#drunk driver mindset

[castratedtestimonies]

This is extremely typical of the Drunk Driver Mindset.

I know this is a new concept for people, so I want to take it slow.

56% of American men, and 43% of American women have driven drunk in their lifetime. I'm reblogging from an Australian, so I will also add: 14% of Australians have driven drunk just in the last six months.

Okay, who gives a fuck?

Well, the thing is, it kills people. It kills people very regularly. Drunk driving is so dangerous that it's fair to say that anyone who chooses to drive drunk knowingly risks killing people every time they do it. On average, when an American is arrested for driving drunk, they are on their 80th offense, only being caught for the first time now.

So what's the mindset issue?

Entitlement.

Entitlement is the notion that what other people do that's wrong is okay for you to do because you're special. Entitlement is less an ideology and more a habit of mind. I used to be a counselor for men who committed domestic violence. I saw this all the time: They would be able to recognize abuse and violence in other people's relationship, but make exceptions for themselves and their behaviors. They might be ashamed, but they will never admit wrong.

But it doesn't just go away, those feelings of shame. They tend to fester. They find new outlets.

The drunk driver, having knowingly risked killing others countless times begins to devalue human life itself, and feel entitled to decide which lives are important.

Enter immigration.

Illegal immigration is about as dangerous a crime as a clerical error. You might think that immigrants are the cause of lots of other social ills, mass rapes, violent drug dealers, human trafficking (or whatever the latest fad story being pushed out by nationalists). And you might even be right.

But the crime of crossing a border is a paperwork mistake. A clerical error. A non-issue as far as the health and safety of the public is concerned

So why is it that such a minor crime yields the ire and fear of such a large portion of the population?

Well, of course there's racism, and ignorance, and the idea that somehow rape and murder are worse when it's a non-national doing it, and that it's somehow, absurdly, more logical to group crimes together by the race of their perpetrators--rather than by, Oh I don't know, the crime itself. But that's boring and not actually that important.

Drunk drivers would kill children for dressing in bunny costumes if it eased their consciences.

Drunk Driver Mindset dictates that, in order to recuperate the health and safety that the drunk driver knowingly compromises in their own society, there must be someone even more dangerous. Alcoholics are notorious for blaming their issues on others, and for having obsessions around control where they cannot control things, and freedom where no one is holding them back. This drama basically ensues from the inability to get a grip on their drinking. The drunk driver compounds these obsessions because they know they use their freedom to endanger others. They know that they cannot stop themselves without a help that, were it to come, they would slap away as unjust control.

The drunk driver is the reason we can't have nice things.

The Drunk Driver Mindset is what drives our culture to be filled with murder fantasies whenever our culture collectively finds a target for their rage and their obsessions.

If you really do care about health and safety, get help with your drinking. If you really do care about health and safety, accept the reality that drunk drivers are a greater danger to society than immigrants or single mothers or trans kids or whatever other target you'd like to feel entitled to attack.

Take a deep breath.

Look at the numbers. Understand that drunk driving is the greater danger.

Or else please do shut the fuck up.

[abbysgolf-club]

STALKER

-- an abby anderson fic. wlw.

stalker/modern AU

stalker!abby, fem!reader. SFW.

cw - implied hallucinations, alcohol usage from reader, stalking (obviously), cheating, (pet names such as baby), not proof read so let me know if i missed any or if there's any spelling mistakes.

no use of y/n don't worry.

idk how this is gonna do but if y'all want a pt2 lmk!!

----

You and abby broke up 4 months ago over an hefty argument; she came home drunk, with another girl you didn't know. Abby says it was her cousin. You didn't buy it. You left that night, packed your things and left.

Now, 4 months later, you have your life together; new friends, new mindset, new everything. The only thing you didn't have is a new girlfriend. You told yourself after what had happened with Abby you were staying out of a relationship for a while.

You were staying in an apartment in Santa Barbara; far away from your then home with Abby in Seattle. The only odd thing was you could've sworn that you've seen her, felt her presence. You told yourself time and time again you were imagining it, going insane almost. But her presence was everywhere. The club. The beach. Even the god damn grocery store. Everywhere you went you saw her in the corner of your eye, your anxiety and paranoia heightening every time you step out of the comfort of your apartment.

Tonight was different. The air felt different. You could almost smell her. That pine, cinnamony smell mixed with the slight smell of her sweat. Your friends told you 'it's just the clubs smell, don't worry' but you couldn't help being anxious.

You were deep in the shots by now, shot after shot after shot. The alcohol coursing through your veins as if it was making up your entire bloodstream. You'd somewhat started to forget you were every paranoid; the scent of Abby gone, replaced by a strong stench of alcohol and hot, sweaty bodies.

Until you saw her. You saw her underneath the soft glow of the clubs blue lights. You panicked. Running to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face, when your phone vibrated on your purse.

A text, from an unknown number. You read it, tears forming in your eyes. 'you look beautiful tonight, baby.'

What did she want? Why was she back? After 4 months, why was she doing this? Tormenting you as if it was some fun game.

You opted to not responding, and instead scurried out of the bathroom, finding your friends to say goodbye and ordering a cab home.

You shoved 40 dollars into the cab drivers hand, telling him to take you to your apartment. You were on the verge of a breakdown. How long had she been watching you? You'd only been catching glimpses of her for the past 2 weeks; thinking you were going crazy.

You arrived at your apartment, juggling the keys in your hands and shakily unlocking the door. Once inside, you made sure all your doors were locked, anywhere accessible to entry, you made sure it was locked. You probably walked around your house 5 times making sure everywhere was shut, bolted and locked.

bzz-bzz

Your phone vibrated. again.

'don't run away baby, i wont hurt you'

You stared at the new message. Pondering on whether to reply or not. Eventually, around 5 minutes later, you responded.

'what do you want?'

You waited patiently, yet, at the same time nervously for a reply back. You paced your apartment, phone in hand and the unknown numbers texts open.

'you know what i want.'

one text.

'i want you.'

You turned off your phone. Throwing it down on the couch, you couldn't respond. What would you even say? You can't just welcome her back into your life. Not only did she bring another girl back to your guys' house; but she was manipulative. cruel at times. You couldn't deny, there was times she was the sweetest girl you could meet. But those times were outweighed. You'd moved on from that time in your life.

Or had you?

You slept, you slept on it. Surely it wasn't actually Abby right? It was probably just one of your friends messing with your head.

That was until you woke up to a loud noise. A loud noise coming from your kitchen that sounded like a glass or a plate smashing on the floor. You hurled yourself out of bed, throwing on a large t-shirt, grabbing a baseball bat from your closet before racing down your stairs.

You stood outside the kitchen door, taking deep breaths, preparing yourself for what was in there.

click

Your turned the doorknob. Allowing yourself to slowly walk into the kitchen.

You looked down at the smashed glass on the floor and up at the counter, lowering your baseball bat. It was just your cat.

"Garfield! You scared me!" You exclaimed, picking your cat up off of the counter and placing him in the other room.

You came back into the kitchen to clean up the glass, that's when you felt it. A big hand covered your mouth from behind.

It was her.

[blossomarlia]

hi bit a of weird request but would you be able to write one where fem!reader is walking home from a party and feeling kind of insecure/sad but james sees her and like cheers her up?

hi! hope this is kind of what you wanted, thanks for the request <3

james potter x fem! reader

warnings: mentions of slut-shaming/victim mindset, reader is drunk and a bit insecure, excessive use of pet names

You try, uselessly, to pull your thin shirt across just a little more of your chest, skin sensitive and prickling with goosebumps as another chill sweeps through the lamp-lit street. You hadn’t expected the cold to affect you so quickly; at Marlene’s party, a combination of alcohol and crowded bodies had kept you perfectly warm. You’d felt warmed inside, too, confident and sparkling, for most of the night. You suppose the cold isn’t helping to remind you how that ended, either.

“You’re certainly putting on a show,” someone said. “Looks like you’re up for just about anything.”

Thankfully, Emmeline and Mary had been standing nearby, and the anonymous plus-one was treated to a thirty-five minute lecture on respect before being sent home. You tried to laugh at his expression and the bitter apology he threw your way- you did, really, but the damage was done. Worse, when you looked around and realised that almost none of your friends were dressed in quite the same calibre of party outfit as you were. 

“What, you’re worried you look too hot? Relax, babe.” Marlene had said, trying to make you feel better. It would’ve worked if you hadn’t had quite so many ciders, and spent half an hour already feeling rotten. Mary, not realising that it had actually upset you (to be fair, you’d done nothing but pretend to be fine) said that to cover up would be proving him right, and how could you ask Marlene for a spare t-shirt after that? It would be vindication for everyone who thought the same thing as that stupid boy, wouldn’t it? 

Now, freezing cold and barely halfway to your flat, you’re completely confused as to why you decided to abandon your cab home. You remember saying something about needing fresh air to the driver, and then you’d paid and he drove off without a second thought. Your friends would be worried sick if they knew you were out here all alone. And dressed like this, too, a mean little voice adds. Really, what do you expect to happen?

It’s not true or fair, you know, but this entire night hasn’t been anything like what you’d imagined when you were putting on makeup and getting dressed, and you’re so cold that your teeth are chattering, and it’s all making you feel awfully close to tears. 

“Hey!” You stiffen, seeing yourself briefly silhouetted against the pavement by headlights behind you. You turn, tense and worried, and squint at the man sitting in the front seat.

“James?” You gasp, a hand on your stomach as you try to swallow the panic climbing your throat. “I thought you were- how are you here?”

James looks very worried and quite guilty, too. “Sorry, angel. Should’ve turned my high-beams off.” If you were sober and quite a lot happier, the endearment would make you smile- James’ habit of referring to everyone by a pet-name is one of the most lovely things about him. “I live this way, remember? I was supposed to be picking Pa- Sirius up, but he’s decided to stay the night at Marls’.”

