#dude they’re all losers

[kavehater]

“In general I find the idea of being with a man disgusting but I don’t find it disgusting with him”

- spoken by a lesbian

[kurobachisagi]

god fushi is so fucking funny sometimes like he’s tasked with deleting photos off a computer. cannot for the life of him figure out how, so what’s the next logical conclusion he comes to? throw the computer into the ocean. does not even consider for one second that maybe he could ask someone for help

[tariah23]

He apparently has 2 kids with 2 different women and doesn't take care of either of them

Women, I will protect you-

[chewwytwee]

It’s so hard to become un-annoyed at unfunny losers so every day in jazz band is a test of my patience, one of these days I’m going to explode

[macdenlover]

not macdennis queerbait discourse on my dash in 2022

[danmori630]

i’m genuinely starting to believe everyone on bluesky has either at least 50 contributions on github or at least 2 credits on imdb.

[filmcel]

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP THE SCENE WASNT ABOUT “MAKING HER PRETTIER” IT WAS ABOUT ALLOWING HER TO CONNECT TO THE OTHER CHARACTERS SPECIFICALLY CLAIRE KYYYSSSS

[julietsbody]

romeo meets juliet — luke castellan x reader : chess can be played in many different situations. 

tags : 18+!! loser!luke (hes actually such a loser im sorry), college setting, brothers best friend!luke, mutual pining, religious imagery(?), classic literature references, body worship, smut, luke is pathetically in love 

a/n : save me nerdy boy with sad eyes save me

luke didn’t acknowledge your existence at first, he stuck to himself, from his classes, to his dorm, maybe even the lunchroom if his roomate, your brother, convinced him to come rather than just making all of his meals in the dorm. luke and your brother were complete opposites, luke was studying literature, mostly classic,  he didn’t speak to many people unless forced to— and your brother was studying engineering, which also basically required him to join a frat, and he spoke to nearly everyone with cockiness prominent in his tone. 

one thing they did have in common, though, was chess. 

now, your brother could never tell anyone, especially not his frat brothers, that he played chess, let alone was in the university’s chess club— but he felt pity for luke, most of the time luke played by himself, which was somehow equally as frustrating as having to play against someone else. 

the only people that knew about your brother playing chess was luke, the chess club, and you. 

luke remembers the first time you came trotting in to the dorm, complaining to your brother about some argument you had with your parents about how your friends are distracting you from your studies. your brother only rolls his eyes, barely listening to your non - stop whining about how it’s ridiculous, “i mean— you’re the one in a frat! why aren’t they mad at you?” 

“because i actually do my work,” he mumbles, and luke breathes out in a silent laugh, moving a piece on his chess board. 

“you’re in engineering, you don’t even have any actual work,” you frown, and albeit the fact that you’re wrong, you’re still confident in what you said. 

“are you stu— whatever,” your brother waves you off, deciding to change the subject when he motions to luke, the boy in a nirvana t-shirt, currently moving to a different side of the chess board as he plays against himself, “this is luke, my roommate, obviously.” 

luke immediately freezes, fingers curling around the chess piece he was adjusting to move— his eyes are wide, and they’re moving to look at you, only to immediately flicker to some other part of the room when they meet your expectant gaze. since he won’t speak first, you pick up the slack, “hey, luke.” 

your brother notices how luke looks like a scared, lost puppy even by the slightest implication of having to speak to a woman, let alone be perceived by one, so he moves to whisper in your ear, “he’s like, deathly afraid of women, i’ve never seen him speak to one, ever.” 

and you from that you don’t expect a response from luke, until he mumbles a short, “hi.” 

that’s when your head tilts, noticing the way his curls fall over his brows messily, like he doesn’t pay attention to styling it, or maybe it’s on purpose, maybe he pays too much attention to styling it. the way he wore something so simple, yet so telling about himself, the way he awkwardly places the chess piece back on the board on the spot he wanted to. he assumes the conversation is over, so he moves to the opposite side of the board to make a move against his own. 

“are you in the chess club?” you take a step closer, and he perks up, hand ghosting over the piece once more. 

luke doesn’t say anything, his lips twitch around words that don’t come out. your brother speaks in his place, “he’s the president, he’s a fucking grandmaster.”

luke just awkwardly laughs, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes moving from the board to you, then to your brother, “i’m not like— actually the president,” another awkward, short chuckle, “i just— like.. um.. play a lot, i guess.” 

“you are the president, dude,” your brother corrects, being insufferable as he always is. 

but luke puts up with it, then you ask another question, “what do you major in?” 

“literature,” luke responds for himself this time, finally able to move his hand to make a proper move on the chess board, before mumbling, “mostly classic.” 

“you’re kidding, i am too, how have i not seen you before?” 

luke’s eyes finally meet yours, now, pausing on your eyes, then resuming down the shape of your face, memorizing each feature, the curve of your lashes, the shape of your lips— he swallows thickly. 

“i just— sit in the back.. and go to my dorm— as soon as class ends,” there’s that awkward, short chuckle again. 

“have you finished the paper?” 

luke nods, and that’s when your brother finally gets a bright idea. 

“you should help her, luke, with the work.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

that’s how it all started, with a simple suggestion, that’s when you came to the dorm more often, when he began to notice that you were actually in his classes, and when you realized he had an awful staring problem. he thought he was slick with it too, letting his eyes move around the room for a mere.. twenty seconds before they finally snap to you, and from there, they stay, until you finally return the gaze and he’s immediately nervously looking away. 

he hardly speaks to you, unless your brother urges him to, and he’s always avoiding looking at you when he speaks, stumbling over words, pausing in sentences to catch his losing breath. he was a complete and utter loser, terrible when it came to socializing, even worse when it’s with girls. with you, it somehow seemed to worsen. 

“am i the first girl you’ve ever talked to?” you ask once, far too blunt for your own liking, you didn’t mean to really say it, it kind of just came out when seeing how much his leg bounced under the table with nervousness, nearly sweating himself to death under your gaze. 

sweat beads down his temple when his eyes flutter up to meet yours, moving from the romeo and juliet book in his hands. isn’t it so ironic that he had just gotten done reading the scene in which romeo says, “did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! for i ne'er saw true beauty till this night,” when seeing juliet for the first time? truly, it isn’t the first time he saw you, but it’s night, and you are beautiful. truly, utterly, “beautiful.” 

“what?” 

oh, oh my god. saliva bubbles in his mouth, sour saliva, and he gulps it down, hoping it would somehow be a form of poison that would wake him from this nightmare. does he say what he meant? that he was thinking out loud? that he thinks you’re beautiful? or should he deny it? deny. he bursts into awkward laughs, “what— what do you mean— i.. i didn’t even say anything.. ha, haha.” 

“why are you acting like that?” your brows furrow. 

“like what?” 

“like you’re hiding something.” 

his breathing only shakes anymore, “i’m not hiding anything.. that’s like— a wild accusation.” 

“it’s not an accusation, i’m just saying,” you frown at him. 

his adam’s apple bobs with another swallow, “okay but like—“ 

“why are you harassing him?” your brother sighs, tired how much you press luke. 

“i’m not— whatever, i was asking you— am i the first girl you’ve ever spoken to?” 

your brother barks out a laugh, and luke’s eyes fall back down to the book in his hands. did not having proper conversations with women make him any less? romeo grabbed juliet’s hand once, and the first words he uttered to her was a promise to redeem himself if his hand was too unworthy to be touching her holy one. parallels sear in his mind, and he just mumbles a, “not really.” 

he has spoken to women before, sure, small greetings, maybe even the slightest indulgence of conversation— but luke keeps to himself, and to be honest, he was a man used to running from women, as he did from his mother. he grew up being afraid of women, well, afraid isn’t the proper word, intimidated is better, and he just decided to avoid them as much as possible. 

though, no matter how much he tries to avoid you, you’re always there, in his sight, in his mind. maybe it’s a disgrace, like romeo holding juliet’s hand, for him to even be thinking of you, looking at you— you were a goddess that offered a man on his knees the slightest bit of your grace, and now he was hooked. 

it was pathetic, really, how he anticipated every time he suspected you would be over, how his eyes always found their way to you in class, how he made sure to purposefully walk past you in the lunchroom on the days he went, which was oddly more now. 

a man who is still a virgin to adore a girl far too good for him, he is hopeless. 

“it’s okay if i am,” you adjust, okay, there might be a little hope, “anyway, how do you like romeo and juliet?” 

“it’s pretty nice—“ he notices the way your face perks up in shock, “kind of, i don’t know.” 

“i think it’s a bore, i’m sure the movie is much better.” 

“we should watch the movie— um.. together, sometime.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

if luke was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t entirely mean to say it, and as soon as you left the dorm, he nearly doubled over with shock at his own words, and even more shock at the fact that you agreed. not only did you agree, you actually came, and it was just you and him. your brother was off at some frat party, again, and he had left luke completely alone with you, even when luke begged him not to. 

“you’re kidding, dude, i’m like— horrified of her,” luke frowns at your brother. 

“you need exposure therapy, or some shit, call me your therapist.” 

“you’re a shit therapist,” luke sighs, rubbing his temples. 

“and you need to grow some balls.” 

so, your brother left him, and now luke’s awkwardly standing with you at his door - step, staring at him expectantly, his lips twitch around so many possible words, possible sentences, and all that comes out is, “hey.” 

he’s been staring for you for at least a minute, and all he can say is hey. your lips curve to an amused smile, “hi, luke.” 

“um— you can come in, if you.. want, ‘course.” he moves out the way to let you in, watching you step past him so he can close the door. 

“i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to,” you remark as if it’s the obvious, mostly because it is. 

when romeo stood underneath juliet’s balcony, he praised how captivating she was, considers her as glorious as an angel, a winged messenger above his head. in his own words : 

“one who makes mortals fall onto their backs to gaze up in awe as the angel strides across the clouds and sails through the air.”

consider luke on his back now, staring up at the stars in your eyes, the halo that shines above your head, the wings that flap with every stride you make— a goddess, an angel, venus incarnate, right before his eyes, staring at him like he had something deeply wrong with him. wait. he blinks a few times, and his eyes refocus onto your confused face. 

“are you okay, luke?” 

he quickly clears his throat, “yeah, yeah— duh, ‘course i am, uh.. we should,” he moves to the table in which his laptop was on, “watch the movie, yeah? ‘ts on my.. laptop, if you don’t mind.” 

