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#the more i read my own tags the more im sure no one understands
beautifel · 5 months
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seems like my heart does nothing but break lately
#oh my god dont read the tags. it breaks for everyone :( but on a more personal level#for my gf whos sinking deeper into something n i cant even help bc im a wreck myself but i am so so scared to lose her#still havent even been able to book a psych appointment n i rlly dont know where to go with all these ..em*tions#Guys i rlly dont understand one thing. how come one random freak whos in ur life at some point can derail a whole person like eons later#jeopardise their whole future just by crossing some lines for funz i really dont understand this#not fair not fair at all this is evil#and becasue u got unlucky someone wanted to be disgusting u have to carry the consequences#i rly still cant even say it i still cant even write it#i dont even know how . irl the only perosn i told in some capacity#is dealing with her own trauma and i hate that jsut being understanding is not enoughlike#Wow Lmao Its just Funny How it Shapes You. & U Can Never bury it forever becuz it will always catch up to you😂😂😂😂😂😂#AND THE PAST CAN NEVER BE ERASED 😃😃😁😁😂😂😂🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔪🔪#at least my gf has been taking steps to deal with it for.3 yrs and i just never even#LOL i feel like such a coward but the sh*me and the g**lt associated with the Thing..r so overwhelming i cant even admit it#what would i even do at the psych appointment like straight up what am i gonna say Lol#hai iam here to process something i dont actually remember probably becasue i was a child but imnot sure. n id rather#kms than tell u how i know 😂. So thats also why my heart breaks. for that little girl who was a ball of shame i guess and no matter#how much i cognitively.like rationally know its not my fault the ball of shame n guilt is still there#n it swallows me every time i vaguely start 2 think about acknowledging the Th*ng#or whatever. And thats just my end of the deal but my gf has it worse genuinely bc she remembers everything n still has to see the freak#n it went on for yrs n her family doesnt know n heres the worst thing hes a beloved family member a sweet boy with struggles of his own#well i hope he walks into traffic for doing what he did to her
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sparring-spirals · 2 years
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imogen being drained by her rudimentary hold on her psychic abilites vs resorting to mind reading bc she just has to get answers to any question that pops in her head and she has a hard time w frustration vs relying on what causes her immense pain as her only way to trust that they're being honest even if it means risking learning something she really didn't want to vs being repeatedly told to announce herself by ppl who unknowingly don't announce themselves on the regular vs so much more
and to add onto my messy "imogen vs" ask idk if it's the right wording and this is pure projection but: the way her relationship to her powers is transpiring kinda makes me feel the same way my ocd makes me feel like idk it's very very interesting and fascinating to me. i'm not sure exactly how to put it and which exemples to give (the character limit doesn't help my rambly nature) so this is a bit of an empty ask but yeah.... anyways keep sharing your thoughts it's always interesting! take care
First of all: thank you! You take care of yourself too. :D
Secondly: Hmmmmm. Okay. Gonna be straightforward here, I'm not sure my askbox/this space is the best option/conduit for this particular ask/line of thought, if only because. I think there is something specific in this you are resonating with/prodding at that draws from you personally, that you're trying to puzzle out.
Which! Is generally a valid and fine way to engage with media and is how some excellent metas are written. I think a lot of Imogen's struggles and characterizations resonate with a variety of mental/physical struggles, and there are so many goddamn layers to read it with. (This excellent post by @mysticalspiders comes to mind).
But also, I am not you, and so I don't feel particularly confident in interpreting something that is serving as a catalyst for your thoughts, in part because I'm absolutely going to interpret it differently, which can land differently if you're drawing from a very personal place when interpreting it.
(You don't have to feel bad about it, or anything, this is also a more general PSA so folks are aware before sending in headcanons/more indulgent projections/extensive theories- not because I dislike them necessarily, but because. I take asks for me to provide Opinions Or Analysis on things.
I definitely interpret things My Way, which can be different than intended, or even a more general "I have no thoughts about this, actually", which can land unpleasantly when people are invested or personally invested in their line of thought.
So, largely to play it safe, I'm going to say here, and also more generally, that I might not engage as much with what I understand as largely indulgent/personal hcs/metas that come through my askbox).
That aside, to the first part alone, I will say that: Yeah Imogen's brain is almost certainly going through a number of tug-of-wars and damage control at all times, and it makes her a very, very fascinating character to pull apart and poke. Definitely feel you on that. 👌
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pierregazly · 13 days
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the bookworm ꨄ george russell smau
george russell x bookworm/writer!reader
the one where george couldn't be prouder to call you his, even if it seems like the whole world hates you just for doing what you love... even if they don't know the whole truth.
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georgerussell63
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liked by yourusername, alex_albon, f1wags, and others
georgerussell63 enjoyed the time off! would never complain about spending time with my best friend, time to get back into things 💪🏎
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username gotta go check off 'george posts shirtless pics during off szn' on my bingo card
username gotta go check off 'yn cares more about her own hobby than her bf' on my bingo card
username girl you got issues with books? can't read?
alex_albon bad hair day? or are hats your new thing
yourusername tried to convince him to go with the bucket hat, but he claims 'all the kids are wearing caps babe'
username girlypop can't even enjoy a holiday with george without being focused on anything other than him??
username he's literally NECKING her in one of the photos?????? do you want her to koala hold him everywhere???
username future wdc russell george and his future writer wife frfr
username 1/2 of these things are probably true and we both know it's not the second lol
yourusername spoiling me always, my handsome handsome man 💗
georgerussell63 wouldn't have spent the last few weeks with anyone else (even if you kick me in your sleep nightly)
username do you think yourusername pictures george as the main male character in any of the books she reads???
username if i can picture him in fanfiction, im sure she pictures him in everything else???
gisèlerosebooks
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liked by yourusername, lilymhe, username, and others
gisèlerosebooks first time being on any device since my trip with my favourite person ended. the love on collided continues to amaze me, and i'm so extremely honoured to continuously receive so much love from not only the reading community, but many of the formula 1 faithful as well. this is NOT the end of the journey, either. for now, let the formula 1 season begin... and maybe find me at a race or two? 🤭
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gisèlerosebooks oh and to my incredible, amazing, handsome boyfriend, thank you so much for always proofreading my formula 1 terminology and understanding. i promise i'll give you real credit one day.
username god adrien is so charles leclerc coded, he's all i could think about this entire book
lilymhe 🏎🫶🏻
username the fact i literally could've cared less about the lil zoom zoom cars before the dirty air series dropped and now im eager for the new season.... gisèle baby why u do this to me
username miss girl???? how are we supposed to find you at any races when we don't even know what you look like!!!
username jealous of gisèle's bf is!!! his gf is too talented for the world
username not throttled being the book to get me back into reading and now i'm blessed wth a second book??? mother is mothering real hard
username this is the type of book series i'd totally read at the track and imagine an f1 driver as my husband sry
username 10/10 book!!! dying!!!
yourusername has posted a story
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georgerussell63 wow we're so lucious and hot
yourusername luscious sweetie
georgerussell63 god i love having a hot, smart, book-writer gf. write a book about me and use that word
yourusername they're all already about you??? (handsome)
username you showed up to a race?????? shocking
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gisèlerosebooks has posted a story
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username omg!!!! where are you!!! dying to meet you omfg
username YOU WERE SERIOUS
georgerussell63 i saw u slip up and post this on the og account loser
georgerussell63 can i have my scooter back ya nerd
gisèlerosebooks no sorry </3 i own it now
georgerussell63 no creds in the books and now my scooter stolen???? you hate the british
gisèlerosebooks my pseudonym is an ODE to you PAL
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georgerussell63
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georgerussell63 a shame that this weekend didn't go the way we all wanted it to go, i know for a fact we'll be coming out on top soon! i also know yourusername or as most of you seem to prefer (for no valid reason at all) gisèlerosebooks is pretty deep in finishing book 3 and apparently this weekend was super influential??? go me (give me book creds)
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yourusername george!!! lmao!!!
yourusername a heads up next time??? maybe?!?
username 'for no valid reason at all' so SASSY oh boy
username everyone on twitter the other day calling yourusername a freeloader is soooo not doing well rn
lilymhe the secret's out!!!! (shocked, baffled, wild, can i get my books signed now)
username (G)isèle (R)ose... (G)eorge (R)ussell... dare i say... deliberately done
yourusername 🤭
username amazing race this weekend!!! can't wait to see you on top
username no one talking about book 3 almost being done??? or the fact george proofreads all her writing??? so cute
charles_leclerc so collided... is not about me?
georgerussell63 get lost mate
yourusername has posted a story
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georgerussell63 you think im a gentleman??? love you
yourusername the BIGGEST gentleman, i love you
username god this is so cute
georgerussell63
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georgerussell63 that's my little freeloading, best-selling author and future wife!
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username someone come get this chronically online man rn!!
yourusername can i be your freeloader forever??? spending my own money sucks
georgerussell63 my money's your money always my little freeloader
alex_albon emphasis on the best-selling author and future wife part
georgerussell63 you're right mate
username re-reading dirty air and knowing fully the entire book series is about george makes me so happy omg
username proud to admit i loved yourusername before AND after she was revealed as everyone's fav author (and it's not just a hobby losers)
username george doesn't get book creds until he wins a race again :)
yourusername i love this stipulation!!! georgerussell63 thoughts?
georgerussell63 you hate the british.
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i had SO much fun writing this!!! i picked george after going down a george rabbit hole again (of course), so i hope you all love it!! thanks for all the love always.
i'm not necessarily taking requests right now, but if you have suggestions please feel free to send them my way.
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awearywritersworld · 4 months
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there can be no covenants between men and lions
ryomen sukuna x reader summary: sukuna would rather contemplate your murder than come to terms with his feelings for you, but you call him out on his bullshit. w/c: 3k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. aged up!yuuji. heavy kissing. features yuuji x reader and he is, of course, best boy. cursing. sukuna decides he wants to kill you (so obviously there are mentions of murder and such) but cant even stand the sight of you upset, what a goof. i'd once again like to think sukuna's not too ooc in this but im still more than likely delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i was so touched by all of the love that part one received, i wanted to try my hand at part two. i hope i've done it justice! just as part one references homer's the odyssey, this references homer's the illiad because sukuna is very hot and well read. achilles, the protagonist of the novel, is discussed. i'm definitely open to writing a part three, because this one is much heavier on the angst and i miss soft sukuna from part one. series masterlist // masterlist
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you and yuuji rarely argue, but when you do, it's often over his aversion toward seriousness, even when a situation calls for it. though you really should have kept your mouth shut, because in this moment, you'd give anything to see his typical carefree expression.
his eyes are regarding you intently, taking in your flustered appearance with knitted brows.
"yuuji..." you trail off, wracking your brain for an explanation of your current predicament.
despite the fact he regained control of his body only moments ago, one of his hands is curled around the back of your neck, while the other is resting on your hip.
"baby, what happened?" he presses, the tone of his voice entirely unreadable.
"s-sukuna," is all you can manage to choke out.
his eyes darken immediately, his jaw tensing in a way that intimidates you. "he hurt you."
you really can't tell if it's a question or a statement, and your response comes a little too quickly. "no! that's not... no."
the next few seconds tick by in a slow sort of agony, heat creeping up your cheeks.
he notices for the first time that his head is eerily quiet. no snide remarks, no scathing commentary. just his own thoughts as he pieces together the situation.
his gaze drops to the angry, red marks littering your neck and you watch in helpless horror as understanding passes his features.
"oh."
the word hangs in the air as you await his reaction, fully anticipating disgust and betrayal. you're positive it's only a matter of time before he throws you out of the apartment and tells you to never come back.
what you don't expect, however, is the way his shoulders relax as the tension leaves his face.
he straightens himself, arms falling to his sides, but he doesn't put any distance between your bodies.
"how long have you...?" he's not quite sure how to phrase the question.
"a few months. this was the first time anything... um... happened. we usually just talk."
he tilts his head to the side, so you clarify. "after you've fallen asleep."
mulling over the information, he hums in response, looking thoughtful for a few more seconds. then, his usual demeanor is back and he grabs your hand. "wanna get dinner? i'm starving!"
he tugs you a few feet toward the door before you come to your senses. "woah, woah. wait a second, yu."
when he looks back at you expectantly, you find that his face holds not one hint of bitterness or judgement. "aren't you angry?"
you're amazed to find that he's the one looking sheepish.
"how could i be? it's not exactly easy to be with me when i have a thousand year old curse rattling around in my body, but you stay anyway," he expresses, making your heart soften. "i just want you to be safe, so i'll take whatever relationship the two of have now over him being a threat to you."
as your hands reach up to cradle his face and your eyes sparkle with adoration, you briefly wonder how you ever found such a sweet man. he places a quick kiss to your lips, the smile on his face easy going as ever. "sooooo, i'm thinking takoyaki or maybe udon—"
"we can get whatever you want," you glance at the spatters of blood across his chest left there from the mission, no doubt from sukuna's careless slaughter. "as long as you go wash up first."
"right!" he agrees quickly, bounding off to the bathroom.
you stand alone in the middle of your living room, left with the ghost of both yuuji and sukuna's lips against yours and a sense of bewildered excitement.
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back in his prison, however, sukuna is furious with himself. he should have let you die that day he kept you from being run over. better yet, he should have killed you with his own hands before the brat won back control of his body.
he is a terrible being that delights in carnage, a fact that's well known even centuries later. so why, when he could have done anything in the world, did he go to you? you even asked that same question before you—
he rejects the memory of you pressing your lips to his disdainfully.
your foolishness and your naivete are revolting. your softness and your pliancy are nauseating.
he shouldn't have been anywhere near you, if not to rip your obnoxious heart from your chest like he'd always planned. it was a situation he'd dreamt about and now it's slipped through his fingers, even though those same fingers had graced your fragile little neck.
you were nothing more than a clueless mouse in the jaws of a snake, and though the pains of hunger have been tearing at its stomach for years now, the serpent let itself starve.
sukuna retreats to his domain, fingers prodding at his temples irritably. he allows himself to wallow for a few hours, shutting out both you and the brat.
then, steeling his resolve, he begins to watch and wait like the predator he knows himself to be.
lulled into a false sense of security regarding your safety, it's clear that yuuji has let his guard down. just barely so, but enough that sukuna can see a few weaknesses in his chains. ironic seeing that, now more than ever, the king of curses wants you dead.
it goes without saying that he promptly ceases his nightly interactions with you. it's beneath him, wasting his time with a human. he knows that now.
but while he may not speak to you, he cannot refrain from stealing glances as the days stretch on. you're usually reading, completely oblivious to his watchful eye. he convinces himself it's simply to keep tabs on you, as he's deemed you his foremost enemy.
he's not sure how much time has passed when you begin calling out for him in hushed whispers after yuuji falls asleep, the hurt and confusion in your voice plain to him. it's irksome, and evidently, you're incapable of taking a hint.
his silence becomes more painful with each turn of the moon. you're a bit mortified to find that you genuinely miss him, so you just want answers. did he finally realize that you're nothing special, not worth bothering with?
eventually, growing restless, you all but beg him. "sukuna, please. talk to me. what happened? what'd i do wrong?" his chest tightens with what he believes is vexation. "you can't just make me like you and then disappear. you can't kiss me like that and then—"
"you insolent, maddening little creature!" his eye flies open just in time to see you gasp, your body jerking away from him. "shut up already! can't you see i want nothing to do with you? don't you tire of being pathetic?"
you don't dignify him with a response, swallowing thickly and turning away from him.
finally, he thinks, some fucking quiet. though if he's gotten what he wanted, why does his chest still ache?
he stares at the back of your form until the sun rises.