You know their nicknames for one another- everyone does. Padfoot, Moony, Prongs. You don’t know what they mean, and don’t really need to, but it’s sort of nice that James always makes the effort to use Remus and Sirius’ real names when he’s talking to those outside their trio. Maybe he’s unaware that he does it, but it’s as if he’ll do anything to avoid people feeling excluded. 

“Sorry,” You say, voice suddenly wobbly, and close your eyes tightly. You hear James’ door open and then his footsteps as he comes towards you- you expect his touch, and wouldn’t hate it but wouldn’t want it like you usually do, either- but then he’s draping something warm and soft around your shoulders. You open your eyes. You’re wearing one of his jackets, soft brown corduroy that reaches the tops of your thighs. You think you remember him saying it belonged to his father; Fleamont and Euphemia Potter are known within your circle of friends for being generous with their belongings. You think Lily was wearing one of Euphemia’s scarves in her ponytail tonight.

You sway in your heels. Why didn’t you take them off? Your feet ache terribly, another hurt to add to the list. You press a fist to your chest, willing yourself not to start crying in front of James, who is undoubtedly the nicest boy you’ve ever fancied. 

“Will you let me drop you home? It’s too cold, you’ll get sick,” He asks gently, as if to prove your point. 

“Okay.” 

You sniffle. “Oh, sweetheart,” He says. 

You’re bundled into the car, still shivering, and James reaches into the backseat to get a jumper- why he has so many articles of outerwear in his car, you’ve no idea- and puts it across your bare legs to warm you up. He turns the heater up the whole way and pats your shoulder before he shuts the door.

You look at him as he sits in the driver’s seat, your hands clammy and face raw with upset. “I’m really sorry. This is so embarrassing.”

He gives you a bemused half-smile, shaking his head. “How’s that?” “I’m not sober. And I’m hardly wearing anything.” The second part comes out much quieter, but somewhere between Marlene’s flat and this car you started feeling very sorry to everyone that you’d put on such a ‘show’, or whatever, tonight. Would it have been so hard just to wear jeans? You feel ashamed, dirty, embarrassed. People have probably been whispering about it all night.

James doesn’t start driving yet. “Are you okay?” He asks, more serious than you’re expecting him to be. “Did something happen?”

“No- well, yeah, but it was…” You squeeze your eyes closed again, pressing your fingertips cruelly into your lids and regretting it when they come away stained with mascara. You must look a sight. “Nothing bad happened, I just wish I hadn’t worn this.”

You glance at James to see him frowning at you, but he quickly smooths his expression. Great, he’s judging you too. “Why not, sweetheart? You look gorgeous. I hope someone told you, even if I wasn’t there to say it.”

You look like you’re up for just about anything, the other man’s voice echoes in your head. You take several short breaths. 

“I just should’ve worn something else. I feel- um.” You rub your hands across your face. “There were just- this guy made a comment, I don’t know, it hurt my feelings. It’s silly. I’m drunk.”

You’re slightly startled to sense James tensing beside you, even across the console of his car. His hands tighten around the steering wheel. “Who was it? What did he say?”

“I don’t know,” You reply, truthfully to the former question and not to the latter. “It doesn’t even matter.”

“Is he still there?”

You’re worried James is going to turn around and go back to the party, he sounds so incensed, and when you look at him he’s wearing an expression that you’ve never seen before. You shake your head. “He’s gone. The girls made him. I- please can we just go? Sorry. It’s not worth talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” James blinks and gives you an apologetic smile, pulling back onto the street and waving a hand in front of the heater nearest you. “This working alright? Are you warm enough?”

“Loads better, thank you.” 

You drive in silence for five minutes. You want it to be comfortable, but your mind keeps spinning itself back to just about anything, and it’s getting more and more difficult not to cry. You’re grateful when James says your name.

“Do you want to listen to some music? You can choose anything,” He offers, opening the glove compartment in front of you with his eyes still on the road and revealing an extensive CD collection. “I bet you have good taste.” You look through the jewel cases, bemused but flattered by this assessment. You’re pleasantly surprised. It doesn’t take long for you to pick something, and James nods his approval.

“Good choice, angel,” He smiles over at you. It’s beginning to rain, the droplets scattering shadows across the car with each streetlamp you pass. They look almost like freckles on James’ face. “What’s that look?”

You realise you’ve been staring, though there’s nothing to indicate any sort of judgement in his tone. You look at your lap. “Nothing, sorry, I’m just… um, thanks for driving me. It was really kind.”

“You’re easy to be kind to,” He replies lightly, as if it’s nothing at all. 

There’s another pause, perhaps more comfortable. 

“That idiot who hurt your feelings,” James says eventually, “Was wrong. Whatever he said, he was wrong.”

“You can’t know that. Maybe he was exactly right,” You say, and don’t quite manage to laugh it off. 

“I can’t think of a single bad thing he could’ve said that would’ve been true,” James retorts immediately. You look at him. “Truly.”

His softness is persuasive, even if he’s not trying to get information out of you. “He said that my outfit made it look like I was up for anything,” You admit, and your face heats in shame. Dread, too, that James will remain silent and unable to disagree, after all. 

He’s frowning deeply when you glance at him. “What does that even mean?”

“You know what it means, James.” 

There’s a moment where you worry he’ll make you spell it out, but then he huffs out a breath and nods, eyebrows knitted together. “Yeah, I do- I’m sorry, sweetheart. That’s a ridiculous thing to say to someone. What a dick!”

“I don’t think everyone found it ridiculous. I mean, it’s- it’s not really my most conservative outfit, is it?” You joke half-heartedly. Why am I arguing this? Why did one stupid boy’s comment ruin my confidence so completely? 

“So what?” James counters, “What does it matter what you’re wearing? I- well, it matters to me because you look gorgeous, you really do- but it doesn’t say anything about what you’re ‘up for’!”

“I know that,” You say quietly. 

“I really hope you do, angel,” He sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re- you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry he was so awful. No wonder you're upset.”

“It’s fine; I’m being a bit dramatic. I’m drunk.” “There’s nothing dramatic about being hurt when someone’s said something hurtful, it’s the most normal reaction” James says firmly. “It’s not a weakness, Y/N.”

“It’s just- I don’t know why I’m letting it affect me like this. I know it’s bullshit. If he’d said it to anyone else I’d’ve been one of the people shouting at him.”

“You’re a selfless person,” He says like it’s an immoveable fact. “It can be easier to stand up for other people than yourself; you’re only human.”

“Thanks, James.”

“No need to thank me, lovely girl.”

He starts talking about other things: rugby, a film they’re showing at your local cinema, a new bakery that’s popped up down the street from him. You’re struck by how much care he expresses with every detail; he’s liking rugby, but he worries the early wakeup times mean he’s disturbing Remus and Sirius in the mornings, neither of whom enjoy getting up before ten o’clock; he’s interested to see the film because Mary went on a spiel about its other iterations and interpretations by directors, and he wants to understand what she was talking about better; the new bakery is owned by a man who used to work with James’ father, but always had a knack for pastries and has spent years saving up to buy a place. It was James who told him about the shop being leased. It’s as if his entire world, his life, is constructed out of the love he has for his friends, and you find yourself capable of relaxing, smiling, laughing, the rest of your night momentarily discarded. 

James can’t come in for tea, but he does walk you to your door and refuse to take back the jacket.  “It looks good on you, angel. No surprise,” He grins.

You step forward, emboldened, and kiss him on the cheek. You hope you’re not so tipsy that his blushing is imagined, though he does stammer slightly before clearing his throat and speaking again.

“I should go home to Remus, he was expecting me a while ago. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, should be,” You look up at him, wishing he didn’t have to go. “Thanks again.”

“Enough thanking. Would it- could I give you a ring tomorrow? Just to-”

“That would be really nice,” You respond, a beat too quickly to be nonchalant. You both laugh. If tonight hadn’t been what it was, you think you might like to kiss James properly. Instead, “Maybe… um, I could buy you something from the bakery to make up for all this?”

James’ brow furrows at the last part, but he’s relievingly open to your suggestion. “I’ll be paying, sweetheart, but it sounds like a plan. I’ll call in the morning to sort it out?”

“Okay,” You smile.

“Okay. Goodnight, angel.”

[andcars]

ㅤ [ 𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 ]

premise. having a party hosted by lando norris gets too chaotic. alcohol, colorful lights, and hard fucking drugs. you learn things about yourself but max seems to be perfectly aware of what he wants

prompt # ㅤfemale reader, submissive max verstappen, consensual drugging, touchstarved [ "Don't go… not yet, not now, preferably" + "Take it slow—shit! You're eager" ] tags #ㅤporn without plot wc #ㅤ 1.34k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

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His skin was always too smooth. The way it felt light to the touch, innocent, soft, and addicting. When you move your body under an unintelligible rhythm, you yearn to touch Max’s skin. He’s right in front of you. The man embraces a wild side unknown to you when he moves. There is a light drunken step to him. He sways side to side and a loopy grin on his face, amused at nothing but himself.

Preserving control, you only get to wrap your arms around him. He’s not surprised by you. “Hm? Hi, baby.” His smile is sleepy but he’s happily becoming puddy in your hold. Pursed lips, half closed eyes, and blush red cheeks tempt you too much. “Have you tried the wine? They won’t tell me what fuckin’ brand it is… D’you think you could ask? We could have it at home.”

“I think what you need is water,” you laugh, he does too. You’re allowed to drag him away from the neon floors. He’s not wasted. “Let’s calm you down for a bit, yeah?” Max doesn't say no.

The intoxication only got his pupils dilated, body heated, and skin looking so fucking soft. You briefly rub your finger against the back of his palm, admiring his knuckles and his rough hands. It's not as soft as his body—his palm is, you mean—and it’s marked by the hours of racing and training he puts in. It makes him all the more adorable, you think. The man works out every week and yet you can still squish his stomach when you hug him from behind.

In the midst of a conversation, Lando joins. He wraps an arm around Max, clearly more drunk than your boyfriend. “Hey, man! How’s the party? Are we holding up good?”

Lando is laughing and Max is light enough that he is too. “Yeah. We are just taking a break for a bit—seriously, what is that alcohol, mate? It’s so fucking good, I’m considering buying it to keep.