“i don’t, at all,” you move to sit next to him on the couch in front of the table, watching the veins in his hands pulse, palms sweaty when he moves to open his laptop, shifting a few tabs and pressing a few keys until he mumbles a small okay and presses the space button. 

moaning. that’s all you hear, the sound of skin slapping, ah ah— oh fuck mmph you’re so b— luke slams the laptop shut. 

dear god, save him now. 

he can’t even bring himself to look at you, the sweat on his palms only worsens and spreads onto the top of the laptop as he smoothes his hands across it, replaying the scene a million times in his mind. to his surprise, you giggle, “you watch porn?” 

he’s quick to awkwardly scoff out a short laugh, “yeah— i mean, everyone does.. but like.. i don’t watch it— that much.” 

your finger moves to run along the vein on his arm, feeling him shudder under your touch, yet he doesn’t want you to stop, even the slightest touch makes his dick twitch in his pants, “are you a virgin, luke?” 

he inhales sharply, “y-yeah..” 

“do you want to have sex?” you lean the tiniest bit closer. 

he pauses, “yes.. of course—“ 

“with me?” 

“yes.” he responds quick, too fucking quick, it must’ve been at most a second after you said it for him to respond. the truth stings his tongue, to finally be able to say it out loud, how much he had fantasized about you in the late of night, even sneaking off to the bathrooms so his hand can dip underneath his waistband when he thinks about the times you’ve worn a tight shirt that frames your tits far too well. 

but it was wrong, wasn’t it? you were a goddess, on a pedestal, and he was merely just a man, staring up at your statue in the hopes that you would notice him one day. forbidden, possibly, but all those thoughts leave his mind when his eyes move from the finger tracing up his bicep to your neck, then your lips, then your eyes. 

“please tell me you’ve kissed before.” 

“yeah.. yeah— i have,” a playground kiss counts, right?

it seems to when your lips fall against his own, the kiss was so gentle, until he dared to kiss you back, then it got hungry, mostly on his end. he kissed you like a starving man, nearly devouring you but at the same time, being horrified to. your tongue finds it’s way into his mouth, and to your surprise, he whimpers against your lips.

his hands are hesitant, unsure of where to go, does he touch your arm? your shoulder? your waist? he doesn’t want to push anything, so the waist seems far too much, his hands awkwardly place themselves on your arm, in a very weird position. 

“have you touched a girl before?” 

his lips are flushed from the kiss, eyes glazing over the position of his hands, and he quickly moves them off, “sorry— well, i just.. um.. didn’t want to push anything.” 

“you can,” you reassure, but his hands still hesitate, the flesh of a goddess, to be touched by someone so inexperienced. was he really worth it? any of it? to even be in your presence was a blessing, and it was still taking him forever to register the fact that you had actually kissed him, prayers passed through your lips into his. 

“are you sure?” 

“‘course i am.” 

it still took luke some getting used to, having you straddle his lap, you knew so much, it felt like more than just an honor to have you so close to him. his eyes flicked from your own to your lips, then to your tits, the low v - cut showing off your cleavage perfectly. and he looked like a complete deer in headlights, staring at the flesh pushed together between the window of clothing. you smile at his lack of self control, feeling the way his dick throbs underneath his pants, right against your ass, “you can touch them.” 

“wha— nono, ‘ts okay— i just..” he trails off, sweaty palms moving past you to slide across his knees. 

“really, luke, you can— why don’t i just..” you move to take off your shirt, his eyes immediately catching on to the lace of your bra, the way your tits are practically spilling out of it, all until you take off your bra as well and they immediately fall out. 

his hand twitches around nothing, desperately wondering what it must feel like to have your flesh underneath his palm, fingers curling around the plush of it. it seems you must’ve heard his prayers when you move to take his hands, pulling them back to press against your tits. 

soft, that’s his first thought, sweat sticks to your skin when his fingers curve around the flesh, gripping it ever so gently. praises spill from his lips almost immediately, thoughts he had since the day he saw you, finally being spoken, “y’re beautiful— fuck, i’ve always.. always wanted to— do this..” 

you smile so sweet at him, nectar nearly drips off your teeth, “can i ride you, luke?” 

his eyes finally meet yours, brows furrowing for a mere second, “huh— oh, oh.. yeah, ‘course you can.” 

you didn’t expect him to have a big, no matter how cruel that sounds, you had heard rumors of nerds with big dicks, but sought to never believe it until you saw it, and good fucking lord you saw it. as soon as his dick springs out from the pants and boxers you were tugging down, luke’s hands mindlessly moved to your waist, your eyes widen. 

no fucking way. he has to be.. six? seven inches, at least. slightly girthy too, he wasn’t all just length, and precum was beading from his red tip. he immediately inhales sharply when your fingers graze his dick, nervous under your gaze, “is it too small— i.. i’m sorry—“ 

“too small?” you scoff playfully at his scared expression, worried of what you think, “this might be the biggest dick i’ve ever seen, luke.” 

“that’s— a good thing.. right?” 

“obviously, god, it better fit,” this is the first time you’ve ever been concerned about whether or not a dick will fit, luke stiffens when you spit on your palm, pressing it to his dick and wettening it as you jerk him off, his response is immediate, carefully gripping at your skin and pressing his lips together to muffle his whimpers. 

luke had jerked of many, many times, but it never felt as good as this. 

“fuck—“ he grunts out, already far too close from just a simple hand movements. 

you immediately stop, picking up on his nearing orgasm from the way his hips kept bucking up into your hands, pathetic whines slipping past his lips, but it was just so cute. the cutest thing, though, was his face when he got the first look at your vagina, he looked like a man staring at a piece of art he had admired. and this was art, sex was, you were, everything about you, it felt so sacred. 

his lashes flutter when you take his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, allowing him to feel the wetness that was nearly pouring from you. like nectar from a fountain, it coated his fingertips when he touched you, his eyes focused onto your face, making sure that he was doing it right. he notices the way you gasp when his fingertips brush against your clit, so he presses against it again, and again. 

he follows everything he has seen in pornos, spreading your folds, fingers grazing past your entrance, rubbing your clit— but he’s lost when you wave him off before he can finger you to prep you for his dick, wasn’t that something people did? “but don’t you…” 

“it’ll fit,” you mumble back, relying on how wet you are to make it easier. 

he watches the way your jaw falls when you move to press his tip against your entrance, allowing the tip to push into you and it’s already too big. his eyes widen at the feeling of your walls clenching around his tip, unable to hold back the noises that slip from his own lips. 

“you’re like— the.. the girl of my dr— fuck— dreams,” luke hushed out between his mess of moans and grunts, he wondered if romeo ever felt this way when he kissed juliet for the first time, the sort of electric rush that riddled his bones, it felt unreal. you were a dream incarnate, one luke was always haunted with, the woman that would show up when his eyes would close at night, and now you were on his lap, sinking down on his dick. 

“am i? really?” you question, inhaling sharply when you finally reach the base of his cock. for some odd reason, you didn’t believe you were all he was putting you up to be, and that made him sick— how could you think of yourself as any less? you were perfect, a vision, to be fair, luke would adore you even if you were an enemy, just like romeo and juliet. 

he would stand at your balcony, stare at you from across the ballroom, kiss your knuckles, kiss you— he would do it all. he might even drink poison just to spend eternity with you. 

“yes, yes— are you.. kidding? mmph.. fuck— you’re like.. a fuckin’ goddess,” it comes out like a prayer, as if he was on his knees at your altar, kissing your legs, and whispering worshipping words. 

to nobody’s surprise, luke doesn’t last long at all when you’re bouncing on his cock, no matter how much he tried to distract himself from his throbbing cock by pawing at your tits, or moving to kiss you, his orgasm was just too close. “‘m g’na.. please.. g’na cum.. mmphh.. fuck!” 

when he does cum, you had pulled off him, jerking him off, and he’s practically writhing, a whimpering and damn near crying mess. and once he’s helped you to your orgasm as well, you’re falling into his arms, finding a safe - haven in how he smells like old books, mint, and cheap cologne. 

two star crossed lovers, one capulet, one montague. 

“these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder. which, as they kiss, consume.” — romeo and juliet, act two, scene six.

[mammons-lover]

Lucifer (looking very disappointed): I called a family meeting today because of the acts you all participated in yesterday. You collectively showed me I can’t leave any of you alone, surprisingly even you, Satan.

Mammon: It’s not our fault, those assholes started it!

Leviathan: Yeah, we were actually behaving before they showed up.

Lucifer: Okay, so tell me what happened.

Flashback:

All the brothers are walking home after class until someone bumps into Belphegor so hard he falls.

Demon: Watch where you're going, loser.

Asmodeus: What did he just say?

Mammon: That asshole did not just push Belphie.

Satan: Hey, dickwad, how 'bout apologizing to my brother?!

Demon: How about I shove that apology up your ass?!

Back to now:

Mammon: You see? We didn’t start it!

Satan: Yeah, he pushed Belphie. Why would anyone do that to him? Look how frail he is.

Asmodeus (grabbing Belphie’s face): And look how adorable he is. How can someone be so cruel?

Lucifer: Okay, I understand. But did you have to start an all-out fight that ended up spreading around the school?

Mammon: It’s not our fault that everyone started getting hype!

Leviathan: Kinda is Mammon’s fault though.

Mammon: What?!

Flashback:

Satan and Mammon are fighting a couple of guys. Suddenly, someone runs straight toward Mammon, so Asmo jumps on the demon's back.

Asmodeus (hitting them in the head repeatedly): You won’t jump my brother!

Mammon: Asmo!

Mammon turns around and sees Asmodeus get flipped onto the floor. Mammon rushes to hit the guy but punches the wrong person.

Demon #2: What the fuck, man? Did you just punch me?!

Mammon: Nah, dude, it was that guy. I saw what happened and came to see if you were alright. That guy is insane. (pointing at the guy who flipped Asmo)

Demon #2: Hey man, you wanna fight?!

Demon: You wanna go, bro?!

Present time:

Mammon: Oh, I totally forgot I did that. My fault, but in my defense, I was just trying to help Asmo out.

Lucifer: I appreciate you all looking out for one another, but you are supposed to be responsible, even if that means backing down from a fight.

Belphegor: Come on, Lucifer, you know we aren’t like that.

Lucifer: Yes, I know. Moving on, from what I heard, only Mammon, Satan, and Asmodeus were fighting, so why are you two marked up?

Beelzebub: Well…

Flashback:

Once the other guys started fighting, their friends joined in, leading other demons to jump in. While that was happening, Levi was calming down a pissed-off Beelzebub, and Belphegor was watching everything, smiling.