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sukuna is no simpleton. he can be patient when he is sure of a reward, but he's thrilled that the perfect opportunity arises just two days after your encounter.
yuuji is exhausted. gojo kept him out all last night, despite the grueling mission he had today, and when he all but stumbles through your apartment door, the moon is already high in the sky.
you never mention the change in your relationship with sukuna to yuuji. even though he was so understanding, you still feel a touch awkward discussing it further. and maybe in the back of your mind, you're holding out hope that it might go back to the way it was.
sukuna watches through yuuji's eyes when you greet him, your expression half concern and half 'i told you so'. nights out with gojo usually lead to this very situation.
he showers while you finish cooking dinner and once you both eat, he helps you clean up despite his exhaustion. after whispering his thanks and pressing a kiss to your temple, he retires to bed.
you promise you'll join him soon, but sukuna knows it probably isn't true. following his outburst, you've taken to staying in the living room until you're ready to sleep.
yuuji's out before his head hits the pillow and nearly two hours later, you're still not in bed. sukuna's eager, but waits until he's sure the brat's deep in his slumber before he tries to take over. it's relatively easy, and he pushes down yuuji's unconscious mind as far as he can before rising to his feet.
this is finally it. he stretches his limbs lazily, a dangerous smirk settling on his lips. the floor creaks with each step he takes, but he pays no mind to stealth. you're no match for him.
tonight, you'll be his first victim of many and the thought of making up for his past misjudgement has him giddy with excitement.
but the sight that greets him upon exiting the bedroom— you curled into yourself on the couch, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs— it stops him in his tracks.
he wants to move, more than anything, so what the fuck is wrong with him? is the brat taking over already?
and why is that uncomfortable sensation making it's home in the center of his chest once more?
when you notice his presence, your face shifts to him and reveals your wide, teary eyes. it's clear you're surprised by his appearance, but you quickly bury your face in your knees.
you just want him to leave you alone. you hate him for what he said, for what he did. he forced his way into your life, made you care about him, and then he just vanished. he's cruel and you feel like an idiot because you should have known that from the beginning. or maybe you did and he just made you forget.
"go away. i.. i don't want to see you."
he's disbelieving, for a brief moment, that here you are giving him orders while he stands in the doorway with the intention of taking your life.
he moves toward you, invading your space in a way that is meant to be intimidating, but when you look up at him, every emotion ranging from sadness to rejection to indignation is etched into your features. though the terror he hoped to inspire is noticeably absent.
"i said go away!" you swiftly stand up, your hands meeting squarely with his chest as you push him with every ounce of power you have.
you may as well have shoved a brick wall, as he doesn't move even a fraction of an inch. he seizes one of your wrists anyway.
"what is it you think you're doing, exactly?" he spits.
"let go of me!" you beat against his chest with the hand he left free until his fingers wrap around that wrist too.
"enough."
he's certain there isn't a being that has attacked him (if he can even call that an attack) and lived to speak of it, not once in an entire millennia.
so just end the insolent brat and be done with it, he urges himself.
but he can't and he doesn't understand why, so he just stares down at you.
"what the fuck do you want?" you mean for it to come out forcefully and full of spite, but your voice cracks before you can finish.
an excellent question, indeed. what does he want?
he doesn't answer you and it's so goddamn frustrating that you begin to cry again, rambling to fill the discomforting silence. "you've already told me i'm pitiful and annoying. it's clear you think my company is insufferable, that i'm undesirable—"
that ache in his chest is unbearable now. it claws at his ribcage and shreds the flesh of his heart. it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and rings shrilly in his ears. he can't even hear you anymore, but he can still see the tears sliding down your cheeks and the way you gasp between words.
the truth of the matter crashes down on him and the devastating weight of it is so crushing it squeezes the air from his lungs.
that feeling in his chest isn't annoyance or repugnance. its anguish— the kind that rattles his bones and leaves him sick with regret.
it's because you're in pain, and worse yet, he is the cause of it.
sukuna pushes you back against the wall before you can comprehend what's happening. his hands find either side of your face and you're alarmed to find that he looks... frightened.
"what are you doing to me?" he pleads for an explanation, because he sure as hell doesn't have one.
how can one little human hold such power over him? it's unnatural. it defies all logic and reason.
you stare at him, open mouthed. his face is so close that his breath fans across your skin and it makes you feel dizzy.
"what are you talking about?" you finally ask.
"you should be dead right now," he frets, despair seeping into every word. "it should be easy."
it dawns on you that you should probably feel afraid, but you just don't. his touch is firm, but careful. and there's no malice to be found behind his eyes. "you're not making any sense."
he thinks back on the time you've spent together, trying to figure out how the hell he ended up here— him at your mercy, rather than you at his. he remembers the first time he made you laugh and considers that it may have been the beginning of his unraveling. for the following two weeks, you both discussed homer at length as you made your way through his poetry.
"there can be no covenants between men and lions. wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other through and through." you blink at him, recognizing at once that he's quoting the illiad. his voice is low and unsteady in a way that suggests desperation. it makes you shiver. "therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall."
your eyes narrow as you begin to understand his his internal struggle, though you're unsure if he's attempting to reason with you or with himself.
"you quote achilles, and rightfully so i suppose, given your common qualities— exasperating pride and a penchant for meaningless violence." he looks relieved, like your seeming agreement eases his mind. it's short lived. "but you forget his passion."
his gaze shifts away from you, his hands withdrawing from your face.
"his passion?" he repeats as if it's the most incredulous thing he's ever heard.
"by the end of the story, is he not acquainted with regret, sympathy, and respect? he doesn't remain blind to the error of his ways forever."
"only a foolish human could make such fanciful deductions," he chides through gritted teeth, still refusing to meet your eye.
you actually laugh at him. "perhaps you shouldn't call upon achilles to make your point after all. at least he grows out of his utterly childish view of the world."
"how dare you?" he demands, his features growing wild as one hand finds your throat (his touch not nearly harsh enough to cause you any discomfort), the other colliding with the wall beside your head. his display doesn't fool you though. "you witless, wretched brat! you're nothing more than a blip in a universe you cannot even begin to understand. you sicken me."
you throw achilles' words in his face just as easily as he did to you. "hateful to me as the gates of hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another."
his gaze hardens, and for a split second, you think you may have been mistaken in your fearlessness, but then his fingers thread themselves through your hair and he pulls your lips to his.
it's rough and commanding, and he tells himself it's only to get you to shut up. to wipe that expression of smug pity from your face.
it's not because, despite the fact you know how awful he is, you're convinced there's something salvageable in him too. nor is it because you tyrannize his every passing thought. and it's certainly not because the feeling of you pressed against him brings him more satisfaction than ripping the hearts from the chests of a hundred men.
ultimately, his denial is overshadowed by his desire. your touch is nothing short of needy as you tug at his shirt, an attempt to bring him even closer, and god does he hope that means you feel just as desperate as he does. he deserves at least a little consolation.
as his hands roam every valley and curve of your body, he deems it unfair that a being whose very existence spells hell on earth should be so taken with such a devastatingly divine creature.
"i've wanted you so terribly," he mumbles against your mouth before he can stop himself.
"then fuck you for making us both wait," you breath out.
his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips in response and his lips shift to your neck. "watch that pretty little mouth of yours, brat."
he nips at the spot just below your ear hard enough that it makes you gasp, doubtless a punishment for your impudence. you recover quickly though, wasting no time with your flippant reply. "or what? you'll go back to plotting my murder?"
he pulls away from you abruptly, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "you truly have zero sense of self preservation, don't you?"
"guess so," you shrug, smiling at him bashfully. "can we watch a movie? i'll even let you pick."
you ask as if it's the most normal request in the world. as if he isn't a thousand year old curse that would be off turning the city to ash were he not here with you instead.
he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all. "fine."
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viinieroxide · 12 days
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—seven days. [ v ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: sorry it took a while compared to the other chapters. i finished up my lab reports in my surveying class. this is not edited nor is it beta read and i dont remember much on what happened during the 2018-2021 seasons so pardon me if there are inaccuracies. anyways, welcome to max's pov. u can say im stalling on the shitshow that will happen once max discovers that reader resigned. lemme know what you think.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1
part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5. part 6.1. part 6.2. part 6.3. part 7.
2018
“Who’s that?”
Daniel looks up, cheeks stuffed with the sandwich he was eating for lunch, “Who?”
Max cringes internally. His mother always told him and Victoria to not talk when his mouth was full, she called it bad manners, and now, he is understanding where she was coming from with those lectures. Nevertheless, he doesn't reprimand Daniel. Instead, he gestures to the girl standing a few meters away from their table in the Red Bull hospitality staff cafeteria, who was happily chatting with two Red Bull senior engineers whom Max recognizes to be Elijah Stuart and Richard Fox.
It is the first time Max has seen her. A new employee perhaps? Perhaps not. She lacks the company standard uniform.
Daniel trails his line of sight to where Max has pointed, “Which one? Richard?”
“No,” Max groans. Daniel blinks.
“Elijah?”
This is quickly becoming annoying.
“The girl, Daniel,” Max says, his exasperation bleeding through his words. “She’s not wearing a Red Bull polo.”
Daniel’s brows rise to his hairline, head snapping back to Max, “[Name]?”
Then, a shit-eating grin erupts on his lips. “Are you interested in her?”
“She’s not my type,” Max’s denial comes quickly. Is it even considered denial if it’s the truth? In his twenty almost twenty-one years being alive, Max never really put a lot of time into thinking about what his ideal type would look like. But he is sure that the woman of his dreams will look very far from the woman who was successful in catching his attention because you are wearing a black shirt in a sea of Red Bull polo shirts.
You with your eyes that forms into tiny crescent moons once your face breaks into a grin, you with your smile that shows too much gums and too much teeth, you with your hands that moves too much when you talk, and you with that too loud and too obnoxious laugh that comes even with the lamest of jokes. You’re like Daniel in a way. All happy sunshine vibes.
Max is watching you close, observing how you were interacting with Richard and Elijah. They're old men and no one should look this happy while talking to boring, old, white men, who worked more than four decades in the engineering industry so they only know how to speak boomer language and everything engineering. Surprisingly, Elijah and Richard seem to be having fun talking to you. A miracle on its own because they never even look that happy talking to Daniel Ricciardo and everybody in Red Bull Racing adores sunshine honey badger, Daniel Ricciardo.
“I didn't say anything.”
“You're thinking about it.”
“How would you know what I’m thinking?”
“Because you’re currently on a quest to erase my singledom. I can put two and two together.”
Daniel snorts, crossing his arms over his chest, “Maybe I just want to let you meet new friends.”
“I have enough friends.”
“You don't have friends that are not racers.”
Max presses his lips in a thin line.
“She’s my manager, by the way.” says Daniel, leaning back into his seat.
“What happened to Nick?”
“He’s on leave,” Daniel says. “His wife’s giving birth soon. She’s my temporary manager for a few months. Or I don't know, maybe the whole season.”
Max brows rise in pleasant surprise but says nothing.
“Now that I think about it, she’s around your age. How old are you again? Twenty-two?”
“Twenty,” Max corrects. His birthday is still months away from pre-season. On the end of September.
“Ah, she's older than you. Oh wait, here she comes. Hey, [Name]! Here!”
Max flinches and his heart begins ramming against his ribs erratically that he thinks he’ll undergo cardiac arrest in a matter of seconds. He does a double take—why am I even panicking?—then forces himself to calm down and straightens up in his seat. His shoulders and neck are still considerably stiff and his palms are slowly becoming sweaty. He swallows an invisible stone in his throat.
“¡Hola mi amiga, [Name]!” Daniel greets and his Spanish accent sounds off that it makes [Name], who stopped right in front of their table, giggle and when Max looks up at her through his lashes, it almost feels like the world is turning too rapidly on its axis and it’s making Max dizzy. Daniel and her do a friendly handshake—when did they reach this level of friendship?
“Hola, Daniel,” she greets, smiling. Your accent reminds Max of Carlos, but unlike Carlos, who possesses a very distinct Spanish accent, yours sounded subtler than his and it's mixed with the charming rhythm of words that reminds Max of sunsets in the south. You pronounce Daniel’s name like it has two syllables instead of three. Dan-yel instead of Dan-i-el. Suddenly, Max is curious as to how his name will sound if it originates from her mouth, how the syllables will roll off her tongue. Max will still sound like Max. Nobody will mispronounce that name. But Emilian and Verstappen? How will you say it?
“Hi Max.”
The Max sounds plain even though you’re smiling when you greet him. She didn't say Max the same way she said Daniel, whose name was uttered with a certain fondness.
“Hello,” Max’s chin dips slightly into a nod.
“Eat with us,” Daniel invites and he is already dragging a chair from a nearby table to their table before Max can fully register what he’s doing.
“You sure?” you ask, brows raising slightly at Daniel’s abrupt invitation.
Daniel waves his hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, Max wouldn't mind. Would you, Max?”
Suddenly, two pairs of eyes are on him and his throat feels dry. He cannot speak. No words leave his mouth. Empty brain, zero thoughts. In the end, he nods and you join the two for lunch.
Max frequently sees you following Daniel in the paddock. You remind him of a dog. No, even dogs do not follow their owners this much. Or do they? Max wouldn't know. He is a cat person anyway.
Max’s main point is this: not even the other racers’ managers follow them around this much. Not even Max’s manager follows him this much. (No one tell Max that this was due to the fact that he scares his own manager. Imagine a middle-aged man scared of a Dutch racer half his age with anger issues.) But you follow Daniel around like he is the sun and you are planet Earth and you need to be constantly revolving around him to achieve universal balance. And for some reason, your actions cause something odd to stir up in Max. He is annoyed. Of what? Maybe because you are so good to Daniel? Maybe he wants someone to be like that for him, too? His manager is not as proactive as you. Yeah, maybe that’s it.
And if you are not with Daniel, which is a rare occurrence, you’re hovering around the Red Bull mechanics. You even go as far as bringing them coffee in the mornings and that annoys Max even more. Daniel, he can understand if you brought him coffee, but the others? No. You don't even bring Christian Horner coffee. Why only them?
Whatever.
You are such a suck up. Max hates suck ups.
Baku 2018 was a bad race, a total nightmare for everyone in the team. The moment Max got out of that car, he was burning. Figuratively, at least. The engine of the RB14 is the one burning, in a literal sense. Horner is red in the face when he sees Max and Daniel, and he yells at them to cool down before they do the formal stuff of apologizing and dealing with the FIA and all the formalities that Max rather thinks are bullshit.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice raising, when he sees you approaching. “Aren't you supposed to be with Daniel?”
“Water?” you offer the water bottle to him and Max knows full well it’s supposed to be for Daniel. Max saw you offering it to Daniel earlier when the two of them stepped into the Red Bull garage after retiring from the race but the older man has declined your offer before stomping off somewhere else to cool down.
“No.”
He is not going to take the scraps of someone else, even though he is thirsty as hell.
You nod, shrugging your shoulders and saying, “Okay.”
You crouch on the floor and put the water bottle in front of him with a neatly folded face towel balancing on top of it. Then, you rise and walk away, leaving Max to glare at your back as you fade away from his view. Once you disappeared from his line of sight, he drags his gaze back to the water bottle and towel.
He drinks the water and then uses the towel to wipe his sweat. At that moment, Max decides that he will never allow himself to be beaten by Daniel ever again.
Max remembers the anger he feels when he discovers the news of Daniel leaving Red Bull.
“Was this because of Baku?!”