“No, it’s my brand!” Lando shakes his head at a complaining Max. “Here, I’ve got something for you to try. No charge, mate. I’m like too fucking nice for my own good around here.” He pulls out two pills, forcing Max’s hand open to take them. “Take some, it’s great. You and your girl have fun with it.”

Max looks at the pills and to the retreating figure of Lando. Without any more prompting, you guess what it is. “Did he just give you drugs at his own party?” Max laughs at your blunt statement, shrugging. It’s almost obscene but Formula 1 drivers are always another breed, you always guessed.

How you end up in one of the club’s hook-up rooms (a replacement to the lounge chairs and the bathrooms, a completely plain bedroom) is almost a blur. Taking the drugs with Max, you both delve into the feeling of ecstasy and bad decisions. It's almost rewarding. Max is touching you up with warm hands and you're craving to fuck him into the mattress. Your head isn't in the best mindset. It's completely determined to turn Max over and make him your toy for the night.

The air in the room is clogged with arousal. With heightened senses, you both act like animals driven to instinct. He’s panting. The duvet under him is crinkled as he’s writhing on the bed, grinding his erection on your clothed pussy. Sweat slickens his skin, creating a sheer glow to his fucked out look. For a moment you think how this is bad, both of you are barely aware of each other and it’s like you can barely focus. The fucking pill is intense. Your body is heating up more than it should. Both of you are craving for each other as your heads fill with sex.

Your name in Max’s mouth sounds lewd. He places his hands on your hips, wanting to control the friction so bad. “‘ts hot…” he breathes, eyes unfocused and clouded. “Fuck… I need your clothes off. I wanna f-feel you. I need you so bad—“ his rambles are unintelligent as he rushes to take your top off. Your bra is unclapsed and thrown as he mounds it.

Max is thoroughly enjoying this, though he doesn’t look like he’s all aware of what he’s doing. “Max,” you say, “maybe we should just… stop?” The noise he makes sounds like it was from an injured animal. “Max, I think we’re a bit too out of it to consent. I’m gonna go get us s-“

“No!” His hands clench, almost painful. Your pained expression gets him to soften, sitting up instead to embrace you. “Sorry, no… Just don’t leave, please? Not yet. Maybe later—no, don’t.” He’s not making much sense. With his nose buried in your shoulders, he’s trying to take your scent in, “Please don’t leave. I want this so much.

“You love me, right?” He pleads. “If you love me you’ll stay. I wanna fuck you so bad, please!”

"Off," you demand, no longer feeling like playing nice. "Take off your clothes for me, baby."

He looks crazed. Max's lips turn as he grins, satisfied to finally get the release he has been itching for. You came here wanting to cool down from the heat building inside of you. Now it seems impossible to do anything but fuck. Neither of you seem to be protesting now. It's all hands on each other and begging for relief.

Both of you sit naked. You let him pull off your panties. He's mesmerized. Max's cock grinds against the folds, aching to be inside. "Don't. Don't put it in yet."

"Fuck... why?"

"Take it slow, Max." You're lying to him and yourself. "I want... fuck, baby. I need you to be patient for me."

Maybe it's the alcohol and the pills that's made Max more malleable than you. He's whining against your skin. With his hands behind him, he lets you do whatever you want. Your lips latch onto his skin, needing to taste him. He's soft. He's how you imagine. It's like you're feeling him for the first time and it's addicting.

Your cunt kisses the tip of his cock, almost engulfing. The warmth of your pussy is teased, dangled over his head. When you push yourself down, he moans out loud. “Yes… I love—“ his whines cut off his own words. Desperate, he wraps his arms around your waist. He’s whimpering against your body, in love with the way your pussy takes his cock. Little ah ah ah ah’s a repetition in his lax mouth.

Halfway taking his cock, he starts to thrust up. “Max…” you try to tell off. It’s met with pained whining. “Baby, take it slow. I wanna—hmph!”

Without getting fully inside of you, he’s already thrusting up. You hold onto his shoulders. Every thrust, he pushes further and further. The lack of preparation has you reeling, back arching and toes curling. Pain comes hand in hand with the pleasure. Max has his mouth open, completely addicted to the feeling of your pussy struggling to take all of him. It’s not wise to let a drugged Max try to take the lead. He’s all pace and almost no game, just a desperate mess.

“S-so good,” you manage to catch his words. “Oh God. Feels so good. I love it. I love it. oh god, fuckkkk~!” His words have turned Dutch, unintelligible to your ears. He’s holding your body against him as he uses you like a toy. The pistoning of his cock has you hearing your heartbeat in your ears. It’s overwhelming. Without anything else, your pussy gushes out when it orgasm. You can feel the tide of orgasm washing over you when Max doesn’t even feel like stopping.

Your hands caress his head. “Good boy for me,” that gets a particular hard thrust against your g-spot. “Such a good boy, Max. Gonna cum for me? Let it out, baby. I wanna feel you cum inside of me.”

It’s when Max kisses you did he cum. You know he came when his hips jitters, attempting little thrusts as his cock spurts out his release. The little jolts has his cockhead rubbing against the deepest part of you. It’s got your mind numbing where the drugs can’t reach. The right amount of dopamine hit you as his tongue wetly coats your mouth. You think to yourself how Max does not feel like he has soften inside of you. Briefly, you think if the drugs Lando has given you were aphrodisiacs.

What it is doesn’t matter. Max switches the position, ready to go again as he fucks his cum inside of you. This time, you’re just going along with it.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305 @mv1simp

FOOTNOTE ────── sorry if this one seemed a bit rushed ! was trynna do this and the thing i'm posting on christmas ! i'm going w/o my pc so i have to schedule these posts and this one came late. also, for some reason the original ask got deleted or was lost as i was starting to format it ? sorry anon ! but this one is for you and every sub max enjoyer. merry christmas eve ya'll !

[csainz5]

Mine || Charles Leclerc #16

pairing: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

summary: in which seeing people ship you with other drivers fuels the possessiveness in charles.

author notes: can u tell ive been obsessed with culpa mia. also this is my first charles fic (!!!) i made sm tweaks to the original req im so sorry 😭 deff been in a slump recently bc exams but 🙏 no beta read!! this one is still raw asf lol

req: yes/no.

wc: 1.2k words

————

the air as the weekend approached was filled with an adrenaline of its own. drivers loitering on the paddock, a camera shoved up each one of their faces. most of them were making videos for their teams social media, while others were giving interviews. silly banter & playful hazing surrounded the place as the free practices neared. as calm and laid back as the environment was, a new buzz had taken over the virtual world. it seemed like the redbull fans had taken on a new intrest in a the friendship you and max shared, suspecting it could be more than just friends. you’re shocked as you read through the articles, what could possibly make it seem like you were both in any sense more than just friends? max was like the brother you never had, and you, the sister he had always hoped of having. as much as the articles were delusional, you didnt really care that much about them, i mean why would you be afraid when there’s nothing youre scared of being open to the public? okay, maybe not everything. not the time when you were so drunk you demanded every guy on the paddock to quote “settle it with me on the ring”, not the time when you were the culprit behind the hilarious azerbaijan mix up where you stole the champagne on the podium and replaced it with an empty one, and definitely not the fact that you’re already taken, by a person known to all on the paddock.

—

The morning of the race was always an exhilarating one no matter which team youre driving for, or which team you’re rooting for. the passion, the dedication and the confidence in the each and every drivers persona was enough to fill you in the same mindset. though youve always been a redbull fan, which, i mean is definitely not even surprising considering you probably frequent their garage more than some of their own engineers, youve always held an admiration for all the drivers. even you knew how dominant the redbull cars were, so seeing the rest of the drivers still catch up with less resources filled your heart with pride. you look up at the fan’s waiting impatiently for the race to start with a smile on your face. this, will never get boring, you think.

Lord Percival 👑

can’t find you anywhere near here, don’t tell me you’re ditching me today yet again 😔

a chuckle escapes your lips.

You

i wouldve come over but you’re all the way across rn 😭 i’ll definitely be waiting for you after the race tho.

Lord Percival 👑

wow. way to betray me over text babe

You

okay drama queen 😒

Lord Percival 👑

guess you rubbed off on me then mon jolie

You

ill make it up to you, i always do.

just before you press send, you notice the drivers had already left for their respective interviews. whats the point in sending it now anyways, you decide.

—

the dark looms over the sky as celebrations near. the smell of alcohol, weed and god knows fucking what become all too familiar to you at this point. you reach the party alongside max, which considering he’s your best friend was not out of the ordinary for you, but little did you know, it didn’t help the ongoing rumours one bit. the familiar stench of reporters clogs your mind. what the hell were the doing here? and more importantly why were all of them suddenly taking an intrest in your friendship with max? question after question is thrown at you which makes you realise youve had enough of this. you reach for your phone.

You

screw this party

wanna meet up at our usual spot?

Lord Percival 👑

im always down 🙏

—

you could never get sick of this. the same ride, the same atmosphere, the exact same playlist playing over and over again, the curves of the road as you drive through. because you know, at the end of this journey would be the same thing you look forward to, every time. so you get into you car, and drive the same drive to the same spot, once again. at a pillar reading out “623” you stop by the ferrari you know all too well.

there he was. i could never get used to seeing him like this, you think, dressed up in formals but looking formal in no way whatsoever. shriveled hair, buttons unbuttoned, jewellery he knows how to style in just the right way. his crazed eyes of emerald, gazing into you with an intensity that makes your nerves shiver.