Leviathan: Come on, Beel, they’re taking care of it. There’s no need to step in.

Beelzebub: You’re right. I-I’m sorry.

Leviathan: There we go, just breathe—

Demon #3: What are you smiling for? Huh?!

Belphegor (acting confused): You’re talking to me?

Demon #3 (taking a step towards Belphegor): Who else would I be talking to?

Belphegor: Definitely not me. Get out of my sight, bottom feeder.

Demon #3 (throwing a punch at Belphegor): You little shit!

Leviathan: Beel, no!

Beelzebub tackles the demon to the floor before he can land a hit on Belphegor and starts punching him. Leviathan tries to pry Beelzebub off the demon but gets elbowed in the face by Beelzebub, then gets shoved by another demon.

Demon #4: You trying to jump my friend?!

Leviathan (holding his bloody nose): What?! No, I was just—

Demon #4 (throws a punch at Leviathan): I don’t wanna hear it! You’re dead!

Leviathan starts fighting the guy, and Belphegor stands on a nearby branch, watching the whole ordeal.

Mammon’s fighting three guys at once, Satan just body-slammed someone, Asmodeus is banging someone's head on the floor, Beelzebub is punching anyone near him, and Leviathan is now fighting two guys. Belphegor can’t be any happier. They are all fighting for his honor. He stands there laughing with pride, but his smile fades when he sees Lucifer.

Present time:

Leviathan: See, Lucifer? We didn’t start anything; everyone else threw punches first.

Beelzebub: Yeah, and didn’t you tell us to always defend ourselves?

Lucifer: I am going to give you all a pass, only because you didn’t start it. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to be punished.

All the brothers: What?!

Lucifer: School property was destroyed. Even after I brought you home, they were still fighting at the school. Tomorrow, every student will be assigned a task to help repair the school.

Satan: I guess that makes sense.

Lucifer: Everyone, go wash off. If you need help with bandages, I’ll be in my office.

Later that day:

Lucifer: Honestly, I’m impressed. While making my way to each of them, I saw how coordinated they were at fighting.

Diavolo: Me too. When I watched the footage from the cameras, I couldn’t help but be in awe. My favorite part of it was Belphie.

Lucifer: Belphie?… but he didn’t fight.

Diavolo: I know, but the way he was watching and laughing, he looked like a war leader proud of his soldiers. It was adorable. Even more adorable that they were looking out for the youngest.

Lucifer: I guess it was nice to see them look out for Belphie. He doesn’t have a scratch on him.

The rest of the night, the brothers and Diavolo reminisce about the fight while wrapping each other’s wounds and applying ice packs.

[disneyprincemuke]

best years * fem!driver

growing up in a predominantly male environment, she only ever had two friends she could count on. this is what it was like growing up with oscar and logan.

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: this was so hard to write for no reason

(series masterlist) | (📂 pre-formula 1)

2013

she leans against the wall behind her, fingers nervously picking at the skin around her nails. she’s the only girl in yet another karting race.

around her are countless boys excitedly greeting their friends, some of whom they have not seen in months from the long break. they would only spare her a quick glance before forming their own circles and talking amongst themselves.

she simply sighs and fishes for her phone in her back pocket. she will just pretend to text blythe, who is all the way back home, hours from where she is.

sure, she had plenty of girl friends from karting when she was growing up. but amidst puberty and coming into their own, her friends had simply moved on to other hobbies and interests — one that didn’t involve pouring your heart and soul onto the race track.

so there she stands, all by herself in the corner.

she feels a presence next to her, prompting her to lift her head. there stands a boy with sandy brown hair and his arms folded over his chest. who she will come to later know as oscar. but not just yet.

beside him is another boy, bright blue eyes with dirty blonde hair. they’re engaged in a conversation, paying no mind to the girl sending several messages to her younger sister without a response.

“okay, gather up, please!”

she would wind up making it into the top 30 that race.

“hey, you made it into top 30!” her mother engulfs her in a tight hug and sways side by side. “i’m so proud of you! you did so well!”

“thank you,” she giggles, pulling back slightly to catch some air. her hand reaches around the older woman’s body to wipe the sweat from her top lip. “are we still getting pizza after this?”

her father laughs, throwing his head back. “you never forget a promise, kid.”

“of course!” she cheers, jumping up as she claps her hands. “can i get a hawaiian pizza?”

“absolutely,” her mother beams, squeezing her on the chin followed by another hug.

she sighs and throws her head back, appreciating the sun that barely burns her skin. she scratches her head and gathers up her hair to pull it into a ponytail.

looking around, she locks eyes with somebody — the same boy from earlier with the sandy brown hair. he’s got the most charming smile, sending it her way along with a thumbs up.

blood rushes to her cheeks as she returns him a thumbs up and a courteous nod.

then he turns away, whisked away by his parents.

2014

“you’re only saying that cause i beat you on the track again,” she answers nonchalantly with an eyeroll. she folds her arms over her chest, scanning the boy head to toe. “it’s okay to lose to girls sometimes. it’s rare, i know, yet here i am.”

“an absolute fluke,” the boy scoffs at her, cheeks red in frustration and fists clenched by his side. “my dad says there’s no space for girls on the racetrack.”

“oh, really? say that to my top 10 finish and you barely making the cut,” she spits, anger lacing every word. “loser.”

his jaw drops. “hey, take that back!”

“bite me,” she grins, “you loser.”

his arm is barely able to land a hit on her shoulder when he stumbles back, a bigger figure blocking her from the frustrated kid. she barely flinched, now shocked at the something that separated her from a minor injury.

“hey, piss off, will you?”

“whatever, dude.”

her saving grace turns around, a small welcoming smile on his face. it’s someone she recognises — slowly becoming a familiar face for her every time she’s on for a karting race. “are you alright?”

she huffs, her fists now clenched by her side. “i had that covered. i didn’t need your help.”

he gives her a tired stare, obviously not biting into her words to be edged towards an apology. he just smiles again. “i know, but i thought i’d end it before a fight happened.”

“what if that’s exactly what i wanted?” she asks, an eyebrow raised as her hands rests on her hips. “you don’t know that.”

“don’t bother,” he chuckles, glancing at the ground before lifting his head to look at her again. “‘grats on the top 10 finish today.”

she narrows her eyes down. “thank you.”

“oscar, by the way,” he says again, hand stretched out toward her.

“(y/n),” she nods at him with a forced smile. she drops both of their hands. “you’re tough to race, oscar. sometimes i just wanna crash into you with my kart.”

“i get that a lot, thank you,” he grins. he points behind her, prompting her to turn around. “the blonde over there’s my friend. that’s logan.”

she nods. “i’ve seen you guys together a couple of times.”

“we go to school together.” oscar pauses. “hey, logan! come over here!”

the blonde, logan, whirls around and jogs over to them without a question. he approaches them with a grin. “oh, hey! you’re the one that passed me earlier! you’re quick.”

“thank you, i like making boys cry.”

“i never said you made me cry.”

“you may as well have.”

“maybe next race if you can do it again.”

“oh, i’ll bet on that!” she grins, giving him a knowing stare.

logan smiles down at her. “we’re going to get pizza after this. do you want to join oscar and i?”

and the rest is history, as they say.

2015

"get off your homework, man," she groans, dragging her feet to where oscar sits on her table. she shakes the boy lightly, but not enough to mess up what he's writing, and pops her head to his side. "i'm itching to go get ice cream."

"let me finish my homework. my mum will kill me," oscar sighs, attempting to wave off the girl from him. "give me like 15 more minutes."

"you said that 1 hour ago," logan says, words muffled by the pillow he's got his face smushed up against. "i'm hungry, dude."

a knock lands on the door before it creaks open, turning the heads of two of three people who rest in her bedroom.

"dalton, dude!" logan grins, patting the empty spot on the bed next to him. "you're home! how was school?"

"i learned math today," the young boy excitedly answers, running over to the american with a giddy grin on his face. he jumps onto the bed, only to be promptly pulled away by his older sister.

"i told you to learn how to knock, dalton," she says in a tired voice. "and take off your shoes before coming into my room. remember?"

dalton looks up at her, wide eyes and lips parted as he tries to remember her words. he nods, bending down to tear off the velcro from his shoes. "i'm sorry, (y/n)."

"that's okay," she smiles, patting his head. "just don't do it again, okay?"

he nods, before hurriedly jumping onto the bed. this time, logan has the blankets up before engulfing the small kid under it with a bear hug. "what kind of math did you learn today?"

"addition," dalton mutters. he turns to look at oscar, who has yet to acknowledge his presence. "oscar."

"hi, dalton," he mutters, head resting in his palm as he focuses on the paper in front of him. "give me a minute, kid. i'll talk to you later, okay?"

"not okay," dalton huffs, arms folded over his chest. he leans into logan's knees and drops his head on the mattress. "i'm hungry, (y/n)."

she grins. "we've got to wait for oscar to finish his homework before we can go get food."

oscar sighs. he drops his pen on the table, turning around to face the room. "i guess i can take a break."

he gives her a knowing grin, rolling his eyes when she proudly smiles at him. he's always had a soft spot for dalton, the small boy filling up the sibling-shaped hole in his heart. "what do you feel like having, kid? ice cream?"

the young boy jumps on logan, prompting the loudest yelp to pass his lips. his arms wrap around dalton as they roll off the bed. logan launches him in the air and catches him immediately, a loud giggle bouncing off the walls of the girl's bedroom.

"i want spaghetti!" dalton cheers. "but you have to make it for us, oscar!"

oscar sighs again. he drops his head. "okay, i'll make some spaghetti."

2016

"happy birthday, (y/n)!" the door swings open, hitting the wall with a thud.

immediately, the girl shoots up from her bed, hair a mess with both of her eyes still closed. "man, what the fuck!"

she rubs her eyes, only to be met by the smug grins of her friends as they saunter into her bedroom with cake in logan's hands and two wrapped boxes in oscar's.

"we said happy birthday," logan says through gritted teeth, "say thank you."

"what time is it?" she groans, pulling the blanket up to her stomach. "isn't it a little too early for you to be terrorising me?"