Daniel tries to explain his situation as calmly as he can but Max is all fire and flames and fury. He is only hearing Daniel’s words, not listening to them because all that he registers are the words “leaving” and “Renault” and “goodbye” and the rest are all just a bunch of ringing noise. Max knows where Daniel is coming from because he isn't dumb nor naive and he is aware that he is quickly becoming the team favorite, but did Daniel really need to leave?
Daniel’s leaving, Daniel’s leaving, Daniel’s leaving. He’ll have no friends left on the team.
Max’s fear of being left behind is often masqueraded as anger. The thing about Max is that his pain always turns to anger and his anger turns into violence.
He barely registers what he has done to Daniel until he sees his teammate—former teammate—on the floor, eyes wide and clutching his cheek. Max’s fist trembles. They are both horrified at what Max has done.
“Daniel, I—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?!” Daniel scrambles to a stand and lunges at Max. Max fears he’s going to get punched, too, and maybe he deserves it because he is the one who has thrown his fist first, but [Name] appears, quick as lightning, and rushes in between Daniel and Max.
“Daniel, calm down.”
Max is surprised you can hold Daniel down on your own. Daniel was a racer, had been since 2011, so he possessed the physical strength of a veteran racer and you, well, you're not. You’re shorter than them both, too.
Daniel is turning red in the face and fury paints his features. Max wants to fight, answer Daniel’s anger with his own. Fire to fire. Let them both burn until they achieve ruination.
“Nick!” you cry and at the call of his name, Nick appears quickly. “Hold Daniel!”
Your hands clutch Max’s nape and forearm and you quickly drag him away from the furious Daniel, leaving Nick to hold Daniel off and calm him down.
His ears are still ringing. Even after he's dragged away from the chaos. Even after he's brought into an empty room. Even after he sits down on a plush chair, face scarily blank while his mind runs for miles.
The ringing sound disappears when you tap his shoulder and asks, “You okay, big boy?”
His brain becomes a blank slate.
Max nods hesitantly, “Yeah.”
His knuckles are still tingling. He can still feel the remnants of the violence of his fist, can still feel the sting when his knuckles met Daniel’s cheek.
“Injuries?”
Why do you only speak words instead of full sentences?
You scan Max’s face for injuries and Max holds his breath when you lean your face closer to see clearly.
“No—No injuries.”
Your shoulders sag in relief, “Good. Thank fuck. Horner wouldn't be happy if golden boy got clocked.”
You pull yourself away and Max feels like he can breathe again. Then, you pivot on your heels.
“I’ll get you water.”
“No!”
You flinch and then turn to him slowly, your eyes growing wide and mouth falling slightly open. Max mirrors your surprise. You blink at him. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, your forehead creases and you close your mouth.
“No need to yell at me,” you mumble but Max hears it loud and clear and now, his anger is spiking up again.
“Fine, go!”
You raise a brow at him, giving him a long look. A sigh escapes your lips. You leaned against the door, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Why aren't you leaving?”
“You don't want me to,” you say in a know-it-all tone.
“I told you to go!”
“What you want and what you say are two different things. Don't worry, I’ll stay for as long as you need.”
Max doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he sits there in the silence with his thoughts and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He’s sure you noticed that he’s trying not to cry, not with you standing in front of him. Max always makes weird faces when he forces himself not to cry.
But then you turn your back on him, not to leave, but to give him the privacy he needs.
His tears fall silently.
The 2018 WDC was Lewis Hamilton, who garnered 408 points by the end of the year. Max finishes in fourth, only after the Ferrari drivers, Sebastian Vettel and Kimi Raikkonen. The world thinks it is not a bad result. Max is still young and he’s battling three WDCs for points. But Max thinks otherwise. Winning is number one. The rest is just losing. The only thing he knows is he's not good enough. Jos is thinking of the same thing, too. He knows it.
Everytime someone congratulates him, Max has to bite his tongue and fake a smile. He can only feel anger, for finishing up fourth. It's like people are constantly reminding him of what he failed to become—a champion.
Red Bull throws an after party at the hotel bar, like they do at every Grand Prix, but Max chose not to go so he can drown in his own bitterness in the privacy of his hotel room.
A series of knocks on the door disturbs his ongoing rampage. He is sure it is his manager who’s behind the door. Archie possesses a horrible habit of appearing when he is not needed and not appearing when he is.
“What?!”
“Open the door, sour loser.”
That's not Archie.
Max’s jaw tenses. He marches towards the door and aggressively throws it open. It is you who stands behind it, an unimpressed expression printed on your face. Why is Daniel’s manager here?
“Who are you calling a loser?”
You sigh, peering your head in to look at his hotel room. You wince.
“Horner is not gonna be happy with how you trashed everything,” you begin. Max may or may not have thrown things across the room, punched a table and the wall, and accidentally broke a hotel-owned wall decoration. “Did you punch the wall?”
He did. But he’s not going to tell you that. Max hopes you don’t notice the peeling skin on his knuckles—red and angry and bloody.
“Can you leave?” he asks through gritted teeth. He hears you sigh. You do that a lot when you’re around him. Why?
You rummage through your tote bag—cream-colored with peach prints, the same one you wear all year round—and pull out a cold can of beer and a face towel.
“Lemme see.”
You reach for Max’s hand, which causes him to jerk back, his hand going behind him. You pause.
“I told you to leave.”
“Okay,” you shrug. You grab his wrist before he could dodge and you thrust the cold canned beer and face towel into his hand.
“Put this on your knuckles,” your tone leaves no room for further arguments. “Danny’s worried ‘bout you.”
“If he’s so worried about me, he shouldn't be leaving me,” Max snaps.
“Have you tried listening to his reasons?”
“Of course, I did!” Max is offended that you even feel the need to ask him that.
You purse your lips, “Maybe you did listen, just never tried to understand. I’d do the same thing, too, if I was Danny. No need to stay in a place where we’re no longer wanted.”
Max opens his mouth to bark back. How dare you utter such nonsense? You only stayed here for a year! ? You will never understand the relationship between Daniel and Max. You will never know Daniel the same way Max knows him.
“He isn't going to win anywhere else. We are going to get a new engine and the car will be better than this year. We’ll be better than Ferrari or Mercedes. We’ll be champions.”
I’ll be a champion, but Max leaves it unsaid.
“I know, heard it from the mechanics,” you shrug. “Maybe Danny won't win in another machinery. Maybe he will. Who knows? But if the team wanted Danny then that’s better. A team that wants and prioritizes Danny will treat him better than any team could. And right now, that's what he needs, a good team that supports him well.”
“Red Bull prioritizes him, too.”
“You're lyin’ to yourself, you know it. You of all people should know how shitty it feels to be number two and Danny is number two right now.”
Silence.
Number two. Cursed number two.
“Are you gonna follow Daniel, too?”
Max will not be surprised if you do.
You shrug.
“Let's wait and see.”
Then, you turn around and walk away, the soft click of your beige flats echoing in the hotel hallway until it fades into silence, while Max stands there at the open door, a cold canned beer and a face towel in his hand.
He uses the face towel to wipe the blood on his knuckle and uses the cold canned beer to help soothe the pain of forming bruises. Max wishes you brought something to ease the pain in his heart, too.
2019
The 2019 pre-season begins with Christian Horner saying that Archie, Max’s incompetent manager last year, has submitted a resignation letter. That makes Max Verstappen officially manager-less this year.
“For this season, since Daniel is no longer with us—” The corner of Max’s lips curve downwards. “[Name] does not have anyone to manage anymore. I was thinking of moving her to the engineering team but she was too efficient at managing Daniel last year. Would you mind if she becomes your manager? I assume you're both friends?”
Friends is not the appropriate term to describe what they are. Sure, they talked because Daniel talked with Max frequently and wherever Daniel was, [Name] is closely behind. Daniel also has this habit of dragging everyone into the conversation so no one will be left out. They also engaged in banter a few times, when Daniel’s not around and Max and her do not bother tolerating each other for the sake of the Australian racer.
For the most part, when Daniel is present, [Name] become the nicest person to ever grace the room, even Mother Teresa is put to shame, but when Daniel’s gone, [Name]’s saintess act disappears and enters an asshole who'll argue with Max and annoy him to oblivion. She absolutely vexes him.
Also, she's a terrible suck up. Max hates suck ups.
“She’ll be good for you,” Horner adds.
“Do you believe so?”
“I know she can handle you.”
Max raises a single questioning brow, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Nevertheless, Max has no choice. Horner believes she’ll be good for him and Max prefers having her as a manager than having none at all. God forbid he’ll be stuck manager-less. He can barely organize anything to save his life.
Even though they're not perfectly civil with each other, Max cannot deny the fact that [Name] is a good manager. It is like she possesses the uncanny ability of knowing everything Max needs without having him to voice it out and you do it without Max having to ask you. Which works greatly for Max. He really isn't the best at asking what he needs and people cannot mindread so he just sucks everything up until a simple thing gets blown out of proportion and he ends up blaming someone else for a problem that should have been solved had he voiced it out in the first place.
“PR sent me this,” you walk into the room early in the morning and Max groans because he’s still dealing with the hangover from last night so he cannot deal with your annoyingness right now. Despite hearing his dilemma, you put the iPad on the table and Max sees a picture of him drunk as fuck in a bar somewhere in Barcelona. He winces, looking away and not bothering to read the caption.
“They want you to clear shit up.”
“What's there to be cleared about?”
“People think we're datin’, darlin’. That's what you need to clear up.”
Max’s eyes go comically wide. Him and [Name]....dating? A blush graces Max’s cheeks.
You swipe down and show Max a video. The clip shows you walking out of the bar, warding off people with a passed out Max on your shoulder.
There are two things that immediately entered Max’s head at that moment:
Wow. You're really strong.
What the fuck? When did this happen?
“I’ll get you an Advil and soup. In the meantime,” you open a word document on your iPad. “You read this. Prepared a script ‘cuz you can’t improvise shit. We’ll film a press release vid when I come back, aight?”
You are gone before Max can even nod his head.
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thevirgincherry · 2 months
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SCHADENFREUDE !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. p in v, kidnapper/victim relationship, stockholm syndrome, he puts u in the trunk of his car :3, sorta painal, squirting, slapping/hitting a lot.. of it, not non-con or dub-con but he keeps calling it that idk, painful sex, suicide mention cuz it’s leonnnn, sadism
note. haiii a follow up to rotten luck title has nothing to do w the fic i think :3 his character changes like every 5 mins im sorry .. readers character changed a lot too omg just blame it on stockholm! umm sorry for any mistakes please ignore them :3 rbs and feedback so appreciated :3
rotten luck
tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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“What’re you doing?” With a foot in the door, Leon spots you hunched over the mantlepiece.
You jump like you do when he makes a noise over thirty decibels. Luckily, you’re housebroken now, just about, so there’s no piss. Or tears. He has no desire to deal with tears. Or piss or any fluid for that matter. Leon has bad days, and then he has worse days, then there are awful days– It’s only a bad day, but that doesn’t mean he wants to spend his time forcing your head into a puddle of your own piss. Fundamentally, piss is not his concern, he’s potty-trained and has been for a good thirty-four years. He’d like to think a good forty-three years, but he was a criminal bedwetter up until the ripe age of twelve. Foster system does that to you. You make the piss Leon’s concern when you do it on his floor–
“What’re you doing?” Leon asks once more when he wrenches himself away from his piss tangent. He decides to let you off for not answering the first time ‘cause he’s generous like that. Quietly, as everything you do is scarce and ghostlike, you point at the printed photos on his mantle with great interest. There’s three because Leon only really gives a shit about three people. They shouldn’t be out in the open like that. Leon doesn’t remember leaving them out, so he’d like to blame you, but maybe this is a sign of early-onset dementia.
“Who’s she?” You nod to Ashley first, pressed to his side so tightly, so lovingly, so sure that he loves her bombardment. Her affection, whatever it is that she insists it is. He thinks back to tearing her from the clutches of emaciated beings and wonders how he can stand here so normally. As if nothing ever happened. Ashley’s name is the one in the back of his throat, shattered and bloody like glass in a domestic dispute. Then again, he is face to face with his kidnapping victim and all. So it’s not very normal when he looks at the bigger picture. Far from normal, abnormal at the very least. Fucking deranged might be the right term.
“My ex,” Leon lies to see the look of disdain that crosses your face, the unpleasant curl of your lips that irons out when he pets your head. Whether it be for him or Ashley, he wouldn’t like to know. “Joking, baby, I saved her,” Leon settles on saved because there is no other way to explain it, and because he would love for you to know that they’re not his other kidnapping victims and that you’re his one and only kidnappee and he might be impulsive, but he’s not stupid enough to take pictures of and with kidnapped girls. Well, Ashley was a kidnapped girl, not his kidnapped girl, however.
Leon is very feminist, rescuing slender-ankled maidens is his speciality, you’re just an outlier. “I saved her,” he says when you nod at Manuela next, and then for Sherry, he pauses, “I saved her.” Sherry’s face goads him into cowardice, blowing his brains out is difficult when she’s sitting on his shoulder at all times like a Vatican cherub, covalently bonded to his heart or his soul. Whichever matters after you die. “You want a picture too, baby? Autograph?” He kisses your kidnapped little fingers with the guilt of a man who has been pointlessly guilty all his life - now literally guilty by CJS standards for the four months you’ve been captive.
You smile at him, and consequently his drops. “I’m good,” you say, smiling your real smile. It upsets him. “I’ve got the real thing.” When you talk too much he remembers that you’re not a toy or a plaything or anything of the sort. That you’re a real girl.
Sometimes Leon has these moments of startling clarity. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause mommy didn’t love you enough, but daddy hit you hard enough to knock the functioning parts of your brain out of place. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause you got touched back in boot camp, ‘cause you’ve seen a couple hundred people die.
At this point, he simply can’t move on, but he can give up. Every night the gun under his pillow digs into the hollows of his skull. It’s just that Leon can’t leave you, his lucky little girl, he feels responsible for the state you’re in. Stockholm and all. That wasn’t his intention, he’d rather you be dead out of sheer terror, your frail little heart would give out mid Leon’s fucked up chimaera that is part nasty, hot sex and part brutal beating and the most he would have to do is bury your bones in his backyard.
Pretend you never existed. Your name fades into obscurity like every other name does. Your face is just another face. And no one truly cares in the end. America’s love is limited, its affections will go elsewhere, to a prettier kidnapped girl in California or a younger one in Maine. The police will pass you off as a runaway soon enough, and no one would ever have to mourn a bodiless casket. What a mess. Leon didn’t mean to be so charming, didn’t mean to make you fall for him, he didn’t know girls these days were so into getting raped on the daily. Now he’s facing the repercussions of his sex appeal. God forbid he exists in sexy peace.
You gotta make everything his problem, don’t you? Lucky little thing. Leon wonders if you’ve ever had to do anything for yourself. Wonders, ponders, thinks, but he won’t pry. ‘Cause it makes him feel, like, really fucking sucky. That he plucked you out of your perfect little life ‘cause his life is the shittiest little life in this piece of shit world.
He struggles to even utter your name– Your name, god, he bets it was picked out so delicately, so carefully– And that pisses Leon off ‘cause his dad named Leon after his favourite hooker, remove the A from Leona and there you have it! Italian enough for his ma too, hit a perfect sweet spot. Now he’s upset, the perennial guilt has wilted and he’s just fucking exasperated by you. By your luck. By your shamelessness. What twisted little bitch sits there and gloats about having the real thing in reference to her kidnapper. In actuality, it’s Leon that has the real thing.
