#you other guys are kinda boring no offense

[pucksandpower]

Bet on It

Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader

Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you

“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.

His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.

You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.

Which is every time he’s asked.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”

You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.

“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.

“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”

He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”

You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.

“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”

“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”

His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”

You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.

“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”

You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.

“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”

You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.

Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.

“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”

His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.

“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?

“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.

On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...

Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.

But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”

A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”

You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”

He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?

***

Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.

You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.

But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.

The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.

Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.

The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.

Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.

Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.

You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.

Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.

You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.

He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.

“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.

You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.

He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.

The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.

After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.

Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.

“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”

“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”

Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.

You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.

No matter how dreamy his eyes are.

***

The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.

Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”

You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.

During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.

Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.

After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.

You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.

When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.

Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.

“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.

“I’d like that too,” you whisper.

A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.

One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.

When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.

Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.

This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.

The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.

At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.

When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.

Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”

Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.

You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”

***

The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.

You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.

Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.

Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.

“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.

Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.

Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.

Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.

Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.

The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.

You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.

“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.

You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. “Oh, um, well ...”

Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”

Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”

He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.

Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”

With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.

“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.

He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”

You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.

Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.

And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.

***

After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.

You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.

A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.

Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.

You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.

“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.

A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.

You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”

“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.

You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”

Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.

You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”

That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.

When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”

He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”

He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.

“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.

The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.

His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.

You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”

Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”

Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.

By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.

Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”

“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”

His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”

You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.

A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[laikabu]

saw someone who hc kabru as aromantic bisexual. thats actually kinda good. i dont necessarily subscribe to it but i could see it. not fully aro but in the spectrum i guess

im now just going to ramble about how i think this would work in my head. also labru bc this is my page

he sees flirting more as a game n marriage as something convenient than something he aspires to achieve w the one he loves

flirting n dating is more of a tool to make friends. he isn’t interested in getting serious so that usually turns them off, so he gets labeled as a ‘player’

he doesn’t return rin’s feelings even though he finds her physically attractive, because he genuinely values her friendship and the way he views romance is incompatible with hers and would just break her heart

ok labru territory turn away now sorry im pulling shit out of my ass atp

laios would fit right in with his preferences, because their relationship would be boiled down to “best friends who have sex” like, the easiest way for them to explain their thing

even if they go on dates, they’d be more interested in talking about a current topic or something they need to do, than super sappy stuff. they still do it! but kabru would kinda get uncomfortable with saying sappy stuff, it’s different from flirting. once laios recognizes this, he tells him he doesnt have to do that

it works out because while laios is kinda sentimental, he isn’t really a romantic person. when they were still figuring stuff out, laios just goes “x is mad at me because they think not doing y makes me a bad partner” but really, kabru doesn’t care whether he does it or not

if laios is saying this about a different partner, kabru would chastise him, but since it’s him, he’s totally fine with none of that happening

when it comes to them becoming spouses, they would rather forgo a real wedding and just do the paperwork to make it happen. marcille takes offense to this n thinks its an “affront to romance” esp since kabru wants to plan HER wedding, but neither of them think it’s a big deal

laios has a very hard time distinguishing his platonic feelings to his romantic feelings. he’s just very happy kabru that wouldn’t leave him or get bored of him. getting to kiss him and have sex with him is just a nice bonus.

kissing and cuddling is more of an emotional recharge or comfort etc for kabru than a romantic activity. his friends don’t get it at all.

even in my stupid baby universe its just “kabru wants to have a baby with me for the kingdom? he’s such a nice guy. he told me he wants utaya to live on too… thats so thoughtful.” their relationship is ‘blunt’ and ‘convenient’. the marriage was just to legitimize the heir and otherwise it was just a regular wednesday.

they love each other, but kabru expresses it to the extent that he could, and that works out for laios.

tl;dr basically someone who views romance as a performance than something ingrained w him x someone who struggles w romance. its totally fine if you dont see kabru on the aromantic spectrum, i don’t necessarily see it that way either! i just want to think about how it would work in my fanworks. what do u think. i should add more but im just going off at the top of my head LOL

#labru #then again labeling it as aromanticism is just more Convenient #than whatever the hell is happening in kabru’s beautiful autistic mind

[aliaology]

SO AMERICAN (short)

SUMMARY: in which holtzy and you are dating, and you are very much in love with him

PAIRINGS: alexander holtz x fem!hughes!reader

WARNINGS: none just fluff :)

driving on the, right side road. he says im pretty, wearing his clothes. and hes got hands that, make hell seem cold. feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem i wish i wrote. i wish i wrote.

you were the prime example of ‘passenger princess’ but in your very own car. i mean— it wasn’t necessarily your fault that you weren’t the best suited to drive in the city. no no— it was jacks because all he did was drive you and luke around.

but your brother was not the one driving. no, it was your boyfriend who was. you also never understood why he loved to drive your car. but the actual reason was because it was so… you. and he loved that.

your feet were propped on the dashboard, notebook and pen in your lap and hand as you mindlessly scribbled words together. alex’s hand was on your thigh, the warmth from his hand spreading throughout your body like a wildfire.

his fingers traced lightly on your bare thighs, pinky almost sliding up and hitting your shorts with every move he made. the bumps in the road made it so his hand would lightly hit your skin.

your eyes were averted to the pen and paper as you eagerly wrote down word after word, his hand squeezing your thigh every few minutes.

as he squeezed your thigh one more time, you looked over to him. he was the epitome of a love poem and you wished you were the one to write it. with a soft smile on your face, you leaned closer to him and placed your lips onto his cheek.

and he laughs at all my jokes, and he says im so american! oh god, its just not fair of him to make me feel this much. go anywhere he goes, and he says im so american! oh god, im gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. i might just be in la-la-la-la-love.

you two were at a restaurant, smiling at each other. you spoke, hushed and quietly, almost with embarrassment. your words caused him to burst with laughter, hand slapping over his mouth as his shoulders shook.

his reaction caused you to giggle, a bright smile on your face. the smile would quickly turn to one of embarrassment when you ask a waitress for a meal— one that you have trouble pronouncing. and he laughs as the waitress leaves.

you had a frown on your face— not one of sadness but one of ‘are you kidding me?’

alex snorted as he spoke, “you are so american.”

feigning a look of offense, your eyes narrowed slightly, giving a look of hurt. this just caused alex to chuckle more before grabbing your hand and pressing a small kiss to it.

“how about we just get out of here instead? i think i’d very much rather eat in.” he suggested.

and so you went wherever he did. you ditched the restaurant. you ditched the fancy dinner, and you went home. when you got home; you both eagerly sat on the couch and just watched a movie.

god im so boring, and im so rude! cant have a conversation if its not all about you. the way you dress and, the books you read. i really love my bed but man its hard to sleep when he’s with me. when he’s with me…!

you sat with your friends, picking at your nails as they spoke. their conversation being something about style— something about clothes. you weren’t too interested, you weren’t even talking.

“anything to add, y/n?” one asked.

you shrugged. “i don’t know— style wise i really like alex’s and maybe i’m just biased but it seems super comfy. shockingly he also has a great taste in books and—“

“girl all you do is take about your man!” your friend cut you off.

another friend piped up, “can’t say i blame her. i mean we’ve been friends for what? seven years? in that time frame shes had one boyfriend and he kinda sucked. if i had a man treat me the way hers does, i’d be plastering that everywhere.”

your last friend shrugged. “i get it— honestly i want to hear more about this guy. she talks about him but its never enough because someone interrupts her.”

“its fine— all you really need to know about him is that he treats me very well, and i love him.”

after your little get together with your friends, you made your way to your apartment. the sun was setting and you wanted to lay in bed. but as soon as you got home, locked up and went to your room and saw your boyfriend, you knew for a fact you wouldn’t be going to sleep.

i apologize if its a little too much, just a little too soon. but if the conversation ever were to come up i don’t wanna assume this stuff. but aint it rough? think im in love!

#hockey #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #new jersey #new jersey devils #jack hughes #alexander holtz x y/n #alexander holtz x reader #alexander holtz imagine #alex holtz #alexander holtz #holtz10 #10

[marvel-ous-m]

Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (2/5)

Part One 

Part Three

A.N.: Um... guys, WHAT?! The outpouring of love and support for a blurb I had sitting in my Notes app for the last two months has been absolutely wild. I’ve been writing for the better part of the last day, and this is now a ~7k, five chapter fic that I will be posting to Tumblr as well as my AO3. I can’t thank y’all enough for all of the support, and I hope you like where this is heading! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

After Steve finished ranting about the middle schoolers he spent time with, Eddie launched into a description of the campaign he was working on for Hellfire. Steve listened intently as Eddie spoke, slowly making his way through Eddie’s sandwich and the bottle of water until both were finished. Eddie kept talking after Steve finished his food, distracting himself by going on a tangent about goblins in D&D. He was pulled from his rant at the sound of a soft thump- which, Eddie realized with surprise, was Steve’s forehead slumping down far enough to hit the tabletop. 

Steve sat up almost immediately when his head hit the table, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 

Eddie snorted at Steve’s antics, piling his books together. “Damn Stevie, I didn’t realize I was that boring.” 

“Stevie?” Steve whispered under his breath, then shook his head, shooting a sheepish smile Eddie’s way. “You didn’t bore me- I liked it, really, I just-”

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie cut Steve off, smirking at him. “You don’t need to make excuses. No offense man, but you kinda look like shit, I can tell you haven’t been sleeping well. Speaking of which- why are you even here? You should probably be at home resting, not zombie-walking your way through a day of classes.”

Steve hummed at that, shrugging and resting his cheek on his palm. “S’better here than it is at home.”

Eddie frowned at that, his brow creasing. Steve had just told him a few minutes ago that his parents hadn’t been home in three months, and all of Hawkins knew he was the only child of the Harringtons. What was so bad about spending the day in a giant mansion that most definitely had central heating? Eddie would kill to spend these winter months in a house like that instead of under approximately fifty blankets (while somehow still freezing his ass off) in the trailer. 

Steve breathed out a small puff of air, and Eddie noticed that his eyes had slipped shut in the minute-or-so that Eddie had been distracted by his internal monologue. Shit, Steve was really exhausted. Eddie sighed and stood, quietly loading his books into his backpack. After zipping up his backpack and pulling it onto his shoulder, Eddie gently shook Steve’s shoulder, wincing sympathetically. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Steve up, but Mrs. Boliene would have a fit if she saw Steve like this.