"1pm is not early," oscar shakes his head in disappointment. "i texted you to be ready by 1! we're catching a movie, remember? we're supposed to go catch mockingjay in theatres."

she frowns. "i'm sorry. i went out with my girls last night," she explains, slowly moving to the edge of her bed. "i can be ready in 15 minutes."

logan holds the cake to her face. "enough yapping. the candle's about 5 seconds from merging with the cake i spent so hard to find," he sighs. "make a wish, scrub."

she looks up at them, daggers thrown just through her glare. she blows out the flame as her two friends cheer softly for her, oscar clapping before patting her shoulder. "okay, let's go catch our movie."

she holds her hands out to the boxes in his hands. "presents first."

2017

"hey, where are you?" oscar's face fills up her phone screen, eyebrows furrowed as he navigates the crowd in the mall. "are you not coming early for the race?"

she bites down on her lip and looks down, briefly avoiding oscar's stare. "i'll still be coming. just not so soon."

"what?" oscar's voice squeaks in disbelief, truly not believing what he's hearing from his friend. "but we always get ice cream before the race. why didn't you tell us you were ditching?"

"it was last minute, i'm sorry," she frowns, glancing at the boy standing next to her. "i'll just see you guys there."

oscar's face immediately drops. "oh, you're with your boyfriend?"

she rolls her eyes. "yes, but i'll still be there for the race. what's the big deal?"

oscar shrugs. "nothing, mate. i'll just see you on the track, (y/n)."

"hey, what is your problem?" she calls out, head tilting at his sudden coldness. "i've got other people to be with besides you and logan, you know. i have other friends too."

"friends, maybe i understand. but this guy?" he chuckles, rubbing his chin as he tries to sympathise with her. he really tries, but it's difficult when the older boy has made his best friend's life miserable in the past 3 months and she's done is defend him.

"mate, come on. be serious. he won't stick around forever - he's a guy."

"you're a guy."

"and i've never ditched you for a girl, have i?"

"i'd understand if you did."

"well, i'm not flakey," oscar spits at her, glaring at her through the camera on his phone. "i'll see you later."

his face disappears, the home screen of her phone now the only thing staring at her with the silence in her living room. she sighs and drops her phone onto the couch next to her.

"you alright, babe?"

she nods weakly, but her heart races in her chest. she's always been very headstrong and stubborn with oscar, but this was the first time he's ever shown a sign of frustration with her.

as deadpan as he usually is, her chest weighs down on the implication this young relationship could have on a friendship that's been going on for years.

"yeah, i'm fine."

"it sucks, i know," logan sighs, patting her head. he's leaned back against the wall, sitting up as she cried into his chest. "we're only 16 - this won't be the last guy you'll be with."

this only made the girl cry harder into his chest. truthfully, he's got no idea what to do. comforting crying people has never been his forte; being more on the sensitive end himself.

"i'll beat him up, though, if you'd like," logan offers lightheartedly. this is progress, at least, cause it made her giggle for a second before she resumed her sobs. "i can take him in a fight."

"don't do that," she laughs through her tears, "yet."

"i'll even take oscar with me."

"no... oscar's mad at me."

"he's not mad at you, (y/n)."

"but i told you that fucker was no good," an australian accent falls upon the room, making her lift her tear-stained face up to look at him. "i hate to be the one to say that to you."

"fuck off," she sobs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "i already feel like shit."

oscar nods, but he does sit on her other side. sandwiched by the two guys, oscar just fishes for something from his bag. presented to them, three separate pints of ice cream with spoons.

she smiles, passing down the other pint to logan. but she doesn't say anything to the australian who's already opened up his share and has started eating.

she just presses her back to the wall behind her and looks ahead. she digs her spoon into the dessert. "i saw logan with a girl in the hallway the other day."

"hey, what the hell!"

2018

she holds up her phone, grinning to herself as she takes a video. she runs over to the boy zipping up his race suit. "oh, my god! it's logan sargeant, sir! can i have a couple seconds of your time for an interview?"

"(y/n), you made it!" he laughs, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl. "oscar should be around here somewhere."

"i wouldn't miss your first race, of course," she states matter-of-factly with an eye roll. she squeezes his side and leans in as he presses his lips to her cheek. she puts her phone into her pocket. "i'm always your biggest fan."

"you're the president of my fan club, right?" his eyes light up, teasing her as he rests his arm on her shoulder. "i wouldn't accept my fan club if it wasn't you running it."

she shrugs. "maybe, but i'm gonna need you to set me up on a date with max fewtrell."

"i thought you wanted to go out with charles leclerc?"

"he's got a girlfriend."

"i think max has got a girlfriend too," logan chuckles, simply amused by her presence. "tough luck, dude."

"man, i might just die an old maid," she drops her head with a frown.

"oi, what are you doing? the race is about to start," oscar scolds, hands held out as he scolds his friends. he looks at her, eyeing her up and down once more. "you're not dressed yet! it's your first race in a car. let's go, mate!"

"i didn't wanna seem so excited," she shrugs, "i don't know."

"well, there won't be a race if you're not dressed in your race suit, idiot," oscar scolds, pushing her towards the further end of the garages. "come on, i have to beat you again today. my race won't be complete if i don't."

"absolute bitch," she mutters, glaring at the two boys as she walks away. "i'll see you guys on the track - remember to look in your rearview mirror for me."

2019

the three sit in a circle, on her carpeted floor once more. "i'm sorry you didn't get a seat in f3, (y/n)," logan sighs, dropping his head in disappointment. "i can't believe it."

"it's okay." she leans back on her bed and sighs, dropping her head as well. she lifts it up again with a forced smile. "i'll watch you guys all the time, i swear. i'll be your biggest fan."

oscar shakes his head. "you'll get a seat. the season hasn't started yet - someone will pick you up."

she frowns, putting her hand on oscar's knee. "it's okay, oscar," she says softly.

how touching is it to have friends who care about your progression in a sport where you're meant to be selfish?

"you deserve a seat more than anyone i know," he sighs, pulling his legs up into his chest. he rests his chin on his knee. "it's not fair. they're overlooking you. you're so good on the track."

"not better than you, though," she jokes.

he looks at her from the side of his eye. his disappointment never leaves, "you could wind up being better than me. come on."

"there's not a lot of space for girls like me in a sport like this," she smiles slightly, squeezing his knee. "it's okay. i'll be at every single race cheering for both of you. i promise."

oscar furrows his eyebrows, still shaking his head. he's got 3 sisters - he'd be bummed if they were to pour their heart and soul into something and not have the same opportunities.

if he could, he'd simply flip the world upside down.

"don't give up, okay?" he moves his head, now cheek on his chin as he looks at the girl with hopeful eyes. "promise me - you'll be in an f1 car someday with us on tv. racing it out in the pinnacle of motorsport."

"obviously," she grins. "i won't ever let logan beat me."

"now, this is why you didn't get a seat, dude," logan jokes, exchanging a smack on the knee with the girl. "fix your attitude."

"i bet you're glad that i didn't get a seat - i'd beat you over and over in an f3 track."

"you'd have to get a seat to prove that, (y/n)."

2020

"i got you the seat!" oscar jumps onto her bed, grinning ear to ear. he squeezes the girl on her laptop, her head craned slightly to look at him. "you're going to be in formula 3!"

"what did you say?"

"you're going to be racing in formula 3 for the 2020 season, you idiot!" he screams, taking the laptop from her thighs. he closes it gently and puts it down on the ground. "dude, catch up faster!"

her eyes widen as the gears in her head slowly process what the australian has just bestowed upon her ears. her nose scrunched as a piercing scream slowly erupts from her mouth.

she stands on her knees on her bed, holding oscar's arms. "if this is a prank, i'm going to turn you into pastry!"

"it's not, i got you the seat in formula 3!" he screams, shaking her vigorously, jumping on her bed. "dude, you're a step closer to formula 1! i told you to never give up!"

"what do you mean, i never stopped racing!" she says amidst her screams, shaking oscar back as the adrenaline starts to pump through her veins. "i cannot believe it! i'm going to be in a formula 3 car!"

"yeah!" oscar jumps off his bed. "come on, let's go get drinks with logan! he's coming over with a couple of beers!"

she hops off the bed, her body going into his. they stumble back a couple of steps, oscar's back hitting the door with a thud. "dude, we can't just celebrate with a couple of beers. let's go to the club!" she shrieks, smacking his chest.

oscar tilts his head, lips pressed together. "are you sure? you're kind of uncontrollable in the club..."

"yeah, but i have the right to be tonight!" she rolls her eyes, "i just got promoted to formula 3!"

2021

"this formula 2 crap is easy," she mutters, taking her helmet off her head. she trudges towards the two in the red race suits, her balaclava also flinging off her head. "come on, oscar."

"oh, shut up," oscar laughs, wrapping an arm around her. "good job beating me for the first time."

"i made it my life's mission, actually," she whispers, dropping her head. she smiles, throwing her head back to look up at her two friends. "god, this feels amazing!"

"oh, i owe you 50, don't i?" logan frowns at oscar, hands on his hips. "i can't believe she beat you before the season ended. you growin' soft, piastri?"

"i just thought i should let her have one glimpse at beating me before i proceed to do it the rest of our lives," oscar snorts with a smug grin as he looks down at her. "feel it while you can, (y/n)."

she frowns up at him. "i'll beat you for real someday, pastry. i've done it once today, and i'll do it again."

he nods with a proud smile. "don't let that fire go out, dude."

2022

"oh, hold the front door!" she screams into the phone, turning around to smack oscar's shoulder. oscar, who was sitting quietly on her dining table, eating the spaghetti he's prepared for her household. "are you joking, mate?"

logan tilts his head at oscar, only receiving a similarly confused shrug from the australian boy. they both glance at her, confused, at her sudden scream amidst their dinner debrief after having not seen each other for a couple of weeks.

"there's no way! sebastian vettel said that about me?" she screams, smacking oscar's shoulder again.

"oh, you're kidding!" oscar grunts, smacking her hand from his shoulder. she doesn't react towards him, just jumps away to her living room with the phone still on her ear.

"you reckon she's scored a dinner with sebastian vettel with that reaction?" logan teases softly, pointing at the girl rambling away on the phone. "i've got my money on that."

oscar shakes his head. "maybe lewis hamilton through sebastian vettel."

they hear her heavy footsteps approaching the dining area. she simply drops her phone to the smaller table next to her, coming in slightly paler than they'd last seen of her a few seconds prior.

her lips slowly creep and spread into a grin. "i've been promoted to formula 1," she says breathily, her hand coming up to rest on the door frame behind her. she takes another deep breath. "sebastian's going to be race engineer in the 2023 season."

and all hell broke loose in the dining area that night.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology

[inf3ct3dd]

streamer!ellie headcanons

warnings: yo no se

content : streamer!ellie headcanons 🔥🔥

authors note : the streets r calling and they’re telling me to write streamer ellie hcs….