“took you long enough to come here” he says, holding you waist. “it was a longer drive than usual” “is that so?” he says, stepping aside you to rest against his ferrari, right beside you. folding his arms, he continues, pulling a cigarette out of his blazer, “want one?” “please, today was a bitch” “i could say the same for me, really” he reaches towards you, lighting your cigarette. “races in monaco are my favourite” he says, looking up at the sky. “yeah, id imagine so. nothing beats home” “yeah, it’s great to be home and all, but theres also something in monaco that beats the thrill any race could give me” he steps forwards, hands placed beside either sides of you.

he pulls the cigarette from your lips, taking in a puff himself. he brings his lips to your ear, “or rather, theres someone in monaco, who beats the thrill any race could give me” he whispers, blowing the smoke away. he flicks the cigarette aside and steps on it, as he lifts your face up, meeting your eyes with his own. “someone who sighs right when i kiss her here,” he goes on to place a chaste kiss on your mole, right on your neck by your jawline. and like a story repeated enough times, you sigh. “someone who arches her back when i pull her hair slightly like this,” he gently tugs your hair, making a makeshift ponytail and like a telltale, you arch your back, the satisfaction of being right sprawled across charles’s face.

“but of all, the one thing that makes me come back to this place again and again, is knowing that—“ he lifts your hips up, making you wrap your legs around him. “you’re mine.” the second he says that, its like all the dots connected in your head. you never thought charles would be jealous of the rumours, given how he was the one who didn’t want your relationship to be public. “charles, are you jealous?” you ask. “so what if i am?” “well, i for one wouldnt want my boyfriend to be feeling like that anymore” “what do you mean?” you pull out your phone from your clutch, “kiss me” “wait what are you doing?” “i said, kiss me” you say, pulling him in by his jaw. “im conf-“ you kiss him, shutting him up. as he closes his eyes he finds himself to not be able to help himself from drowning into you, well atleast until a flash brings him out of his trance. “im going to post it.” “you don’t have to, you know” “but i want to. i want everyone to know how much you mean to me charles. you’re my favourite person and i would hate to see you be jealous”

——

“i can’t believe you actually did it, jolie” “its the least i could do” you say, pecking his cheek. “but ive gotta say, i definitely wouldnt mind seeing this shade of you more often” “you haven’t seen the end of me yet, mon ange”

[gendiebrainrotreceipts]

Really frustrating to word concern over modern hookup and kink culture to women you’re friends with without accusations of being a prude or anti sex. Some random uber driver you met drunk sleeping with you doesn’t make you hot shit to me, it makes you dangerously irresponsible. A guy you met last week strangling you till you get severe bruises isn’t a fun kink that’s safe and sane. I miss back in the day when all women had the mindset of “men only care about one thing”. It was true.

Ikr women are encouraged to endanger themselves under the guise of ‘empowerment’ and ‘sexual liberation’. It is anything but

[kakushino]

Alcohol consumption HCs - Class 1-A + Shinso and Aizawa

Aight, ya girl has been tempted into talking about luxury adult items and class 1-A - specifically alcohol uwu Inspired by that one art by Hiroshiki's assistant (twitter link)

Tags: alcohol consumption, grown up class 1-A (18+) Word count: 1,1k

Note: Heavyweight scale - 1/10 = very lightweight; 10/10 = very heavyweight

Yuga won't pass up on the chance to have anything sparkly and glamorous - any shiny and colorful cocktail won't be at odds in his hand during outings. Designated barman during stay-at-home parties, just make sure he has enough embellishment ingredients. 7/10 on heavyweight scale

Mina loves ciders - dry, sweet, and anything in between. What do you mean they are a 'girly drink'? I'd like to see you outdrink her when ciders are involved... She also doesn't refuse a good cocktail if offered. 8/10 on heavyweight scale

Tsuyu can't handle much alcohol, she only ever drinks really low % liquors that are more syrup than alcohol or indulges in virgin cocktails. Dislikes the taste of beer. 2/10 on heavyweight scale

Tenya doesn't drink. He's the designated driver (you'd be surprised how many people can pile up in his car... if the police catch him with overfull car he was held at gunpoint, officer :(( ). He likes a cup of warm sake to share with his brother every now and then though. 3/10 on heavyweight scale

Ochako is the heavyweight of the group. She can put a LOT of that stuff away and STILL stand... She likes cocktails, but more of the type that has lots of different alcohols mixed in (I can say it... Long Island Ice Tea or Oolong Tea). She only seldom enjoys it though, still in her "have to save up money" mindset due to her upbringing. 10/10 on heavyweight scale, don't challenge her to a drinking game

Mashirao likes 'manly' drinks - usually sticking with beer, whisky/bourbon or rum. He's more in it for the company than the alcohol though he won't turn down a good Old Fashioned or Godfather. 8/10 on heavyweight scale

Denki loves those extra fruity cocktails, more sugar than alcohol but they do creep up on you - and do they creep up on him... Man's drunk by the end of the night at every party. 5/10 on heavyweight scale

Eijiro thinks it's manly to be honest about one's self. He's not afraid to admit he likes the taste of alcohol but it also puts him in a depressive mood. He usually keeps with low % alcoholic beverages, mostly wine (with Momo) or beer (with Izuku). 5/10 on heavyweight scale, doesn't drink much

Koji doesn't like the taste of alcohol and usually joins Tsuyu and/or Katsuki in their sober camp. Doesn't have a number on lightweight scale because he tasted liquor once and hated it with passion (stuttered his way out of drinking it)

Rikido can't drink alcohol. He technically can but only if Izuku or Katsuki are chaperoning and they're at home because the last time he drank outside, he started a bar fight and nearly got his hero license taken away (alcohol has lots of sugars which fuels his quirk). 1/10 on heavyweight scale, he's staying away from alcohol (drinks non-sugary drinks)

Mezo can spot a good rum a mile away. He loves to taste rums he hasn't tried before but also loves to enjoy his go-to aged rum collection. He was crowned the Mob Boss of Class A. 10/10 on heavyweight scale but drinks for the taste (not to get drunk)

Kyoka likes gin - whether by itself or with tonic - and is a bit of a snob about it. Only drinks if there is a brand of gin she likes, otherwise can be found drinking cola (or cola-adjacent drink). 7/10 on heavyweight scale

Hanta usually goes for whisky or bourbon. Enjoys the full taste and smokiness. Isn't picky about it. If you dislike your hard liquor drink, he'll finish it and like it too. 6/10 on heavyweight scale

Fumikage wants to love smoky whisky so bad but he dislikes the taste so much - do you see his anguish? His misery? He's the victim of recognizing culture but not being able to partake in it :(( On another note, he's good with rum or rum-adjacent liquor. 9/10 on heavyweight scale

Shoto tries really hard to like sake and soju (mostly because his father can't drink [a lie, that man just hates sake and soju]) but he hates them (shut up, it's not a trait from his father!) so he usually joins Kaminari and Yuga in Fruity Cocktail Camp. 3/10 on heavyweight scale, don't let this man have more than two cocktails or you will find him crying over cat videos

Toru is a jack of all trades, she keeps a rotation on the Camps to chat with everyone. The only drink she dislikes is wine because her stomach can't handle it. You need to put a tracker on her too because if she gets drunk, she likes to 'practice stealth' and you won't know where she ran off to. 6/10 on heavyweight scale, her drunken mischief depends on which Camp she's at for the evening

Katsuki can't drink alcohol. It makes him sick and pass out as it cancels out his immunity to the side effects of his nitroglycerin-like sweat. Alcohol mixing with his sweat in his glands create a toxic mixture. He does however enjoy virgin cocktails. Doesn't have a number on lightweight scale

Izuku likes beer of the japanese variety - if he sits down with everyone, you can find him with a bottle/glass of Asahi most of the time. 4/10 on heavyweight scale, he sips on one or two beers per evening at maximum

Minoru likes to act all cool and mysterious, and if he wasn't that short, he would actually achieve it. He's ridiculously lightweight but he can last longer by popping off his hair balls. You can find him in the Mob Camp of whisky and rum drinkers. 3/10 on heavyweight scale

Momo is a rich girl through and through. She likes high quality (and expensive) wine, but she was also dared to drink herbal liquor before and said it wasn't bad. She's usually a bring-your-own at parties and bars see her drinking virgin cocktails. 6/10 on heavyweight scale

+

Hitoshi likes staying sober (he's lightweight). No shut up, he just likes juice, okay? (everyone bands against him and mix in vodka) Why does it taste funny? (he's under the table now, gods damn it) 2/10 on heavyweight scale, another usual designated driver

Shota hides his sweet tooth pretty well (a lie - everyone can see him knocking back those jelly pouches every day) so everyone is surprised (another lie) when they see him nursing a tiki cocktail. If you see him sipping on one, no you didn't and also no one would believe you. 7/10 on heavyweight scale

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG SUB + Article Translation] Delo's Personality of the Year Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

The frontman of the band Joker Out, Bojan Cvjetićanin, is a candidate for Delo's Personality of the Year. The energetic singer and talented lyricist remains grounded despite his popularity.

Original article written by Urša Izgoršek for Delo. English translation by @kurooscoffee and a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by @flowerlotus8

All ten nominees are listed in this article.

Full article below the cut.

Delo's Personality of the Year

Bojan Cvjetićanin: They sing Slovene in Dublin because of him

PHOTO: Bojan Cvjetićanin says that his generation faces many unresolved questions that cause anxiety. PHOTO: Črt Piksi

The frontman of the band Joker Out, Bojan Cvjetićanin, is a candidate for Delo's Personality of the Year. The energetic singer and talented lyricist remains grounded despite his popularity.

With Joker Out, Cvjetićanin has achieved incredible popularity on the European music scene, surpassing any other Slovenian pop or rock band to date. They've exceeded their own dreams and broken language barriers, with fans singing along in Slovenian wherever they perform, from Dublin to Milan and Oslo. As an energetic singer and gifted songwriter, Bojan represents a voice for the young generation, which is declaring that their time is coming: The game of hatred is your thing, thank you very much, don't count on us.

The 25-year-old musician, along with his bandmates Jure Maček, Kris Guštin, Jan Peteh, and Nace Jordan, has risen to stardom in just over two years while staying firmly grounded. "Sometimes even we ask ourselves how we manage it. We talk a lot with our producer Žare Pak, who we could call our sixth member. I think I, as well as the others in the band, have normal life habits. None of us is prone to any excesses, so we don't have to hold ourselves back in that sense. I live the way I have always lived, basically," says Bojan Cvjetićanin, who recently told Vikend magazine that he is glad that sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll are not the guiding principles of their band. Joker Out is driven forward primarily by the enjoyment of performing on stage, meeting new people, and creativity.

