blanket. He had a pillow behind his head and sunglasses over his eyes, and for all intents and purposes, he looked fairly comfortable.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out. “I married two drivers last night?!”
“I hope you at least married me before Yuki,” Max grumbled, only to let out a small wince when you elbowed him. “God, you’re a difficult wife.”
“Kinda going through something,” you snapped back before your eyes moved back to the Japanese driver. “I can’t believe I married you and Yuki.”
The driver in the tub let out a scoff mixed with a laugh. “Please, you didn’t marry me. You’re not my type.”
You blinked, unsure whether or not you should have been offended by his comment.
“The ring on your finger says otherwise, mate,” Max commented, the ring a matching one with the one that was currently on your left hand.
“I married someone but not you,” Yuki said as he waved you off, nuzzling his face back into the pillow. “And our wedding was much classier than yours.”
“I—” You frowned. “You remember?”
“Yeah, you said you wanted witnesses,” Yuki grumbled, bringing the shower curtain up until it was tucked under his chin. “You also dragged Lando out so he would take your photos.”
Max gaped. “Lando was there? Lando knows?!”
“Yes, now can you please go bother him?” Yuki muttered under his breath. “And turn the lights off as you leave. Only wake me up when you order food.”
...
...
“Don’t make me an accomplice in your crimes.”
“Shut up and let us in.”
You weren’t surprised to find that Lando and Logan were already in the room, both with looks of amusement on their faces as they watched you and Max wander in—still dressed in your wedding clothes from the night before.
You wanted to slap the smug looks off their face.
“Is it really a good idea to hide here?” Max asked as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling as though the headache pounding through his head had nothing to do with the alcohol he consumed last night and more to do with the mess you both had created.
“It buys us time,” you insisted.
“On the chance that Arthur doesn’t rat you out,” Logan added.
“You told Arthur where I was?” Your eyes widened before you turned to look at Oscar. “Do you want me dead?”
“You know, something about the way you’re wording that makes me feel like it’s a trick question,” Oscar commented with a suspicious look on his face.
“Oh my god, I’m going to die today,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head.
“It’s kinda romantic that you guys will die together,” Lando chimed in as he grinned between you and Max.
“If I survive today, I’m going to run you over,” Max threatened with a strained smile on his lips.
Lando snorted, shrugging. “Yeah but the chances of that happening are low so…”
“Your brother doesn’t even know my room number,” Oscar pointed out. “It will take him ages to convince the desk to give it to him or even hunt—”
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“This is what English teachers meant when they taught us poetic irony,” Lando laughed, all giddy and happy.
“Like you paid attention,” you grumbled, eyes narrowing on the boy before you turned back to the door. “Don’t answer it.”
Oscar’s eyes widened. “I can’t not answer it.”
“Yes, you can,” you said bluntly. “Just don't open the door.”
“He knows we are in here,” he hissed.
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“OPEN UP! I CAN HEAR YOU! SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD—”
“Even more reason not to open the door,” you said, pressing your lips together to hide the wince that you wanted to let out as Charles thumped on the door again.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Max grumbled as he quickly stood up, ignoring your pleas to just pretend your brother didn’t exist. He reached the door, yanked it open and braced himself for the wrath of an angry Charles Leclerc.
Much to his surprise, the Monegasque barged straight past him and headed straight for Oscar instead.
“You!” Charles gritted out through clenched teeth as he reached to grab Oscar’s collar, firsting the material in his hands. “What do you have to say to yourself?”
Oscar’s eyes widened as Charles backed him into a wall. “What?!”
“Marrying my sister in Vegas? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Charles continued.
It didn’t take long for Lando to descend into a fit of giggles, practically on the floor if it weren’t for the fact Logan was keeping him on the bed. Somewhere still standing by the door, Arthur stood with an amused look on his face that only grew wider when he saw your confused and shocked expression too.
“I didn’t marry your sister!” Oscar said to him, trying to push the boy away but he was latched on tightly. “I was literally in bed by nine!”
“Loser,” Logan grumbled under his breath.
Charles faltered, his eyebrows furrowing together. “What?”
“I wasn’t the guy to marry your sister,” Oscar repeated, finally managing to pull Charles’ hands off him. “I don’t think there is enough alcohol in the world for me to do that.”
“First Yuki and now him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“If you didn’t marry her, then who did?” Charles questioned.
It was almost comical how quickly everyone turned to look at Max, who was still standing by the door and looked like he was contemplating just dashing out the room.
“You,” Charles muttered out, his eyes narrowing on the Dutchman.
“In my defence,” Max started as he gave the boy a smile, though it didn’t seem as confident as he was hoping it would be. “I didn’t know I married her either.”
“I am right here,” you huffed. “Jesus Christ.”
“I am going to—”
“Nothing. You’re going to do nothing,” you jumped in, taking a step so you were blocking his line of vision of Max. “It’s just a…phoney, fake marriage. It’s not that big of a deal, Charles. People will forget by next weekend anyways.”