- def started off as a faceless streamer. she wasn’t really comfortable on camera, and she just thought it would be way easier. you can only see her shoulders-down leaving her (deliciosu. scrumptious. yummy) arms in the cameras view.

- her twitch user is “creeperewman” cuz shes like…discreetly hiding her initials and referencing the best minecraft parody ever 😕!!!

- bought the most random shitty mic and webcam and started streaming 🔥🔥 she never got rid of either of them its part of her odd loser charm

“‘fartmaster69:it’s probably cuz your camera’ it’s probably bc of YOUR CAMERA!!! theres nothing wrong w my camera bro 😞”

“don’t listen to them…ur perfect 🤫 IM NOT TALKING TO U GUYS IM TALKING TO MY CAMERA”

- only had a few viewers the first couple times she streamed, and it was some random 10 yr old who kept spamming “yassss” in the chat and some dude who said she was shit at minecraft 😞 he was LYING

- started off doing minecraft speed runs (or trying to) and got like way good over time

- she randomly started getting more and more viewers, because people kept posting abt her and calling her fine on tiktok , making edits of her hands and her voice 😭😭 (real)

- as she got more and more viewers, she started branching out more with the games she’d play. def loves shooter games like cod and pubg, but she’d also play like indie horror games like faith (omg markiplier fans would know)

- she has a orange cat she named garfield (cuz…of course she does) and he’s always sitting on her lap during her streams or messing w her setup 💔💔

- def put stickers all over her headset and showed them off all proud on stream

- designed her own cute banners and stuff for streams 😞!!!

- def had a subreddit/disc server with her viewers where she’d let them give her game recs or make memes of her

- ppl saw her guitar in the back of her streams and BEGGED HER to play it and she had her own lil concert stream !!! she was so freaking nervous and messed up a bunch the first like minute or two but like after that she was in the ZONE

“‘ewswife: i wish i was that guitar’ oh!! you guys are so…kind!!!”

- when she INSANELY hit 1k, she did a face reveal and she hit 10k the same day 😦 the amount of edits that ppl made was actually insane. ESP ONES MAKING FUN OF DREAMS FACE REVEALLLL

- started doing much more random shit on stream after she got more famous. she LOVES cooking on stream, and she’d start reacting to random shit ppl sent her on the subreddit

- she cut her hair on stream once, and everyone in the chat kept spamming “yo bob…is fye” for like 5 minutes 😪

- “you’re at work watching me? i hope you get fired. i mean. i hope you don’t get fired 😞”

- she gets so many thirst comments and like…is terrible at responding to them

“‘ewleftbicep: you look so vulnerable today’ WHAT”

- she has her own apartment cuz of her awesome streaming money 🔥🔥🔥 soundproofed walls too cuz she’s. loud.

- one day, you were walking on campus to a class. you had your headphones on, listening to your main playlist on shuffle, when you got stopped by someone. you pulled your headphones off your ears and gave the man in front of you a confused look. you looked down to his hands, holding a tiny mic, and another dude holding a camera.

“what song are you listening to?” he held the microphone towards you, awaiting your response.

you quickly responded “uhm, last goodbye, by jeff buckley.” and stood there awkwardly, pushing a piece of hair out of your face.

the man quickly thanked you and you walked away, slightly suprised.

- after a couple hours, the video had blown up and the comments were filled with people complimenting you.

pickleluna: jeff buckley girl is so fine

minyonlala: 3rd girl is so bad

rilakkila: I NEED JEFF BUCKLEY GIRL

and unknown to you, someone else found you on their fyp.

creeperewman: guys what is the 3rd girls @. im literally BEGGING BRO PLEASEEE

- ewleftbicep: BEING DESPERATE ON MAIN IS CRAZY

- ewsgirlf: random tiktok girl stole my wife 💔

- elliewilliamsidechick: guys im literally the 3rd girl 😂😂😂

- it didn’t take long for your phone to be blown up with people sending you the video, tagging you in funny comments, and finding your instagram. you watched the video, and saw ellie was the top comment. you checked her profile, and saw how FINE she was, and immediately responded

- y/nmainn: guys 😳😳😳 what if i was the third girl 😳😳

- ellie checked her phone and saw thousands of people tagging your comment, and she wasted zero time following you on tiktok. and your instagram. its not stalking if its in your bio, right?

- you two immediately hit it off, and ellie loved the fact that you had absolutely no idea who she was. to you, she was just some hot girl. not some famous streamer you were obsessed with.

- she didn’t even realize you two went to the same school until she saw you in her astrophysics class one day, and she almost had a heart attack when you waved at her and walked over to sit next to her.

“what a coincidence.”

- she took you out on your first date to a planetarium, and not even a week after, asked you to be her girlfriend.

- she definitely teaches you how to play her favorite games. but she gets wayyyy defensive when you beat her.

“im just letting you win.”

“beginners luck.”

but shes SO COCKY when she beats you

“hey, don’t be so hard on yourself after this. not your fault im a professional!”

“aw, maybe one day you’ll be as good as me”

- definitely helps you build your own pc.

- loves watching you play things like animal crossing or stardew valley, always lays on your shoulder while you’re on the couch.

“why are you being so mean to gaston :((“

“because hes UGLY and he has an ugly house and he’s ruining my village.”

“wowww you’re bullying a little bunny man because he doesn’t fit your aesthetic 😒 so mean”

- if you like more aggressive games like cod, she loves listening to you talk shit while you play and always makes fun of people with you. (she thinks its hot when you’re mean to people)

- her chat absolutely loves you, and every time you stream together its a continuous stream of “me and who” and “when is it my turn 😪”

[occamstfs]

Actually, They're Called Tetrominoes

Been holding out on some kinda Video Game trigger, here's a bit of an odd Russian cultural/racial TF, enjoy! -Occam

Michael could stand to be a more pleasant person. Day to day he is a pretty run of the mill head-down kinda guy, amicable but never really goes out his way to chat or make friends. Instead he finds his free time often used to prowl the internet looking for people to torment online in whatever way he finds funny at the moment. Born too late to be a goon on SomethingAwful he typically pages through Reddit threads and communities looking for someone sensitive or cartoonishly argumentative.

This is precisely where he finds himself tonight, being a pedant on some video game thread that he doesn’t truly care about. Some presumably Russian user, u/ZandrIvnov, seems to be quite proud of Tetris which Michael finds incredibly amusing. As an American he too takes pride in many of the cultural exports and ideas that his nation has sent into the world, including many of the deeply entrenched ideas about the Russian and Soviet people taught in world history. It takes especially little for him to decide to start taunting and baiting this man sitting at his keyboard a world away.

Michael launches petty taunts at the Russian, poking fun at his nationality and Eastern Europe at large, stopping short at making fun of the man’s less than perfect English, for now at least. Michael switches between accounts to upvote his responses and even add additional dunks on the Tetris-fan as needed. Try as he might though to get the conversation away from the ancient game and get some more personal and profane digs in there he finds it difficult to find any truly satisfying or clever insults.

Getting tired of hearing this man assert Russian superiority he prepares to pull the ripcord and move on before he sees the Russian misstep talking about the game he’s so invested in, as probably the only fun fact he has on deck comes to mind. After the Russian so eloquently compares Michael’s head to a Tetris piece Michael immediately replies, “okay lol big fan huh they’re actually called tetrominoes” and then moves on to find some other doofus to bully on the internet.

On the other side of the screen Sasha seethes at the man, so juvenile in his mockery “Проклятые американцы. (Fucking Americans.)” He takes to his own keyboard messaging Michael directly as his arrogant messages dry up in the thread proper, Sasha was going to have him put his money where his mouth was. He offers a challenge, “u americans are so proud da? how about we see whos country rly is the best”

Michael felt his pulse rise in excitement at how much he has truly bothered this man. Smug smile on his face as he types his response, “what did u have in mind, Zander?”

“Саша(Sasha) is my name. since u are so smart about tetris, why not see who is actual master of game da?” Sasha offers, knowing already that the troll is sure to accept out of pride alone. Michael wasn’t all that much of a gamer but surely he could show this dweeb what’s what yeah? He starts looking up tips to win Tetris as he replies “sure whatever dude, what are u thinkin”

Sasha smirks as he has Michael right where he wants him, “loser agrees with winner about national superiority? should not be problem if you americans are so good at every thing” Michael was already eager to give it a go and Sasha’s taunt only makes him all the more raring to go. Before he can even pause his meager attempt to study strategy, Sasha sends over a link to the game and Michael clicks over to play, leaving the cheat sheet open on a second monitor. 

Michael types his name into the game and finds himself looking at a familiar screen. He’s never played the game competitively but it’s a pretty simple game right? He just needs to keep his cool once the pieces start flying in. He gets the cheeky idea to check the cheat sheet in between pieces. That’s that good-old red white and blue ingenuity, Michael thinks. Unaware that these are of course also of the Russian flag. There’s a ping from the board as Sasha uses the in game chat to ask “u understand the rules da”

Michael sends back a thumbs up and Sasha sets the game going. It is predictably uneventful at the beginning, neither man making any particularly interesting plays. Michael continues to skim how to best cheat the game while Sasha waits for the perfect moment to fuck him over. Michael finds himself enjoying the game more than he thought he would as he hears the familiar tune, it is awfully catchy isn’t it? He’s gotta hand it to the soviets for that. His gameplay slows down as he tries to speedread the page on his other monitor. Instead of forcing pieces quickly he instead lets them drift slowly while his board is relatively clear. Sasha sees this and decides to go in for the kill.

Suddenly as Michael’s eyes wander away from the game for just a second too long there is an unfamiliar sound. He darts his attention back only to see the floor of his Tetris board rocket up in response to Sasha doing an impossibly well timed combo of lines. Michael’s heartbeat increases at a shocking rate in response as losing becomes a very real possibility. Why is he so upset? His face grows red as he realizes just how outclassed he is. Obviously this is no big deal right? Just a game. But Michael cannot help but feel physically uncomfortable as the tides start to turn so swiftly. 

There is suddenly a crick in his neck that he stretches to avail but only exacerbates as a soreness begins to spread further across his body. Man is he tensing up too much? It’s just, it’s just a game right? Trying to calm down he is hit with the thought as if it were a shot of adrenaline that he absolutely cannot lose this game. His eyebrows furrow as they begin to square and thicken, casting dark shadows over his rage-filled eyes. His limbs take turns cramping as he clenches his neck and jaw to distract from the pane, not noticing as the structure of his face begins to change. 