What Bojan enjoys writing about the most is love, and he uses this emotion to describe the relationships within the group, too. "It's a partnership between five people, which is very complex. We spend a lot of time together, know each other well, and have learned when not to push certain buttons or when to offer someone a shoulder—not to cry on, but to vent." However, he also says there is nothing wrong with men showing emotions.

We briefly met with Bojan at Kino Šiška the day after returning from a concert in Zagreb and before heading to Maribor and Vienna, where Joker Out had two more sold-out concerts. That evening, when he could have taken a breather, Bojan also took the time to perform with the Police Orchestra at a concert titled Slovenia Breathes 0.0, because he likes to support causes he finds important.

One such cause was a concert aimed at improving the treatment of women with gynecological cancer. Cvjetićanin is compelling on stage and also when he talks about always adhering to the 0.0 rule behind the wheel. "My parents instilled in me the mindset that you don’t want to carry the weight of something going wrong because of one beer. I always called a taxi since I know people who have been deeply affected by the reckless actions of drunk drivers."

Life Motto: Do what you believe in, and trust the people you love.

The verse written in the introduction is from their hit 'Carpe Diem', with which they performed at Eurovision, and the song contains another meaningful thought: "We'll dance all night long/We'll love each other and play/As if we'll be gone tomorrow" Young people face an uncertain future, and Bojan says his generation has many worries due to rapid changes.

"We are confronted with many unresolved questions, more than ever before. They create unease, anxiety, and I think all of this can be felt. On the other hand, young people are treated as fully responsible global citizens, yet youth is often mentioned in a derogatory sense, as if it’s not yet our time to get involved in what's happening and we should just wait a little longer."

He never considered building a career outside Slovenia:"I always imagined a musician's life in the style of Tomi Meglič. Tomi was my alpha and omega. Only later, when I started writing in my mother tongue, Serbian, I began to think about the possibility of performing in the former Yugoslav region. As a teenager, my dreams were limited to Slovenia, and even that would've been more than enough for me," says the musician, who's grateful for the safety and many other aspects of living in Slovenia.

However, it seems that audiences abroad want to keep listening to them, and on their brand-new album 'Souvenir Pop', Bojan sings in three languages: Slovenian, Serbian, and English.

Žare Pak, producer of the band Joker Out

Žare Pak PHOTO: Jože Suhadolnik

I met Bojan Cvjetićanin five or six years ago when we were working on the song 'Gola'. For about three months, I put him through a vocal "torture", but I knew we could make something out of this boy. He is completely devoted to music, it’s in his blood, and he’s a great creator.

I see him the way most people who like him see him: he doesn’t act. He’d rather focus on discovering himself than playing a role. He's a very good person and also very intelligent. His charisma is connected to this.

Sometimes I tell him: Lucky you, whatever you do, even if it's wrong, you’ll fix it with this smile of yours. His smile is a powerful weapon. What’s amazing about Bojan is that he can make everyone feel like he has a personal relationship with them. When he’s on stage, everyone in the audience feels like he’s singing just for them. But that’s who he is. And because of people like Bojan, I’m happy to be in this profession.

[coconut-dreamz]

cornelia street

'i'd never walk cornelia street again' | tom blyth x reader

part one

a/n: i wasn't going to post a part two but i always wanted to write a story based of cornelia street and it worked so well !

you blinked a few times at his response. "you couldn't wait until morning?" you answer, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. he laughs at your comment. "maybe i should've, but i couldn't. i've missed you so much lately. i just had to talk to you." you were silent for a moment, you wondered how you had ended up here. it was just a few years ago when you first met.

we were in the backseat drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar "i rent a place on cornelia street" i say casually in the car

you and tom were in a cab headed away from the bar you had just met at. you had previously whispered into his ear between kisses, that you rented a place nearby. you were both more than tipsy and definitely not in the right mindset to be doing this. 

but that didn't matter, you might have been tipsy on the drinks you had, but you were drunk off his kisses. you gave more than the necessary amount of money to the driver as you dragged tom out of the cab and up to your apartment. 

we were a fresh page on the desk filling in the blanks as we go as if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead leading us home

you and tom were walking down the street hand in hand. you'd been seeing each other for a few weeks now. there was no official title on your relationship, you just went on dates and hung out and maybe did things further than kissing sometimes. everything about your relationship was rather spontaneous, but one thing that was constant was that you'd walk home together after every night out. walking hand in hand down cornelia street to your apartment.

and i hope i never lose you, hope it never ends  i'd never walk cornelia street again that's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend i'd never walk cornelia street again

as time went on, tom officially asked you out and you asked him to move into your apartment. things were going amazing, especially since he had just landed the role of coriolanus snow in the newest hunger games movie. you were so proud of him, you always knew that he'd be successful, he was so talented.

as tom began filming for tbosas, a strange feeling filled your stomach. you weren't sure what it was at first, but quickly realized it was jealousy when you saw him and rachel interact over a facetime call one time. you knew that if things ended between you and tom, you  might never recover. 

to you, he was your soulmate, he was the one for you. he was everything. and because of that you knew that if things ever ended, you would never be able to walk cornelia street again. it would remind you too much of tom.

and baby, i get mystified by how this city screams your name and baby, i'm so terrified of if you ever walk away i'd never walk cornelia street again

despite having lived in new york long before you had met tom, the whole city reminded you of him. everywhere you went, you'd be reminded of him. it was both a blessing and a curse for you. he was still gone for filming and you missed him dearly, so it nice to be reminded of him. but every time you thought about how he was filming, you'd be reminded of who he was filming with. rachel. she was so beautiful and so talented, of course tom would rather be with her instead of you. it would be hard to avoid cornelia street if it all were to end. 

back when we were card sharks, playing games i thought you were leading me on i packed my bags, left cornelia street

before you even knew i was gone

you'd had enough of the games you and tom were playing. all the constant fights which led to tom's indifference of your relationship. you were tired of it all. you needed to get away from it, you needed to get away from cornelia street.  you packed up your bags and arranged to stay with a friend, indefinitely. 

too bad tom had caught you as you left, which led to an awkward encounter where you told him you were leaving him and not to contact you for at least 6 weeks. in all honesty, you never expected him to contact you again after that. he seemed so checked out of your relationship lately. 

but then you called, showed your hand i turned around before i hit the tunnel sat on the roof, you and i

"love? you still there? or did you fall asleep?" tom interrupts your reminiscing. "huh? oh yeah, sorry." you answer him,  brought back to reality.  "can i see you soon? i missed you so much. can we just talk about all of this?" he pleads with you. "sure," you almost immediately agree. you'd never thought you'd hear this from him, but it was a welcome surprise. "do you want to get coffee later today? my treat, for waking you up so early. i'm on a short break from filming so i'm back in new york right now." you just hum in response. you can hear a smile in tom's voice as he gives you more details and bids you a goodnight.

you never thought you'd be walking down cornelia street again, but here you were. walking towards the cafe you and tom would always go to, way back when. tom spots you immediately when you walk in. he stands up from his seat and envelopes you in a bear hug. "i've missed you so much." he whispers into the crook of your neck. it takes a moment for you to reciprocate, surprised by the affection and his confession. "i missed you too, tom" you answer him.

you hold my hand on the street walk me back to that apartment years ago, we were just inside barefoot in the kitchen sacred new beginnings that became my religion, listen

after coffee, tom invited you to come over. it felt weird being invited to your own apartment, but you just laughed it off. you had deja vu as you walked down the street with him, hand in hand. as you looked up to the window of your apartment, you remember how you would dance around in the living room together. you remember all of your firsts together in that apartment. 

as you entered your old apartment, it looked just how you'd left it. "i couldn't bear the thought of moving anything around. i knew you'd come back so i kept it just how you like it," tom explains when he sees the look on your face. you just smile at this. "i was hoping you would."

"i rent a place on cornelia street" i say casually in the car

it had been a few weeks since you and tom started talking again. you both came to an agreement that since it was your apartment and he was still filming for the new season of billy the kid, you'd move back in and he could stay with a friend instead. you both knew it was too soon to move back in together. your relationship needed a lot of mending to be done to get to that.

tom was back once again for a short break from filming and you'd gone out to a bar with some friends. in similar fashion to when you first met, you whispered into his ear "i rent a place on cornelia street" in between kisses in a darkened hallway. he just gives you a knowing smile as you led him out the bar and hail a cab. it seemed you both would continue to walk cornelia street again.

[cressidagrey]

I just read 13/1 . I didn't know we were adding the retiered drivers as well? I was not familiar with your game. Then I must insist in Kimi Raikkonen cameo of any kind.

Also Lewis walking into group chat is beautiful. The man can pretend to be gracious and sophisticated all he wants he is going to be reduced to Lando 2.0 at this point.

I know you said Toto probably won't find out. But here me out. both Lewis and George visit the Wolffs house. The group chat exists within insane people in it. The drama writes itself. ( just my own cenario)

And the crash? Good god. For a second I didn't know what I was reading. Max is going to become an advocate of traffic laws now. He's gonna campaign against drunk driving and he is going to enforce so many rules city wide. Theam redline is going to never hear the end of it. And finally he's going to wrap Belle in bubble wrap wrom now on. He's going to take a leave of absence just to feed her soup. Jos is probably going to be there as well holding a Boquet of flowers awkwardly. Like: here. Don't die. Max will be sad. He won't win anymore.

I bet all the drivers are just gonna walk into the hospital one by one with elaborate gifts now, because max is going to be in a bad mood until Belle feels better.

Also can't wait for a interior design deep dive of all the drivers. Lewis and Ferrari are going to get a full Belle-ification.