He was definitely not expecting Steve to practically jump out of the chair, or for his breathing to suddenly grow erratic, in response to being woken up. There was something in his eyes- a kind of fear that Eddie could only associate to something he saw in Wayne’s eyes after waking his uncle from a particularly bad nightmare. 

Eddie held his hands up, taking a step back from Steve. “Hey- sorry, it’s just- Ms. Boliene can be kinda a bitch about people sleeping in the library. I know a place you can rest for a while if ya want. Let’s be honest, you probably aren’t going to be learning anything if you go to the rest of your classes today.” 

Steve clenched his right hand a couple times- Eddie would file that particular coping mechanism away to ask about later- then nodded, his breathing (mostly) back to a normal pace. “Sorry about that. Yeah man, whatever you say.”

Eddie nodded, let his arms drop, then cleared his throat. “Right, just go ahead and follow me, King Steve.” 

Steve sighed and stood with a wince, gathering the garbage from his (Eddie’s) lunch before following the other boy out of the library. He tossed the trash in the garbage bin outside the library then took a couple of long strides forward to catch up to Eddie. “Can you um- maybe, like… not call me that?”  

“Sure thing, Steve-o. Here, hang a right.” Eddie turned down a hallway and Steve followed, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“That’s it?”

Eddie stopped walking when they reached the drama room door, shrugging. “Yeah man, that’s it. You don’t wanna be called something, I’m not gonna call you that. Nicknames are supposed to be fun, dude.” 

Steve nodded in understanding, but his brow was furrowed- he was clearly deep in thought. Eddie stood there a moment, waiting for Steve to say something. When it became apparent that the jock was going to keep his thoughts to himself, Eddie smiled tightly and opened the drama room door, walking past the gaggle of students sitting together and eating lunch at the front of the room. He ignored their stares and walked to the back of the room to a set of double doors, which he opened and then led Steve through. “This is where Hellfire meets. You can lay down in the corner over there on the couch cushions and blankets. I set that up last year for my mid-morning, skip-P.E. nap time.” 

Steve blinked in surprise, then turned to Eddie with a playful smirk. “Is that why you’re repeating this year? Slept through too much P.E.?”    

Eddie chuckled at that. Harrington had some sass to him, huh? “One of the many reasons. What can I say, getting sweaty for some dumbass P.E. teacher just doesn’t agree with me.” ‘There are much better things to get sweaty for’, a distant voice in Eddie’s head whispered. Eddie pushed that thought away, shaking his head at himself. Harrington was not the kind of guy to think those kinds of things around. 

Steve giggled to himself- honest to god giggled, it was quite possibly the best sound that Eddie had ever heard- then stepped into the room, taking in the variety of chairs surrounding the giant table and the various decorations on the walls. Suddenly, Steve’s playful smile disappeared, turning to a grimace. “Um, are you sure it’s okay for me to sleep here, Eds? Don’t you have Hellfire here later tonight? I wouldn’t want to intrude-” 

“Stevie, I promise it’s fine. You’ll probably be awake by the time we’re in here playing through the campaign anyways. Just don’t worry about it and get some rest, okay?” 

Steve nodded, walking to the corner and sitting down on the cushions. Eddie smiled reassuringly at him from his place at the doorway, then waved goodbye to Steve. “I’m off to English and Chem. I’ll be back in about two hours, but I could lock the doors in the meantime?” Eddie pulled a lanyard out of his pocket, grinning. “Perks of being club president. I’m the only one with a key other than the drama teacher, and he never comes in here. I just figured- maybe you would sleep better knowing that no one can get in? You would be able to get out, obviously, but- y’know what? Maybe this is creepy, pretend like I didn’t say anything-”

“-Thank you, Eddie. I… would appreciate that.” Steve cut off Eddie’s (admittedly awkward) rant and punctuated his request with a yawn, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. 

“Yeah, yeah of course dude, whatever you need.” Eddie stepped out and locked the door behind himself, then slumped his back against the door. Step One: Get Steve Harrington to Take Care of Himself, complete. Time for Step Two.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A.N.- tagging those who requested/insinuated a request, lmk if you’d like to be added/taken off the tag list.

@ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie

#stranger things #steddie #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #1984 steddie meeting au my beloved #stranger things fic #steddie fic #pre s4 #pre s4 meeting

[itsmattchou]

like sweet chocolate ice cream !

pairing: seventeen maknae line x gn!reader warnings: probably profanity i swear too much, reader is implied to be shorter than mingyu, canon typical seungkwan violence in chans section, english isn't my first language!!! genre: fluff synopsis: just cute things the boys would do in a relationship! notes: started this thing in march and finally finished like a week ago. first post kinda nervous🥴 shoutout to my beautiful gf for helping me with this!💗

hyung line version

seokmin - has thousands of petnames for you. he knows you have a name. but calling you solely by your name is too boring for him- so he just resorts to petnames. but always using the same ones isn't good enough for him either, as no single petname alone could express his love for you perfectly. so he just uses every single one and switches them up every time: honey, baby, babe, darling, love, sweetheart, sunshine, pumpkin, flower, … you get the thrill. he calls you every pretty word he knows. will get offended if you don't switch up your petnames for him from time to time too.

mingyu - rests his head on yours. no matter how tall you are, there's a good chance he's still taller than you. and he absolutely loves loves LOVES it. he does that annoying thing tall people tend to do- purposely putting stuff you need on the highest shelf so you have to ask him to get it for you (he loves feeling needed)- but his favorite thing he can do because his height allows him to is resting his head on yours whenever he gives you a random back hug. and he does it every time he hugs you. and he hugs you all the time. your head isn't for you to use, it's just "mingyus headrest" at this point.

minghao - remembers everything you tell him about. whatever you're telling him, he is always 100% paying attention. whenever you ramble about something, may it be about a show you like, about the book you've read recently or just something that happened at work- he slurps up every piece of information as if he was dying of thirst. minghao thinks of you as one of the most important parts of his life, therefore he "should treasure everything about you, even your opinion on the sweater your boss wore today" (his words, not yours). you do find it endearing, of course you do, but it's still a bit creepy when he remembers stuff you can't even recall ever talking about…

vernon - only watches shows with you. he is your typical introverted, quality time as love language, chilled kinda guy. he enjoys simply existing next to you, he doesn't even need to talk to you. your presence next to him is already enough for him to be super happy- but he also knows it can get quite boring to do only that. so he just puts a show on for you two to watch! vernon refuses to watch a single episode without you and stops the second he sees you asleep next to him and 100% expects you to do the same thing whenever he falls asleep first. he's always on the lookout for new shows for the two of you to watch and has made a list for it. he really likes to call it "your thing".

seungkwan - is your personal hypeman. this man is simply so fun and precious. he loves when you talk to him about your day, your ideas, your worries, your everything- he also likes that he's able to do the exact same thing with you. but he not only listens, he also encourages you and hypes you up. for every little thing. you wore the green sweater today? AWESOME! you want to try a new lip tint? GO AHEAD! you show him lyrics you wrote? YOU SLAYED! karaoke night? YOU'RE BEYONCÉ! he's so proud of you and can't help but be your lil cheerleader boyfriend. he still gives you the "criminal offensive side eye" from time to time tho. nobody's safe.

chan - updates you on everything. there's nothing chan loves more than spending time with you. dates, cuddling or just silently enjoying each others presence: he's down for everything, as long as it means being with you. of course he can't spend every second of his life by your side (sobbing), so whenever he's not around you he resorts to texting you. "wonwoo hyung just sneezed" "seungkwan hyung just kicked hoshis kneecaps" "seungcheol hyung just told me to put my phone down" he updates you on everything that happened, doesn't even matter how important it is. also has that goofy smile on his face his hyungs make fun of him for whenever you text

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen headcanons #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #dk x reader #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #mingyu x reader #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #vernon x reader #chwe hansol x reader #lee chan x reader #dino x reader

[bad268]

Hi 👉👈

Could I maybe request something similar to the confession piece but with a fluffy (maybe fluffy/suggestive if that's cool 👀) first kiss or a fluffy first serious/real "I love you" with our beloved frog boys (or just Grizzy, Pezzy or Droid solo, sorry Puffer 😅)?

Sober in Love (Frog Boys X Reader(Separate))

[Blank] in Love Pt 3

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous

Requested: Clearly (Kinda made it a part 2? But also not really?)

Warnings: Talk of lasik recovery (Droid's). Language (Cunt in Grizzy's)

Pronouns: They/them

W.C. 1604 (about 400 words each)

Summary: 'I love you's from the Frog Boys.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~

<-Part 2

Puffer

It was cold. San Antonio winter was never that bad, but for some unknown reason, it decided to rage harder than normal this year. I had on one of Puffer’s hoodies, sweatpants, and fuzzy socks, and I was under a thick blanket. Yet I was still freezing. I was going to have to take some drastic measures.

I would need to get out of my cocoon to find Puffer.

Thankfully, I did not have to wait long as Puffer walked out of his office and climbed into my mountain of blankets. I immediately buried my face in his chest since he was a literal heater. He just chuckled before wrapping his arms around my shoulders and rubbing my arms to generate heat while his attention turned toward the show I had playing on the TV.

My hands were still freezing, so with a smirk, I moved my hands under Puffer’s hoodie and placed them flat on his back.

“Aye, woah!” He shouted, pushing me away. “You’re hands are freezing!”

“Why do you think I put them on your back?” I asked as if it were obvious. He just looked at me in disbelief, keeping me an arm’s width away. “Please? As my boyfriend, it is your responsibility to be my personal heater and right now you're doing a shitty job.”

“Fine get over here,” he sighed, pulling me back into his chest. I chuckled as I put my hands back under his hoodie and wrapped my legs around his waist, putting almost my entire body weight on him. He shook his head with a laugh before whispering, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Awe, you love me?” I teased, looking up at him.

“Don’t make me take it back,” he threatened.

“You loving me or letting me put my cold hands up your shirt?”

“Both.”

“Well then, I was going to say I love you too, but I don’t like how you threatened me,” I joked as I slowly started to pull away.

“Oh shut up,” He pressed, pulling me straight back to his chest as he held one of my arms, so I couldn’t tear my hands out of his shirt.