His chest grows to join the chorus of muscle spasms as Michael struggles to keep up with even Sasha’s slower gameplay. Across the seas Sasha takes his time, knowing victory is in the bag, and savoring what he knows must be happening to his little troll Michael right now. He smirks as he imagines the discomfort in Michael’s changing body as he feels warmth grow in his own chest, and crotch, as he decides just how much he wants to play with his food. 

Back in the states Michael finds the heat, the sweat, the tightness of his clothes increasingly unbearable. As he continues to mash buttons on his remote he is too intent on the game to notice as hair begins to darken around his forearms and begin to snake its way towards his hands. He rubs them each down to placate the tickle on his growing arms. This is absolutely nothing to the creeping itch that is starting to encompass the entirety of his rapidly expansive legs. He shifts his heavier thighs trying to soothe the discomfort, making a loud sound as they pull away from the sweat sticking them to the chair but not allaying the soreness or itch in the slightest.

He grunts and notices not how his voice has grown both deeper and gruffer in his throat. Michael struggles to keep the remote from slipping out of his hands as sweat trickles down from his hairy arms and into his palms. Before it becomes a problem however Michael takes advantage of the lull in Sasha’s gameplay and tries to quickly remove his far too strained shirt. It should be a simple task after all, just put the remote down for a second, slide it off, and then back to the game. He does a brief check in to ensure he has even that and after believing he does Michael starts to try and remove the shirt strained and sticking to his skin.

He has precious little time as the pieces continue to fall at their set pace in game. He gets one hand under the hem of his shirt and tries to wrench it while keeping his other hand on the controller, this lets in a breeze of cold air sending quivers of pleasure across his pulsating muscle, as well as igniting a burning ache in his chest and torso. His upper body grows even further, finally overfilling his shirt as the sound of tears ring out in his bedroom alongside the same repetitive folk song he knows well. The idea that this shirt was loose fitting when he threw it on this morning or that he just identified the Tetris theme as a folk song rather than an 8-bit annoyance don’t have a chance to come to mind as he struggles to remain focused on not losing the game.

He pulls the shirt up to his chest before it gets uncomfortably stuck “Ach, bog uh- god damnit.” He scratches at his chest as the soreness and growing muscle makes way for a fiery prickling as the few chest hairs he has been a tad ashamed of begin to thicken and darken on his chest. Swirling out from his nipples and inching higher on his chest with each breath, he continues to struggle to remove himself mindlessly. Finding his shirt caught on his expansive pecs he rubs his hand underneath it across his sweaty chest, and finding it pleasurably drag through more hair on his pecs than he would’ve sworn he had in his pubes, he resolves to remove the shirt however he can. 

As soon as he finishes a line Michael tosses the remote down and goes to raise his shirt above his head, his thicker arms struggling as they adjust to their new range of motion. He wrests the tight shirt above his head, his chest bursting large once more, freed from the garment as the breeze tickles the sweat covered chest hair and forces his enlarged nipples to harden. Having overcome his suddenly massive pecs the neckline is now caught on his chin, his arms raised high above his head expose his pits to the cold open air. He feels the air con blow against his recently shaved pits as the hair begins to grow back. It starts to catch as the hair begins to grow thicker and longer than it had ever done before, curling together as new hairs begin to push out and form a bush thick enough to never see the skin beneath again.

This also brings his attention to new development in his body, with his face shoved into his shirt it would be impossible not to notice the unbecoming amount of sweat soaking it. Arms raised though he finally notices that he has an altogether far more powerful scent, on par with a macro-obsessed body builder or hygiene-phobic wild man. Michael feels a beard start to push out into the shirt still hugging his face. Shaving once a month was more than enough to keep him clean shaven but now he knew deep in his mind that he would never have a day again where his face would be smooth. It’s that Ru- That American blood in him, right?

He begins to feel himself lost in the scent as his mind begins to grow distracted, attention fading from the game despite the looping tune filling his mind. He turns his head to smell his pits through his shirt which is when he hears the dreaded sound of Sasha making a combo once more, “Gah! Nyo, I can’t lose” he shouts, not noticing as his rough tone begins to develop a slight accent. Ending the long-standing struggle against his shirt he simply rips it off and jumps for the controller, ashamed at how foolish and lustful he has suddenly found himself in the middle of this all-important competition.

He needs to make his people proud! He cannot let Amerika down, ya? His focus and vision return to the game as he stumbles through one more line before all the pieces fall from view and the game declares Sasha the winner. Mikael reflexively pounds his table shouting, “Ny- no! I, this!” struggling to find any words to make his loss okay. Unable to notice just how bizarre this game has affected him, though sure that something grave has occurred. He scrambles to the chat box where he sees Sasha has yet again beaten him to the punch, “gg Брат(brother) yes?”

Mikael’s eyes don’t even notice the language switch in the message as he quickly races to demand a rematch. Punching keys slower than the career-cyberbully is accustomed to, almost as if he would be more comfortable with a different keyboard format, slowly he punches his response “one more best dva out of tri ya?” Sasha laughs out loud seeing Mikael suddenly typing out anglicized Russian. He smirks and squeezes his crotch in excitement at just how far this American brat has fallen into his hands. Sasha responds in full Russian knowing that Mikael may as well already be his countryman. “конечно, почему бы и нет, брат (sure why not, brother)”

Mikael smiles as he prepares for yet another go against Sasha, he’s eager to learn from his, uh? Suddenly he can’t quite remember how he knows Sasha exactly as his memories of his persistent pathetic history of being a troll begins to fade from his mind. As the Tetris theme starts once more with the game Mikael finds himself singing along as the words to the folk song it is based on, blushing at the vulgarity therein.

The race is on once more and though he was sure this was a competition against his friend, no, his брат(brother), Sasha, He can’t help but feel a giddiness as the game progresses. He feels a warmth in his chest just from playing a game of his childhood, of his country? No he’s a born and bred statesman da? He’s from, uh Moscow is a city in one of the states too da? Though he finds himself distracted his body continues to expertly control the game subconsciously.

He blushes as he struggles to remember where he grew up, it was a smaller town for sure. Somewhere very far North for sure, after all why else would he grow so hairy! He launches into a hearty laugh as body hair continues to push out from every pore in his body, sure to be peaking out from every shirt collar on both sides. He scratches at his pubes as it becomes clear that even besides his massive package there will evermore be a bulge in his pants from this unkept jungle as well. 

His eyes continue to follow the pieces up and down as they slowly begin to lighten and bleach themselves an icy blue. The itchiness that has made itself at home through the whole of its body is replaced with a burning pleasure as he thinks oh his home. Full days where there is only sun, long treks into the city to visit St. Basil’s, helping his mother fry pirozhki. The hair atop his head bleaches itself a sandy blonde while still thickening and pulling itself short as a lightbulb goes off in his head his voice rumbles in his chest as he reflexively speaks in what must be his mother tongue, “Конечно! я спрошу у Саши (Of course! I’ll just ask Sasha).” 

He goes to pause the game as he now knows he can do and types to Sasha in chat, “hey брат, wher am i от again?” Sasha smirks at just how easy this was stopping short from fully masturbating as he thinks of his new massive countryman living a world away as he replies, “недалеко от Москвы, Миша (just outside of Moscow, Misha).”

Misha’s eyes glaze over as he reads this, the room around him changes, American flags familiar patterns shift into the Russian tricolor. Any writing within the room shifts from English to the cyrillic alphabet and Misha sits there with a smile as he recalls his home. Long winters working alongside his best friend Sasha. His neck thickens and his waist expands as he thinks of long nights drinking alongside his friends to abate the cold. The game of Tetris continues on and he again feels a warmth in his chest at the chance to play with his dearest Друг(friend) Sasha.

For the life of him he can’t quite remember why he has moved to Америки though he is sure that Sasha will know. Sasha always knows the right thing to do. One thing is for sure though, he is going to do his Motherland proud.

[tariah23]

☝🏾

[luckybyler]

Will Byers is canonically super attractive, and that’s a risk for him.

I posted somewhere else that Will’s new look would drive all the girls crazy and it could be risky for Will, and someone replied saying that 1. Hawkins already mocked Will for being gay, 2. Will still looked nerdy in the picture, and 3. they didn’t think the Duffers would portray Will as being more attractive that the other boys from the Party.

The thing is, they have already played him up as more attractive than the other kids, and the fact that he still looks nerdy only highlights that more. He’s:

poor

suspected of being gay

a nerd

unpopular

shy

tiny (at least in seasons 1 to 3)

With a terrible haircut and fashion

with a shitty home life

Zombie Boy

and he still attracted three separate girls, two of which even made the first move (in the 80s!). The logical conclusion is that he must be one doll of a boy in-universe. I understand that it was necessary to bring home the point that he doesn’t like girls like that, but the side effect of that is that he comes off as more attractive.

Dustin had a whole plot point about no girls wanting to dance with him and got his long-distance girlfriend at Science camp. Lucas got Max to be his girlfriend by putting effort in it. Mike was straight-up the first boy El’s age she saw in her life (as she remembered it) and saved her life, fed her, etc. It’s not like she saw him and thought “he’s cute”. And I’m pretty sure that even in-universe they’re not unattractive, just not attractive enough to overcome their unpopularity and nerditude.

Plus it’s canon that Joyce was pretty in high school and she got together with Lonnie the Loser because he was a handsome “bad boy”. It’s not a stretch to assume that their children inherited their good looks. After all, Jonathan, who has the same handicaps as Will, replacing “gay” with “creepy loner with no friends” and adding “with no time because he works and takes care of his brother” managed to snatch Nancy Wheeler from rich, popular jock Steve Harrington, and nobody thought it was weird or that she was out of his league.

As for why this poses as risk for Will, there’s a difference between calling a delicate child gay slurs and being like “no for real, what’s the deal with this dude?” when they see that this now teenager has plenty of opportunity to be with girls and doesn’t take it, in a conservative town in the 80s.