Ps. I'm also looking at engagement rings now. Because apparently my lady brain can't tell the difference of Belle X Max and Me X some random guy. ( single as the last remaining animals of a species.) I was thinking maybe she would love something vintage, more intricate, definitely older than everyone in the room. I now need max going to a very exclusive jewelry show casing where they auction / show jewelry that were maybe worn by past kings and queens. ( I won't put it past him if he gave her an engagement ring in an Fabrogie (?) Egg)

Always love to read more and more of your wold. ❤️💕❤️

First — YES, the retired drivers are fair game now!! 😂 Kimi cameo energy is absolutely the kind of chaos the story deserved. I felt it in my soul 😂

Second — Lewis accidentally descending into Lando 2.0 because of the group chat?? He can only stay composed for so long before the drama pulls him into the madness 😌✨

Your scenario about the Wolff house visit and the group chat spilling over into real life is KILLING ME — it practically writes itself. I’m obsessed.

Also, you absolutely nailed Max's post-crash mindset. He's absolutely about to become the world's most aggressive advocate for traffic safety, drunk driving awareness, and would personally invent human bubble wrap to protect Belle 😭 And Jos with a sad, awkward bouquet??? Dead. GONE. 😂

Interior design deep dive??? YES PLEASE. Lewis’s future Belle-ified Ferrari suite would be a moment. (Though I think she'll save Lando's Streaming Room first, because that just looks like sad helmet storage.

Also, the fact that you're looking at engagement rings now??? Sobbing. Truly. 😭 Vintage-inspired, intricate, something with a personal history — you absolutely nailed what Belle would love. (And a Fabergé egg proposal?? Max would absolutely buy something absurdly historical and exclusive if it meant making her feel precious. 0 hesitation.)

Thank you for sending me this glorious chaos. It made my entire day 🫶🏻❤️ I can't wait to share more of this world with you.

[pannman]

Other Motives

Part 3

Yandere Vox x ftm delivery driver reader

Tw: toxic relationships, toxic behavior, forced relationship, power dynamic, invasion of privacy, controlling behavior, depictions of a car accident, needles, description of injuries

Things took a 180 ever since you sold your soul to Vox. He insisted on spending every spare second with you. But you no longer felt the sway of his hypnosis and no longer wanted to be around him. You did move into one of the employee apartments. And he was free to pop in as often as he felt.

There was even a camera in your living room. You expressed to Vox that made you uncomfortable but he told you it was "for your protection". You didn't believe a word of it. It was obviously so he could watch you. Over time more cameras were installed in your apartment making the only truly private place your bathroom. You were grateful for that. You even changed into your pajamas in there. You used to change in your bedroom. Whenever you went out on deliveries Vox would call you and his face would pop up on the screen in the car. One specific day he called to remind you of your dinner plans...

"Remember baby, 7 sharp at the harvest garden." He said. You tried not to cringe at the pet name and the way he said it. He noticed the lack of immediate response. "Are you sure we shouldn't just ride together? You'd think with all the driving you do, you'd kill for a break" he spoke as if you were a long time couple. You were absolutely sure you wanted some time to yourself. Driving was really the only independence you had left. You relied on Vox for practically everything. You wanted to hold on to the only sense self you had and you feared he'd take that away too. But you were relieved he seemed to respect at least SOME of your boundaries. For now anyway.

You finished your deliveries and returned to your apartment to find a polished black suit waiting for you to wear to your "date" with Vox. And after you went to the bathroom to try it on you tried not to think about how it fit so well it seemed... tailored. You got ready and tried to get yourself in the mindset. He owned your soul. There was nothing you could do to change that. It's best to comply so he doesn't make you miserable. Although you kind of already were miserable.

More miserable. You thought. You could very well be more miserable than you are now. Don't upset him. It won't do any good.

You hopped in your car. You put the coordinates into the VPS. And you drove out. You knew if you were a minute late it would not go over well but you couldn't help but drive slower trying to procrastinate being forced to have dinner with him. You noticed the clock and decided to speed up.

What you didn't notice was a drunk driver running a stop light. In seconds which felt like hours, like slow motion, you turned your head to see it barreling towards you, you attempted speed up to avoid being side smacked, you felt the impact and a wave of whiplash before blacking out

You awoke to a slightly familiar voice. You couldn't pin point where you heard it from. "You're Voxs little boy toy right?" The tall stranger in pink and drag was assessing your injuries. "Angel Dust?" You said head kind of fuzzy. "What are you doing here?" You mumbled. "Working" was all he said. Before he helped you out of your now totalled car.

You limped on out, using the spider as a crutch before he sat you down on the curb. You looked on to see the vehicle in shambles. You doubted Vox would replace it. In fact, you doubted Vox would ever let you get behind the wheel again after this. This. This was just the excuse he needed. You started to cry.

"Does it hurt? Hang in there ok." He had no idea what to do. Angel seemed almost uncomfortable at how to console you. You could understand that.

"He's never gonna let me do anything on my own ever again!" You sobbed. Angel gave a look of surprise. "You mean Vox?" You didn't get a chance to answer before the man himself showed up and budded in immediately.

"I'll take it from here Angel. Really appreciate you looking after him" Vox straightened his tie and gave Angel a serious look which was his hint to leave. Angel gave you an apologetic look but clearly wasn't ready to challenge Vox. So he simply wished you well and went away

Next thing you knew you were in the back of a car being checked for your injuries on your way to the studio to be treated. There were no hospitals in the sinner part of hell but there were medical professionals (for the right price). While in the car Vox discussed what was next.

"You really scared me." He said almost scolding you. "I don't know what I would've done if anything happened to you." Something did sort of happen to you but you were to tired too object at the moment. "I think I figured out a solution. You won't have to make deliveries anymore. You won't struggle with anything ever again. I'll pay for your testosterone, your surgeries, all of it."

You dreaded to hear what he had in mind. What could he possibly want from you that he did not already have? You got your answer and you did not like it.

"You'll come live with me. It will be just the two of us. You will never have to worry about anything." You jumped in panic and the nurse looking you over tried to calm you. You felt a rush of adrenaline suddenly kick in and your heart began to race. You couldn't communicate or form coherent thoughts as you tried to speak but it came out sounding delirious. You felt a sharp pain in your leg and looked down drowsily to see the needle before everything went dark again

You woke up in a bed... in someone else's room. Someone else's apartment. You were sure you knew whose it was. Vox sat at the edge of the bed perking up when he noticed you were awake

"How are you feeling?" He asked caressing your face. You tried to pull away but didn't have the energy to move an inch. You were too sore. "Vox?" you spoke up. "Yes" he leaned in at the sound of your voice. "Can I please just live on my own? I... I want to be independent" you thought maybe that since you were in such a state he would take pity on you. But you were wrong

"No. You're going to stay with me. I'm done with your rebellious behavior" he said coldly. This was a side of him you hadn't seen before. But then again you'd always done exactly what he wanted. Rebellious? You thought. I've been doing everything he asks.

"What are you talking about?" You questioned him confusion clear in your voice. "I didn't expect that once I owned your soul that I would no longer be able to hypnotize you. I wouldn't have taken it had I known. You were so good for me then. I would never have set you up. I would have found another way."

Set me up? You thought. Wait a minute! Your landlord.... "You did that?!?! I lost my apartment! You did that so I would... I hate you!" It was finally out. You finally lost your temper with him. He thought your behavior before was "rebellious" well you were gonna show him rebellious.

"Hate me?" He chuckled darkly "You have no idea how much you could hate me. But if I can't hypnotize you any more there's another way I could make you behave the way I want. You may hate me first but you will love me. I have an eternity to wait. Now I'll see you again soon my love... until then I would stay in bed. You wouldn't want to further injure that leg of yours" and that was the moment you noticed you couldn't feel your right leg. And you felt horribly alone as he left you to your own devices. This. This was the beginning of something truly awful

Keep an eye out for part 4

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

REWATCHING GO S1, LIVE PLAY-BY-PLAY OF DOOMSDAY WAHOO

HELLO MAGGOTS REWATCHING SEASON 1 BECAUSE THE FIRST TIME WAS A KIDNAPPING CHAOTIC MESS. EPISODE ONE HERE GOES. I DON'T REMEMBER A LOT OF DETAILS BUT YES.

Opening scene and Earth's got vibe-checked by God and I've been gaslit about the dinosaurs

GARDEN OF EDEEEEEN wow his first appearance and Aziraphale's already so prissy and flustered might fuck around and fall in love with him idk

I finally understand who these mf's are hi Hastur and Ligur you're not zombies after all

FOR FUCK'S SAKE SECOND SCENE CROWLEY'S BEEN IN AND SHE WALKED IN, SERVED HIPS HAIR AND CUNT, AND THEN MANAGED TO TALK HER AWAY INTO A PROBLEM

LIKE GENUINELY SHE COMES AND SASHAYS WITH HER HAIR AND SAYS TIMES ARE CHANGING AND HEAD OFFICE LOVES ME AND JUST INSTANTLY HASTUR AND LIGUR USE HER WORDS AGAINST HER

idk sister mary loquacious is kinda doing it for me rn with that satanic nun's habit and losergirl energy

third crowley scene and he's misplaced THE LITERALLY GODDAMNED ANTICHRIST because he made small talk with a bloke outside without checking for details

mmmmhm yes sister mary wink again your bitchless decisions are sexy y'know what i mean

Gabriel feels like his brain was eviscerated and replaced with one of those youtuber's paid course promos at the end of their how to change your life in 45 days: three simple mindset shifts video

so THIS IS WHY EVERYONE KEEPS SAYING PAVLOVIAN IN THIS FANDOM IT'S BECAUSE OF DUCKS of course it's because of ducks

mmmhm yes sure crepes French revolu--Crowley stop eye-fucking Aziraphale you're making everyone at the Ritz horny

Aziraphale don't moan into your food man you can't take these two anywhere

Crowley thanking the driver for slowing down is everything to me

And they're drunk hu-fucking-zzah good thing we'll have 11 year olds saving the world coz these fuckers sure ain't doing shit

OH MY GOD HE WAS TRYING TO SAY BOUILLABAISSE I JUST REALISED. I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST MAKING KISSY FACES AT AZIRAPHALE I'M NOT OK-