“And I’m the clingy one?”

~~

Pezzy

Pezzy was streaming. It was a really random steam because he was bored. I was visiting my family since my sister just had her baby, so I was helping them out for the week. Pezzy wasn’t able to come with me, so I promised to send him loads of pictures.

“Guys, guess what,” He asked rhetorically to chat as he smiled at his phone. The chat started spamming random answers or emotes, so he flipped his phone around to show them. It was a picture I sent him of my outfit for dinner. “Look at them, chat. They’re so cute. They’ve been visiting their family, so they’ve sent me pictures every day.”

Immediately, the chat started filling with heart eyes, jokes about how I’m hot, or calling Pezzy a simp. He saw those immediately, and despite me calling him a simp all the time, he took offense to his chat picking up on it.

“Guys, I am literally not a simp. I am actually not a simp. I just love my significant other. So what?” Pezzy said fast as chat filled with more simp-related messages. He took a deep breath before shouting, “Guys, stop calling me a simp!”

I decided this would be a good time to call him since I was watching the stream on my laptop before dinner. I dialed his number and waited for him to answer as I continued to watch him frantically explain himself to chat.

“Guys, stop. Look, they’re calling me now! They’ll tell you I’m not a simp,” the stream audio came through just as Pezzy picked up the phone and greeted me.

Knowing he put me on speaker, I decided to tease him a little, “Hi my favorite simp. How’s your stream?”

“Not you too!” He shouted, taking the phone off the speaker as the chat started sending laughing emotes. “I swear, you’re watching the stream aren’t you?’

“Can’t I just call my favorite simp and tell him I love him too?” I asked innocently.

“I never said that,” He replied quickly, not believing that he confessed he loved me in front of five thousand people.

“I think chat has a clip somewhere,” I laughed.

“Chat if you can find a clip where I said I love Y/n, I’ll stream with them next week,” Pezzy said over the stream, and that’s when I noticed he hung up on me. It didn’t take long for chat to start spamming a link to the clip, causing Pezzy to sigh. “Ok, maybe I am a simp.”

~~

Droid

My eyes burned so much. One thing that no one told you about Lasik surgery was the first couple of hours after. My eyes burned so much, and I could not tell if it was from the surgery or from the lights in the kitchen. Droid promised to take care of me but completely forgot that Puffer, Pezzy, and Grizzy were coming over to film a cooking video in our new house, so that is where they were. The plan was a one-handed challenge, but it turned into a ‘make the best food for Y/n, so they don’t have to feel guilty that they’re disrupting their recovery’ stream.

“Is it pasta?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen with my eyes closed to get my antibiotics. I started patting around the counter, trying to find the bottle without opening my eyes. Droid saw my struggle, so he stopped cutting the chicken to wipe off his hands before grabbing the bottle from the cabinet. He opened it, dumped out one pill, and grabbed a glass to fill it with water before handing it to me. “Thank you.”

“No problem, and yes. Chicken Alfredo,” He answered, taking the glass and putting it in the sink once I finished it. “We’re actually almost done, so I’ll bring it over to the table.”

I groaned as I leaned forward where I thought Droid was. Apparently, he was not there, but he jumped back in front of me just in time for me to collide with his chest. “Do I have to do a taste test for the stream?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he whispered, walking backward to get us out of frame.

“They’ll be mad at me,” I whined, starting to tear up before trying to calm down and not irritate my eyes more than they already are.

“They’ll understand,” He reassured. “You just had surgery today, and you are not 100 percent, so they won’t be upset if you don’t feel up to a full review.”

“I don’t deserve you,” I cried, leaning further into his chest. “I love you. Thank you for putting up with me.”

“I love you too,” He laughed. “You’ve dealt with me through crazier shit! This is nothing!”

~~

Grizzy

“What time did you guys get to the airport?” Fitz asked after we got to the Misfits’ house in Melbourne. We had to fly into Melbourne because we were attending PAX AUS, and knew it would be fun to come a couple of days earlier to hang out with our friends. However, the universe had different plans.

“4 AM Pacific,” Grizzy groaned, collapsing on the couch and pulling me down after we dropped our bags off in one of the rooms. “We had an overnight layover in LA, but the original flight was delayed. We just slept at the airport 'cause it was only like two hours before we would’ve needed to be back at the airport.”

“Those chairs were not comfy,” I complained as I curled up on Grizzy’s lap. I yawned as I leaned into Grizzy’s neck, attempting to hide my drowsiness from the guys. “I couldn’t sleep at all.”

“It’s a good thing we don’t have anything till tomorrow,” Swagger laughed as he walked in from the back patio. “You can chill out 'cause I bet the time difference didn’t help either.”

“No, it does not, and to make it worse, there was hella turbulence on the way over,” Grizzy added as he offhandedly ran his fingers through my hair. “We couldn’t sleep at the airport, couldn’t sleep on the plane, and now it’s technically four hours earlier than what we’re used to. This is shit.”

At some point during his rant, I gave in to the temptation of sleep. No one noticed until Toby came into the room.

“Why are you cunts talking so loud?” She asked. “Y/n is literally asleep.” With that, the room’s attention flipped to me. No one said anything for a couple of seconds, unsure of what to say until Grizzy started to stand up with me in his arms.

“I’ll take them to our room. It’s probably a good idea for us to get some sleep,” Grizzy whispered. “Dinner tonight, yeah?” The guys just nodded, so Grizzy took that and left the room.

When he walked into the room, he immediately set me on the bed, so he could set an alarm for later in the afternoon and changed both of us into comfier clothes. Just before he climbed into bed with me, I woke up slightly, not really recognizing where we were.

“We’re in our room. The guys said we’ll go to dinner later, but we can sleep for now,” Grizzy explained in a soft tone.

“Okay, I love you, Grizzy,” I whispered back and fell back asleep.