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

[lovesickonmybed]

to hands between legs | 18+

masterlist | xo masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | bully!ellie williams x loser!virgin!reader

synopsis | ellie williams made your high school experience a living hell, but once you got to college you thought you were finally free…until running into her at a frat party where she humiliates you just like it’s high school all over again.

warnings | 18+ MDNI! bullying, wedgies, dub-con, underage drinking, panty kink, degradation, humiliation, fingering, virgin reader, mommy kink.

word count | 4.4k

a/n | if wedgie kinks make you uncomfortable or seem cringe to you then please keep scrolling and let me indulge in my weird little kinks thank you! also i dropped out of college so if any of this is inaccurate i'm sorry!! i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

“Dude you are not wearing those to the party tonight!” Your roommate Seline scoffs looking you up and down as you stand in your underwear looking through your clothes in an attempt to find something semi-decent for your first party of the year. You’ve got on a plain white bra and a pair of white hanes panties that sit high up on your waist. 

You turn back to look at her with an annoyed sneer on your face, “They’re called underwear for a reason, they’ll be under my clothes, where no one can see them. I doubt it’ll make a difference, I’m not exactly trying to get laid tonight, especially not by any of those guys.”

“Wearing granny panties at any time besides your time of the month is just…wrong! There’s no way those are comfortable, like seriously I see you pick your wedgie like 20 times a day, just grow up and switch to thongs already.” Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you slip on a black skort that stops at your mid thigh before turning back to face your roommate. 

“I do not pick that many wedgies, stop being so dramatic! A thong would just be worse, I don’t want a string up my ass all day…” You retort.

“So instead of a string you want that itchy fabric to bunch up and give you a cottontail? Got it…this is why you haven’t gotten laid yet…” Seline says, side eyeing you.

“I really don’t need this right now, I’m wearing my comfortable and reliable panties and you can have fun telling a frat guy to stop pulling on your thong strings when he’s had too much to drink.”

“My thong is getting taken off by a frat guy tonight, not pulled up, honey. Now hurry up and get dressed so we can go, maybe if you pick the right top someone can look past your choice in underwear,” Seline chuckles.

You roll your eyes playfully and decide on a cropped white tank top, you slip on a pair of black heeled boots and a light wash denim jacket to finish off the look. You want to look alright just in case, you haven’t had the best luck romantically and definitely not sexually since arriving at school. You’ve made out with a few girls at parties but due to your own nerves you haven’t done anything past feeling them up and trying to not cum immediately when their hand is on your thigh. You swear you got more action from your high school bully…

“Come on, if you make me even later than we already are then I’m gonna lose it!” Your roommate commands as you grab your bag from off your bed. You’re not exactly the party type and you sure as hell weren’t in high school, then again you never got a chance to go to parties in high school thanks to Ellie fucking Williams for making you a pariah. You still have no clue what you did to the girl for her to target you as viciously as you did, you barely knew her…maybe she wanted to establish dominance when she arrived in Jackson, sure being the new kid can be tough but it doesn’t exactly call for you to make someone miserable everyday of their life. It started with a shoulder check in the hallway and escalated to you having to budget out having to replace panties on an almost weekly basis due to the waistband ripping wedgies Ellie loved to dish out. 

College was a fresh start for you, a way to escape your past as ‘Wedgie Girl’ and to finally make some friends…but thanks to your busy class schedule and your social awkwardness it’s proven harder than you expected. Your roommate Seline was kind enough to introduce you to some of her friends and you’re pleading with whatever forces are out in the universe that some of them will be there tonight to hang with you when your roommate abandons you for some dick from a sweet, but ultimately brainless frat boy. 

“Do you know if anyone we know is gonna be at the party?” You ask Seline, nervously playing with the hem of your skirt as you both walk the path to the nearby frat house. 

“Uh, I think Taylor mentioned she might be there…I’m not sure when though. But hey, if she’s not I’m sure you’ll find someone to spend your night with if I disappear,” She smiles, nudging your arm with her shoulder playfully. 

“More like when you disappear…”

“Hey! I don’t always disappear!” Seline scoffs.

“If there’s dick from a himbo you do,” you retort.

“Can you blame me? They’re always the sweetest in and out of bed, I can’t help that I like a dumb guy who will actually take care of me after we fuck instead of some asshole who’ll just take my panties after!” On multiple occasions freshman year Seline had some of her favorite pairs stolen by business majors, it was truly unfortunate. 

“Dude I swear to god I’m on a mission to get your panties back tonight, you know I love stealing shit from frat guys. I’m gonna steal your panties back,” you joke to Seline.

“I don’t want them back, they’re probably crusted with cum by now!” Seline laughs.

“Oh my god! Why would you put that image in my head, jesus christ!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Seline is out of breath as she apologizes. 

You reach the lawn of the frat house and you and Seline look at one another.

“If you plan to hookup with someone and stay at their place, text me and share your location, deal?” You say to Seline, making sure to establish a plan for tonight.

“Deal. Same goes for you, babe,” she smirks.

“We both know I won’t be hooking up with anyone but the optimism is appreciated, Seline.”

Seline laughs and throws her arm around your waist as you walk into the party, music playing loudly, the house filled with college students with drinks in their hands. 

You comb the crowd to look for anyone you may recognize but you’re unsuccessful, you frown and pull yourself closer to Seline for comfort. You cup her ear, “I don’t see Taylor yet.” 

“Let me text her and see when she’ll be here,” Seline responds as she pulls out her phone and pulls up Taylor’s contact, she shoots her a text and while she waits on a response y’all go into the kitchen to find something to drink. 

You separate from Seline and look around at all your options, you decide to just grab a Whiteclaw, ignoring how douchey it makes you feel to be seen drinking one. You crack it open and take a sip as Seline pours herself a shot. You lean against the counter as people come up to greet Seline, you feel out of place at this party but you try to ignore the feeling and take another sip.

“Hey, is it okay if I go with them?” Seline motions to the two girls standing where she just was, “I don’t want to leave you alone but we’ve been meaning to catch up for awhile y’know?”

You sigh and bite the inside of your cheek, “Yeah…it’s okay. Go catch up,” you give her a fake smile and in response she gives you a real one.

“I appreciate it, I’m sorry. If you need anything just text me, okay?” 

“Got it. Go have fun for me,” you smile.

Seline gives you a quick hug and turns to the other girls, walking off to the backyard together.

You stay where you are in the kitchen, bobbing your head to the music and mostly aimlessly scrolling on your phone when people watching gets boring. You’re broken out of your trance by a familiar laugh, “Holy shit…you actually made it out of Jackson? I’m shocked, truly.” Even if you hadn’t looked up you’d know exactly who was talking to you. Standing in front of you, a beer in hand, is Ellie Williams. 

You gasp softly and take a long swig from your drink, “I-You-”

“I didn’t know you went here, how’d you even get in?” Ellie asks, taking a step towards you. You can smell the woodsy cologne that’s been her signature scent since high school, she’s wearing a dark green flannel over a black tank top and a pair of black jeans. 

“I-I’m smart…I guess…” You manage to say. You regret it instantly, face heating up when you realize how stupid you sound. 

“Mhm, yeah of course…” She steps closer to you, setting her hand next to your hip on your counter, trapping you slightly as she gets in your personal space, “You know,” she chuckles, “Your roommate is a real dick for letting you leave the dorm like this…”

“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ask, instantly regressing back to the insecure high schooler you were just two years ago.

Ellie smirks, wetting her lips with her tongue, “Nothing, I’m just fucking with you, loser. You’re just as easy to mess with as you were in highschool…” 

You look down, avoiding eye contact, and shrink into yourself, “Why…why are you doing this? We’re not in highschool anymore, Ellie. I mean…who even bullies people in college?”

Ellie doesn’t appreciate your attempt to stand up for yourself, “Someone who sees a loser in desperate need of help…you still wear granny panties?” She bites her lip as she watches your face contort into an embarrassed look.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about…” You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to self soothe. 

Ellie pauses for a minute, turning around to scope out the house. She grabs your wrist and starts to pull you along with her.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” You yell, trying to tug your wrist out of her grip, it’s a futile attempt as she’s always been much stronger than you. 

“Shut up,” Ellie commands, continuing to pull you along with her to the upstairs of the house. The partygoers hanging out on the staircase pay you no mind, continuing their conversations without a care in the world. Ellie pulls you down a hallway, opening one of the doors and pushing you inside, causing you to fall to your knees. Ellie locks the door as you scramble to your feet, mostly out of fear of what substances could be on this carpet.

Ellie turns around to face you, “Take your skirt off.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What?”

“Are you stupid? Take your goddamn skirt off,” Ellie sneers.

“What? Why? I-I’m not taking off my skirt for you! And I’m not wearing granny panties!” 

“Then lift up your skirt and prove it. You’ve got a little cottontail poking out of the back of your skirt by the way…nice hanes,” She laughs and pushes you back, causing you to stumble.

“You’re a sadistic bitch!” You exclaim, backing up away from her.

Ellie walks towards you, backing you against a wall, “I think you meant sexy, but that’s alright sweetheart I still understand you.” Ellie grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, using her arm to pin you against the wall, your face feeling squished against the plaster. She grabs the bottom of your skirt and pulls it up, groaning in disappointment when she realizes you’re wearing a skort. “Fuckin prude,” she mutters before grabbing the waistband of your skort and yanking it down, exposing your white hanes to her.

“Hey! What the fuc-” 

Ellie cuts you off, “Sorry did I tell you to speak?”

“N-No but-”

Ellie cuts you off again by grabbing you by the back of your head and shoving your face even harder against the wall, causing you to whine in pain. “You speak when I tell you to speak, until then shut your goddamn mouth before I gag you.” Ellie slaps your ass and chuckles when you yelp. “Do you still want to stand here and deny that this borderline geriatric pair of panties are granny panties? Huh? I mean, this sure as shit ain’t a thong, but if you’re really so deep in denial I guess I could be generous and turn it into one for you, honey.”

Before you can even think about protesting Ellie grabs your waistband and pulls it up teasingly slow, your eyes go wide as you’re transported back to highschool by the feeling of the cotton fabric sliding against your skin and situating itself between your cheeks. As the fabric begins to sink into your folds you’re transported back to a memory of Ellie giving you a wedgie in the locker room during senior year.

“Shut up and take it, loser! It’s your fault for pissing me off today!” Ellie whisper-yelled as she pulled the front of your panties violently, tears welled up in your eyes as the baby pink fabric was forced into the folds of your cunt.

“Stop! Come on, you really don’t have to do thi-”

Ellie cuts you off with another harsh tug of your panties, your mouth falls open as a sharp pain shoots up your ass. You try to reach back and tug your waistband away from Ellie but she’s quick to pin your wrists against your back, using her body weight to help pin you against the wall. “Don’t you fucking dare! You’re so goddamn defiant, I miss the helpless loser you were in highschool, this was so much easier back then. You knew how to shut up and take it.”