Leon knocks you down like you’re made of styrofoam. That little yelp never gets old. You see, he’s been struck by this awful migraine and he wants you to feel the same. You should ache like he does, but you don’t ‘cause you’re young and healthy and he makes you go to bed at an appropriate time ‘cause it’s his duty as your kidnapper to make sure you don’t die out of neglect - death via beating is fine and understandable.
You sit at his feet so sweetly, a stray dog that’s wandered into the shrine of a lonely god, curling up at the foot of a wooden statuette to seek some form of solace. Unfortunately for you, Leon is no god, just a normal man with a heart and a soul and a dick that thinks for itself. He does what any man with a dumb dick would do - grabs you by the ankle and lugs you towards the bedroom like a deer carcass. It’s slightly comical, and he knows that ‘cause he hears you giggle a little.
“Rape is nothin’ to laugh about, sweetheart,” Leon says ‘cause that’s the plan, he drops you down on the bed with a thunk. Is it even rape when the other party, a very much kidnapped party, is enjoying it? Truly, you suck the joy out of his life.
“Sorry, Leon,” you go slack and stupid the second he gropes your tit, he’s not one for foreplay, it bores him most days. He’ll eat your pussy ‘cause he likes the taste, but he’s old and his cock is on its last legs and the moment his shit jumps to life it’s best to get it in ASAP.
“It’s okay, baby,” Leon lifts the hem of your shirt, “I know you’re really fuckin’ stupid, so don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah?” God, he’s way too nice. He pulls the shirt over your head and you’re left bare.
“Thank you, Leon,” You’re well-mannered, he’ll give you that, polite little thing, it's terribly endearing, has the walls of his gristly heart caving in.
“You’re very welcome, baby,” he hums, unzipping his jeans to get his dick out before it ultimately droops. Your cunt is sopping, takes to his fingers easily, he curls them upwards to hear those slick clicks. “Spread ‘em.” Leon taps your thigh, and you bend your knees outwards, a foot flat on the bed. It’s nice that you’re wet for him and all, does wonders for his ego, but loose holes are no fun.
“Not there,” you’re so cute when you whine, would look so cute stuffed in the trunk of his car, god. He’d even put a pillow between your thighs to give that cunt some friction. Keep you entertained while he drives aimlessly.
“Baby, you should know better,” Leon chides, spreads your ass and eyes up your tighter hole. “Didn’t ask you, did I?”
“Nuh-uh, Leon.” Comes your automated response.
“What did I tell you?”
“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you relay the words like you’re reading from a rulebook.
Creepy. Makes him shudder. Maybe Leon did Stockholm you purposefully, he didn’t expect you to respond so well, he was just saying shit. Like, shit that comes out of his mouth when he’s horny, and your sick little brain took his word as law. So, like, that’s your fault and you’re making it his problem. ‘Cause everyone loves to make everything Leon’s problem.
“God, you’re such a clever girl, baby,” he coos because he is so kind and gracious, giving out praise left and right. The tip of Leon’s cock is sticky, drags it through the seam of your cunt to part your folds, kisses your clit with the fat head. There’s a slight gape to your puckered hole when he grabs your ass cheek to open you up. Leon’s forced his way in countless times before, it’s no different this time. With a cock lubed by precum and your drippy cunt, he pushes into your asshole mercilessly.
“That’s a cute face, sweetheart, you gonna do that for me again?” Leon asks, taking a handful of tit as he admires the pain washing over your face— The divot between your brows that he smooths over with his thumb, a quivering bottom lip, eyes screwed shut ‘cause you’re trying to take his fat cock like a good girl should. You make it so easy to hurt you.
“Leon,” you whimper when he bottoms out. His cock kicks inside you, he pulls out to be mean, carves out space and your hole flutters ‘cause it’s so empty— Leon forces his way back in, till the ring of muscle swallows up the base of his cock, and his balls smack wetly against the fat of your ass. Two fingers find their way into your sloppy pussy once more, he feels the ridges of his cock through the spongy, thin walls of your cunt, and you’re liking it too much, fucking him back far too enthusiastically when his thumb presses down on your pulsing clit.
“You’re gonna cum like this, sweetheart,” Leon tells you matter-of-factly, removes his fingers with a pop! and wipes the milky cream dribbling down his wrist on your tummy. “Can you do that for me?”
“No, Leon, I can’t,” you shake your head, trembling fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him back to your puffy clit.
“Yes you can, baby, you’re gonna do it for me aren’t you?” He tuts, breaking free from your sorry excuse of a grip to lay a firm smack on your jaw. It sends your head to the right, hears your neck crack, he’s sure. “We don’t use words like ‘no’ do we?”
“No…”
Aw, that was a trick question— He gives you another smack to force your head to the left. A little brain damage goes a long way. Keeps you obedient. When you get over the dizziness and face him head-on, you try to blink away the tears to no avail, they roll down your cheeks in pearlescent blobs. Clicker training is unneeded when you have a firm hand. It’s worked so well, any mention of your life outside of the time spent in his home and he’s punching your lights out, now you talk to Leon about Leon, and you think of Leon, and you fuck Leon and you love him– Jesus, okay, he did Stockholm you real fucking bad. No wonder you’re so weird.
Leon rabbits into you, short and shallow thrusts ‘cause it’s harder for you to breathe that way with his cock constantly pushing and jabbing and— Fuck, he’s practically reshaping your insides at such a brutal pace.
“I knew you could do it,” Leon snickers, presses hard on your abdomen to help you cum— And you’re so cute when you do, writhing and lifting your hips up and just looking a little stupid. There’s a stuttered breath, then you’re squirting in sharp bursts, from his cock in your ass alone. “There we go— You did it, baby, did so well—“ He is so fucking sweet to you, talking you through your high and shit. “You love getting your ass fucked don’t you?”
When you don’t respond, too busy trying to recover from an orgasm that’s left you boneless, Leon knocks some sense into you. “I do,” you gasp, teeth clattering like they always do when he hits you. “I do, Leon, I do, I love it— Love you.”
Holy shit. He hates it. That’s what drives him over the edge, that’s what makes him fuck his load into your ass till it’s dripping back down his shaft, that’s what gets his legs all shaky? It sickens him.
“Do you love me, Leon? I love you so much, Leon,” you mumble to him feverishly when he dips low to rest his forehead on yours, a hand on your cheek.
“You’re growing on me, baby,” Leon says, kissing the spot on your cheek he hit less than a minute ago. “Go clean yourself up.” He checks his watch while you limp off to the en-suite. “I’m headin’ out soon.”
“What?” You poke your head past the door frame, genuinely distraught at this revelation. “But you just got home, Leon, I was so bored— Can I come with you?”
“Are you dumb, baby?” Leon blinks at you, and he knows the answer is yes already.
“I’ll just miss you, like, lots ‘n lots.” You’re padding towards him, seating yourself on his lap. He puts his hands on your hips to draw you in, you breathe in his scent. It can’t be pleasant, but you get something out of it. “I want to come with you, please. I won’t run away, Leon, I like it with you.”
“I know you won’t run away,” he hums, squeezing your hips. “What would you do without me? You’d just miss me, baby.”
“And I’m gonna miss you when you go now, Leon.” Your arms loop around his neck. This is fucking disgusting. You’re not his girlfriend, but his literal kidnapping victim and he’s all loved up, letting you stroke his hair and kiss his neck— Fuck, he hates it, hates that he likes you so damn much.
It’s not like he could get away with it. Claire’s got, like, a database in her head for all the fucking women in the world. One look at your face and she’ll know. And how the fuck are you meant to play that off? Bringing a missing girl as your date for the night.
“You can come with me,” he agrees, just not in the girlfriend way, but in the appropriate kidnapped girl way. With a gag in your mouth and your hands behind your back, tucked into his trunk like a cute, fleshy suitcase.
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Zip ties are best, rope comes second, and Leon’s tie is probably not on the list of best kidnapping tools. He just wasn’t prepared to take you with him. He’s fairly new to the whole kidnapper thing, it’s quite exhausting.
The sun sets early these days, and it’s not like Leon lives in a crowded area. Only sign of life on the street is him. And you. Panties stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag, wrists tied together with the tie Hunnigan got him for Christmas. You could spit the panties out at any minute, but you don’t. You could break free from the shitty knot he’s tied, but you don’t. Leon must be good at this manipulation thing ‘cause you’re so damn docile, letting him lay you down like a corpse, move you around like one.
“All good?” Leon asks, tilts his head to the side as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. Not all good. You’re terrified. He can tell. You still nod though. “Good.” He kisses your head, then shuts you in.
Leon is already a bit of a nervous driver. His windows are blacked out at least. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like there’s drugs planted in his glove compartment, or he’s got blood money on the backseat, or a cute girl in the trunk— Which he does, but he doesn’t usually have a cute girl tied up in the trunk. He usually does get a ticket or two though, able to charm his way out of it, flash his ID.
There isn't a single noise from you, not even a thump, and it worries him. Leon considers pulling over, but he drives on white-knuckled and shaky. Hopes you haven’t rolled out without him noticing. Been flattened by a truck. Jesus Christ, he thought something about this would be gratifying, but his nerves have spiked and unlocked a new level of anxiety. He should hand himself in right now– Obviously, he doesn’t do that, and he parks up outside Claire’s apartment instead, and he is going to check on you, he is, he was–
“Oh, hey you!” Sherry takes him by surprise, her hand is small in his, but it’s calloused. Doesn’t feel like it did when he held it the first time. Even smaller and bloodied. When she smiles at him, soft wrinkles form. “You’re on time,” she comments, and he wants to die because there is a girl in his trunk.
“Right on, kiddo!” He says to Sherry who is thirty-seven and married. Leon would like to think he does well in high-pressure situations, he does do well in high-pressure situations. That’s a fact. He’s great in end-of-the-world-type scenarios, great at saving America from impending doom, he could do it with his eyes closed– Facing the closest thing you have to family not as yourself, but as a creepy, old rapist is insanely difficult and he would prefer to never do it again. However, he is exactly that, plus a kidnapper, so Leon will continue to do it for the rest of his days.
“Are you okay, Leon?” The corners of her lips are downturned– She knows, oh god, she knows, and she’s never going to look at you the same, and she’ll hate you for the rest of her life– “You’re not sick, are you? I heard there was a bug going around, Jake got sick today that’s why he couldn’t come.” Fuck Jake. Leon dislikes him. Her hair is longer, long enough to fall over her shoulders. He’d tell her to cut it, in their line of work it’s a risk, but she looks how she used to look, and Leon can’t say anything to her.
“No, I’m just, I’m cold, it’s cold, right? It’s cold out here, let’s go inside– Claire’s waiting,” he says very smoothly, totally without a single fumble.
“What is up with you?” Claire scans his guilty face when she opens the door, scans it like a robot, not like an observant human. She steps aside to let Sherry in, kissing the shorter girl’s cheek, and then she blocks Leon from entering. “My pipes are bust, Leon.”
“Okay? Can’t help you with that, babe.” Leon is not a fucking plumber. Doesn’t look like one in the slightest. He’s handsome like a washed-up actor, he knows that much is true, does not fit the bill for a plumber.
“You look like you need to shit really bad.”
“God, I don’t, I’m just fuckin’ cold.” Leon shows her his shaky hands as proof. It’s not proof ‘cause these are kidnapper shakes.
Claire stares at him. Ineffable. Unflappable. She scares the shit out of him, might really end up on her busted toilet if she scrutinises him to this degree all night. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good, I’m great– I’m cold, I’m fine,” he says normally because he is a normal man with a heart and soul and dick and balls and credit. All the shit normal guys have. And a girl in the trunk, he’s got that too. The cast-iron doubt in Claire’s eyes has Leon on edge for the rest of the night. It never dissipates. Or she’s just looked that way her whole life and Leon’s overthinking it.
“Nah, Leon hates those, don’t you?” Sherry nudges his shoulder.
“Huh?” Leon says intelligently, he’s painfully aware of his blundering efforts at socialising. Painfully aware of you. In his trunk. Cold, scared, and wet ‘cause you’re fucked up. He hates a lot of things like assless chaps and seven-eleven beer and swans. He drinks seven-eleven beer anyway. Does not wear assless chaps though. And he’d prefer to keep it that way. Swans piss him off ‘cause they're beautiful and violent and beautiful things should be passive like you are. Beautiful things were put on this earth to be gawked at. Beautiful things belong tied up in his car.
“Parrots,” she smiles at him again and he’s hit by a wave of nausea.
“What about ‘em?”
“Me and Jake want to get a pet, I’ve always wanted a parrot, you promised to get me one when I was a kid,” Sherry says, it’s not even to guilt trip him, just factual, but Leon feels like the shittiest guy alive, he’s very good at feeling bad.
“I do hate them,” Leon confirms, “They talk too much.” Pets are pets. They roll over, show off their bellies, wag their tails, they shouldn't speak.
“That’s what I like about them!”
Leon gets a headache when you speak for even a minute, that’s why he couldn't deal with a parrot. Or any pet other than his lucky girl ‘cause at least she’s smart enough to know when to shut up.
“It’s not like they talk a lot.” Claire fills her wine glass for the nth time. “They speak when spoken too,” she says while blinking at Leon so directly he thinks she might’ve put cameras in his house to see if he’s being as feminist as he claims he is. “And you can teach them names, I think it’s cute.”
“We took care of a puppy last year, a friend’s one, but Jake doesn’t like dogs at all. Poor thing, she got car sick when we took her out, she was in the back on her own, and she must’ve been so scared-”
A dog in the back of a car all on her own. God, doesn’t that sound familiar? Did you get car sick? Should he have checked up on you? Fuck, you might’ve choked to death on your own car sickness by now. The clock ticks and Leon checks his watch about ten times within five minutes. He can’t leave first. He never leaves first– Oh, fuck, but what if you’re fucking dead? He prays you aren’t. He would appreciate it if you were alive.
“I don’t… I don’t feel great,” Leon says not convincingly when he stands up, then he bends to kiss Sherry on the head. “I love you, sweetheart, we’ll catch up next time, alright?” And he doesn’t give either of them a chance to respond properly. Collecting his keys from the table, his jacket, his gun.
Leon, don’t you want to finish– Leon, you’re leaving– Call me when you get back– I’ll miss you, Leon– Text me back– Should you be driving–
He would love to reassure Sherry, tell her that he’ll miss her so much he could die and that he promises to text Claire back on time, and that he’s perfectly capable when it comes to drunk driving. but he’s pretty sure he’s got a missing dead girl in his trunk. Leon wonders if they can see him clearly from Claire’s fifth-story window. They don’t care about what he’s doing, but the probability that they might be able to see what he’s doing, acting all shady, is scary. The street lights flicker, and when he opens the hatch, he’s bathed in the glow of your halo. Hail fucking Mary and Joseph and Jesus. You’re there, eyes frantic, and very alive, panties still stuffed in your mouth. Could’ve spat those out by now, but you’re a good girl.
“Fuck,” Leon sighs, he smiles like he loves you. “Hi, baby, did you have fun?” He hunches over to get a better look at you, you’re in the position he left you in, on your side, balled up, almost foetal. He slaps your tit, pinches your cheek, pokes your ass like he’s giving you a physical. You shake your head. “No?” Leon pouts at you, then he leaves you in the dark by slamming the lid. The thrill has sorta settled in, or he’s just tipsy, ‘cause he’s giddy about it, about having you back there. Highways are fairly empty at this time, and so now that he’s boosted by you not being dead and cognac, Leon parks up on the side of the road. Opens up his trunk, again, it’s the most he’s ever used it, shit is gonna fall off its hinges.
“You saved me,” you say when he takes your spit-soaked panties out of your mouth. “You found me, sir, I was so scared, I-I thought I was going to die in here.”