“I love you too.”

~~~

Part 4 ->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

#bigpuffer x reader #pezzy x reader #elasticdroid x reader #grizzy x reader #big puffer x reader #elastic droid x reader #pezzy #grizzy #big puffer #bigpuffer #elastic droid #elasticdroid #bad268 #ship268 #thing268 #bad268 [blank] in love

[paperclipped-mongoose]

Convincing Enough For You?

Pairing: Angus Macgyver x F! Reader

Summary: An important mission came up, and during the briefing it became clear that Mac didn't think you were the right fit for the flirtatious role.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Use of Y/N (not excessive), First Person, Fight Flirting, Arguing, A malfunctioning MacGyver, A villain who likes to take advantage of women, Couple Arguments. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hey Guys! This my first MacGyver Fanfiction, I love writing the series and characters so let me know if you guys like it! Comments and messages mean the world to me! If you've got any ideas for future fic's my idea box is open! ENJOY!

“I’m not sure if this is the best idea, Matty. You know how they feel about each other.” Riley trailed after her boss as they made their way down the hall to the war room. She had been let in on the game plan for the next mission early because Matty needed her input.

“They’re adults. They can put their feelings, undefined they are, away in order to do their job professionally.” Matty could hope. Ever since you joined the Phoenix Foundation there had been a certain animosity between you and a certain human encyclopedia. You were never sure if it was flirting or trying to get on each other’s nerves. 

Matty could hear the sounds of shouting from the war room down the hall. “Oh, get your head out of the clouds! You know all too well that if it wasn’t for Bozer and Jack you would have blown yourself up, gotten shot, or made some kinda poisonous gas to kill yourself. You think you’re way more aware than you are. But newsflash: you’re not!” You paused to take a breath, you had made sure to choose your words carefully, they were nothing if not the truth. Mac could make a plane out of a recycling bin and some potatoes, but he routinely got his ass saved by Jack in the field, and Bozer in his own home. 

Mac stood in front of the coffee table, his arms crossed tight across his chest. “At least I actually do things to save our asses on missions. Or were you the one who made infrared glasses so we could see the cameras when Riley couldn’t access the system?”

Something about Mac’s defensiveness made you want to egg him on continually. Maybe it was because you liked to hear him talk, even when it wasn’t in a positive way. There were days where the two of you were civil and even friendly, but those days were boring. No conversations would be had, and the day inevitably turned into awkward silence and stares. 

Neither you nor Mac liked it that way. 

So you picked on each other. It was clear there were never any ill intentions, but sometimes it rode the line and, you were sure, made your coworkers wonder if you and Mac were actually mad. To be fair, it was a question that rarely had a simple answer. But that was just the way the two of you were. Complicated. And you wouldn’t have taken it any other way. 

“Can we go one meeting without you two saying something distasteful to each other? One meeting. That’s all I’m asking.” Matty pulled up her screen on the wall before shooting a pointed look at those who stood around the room. Jack observed the screens as they came up, and Riley sat on one of the chairs doing her best to ignore you and Mac, knowing how this would go, and something told her Matty wouldn’t get her wish for peace.

“This is Bryan Snyder.” A rather unpleasant-looking man was pulled up on the full screen along with his Phoenix records. “Hacker extraordinaire with a rap sheet a mile long of gambling offenses.” Matty flashed a couple photos across the screen of Bryan surrounded by presumable winnings and women. 

Riley finally took a cue from Matty and spoke up. "He's had incidents filed with multiple casinos, all stemming from his pension for picking up women who've just fought with their partners, while the partner is around."

Jack scoffed as he found his way to the empty seat next to Riley. “Sounds like he's made a game out of picking up girls on the rebound."

Jack’s comment earned a grin from Riley, who added: "At least he looks like he tips well."

Your leg bounced involuntarily as you fiddled with the few paperclips in your hand—not bending them, just linking them together one after the other to make a chain. It drove Mac mad, and you knew it. He was one who did things with purpose, so idly fiddling with some paperclips without reshaping or bending them clawed at him internally. “So what is our position in this?” you finally spoke up. “I didn’t know the Phoenix Foundation did personal vendetta work for ex-girlfriends.” 

Matty shook her head watching Mac who silently but unsubtly stared you down as you wrapped the paperclip chain around your wrist to make a bracelet. “Not a vendetta. A prevention service for the Parisian government. Snyder holds a virus on his laptop that, if released onto the broadband servers of France, would cause nationwide blackouts and hold millions of people’s information hostage.”

Jack’s face soured at the thought. “Oooh, okay, yeah, so not an angry ex-girlfriend. Got it.”

“We’ve had Riley coding a USB drive that, once plugged in, can give her access to the computer’s system. That way she can corrupt the virus so that when he tries to open it, none of the code will be salvageable. The only thing our team needs to worry about is getting that drive plugged into Snyder’s computer for 8 minutes without him noticing.” 

Another scoff came from Jack. “No offense, Matty, but this guy seems like the kinda nerd to be obsessed with his computer. He’s probably one of those weirdos who treats it like his baby or something.” He immediately turned to Riley who had her computer in her lap. He pressed his lips together and stood up, walking towards the other wall to get as far away from Riley as possible. “I’m just gonna shut up now.”

“Yeah, smart choice.”

“The plan, if you guys will ever let me get to it, is this: Is to send in (Y/N) with a partner to pose as our unhappy couple, Bryan has a stay booked with a casino in Monaco this weekend. It’s his last stop on the way into France. A messy breakup in the middle of the casino should be enough to pique Snyder’s interest, and from there all (Y/N) has to do is get him to take her to his hotel room so she can connect the USB to his laptop, which shouldn’t be so hard given his M.O. After 8 minutes, once Riley’s USB has done its job, (Y/N) will take it out and destroy it so it’s not traceable.” Matty pressed her lips together firmly when she noticed Mac shifting his stance and uncrossing his arms, which normally meant that he had something to say. “Can I help you Blondie?”

Mac took the opportunity and stepped forward. “Why don’t we just send in Riley? If the USB doesn’t work, she’ll be able to disable the virus manually. Plus,” a strong look of disdain settled on his face, “I don’t think (Y/N) can flirt convincingly enough to get him to take her back to his room. It’s dangerous to put the weight of a mission on it without a backup.” 

That got you mad. You stood and eyed Mac in his stupid power stance. His hands on his hips while he stared at the screen as if he was avoiding eye contact with you. You wondered where all of his confidence had suddenly gone.

“Oh? You don’t think I can handle it?” You took a confident couple steps towards Mac. A well-placed hand on his forearm brought his big blue eyes back to you, somewhat confused as to what you were doing but it didn’t seem as if he was going to stop you. 

You took his silence as permission to continue and slid your hand down his arm, bringing your free hand up to play with the suede lapel of his jacket near his chest. You lifted your eyes to meet his for a single, shy moment and couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed. Who thought it was a good idea to give a man with such a perfect face those baby blues? Fuck.

Mac was malfunctioning, his jaw slack as he tried to focus on anything other than how close you were to him. Or the fact he could feel your breath on his neck, or the way your hands held him. Tantalizing and unobtainable. He was sure if either of you did anything in the oncoming moments he’d find himself too deep to back out. 

You slid the fingers fiddling with his jacket past his chest to his abdomen, felt the shiver run up his spine even though he tried his best to hide it. Your fingers reached his beltline with more confidence than you felt, and…there was a undeniable tension. One that left you wondering if perhaps you should excuse yourself and drag Mac into some unoccupied office down the hall. 

A quick smack below the belt and Mac was half-keeled over, gasping for air as you stepped aside with a prideful smirk. “That convincing enough for you?” 

The rest of the team broke into laughter, the sexual and uncalled for tension that was in the room had gone.

“The Macbook needed to reboot there for a moment huh,” Jack said patting your shoulder. “You’ll do just fine, and your mission partner will be there as your backup, you can trust them 

Matty just pulled on that subtle smirk she wore when she knew something was bound to be entertaining. “Well, glad you’re working on your chemistry, because Mac is your mission partner. Try not to cause a scene before the target gets there, though. Wheels up in 2 hours.”

Mac had finally been able to gather himself and recover from the unexpected tap. “Let’s just hope you’re ready for 2 to be playing that game.”

A/N: Thank You guys for reading! I am thinking about making another part about the actual mission or what the aftermath would look like for your and Mac's relationship.

A/N: Remember I'm always open to talk to people (18+) about MacGyver! I love the fandom and want to interact as much as possible. If your interested don't be afraid to shoot me a message!

#macgyver 2016 #macgyver #angus macgyver #fearless macgyvers version #lucas till #jack dalton #macgyver fanfiction #macgyver x reader #angus macgyver x reader #macgyver reboot #Fanfiction #I love this man #he is kenough #getting hit in the nuts hurts #Macgyver fanfictions

[orions-athenaeumficlibrary]

When You're Smiling- Prologue

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x F!reader

Synopsis: Throughout your life you have been labeled "boring" because of your quiet, thoughtful nature. For example, you weren't a fan of parties, frats or really anything that required you to be around big groups of people. But after being dragged to a party, you meet someone who seems determined to prove that you have an adventurous side as well.

Chapter Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, drinking, sexual harassment

Word Count: 1.5k

Prologue

“Please Y/n. You don’t even have to stay for that long.” Sitting on the floor of your apartment, you continued to track your eyes over the pages of your textbook. You weren’t really retaining any information, you hadn’t been since your roommate Wanda barged in five minutes ago and began pestering you to go to a frat party with her. 

“Seriously, a night out would be good for you. You don’t even have to talk to anyone, but at least leave this apartment. Honestly, it’s getting kinda sad that you just sit here with your books every night-” 

“OK.” You cut off her somewhat offensive rambling by roughly slamming your psychology textbook shut. “If you are so concerned about my social life I will, for forty five minutes, go to this party.” Wanda squealed and threw her arms around you. 

“Thank you, I promise once you get there you’ll have so much fun!” Your face remained neutral but inside your stomach was beginning to twist itself into a tight knot. There was a reason you didn’t really like parties, of course you wouldn’t judge your friends for going to as many as they could, they just weren't your scene. “-oh, I’m gonna call Nat, she can bring over some tops for you to try, let me grab my phone, I’ll be right back.” You didn’t realize you had zoned out long enough for Wanda to bring your other friend Natasha into the equation. When Wanda left the room you tried to distract yourself from spiraling by watching the rain dance against the window. This is “cozy romance novel reading” weather, not “get wasted with a bunch of randos” weather, you thought to yourself, but then instantly shook your head and brushed your glasses up to rub your eyes. Maybe you were in desperate need of a party. Or not. Because frat parties were the worst. The last one you were at was three years ago during your freshman year: you went in excited to try something new, and ended the night drenched in someone else’s beer, with tears running down your cheeks and mascara staining your face. You didn’t know who spilled beer on you, but the tears and mascara combination was courtesy of having to watch the guy you liked make out with not one, but three girls that night. To top it all off, one of your heels had snapped, forcing you to walk home in 30 degree weather with no shoes. So you weren’t a fan of frat parties, and maybe you shouldn’t base your judgements on one awful experience, but you had never been party type before and that night seemed like a sign from the universe confirming, “you and parties do NOT mix.” 