What Aziraphale was doing back was definitely kissy faces though that mfer wasn't even trying to say bouillabaisse when Crowley said what sounded suspiciously like baby

kissy kissy from lil miss prissy [i would have made such a great high school bully shame i had no inclinations that way]

SORRY WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT SOBERING UP EXCUSE ME THE FANFICS MADE IT SOUND LIKE IT WAS A CLICK AND THEY'RE SUDDENLY NORMAL WHY IS THE ALCOHOL REFILLING

oop nun down nun down

i want ya see a wile ya thwart amirite on a t-shirt

"actually i encourage humans to-" just say you're a lazy bitch azi we love you

love crowley fake-manipulating azi into helping like azi wants to be manipulated y'know so it's not technically his fault he was wiled over or whatever and they're both just such ENABLERS

not azi going SOFT at being godfathers with crowley

NOT BROTHER FRANCIS PLEASE NO FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SACRED AZI WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS PLEASE

WARLOCKKKKK I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

HNNNG MICHAEL SHEEN HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

why is nanny ashtoreth so seductive with that of course dear is it just crowley's inherent disastergirl sex appeal

HALF PONYTAIL CROWLEY I AM A FUCKING SLUT FOR HALF PONYTAIL

GASLIGHTING HEAVEN AND HELL THAT'S MY BABYGIRLS

erIC THE DISPOSABLE DEMON I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COME IN S1 well not come i hope unless being eaten by a hellho--nope

ANGEL CROWLEY SAID ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL

CROWLEY TRYING TO BE SUBTLE ABOUT KILLING BEFORE GETTING ANNOYED

waiter crOWLEY OUTFIT I CANNOT BE NORMAL AFTER THE WEDDING DRESS DESIGNING ABOUT THIS COSTUME

FOOLS WRONG BOY YOU FOOLS IM DEAD

DOG IS UNIRONICALLY SO CUTE EVEN BEFORE IT GOES SMOL

gonna give my roxie a kissy brb she's my angel and all this dog talk makes me miss her (she's a few feet away under the bed)

i asked her for a kissy and she crawled out and gave me a kiss i love her

DOGGGGG ADAMMM

...roxie's crying to be taken downstairs it's nearly 2 am this is on me for waking her up i crowley'd myself fml

EYYYYY WELCOME TO THE END TIMES don't mind me I'll have to take roxie down yes I know maggots I'm crowley-coded I KNOW THAT I'M A BLOODY DISASTER BYEEEEEEEE

[not-goldy]

I just want to be honest and speak without being emotional and biased towards bts , like yg have the opportunity to go to his home everyday and I'm sure he can work on his music from home and do the military duty as office job while the other boys especially jm jk and jin really being living in nowhere they can't even breath freely they working their ass off to go through that fouking serving shit , and still he managed to ruin it for himself he could have a 100 drivers and they could drive him home with the most expensive cars or go with taxi but he himself make the decision the media maybe take it to far but this what media do all over the world , army love to always make it like kmedia do it just for bts but this is what they do for everyone like I remember not so long they make a big deal of gdragon being drunk even though his tests was clean and they bring him to court and in the end he was really clean , yg going to the police station is not the big deal that army claims , he did wrong while he is serving and they question his behaviour and thats it , they should keep it Low and doesn't give it to much attention instead of cutting k media including jin up coming shows !!!! Like how they work !! jin working on this shows since the day he discharged and now army want to sacrifices His work for another member's bad decision while hyping western media that just last month have being shady towards jm and they have always been shady towards bts , dropping jm music and using his funds for useless movement , I just want army for once to forget their own prideful mindset and just shut up

I don't think you're saying this because you hate Yoongi. If you do my BS detector isn't picking it up.

And I understand your point of view and where you're coming from.

I just want to say Yoongi isn't doing his service this way because he is privileged. He was injured had surgery and couldn't go through that rigorous harsh system the others are going through.

Jin is brave and strong for conquering that and moving on with his life. Now the government has nothing on him.

The others will be free eventually too.

I think Yoongi should have been exempted all together. Jimin has chronic back pains and BTS as a group deserved an exemption.

Personally I think the laws in Korea are too strict and paternalistic but that's besides the point.

As for Army, I think they are doing what any Fandom would do- support and attack and defend. How big this thing gets, how much people speak against it, how much media attention and international attention it gets can either help or hurt his situation.

If they aren't being fair to him it shall be met with such worldwide condemnation it will push foreskin off dicks. That's the power of Army and the beauty of having amassed such following.

It would be strange if the Fandom went silent and watched this whole thing unfold don't you think??

People are just worried about him that's all. I'm actually worried too cos I feel this whole hing has been blown out of proportion. Any person in that situation perhaps would have been slapped with a warning but like you said because I a kpop idol and a member of BTS people wanna scapegoat him.

People want to humiliate BTS so bad they want humble them and some higher ups want a leash around their neck and will go after them for anything.

And they are falling out of favor with the sky man thems so if I feel they should all be careful how they move.

I know he screwed up, didn't think this whole situation will escalate but I also feel he is prepared to face the law. Actually, you know what? I'm gonna go ahead and research the law on this to understand the situation much better cause I'm hating this every second I write about it.

I think falling off a scooter in front of his own apartment when he wasn't even driving on the road and putting his life and the other's life at risk- is crazy how far this whole thing has gotten. Crazy

Just hope he is doing alright and is prepared mentally for all of this cos from his pov it would seem like everything he has spent his entire career to build is coming crashing i hate it here

[darksturnioloqueen]

Mortician!Matt x Mortician!Mave ⚰️

Susan

**Mortician!Matt is apart of the Cannibal!Chris Fic Series, his Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. His Fic Series will have moments of cannibalism.** Mortician!Matt writings are STAND ALONE unless posted in line with The Taste Of Guilt chapters**

Mortician - an undertaker

Undertaker :

un·der·tak·er /ˈəndərˌtākər/ noun A person whose business is preparing dead bodies for burial or cremation and making arrangements for funerals.

Please Read At Your Own Risk.

⚠︎Trigger Warning: Mortician!Matt mortician-ing, talk of murder, crying, talk of the following: drunk driving, killing a mother, child without a parent, multiple mentions of death in various ways, slab of meat comparison, anxiety, hints at needing to eat people, God comparison, abandonment, tension, infection/illness talk, dressing dead body, makeup on dead body. ⚠︎

Someway, somehow, he secured the job. He was now stuck doing this every day for what felt like the rest of his life—being a mortician. Matt knew this was the best option. He had several pros and cons lists made up, and the number one reason being a mortician was winning was because neither he nor Chris had to murder anyone. Thankfully, they had made it to this point, avoiding that option. Matt knew Chris held a lot of guilt inside, but he wasn't a murderer, and that meant something. Right?

"Matt, I'll need you to read over this and head to the basement. Mavora is already downstairs." Matt grabbed the singular paper and looked at it. It was a request form. From his first few days working here, Matt had already learned more about being a mortician than school taught him.

The first thing he learned was emotional strength. He spent the first hour of his first day in the bathroom crying. The woman they were working on was only 32. A drunk driver killed her. She died by shielding her six-year-old son from the car strike. It was their job to make her look nice. But how can you focus on something so superficial, knowing a little boy was now forced to grow up without his mother because of someone else's recklessness? Mavora handled that one primarily by herself. Matt wanted to help, but he couldn't leave the bathroom.

The second thing he learned about working here was how normal death was for everyone else who worked in the funeral home. Mavora in particular. She was able to talk about dead bodies with such ease. He had no understanding of it. James was so casual when explaining we had another dead person coming in the next day. It baffled Matt to see them working around the clock so casually.

The third thing he learned was today.

He read the request sheet as he walked down the creepy cement stairs. The funeral home was beautiful, always full of flowers and golden chandeliers. When he opened one door, the one to the basement, it looked like he was walking down the stairs to a world Tim Burton had created. The air was stiff and cold. The light shifted from a golden shade to a dim fake fluorescent with a dreary overhang. Mavora herself looked like a Tim Burton caricature—a little more hot, though.

"Oh, thanks. I've been needing that." She spun around, flicking her black hair, and snatched the paper from him. He avoided looking at the human on the table, which resembled a slab of meat. He was caught between his mindset and his brother's, the cannibal. He saw an actual human who used to have a life. But he knew he had to force himself to think like Chris. This person was Chris' means to live.

Not that Matt thought highly enough of himself to believe this, but sometimes he wondered why he was given the position of God to decide whether Chris should live or die. He hated himself for thinking it, but occasionally, envying Nick for leaving, he wished Chris had died. He wished he could live an everyday life, too. "Scrub up." Mavora instructed.

He grabbed a disposable gown and put it on over his clothes. Mavora was the girl he saw after having his mini meltdown. There was a weird thickness to the air when they were together working, but neither one of them wanted to address it. Matt washed his hands and put on his gloves. Being clean was for their protection. Working with after-death bodies subjected them to possible infections and illnesses.

"Do you think you can handle putting Susan in her clothes?" Matt cringed. He hated knowing their names. It was like naming a stray cat. As soon as you associate it with a name, you become emotionally attached. Matt, of course, didn't have an emotional attachment to dead bodies; he just became emotionally invested in their lives before death, making it more complicated.

"Yeah." He sighed out.

"Here, I'll help." Mavora was always good at sensing when her coworkers needed assistance or breaks. She quickly picked up on Matt's apprehension on his first day and second and third days. She was always biting her tongue when she was around him. She wanted to know his outburst but knew it wasn't her place to ask. She always found it funny that he wanted to be a mortician but hated touching the cadavers. She watched him cringe while moving their arms and legs to put on clothes. She noticed him gagging when brushing their hair, and their heads shifted because of a knot. She always got a giggle out of it.

Together, they lifted Susan, and Mavora held her while Matt slowly wrapped the tee shirt around her head. It was a signed Matchbox Twenty shirt. They were her favorite band. When Matt had her arms through the shirt holes, he bowed out, and Mavora had to straighten her up. "Nice and easy, girl," Mavora whispered as she rested Susan's head back on the cold silver table with an uncomfortable thud. Dead bodies had some extra weight to them due to the embalming fluid. Matt watched Mavora most of the time. He only volunteered to do anything when he thought it was the perfect opportunity to get meat for Chris. Matt shuddered, thinking about it. His anxiety was rising. "Need a minute?" Mavora asked.

"I'm fine. Thanks, though." Matt paused for a second to breathe. "Mavora?"

"Mave." She corrected him softly.

"Sorry, Mave." He smiled small, feeling his stomach turn. "How do you do this so... casually?" Matt finally got the courage to ask her.

"I've been a mortician for a while. I started early, so it just doesn't affect me, I guess." She buzzed around the basement, grabbing makeup tools and a few sharper ones for posing. She was also reading the request sheet carefully. Matt wanted to say more but wasn't sure what more could even be said. "Alrighty, Susan. Let's get this cat-eye on you." She grabbed the eyeliner stick and walked over to her body.

"Why do you do that?" Matt sat back and watched Mave sit on a stool to be closer to the dead face in front of her. She glanced up at him with a confused expression.

"Do what?" Mave asked.

"You know... tell them what's going on and like talk to them... and stuff?" Matt wasn't sure how to sound curious without sounding rude.

"Matt, just because they are dead doesn't mean they don't deserve respect." And there it was. The third thing he learned. She smiled at him and then looked down at Susan to start her eye makeup. Matt watched her slowly start applying the black liquid ever so carefully. He watched Mave the whole time. It was there, and then he realized Mave was a special person. He never knew what would become of his life with Chris, but one thing he was sure of was that he was glad it had led him to Mave.

Mortician!Matt and Mortician!Mave⚰️ will be run more like an AU versus a Fic Series. They will be a vital part in Cannibal!Chris Fic Series (The Taste Of Guilt)

I will take requests for them and such. Anything I write for them that is requested will NOT tie in to The Taste Of Guilt. (This story line is predetermined)

[frankfortkentucky]

“Not All Men”

I hate when people say “not all men,” because obviously we know that it would be a terrible generalization of a very diverse demographic that takes up half of the world’s population. But all women are terrible drivers, all women know how to cook and clean, all women are emotional, all women are physically weaker. But of course “not all men.”

Its “not all men,” so when a man sees woman calling other men out for disturbing behavior, he only needs to remember “not all men.” Of course, *he* isn’t one of them. Even if he does catcall the occasional hottie, keeps pestering a woman until she finally gives her number only to be disappointed because she “typed it in wrong,” waits until a women is drunk before convincing her to come back to his place, interrupts his woman colleges or superior because “he knows better.” But not all men, so he doesn’t have to worry about it, he’s not like that. He’s one of the good ones.

“Not all men” help to make men secure in the knowledge that it “couldn’t be him” because he’s never sa’d a woman before.

And mayybbbeee (BIG ASS MAYBE, ALL MEN ALWAYS HAVE BEEN PART OF THE PROBLEM, JUST BY BEING MEN IN A PATRIARCHAL WORLD) it might be “not all men,” but it *is* EVERY woman. Even if not all woman have been physically assaulted, EVERY woman has been victimized by rape culture, or by “boys being boys,” or by being told at 5 years old to “cover up” because they’re wearing a tank top, or by the “he bullies you because he likes you” mindset setting them up later for learning that abuse means love. Every woman has had at least one experience like this. EVERY WOMAN HAS BEEN A VICTIM OF MEN, EVEN IF “NOT ALL MEN” HAVE MADE A WOMAN ONE.

[chiquititaosita]

hange y novia de mexicana

synopsis: Hange and a mexicana novia headcanons part 2

Osita note: hange is given gender neutral pronouns, mentions of erueri (idk how to say it lmao), Mexican culture, Mexican slang, also some baddie shit lol A LITTLE BIT OF NSFW(car sex, food play), generational trauma. Tias being exposed.

It’s their funeral again, but anyways here’s my lovely moots tag list @emomanswhore @roronoaswifey @roronoacherries @sanjis-all-blue @sanjisblackasswife @euphofic @noawithlove @luffyinlove @hqkalon @yourrfavzxri @abbyslev @hangespublicist @hangeslovers-world @azelmawrites @jujuyii @honeybleed @backwzzds @neptunes1nterweb @theemrsjaeger @chrollohearttags @cottonconnielvr @ginger4sugar @mommypieck @usopps-devotee @punktastics @kazushawty @etherealxmaya @forever-rogue @prncssmimi

- y/n is majorly a chismosa and so is hange

- they’re gonna fuck you the minute y’all leave from having dinner with your family in their damn car. “Does that feel good??” They’re gonna whisper in your ear as they’re in the drivers seat rubbing your clit as you nod whimpering yes.

- always touching your thighs!! NO REASON

- loves your kisses, and they love your physical touch. Always craving to touch you and to be close to you.

-they buy you pan dulce every time you come over. Because they know how much you crave for it.

- “hey!! I have this for you!!” They give you a bag of flaming hot cheetos with lime, slices in a bag. When you’re on your period. you just fry and hug them!!

- “hey do you wanna come over??”

- “I cant.”

-“why??”

-“my mom said I went out already three times today.” Which is translating that you need to come over this time. And they do.

-hange would be sooo confused the first time their gf says that but they get the hang of stuff quickly fs 😭

- when you do your thing and holding Hanges hand it’s adorable like yes. “Idc if we’re going out we’re holding hands the whole. damn. Time.”

-“that’s fine by me!-“ Hange is literally such a happy partner fr. They just love to be around you.

-Hange learns to keep extra grocery bags, when you notice this you’re like.. 😀😀

-“where did my partner go!?” You’re shook and pretty sure hallucinating.

-the minute at a carne asada when a new baby is born EVERYONES taking the baby. Even HANGE

-“mija when are you and Hange getting married?” hange tried to answer as they get cut off by y/ns tias.

-“CALLATE PUTAAAA!!” A drunk hange would say, when you’re out of the carne asada!! Walking into the car.

-“y/n don’t worry it’s okay.” Hange doesnt need you to stand up for themselves, but because it’s your family, if they misgendered hange on purpose you’re going a-wall on them

-“ no!! I am not letting you get disrespected! I have had enough of their bullshit and listened to them for TEN YEARS” You’d be pissed and established a fucking boundary between a group of your tias about hange and yourself as a couple, in general because those tias criticize every fucking thing.the minute they try to pick you up to calm down.

-you told and gave them that Latina stare. “Sit down.” They sat down instantly with your dad as they both cracked open a beer.

-“That’s why you can’t keep a man!! Because you got La pescado panocha!! You’re an alcoholic who has severe daddy issues, And you!! YOU DONT EVEN HAVE YOUR FUCKING PAPERS!! YOU FUCKING BORDER HOPPER HOMIE HOPPING ASS COCHINA!!”. They left within five minutes.

-“AND COME BACK WHEN YOU CAN HAVE PROPER ENGLISH!!” Hange just sits there and actually felt thankful that you didn’t have to do that but they are thankful. You’re a short chihuahua with a 6’5 Great Dane mindset.

- they obviously eat the FUCK OUT OF POZOLE!!

- and they love your cooking. “Oh mah god..” they’ll cover their mouth when they taste nopales for the very first time and they’re in love.

-even eating ramen noodles the Mexican way with tapatío or Valentina, lime juice and chilé powder. Mhm yummyyy!!

-now if you and Hange are in the car. You’re screaming in the car. They’re screaming bad bunny with you. Because yes!

-now when y’all live together. You’re the clingiest mf out there.

-“it’s bc of that chorizo!!!” Hange didn’t even know what that meant until they asked Connie, which instantly clicked into Hanges mind being the strap on!! ding ding ding!!’

-always satisfies your period cravings fr.

-“y/n HOW ARE YOU NOT BALD!?!?” This is Hange saying this as they get out of the shower using the drainage hair catcher and yes HISPANICS SHED A LOT OF FUCKING HAIR.

-“I don’t know genetics I guess.”

- sucks the chamoy and tajin off your Chi Chis

-when you told hange you eat pomegranates with tajin and chamoy They’re in shock. They’re gonna get you pregnant for sure!

-parent hange with mexicana mommy reader coming soon??!!?

- cooking with hange is intimate as well, because they’re always hugging you from behind leaving small kisses and love bites all over to label you as theirs.

- even hange drinking an agua fresca,their favorite would be mango for sure.

-even the grapefruit soda squirt they’re gonna buy so many cans of it.

- hange gets the hang of it, when going to a carne asada that Mexicans open their beers or soda bottles with just about ANYTHING AND EVERHTHING! from a kids toy to someone’s ass, or even a chair. It’s very rare to use a bottle opener. That’s what Hange brings a knife and a bottle opener.

-they love your Spanglish or. “AHH SANNAOFABISSHH!”

-they eat the chicken and cheese quesadillas you make in the fridge as a late night snack by reheating them in the microwave.

-one day you were sick and you wanted caldo de res . This mf called your abuela and ASKED THEM HOW TO MAKE IT EXACTLY AS IF ABUELA WAS THERE.

-“You made it for mee???” You’re tearing up with the rice and corn inside of the soup bowl along with the chicken. As you were on your period crying

-Now Hanges spice tolerance is manageable. But when you make them have anything they’ll slowly become immune to spicy things and love it. (They’re not spice god on tiktok okay.) but they’re an enthusiast.

-absolutely loves to spend time with you even if you’re always at home. They don’t care they’ll bring the fun to you!

-that’s why when y’all build blanket forts sometimes it heals both of your inner child together

-this also includes going to the grocery store at 3 o’clock in the morning to try some Mexican tiktok snacks or to have a day and y’all treat y’all’s selves on date night.

-and they kiss your lonjas (tummy rolls, this includes stretch marks and lunares)

-“dame un beso.” You’ll tell them and they’ll do it as you lean in. “Did you say give me a kiss?”