Leon’s confused for a second, then he gets it. You’re roleplaying as… as a kidnapping victim. Which you already are. So it’s like the Droste effect, or holarchy, or more simply a thing within a thing. You’re letting him take on the hero part, which he’s most familiar with, he’s good at being the good guy, that’s why Leon is a pretty crummy kidnapper. “I saved you,” Leon says flatly, he goes with it. “You should suck my dick to say thank you.” He didn’t mean to say that so soon, he was gonna play along for longer, but you made him really fucking hard just then. Teary-eyed, snotty, looking so cute and sweetly kidnapped.
Waiting for your response isn’t his style. Leon had his dick out before you even spoke, he was planning on just stuffing it in your mouth, but you went and made up a little story in your head to get him even harder. He shuffles forward, wipes the tip on your lips, slaps it on your cheek.
“C’mon, open up, baby.” You nose at the underside of his cock, then take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and giving it to him so well, how he likes it, choking once you get to the balls. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, forces you still as he pounds your throat, hearing you gag and heave brings him comfort, ‘cause you're struggling and he loves to make you struggle, loves to make you work for it. You've had it too easy, and now you’ve started liking the sex (read: rape), so Leon’s glad he can hurt you without you getting off on it. “Okay, okay, that’s enough, baby, you can stop that now,” Leon says like he wasn’t skullfucking you into a coma, his cock slips past your lips, strings of saliva beading your chin, your neck, your tits.
The trunk is kinda small, when he puts you on your front, your head rests on the backseats, and your legs dangle over the edge. “Can you untie me, sir?” You ask in a scratchy voice, throat shredded.
Leon ignores you. He’s busy scoffing at how fucking soaked you are, misses the days he had to spit on your cunt to get it wet, when he felt all big like his cock was imposing ‘cause you were so dry he had to force his way in, and you would scream so loud it sliced his skin, and he would groan for that contrapuntal effect ‘cause hurting you is the best thing he’s ever felt. Better than opioids, better than regular sex, better than a scalp massage, better than anything that feels mildly great.
Your cunt swallows his shaft too well, and it is hot to know you’re so far gone now, but would it kill your pussy to show some form of resistance? He knocks his hips forward so hard the car jolts, thrusts all his weight into you, so his cock is doing nothing but harm, breaking your cunt in, going past your cervix, womb-fucking and all that good shit. It doesn’t get further than your cervix for obvious reasons.
‘Cause his dick is not a knife, it’s a dick and it twitches when you clench. He likes having a dick, he likes to fuck with it, likes to stick it in places it shouldn’t be, likes to disfigure and wreck and ruin with it - fly in the ointment is that it’s not immune to stupid, sloppy holes that beg for it. Leon shudders, keeps himself buried to the hilt, rolls his hips forward so the tip jabs the fleshy, firm opening of your cervix in painful grinds.
“Leon,” you wheeze, twisting like you’re getting exorcised, “Leon— Leon, it hurts—“
“I know, baby,” Leon pats your ass, giving a sharp thrust forward to make you sob. “Keep talkin’ to me like that, turns me on.”
“Hurts so bad, hurts, Leon, ‘s gonna– ‘s gonna kill me, Leon– Don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, please–”
“Shit,” he laughs breathlessly. That was hot. Girls begging for their lives ‘cause his dick is too good. When you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby– You look fucked.” Like you’re terrified of him. That's how it should be. “Don’t go pushin’ me out,” Leon grunts, words punctuated by strokes that have you reeling in all the worst ways.
“I can’t–” Your head bumps the seats when Leon knocks you in the back of the head. Hard enough to stun you into silence.
“Can’t run from it, can you?” Leon bites down on your shoulder, momentary relief from the cruel drag of his cock inside your sticky cunt, now you can focus on his teeth. How he might tear into you. Eat you up. “Gotta take it for me, baby, ‘cause that’s what you're good for. No brains just got a stupid little cunt.” When he cums, you arch into him, and he fucks into you with all he’s got, till you’re stuffed full of his seed. Something to keep your belly warm for the ride home. Leon should get an award for being this considerate.
“Leon, can I sit in the front?” you sniffle, pathetic and floppy and orgasmless.
He sneers at you. “Do you want me to get caught, sweetheart? You wanna get taken away from me?”
“No, Leon…”
Click!
That was cathartic. Leon’s glad you’ve still got pain receptors, you’re not totally gone, clinging on for dear life, but still afloat. He carries his little body bag to the door. “Want a photo?” Leon sets you down on the ground, you cling to the back of his shirt as he struggles with his jammy lock.
“Oh, yeah!” You light up, “‘Cause you saved me!”
“Yeah, baby.” Leon ushers you inside. “I saved you.” From the boot of his own fucking car.
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sunsetkerr · 27 days
Text
SAMMY'S GIRL (ii) | s.kerr
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summary: MORE headcanons on your relationship with sam, read part one here.
pairing: fem!reader x sam kerr
notes: getting out lots of little headcanons because they're just so much fun to do. sammy's girl is my favourite of all my girls (completely bias, sorry) but if you want to see what other 'wags' are in my lil universes, check out my masterlists!! each 'wag' is also going to get their own tag, so check those out for little file facts, or ask questions/send thoughts so we can add to them all!! lots of love
as previously established, you’ve grown up with sam right
you’ve known her through every little phase and every weird obsession she’s ever had
you know her deepest secrets and she knows yours
its honestly quite jarring because you both know each other better than you know yourselves
you’re not at sporty as sam, only relaly dabbling in school netball for carnivals and stuff when they needed extra girls
but sam would try and include you as much as she could in all aspects of her career
if she was having a solo gym day, or just going on a walk
guess whos coming with!?!!!
its you!!!!!!
if she wants a swim at the beach for recovery
she is making sure that you tag along
(not just to see you in your bathers, its for recovery, have some professionalism please)
sam has spent half of her life without you and having to settle for seeing you through a screen
so once you’re in london with her permanently, she is making the most of that
she needs to shower? you’re passing her body wash
she’s hungry? shes making two servings and you’re eating with her
she wants a coffee? youre heading to your favourite spot
you are always around
and sam isn’t having it if you’re not
when she does have to go away?
youre getting texts from guro, erin and millie complaining about her
‘omg she wont shut up about you’
‘if sam doesn’t stop talking im gonna clock her y/n, i won’t be held responsible for my actions’
‘she’s at a new level of pathetic, please come get your girl’
but they understand, they love you too
the entirety of the chelsea squad know you’re at every game
they have a dedicated seat for you in the family and friends section
everyone is away that it’s your seat
millie’s fiancée wards people away from it
he once had to face the consequences of sitting in your seat
he wouldn’t wish an angry emma hayes or sam kerr upon anyone
but its not all about sam
she is just your biggest cheerleader
you were able to finish your degree online and were lucky enough that your credentials in australia carried over to the uk 
so you started working there
im picturing sports journalism???????? you were forced to be around sport your entire life that it kinda just became a natural thing
you were so well-informed on so many different sports it was crazy
sam loved plugging anything you were writing
you posted a new article? she’s sharing that shit on her instagram story
you won an award for a piece? she’s at the ceremony
you’re working overtime to get a project finished? she’s ordering you dinner to the office
as much as sam is a professional and very famous athlete
she’s still just sammy to you
and she’s never forgotten that
but to her, you are the best thing to ever happen to planet earth
and she makes sure that everyone knows
living with sam is lots of fun
you relish in all of the time you get to spend together
call it making up lost time
sure, she leaves her stuff everywhere
but you’re guilty of that too
you still hold each other accountable
‘sam you didn’t do the dishes’
‘okay and you didn’t hang out the laundry’
‘… fair enough’
making dinner together is just chaotic 
sam can only cook breakfast, she excels at smashed avocado
so she really lets you take the reins on dinners 
she succumbs to the sou-chef life
you force her to watch movies with you
she argues and says that tv shows are better
(even though you know she’s completely invested in whatever film you’ve chosen)
you have a little brother who just idolises sam
and he has since the day he was born
he was a classic accident child, a real surprise for your parents
but watching him grow up was just the best
hes the biggest women’s soccer fan you know
he’s up-to-date on all of the woso drama
definitely can tell you the entire timeline and drama of the mcfoord relationship 
so when he’s old enough
sam flies him over to the uk all the time
he just loves sam so much
he wears her jersey to every game, saying he doesn’t want anyone elses
(maybe maccas, but that’s a different story)
and sam is estatic to have him there
definitely walks out with him as her mascot on multiple occasions
sam isn’t super touchy feely in front of others
but when shes drunk, she can’t help it
she just wants to hold you and she doesn’t care who’s around to see it
sam really loves watching men at bars or in clubs try to hit on you
just to go and ruin their fun
it’s her favourite pastime really
sam’s extra sappy and clingy when tired
after a big night or a tiring game, she wants to curl up next to you and have you hold her until she falls asleep
sometimes it’s a foreign feeling for you
sam is almost always the big spoon
so you really drink in the feeling whenever she feels vulnerable enough to let you hold her for a change
sam is also extra attentive when you’re not feeling well
she’s so doting and always checking in on you
if shes around, you’re being waited on hand and foot
‘are you okay? do you have a temp?’
‘let me get you some water’
‘i don’t like the sound of that cough, y/n’
if she’s away for a game, your phone does not stop ringing
she’s always texting when she has a spare minute 
and if she has more than ten minutes to spare, she’s calling you to see how you are
sam just adores you
the fans adore you even more
the amount of tiktok edits of you and sam are crazy
the one of you in the stands after her goal against england in the world cup went viral
the way you jumped out of your seat and almost threw yourself over the barrier was on the news the next day
the clip continuing as sam ran over to your section, as you both shouted in celebration to each other
or the clips in the matildas doco series of the two of you
the lesbians went feral for that shit
everyone wants what you have
everyone wants you
you are that bitch
sam knows it too
and she’s not afraid to let people know just who you are
because you’re hers 
forever and always
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rzyraffek · 7 months
Note
Could you please do headcanons Slashers (like Michael, Brahms, Billy, The Sinclair brothers) as caregivers for their S/O who is an age regressor
Or headcanons for those Slashers when they find out their s/o is an age regressor?
Okay I acually went and educated myself on this topic for you my dear anon🥰🌼
if your uncomfortable with topic of age regression pls dont read that😭
So basically as far as I understand age regression means that somone acts like child due to some traumatic event??? And like they act childlike and participate in child typical activies (such as drawing with crayons, speaking like a toddler, drinking from bottles ect) if i make headcanon that don't make any sense im sorry! I have no experience with this topic! ALSO this is pure platonic! Age regression isn't a kink or a fetish!!
Slashers with age regressor y/n
Brahms Heelshire
Tbh y/n acting childish kinda woke up his inner child, CUZ HE LITTERALY GOT LOCKED IN WALLS IN AGE OF LIKE 10 so he kinda missed out on some fun stuff
100% plays hide and seek! Or tag! My man loves some good round of hide and seek, this place is huge! *insert british accent* "oh you little scallop... if I find you I will tickle you so hard..."
Question: age regression is like temporary or like forever thing? Like regressor acts like that when they are in bad metal state or just always? Bcs if always then it might be hard with Brahms, see he kinda.... has mommy's issues has huge need to be taken care of, probably similar to y/n's, he kinda wants a person who will just pamper him and make him feel like he's the single child yknow? All the attention on him? Yknow what i mean??
If y/n draws him something nice, dude will put it on a fridge with a magnet and be proud
If thats like temporary thing, he acaully will ask a lot of questions: how should he act? Do you remember anything? How does it work? Can he get some cuddles? Do you still love him while regressing? (Ofc you do, but he doest understand)
Billy Lenz
You guys vibe
Dude won't see any difrence😭
Yay one more reason to watch cartoons together! (His favorite ponny is rarity and fluttershy)
If y/n babytalks and uses toddler-like vocabulary... dude will mimic it😭 he just thinks that will help with communication😭 its not like you guys struggle with it or anything, Billy is just build like that
Yall draw together, his artstyle already looks like toddler drew it (not in cute way)
Plays dolls with y/n (but he acually makes it interesting! Like he makes it all dramatic and the tea is just jawdropping)
Also don't bother explaining what is age regression, just say "sometimes I act like kid to cope"😭
Micheal Myers
Judges
But kinda likes it, not in weird way! He enjoys taking care of y/n, but he has his own ways of doing so
He won't play with them or let them cuddle him too much
But he accepts little drawings and stickers that y/n gives him
He is still stalking them, making sure noone tries to bully them or anything
He is very protective, for example if y/n cuts their finger while making food, dude is all over them: Oh no no dont cry! Uhhh.... uhhh oh! See a pretty bandage? With puppies! Pls dont cry...
On rare days he is acually around (phicially i mean, cuz hes always around just not interacting with y/n) and it happens for him to be in good mood too, he will let y/n nap on him or put some stickers on his outfit- he never takes them of btw, the only reason that stickers wash of is the field he 'works' in? Yknow a lot of mud blood and water. He also holds y/n hand if they are spooked
And he fucking loves fluttershy and applejack
Steals some cute shirts and socks for them!
Sinclair Bros
Bo is the least understanding, tbh he will lisen to y/n only if they have very good relationship
Vince is just 👍
And Lester is acually very open to the idea
Drawing and playing dolls with Vincent
Going on cool drives with Lester
And napping with Bo
Whole fridge is covered in drawings and cute magnets
All Vincent's notebooks and Lester truck covered in stickers
Even Bo gun didnt escape the sticker apocalypse
Vince made special wax figurines for y/n
Lester calls them "kiddo" 😭😭
Bo puts his hand on their head and rubs it till their hair goes all puffy
They all act like older brothers who have to take care of younger siblings while perents are away😭😭
Vince acually vents to regressing y/n and they are just like: "man I just wanna pet the dog"
Bonus round! Added few more!!
Bubba Sawyer
Bestie vibes
Yall just spend time playing with dolls and drawing together
Absolutely lets y/n nap on him
He totally combs their hair and puts them in nice bun (or if y/n has short hair he will just brush it)
He kinda sees age regression as lil break from reality? Like you two can just vibe and act they way you want to😊 he enjoys, cuz tbh he do be acting like child(not in bad way!) And his happy that you both can do all those child-like activities without being judged by other person
Bit y/n once
Asa Emory
Ew a child
I mean
Idk he gives me "the dad that never has time for u cuz he has too much work"
Like yep he will read y/n a bed time story and he will tell them all about bugs and nature. But hes busy most of time
OMG ABOUT BED TIME STORIES Asa will read you one but he is so exhausted that he acually falls asleep first
He trusts them and knows that even whilr regressing they wont do anything dumb, but he still bans them from his 'workroom' theres... well some photos and drawings of victims and i doubt y/n wants to see it
Lets them sit on his lap while he reads newspaper like middle-aged man he is
Gives lil head kisses before sleep
Bug themed plushies and figures
Makes y/n watch animal planet and bbc nature with him
When he's out for longer periods of time he will buy them McDonald's as an apology
Welp
Done. I hope it makes sense! I never witnessed anyone age regress so idk how relatable it is!! I used x reader tags only to reach bigger audience
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moose-muffin · 2 months
Note
im new here (hiya from the hazbin tag lol) but if you do character + character requests than please PLEASE gimmie a lee!vox with ler!alastor 🙏🙏🙏hear me out... the two are fighting and al (sHocKINglY) wins out, and vox expects to like.. be beaten into the ground as a result, but nope!! he gets tickled!!! to tears!!!! smthn smthn he wasnt smilin and, yk, youre never fully dressed w/o a smile!!!
/nf to do tho ty for reading!!! <3<3
OMG OMG HELLO WELCOME I HOPE YOURE DOING GOOD YIPPEE
SO FUN FACT I WAS VERY LIKE NEUTRAL TO RADIOSTATIC BUT TONIGHT HAS BEEN (HAHAH GET IT) AN ADVENTURE AND THIS ROAD HAS BEEN SUCH A BLAST <3 THOSE TWO FUCKERS ARE SO INSTIGATIVE ITS CRAZY.
I KNOWWWW THIS AS A FIC WOULD GO C R A Z Y!!!!! IDK IF ANYONE HERE WRITE FOR VOX AND ALASTOR AND PERHAPS DOES COMMISSIONS BUT I WILL PAY!!!! PLEASE HIT ME UP OR ILL PROBABLY GO TAKE A PEAK FOR MYSELF TMR <3 AS LONG AS THATS OK ANON. (I WILL ABSOLUTELY LET IT BE POSTED AS LONG AS THE AUTHOR IS OK WITH IT WHICH USUALLY THEY ARE!!!!) IM GONNA TAKE SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES AS I TYPICALLY DO HEADCANONS!
IM NOT USUALLY A CHARACTER + CHARACTER GIRLY SO BEAR WITH ME BUT I WILL DO MY VERY BEST!!!! HOPEFULLY I CAN DO THIS JUSTICE! IT WILL BE RANDOM HCS THAT ARE UNRELATED TOO. MY BRAIN IS A MESSY PLACE HWBSHWDBD
OK SO LIKE I KINDA MENTIONED, THEY BOTH LOOOOVE TO JUST GET UNDER PEOPLES SKIN. LOVE IT!!! ESPECIALLY ALASTOR. HES SUCH AN ASS (affectionate)
I’D EVEN SAY HE’S KIND OF AN INSTIGATIVE LER???? BRO IS DOING EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER TO GET TO TICKLE VOX LIKEEE IDK IF THAT EVEN MAKES SENSE BUT I KNOW ITS TRUE. HE WILL CASUALLY WIGGLE HIS FINGERS IN CONVERSATION, TWEAK HIS RIBS FROM BEHIND, LITTLE THINGS LIKE THAT. WELL THEYRE NOT LITTLE. ESPECIALLY NOT TO VOX WHO IS SO FLUSTERED BY IT… ITS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING
BUT! VOX HAS STARTED TO FIGURE IT OUT. AS HE IS ALSO ONE WHO LOVEEES TO GET UNDER SKIN, HE DECIDES HE’LL DO EVERYTHING TO TRIGGER A LER MOOD IN ALASTOR. IF HE CAN TELL HE ALREADY HAS ONE, HE FINDS WAYS TO SUBTLY (WE ALL KNOW HE ISNT SUBTLE THOUGH) LEAVE A SPOT UNPROTECTED. BUT ALASTOR DOESNT WANT TO GIVE HIM THE SATISFACTION!!! HE TRIES SO HARD TO NOT GIVE IN TO VOX BC HE “WANTED TO BE THE ONE IN CONTROL” AND NOW HE ISNT AND HES #PISSED
ALSO VOX ABSOLUTELY IS HORRIFIED OF VULNERABILITY. YET HE IS ABLE TO MOVE PAST IT WITH ALASTOR HERE. SOMEHOW HE ISNT AS WORRIED ANYMORE. MAYBE HE KNOWS ALASTOR WILL REACT. HE LOVES THAT SO VERY MUCH.
AS FOR THE SPECIFIC PROMPT, OH THAT IS SO REAL!!!! ABSOLUTELY YES!!!
I DONT WRITE GOOD ROMANCE BUT LIKE UGH IMAGINE IT NOW. Alastor definitely just got himself to the V’s tower and was planning on fucking with Vox only to see he had already been kinda pissed off. Alastor wouldn’t be as satisfied if he knew he didn’t cause the frustration. He realized he could just stir the pot again. Problem solved, and what better way to solve it than using his weakness against him.. being tickled.
I’m being a little silly but genuinely Vox is so ticklish. Like most ticklish person in hell would go to him if it were an official title. That’s what I’m thinking. That being said, Alastor also knows how quickly he could get him to crumble… but wouldn’t it be more fun to take it slow.
Vox notices his presence almost immediately. He tried to ignore it as he feels his face get warm. He can’t fuck this up. He takes a deep breath and turns around. “Why hello, Alastor! What brings you to our building this evening?” He said in a semi newcaster voice. He wasn’t ready to drop the act
“Well Vox, I came here for a reason of my own but then I walked by your office and you looked so sad!” He began to walk closer to Vox. “You know, t they say you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”
Vox let out a laugh that was quite clearly untruthful. “Yes Alastor I am aware! I was alone in here and so I figured I’d just save up some energy. I’m sure you understand.”
“Quite frankly I don’t,” Alastor paused, “I think maybe I could help you get that smile back.”
Vox didn’t even have to think. He knew Alastor meant he was going to tickle him. You could ask Velvette. She’s seen those two in tickle fights that lasted for DAYS. she knows what they’re capable of, or more so what Alastor is capable of.
Vox puts up a fight for maybe a couple seconds but he just loves tickles more than he can play pretend that he doesn’t <3
It works out well for them both, Alastor gets to fuck around with Vox and well, Vox gets his shit rocked!!! And he loves that more than a lot of things.
OK IM GONNA CUT IT OFF HERE BUT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COME BACK!!!! IM ALWAYS DOWN TO HEAR WHAT PEOPLE ARE THINKING!! MAYBE ID DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAIN OR LIKE ADD ONTO THIS!!! BUT I AM JUST ALL OVER THE PLACE CURRENTLY HEHE. I HOPE THESE ARE ENJOYABLE!!! (LOWKEY I WANNA ADD MORE TO THISSSS MAYBE TMR MAYBE TMR WE’LL SEE)
apologies if anything is ooc, i just do this for funsies <3
THANK YOU FOR THIS ASKK
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wren-dy-flowergarden · 10 months
Text
A fairytale we will never forget. (Wanderer/f!Reader)
*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴ You are a failed writer of the Academia and Nahida gives you something to write about. Post Sumeru Arc! Wanderer x f!academiaReader *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴A/N: OK! LISTEN- I have so much I need to write and My Precious Treasures is giving me trouble. Let me have my small little scaramouche man to cheer me up until my writing gets better (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε`*). (Side note: not everything is cannon compliant, Im still on last act of story- but have been semi spoiled lol cause Kaveh stole my heart and the event was sooo cute!) *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Word Count: 3.3k *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Tags: if bickering was cute, writing stories together, lots of fluff, light spoilers, writer will do anything for inspiration, poor be'tad
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You've failed again and would you be surprised it's not the first time you have failed.
It might have been the sixth, but you have lost count when your writings could fill ten books worth. You look at the scrolls limply hanging off your desk, the textbooks pilling so high they create a safety hazard of 'homicide by books'.
It's not right. It's not correct. It's not factual. It's not accurate. That's all they say, when they dismiss you with a wave of their hand and close the doors in front of sleepless eyes.
You want to scream, because it's not fucking accurate when a measly academia scholar like yourself cannot even read non-biased readings that do not have the author as Great Sage.
You needed something to take your mind off this.
You needed a break.
"You want to write a fantasy novel?" Aether comments munching on a stick of grilled meat. He looked off put by your comment as his companion Paimon speaks up, "Paimon doesn't understand how more writing is taking a break from writing?"
"It's a break because I can enjoy myself! No need to look at which theory makes more sense than the old. No more citing ancient sages that lived hundreds of years ago that are outdated. A good old fantasy."
Aether rolls his eyes, "And what defines 'good old fantasy'?"
Your eyes shine as you point directly at him. He scoffs as he tries another vendor's dish, "I mean- You have fought literal gods right! Or at least people tell me you have fought monsters that are as strong as gods!" You pause as you comment on your own delusions, "Well- I'm not sure how strong a god is, but it sounds impressive."
Aether is about to stop you as you continue, "Oh! Oh, what about the time you slayed a dragon? That sounds super interesting."
He groans in a way that you sense is that every time someone mentions the words 'dragon', that he must correct them, "For the last time. We didn't 'slay' it. We purified the crystal that made Dvalin sick."
"...So, your saying saved a kingdom from dark magic and that is not fantastical enough!"
You slam a couple mora onto the next vendor as Aether finished his latest dish. Sure, that money was for the breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next two days but what could be better than breathing, live, material!
You plead, "Please! One story, any story! I need something to jump start my brain that is not a library book."
Aether looks up the sky longingly you would narrate it as a 'take me now' moment; but surely not from you.
"Any story?"
You beam nodding as Aether reluctantly says yes.
.
.
.
"So that's the story. Sorry about this but I need to be back in Liyue by tomorrow and knowing (Y/N), she can um- be a lot."
You can't understand the rest of the sentence, but you see Aether talking to a smaller girl with leaves in her hair and flowers that bloomed around her.
At least that is what you say, but behind the boy with a large hat covering his head wore a frown as you could see each flower wilting- dead on the floor fictitiously.
What a buzzkill.
The girl, Nahida is what Aether calls her and she reminds you of sunshine that warms your heart. She smiles as she gives a small wave to you. As she does the boy behind her taps his foot frown never leaving his face.
"I see." And there is an ethereal ring in the small girl’s voice, "Leave it to us, please give the people of Liyue and the him our regards."
"Huh! Us?" A voice speaks at the same time. It was the boy with short purple hair dressed in flowing clothes different than your own. He looked like the wind would parachute him away at any second.
Aether sensing the shift whispered goodbye to you, leaving the room with the small girl and the frowning boy.
The girl speaks up first, "Aether told us of your 'predicament'? She questions because, no, writing a fantasy novel isn't considered a predicament more than getting a thorn stuck in your thumb; compared to how the academia cranks out automatous, encyclopedias of information that are used as the life blood of people’s lives, but in a sweets way she gives respect as she looks in your eyes.
Or so you thought.
"Therefore, he will help you!" And she points her thumb behind her to a balking boy who stomps his foot down. You could have sworn you felt the ground shaking, but that was probably his attitude.
"Wha- I refuse! There is no way I will be helping that baboon." And ouch, because words do hurt but if he had any sense of social norms and could read the room he would not continue. But he did, "You expect me to become one of those mediocre story tellers on the street?"
You glower as you gather any confidence you have in your work, "How dare you. Stories keep people alive!" And he gives you a look as if you are the idiot in the room because stories don't technically keep you alive, but that didn't stop your ramble," They let us share emotional connection with one each other as we can obtain a deeper understanding of people!" Don't say it, remember your manners, “and someone like you that has the emotional capability of a doormat wouldn't understand that!"
You wince as you see the boy’s brow raise underneath his ridiculously large hat, his mouth snarling as he cracks his fingers. It felt like the air was being sucked out of the room.
"Oh, really now?" It sounds like a threat the way his tone bleeds with irritation, "Let’s see who's the doormat once I-"
Nahida, gently places a hand on top of his and the air returns to normal. You let out a gasp that you did not feel you were holding as her voice rings out, "Now children, that's not how to treat each other."
She looks stern? Like a mother that is discipling her child by the way his face writhes into reluctance. She gives you a harsh stare that makes you feel like your own mother is chiding you, "Now, people who ask for favors can't start fighting with the asked. Can they?"
You look down at the floor, digging your heel in, properly chastised, "No... they can't."
She turns to the boy behind, "And people who invite guests into their home..."
He looks reluctant as if this wasn't his first time finishing her sentence, "don't blast them away..."
Blast them away?‌ And you think the right answer should be 'threaten, cause bodily harm, or even joke about causing bodily harm' but the small girl looks content either way.
"Now to start good relationships, we shake hands!" She clasps her hands together smiling.
Neither of you move.
"I rather not take my chances."
"I rather put my hand in boiling water."
Oh yes, this will be wonderful...
You sit down on a bench overlooking the landscape of Sumeru. It was beautiful the way the bustling of the city created a divide between the ethereal beauty of the nature itself to the bustling city life that coexisted with it.
Now that's beautifully said. Wait- but you used the word "beautiful" at least three, not four times now. What could you use instead?
You were about to dive deeper into your thoughts before a voice interrupted.
"Hey baboon!" A voice calls in which you wish was with endearment, because at least that be cuter than plain degrading. The boy pushes a plate of sticky rice plated with different types of fresh fruit, covered with syrupy goodness, "This is disgusting."
He's been doing this a while now, ever since Nahida kicked you two both out of the house with a couple of mora to keep you both full (how nice of her). She commented on 'sharing experiences with one each other', leading you to buy your favorite dessert as an olive branch.
You see the way her pushes the plate off towards the side of the table, "Hey that's my favorite dessert you know!"
And he scoffs folding his hands across his chest, leaning against the chair, "You have the tastebuds of a child then." And of course he continues, because goddamnit he does not know when enough is enough, "Oh- I forgot you are a child trying to create a kid's book."
You don't know which is worse. You going back to your small apartment to keep writing a bleeding thesis paper or you having to deal with this punk.
You take a breath in, you strive for peace, "Well. Then what's your favorite food?"
He rolls his eyes, "I don't have a favorite food."
"Everyone has something they like." You counter because he is not getting off the hook.
He pauses before he replies in pure reluctance, "Tea. The more bitter the better."
Now you're folding your hands across your chest, mirroring him.
"Tea?" You deadpan, "That's not a food."
"Were you not listening? I said I had no favorite food."
This time you scoff, "Well then why don't you like sticky rice?"
"It's disgusting."
"That's not an answer!"
"It is an answer you complete and utterly useless-!"
A third voice, "Excuse me."
You both turn to a server that has seen better days in their effort to survive customer service industry. The man looks at you and then at him, "You need to leave unless you stop yelling at each other. There are others trying to enjoy the view."
You look behind him and indeed others do look frustrated with the boy and you. At least you can read the room before the boy in front of you could, he looked like he was about to argue, and it was an argument he would lose. Slamming a couple of mora with a quick sorry, you grab the boy by his sleeve running out leaving your mango sticky rice behind.
By the time you make it to the top of Sumeru you are huffing and puffing. Air feels like fire as you steady yourself on your kneecaps gasping. Next to you, the boy has every piece of flowing fabric in place, his face not even a drip of sweat upon it. In other words, he looks and probably is way healthier than you.
"How- huff aren't you- dying?" And you say it in a way the means 'how are you standing', 'why are you freakishly healthy' or in a comedic sort of way 'are you even human?'; but his jumps eyes wide as he retorts head up high, "Everyone can run at least that far."
You start to think about your counterparts in the academia and how even a mile run would make you want to never leave your room again, and then you rethink, because Aether is his 'friend?' and that blond hair boy is certainly the least normal boy you know but he might fall into the category of 'everyone' to your interviewee.
That gave you hope.
You sit at a rickety bench underneath tarp that give a nice shade in the sun, fanning your shirt to let air in between all your robes. You notice him standing off to the side, like a cat waiting to be beckoned and that almost makes this time bearably. He must have surrendered, because he sees you eyeing him then the chair across from you and he sit down right on the edge.
"So", you start once you’re sure you can say a whole sentence without wheezing, "I know- that maybe, we got off on the wrong foot," and he opens his mouth for another (probably insensitive) comment and you talk quicker, "but I'm ready to listen to any story you have to share!" There quick and simple.
He closes his mouth, the thin line never shifting in his lips before he huffed, "I don't have a story for you."
And all common courtesy went out the window as you breathe in and out, peace! Peace you say! "Everyone has a story." A twinge of sass, "Like how everyone has a favorite food."
"Fine. I'll be more clear. I have no "fantasy" story that you will want to write."
And you blink, that was not the response you were expecting. You feel the academic spirit ignited in you as you prod for more information, "What do you mean by that?"
He's thinking and you can see thunder clouds brewing in his purple eyes as he clenches his teeth, "You want those dumb fairy tales where idiotic princes go save a damsel huh? Someone who saves you no matter what even though there is no one there!" You describe it as lightning engulfing his eyes as it leaks out with every enunciation in his words. You can feel the hair at the bottom of your neck standing up, "How stupid you all are."
A moment of thought, "Well, if you put it that way it is pretty stupid."
His face contorts in a way that you wonder if your face muscles can do that as well, "Huh?!"
"Yah!" You twiddle you fingers as if trying to connect the dots, "I never said I wanted to write a classic fantasy story! Who gets to say what I will write?" You stand up renewed energy as the cogs move in your mind, "I'm writing this because I want to! Stories are meant to connect us and if I can't hear your story then how the hell am I even supposed to know what to write?"
You don't let him even start. His mouth agape.
"You're right I may be an idiot I will admit. I can't even pass a stupid thesis paper because I am too focused on the fact that every paper I have used as reference sucks the living life out of me faster than I can even graduate." You point a finger towards him, your index finger almost touching his nose and he is spluters, "But Im not an idiot when it comes to sharing others stories."
When you're sure he's not going to start on another rampant of the insipid state of his world you say one last thing. A perfect conclusion.
"We haven't formally introduced ourselves."
His brows furrow, "Ha- I know your name!" He says in a loud voice, but there is less venom this time.
You shake your head, giving little tuts of disappointment, "No silly" he preens at the word but it's payback for him calling you a baboon, "I don't know your name."
The boy eyes cross towards your fingertips as he slaps your hands away, "Get your hand out of my face." You can tell he is thinking.
He gives a sigh, before mulling over the possibility of only one-story telling night vs. a determined author who will bang on his door every day until she gets what she wants. At least that's what you believe he is thinking of.
"You can call me..."
His voice becomes muffled under his hat, and you ask him to repeat again. His violet eyes dart to the side darkening, like saying his name is sooo difficult.
.
.
".... hat guy"
You swear your ears misheard him underneath that large hat he wears as his voice projects to the ground, "Sorry, say that one more time?"
"...Hat...Guy"
This time you blink in incredulous response, "Hat guy?" You give him time to at least say a semblance of a normal name, but he is quiet, hands folded over his chest as his final answer, "Really? Hat guy?"
You throw your hands up, "I thought we were getting somewhere! Like I was trying to open up to you about the whole story thing!" Your hands lower in apocryphal delusion, "Hat guy... what type of parent names them hat guy?"
It's so ridiculous that you start laughing.
"Stop laughing! You're looking more like a baboon than before." A sharp comment breaks you out of breath as you hunch your sides.
You wipe a nonexistence tear from you tear ducts as you look at him. A faint mellow glow is left on his cheekbones- the only word you can use to describe the reaction is embarrassment.
Or anger. Probably anger.
The fleetingness of absurdity leaves you as the last hiccup escapes your lips, he looks like a cat that had water poured on him, "Sorry, sorry! I'll be serious now. Nice to meet you pft Hat Guy!" A guffaw escapes again and this time you have to stop because it looks like he's ready to punch your lights out.
You slip next to him, his face a contorting to annoyance. Pulling out a small journal, that has seen better days, kept in the back of your satchel you find a pen. Clicking the pen as you flip to an open page.
"So. Where do you want to start?"
"Wow (Y/N) you really..." Aether pauses finding the words, "stuck to the facts?" He finishes handing the rest of the paper to Paimon struggling to hold the rest of the pages in her tiny hands.
Paimon struggles to flip through the pages, squinting at the words on the page her eyes flicking to the violet haired boy in the back, "Yeah! Who knew that he was a prince of a continent who was known for dragon slaying? Then went on a thousand-year-old journey to find a piece of paper that hold the secret of a war from a long long LONG time ago...?" Even Paimon was awestruck by your story telling.
You puff up your chest in pride, "Well, the dragon slaying idea had come from you Aether. Gotta switch it around sometimes you know?" And you can see Aether facepalm his face mumbling something that's not worth the effort to narrate.
You turn toward Nahida and the boy of inspiration, "So! How do you like the first draft? I’m thinking of adding more details and vocabulary but all and all pretty good right!"
The girl, Nahida tilts her head in wonder, "I had no idea your story was so rich." She holds a secret behind her smile as she looks up towards the boy who hasn't said a word about the manuscript, "Truly, this has been an enlightening experience."
You nod rapidly, she always knew what to say to lift your spirits. You hop over to "hat guy" as he is staring blankly at your hard work. You give a small poke, and he jerks violet eyes catching yours.
"How is it?" You tilt your head to fit underneath his hat as you point towards a paragraph that has to do with the boy falling out of his kingdom in the first act, "Pretty accurate right? I tried combining multiple classic fantasy stories to create this, like you said."
He doesn't push you away, nor does he voice any acrimony. He does look at you like an adult would look at a child who made a mess of their kitchen before presenting equally a mess of a cake that people have to coo at because- it's a child's cake. Inedible, sloppy cute and the worst part- burnt on one side and raw on the other, but nonetheless a product of hard work made by a child.
Though this could be your imagination but notice him open his mouth after deliberating his thoughts. He decisively says in full confidence:
"I see why you haven't graduated."
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Text
Dry Humor
The Blonde Boys Club
Daemon Targaryen x Sorceress!Reader, Geralt of Rivia & Sister!Reader
Summary: I would say you pretty much convinced Daemon not to hold Geralt to his actions against him, considering how heavily he was flirting with you as you shared ale.
Word Count: 1k+
Warnings: AGAIN THE ONLY INCEST IN THIS IS THE CANON TARGARYEN INCEST IN HOTD I WILL DECK YOU IF U SHIP THE SIBS, fem!reader, witcher!twins, reader is kinda a witcher, I describe reader's hair and eye color, crack fic, typos, etc.
A/N: These gifs man 😩😩😩😩 they just make the scenario in my head so real. This has a part 1, though i dont think you need to read it to understand but it would make more sense though if you did. also idk if i will continue this, but yeah HAHHHA Also not everyone said they wanted to, but im tagging everyone that commented on the first part just cuz Tagging: @khaleesihavilliard @thenovelcarnival @miiikkeey @aomi-nabi @aralezinspace @pinksirensong @cleverzonkwombatsludge @ayamenimthiriel @deniixlovezelda
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Daemon released a sigh as he leaned his arms on the table. His glistening, alcohol laced lips were curved and his tilted his head at me
"A very convincing stance," the prince says after hearing my explanation of my twin's cold tendencies, and how, as much as we were a team, Geralt tended to overlook this and act on his own accord.
"Though," Daemon adds raising a finger, "not convincing enough."
I lean back on my chair. The silver haired man, directly in front of me, skids his, so that he was on the other side of the square table, adjacent to me. Now that he was to my right, he gives me a dramatic frown, "I don't think Caraxes will ever recover from your witcher's viscous attack."
I feel my lips pull into a small smile. He is pleased by my reaction and breaks into a soft chuckle before continuing, "you're going to have to atone for your brother's treasonous actions."
I lean towards him, mirroring the way his elbows were propped on the table. His smirk grows when he finds that I am unabashedly moving so close to him that he smells the ale on my breath.
"What if I told you I don't care if you throw my brother in prison?"
Daemon tilts his head, closing the space between us that our noses brush, "and what if I kill him?"
I chuckle, "you could try," I lean back, "but you would regret it, Prince Daemon."
He tilts his head and narrows his eyes.
I decide not to note on the matter further. If he wanted to know what I meant, he can inquire himself.
"I'm curious," he starts, grabbing his cup, "you mentioned magic is what makes your features so."
I hum, crossing my arms.
"How are you so sure it is not magic of Old Valyria that courses through you?"
I snort, rolling my eyes, crossing my arms, "why are you obsessed with the notion that we share the same heritage?"
"Well, it would explain how my ride obeyed you," he says, hand extending towards me, "and it would make it easier for me to wife you up."
I grab his wrist before he reaches my hair.
He grins at the force, "quite a grip you have."
"You do understand, boy, that you have only met me?" I raise my brows at him, "you've no idea the life I've lead before your parents were even born."
When I release him, his face contorts. It seems he was only now remembering the long life of my kind. Daemon pulls his hand back, only to reach out again and push the white streak of my hair behind my ear. I let him, rolling my eyes as he does so, "then consider me eager to learn, wife."
"Do not call me that," I narrow my eyes at him.
He chuckles, correcting himself by saying my name.
In that moment, I decide to pick the tiny bit of twig that has been sticking out of his long hair the whole time. I show him the object before flicking it away. He appreciates the sentiment it seems. He should not thought of it at all; the thing had been annoying me the moment I spotted it.
"You said your hair burns white because of your brother's," Daemon shifts in his seat to face me, one arm on the backrest, the other on the table.
I nod, "there is a magic between us. I used think it was simply because we were twins, and we had a special bond, which was why the chaos in our beings were so tightly connected. But I've come to realize, throughout the decades, it may be perhaps our mother tied us together, so that no matter what, we would survive through each other."
"You said you did not know your parents," Daemon knits his brows as he tilts his head.
"I never said that," I blurt, uncrossing my hands.
I reach out for my ale, but find that it is all but full. I turn to Daemon, "excuse me while I get us both a refill."
I grab both our cups and head for the keeper. I feel Daemon watch me as I walk away.
It is there by the bar, I walk up beside Geralt, watching him down his own drink. He appears disgruntled. It makes my nostrils flare in amusment.
"Idle flirting amidst pathetic conversation," he notes, eyes on his cup, "I'd say I'm disappointed in the Targaryen, but I don't think that's anymore possible, since he's got about as much prowess as the dirt underneath my boot."
I chuckle as I turn to the bartender, beckoning her by raising my two cups, "a fitting analogy, don't you think?" I turn to my slumped brother, "you cannot seem to get the crust off your soles."
"My blades usually help," he grunts, golden eyes staring at me.
I huff, slapping my hand on his shoulder, "take heart. Our conversation will not last any longer."
He rolls his eyes, grabbing his cup, "does he know that?"
I offer coin to the bartender, telling her I'm paying for Geralt's drink as well. She smiles back at me, then nibbles at her lips at the sight of my brother, who was too caught up with his drink to even notice. I turn away from her when her lips part at the sight of Geralt's throat, dripping with ale, Adam's apple bobbing as he finishes the last of his ale.
I shudder, grabbing my drinks, "maybe you should have tried not to listen to our conversation."
He grumbles wiping his lips, "trust me, I did not want to hear that flying lizard talk about wifing you-" he cuts himself off with a retch-like burp.
I eye the bartender, still ogling my brother, "take care of him."
She turns to me stunned, as if not realizing I was still here.
"Took you long enough," Daemon blurts, leaning on his chair, "did your brother give you a hard time over me?"
I set the cups before him and sit back in my place spot, "if you are so curious of my brother's words, mayhap you have been conversing with the wrong twin."
"Gods," he starts, grabbing the refilled cup, "I would rather die than converse with that dull creature."
I break into a giggle, just as I hear Geralt chuckle darkly from his place. I sigh, rubbing the cup in my hand, "I'm sure my brother would love to arrange that."
Daemon keeps his eyes fixed on me as he drinks. When he props the cup down, I do not hear, or rather, I do not listen to his next words, as I feel a viseral tingle. I straighten up from my chair, looking out the window behind Daemon, looking across the tavern, before ultimately my gaze lands on my brother who was already looking back at me.
The prince watches me, turning to where I my sights were, then back to me, "is something a matter?"
"Someone is looking for you," I mutter, turning back to him. I narrow my eyes at him as I lean in, "are you on the run, prince?"
Daemon is stoic, but I feel his nerves.
All at once, Geralt is upon us, hand on his hilt, annoyance on his face, "times up," he grabs my arm, "I knew this was a bad idea."
Daemon eyes him as Geralt continues, "if you have any further grievances, your grace, I suggest you sort out the ones with your search party first."
Daemon watches as I stand.
I turn to Geralt, who gives me a dark look. I look back at Daemon, who seemed to have stiffened upon hearing my brother's words. I give him a nod, "I trust everything is sorted between us, my prince. May the gods bless you with good fortune in your endeavors."
Geralt releases me as we turn from Daemon. However, we both still when he calls out, "I'll hire you."
I raise a brow as I turn back to him. Geralt's face sours as Daemon stands, "needn't I only toss a coin to a Witcher?"
"Not interested," Geralt hisses.
Just then, a man bursts into the tavern, muddy, bloody, and distraught, "IS THERE A WITCHER HERE?"
I raise my hand up as Geralt turns. He takes in his bewildered expression before calling out, "here."
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tangledinink · 5 months
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Heya! First off I’m around halfway through teenage mutant what now and it is the funniest fic I have ever read - Beautifully written and overall brilliant but the jokes get me every time
And second, is it okay if I reference a pose from one of your gemini artworks for my own work? I’ll credit the inspiration if I post it anywhere ^^
whew we're overdue for an ask dump,,, OKAY ALRIGHT.
THANK YOU ; w ; I'm really glad you like it hehehehe. also yeah sure feel free! I don't mind! ^^
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HEHEHE THIS MAKES ME VERY HAPPY THANK YOU
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oh he DEFINITELY freaked out at first. there was a lot of panicking and confusion and "how could this even happen?!" ("you think i'd genetically engineer a creature that's not capable of reproducing? all of you should be genetically compatible with practically any yokai," draxum said. "AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO, I DUNNO, TELL US THAT?!" donnie said.) but eventually, he did calm down, and he and his partner talked about it (a bunch, multiple times), and eventually some of the panic gave way to... curiosity, first of all... and then maybe kind of excitement? and some fondness? i mean, he was still pretty scared, and sure, he doesn't really consider himself a 'kid' person, but it's not like he never thought about EVENTUALLY having kids, just maybe... not so soon? but. i mean.
well. if they're already cooking...
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THANK YOU ; w ; i'm glad you like them! @kiwi-smug-silvalina
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oh gosh, that's a good question. i'm not entirely sure... uhmmm... i would say perhaps... details about how gemini!donnie's witchcraft looks and acts, VS how venus's witchcraft looks and acts...
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it is very shiny. i like that people call it "the bean" instead of its actual title coz it pisses anish kapoor off.
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ah ; w ; THANK YOU SO MUCH,,, thats so sweet and this made me very happy,,, <3 im glad you liked it!!!! @allegedllama
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HEHEHE thank you. yes im aware that i am deranged.
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omg same hat!!! i was a lifeguard and it was.... uh.... INTERESTING to say the least... (sometimes lovely, sometimes AWFUL...) @datfearlesschick
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if by games you mean 'messed up deals that she can manipulate to her own advantage,' then yes! @frogonamelon
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@beannary @spectralsleuth @heckitall @livsinpjs and the sep council as a whole!!! y'all's support has definitely meant so much and there's no way i'd have gotten as far with any of my projects as i have without them... or without literally ANY of the people who take the time to do things like reblog with tags, leave commentary in the tags, send in asks about my stories, etc etc etc! that's definitely one of my main motivators to create more!!! <3 thank y'all!
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EEEE this made me smile, hehehehe. thank you :3c @thejavavoid
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AAAAAA THANK YOU THIS GENUINELY MADE ME SO HAPPY COZ I WAS SO GODDAMN PROUD OF THOSE HANDS AND HOW THEY CAME OUT ; w ; THANK YOU @onejellyfishplease
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thank you!!! u w u @fanrulerjynx
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THANK YOU ; w ; I REALLY APPRECIATE THIS,,, it made me very very very happy and HEHEHE IM GLAD YOU LIKE YASSIFIED DRAXUM,,, i just think he DESERVES it, y'know? also thats just my favorite way to draw characters lmao I think it's fun so I decided for this comic I just get to indulge...
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not necessarily-- this was mostly just a coincidence! @breezehurricane
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oh gosh. i'm not sure, but i know it definitely WILL affect their parenting... i think at first donnie will find himself just... deferring to his partner a LOT in almost any situation because he's afraid that he'll fuck it up, because he DOESN'T feel like he understands proper boundaries or what parenting is supposed to look like, etc etc etc, and he's afraid he'll mess up. he probably reads a TON of parenting books as well because RESEARCH and will often try to pull directly from them in any situation he can, and is confused when things don't go exactly the way they were described in the text... leo i think kind of tends to flounder between being overprotective and feeling the desire to protect his son from everything and anything and wanting to overcorrect this tendency by pulling back and trying to give him as much freedom and space as possible, which sometimes leads to some... inconsistencies. there's definitely a learning curve for both of them, but they both get the hang of it eventually. they both have lovely partners and a very loving and supportive family to help them and they'll figure it out with a bit of practice.
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ahhh thank you! :D im so delighted that my silly stories actually inspired something for you!!! hell yeah!!! MAKING THINGS IS GREAT!!! THANK YOU!!! @can-elope
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i like to imagine them all staying very close, especially coz i'm loosely planning on them all going through the kraang-apocalypse together (and then coming through to the other side!) so i can't imagine them ever drifting too far from each other, emotionally or geographically. there's a bit of a rocky start for a lot of them, but all of the siblings end up a very tight-knit bunch.
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alj0saray · 1 year
Text
Magi Poly Relationship
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ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), SMUT, Bad English, Yandere, Toxic Relationship, AFAB Reader (body parts such as a "pussy", "cunt" no use of pronouns), Mention of pregnancy, Dubcon/Noncon, Judar being a brat and a bully, Threats (physically and mentally, but I don't go too much in detail), Threesome, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! Please if you like my work don't forget to reblog/interact with me♡ Minors, ageless, blank blogs, and silent readers will get blocked if interact with me. ➳ Characters: Hakuryuu Ren, Judar
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⤠ HCs to your failed escape (Hakuryuu) ⤟ Magi Masterlist ⤠ Yandere with a bit of smut (Judar) ⤟
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Anon requested: I'd be happy to give more magi requests? Maybe yandere!judal and yandere!hakuryuu sharing an afab darling hcs? Like during their whole fall into depravity era (idk if you've read the manga that far) maybe with some...dark content? If you don't do poly than just the characters separately plz!
Oh im not too sure if this is what you wanted anon yk, I think you wanted more smut but I went "nono understand how this dynamic doesn't work" or smth like that HAHAHHA I hope you like this either way 💙💙
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Bad bad bad. Like very bad. You have a paranoid and mean emperor and his bratty magi not leaving you alone for a second, in fear that you might run away at the first possibility (you should). They never quite leave you alone for a moment, they love you so much they can’t leave you alone
And you are most of the time with them; eating, bathing, sleeping. Everything is done together, so it’s not really surprising when they suggest having a threesome. It’s not like they ask you what you think, it’s more about them deciding how to share
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Judar wants to fuck either your pussy or mouth, bathe right in front of you and eat in the sit next to you. And he isn’t willing to compromise or corporate in any way, he is a brat and he will get what he wants whatever or not Hakuryuu likes it. 
So most of the time they spend it arguing until they can find a compromise that makes both of them happy; they will simply do fifty-fifty. Once Judar cums inside it will be Hakuryuu turn, and you will always be in between them so they will always be near you.
If they think that they are spending the same time with you and sharing you equally it’s fine, at least they think so. Don’t try, or suggest, to spend time alone with one of them or they will be furious and the so-called “peace” they managed to have will break, which is something you should avoid at all costs
Judar and Hakuryuu usually get along well, but that’s mostly because they have a goal in mind that is the same. When the goal is still the same, but more egoistical (wanting your time) they have a hard time agreeing on anything, and you can help but it would take a long time for them to take into consideration your idea
They can agree on something rather quickly: you won’t escape. And if you do, Hakuryuu can easily track you down with his power (he probably put some plant seeds on your clothes so that he knows where you are) and Judar can just teleport himself there. When they are working together they can be pretty scary to be with
Like for example you are choking on Judar's cock because of how fast and deep Hakuryuu's hips are thrusting against yours, making you feel his dick even deep inside your womb. Oh how both of them would love to fill you with so much semen that you don’t even need to go the doctor to check if you are pregnant
But then you would have to deal with 2 men constantly fighting over who baby it is inside your tummy, which is no idyllic… 
Even if sometimes, sometimes they will break their own rules: maybe Judar got too horny and jumped on you, whatever or not you are cool with doesn't really matter to him, so he fucked you in the garden behind a tree. Or maybe Hakuryuu with the excuse of being “sweaty and smelly” from training to have a bath, where his hands are getting curious and exploring..
Obviously they will threaten you to silence, either only with words or action too. If you thought that, since you are their darling, they are going to be soft on you think again with open eyes: they aren’t and they won’t, especially if you misbehave or do something they don’t like. And Judar would probably laugh at your pain anyway (he’s a bully who likes to see you cry)
It isn’t that bad most of the time by the way, you can always be sure that they will protect you until the very end and you will never find your bed empty or cold with Hakuryuu and Judar, mostly because they will be too focused hugging you to sleep soundly… (and judar likes to be held fight me ON THIS ONE YOU BRAT)
↳˗ˏˋTaglistˊˎ˗↴ none. want to be added to my taglist? Please check here! Feel free to send some feedback about it🤍
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This work belongs to @/alj0saray, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡
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alienssstufff · 8 months
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thoughts on q!dapduo ? (i’ve been thinking about their interactions during the wedding but it can be from any time period on the qsmp)
bro i fucking love dapduo. EVERY universe.
I've already spoken about them before and most definitely after the QSMPdinner event today my dapduo brainrot grows evermore >< You can probs dig for them through either the #dapduo or #stufff rambles tags yourself but here some of the links I'll be looking back on for this: >q!dapduo grieving > the guapoduo wedding arc >q!Slime's identity with Slime and Gegg >q!Quackity's identity and values
Summary of the 28/07/2023 QSMP Election Dinner: Gegg shows up to the venue (removes his armour AND his totems like a fucking idiot sorry im still heartbroken over this) and the remaining candidate members are ambushed by codes pretending to be eggs and Gegg loses his last presidential life. Slime returns as Slime and comes clean to everyone that he was Gegg all along but ElQuackity isn't so sure about this. ElQuackity and Slime have a conversation and (in chat) Slime secretly agrees to help ElQ win the election.
Out of pure impulse, I went and transcribed their whole interaction you can read it HERE
[ ramblings undercut ]
ANYWAY SO very important to know that roles and how they are perceived by others is an integral value to both Quackities' motivations whilst Slime's values are introspective, focusing more on his own identity (Slime/Gegg) rather than the outside. Throughout the entirety of the qsmp timeline, the both of them suffer near the same struggles yet respond to them differently because of their motivations which is why they compliment each other so well.
Q!Dapduo are able to sympathise and find comfort in eachother's pain simply because no one else on the island could ever experience what they're going through... Even if their way of comfort is not healthy.
Even if ElQuackity was m.i.a for a bit, before then he still considers himself close with Slime. ElQuackity learnt the assignment that Quackity was Gegg's father and went with it and most definetly caught feelings (platonic) that resonated when caring for Tilin and the other eggs. They were suffering together.
Cut to the QSMP Dinner where Gegg dies. The sadness ElQuackity felt was genuine yet bittersweet. His best friend, is finally learning to accept all parts of himself - but this is also a big turning point that the relationship dapduo have will never be the same. ElQuackity can no longer use Slime as a support structure (IN the manner that he used to at least) because he's broken free from the role that he's been given while ElQuackity has yet to do the same.
Q: No nononono you're viewing it the wrong way I think there's more to Gegg.
THIS LINE HAS SO MANY FUCKING LAYERS LIKE on one hand ElQuackity obviously is doing copium rn, but in retrospect he does have a point that Slime hasn't fully come to terms that Gegg and Slime are one in the same. They are parts of him and both sides are starting to mesh together and it's Slime's mission to better understand himself.
AND THEN ON A DIFFERENT LAYER, IF WE PIT THIS WITH THE CONVERSATION ELQUACKITY WHISPERS TO SLIME it's also really scary. Yeah he's going to use Slime to win the election, but it's also unconsciously ElQuackity's way in keeping Slime as this emotional support, and whatever this deal insinuates I am SO scared. This idea is also reinforced visually by Slime's body language as he physically backs himself into a corner by ElQuackity as he accepts the deal -- Which makes me think Slime is definitely aware of ElQuackity is trying to do and makes me wonder the reasoning as to why Slime accepts this deal.
One wants to leave but the other doesn't even know they're trapped in this together.
Q!DAPDUO .
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greyeyedmonster-18 · 8 months
Note
Do you have any fic recs for maybe the best Sirius portrayals you've come across? Thanks!
ahhhhhhh
okay well, im obviously biased, and i love my own fics, the end.
but, if you don't want to read my nonsense, here are some of my favs:
-the son and heir of nothing in particular by @steelycunt (aeridi0nis on AO3) as well as on the issue of fever and delight and in lieu of beaujolais.
as you can see, i'm particularly fond of their writing and despite loving to be mean to Sirius (in the best sort of way, he is our barbie doll that gets chewed on sometimes, shaken like a rag doll), always do a phenomenal job of capturing his demons and the vibe. there's a particular line in OTIOFAD where sirius is there trying to apologize, and he, like, can't figure out how to slouch enough to do so, and it just hits right where it should. yes.
-the shape and sound of god by @dykefever (dykesiriusblack on AO3).
this is a fleabag AU, and Sirius is the star of the show. I am in love with this sad, sad, depiction of him. What I love a lot about sirius is how raw he is, like literally an open wound walking around and he pulls people into it, but he's always honest about that too. and is just like trying trying trying to be better, but the wound is just festering and. this. also, if you're in the mood for more dykefever, i highly recommend (in my room) i want you here
sweater weather by lumosinlove; look, i am a cult member too. i am nothing but a cult member. (i'm not tagging because I'm sure they get tagged 80x every day, yall know where to go)
Beneath a Big Blue Sky by @eyra; also a cult member for this one, i can't help it. There's something so delightful about sirius in this. and understanding. our sweet silly boy. everyone's comfort fic is also my comfort fic.
Boys Don't Cry by @blitheringmcgonagall (YouBlitheringIdiot on AO3);
i don't tend to read about the Prank because it makes me feel too much and drives me insane but THIS ONE. THIS ONE. yes. will read. and Sirius's characterization in this is top tier.
Drifters by twentysevensummers; the insane times i have read this single chapter.
At the Healing Edge of Broken by @heartofspells
OKAY LOOK I HAD TO COME BACK AND EDIT THIS POST. so fair warning (and i told tumblr user heartofspells this when i was reading as well), i had to do some skimming with some of the subject matter in this fic. BUT that does not erase the fact i LOVED this sirius. i loved how sweet he was with harry. i loved his humor. i loved his arrogance and forced vulnerability. I binged this and then went straight to the authors DM's to scream so. yeah. whoops.
(please let the record show i dont generally make rec lists because I'm always afraid someones going to be sad they weren't on it. but here are some of my favs that i find myself returning to.)
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hi! this is the same anon who asked about the writing thing but--since they all had switched classes, is how you tagged/call them what they refer to each other as? (so like everyone refers to them as mediscout, engimed, demo-spy, etc.) or do they just refer to them as their new classes (so referring to the mediscout purely as Medic?) obviously they call solly spyder (which i think is so cute and very fun :>) but im curious about the others! so i guess this goes into the territory of: are there any nicknames they all call each other--or at least ones you think stand out?
Hello hello! First of all, thank you so much for asking so many questions and allowing me to talk about my AU to you all, I really appreciate that you guys are enjoying this as much as I am! <3
Second of all, I'm so sorry this took so long to answer!! I have seen your other ask concerning the writing for my AU, and I have to tell you beforehand that it's okay if you lost motivation or inspiration to write this during the long wait. I totally understand if you don’t feel like doing this anymore. Please don't force yourself to write for something you lost interest in. But I’ll gladly still infodump you about the AU!
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Names:
Sure, if you wanted to you could just call them their job names. It would make it easier for the readers to recognize each character, but I do have some actual names I came up with if you prefer something more natural sounding!
All the job switched mercs chose their own names, but I deliberately made the names they chose sound as close as possible to the OG Red mercs'. Because the irony here is that they are clones who try so desperately to be unique and different from the OG team, but still managed to somehow copy them despite all their efforts not to.
But I'm really shit at naming things so the effect was kinda lost :')
Sniper as Soldier- Monday or Mondy
Reason: When asked about his name choice, he paused for a moment and asked back, "what day is it today?"
"Monday."
"Monday it is, then."
Soldier as Spy- June or Spyder
Scout as Medic- Germs (short for germinoma) (yeah idk what happened with this one but I didn't wanna call him Jerry either)
Reason: June chose the wrong day to ask Germs about name choices. When asked, the battle worn, tired, salty field-medic grabbed a random medical book from his bookshelf; opened the book; flipped to a random page; viciously stabbed his finger on a random spot on the page and read the word under his finger: "germinoma"- all the while maintaining direct eye contact. It was supposed to be sarcastic. June took it literally, so it became his permanent nickname (much to his dismay)
Medic as Engineer- Ludovic (sometimes they call him Ludo, for short)
Spy as Demoman- Louise, Lois, Lassie, Louisiana, Lyse (any name similar sounding enough to Lois works)
Reason: His "boom sticks" are modified versions of an actual French cigarette brand called "Gauloises". Since none of the mercs actually knows how to read French, they severely butchered the pronunciation and ended up just dropping the beginning of the word entirely, sticking with "loises". However, everyone had varying interpretations of how to pronounce THAT too. So his exact name remains a mystery, and he won't clarify either (he finds it fun to see them try and guess).
Demoman as Sniper- Trevis
Heavy as Pyro- Mikel
Engineer as Heavy- Belle
Pyro as Scout- Zippo
Reason: ya know... zippo lighters... and he's a scout now, so he ZIPS past you... get it?
These are all very bad names, I know, but hopefully you can tolerate my utterly abysmal naming skills :')
Nicknames:
- Monday sometimes calls Lois "Goldilocks" as his own godawful pronounciation of "Gauloises". It annoys Lois to no ends and Mondy loves it.
- He also sometimes calls Germs "bun-bun" to piss him off about his buck teeth. He feels too bad to joke about Belle's tho.
- Monday uses the most nicknames with others, 90% of which is to mock or annoy but it's all in good fun (usually)
- THEY'RE ALWAYS THE SILLIEST NICKNAMES TOO, WITH EVEN SILLER STORIES BEHIND THEM. Just think of the dumbest, goofiest, sounding names
- He once honest to God called Mikel "Jason" and did NOT elaborate
- Germs rivals Monday with his own silly nicknames for everyone, but his tend to be a bit more... vulgar
- "HEY FUCKNUGGETS"
- "fly high, chucklefest junior!"
- "calm down Colonel shrinky-dink"
Okay, that's it for now. love you, bye bye, I'll see u again in another ask!
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