Wanda’s hurried footsteps interrupted the mental storm that had been picking up speed over the time she was absent. 

“Ok, Nat is on her way, and she’s bringing options for shirts, and I have this new pair of heels that would look so-” 

“No. No heels, sorry Wan.” You said somewhat sheepishly. You hadn’t known Wanda yet when you went through the frat debacle a couple years ago and for some reason you had elected to withhold that story from your two closest friends. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t brought it up, maybe you figured they would stop trying to force you to party every weekend, or maybe they would insist you give it another try. The latter is what you were afraid of, and knowing Nat and Wanda, the former was not likely to happen. 

Wanda gave you a curious look, but if she thought something was off she didn’t say anything. Instead, she ran to the door as a buzz sounded on the intercom. 

_________________________________________

An hour later, you were dressed in a long sleeved open back top, baggy jeans, and a pair of well loved (extremely dirty) shoes. Wanda and Nat practically dragged you out of your apartment and down the street, laughing and talking animatedly all while you stayed quiet and counted the yellow taxis that rushed past you.

When the three of you finally made it to the party, an inky darkness had settled over the city. The grass beneath your feet was still damp from that afternoon’s rain and you couldn’t help but frown at how humid it had become, dreading how suffocating it was going to be inside the house. 

“Do you wanna grab something to drink?” Nat yelled over the bass as you tried to squeeze through the crowded entryway. You were immediately overwhelmed, strobe lights were flashing against the walls, music was shaking the floor and hot, sweaty bodies kept bumping up against you. You closed your eyes in an attempt to somehow center yourself. After a few seconds of futilely waiting for a moment of peace, you let your eyelids flutter open and to your annoyance, Nat and Wanda were no longer standing beside you. You knew it wasn’t their fault, and that they would never intentionally leave you alone, but you couldn’t stop the panic that began rising in your chest from the absence of your two friends. Not knowing what else to do, you shouldered your way through the mass of drunk college students, searching for a quiet place to stand and look for Nat and Wanda. You had scouted out a small, unoccupied alcove under the stairs and made your way to it. Two steps and you would have gotten some reprieve from the chaos, but instead a tall body blocked your path and sharp brown eyes eyed you up and down. 

“Haven’t seen you at one of these yet.” His voice was slightly slurred and the mix of alcohol and cheap cologne pouring off of him was almost nauseating. “You lookin’ for someone to spend a little time with?” He asked inching closer and forcing you to press your back against the railing of the staircase. Now your breath was coming much too quick and the familiar numbness sprouting in your fingertips told you that you were on the verge of having a panic attack. You’d been through enough over the past years to recognize when one was coming. You also knew that if you could’t find a calm place to ground yourself in the next few minutes you were going to break down. With your mind in panic mode, you glanced over your shoulder and saw that the staircase you were pinned against led to a seemingly quiet hall. Deciding that was your only option, you shoved the guy’s chest and used his sluggish, drunken state as an opportunity to escape his grasp and head towards the stairs. You jumped over the “Stay Downstairs or Thor Will Kick Your Ass” sign that was haphazardly strung across the bottom entryway and took the stairs two at a time to get to the hall. There were no lights on in the corridor, but the strobes from the party downstairs provided you with enough light to find a doorknob. You desperately pushed on the door, but it was locked, so you ran to the next one, only to find yourself in the same situation. You didn’t notice the faint glow under the third door you tried and you almost cried in relief when the knob turned without any resistance.

You hurried into the room and closed the door, pressing your back against the cool wood and shutting your eyes. Starting at 100, you took a deep breath and exhaled counting backwards by three in your head. In your anxious state, you barely noticed the tears that were rushing down your cheeks. And you really had not noticed that you weren’t alone in this room. 

“Uh, is everything- are you ok?” A baritone voice caused your eyes to shoot open as you desperately tried to figure out its source through your blurred vision. Bringing your hands to your eyes you began to furiously wipe away the tears, ignoring the slight burning caused by the friction from your shirt against your skin. 

“Hey, whoah, hold on, you're gonna hurt yourself.” The voice said again, this time with more urgency. Suddenly, a pair of warm hands wrapped carefully around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. You were able to blink back enough tears to make out a head of blonde hair, broad shoulders, and kind blue eyes. The man in front of you continued to coax you down from your panic, and slowly the tears stopped falling while your breaths evened out. As embarrassed as you were that this kind man had to witness your anxiety attack you were grateful for his help. But just as you began to offer your thanks the door was thrown open, and a deep voice shouted over the blaring music downstairs. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing locked away in your-” his words trailed off as his cerulean blue eyes landed on your tear stained face…

Chapter One coming this week!

tags~

@vicmc624 / @sjsmith56

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #college! bucky #college bucky barnes x reader #college!bucky au #bucky barnes fluff #college! bucky barnes #marvel college au #avengers college au #platonic! steve rogers #platonic!steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes friends to lovers #new series #new marvel au #new bucky au #bucky barnes x college! reader #bucky barnes x shy!reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader college au

[suzukiblu]

Hi! I love too much of your writing to pick one myself, so can I ask for either transfemme Kon with amazon soulmates or trans Clark but not trans Kon for wip Wednesday?

transfemme Kon and her Amazon soulmoms:

He hears wind whipping through a cape and a thrumming, inhuman heartbeat, and a moment later Kal lands lightly on the street in front of him, frowning in faint concern. Which makes sense, since Kon is currently hanging out with a supervillain and his two favorite lackeys. That is definitely something Kal should find concerning. Kon sure as shit finds it concerning. 

“Everything okay down here, Superboy?” Kal asks, his eyes briefly flicking towards Luthor. Kon only wishes Luthor were the problem here. 

“I can’t answer that question without confusing myself,” he mutters with a grimace, hunching his shoulders. 

“What?” Kal says with a deeper frown. 

“Is your presence really necessary here, don't you have an intrepid reporter to compromise the marital vows of?” Luthor asks, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Please shut the fuck up,” Kon says, gritting his teeth. Fuck, like Kal would ever fuck with Lois Lane’s marriage, she’s his friend. Kon has no idea why she picked Clark Kent over Superman, mind, but if she has a thing for slightly incompetent farmboy reporters with shitty posture, that’s her prerogative or whatever. 

He guesses the guy is kinda cute, if you squint. And if, like, you’re a fan of especially hapless and nerdy puppies. 

Kon cannot imagine what their sex life must be like, though.

the one where Clark is trans and Kon is not:

“Fucking prick,” Kon snaps, and Match looks unimpressed. She wonders if Match cares about being insulted like that–like, gendered insults or whatever. She wonders if Match is her . . . not-actual-sister. If Match is just as much of a girl as she is. 

As Kal isn’t. 

She wishes she knew, though it’s not like it matters. Even if Match were a girl, she’d–he’d, they’d, not it’d–still be an asshole. Still be standing here in front of her calling her “difficult” because she isn’t going to let the Agenda chop her up for parts or unzip her DNA again or . . . whatever other fucked-up thing they wanna do with the dead body everyone would still be calling “Superboy”. 

Kon can’t let herself die if she’s gonna be getting buried as Superboy. That’s just–not a thing that she can do. 

It’s going to happen one day, she knows, but she’s not just gonna lay down and take it. 

“Just give it up, Superboy,” Match says with a bored, disdainful expression, posture shifting into aggressive readiness; into a stance that could go from neutral to offensive in about two seconds flat. She’s seen it happen. She’s done it. 

They’ve got the same body, after all, whether it’s right or wrong on both of them or not. 

“Over your dead body,” Kon snarls, and then she thinks of the cell walls she slashed into with her TTK and throws herself at Match with her fists wrapped in invisible sharp edges like telekinetic brass knuckles. She needs to do damage, make Match think twice and fall back, and do it quick. 

Though it’s admittedly not very smart to use a trick that Match could probably figure out how to copy, but when is she ever smart anyway? When has she ever been, even once?

#anonymous #wip: amazon kon #wip: trans clark and cis kon #long post

[trolagygirl2022]

Synastry with a girl I dislike

Been a while since I made these type of posts, why not try studying more synastry with my real life experiences?

Her Mars conjunct my ascendant

My 8th house stellium makes me a fan of staying alone and being more reserved meanwhile she would be quite rowdy and loud. She would be quite touchy and it really got on my nerves man. I'm not the type of person that likes physical touch unless it's with specific people but even that it can be subjective (I barely hug my friends which shows how reserved I am). I always thought of her as reckless and too much for me.

My Saturn Square her Venus

My views on love and hers were very different. I'm more traditional and quite old school meanwhile she goes around and leads guys on (I'm trying to write this in the least offensive way possible but I really despised how she was acting). I thought she was being "immodest" and I did not like that. She openly admitted to doing all these things and I secretly really resented her for it.

Her Sun opposite my Mercury

This girl was quite reckless, on top of her behavior she would do dr*gs, vape and have unprotected sex and just act quite immaturely in general. That pissed me off, as I'm someone who can be quite serious. She even called me boring (atleast I don't do drugs!!). That really was against my views and beliefs and being with her made me feel like I was "too serious" and childish (which is crazy because I'm older then her).

Her Mercury opposite my Mercury

Again we were quite different in our views and I though it was easy for us to talk I coulnd't help but feel a sense of "awkwardness" talking to her attimes. Like we didn't get each other. I would even find her quite loud and annoying (her mercury is in leo soooo)

My Saturn opposite her Uranus

Did I say I was quite the traditional type? Yeah attimes I would feel like I'm a mum watching my daughter go through a rebillious phase. She would say how I'm quite boring and the sort.

Mars Opposite Mars

Ok Ok confession time, we kinda were fighting over a guy. Before yall point fingers let me explain! So I had a crush on this guy and he went to her school right? We would only really meet on the bus and he would do things that made me believe he had a crush on me (since I would be a bit obvious attimes). Whether he liked me or not idk but the mf kinda lead me on (pretty happy it happened since it opened my eyes of what a trashy person he is). THEN the girl went and started getting all close and cuddly with him a DAY later, like tf?? (Not to mention that she was leading two other guys on JUST THAT DAY, TWO!!). Anyways she would piss me off quite a lot and sometimes I would feel some competitiveness with her.

My Mercury opposite her Jupiter

It was logic vs intuition right here ahaha. I tend to be quite logical and reasonable meanwhile she was all over the place and it got on my nerves. Sometimes I would wish she'd stop the antics and actually think for a second.

Anyways I think I'll leave it at there, thank you for your time :)

#astro notes #astro community #astro placements #astrology #synastry #astrology birth chart #enemy synastry #dislike synastry #mercury synastry #mars synastry #venus synastry #saturn synastry #sun synastry

[anchanted-one]

Koth Vortena Theories

I think it's well-known by now that I'm a massive Lana Beniko fan. But one character I don't talk much about as much, though I like him a lot as well, is Koth Vortena, arguably one of the biggest missed opportunities of SWTOR.

This is going to be a big post about Koth Vortena, unsung hero of Zakuul.