Ellie shoves her leg between your thighs and lets go of your waistband, she uses her now free hand to remove her belt and restrain your wrists with it. “There. Now you have no choice but to take it,” she laughs. You try to squirm out of her grasp but with her thigh pressed against your cunt all it does is make your face heat up and make you hold back a moan of pleasure. Ellie continues to hold you against the wall as she grabs your waistband again, “Ready for me, wedgie girl?” Ellie smirks as she starts to pull your waistband again, pulling harder than before, almost lifting you off the ground with her first pull.

You choke on nothing as she uses your old nickname, feeling you with even more shame as your brain floods with countless memories of your public humiliation at her hands. Your eyes screw shut as you feel the threads snapping against your skin, the painful friction against your most sensitive parts sends pained moans from your lips. 

“P-Please…h-hurts so bad,” you whimper, tears forming in your eyes as you rest your forehead against the wall.

“It’s supposed to, dumbass. I bet you like it though, don’t you? It’s the most attention your little virgin cunt has ever gotten, huh?” Ellie snickers. 

“I-I’m not a virgin!” You reply.

“Bullshit. I doubt you’ve even had an orgasm…poor thing, bet your poor little pussy just leaks from the slightest attention…I could breathe on it and you’d cum. It’s a miracle you haven’t cum yet, I’m pratically fucking you with these,” Ellie pulls harder, getting you onto your toes to emphasize her point. Ellie giggles, “You know what, you’re not a virgin I’ve already fucked you with your panties.”

You mewl with embarrassment which sends Ellie into a fit of laughter, once she calms herself she lets go of your waistband. You sigh in relief as you think she’ll let you go but once you feel her grasp on your leg holes your eyes go wide. You’re not getting off that easy. 

“You know what, let me rip these and I’ll give you a pity orgasm, how does that sound, loser?”

“No, come on! Ellie don’t rip these!” You plead.

“Oh come on, nerd. I’ve already stretched them out, they’re unwearable, just let me have my fun,” Ellie begins to lift you by the leg holes of your panties. You cry out in pain, your legs kicking out of instinct as you feel the fabric of your panties pulled back and through your cunt, the fabric scraping against your cunt in such a way that causes you to begin to cry.

“Can’t believe you’re already crying, you went fucking soft on me, nerd. Guess I gotta do this everyday and build your tolerance back up,” she says in a patronizing tone. 

“No, no, no, please…Ellie…” Your breath is ragged as she continues to split your ass with your panties, showing no mercy as she bounces you, the sound of threads ripping fills the room.

“Oh come on, baby, you can take it. Don’t tap out now, you’re so close,” Ellie coos, snaking one of her hands around to grab the front of your panties and begins pulling from the front too. You scream in pain and she lets go and begins to scold you, “Shut the fuck up! Are you trying to get caught? You want everyone to see you getting fucked with your panties?” 

You sniffle, “N-No…”

“Then shut. the. fuck. up. and take it. Got it, slut?” She questions.

“Got it…”

Ellie resumes and you bite your lip to hold back your pained noises as she bounces you by the front and back of your panties, making you feel like you’re being split in half. You can’t remember the last time you were in this much pain and you hate how soaked it gets you, a wide wet patch is very visible in the gusset of your panties. It doesn’t take many more pulls for the panties to finally rip, you moan loudly in pain and pleasure as you feel the fabric rip against your cunt. Ellie is quick to grab you by your waist, old hand holding the ripped pair of panties as she helps you to the floor. You sit against the wall and catch your breath, looking up at Ellie completely wrecked. Your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes and you have red marks on your hips. 

Ellie squats down to your level, “You okay?” She asks softly, reaching towards you to trace the marks on your hips. Her gentleness confuses you, when she bullied you in high school she would’ve just let you fall to the floor and leave you to deal with the aftermath.

“I-I think so…” You mumble.

She reaches up and cups your cheek, “Can I finger you?” She looks down at your red puffy cunt, licking her lips as she imagines you mewling for her as she stuffs your cunt. 

“I…No one has ever…y’know…touched me like that before…” You explain shamefully.

“I wanna make you cum, loser. Wanna feel your cunt clench around my fingers.”

You look up at Ellie with glassy eyes, whining at the thought, “Why?”

Ellie looks down, her cheeks turning red, “Because I think you’re hot…and I’ve been wanting this for years…”

“You have?” You ask, brows furrowed as you scan her face for any hint of a lie.

“Yeah…I…I like how you sound when I torture your pretty pussy, wanna make it feel good this time, wanna reward you for how you took that wedgie.”

You think it over for a minute before you nod, “I want your fingers inside of me, please.”

“You want it on the bed, baby girl?” She asks, nodding her head towards the bed of whatever poor boys room you two have only just begun to desecrate. 

“Yeah. Can you untie me too please,” you ask softly, lifting your restrained hands behind your back.

“Oh shit, I forgot I even did that. Let me get that off you,” Ellie helps turn you around and removes the belt restraining your hands and slips it back onto her jeans. She takes your wrists in her hands to check for marks, “They should only be a little sore…I’d wear long sleeves till the marks go away unless you feel like coming up with a story about how they got like that.”

You nod and let her help you onto the bed, you wince in pain as you sit on the bed, the soreness in your ass already kicking in.

Ellie tilts her head and leans towards you, looking down at your lips, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, wetting your lips with your tongue. She leans in and presses her lips to yours, kissing you softer than you could’ve ever imagined from her. There’s a masochistic part of you that had always had a crush on Ellie, you had dreams of her fingering you, eating you out, hell even taking you on dates. But you had never imagined she’d really kiss you, especially not like this. You kiss her back and are quick to deepen the kiss, Ellie smirks against your lips at your eagerness and pulls you into her lap, spreading your legs and cupping your cunt. She uses you gasping at the sudden contact to slip her tongue into your mouth and you moan into her mouth once she starts to massage your clit. Your body feels like it’s on fire and you beg the universe to not let you cum before she can even get her fingers inside of you. 

She pulls away from your lips, a trail of saliva still connecting them as she moves her mouth down to your neck. She presses a kiss below your ear and whispers, “Gonna take off your shirt baby, wanna suck those pretty tits.”

That alone is enough to make you grip her hair tightly and whine. You help her remove your shirt and she’s quick to remove your bra as well, beginning to trail kisses down your neck. “You’re so fucking pretty, got perfect tits…for a loser…” She snickers. 

This time it doesn’t feel malicious, it makes your clit twitch and your breath hitch. 

“You like when I’m mean to you, don’t you? Bet you’d go home after school everyday and play with that pretty pussy of yours and think about what I did to you…Bet it got you wet once I got everyone calling you wedgie girl…” Ellie smirks at you, admiring the embarrassed expression on your face.

“Shut up…” You giggle.

She smiles and starts to leave hickeys on your neck and collarbones, drawing whines and whimpers out of you with ease. She pulls back to admire her work, “I’d suggest you invest in a turtleneck, sweetheart,” she chuckles.

“Shit…what’s my roommate gonna say?” You mutter, brushing your hair out of your face as you try and think of an excuse to give Seline.

“Are you with her or something?” Ellie asks.

You shake your head no, “God no…she just knows I haven’t done anything like this before…never came back to our dorm with a hickey before either.”

“You’re so innocent it’s fucking adorable,” Ellie says, leaning forward and kissing you again. She pulls away and leans down to press kisses to your tits, nibbling slightly here and there, making you whine once she takes one of your nipples into her mouth, tweaking the other with her hand. “Fuck…Ellie…” you whine, tilting your head back as she worships your tits.

She trails a hand down to your cunt, slapping it lightly, making you yelp. She laughs softly and presses her ring and middle finger against your folds, swiping up some of your slick and bringing her fingers up to her mouth to taste you. She takes her fingers into her mouth and sucks your slick off, moaning at the taste, “You taste as good as you look, sweet girl.”

She leans forward to kiss you and slowly slips two fingers inside of you, you gasp against her lips and buck your hips forward. “Oh fuck…”

“I haven’t even started baby,” she laughs. She begins to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, whispering praises to you as she brushes her thumb against your cunt. She bites her lip as you whine her name, reaching out to grip the bed sheets. “You’re so tight, bet you’ve been needing this huh…”

“Y-Yes mommy, needed it so bad,” you mumble, too engrossed in your own pleasure to truly realize the words leaving your lips. 

Ellie stops and tilts her head, looking at you with her jaw dropped, “Did you…did you just call me mommy?”

“Fuck…I-I’m so sorry, it just sli-” Ellie cuts you off by resuming her pace, speeding up her movements quickly to make you fall apart.

“Tell mommy how fucking good it feels,” Ellie commands. 

You’re quick to follow her orders, muttering pathetically about how good she’s making you feel. “Mommy…I fucking…I’m so close, need to…”

“Need to cum, don’t you pretty girl? Gonna make you cum, gonna make my pretty baby make a mess all over my lap.” Ellie curves her fingers inside you, hitting right where you need until it sends you over the edge. You let out a string of moans as you collapse forward onto Ellie, burying your face in her neck and you moan incoherently. Ellie works you through your orgasm, rubbing your back whispering praises as you come down. She sucks your juices off her fingers, continuing to rub your back and praise you as you catch your breath.

“Fuck…thank you…” You whisper, your head still buried in the crook of her neck.

Ellie smiles and pulls you close to her, “Anytime, loser.”

You roll your eyes and giggle, the word no longer feels hurtful but instead playful. Ellie pulls you off her lap and grabs your ripped panties off the floor, using them to clean you up. “These are coming home with me,” Ellie says, holding the ripped fabric up in front of your face.

You try to snatch them away from her but she’s quicker than you, stuffing them in her back pocket. “Nuh uh, these are mine now, loser. Need something to help me get off when I think about this again.”

She helps you redress and tries to help fix your hair and smudged makeup, it’s all futile thanks to the hickeys she decorated your neck and collarbones with. “You know it’s pretty dark out there, I doubt anyone will notice,” Ellie says, motioning to your hickeys.

You roll your eyes and give her a look that says ‘really?’ “Ellie, these are impossible to miss, my roommate is never gonna let me live it down.”

“I can’t help that I’m so good at humiliating you,” Ellie giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist, nuzzling her face into your neck.

“Shut up and take me back to my dorm,” you say playfully, nudging her with your head.

“Round two?” She asks hopefully.

“I’ll consider it…”