“Uh,” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s actually very legal all over the US and in some other places—”
“Shut up, Logan.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Charles narrowed his eyes on you. “You’re not allowed to marry him.”
“I already did,” you pointed out with a sheepish expression.
“I don’t care.”
“Charles,” you stepped towards him, though the boy still looked like he was contemplating parading into the paddock with Max’s head on a stick. “Charlie, please. Don’t do something stupid because you’re annoyed.”
“I want to cut his dick off,” Charles told you.
“I know.”
“And you can no longer have alcohol unsupervised.”
“That’s a tad dramatic.”
“And no consummating the marriage.”
“That would be difficult to do if you cut off his dick anyways.”
“Can we stop talking about my dick?” Max chimed in with his hands locked in front of him, almost protectively.
Charles sighed. “But I promise I won’t kill either of you. Today.”
You grinned as you reached towards your brother, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”
“You should tell Maman before she finds out through the internet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Maybe shower first. You stink of tequila.”
“That would be kinda hard to do considering Yuki is currently asleep in my bathtub,” you commented.
Charles opened his mouth to reply but just shook his head. “I’m not even gonna ask.”
“Good, because I don’t have answers,” you murmured with your lips turned down. “And he’s really snappy when you try to get them from him.”
Charles snorted.
“So, that’s it?” Lando suddenly spoke up from behind you both. “God, that was not worth getting out of bed for. I expected more drama.”
“I’m still pissed at you,” you told the Brit, who just grinned.
“I’ll send you the photos later, don’t you worry,” he said like he didn’t just hear the words that left your mouth. “Maybe one of them will inspire angry Charles again.”
“Please don’t,” Max grumbled.
“It won’t be necessary because we are finding a divorce lawyer,” Charles stated simply, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he began making his way to the door, nodding for Arthur to follow him. “Both of you get dressed. We are leaving in an hour.”
Both you and Max gaped at the boy, but he didn’t notice.
“And someone take one for the team and wake up Yuki. I vote Lando.”
Lando frowned. “Woah, wait a second–”
“ONE HOUR PEOPLE!!”
...
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 133,728 others
yourusername call me mrs verstappen
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oscarpiastri sometimes i wonder if you just enjoy pushing charles over the edge
yourusername yes
user WHAT
user it was real?????
user oh my god IT WAS MAX?
user someone sedate me
user this is some wattpad level stuff wtf the book tropes????
user i need to know how charles reacted when he found out
arthur_leclerc badly
maxverstappen1 i mean it was an accidental name but i guess it suits you
yourusername you like meeeee, admit it :)
maxverstappen1 i think i legally have to agree because you're my wife
yourusername damn don't sound too enthusiastic about it
user i just know charles lost years of his life over this
landonorris uh photo creds?
yourusername no
landonorris rude
charles_leclerc take this down
yourusername no
charles_leclerc you are a leclerc, not a verstappen
yourusername the marriage certificate says otherwise
charles_leclerc please stop reminding me
pascaleleclerc welcome to the family maxverstappen1
charles_leclerc MAMAN?????
maxverstappen1 thank you? i think?
pascaleleclerc dinner will be at 6 when you are back in monaco
maxverstappen1 yes ma'am
charles_leclerc MAMAN WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON????
.
#max verstappen#formula one#f1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen fic#max verstapppen one shot#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,682
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language
A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.
And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.
Life fucking hated you.
Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.
The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!
Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.
Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.
Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.
You could not show up to the wedding alone.
Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?
You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?
Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.
“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.
“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.
Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.
Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.
“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.
Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!
“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.
“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.
You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!
“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.
You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.
“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”
“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”
“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”
“Yes.”
Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.
”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”
”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“
For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.
”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”
“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.
He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?
”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down
”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”
You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.
”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”
“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”
Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.
”Great, lucky me.”
Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”
“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”
“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.
”Well shit, that’s a first!”
”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”
”Nope.”
You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.
”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”
With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”
”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”
In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.
It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.
It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.
“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.
“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”
Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.
“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”
“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”
“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”
“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”
You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”
“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”
The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.
You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.
You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.
“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”
“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”
“Why did he break up with you?”
“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”
You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.
You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.
”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.
“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”
”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”
”Eh!?”
Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.
The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.
You owed Haibara big time for this.
After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.
“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”
You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.
”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”
“Awesome, thanks a lot.”
As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.
”You seriously think I believe that?”
Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.
“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”
Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.
”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.
”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”
The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.
It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.
“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.
”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.
Oh, he was fucked.
(TBC)
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something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…
includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe
note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!
link to part two + link to part three
i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.
no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.
no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.
and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.
the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.
so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.
things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.
conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…
one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.
when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.
a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.
gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.
"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"
while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.
"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"
"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."
he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.
"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"
the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"
"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.
the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.
"miss what, daddy?"
"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."
"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-
"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"
"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.
"jeez kid, just answer the question."
she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.
she doesn't budge.
"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."
with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.
"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"
ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.
"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."
she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."
"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."
20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk imagines
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