Apologies for the bad drawing.

So here's what little we know about Koth.

He's against harming civilians. To the point he'll walk away from leaders he finds too cruel and/or tyrannical. Sort of resolved in the game. His loyalty increases over time if you're Light, and evaporates if Dark.

Like most Zakuulans not in the know, he is a devotee of Valkorion. This is never resolved.

He has a conflict with Senya that goes nowhere. She cryptically tells you to keep an eye on him, as he has already betrayed one master. But this warning is only relevant in the most obvious way (see point 1). A Lightsider wouldn't have to worry at all. Not to mention, Senya is also a defector. So we don't know where her venom comes from. Her accusation that Koth abandoned his post flies in the face of her later statement that the Knights of Zakuul should've rebelled once Arcann slaughtered the Scions (who are way more legitimate targets than the civilians of Denon)

He is still loyal to Zakuul itself. If you are Lightsided (i.e. he stays with you past KOTFE) he is the only one who advocates for Zakuul. Even Arcann and Senya don't.

All of these paint a rather incomplete story.

I know KOTFEET got more rushed as time went on, but Koth's story is the one that stands as the most obviously abandoned.

The biggest nonresolution is his devotion to Valky. And by extension, the Eternal Empire's adherence to Valkorionism. The citizens of Zakuul still believe in Valk by the end of KOTET, and we have no reason to believe that they're any closer to figuring out the truth.

I recall that in cut content, there was a discarded accusation from Senya about his ambitions. We also know that KOTFEET was supposed to be a three-parter, with Arcann being the big bad for KOTFE, Vaylin for KOTET, and Valk for Part III (KOTIE? KOT Immortal Emperor?).

One theory I had was that Koth might have become a new host for Valkorion at the end of KOTET. Willingly or otherwise, perhaps depending on player choices. And that perhaps his eyes would be opened at the end of III, which would end in an Echoes of Oblivion-esque way.

The second theory is related to another piece of cut dialogue, this one from Vaylin. She tells Arcann "Thexan isn't our only sibling," or something similar. Now, the obvious implication is that the Player Character is this mysterious missing sibling, but after a quick look at this reddit post's summary, I had a different theory. A very tinfoily theory.

(Quick summary: this post compares the Imperial family to the Zakuulan pantheon. Valk is Izax, Senya is Scyva, Arcann is Esne, Vaylin is Tyth, and Thexan is Aivela. Which leaves Nahut, the god of apathy or the hated son)

Maybe that other sibling--or half-sibling, per my tinfoil hat theory--was Koth Vortena. I don't know if it was confirmed that it was the Outlander for sure, but this kinda clashes with the roleplaying aspect of the game. And the species. Our player character is definitely not a hybrid.

Maybe at some point, Valkorion had another mistress who bore him another son, but who got exiled with him for some unknown offense. Possibly, before the twins were born, as Koth appears to be a bit older than Arcann.

Reasons why I was thinking about this now.

He is the only other major Zakuulan we frequently interact with. While it still makes sense that he's an ordinary guy, it could've also meant that he was going to play a significant role in the future of Zakuul.

Senya's dislike of Koth would be a little more understandable if she always saw him as a threat to her own children's legitimacy, and couldn't let go of it even after all this time. It also goes with her accusation about his ambition. Koth might not know about his parentage, as his in-game reason for hating Senya totally makes sense. She was Arcann's loyal Knight who hunted him and his crew, and nearly killed them on at least a few occasions. But then, he might just as easily resent her for believing that she was the reason why his mother was cast aside, even if she had nothing to do with it.

Again, his unflinching loyalty to Zakuul no matter its inner darkness. His continued mission to keep it safe, even after KOTFEET. He is an excellent candidate for the new leader (emperor/king) of Zakuul, had it not been instead given to... who's that other guy? Doesn't matter.

This theory actually goes well with the 'Maybe Koth was meant to be Valkorion's new vessel' angle.

Combining both theories, here's what Koth's originally intended story might have been like, but got cut because it was seen as racist.

Despite the obvious problems in this story, I feel like this would've had a more complete arc for Koth, and allowed him to have a story of his own that wasn't relegated to the background.

Koth would become a contender for the Eternal Throne after proving his lineage.

He helps the Alliance overthrow Arcann and Vaylin, but perhaps in a more prominent leadership role. Zakuulans disaffected with Arcann would flock to his banner.

He is approached by Valkorion, who manages to escape the Outlander's body.

Koth accepts--perhaps reluctantly--to serve as his vessel. He is still loyal, after all. Perhaps he might request Valkorion not to destroy an Outlander he's grown fond of (and Lana.)

Inside Valkorion's psyche, he gets horrified, finally seeing the man for what he really is. The revitalized Immortal Emperor may be openly harsh and cruel, even to the people of Zakuul, which might be the reason why they also lose their faith in him. Or the Alliance could find proof revealing his true nature.

Inside his own head, Koth helps the Alliance (who at this time might include OL, Lana, Theron, Scourge, Kira, Satele, Marr, Revan, the Exile, the Tiralls, and maybe even others like Dramath) fight and slay Tenebrae/Vitiate/Valkorion. He might survive, or not. If he does, he's the new Emperor of Zakuul, but with only a small portion its once endless fleet. (Perhaps the Alliance was forced to sacrifice the Gravestone to bring it to this state. But there are enough ships left that the Pub and Imp decide not to tangle with them)

I would like you guys' opinions on this!

#star wars #swtor #star wars the old republic #the old republic #koth vortena #theories #fan theories #fanart #my art #human art

[kosmicdream]

im confident enough to post FFAK, which has anal prolapse, but i dont post the true drama....... my opinions about manga. *dramatic music* sometimes i kinda want to do some reviews.. its mostly me complaining.. it makes me sound so bitter like "do you like anything kosmic!" and..yes ! i do!!! okay!! i like a lot of things. once in a while, i dip my toes into a popular series to try to see if we are a good fit. Series like: Beastars, Dorohedoro, Dungeon meshi,ect.. and i kind. well. I dont like any of them LMAO. I mean, Ok, i actually really was into Beastars for a time, but after the fight with the bear guy (its been a few years sorry) and that story arc concluded.. it just spiraled to laughable levels and did not recover. I was genuinely laughing at it at times bc it kind of felt like a desperate scramble with the like. loopholes and power upgrades.. But I was invested for a time, it had a charm to me! I also loved the art and im curious about the authors next series about santa (partly because i too, am writing a story about santa). Dorohedoro has a great visual style, fun characters, i enjoyed reading but it also kinda didnt ...land for me beyond that, which is a shame. I feel like it is a series that "should" have clicked with me. And its like, not offensive to me but.. I'll forget that ive read the whole thing. I like STUFF in it. but thats not enough for me anymore. If i had read it when i was younger tho, it might have been a diff story. idk. My most unpopular opinion of all is that... I hated Dungeon Meshi.. Sure its ..pretty! cute designs. but i found it SO painfully boring and it actually was a struggle to finish. in the end, it felt like a waste of time.. SHOCKING take i know. That is the darling of everyones heart and i like, understand WHY its popular. .. but for me, i was not fed by anything. i am unfed and starved and going to eat elsewhere oh, and i.. as a person who has read a lot of fighting mangas.. I have tried to read chainsaw man, but i dont know if I can. I did finish Fire Punch. I'm surprised to say: i kinda liked it but it took a long time to force myself to read thru it. I honestly hated many aspects of Fujimoto's storytelling/character acting that i didn't think my opinion on it would change, but I'm a little more open to it now. I dont think i could ever super be into it or whatever, but i did find genuine enjoyment in aspects of fire punch. I did not really like look back. I haven't read his other one shot(s)? Where am i going with all this..I guess im giving some unrequested reviews after all...oops... a lot of this is spurred by how houseki no kuni is one of my most fav series, not only visually/characters/story/ect.. but i cant lie.... the ending... was kind of a flop for me... gorgeous and poetic ig sure but.. AUGH! it isnt what i wanted. maybe it'll be one of those "it'll grow on me" endings but thats mostly me having to go thru the 5 stages of personal grief and gaslight myself into it, but as the like actual honest first-reaction feeling it kinda lost me. I think it did not work when i felt the confrontation btwn phos/cinnabar wasn't the one i wanted to see. i will say tho, while im dissapointed, its not like a DEEP one or anything. I know its a miracle to even get to an ending.. i guess my take away feeling from it was like "everything fit together too well, too planned" but didnt feel planned, emotionally. I wasn't sold on it. Anyway, im here to speak my truth and my hot takes which, i honestly dont even want to have that one about HnK but its the real feeling i have for it.. Once again Utena's ending just has made all these other issues i have with various stories more obvious LOL

#the series i hate MOST is one piece #those who know me in my life #know this truth about me #i loathe that thing!!!!!! #i am a hater and i dont wish to be changed #oda does good color spreads tho

[crushthecore]

MINOR BTW

Hey so I impulsively decided to make this blog for the purpose of making friends and uhh idk where to start do I just put my interests out there and people pop out of nowhere,^^`π¢√|ππ`°€°€ Anyways soo at the time it's 2am, so bare with me, sorry if some things are grammatically wrong or/and don't make sense, I know all of this has a bunch of errors. Kinda rushed through this all..:D 

Uhh

Here's an interest board🙏 this contains like the music I like, movies, and stuff,,,tbh I have some shit in here that I haven't watched cuz of my lazy ass but I really want to, does it count😞 i am interested in it

If I'm being honest some of these aren't really my current interests, or I'm just rusty in my knowledge abt em, but I haven't been interested in some things for awhile so it would be boring if I had only a few things in there soo (I barely do anything with my life but sleep. I don't even watch shows anymore, ikik boring I'm trying to convince my mom to buy me the CSM manga at the moment though. I'll have something to yap abt, maybe.🙏🙏) 

EDIT: looking back at this I forgot to include some other stuff that I'm also interested in but I forgot abt it at the time of making this... anywho I'll make an updated interest post or something if I'm motivated enough 2 do it

!! Some extra stuff that may be useful to know, to you knowww know what you're getting into. 🤔:3

Ahem ahem, I have social anxiety which means I most likely won't text you first unless I really really force myself too or/and I really like you and think you are very cool. So if u wanna be friends with me, using the anon question option thingy would be a nice first step. :D

I get attached extremely fast uhhh🤔🤔yea, oh and I'm extremely clingy so if someone texting you every 30 minutes (or minute, jkjk) sounds like a no go, than I'm not a good fit to be your friend.^_^  BUT. I also have my times where I feel like talking to no one so uhhhsidnjddj. I have no life so that's what probably contributes to me being attached to someone, maybe, probably...😇 (dumbass)

MY TIME ZONE: PDT (Pacific Daylight Time)

BEWAREE⚠️I sometimes joke around meanly so let me know if that ain't your thing, also I SOMETIMES get a little tooooo sentimental so I should probably stop playing around like that but I'll let you know if you passed a limit. Also I don't think I joke around very mean, but just to be safe. Please don't let this be a turn off. 🙏 Some examples of the jokes I may make are like "kys" and uhm yea. My minds kinda blank right now I'm getting a little tired, but my jokes consist of suicide, bombing places I don't like(school) and some other ones.So idk if it's heavilyyy offensive humor but some people don't take a liking to it so I thgouht it would be imporant to add

I feel like writing down a whole DNI list is gonna be uhh time consuming, will it take a long timr??? Some that I can name on the top of my head rn are proshippers, homophobes, and transphobes. But anyways I'll just block you if you're weird weird (in a bad way) so like age regrresors, (SFW) furries, witches, emos, oher co ol people i hsve forggteten, PLEAESRETEGD let me be ur friend 😞

I'm 14 btw,, the age range I'm aiming to become friends with is 13-16

Idk if I'd be down to be friends with people younger than 13 or older than 16, we'll see. 🤷🤷 But 13-16 people PLEASEEe INTERACT.

I'm not even kidding I'm so desperate for social interaction blehdhdhhd, I hate being an introverted socially anxious loser🤬🤬/hj :3 but please guys🙏🙏 I will worship the ground you walk on I need some friends

ONE. LASTM THING. When I talk to someone new I usually talk, uhh, formally??? Kind of, I get anxious talking to others so I'm so sorry if I seem uptight💔 I swear I'll warm up after some time, the more consistent the interactions, the faster I get used to you and warm up^^

I feel like I'm forgetting to write something else uhh, I'll update if anything important comes to my mind later, maybe (sorry for the messy formatting btw I lost all my progress when I was trying to make it pretty so I just gave up)

Well this is going to be embarrassing if this doesn't have any results errmmfjfjfjjffi I had been contemplating on doing this for awhile, praying to God at least one person reaches out 🙏🙏

 I don't even believe in that mf ☹️ 

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLE /ref

#tim wright #rory in early 20s #marble hornets #breakcore #bungou stray dogs #alternative #emh #emh habit #emh evan #ranfren #creepypasta #slenderverse #2000s emo #2000s movies #morel orel #lemon demon #vocaloid #hatsune miku #vocaloid gumi #hannibal #tally hall #sobnignrollingaroundonthefloor #machine girl #saw franchise #scream franchise #billy and stu #im kind of a loser beware‼️

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

in celebration of the finale: my top 3 moments from each only friends character so far

we did top and mew, next: BOSTON

*top moments here means moments that had me screaming and pointing at my laptop like the leo meme*

5. bitchmode activated

obsessed with this moment. like hes watching his kinda mentally fucked up friend get more mentally fucked up and decides NOW is the time to call him a burden. iconic, the perfect way to hurt rays feelings in this moment too. and the way hes smiling while hes plotting it... so iconic this moment happened in episode 1 part 1 but has stuck with me ever since

4. *bitchy shrug*

again, just iconic. this whole scene actually, but this moment was just incredible. the journey boston takes after ray reveals he knows about bostontop is its own thing, and this being a turning point from defense to offense was great. like boston being willing to try to reason with ray, the only other member of the friendgroup who appears to be into casual sex, only to get slutshamed and dehumanized in return, taking a split second before turning the tables on ray, incredible. no one can hurt ray quite like boston and its fascinating each time. ray shows up mad at boston for being a bad friend and leaves crying and believing hes the bad friend instead, and all set off by that little shrug? perfect.

3. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?

one thing i love about boston is him being clear he isn't into relationships. like he doesnt pretend to be just to fuck people before dumping them, he is upfront about what he wants out of an interaction and still gets painted as the bad guy. so i LOVE this moment cause honeslty? free my man from people falling in love with him. "i never asked you to love me" such a banger line to say. the frustration over what i assume is years of having his words not believed or disregarded by guys hes slept with, years of slutshaming, you let it out babe.

2. fucking top

controversial i know but who else couldve done this???? like you can argue about how to label this action but one thing you cannot disagree with was that it was iconic. like one thing about boston, he will never be boring and thats why its a top character moment for me. it happens 1/4 of the way through the show and is only starting to be resolved as we get to the finale. absolute boss move. also seeing all the ways he tries to justify it, from it being just bad timing, to "i was just borrowing him" fucking amazing.

having nick as his background

again this is a list of moments that made me scream cry shake etc and this moment.... sorry to my neighbors but this had me entering a new dimension of noise. like portraits are his art, his self expression, the way our boy who doesnt like leaving traces of his own life captures a moment in someone elses forever, but this one imo is as much a reflection of nick as it is of boston. like nick is the only subject but boston is all over that image to me and the way it hangs in his darkroom and is then removed only to come back as the lockscreen. the way this is revealed in the scene where boston comes back to nick after making it clear he wants nothing to do with nick, nick means nothing to him, was never going to mean anything AND YET. im not gonna go on cause much better spoken bostonnick enthusiasts already have but fuck man, i love this picture. i love that is was his lockscreen on his broken but salvagable phone. top moment fr.

#only friends the series #boston only friends #bostonnick

[iavenjqasdf]

👷‍♀️occupational hazards🐜

WorkerAnt, the world's app-first construction contracting platform, revolutionized the building-building industry. All you gotta do is just scroll through a couple of boring legal things on your phone and check some boxes and voila; you have everything you need to try and build a living with your own two hands! Who needs a fancy degree, or the hassle of going to a trade school? I certainly didn't!

They didn't even make me do a drug test, or ask why my name and sex didn't match what it still says on my license, so honestly it's like a win/win for everyone involved.

I did my paid training in like 20 minutes; I just needed to watch a few videos telling me where to go and what I’ll get fired for, plus one on how to use pronouns respectfully.

I already knew most of the stuff they were telling me, so I pretty much just got paid to relearn what the right things to call myself are for liability purposes. I usually do that for free!

Every day, all I gotta do is show up at the check-in location, get handed all my tools, and then I take my mandatory 30 minute lunch break in the app right as I wait in line for the elevator up to the job site, so I can focus on nothing but work for the next 12 hours. I don’t need to worry about food anyways, because they sometimes throw pizza parties for us, and there might be a few slices left when I come back down.

Most of the time work’s pretty boring; I'm just hammering some boards together or whatever. The whole building looks like it's basically already all built, so I'm not sure what all the things we're attaching and connecting to each other are supposed to do, and I don’t get paid enough to care.

But I can’t complain. It’s an honest job; I have tasks to accomplish and all the tools I need to accomplish them, as long as I don't fuck something up.

I'm very happy with this arrangement and it's all worked out really great for me so far.

It does get a bit lonely up there sometimes though.

There is my one coworker, Lana; I think she might also be trans, though it's kinda hard to tell under the hard hat goggles and respirator I always see her wearing. But she's always polite at me and doesn’t give me any trouble, and the bits of her voice I’ve heard that aren’t drowned over by power tools sound really nice.

Sometimes I think about it even when she's not around, which now that I think about it is kinda like stealing from the job site, and that’s a firable offense, so maybe I shouldn't be doing it.

She tends to work late like me, too. It takes us both longer than everyone else to finish all our tasks, but at least they pay us almost as much!

Tonight, it's New Year's Eve, and we're the only ones still up there; hammering stuff together, unable to look out at the empty city below, lit up and then abandoned for the season, because I'm being paid the minimum tipped wage to cut a 2x4 with a dinky little dollar store dremel, and we have to finish up before the sun sets, cause the cost of running the lights gets taken outta your pay.

BZZSCHLKK!

And now my finger hurts too.

I look down, staring at the little squiggly meat piece of guy lying on the workbench, and after a minute I realize that oh shit, that used to be part of my right pinky.

So might the scarlet mist that now covers most of the walls and floor. I’m gonna have to get THAT painted over before the end of my shift, too.

First things first, though.

"Um, hey Lana?"

The whirring echoing from the other side of the room powers down. Lana pulls her plastic goggles over the rim of her hard hat, both now spritzed ever-so-gently with my crimson phalangemarrow. She looks only mildly concerned as she swims upstream along the spatter pattern.

One of the stickers on her hat catches the sunlight, holographic prism reflections dazzling my vision before my pattern recognition software kicks in-

Y-yeah, I know what that logo is. I’m too afraid to ask her if she does, too though. They make s*x t*ys, after all, and I think those are by definition Not Safe For Work.

Without saying a word she grabs my wrist, yanking my hand up to her face to examine it. Even under the visor, her eyes are red; bloodshot, and they scare me a little, so I try speaking up.

"Um, Lana, I think I need to go to the, uh. Hospital, place,"

"Why?"

I stare at her, dumbfounded for a second, before a pulse of pain reminds me of the severance’s urgency.

"W-well, to get it, like, reattached, y'know?"

She looks at the little meat squiggum lying sadly on the bench, letting go of my hand.

"Not really anything left to reattach."

Her voice is muffled by the respirator, but her expression is one of almost boredom. I feel bad for offending her, even though I’m not sure how I did it.

I try flexing a bit. OUCH! Bad idea. I pinch hard just below the cut, to try to keep more things from coming out of me. "W-well, we have to at least try…"

She eyes her own workstation impatiently, dying orange skyfire burning in the reflections of her eyes. A little spurt of blood squirts out of my pinky stump.

"Look, if you keep wasting time worrying about stupid little things like that, you’re not gonna last long here.”

What the fuck is she talking about?! I’m very badly hurt, and I need to go get it checked out right away. Tears well up in my eyes as I keep staring at where my finger now ends, just above the second knuckle.

I'll never get to pinky promise silly things to my little sister again; I’d only have a reminder of this loss, something permanently removed I could never get back.

I inhale a sniffle. "P-please, we gotta go. I don't wanna go around rounding up the number of fingers I have for the rest of my life."

She rolls her eyes, reshielding them with her goggles. "Would a round number make you feel better?"

"What?"

My dremel's motor whines to life as she turns back to face me.

"For symmetry, y'know?"

Her tone concerns me.

She grabs my good hand, forcing it flat against the workbench. I try to pull free, but my knees are still a bit wobbly from the pain, and I don’t want to risk any sudden moves around the little spinning amputation death motor, so I can't try too hard.

“L-listen, I’m sorry for involving you. J-just let me go and I-I’ll just clock myself out, and get to the hospital on my own…” My hand grasps at her, trying to push her away, but all I succeed in doing is knocking her respirator loose, and I gasp as all the gouges and scars and other missing bits of her face come into focus at last.

I see her teeth click as her jaw clenches, bone trembling with the purest expression of rage. Her knuckles are white around the dremel.

"Long term, working here is gonna take a lot more of you than I’m gonna.”

BZZZZZZSZCHLRRKKRRRRRK--

“Oh, hold on, it got stuck.”

My vision doubles and quadruples, the room swimming around me as I try to keep myself from passing out. This is obviously a dream, and hey, I haven’t had one of these in a while, let’s just try to keep it going right hahahaha-

WHRRRGGZZCCHLLTLTTTTTT!

The spinny deathblade plants another gentle kiss against my fingerbone, tingling my entire skeleton with electromechanical sparks. I stare at a bead of sweat tracing down Lana's cheek as the blade grinds through at last with a spray of calcium white.

The whine fades as the disposable plastic motor inside the tool gets gummed up with mutilated chunks of gore. My mouth hangs open making a noise and I'm afraid it's probably kind of a pathetic one. The bottoms of my goggles are filling up with tears, but that means I’m doing a good job of keeping the crying contained inside, so there's a chance Lana might still think I'm cool.

“There you go. Eight plus two halves equals nine. Almost as many as before.”

“ohgodohgodohgodohgod-” I wish I had something more interesting to say.

“What? I thought you wanted a round number.”

“Ijustwantedmyhandstobenormalagain-”

She pauses for a moment, then wanders off into the neighboring room, leaving me standing there, trembling alone in the dark.

I think about trying to find my own way back to the elevator, but I’m afraid of tripping over a lead pipe or something on the ground and having to use my damaged limbs to break my fall and mangling them further, and I don’t wanna get my phone all bloody to use the flashlight either, so I stay put.

Fireworks burst off in the distance, prematurely celebrating the dawn of a big new thing. I try not to look down at my mutilated handflesh, instead insisting my gaze on the sunset bathing over the city.

It's a really nice view, and I don't know if I'll get to be up here to enjoy it ever again.

“Okay, here, I can fix everything.”

She's returned, and I can’t get away from her because I don’t want to say no, so I let her take my bleeding broken hands and lead me to the workbench again.

Behind her gore-spattered goggles, I can see her eyes are swimming with tears now too, like she doesn't know what the fuck she's doing either, but I don't even hate her for it, I don't think.

"Here, just hold onto me. I'll fix you."

She presses up close, close enough that I can feel a bit of her heat even through her jacket. She takes my unrecognizably mutilated hand in her own and strokes it softly.

The lead in my stomach sinks deeper when I see that she's holding a staple gun in her other.

I tighten my grip, spilling blood onto her palm.

THUNK.

THUNK.

THUNK.

----------------------------------------

She sweeps the remains of my amputated digits off the ledge with her boot, sending little chunks of meat tumbling into the glimmering city grid. Thankfully, the night is cold enough now that I can't feel much of my hands at all.

Staple gun didn't work out too good.

She fiddles with something on the side of her hard hat, and a light comes on. It's kind of dim, but it's better than nothing.

We walk past piles of unsawed boards, boxes of nails and wrenches and other tool things. Neither of us say anything to each other. Even more fireworks are whistling and exploding above the city in the distance but I'm not getting paid to care.

She stands beside me in the dusk-filled elevator. We descend slow, neither of us averting our gaze from the doors sealed tight in front of us.

“Um, Lana?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I'm coming in to work tomorrow.”

“You’re not,” she states plainly. “Any injury sustained on the clock is grounds for termination, remember?”

“Oh, right…”

We’re quiet for a while. I don’t like the silence, the emptiness, so I try to fill it as always. “Um, I’m sorry for getting you involved…”

“It’s fine,” she lets out a quivering little sigh and turns to face me at last. “I don’t think they were gonna keep me on much longer, either way. I waste a lot of staples…”

I pick at a little crooked piece of metal worming its way through the layers of fat and muscle that once made up our entwined fingers, wondering how much more might need to be amputated by the time we get to a hospital, then a laugh catches in my throat, when I remember we no longer have health insurance.

ao3

#📝 #guro #ero guro #original fiction #toxic yuri #worker ants

[yandereloverwritesstuff]

Super Psycho Love Part 1

In which the star of the football team can't understand why you're so mean to him.

Yandere! Jock x Nerd! Reader

Part 2, Part 3

Content Warning: Manipulation, Sexual Themes

His dad had always recognized something off with his son but like most fathers had chalked it up to being a boy. When he was in elementary school his mom would discuss his behavior in quiet, hushed tones while hunched over her baby blue '#1 Mommy' mug – the way he was frequently written up in school for roughhousing and how her fellow mommy friends were hesitant to arrange playdates between the kids. He dismissed it as parents coddling their spineless, sheltered children and pushed her to drop it. It was easy for him. His dad thought all of the world's problems could be fixed with a little less bitchin' and a lot more backbreaking work. It wasn't until eighth grade when he had broken Eric Hartwin's nose in a fist fight and his lawyer parents were threatening to press charges that his dad decided that outlet was going to be good old-fashioned American football.

He loved it, even if he initially resisted and threw week-long tantrums over it. It was his hall pass to jostle and 'play rough' with the other boys without getting yelled at and it teased out an almost childlike glee. His handsome features were perpetually twisted with cruel elation under his thick football helmet. He carried out his job as an offensive lineman with pride. There was never a moment where his smile faltered, even if he walked off the astroturf covered in blood. It didn't matter if it was his; he reveled in the brief warmth on his skin. For the first time in his life, the kids at his school had an equal amount of respect for him as they had wariness. They wanted to crowd around him like moths and be invited to the afterparties, but they also didn't want to be beaten to a pulp by one of the strongest kids on campus. They thought of him like the old testament god – equal parts revered and feared. The football team could invite an underclassman to a party and launch them into popularity just as easily as they could bully one into doing their school assignments. They dominated the school as they saw fit.

With his power came almost unlimited pussy. He admitted that after losing his virginity in sophomore year sex quickly lost its taboo appeal; you see the power itself was the real aphrodisiac. Girls from freshman to senior year (and occasionally college) threw themselves at him. They were willing to do whatever he wanted as long as he gave them occasional attention. Of course, the cheerleaders were the only ones they would be seen with around campus, but that didn't stop any of them from hooking up with other girls at parties. A peppy, too-thin flyer would wear his number at games but at in the strobe-lights of parties he would take girls to bed knowing nothing more than they were there and he was there too and really bored. He probably would have continued living that lifestyle well past the point his hairline receded into the back of his neck had he not met you.

His kinda-girlfriend, Bella, reveled in her status and made sure everyone knew she considered everyone to be less than the grass stains on her uniform. They were cutting Physics (as they frequently did) and she was complaining about this prude in gym who refused to change with the other girls. She had mentioned a name, but he didn't have a face to pair it with. So he nodded along giving little affirmative noises here and there to give the impression he cared.

"She is probably the ugliest girl I've ever met. The only chance she'd have of landing a date was if she put a bag over her head." She huffed, shuffling through papers in her locker. "I swear, half of the girls at this school have never even heard of a diet. Her butt is so big. I don't know how some guys find it attractive. It's so gross. Imagine all the cellulite underneath those gym shorts." Bella turned to him and mockingly shoved a finger down her throat and fake gagged.

He shrugged. A fat ass actually sounded pretty hot, but he knew her standards for big were much lower than any normal person. She thought that anything above 105 was morbid obesity territory. Suddenly Bella shushed him and adjusted her high ponytail.

"Oh, don't say anything. Here she comes," She rolled her eyes, "dressed like goddamn Carrie White. What is she, amish?"

You wore your hair neatly braided around the crown of your head and a tartan collared dress, courtesy of weekends spent at thrift stores and estate sales. There was a steely, fiery look on your face that caught him off guard. If he didn't know any better he thought he could feel heat radiating from you. Your lip curled in a slight scowl. He thought is was kind of funny that someone so harmless looking could be so visibly livid. It sparked something deep in him, something he hadn't ever felt: genuine interest to know the 'why' of a woman. He gave you a once over before making eye contact; if anything your expression got more hostile. Your eyes narrowed further and you scrunched your nose before you opened the locker next to Bella's.

THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

An avalanche of the belongings of your locker spilled into the halls; several textbooks, a few bent and frequently dogeared paperbacks, as well as binders, homework and quizzes with A's marked in big red ink piled at your feet. You groaned. It was a free period and you had nowhere to be, so it wasn't a big deal. But the thought of kneeling before Isabella Marsh and scrambling to pick up your things was awfully humiliating. It was your fault though, you had a tendency to throw things haphazardly into it between periods without paying much attention.

"Well, are you going to pick it up?" Bella looked at you expectantly and you chewed the inside of your lip. She crossed her arms over her chest and drummed her fingers on her upper arm. You had looked into transferring out of your shared gym class, but all the other ones were filled and you needed it to graduate. It was one of your worst nightmares to be in the gym with half of the cheerleading team. Despite having never won a single competition since the school's founding, they all had raging superiority complexes over the rest of the female student body. You chalked it up to their proximity to the football team and their status as two-time state winners.

He watched the two of you glower for what seemed like minutes before you slowly squat down, carefully staying on your oxford-clad feet instead of getting on your knees. He thought it was a shame because you'd definitely be cute looking up at him. Taking you in, he imagined that it was impossible for you to have even seen a dick in person. You looked so straight-edge and pure based on your grandmotherly style and A papers. He had never seen girls on campus dress like that, probably not even girls from the last decade.

"Here, I'll help." He announced, startling himself by his generosity.

You shuddered slightly and continued to sloppily bunch papers close to your chest. "I'm okay. Thank you though."

He had never met a girl who rejected his attention outright, much less show such blatant distaste.

"Are you sure?" He knelt down to look you in your face. You had a grimace on your face that didn't quite suit your wide, doe eyes. There was almost a feral dog look to you. It didn't intimidate him in the slightest but his cheeks grew uncomfortably warm. He could still tell that you were cute despite such an ugly expression. Your lips were tinted a rosy red, like you had been picking at the skin. He lamely picked up a copy of 'The Bell Jar' and dumbly pretended to read the back.

"Yes. I'm sure." He didn't need to look at you to feel the intensity of your Kubrick stare on him. It wasn't the 'I want to fuck you' daydream-gaze from starry-eyed women that he was accustomed to, but the 'I want you dead' glare that nobody (especially a girl) would dare give him even as a joke. He limply held his hand out, offering you the book. You took it curtly, your fingers scraping by his. He stumbled as he stood up, trying not to feel awkward.

You hadn't noticed the effect you had on him. Maybe if you did, you would have been more careful after. Before he could say anything, you had stormed off again, clutching the book so tight your knuckles were white.

"God, what a stuck up bitch." Bella commented under her breath.

"I wonder what her problem is." He mumbled. What he really meant though was that he was going to figure out what your problem was.

He had a reputation; he was a bad person who went through teenage girls like tissues to jack off into. He was the antithesis of anyone you'd ever respect, much less date.

You had seen some of the girls. Not that you had many friends to gossip with, but it wasn't uncommon to see a girl or two crying in the bathroom before first period after the weekend of a big game because he never texted them after. It was the first week of autumn the first time you heard about him and it wasn't like you were eavesdropping or being weird about it. You always arrived early to put on makeup in the bathroom, since your parents didn't allow it at home. So you'd stand perched on your tippytoes with a mascara wand in one hand while listening to a small group of girls comfort their distressed friend. She'd weep on their shoulders, barely able to stand because of her burning humiliation. You'd multitask: watching through the mirror out the corner of your eye while applying a thin, barely-there swipe of taupe eyeshadow with your fingertip.

"Shhh," A brunette with braces stroked a redhead's back softly, "It's going to be okay sweetheart. We all make mistakes."

A lanky girl with a small patch of acne on her cheek sighed, "Not to be that person, but we told you that he's not a good guy."

Sometimes you wished you had friends like that. They seemed so supportive and kind and in a way it made you feel like a friend by association. It became somewhat of a routine during football season; you'd take your contraband cosmetics into the bathroom and listen to yet another heartbroken girl recount their time at a party thrown by the football team. It didn't take long before you grew to hate them all, even if you've never interacted with any members of the team. It didn't help that they sucked school funding dry so there was nothing left for the debate and chess team...

When you hurried off, you didn't know that he took it as an invite to chase after you.

#yandere x reader #yandere jock #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarions