#lady gaga locks

[prplocks]

♡☆♡ lady gaga wallpaper

reblog if you save ▪︎

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[starliteonearth]

So there's this theory going around that Todd Phillips may have flipped the dynamic and made Harley the aggressor/manipulator in the relationship and Joker the down bad one instead. And before anybody gets their panties in a twist, I think we need to remember that this version of Joker is a Loser. Very much a Loser. He's not the aggressive, dominant type we're used to (in his dynamic with Harley). This is a sad sad little beta male who has severe mommy issues, who has never felt the touch of a woman in his life, and who fully imagined having a girlfriend in the first movie. Do you think he's gonna be aggressive towards the first woman to pay him any attention? And not only that but a woman who seemingly matches his crazy and perfectly understands him? Yeah, no. He's going to be head over heels, Madly in Love.

Now he can still snap and turn against her because you know, Joker, but I really do think that for most of the movie he's going to be giggling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl in love.

[unhealthyobsessionslol]

My feelings about heatstopper (and the cast), even after watching it 83 times:

[lyrical-locks]

Lady Gaga lyrics

Hope you like these 💛💐

[distant-velleity]

i live for the applause, applause, applause i live for the applause-plause, live for the applause-plause live for the way that you scream and cheer for me

[wildglitterwolf]

Circling March 12th for when I get my ‘Hold My Hand’ Oscar performance.

[upwego]

theres something, something about the chase “6 whole years” 😮‍💨

[yandere-romanticaa]

¡! ❞ 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑.

❝ he licked his lips, said to me - girl you look good enough to eat - put his arms around me, said - boy, no, get your paws right off me. ❞

yandere! blade x fem! reader.

inspired by the song monster by lady gaga.

The scent of blood. The filth of iron. A shallow echo, followed by the sound of absolute nothingness.

He was close by.

You could feel it.

It was difficult to pinpoint when this song and dance had begun but that was just the way Blade handled everything, as you would come to learn. You could recall bumping into a masked stranger in large crowds on the Lofu - whom you now know is Blade - and finding it odd just how often they would occur. At first it just felt like a simple accident, perhaps the man was just working in a place that was close to your own shop, thus making all the run ins nothing too strange or something worthy to ponder on about.

It all took a turn for worse once you felt the hairs at the back of your neck standing up straight when you would be walking home at night.

The streets would be empty and desolate, not a single soul in sight. You chalked it up to being paranoid, because who wouldn't wouldn't be afraid to walk home alone in the dark? The only thing that could be heard was the sound of a few stray critters and the sound of your own beating heart. Every heartbeat felt like it knocked the air out of you, the pumps getting stronger and stronger with every step you would take. Paranoia would take over your entire mind as you would check behind you every few seconds, to see if there really was a mystery man following you.

All of that fear would be washed away once you'd be in front of your door, the familiar wood calming your nerves as you'd fumble with the keys. With an eager sigh, you'd open the door with lightning speed and shut it just as fast, always double locking it. Your back would be pressed against the wooden frame as you'd put your hand on your chest, checking to see if your poor heart had finally managed to catch a breather.

This routine went on for months. You told your friends about the looming shadow that tailed you for countless nights, how terrified you were and just how unsafe it was for you to be walking home alone. Naturally, the responses were mixed. Some thought that you were just being jumpy, imagining things going bump in the night. It was natural to be scared of the unknown, that was their way of comforting you. The other side was more sympathetic and were more than willing to hear you out. Taking your words seriously, a good friend had offered himself to walk you home from that night onward. His own home was also close to your own so it was pretty much perfect. The two of you made plans on where to meet and what time. You could even treat him to some dinner while you were together, it was the least you could do to repay him for his kindness. Finally, the sun had set and it was time to depart together with your friend. With a pep in your step, you walked towards the rendezvous point and feeling just a bit more confident in this decision. You waited there and checked the time, he was running late. Well, it's not unusual to be a few minutes late, you could wait more.

Five minutes turned into ten.

Ten minutes turned into thirty.

This wasn't alright.

Everything was off once more, the familiar sensation of adrenaline had kicked back in as you looked around for your friend. Where was he? Why didn't he show up? Was this all just a prank to him after all?

Feeling dejected and nervous, you walked back home alone, the lights from the lanterns being your only companions. The familiar sounds of the night were still there, the occasional drunken yell as well.

But the sting that you would feel at the back of your neck, it...

It was not there.

There was no tension, no other presence that you could feel.

You were lost in the darkness.

The next day, you asked around for your friend but they all said the same thing - he had a sudden accident a bit before he was supposed to meet up with you and ended up bludging both his arms and legs. No one knew how it happened and whenever they would ask the guy all he would do is stare back at them, his lips quivering and bloodshot eyes filled to the brim with terror.

It made you want to curl up into a hole in the ground.

Calling in sick, you decided to go home while it was still daylight. The habit of looking behind your shoulder was very much on alert but there was also a sense of calmness in the air. Instead of the cold and chilly night you were walking down a path which was light up with warm light, instead of sounds of creatures looking for their next meal all you could hear were the sound of street vendors and chatter of children. The food smelled delicious and you allowed yourself the luxury of loosening up, just for a little bit. As you rummaged through your purse you came into contact with the familiar feeling of metal keys, the tiny charm you had on them being a dead set indicator. You put the key into the lock but before you twisted it, you turned around one last time to admire the scenery around you.

Happy children and grumpy adults were scattered all over the place, all of them lost in their own little world or they mingled with each other in one way or the other. You were particularly focused on the little boy who was devouring a grilled piece of meat on the stick, the aroma of it almost making your mouth drool. Looking behind your back really wasn't all too bad, especially if you could feast your eyes on the pure serenity which was so close.

Turns out, it was your front which you had to be looking out for.

Just as you opened the door, a tall man with jet black hair was on the other side. He stood perfectly still as he stared down at you, his blood red eyes leering over your body, like a hunter going in for the kill. Dread bubbled in your stomach at an alarming rate but before the scream could come out to the surface, the dark stranger pressed you close to him, one hand holding your waist tightly while the other clamped your mouth shut, not even allowing you to breathe.

"If you even make a sound." he said, his voice gruff but determined.

"I will kill every single person that is standing behind you. Man, woman or child, it does not matter to me."

You wanted to hurl. Your eyes were blown wide open with fear, your entire body shaking with anticipation as his hot breath fanned the shell of your ear. You could feel his teeth ghosting your earlobe, threatening to take a bite whenever he pleased. The hand which was snaked around your waist moved upwards to your back, his bandaged finger tracing the flesh through the fabric of your shirt. No one from the outside world was even paying attention to you and if they did, the two of you probably looked like two love birds who were just thoroughly enchanted with one another.

"You know." said the man, his voice edging on playful now. "I've been watching you for a while now."

You could feel your stomach drop in realization and he too picked up on that fact. He chuckled right in front of your face, his long strands of hair tickling your cheeks. You didn't even realize just how sticky his hands were up until now, you how putrid his scent was, like he had just cut up a carcass and left it for dead under the sun.

"Oh?" he chuckled, his tone fully serious now.

"Don't you recognize the smell of your friend?"

The tears finally kicked in and the sicko in front of you took great pleasure in them. You bawled like a baby in front of him, the horror of knowing that your friend was either dead or dying in a ditch somewhere was just too much to handle. But the creek merely laughed at you, his body shaking with pleasure as he kissed your tears away, his horrid cackles ringing loudly in your eyes. You managed to look at the world behind you one last time, your eyes searching for someone, anyone to help you in this time of need. But no one was there to see you, no one was there to help you.

The last thing you saw was a few strings of light before the stranger kicked the door shut with his foot, sealing you away from any possible freedom.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

John Wayne (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) Part 1

Hiii! Inspired by the song of the same name by lady Gaga, and these two(flash warning for this one) edits of Predo Pascal(🤭) Not proofread, enjoy!

Cursing, making out, pet names, Miguel being a big ass flirt, slight nsfw but no smut. Mentions of hanging and death Lowkey highkey very cheesy and cliché but in a fun way.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Word count: 2.1k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Bandits, cowboys, shoot outs, saloon fights, all things you’ve heard rumors about the Wild West while you lived in the city. Your classmates telling you stories they’ve heard from a long distance relative or from a friend of a friend of a friend.

But as you sit down at your fathers office at his new job, you couldn’t help but think that all those stories were nothing more than that. Stories. Lame, boring, make-believe stories. Who would have know that being the sheriff’s daughter in a dum-fuck nowhere town would have been so uneventful, on an exciting day, he’d lock up a drunk. You wish your parents had just stayed on the east coast as you let out an exasperated huff, dropping your pencil on your school workbook, and you lean back in his chair, letting your eyes wander to the ceiling.

“Alright O’Hara,” The muffled sound of your father’s voice was heard from the outside of the door, followed by some clinking. Causing you to sit in the chair properly before he appeared through the door. “Ima need you to sit tight in this cell for a few days ‘til the state sheriff is able to get down here and give me your reward money.”

To your surprise, a man in cuffs came through the door first. Your eyes widened in silent curiosity as you studied the new mystery man. You've never seen him in town before, because you were certain you would have remembered a man as handsome as him.

He’s getting arrested by my father what the fuck is wrong with me?

Your father didn’t acknowledge your presence, but that didn’t stop the other man’s eyes from falling onto you immediately. The definition of tall, dark and handsome, a towering frame, tan skin, semi-permanent wrinkles in between his brows and at the end of his lips, in indication he scowls too much, and his muscles, they could easily snap you in half if he wanted to. Dark worn out blue jeans, dust brown cowboy boots, a black hat, a flannel that emphasizes his arms with ever movement and-fuck he caught you staring. Warmth flared all over your face as you finally tore your gaze from his, barely catching the small smirk and hmph he let out in amusement. How could he not? When his captor’s daughter is checking him out.

It seems your father didn’t catch your wandering eyes, but he sure as hell caught his mischievous look in his, the rage quickly filling his face as he tossed the larger man in the cell quickly after taking off his cuffs. Locking him in before pointing an accusing finger at him with his right hand, while his left gripped the iron bars tight enough for his knuckles to turn white as he spoke. “Don’t speak to my daughter, don’t look at my daughter, don’t even think about my daughter.” He hissed the threat, before turning over to face you, visibly relaxing as his tone softened. “Ima step out of the room to make a few calls. Yell if he causes you any trouble darlin’.” You nodded, your fathers eyes traveled down to your abandoned work, “And finish your school work, you’re lucky to be attending college.” He added before leaving the room, an uncomfortable silence falling on you and the unknown crook. Keeping your eyes glued to your notebook despite your mind being elsewhere.

“So.” He finally spoke after cleaning his throat, moving to lean against the iron bars of his enclosure. “What’s your name preciosa?” He asked, his head tilting and his lips twitched upwards as he watched you. (Sweetie)

“My father told you not to talk to me.” You fumbled out almost too quickly, the words coming out rushed and almost panicked much to your dismay. Your face warmed up once more as you could feel his eyes bore into you, your eyes remained downwards, your hands balled into fist on your lap as you try not to think about him watching you as if you were in a cage and not him. You were certain if you met his gaze your combust into flash hotter than the sun.

He let out an unamused laugh, shifting his head forward as three of his fingers went to grab the rim of his cowboy hat, taking it revealing his disheveled brown locks, slightly wavy from being covered.

“Does it look like I’m the type to listen to authority, sweetheart?” God the nicknames were making you weak in the knees.

“Well, no-“

“Come on gorgeous,” He cooed, “indulge me.”

You bit on your bottom lip as you mentally battled with the idea, your father probably wouldn’t like the idea, but if it’s just your name, then what’s the harm right?

With a small sigh, you finally gain the courage to meet his gaze, almost dropping it immediately when you notice the look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way your kitten looks at a loose mouse. Like he would pounce on you if he wasn't confined.

“It’s…It’s (Y/N).” You finally utter, it came out meek, soft, you hated how it almost made you sound weak. His brow raised as he brought his hand up to cup around his ear, a silent way of asking you to speak up, but you could tell by the way his smirk pulled up he definitely heard you. With a huff and an eye, you repeat your name, with more confidence this time.

He released a low whistle as his hand dropped again, “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to giggle at the compliment or roll your eyes at the cheesiness, his accident drawing out a bit more while emphasizing beautiful both times. You went with both.

“What’s your name?”you asked, getting up from the chair you were sitting in and making your way towards the cell, not too close but close enough for him to reach for your hand and gently raise it towards his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it, it made your whole body tingle as he threw you a quick wink and a playful smirk.

“Names’ Miguel O’Hara, but you can call me Mig.”

—

Your father had informed you that Miguel would be stuck with him for a few weeks, due to the state chief being preoccupied with the bounty on Jesse James’s head, they were close to changing him apparently and he had all his attention on him at the moment. When Miguel was informed he only scoffed and grumbled, seemingly moody that he wasn’t top priority. You found it funny, it’s as if he wanted a bigger prize money attached to him, coming out a few thousand short of the other man.

You would never admit it, not to your friends, not to your mother and especially not to your father, but you couldn’t help but grow a bit fond of the cowboy. It’s cliché you know, the daughter of a cop falling for the outlaw but it’s hard not too when he’s always complimenting you or calling you pet names, and he knew how to hold a good conversation.

You’ve never acted out too much with your parents before, always did good in school, never snuck out, never went out to meet boys that didn’t ask for permission beforehand. So when you caught yourself sneaking at your father’s work keys in the late hours of the night to sneak out of the house and into the station to talk to the man whose mere existence cost more then the pure-breed horse you took from the stall every night to visit, it was invigorating but also utterly terrifying in the chances of you getting caught. Despite your initial fear, it didn’t mean you didn’t start to get sloppy.

Both with sneaking out, and with the cowboy.

—

A yawn escaped Miguel’s chapped lips as he lazily rubbed his face, trying to fight off sleep as he shifted around in his overly small bed, the only light source he had was the beams of pale moonlight that was seeping from his barred window. Heavy eyelids began to close when they suddenly snapped open at the familiar sound of keys jangling and the rattling of the doorknob opening.

“Took you long enough gatita, though you forgot about me.” Miguel spoke as he watched you with once tired eyes that were now filling with a different emotion as he watched you place your hand lamp on your father’s desk before you head over to him, keys in hand. Although the words seem like a joke, his tone was low and anything but humorous. (Kitten)

“Had to make sure my family was asleep.” You attempted to justify yourself as you unlock his door, not even getting a second to put the keys back in your dress pocket before Miguel grabbed you and pulled you into his room, his mouth greeting yours in a hot needy kiss. The keys drop to the wooden floor with a loud clunk as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck and your fingers tug at the small curls at the back of his neck, only causing him to let out a groan at the pleasurable pain.

You too have been at it for about a week now, ever since your father informed you that the state sheriff would finally head down to your town to take Miguel of of his hands, he would arrive tomorrow morning, meaning tonight was your last with Miguel. He would be taken back to the state capital to be hung the following week.

“Ima miss these sweet lips darlin’…” He mumbled between peppering kisses down your jawline and towards your collarbone. A whine leaving your swollen lips you felt his large hands undo the buttons that cover your chest, leaving another dark hickey on you , before stopping for a second to admire his work. Seven hickeys, one for each day.

Your hands followed his lead, going under his sleeping shirt, wandering against his toned stomach, before he quickly pulled it off, turning you both around so your back was against the wall.

“Can’t get enough of you...”

“Me either…”

“Don’t forget about me (Y/N).”

“I won’t Miguel.”

Your lips quickly reunited with his as he started to drag the cotton fabric down from around your shoulders when the sound of the door office slamming opened caused you both to jump away from each other, a startled yelp escaped from you as you go to over your exposed breast.

Your eyes quickly darted to see who had opened the door, only to felt a lump build in your throat at the sight of your seething father, red face with anger as his shoulders rise and fell rapidly with each erratic breath he took.

“I thought I told you to stay away from my daughter!” He roared as he started to near the cell, making you quickly exit it, closing the door before standing in front of it so he couldn’t get to Miguel. “And you.” His eyes dropped to meet yours, anger, disappointment, betrayal, emotions you’ve never seen him directly towards you, it only made your throat tighter and your stomach drop. “I expect better from you. Do you know how many trains and banks he’s robbed! How many people he’s killed! I don’t want anyone like that near my daughter-“

“But father, I love him!”

Love. You’ve never once said that about a man in your life, you blurted it out without so much as a second thought. But it felt right.

This only made your father scoff. Not even caring about the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You don’t know a thing about love.” He muttered in a low tone that made a shiver run down your back, his eyes narrowing down at you before gripping your forearm as he began to drag you out of his office, despite your best attempts to pull away from him. “It doesn’t matter either way. Tomorrow he’ll be gone, and next week he’ll be dead. You’ll never see him again.” He finished as he dragged you fully out of the building and back towards home, not showing one ounce of pity despite your cries making his heart ache.

—

Once he was alone, Miguel ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He couldn’t even have one last night with you before he’d leave your life forever. A heavy sigh turning into a panic curse when he went to lean against the stall door and to find it not support his body weight as it usually would. Stumbling a bit to regain his balance, it only took him a few seconds to realize that, in your father’s angry rampage, he had forgotten to relock his cell.

—

Taglist: @loser-alert

[jyoongim]

DANGEROUSLY IN LOVE

Word count 1.1k

”he’s a wolf in disguise

but I can’t stop staring in those evil eye

i asked my girlfriend if she’d seen you ‘round before

she mumbled something while she got down on the floor

we’ve might have fucked, not really sure, don’t quite recall

but something tells me that I’ve seen him yeah

that boy is a monster”

alastor x burlesque!reader pt 1

An inaccurate southerner 1920 fic.

I am Black sooooo reader is black for the sake of this and so is Alastor cause that’s a black man idc idc idc fight a skunk.

Monster by lady Gaga really had my juices flowing

themes: Alastor himself is a warning,

violence,

alcohol use,

 drug use, 

nsfw, 

teasing, flirting, taunting, smut, 

banter, possessive/protective behavior  

You hummed a little tune as Mimzy finished doing your makeup and hair. 

Tonight was your first debut at the club and you were excited to be the opening act.

You ran your hands over the tight corset in an attempt to soothe the nervousness that was trying to settle in your belly. You adjusted the feathered headpiece as Mimzy finally finished everything with hairspray (why did set your makeup as well….oh well).

You were finishing up putting on your jewelry when you heard Mimzy gasped, you turned seeing her poking her head out to look out the door out to the growing crowd.

you fixed your lips to ask her what had her so shocked, when she twirled around, eyes wide and excited “He’s here! I can’t believe he here!”

You blinked, confused “who is here Mimzy? One of your little boy toys? Or someone you owe?”

she flipped you off before smirking “what you live under a rock doll? Him! Hell’s Stereo himself!”

Your eyes widened as you gawked “No way!” You ran over to the door to peep without people seeing you and your eyes settled on a lone red, lanky demon sitting at the bar. You couldn’t really see him well from where your dressing room but before you could crane your head out further, Mimzy pulled you back in

”You are suppose to be a surprise doll! Can’t let that lot get a eyeful without proper payment now can we?”

You soon forgot about the red demon as you primped a bit more, chatted with some of the other dancers, and laughed with Mimzy.

 The lights in the club had finally dimmed and Mimzy slapped you on the ass, leaving your dressing room “Knock ‘em dead doll!”

You took a deep breathe as you heard the band begin to play your song.

You straightened your back, and took on a composure that oozed seduction and confidence.

Hearing the beat of the music, you waltzed out onto the stage, giant feathered fans concealing yourself.

The whistles and catcalls never failed to make you nervous, but you used it to fuel your confidence.

You pivoted around the stage, teasing those who tried to steal a look around the fans.

A swing lowered and you took a seat on it and as it rose into the air, you finally revealed yourself in all your glammed glory.

the spotlight prevented you front seeing much of the crowd but your were Able to spot Mimzy, who was chatting with the red demon from earlier.

Your body moved on autopilot, maybe it was from hours of practice or maybe it was because the red demon was drop dead gorgeous. 

He was a rather tall fellow, at least compared to Mimzy.

Lanky build adorned in a red pinstriped suit with a black bowtie. He had a bob-like hair cut, the tips black that was cut into an undercut. Protruding on top of his bang were two little antler like horns and

omg were those ears???? His ears mixed with the color of his hair. 

They reminded you of a deer’s. They seemed to stay alert, sticking forward, never flickering.

His eyes were a bright red, like rubies.

and he had a ever-present sharp smile.

Uncanny. But OH  he was so pretty.

You locked eyes and automatically you flashed him a flirty wink. You half expected him to throw a wink or look away, but instead he held your gaze as he raised his glass in acknowledgment. You felt your cheeks heat up as you tried to focus on your performance.

You swung and twirled on your little perch. Slowly, you started to remove pieces of your costume.

You perched yourself alongside a gentleman and smirked as he practically melted at your touch. You wrapped your boa around his neck and  pressed your fingers lightly to his mouth; he smirked, nipping at your fingertips and slowly dragging your glove off. You glided through the crowd, losing a piece of clothing here and there.

By the time you circled around to the bar, Mimzy was drunk and dancing along to the music and the mysterious demon was tracking your movements.

Hitting a little jig with Mimzy, you were intending to make your way to the lanky devil, when an arm circled around your waist and tugged you into a fella, who obviously had been drinking waaaay too much.

”why don’cha take the rest of these off princess?” He took a swig of whatever cheap liquor and leered at you “i like a gal dripped only in jewels” he snickered.

You frowned and tried to play off his perversion.”sorry dearest but I fear i am simply too much for you” you slapped his hand off of you and made your way to the bar.

Taking a seat, you ordered a bottle of whiskey and manners be damned, you chugged it for a good second.

maybe this’ll put you back in a good mood.

you were too busy sipping your sorrows you didn’t notice that a dark presence had settled beside you.

“And here I thought you were just pretty entertainment ” a deep brawl said from behind you. You turned and let out a soft squeak at the close proximity of the demon you had been eyeing all night. He cocked his head, mouth stretched in a big smile, showing off his sharp teeth. “You kept me waiting for a while doll” 

You could blame the courage on the whiskey, but you smirked at him coyly “and who might you be?” The red demon crouched to your level and raised your bare hand to his lips, keeping eye contact as his grin widened “Alastor doll. Pleasure to meet to you”

[meangirls-imagines]

Welcome to the Poly!Plasticsverse!

collab with: @yungpoetfics (my fav bubs in the world)

Regina George

@queenbgina/@callmereginald (she/her)

North Shore's Queen Bee

Soft for her girlfriends

The mom of the group

Basically a sugar mommy for her girls

Lifehack Geek

TikTok hater

Has rational fear of werewolves

Will fight a bitch

Victoria's Secret girly

Female rapper stan (Doja, Cardi, Megan, etc.)

Gryffindor

Lesbian

Gretchen Wieners

@thegretchenw/@greatgretsby (she/her/it (only if ur special))

The second mom of the group

Softest human

Loves playing with her girlfriends hair

#1 Twilight hater

Has a letterboxd account just to leave bad reviews

The level headed one usually, but will snap when she needs

Cuddly as fuck

Loves Fleur du Mal lingerie

Stubborn as Fuck

Wine drinker/expert

Loves vintage music (Elvis, Elton John, etc.)

Hufflepuff

Bisexual

Karen Shetty

@karebearz/@karensheetty (any pronouns)

Ambidextrous™️

Loves Spongebob

Plant Parent

Knows Britney Spears and Lady Gaga choreo

Kpop girly (Blackpink, BTS, etc.)

Lettering expert

Has Funko Pop collection

Squishmallow lover

Ravenclaw

Pansexual

Cady Heron

@cady_heron/@defnotcaddy (she/her)

The third mom of the group

Whispers when angry

Carries bandaids at all times

Always has snacks

Lactose Intolerant (but LOVES cheese)

Cries at Rom-Coms

LOVES hugs

Cannot handle spicy food

Sleeps with a teddy bear

Happy to be here

Friends with everyone's parents

Token vanilla of the group

Has diary (with a heart shaped lock)

Bisexual

Aaron Samuels

@aaronsammy/@atomicaaron (he/him) or (ho/mie)

1/3 of Terror Trio

Y/N's best friend

North Shore's resident Himbo

Will do anything if someone says "I dare you"

Impulsive buyer

Has one brain cell (shares it with Y/N)

Overuses 💪 emoji

Usually confused

1/2 Golden Retriever duo

Can skateboard

Uses Axe body spray

Co-founder of Stuntmares

Dreams of grabbing a teddy in a claw machine (bucket list item)

Ass man

Owns too many grey sweatpants

Kisses his homies (homiesexual)

Has never watched Harry Potter

Watches lifestyle coaches on YT

Can play the ukulele (really badly)

Loves Eminem and Harry Styles (would fuck Harry Styles)

Writes Larry Stylinson fanfics

Kissed Y/N once (regretted immediately)

Bisexual

Damian Hubbard

@hubbarddamian/@damianishubby (he/him/they)

Learned how to sew from Janis

Does drag and has a YT channel (Anita Dick)

Huge Adore Delano stan

Will fight anyone who hurts Janis

Doesn't like Rupaul as a person, but is a religious Drag Race fan

#1 Poly!Plastics fan

Has an 8 step skincare routine

Cameraman for Stuntmares

Earlybird

Lies about having curfew to go to sleep early

Ravenclaw

(Lowkey wishes he was a Slytherin bc it's the "cuntiest house"

Him and Karen watch The Bachelor

Fav movie is Dirty Dancing (did the lift with Janis)

Learned how to twerk from Y/N

Gay

Janis Imi'Ike

@janiisimiike/@imiikenough (she/they)

Secret Barbie girly(live action and animated movies)

Will go straight for Ryan Gosling

Feral chihuahua of the group

Hozier stan

HATES THE KARDASHIANS

Pain in Regina's ass

Anger Issues™️

Secretly loves Olivia Rodrigo

Mentally Ill friend

Emotional Drunk

Karaoke Queen

Tits girly

Leather Jacket lesbian

Getting piercings > therapy

Has a suit collection

Thrifter

Loves her friends

Dog person (secretly)

Quotes niche memes

Kinky af

Middle Child

Lesbian

Y/N Y/L/N (FC: Chrissy Costanza)

@thisbeyn/@reginaslefttit (she/he/they/it)

2/3 Terror Trio

2/2 Golden Retriever duo

Has matching fried egg tattoo with Aaron.

Co-Founder of Stuntmares

"Hi, I'm Y/N and welcome to Stuntmares" *jumps off roof into pool*

Cuts her own hair

Blooper Reel Queen

North Shore's resident stoner

AUDHD (autistic + ADHD)

Playlists range from Beethoven to ashnikko

"IT'S NOT A PHASE. IT'S A LIFESTYLE."

Demisexual

Plays electric guitar

Has slight speech impediment

Gremlin of the group

D&D Dungeon Master

ALWAYS falls asleep during movie night

Power Nap Addict™️

Insomniac

Monster Energy Drink Enthusiast (collects the cans)

Oddly good at Origami

Tweets everything she thinks

Has been banned from Fortnite and Roblox

Married to Gretchen on The Sims (regina and karen were sad)

Anger issues

✨Spicy✨ Latina (do not fuck with her people)

Matching rings with her gfs

Def had one night stand with Cady

Shane Oman

@shaneomann/@omantastic (he/him) or (dumb/hoe)

Loves Old School Rap (Biggie, Tupac, Snoop Dogg, etc.)

Hates Y/N at first but comes to love her like a sister.

Only person who can outsmoke Y/N.

Has a dropped truck with red LED lights under it.

Blasts music walking down the halls.

Always has the zoomies.

Orange cat friend.

Has elevator music playing in his head 24/7.

Challenged Damian to a dance off. (He lost. But he had girls simping over him)

Posts thirst traps on TikTok. (Regina's mom is his #1 follower)

Has a frying pan tattooed to match Aaron and Y/N.

Always on Stuntmares trying to create new world records.

Or eating a bunch of weird combos.

"Oman! Not again!" *proceeds to eat a marshmallow and spam sandwich*

Ralph Lauren man

Whenever the polycule argues, he's a "fuck this shit, I'm out" person.

Professional party crasher

Dine and Dash expert

Has nipple piercings (Aaron and Y/N dared him to get them)

Curses like a fucking sailor (Half of his lines on Stuntmares are just censor beeps)

Talks way too fast.

Knows Italian and Spanish (Him and Y/N talk shit in Spanish)

His ringtone for Aaron and Y/N is the remix of the Windows error sound

Loves t-shirts with offensive prints (Regina tries to make him dress normally)

Has gc with Aaron and Y/N called "Hoemies"

Would fuck Aaron

TICKLISH

Major gossip (Him and Gretchen meet once a week to talk shit)

[lorei-writes]

HC: Awfully Similar

Chevalier, Clavis, Leon, Jin, Silvio ~1k words Premise: Little (awful) ways in which his child is (awfully) similar to him.

Chevalier

His daughter does not reply to questions when the answer is positive. Additionally, ever since she has learnt to speak in full sentences, she took a liking to the words "indeed" and "drivel".

"Say 'aaah'."

"Drivel, papa."

"Your throat is sore. You have to drink your syrup."

"Indeed. Still, drivel, papa."

His son is dreadfully difficult in the mornings. It's so bad that only Chevalier is (generally) able to wake him up. (That being said, waking Chevalier up is still a herculean task, the difficulty level of which has only been increasing with each child. Uncle Clavis is devastated whenever he has to look after his nephews and nieces... or makes the mistake of scheduling anything before noon.)

None of them like breakfasts -- the only way to get them to eat it is having either of their parents to prepare it. No matter how hard Chevalier tries, they declare to like their mother's cooking better... possibly to mess with him a little bit. (Chevalier? Jealous? Over such trivial matter? What drivel.)

His youngest son has inherited his intimidating aura. Overall, he looks just like Chevalier when he was little. However, much like Clavis, he's also a ball of chaotic laughter. The juxtaposition gives his uncles whiplash every single time.

Clavis

His son is awfully dramatic.

"Father! Guard! I am being taken from this world, the dawn lights shall welcome me no more!" <- he has fallen and scratched his knee while on a walk with Cyran

"Mother loves me not, papa."

"Oh? Why should you say that?"

"Why? Isn't it obvious? She's cooked me brussels sprouts."

His son is also vert studious when it comes to learning. His primary interests lie in physics and... literature, which explains some of his peculiar claims. (Luckily, Clavis knows how to manage a library.)

Clavis' younger son enjoys pranks and experiments, or better yet, doing both at once. Especially if the target is to be his sister (the youngest sibling). He's also taken to picking locks -- preparing ones he cannot open is something of an evolutionary race between him and his father. Ah, those alluring cabinets with chemical reagents! (Clavis has taught him how to pick locks. He caused this.)

That being said, the little lady of the bunch has a frightful foresight (much like her uncle). The pranks never succeed. (Were she not a near-perfect copy of Clavis appearance-wise, they'd likely wonder whether she was truly his daughter.)

Leon

All of his children. All of them. Sneak. Out. And to make matters worse? They split up, so if Leon wants them back at the palace, he needs to independently track down at least three people (the youngest ones usually do not leave their older siblings). Sometimes they also bring friends along! (Clavis' children are the friends.)

Another growing issue-non-issues is that they have made friends in town and now sneak them into the palace. Which, admittedly, is not something Leon is particularly bothered by (assuming he is distracted from the very real possibility of his children being kidnapped, as now everybody knows they are royalty -- nickname change from "Black" to "White" may occur in the next few years). However, the same cannot be said about the visiting nobles.

No matter how much food there was to begin with, none is ever left on the table. His son's have... healthy... appetites.

Both of his daughters are avid readers. However, they tend to get tired easily when reading... so they alternate. They usually pick a book together and read it aloud. (2 pages - change of the reader - 2 pages - change - ... )

Jin

Jin has two children, a daughter and a son. His daughter is an effortless charmer -- pretty like a doll, with infectious laughter and jokes that somehow caught on even when all she could say was "gugu gaga". (...At least Jin laughed?) Meanwhile, his son gets into situations. Shirtless.

That being said, it isn't necessarily wrong for his son to get involved. After all, he always does it to protect one of his cousins or his sister (...or to cover for them, but well, solidarity is appreciated). But why shirtless?

They both fight over lollipops. All. The. Time. And when they don't fight over them, they cry due to having none. They are not going to have unlimited teeth in their life! Good dental habits need to be established early on! (Jin also cries in lollipop rehab. Solidarity!)

Jin may have only two children, but their little family also includes four dogs. His children have an interesting affinity towards finding animals in need of help, both wild and domesticated. (You could say that Jin got roped into running the first -- unofficial -- animal shelter & rescue in the entirety of Rhodolite. He's managed to rehome the majority of the animals brought in... save for those four dogs. He just couldn't say "no" after his children nursed them back to health. He was and still is proud of them for doing that.)

Silvio

His daughter (3 years old) tries to open everything with a kick first. And by everything I mean everything -- a book? Kick! Doll house? Kick! Cabinet door? Kick! Balcony door? First she walks into it and then she kicks.

Silvio's at a loss there. He can't exactly have her wear steal cap boots. (Or... can he?)

To make matters worse, Silvio has made the mistake of taking his older daughter to the docks. She was interested in ships and his work! He wanted to show her! He really had good intentions!

And now she curses like a six years old sailor. Which is to say, poorly and fairly inaccurately, but in large quantities. And she sure is teaching this to her younger sister.

Their favourite game to play is called "Jingle-Jangle", which is a cute term for breaking into their father's closet and turning themselves into an ornate human orchestra. They put on all of Silvio's jewellery and then run through the palace, every so often losing a ring or a necklace, or perhaps both. It creates a convenient trail for Carlo (or Silvo, or Emma -- whoever is first at the scene) to follow... Provided that nobody takes it first. ("Ha?! Papa is so rich he could buy you anything!" were Silvio's famous last words.)

You've seen a typo? Let me know!

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti @claviscollections @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @leonscape

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

[heeseung-min]

[13:25]

I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me

Papa-paparazzi

Click! Click! Click!

Sunghoon smiled widely at the result of pictures that he just took. It's not just a random picture of scenery but it is a picture of you. An exclusive picture that neither your fans or any reporter could get this.

"Fuck, y/n. Why are you so beautiful even when you are sleeping?"

Sunghoon stopped capturing your pictures and laid on the bed beside you instead. He started to caressed your body enjoying the smooth skin. Ahh, the pills he purchased really works. You sleep like a log and can't even heard when he came in or when he accidentally broke one of your plates. Don't worry he will get a new one for you. It's not like you will notice if one of it gone missing. For now, he just wanted to enjoy this moment before the drugs in your body started to wear off.

"Promise I'll be kind, but I won't stop...until you are mine y/n."

Sunghoon smirked to himself as he changed the lyrics of his favourite song aka Paparazzi by Lady Gaga. The first time he heard the song while he was driving it instantly became his favourite.

______________________________________

"Are you okay, Y/n?" Aira, your manager asked as she politely asking the staff in the room to leave both of you alone.

You were not in the mood and feel very weak. You don't want to suddenly cancel the shoot when people already prepare everything. However, your body feel so fragile right now.

"I don't know Aira. I think I slept a lot last night but somehow I still got headache and I feel pain on my body."

"Maybe you are still tired, Y/n. Plus, your schedule is so tight nowadays so probably you didn't get enough rest. I will leave you alone in this room and will be back in 30, okay?"

"Thanks, Aira."

After few minutes Aira left the room, you felt relief and slowly your breathing became slow and your eyes dropping and went to a deep sleep.

Aira also went to somewhere else and that left the front door with no guard. A man with completely black attire and mask came in and locked the door from inside.

Sunghoon took off his mask and smirked when he saw you were alone and sleeping peacefully. He went to crouch in front of you and stare at your face. Oh how sweet looking you are. The dress you were wearing right now slightly showing your skin making Sunghoon blushing at his dirty thought about you.

"Fuck, you can't torture me like this Y/n."

He muttered as he leaned closer to your face and stared straight at your lips. It wouldn't hurt to leave a peck on your lips, right? He's been holding it for a long time.

"Just one, baby."

And with that Sunghoon left a kiss on your lips. He groaned at the sweet taste of your lipbalm. He literally need to control himself from doing more. It's too risky to do it now.

______________________________________

Baby, you'll be famous

Chase you down until you love me

Papa-paparazzi

"Y/n, are you still cannot go out?"

"No, Aira. I- I'm scared."

"Look, I know it's a serious matter but we hired many bodyguards for you. You will be safe, y/n. It's been three weeks since you went out from your house."

You discovered about your stalker few weeks ago when you saw an envelope without any details on it. You were shocked to see your pictures like this person literally followed you everywhere. Studio, cafe, restaurant, shopping malls and there's even pictures when you travel to another country. At first, you reported it to Aira about it and continue living your day. However, it didn't stop. After the first envelope came, another one came and another one until you feel so scared to leave your house. You even asked the security guard if he saw someone suspicious but he denied that and even the CCTV didn't have any record of someone put the envelope inside your mailbox. You started to isolate yourself and only contact Aira when you need something.

"I'll wait at the lobby, okay? Just call me if something is happening."

"Alright, I'm sorry, Aira.

"No need, I understand what u feel."

You finally went out from your apartment and walked to lobby and saw Aira with few male behind her. You assumed it was the bodyguards she talked about at the phone just now.

"Y/n, this is your bodyguards. The director choose them by himself. They have a clean record and most of them know martial arts so it's good for you."

Everyone started to introduce themselves and you just nodded at what they said until the last man showing his hand for you to shake.

"Good morning, Miss Y/n. My name is Park Sunghoon. It's nice to meet you."

"Ahh, yeah hi Park Sunghoon. Me too."

You took his hand and shook it for few seconds. Maybe it's true you will be safe since you have few guys protecting around you. You won't get any letter from the stalker anymore.

Cause he become your bodyguard now. It's easier to look at you like this.

Aight finally im finish with this😮‍💨😮‍💨I wanted to post it sooner but ergghh I was too sick and weak🤧😔 I recently got better but still suffering a bit but its for yall😊😊 hope u guys enjoy and nope no part 2 for this one okay

Taglist: @obsessed1with1straykids @huggyuvita @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @eeunoia

[chocsra]

"Sweep Me Off My Feet, Honey-coated Words."

Chuuya x fem! reader oneshot - 'My Demon' inspired (kdrama)

a/n: i haven't wrote like this in a while! lmk if u want this as a series!! ALSO THIS IS BASED OFF MANGA CHUUYA. NO BLUE EYES 🤕🤕

summary: after being chased by a mysterious killer, a gravity manipulator saves you, only to switch abilities with you, leaving him powerless unless you two touch.. but apparently, you've met before?

Who is a friend and who is a foe?

Misty skies flow through the light air of dark streets. 11:34 AM, that's enough to feel the pit of your stomach drop in fear, absolute horror. You feel your feet being dragged across asphalt streets even if you stumble or feel tears falling along the way. Just a few hours ago, you picked up an Uber sleepily, wandering a cold beach, another figment of a lonely night.

When you found yourself waking up on a dark road still seated in the car, the loneliness dropped for a second, goosebumps rose and eyes scanned. The mysterious Uber driver adjusted his cap so that it covered his face in the car's front mirror, you opened your phone hesitantly to check the app, only to find that your selected uber was 32 minutes away.

A disoriented stare ran from your phone to the back of his head, fear coursed through every vein, a lump caught in your throat, fuck.

Through a punch and a kick, you dashed out of the car and took rugged steps for preparation as you see your driver pull a sharp blade out, a box cutter. Rugged steps turned into uneven running as your feet clashed harshly onto the asphalt, sucking in sharp breaths, exhaling even sharper ones; the dry air piercing out could slice skin itself.

A dead end arose as you ran, hopeless dread pulling at your feet, the once fiery and piercing breath turned shallow as you trembled. The cold, dark air preparing you for an even colder blade piercing.. God knows where.

Then you saw him, him.

A man, not so tall, who drenched from the dark, emerged from the shadows. It was as if the glow of the moon reflected off his ivory, smooth skin. There was something about him that seemed so.. foreign. To his silky copper hair, bangs that framed his face messily, and a few specific locks that rested on his left shoulder - such an unusual haircut, one that showcased slight sweat and a disehelved look despite his fancy attire.

He had eyes that naturally seemed low-lided, tired stormy grey eyes that you could make through his long lashes; a shine that was printed on his undereyes, one that presented the curves of it. His pinkish lips were tugged into a soft smirk, his hands stuffed in pockets.

The man walked ever so carelessly, as if he were used to lurking in the dark, and watching others drown in it. An expensive raven fedora adorned his hair with a pristine chain hooking around the piece, along with a black bolo tie, a leather choker, and white button up shirt. A long overcoat was thrown loosely over his broad shoulders, with a fitted grey vest and black blazer underneath. You took in his black dress shoes and matching slacks, before he halted, almost making you.. choose between them.

Something about him was also off, incredibly off, one that made your insides swirl and rummage for an answer. So, who is a friend and who is a foe? Crime inhabited every street and alleyway in Yokohama, there may be no safe option, but there is safer.

"Help me!" You run up to the suited man, adrenaline coursed through every vein, pumping to your pounding heart. "He's.. he's trying to kill me!" The man averted his stormy eyes to you, on you, tilting his head as if he were trying to clarify your statement. "And what do I get in return?" A crisp, raspy voice rolled off his tongue like candy, but his words were anything but sweet.

You dart your eyes back to the walking killer, face contorting in confusion, "Consider it a favour." he rasps, sleepy cat-like eyes barely gazing at you. "A favour?" your brows furrow in disdain and repulsion, what kind of life threatening situation deserves a deal in return? A mere business exchange?

"My boss told me we needed more men for infiltration," he clicks his tongue, the glint of the sharp blade inching closer.. and closer. "I think you're perfect." He explains ever so vaguely, "I can't just agree to something so vague.." you purse your lips, head turning as time feels so slow, so slow and so dangerous, "Do you want to live or what?" the man downright scoffs. "Fine." you mumble, biting your inner cheek before he nods his head arrogantly, like you made a respectable, good, choice.

"Noted," the man responds as the criminal behind you lengthens the box cutter to it's max length, you whip your head around in fear before a crushing force pierces the man's chest, dropping the box cutter in the process, blood coughs out of his mouth as his back clashes into the car's front window. Glass shatters and the dashcam runs crushed, lines of blood dribble out the killer's temple and forehead, body disehelved and messily thrown. From the corner of your eye, you see the same shine of the redhead's dress shoe, perfectly angled at the fallen man as he chuckles darkly, hands still shoved in his pockets.

"We've been waiting for you," He inquires, casually striding to the bloody man, "You have a debt to pay." the words roll off his tongue so perfectly, each consonant, vowel, each felt dipped in honey, even as he grabs a fistful of the man's hair, baring his teeth in a smirk devilishly.

'You have a debt to pay' rang in your ears almost irrevocably, there was a catch to his deal, isn't there? A mystery man whose bones crushed under his foot so casually, the wet stainted lips the redhead had, it was covered in lies, deceit, wasn't it? So, who is a friend and who is a foe? If there's one person to trust, it's yourself.

Your feet broke from the shackles holding you in place, from the feeling of your gut, you should've trusted yourself from the beginning, you should've decided what you wanted for your fucking self. You took your feet and ran away from them both, whatever debt he has to pay, he could pay it, whatever deal you had to go through, could suck your fucking dick.

Crash.

The beaten man was thrown right in front of your path of running, landing harshly onto the road; you halted immediately as the pavement cracked and debris emerged. The stormy-eyed man kept his gaze set on the half-dead one, his bones were messily twisted, a look of agony and hatred sent like fluid to each of his veins.

"Miss," you heard a familiar, sugar-coated voice dripping to your attention. The man again, smug, arrogant face dropped for a second, not with a look of sincerity, but rather seriousness. It overtook your breath with the smell of his musky colonge and cigarettes.

"we had a deal too."

You stopped for a second, maybe more than that - he finally stuffed his hand out of his pocket and extended it to you, revealing a gloved, large hand. His fashion was intricately overdressed, you could see from head to toe, he was dripping in a virginal assortment of accessories - rich in flavour, and extravagant in taste. He extended his hand gentle but firmly, undertones of something more lurking under his refined gloves, as if grasping his hand would seal your unknown deal. You stared up at him through your lashes; unbeknownst and rather innocent.

Time is wasting, but is 'waste' a proper word for a moment so enchanting?

Then, a sudden roar of a car's lights awoken and came crashing onto you two, the man, clearly taken off-guard, grabbed your hand, and pushed both of you off the road. Suddenly, you feel the once enamouring misty air blind you as you feel a firm hand grasp onto your wrist, another arm wrapped around your shoulder. A limp, fleeting rush of air flew past you two, as you crash into the lake below you.

Dim shines of city lights prick through the surface of the airy water. Lukewarm but cold quivered and raked through your skin as your hair splays in the lake. Dark corals of reefs peek against your vision as you turn your head around, only to see the same man, your saviour, sinking in the water asleep, his grey eyes were closed shut as his long lashes compliment his skin underneath the shimmer of the moonlight, along with a glow of red outlining his features. His fedora was nowhere to be found, only revelling his silky copper locks. He, without the fedora looked familiar, a little too familiar.

Wait.

You remember him now, all too well.

Chuuya Nakahara.

"I'll be honest, I think blind dates are completely useless."

An elegant man dressed in a fancy black tuxedo had his arms folded in the chair across from yours, almost sleeping in such a fancy restaurant. He had glowly copper hair with bangs that framed his face quite nicely, the sunlight from the open window shining through his locks delightfully too. The man's hair was on the longer side too, so he had it pushed into a half-ponytail, how pretty.

"Since when was this a date?" a raspy, no nonsense voice grumbled from his pinkish lips, his eyes still pinched shut. "I'm sorry?" you scoff, "Didn't Mori set you up with me?" you scan your eyes around the restaurant intently, the whole place was empty, it seems that the restaurant was reserved empty just for this 'date'. "Mori?" the redhead perks his head up, now setting his undivided attention towards you, "Yeah.. Mori." you nodded your head slowly, hinting that your fellow classmate set you up on a blind date with one of his friends.

"Why? He's not really into stuff like that." his brows furrow at you, leaning forward in his seat, now manspreading. "He said that you were.. 'a ladies man.' I guess he thought we were a good match." you inhale deeply, leaning back onto your chair. "Tch," he scoffs, turning his head to the side, still smiling,

"I guess you could say that."

"So how did your date go?"

you were currently walking on campus, your classmate, Mori, bumping into you. "Like shit. You were so lying about the whole ladies man part!" you snicker, still slightly irritated, your friend looked a little offended for his friend, but sighed. "Looks aren't everything, y'know, he's a really good guy when ya get to know him."

You quirk a brow at your friends revelation, "Huh? Looks were all he had! He was cocky, an asshole, had the worst manners, the most secretive bitch I've met, and talked about some secret occult society he was in!" counting the amount of times your date pissed you off on your fingers, if you kept going, you would need more than two hands.

Your friend beside you raised a brow more than once, "Hold on, what the fuck are you talking about?" he motioned harshly, "That's what I'm asking you!" you halt your steps, turning to face him. "Why the fuck did you set me up with him?!"

"Relax, what was his name? Was he the guy with glasses, tall, black hair?" you dart your eyes around your surroundings completely confused, "What? His.. his name was Chuuya Nakahara, I think." your friend pulls out his phone to show a picture of four friends having a drink at a bar, one matching exactly his description. "That's him. Who the hell did you go out with?"

Well shit.

'Seriously?! That crazy bitch from the cafe?' you thought, submerged in water, bubbles floating from both of your mouths to the surface. Excruciatingly and hesitantly enough, you pulled his wrist from the sinking body of water, and swam to the nearest surface of land. Barely noticing the red outline of his body travelling to yours.

Chuuya awoke on a shallow pile of land, surrounded by the lake's water. He rubbed his temple sleepily as he groaned, seeing your sleeping figure through lazy eyes. What did he get himself into? The redhead pushed your hair out of your face to get a closer look, not minding when he sees your eyes fluttering open. Then, he saw a poking tattoo of black ink written across your neck.

A5158.

Several pants of flashbacks flow through his head, you rise disoriented, rubbing your head as you look up at him. He looks at you with discontent, eyes that usually told a powerful story, every speck of grey took you out of the honey he dipped his words in. But now, he looked shocked, almost unreadable; enigmatic.

"..What happened?" you mumble, unaware of the glowly red outline running along your figure, to each strand of your hair, to the curve of your arms. The redhead firmly held your wrist, the lines of red connecting to him, the curve of his shoulder, the juncture of his neck, even the sharp line of his jaw. A large wave of clear, water splash behind you two, filtering the gaps of sunlight capturing the slope of his cheek. Chuuya stammers, an unreadable desire chasing from him to you.

"What.. did you do to me?"

taglist: @sstarshroom @soleelia @tomiroro

[alwayschoppedtaco]

hate is a strong word, don’t you think ll m.v.

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader

warnings: some angst? not super angsty, mentions of a crash on the track-no one is hurt- (mercedes v red bull), mentions of alcohol and partying, google translate dutch and french (in this, you can speak french) it’s mostly just fluff

summary: you’ve never gotten along with max, but that can all change after an action filled day leads to some late night conversation

word count: 1.0k

my masterlist

“What a fucking idiot!” the crackle of the team radio comes right after you hit the barriers, informing the team that you are both okay and angry. “He knows that he should have left space, what a sore loser!”

The anger doesn’t subside on your walk back to the Mercedes garage after you brush off the marshals who direct you to the medical area, instead it is left to bubble up in your stomach, thoughts of the podium and just how close you were to it acting as a catalyst for your rage.

Your anger doesn’t pass as you watch the blundering idiot who caused your little crash cross the finish line with enough of a lead that his five second penalty does absolutely nothing. Instead, it is left once again to fester inside you as you go through the motions of post-race media duties, trying to patiently answer all of the clearly baited questions in a professional way.

It doesn’t dissipate as you change out of your sweaty race suit, slipping into a clean pair of pants and a shirt that is branded with the Mercedes logo. It only slightly lessens as you look at your teammate and his second place trophy, deciding to be happy for him and the team.

That’s the reason you don’t say no to Lewis when he invites you to an after party with the team to celebrate the first podium of the season and all the hard work put into this weekend.

You’re already three drinks in by the time Max strolls in, Daniel and Checo coming in with him. You have to physically restrain the urge to roll your eyes as you watch the Red Bull drivers walk in, downing your drink and motioning for another.

Max makes eye contact with you as you get your drink, a smirk making its way onto his lips. Your eyes narrow at him, turning your back to him as anger floods in again.

It takes everything in you not to walk over and do something you would regret, instead moving away from the bar and over to where your team is situated. Lewis motions for you to sit next to him at the table, some of the team members making way for you to sit there.

You only reason you got up from the booth where you were sat was to grab another drink. Excusing yourself, you make your way towards the bar.

“I will have an-” your interrupted before you can finish your sentence.

“daar is ze!” Max stumbles over to you, his drunken Dutch words not making sense to you. “Ik was je aan het zoeken!” there you are! I have been looking for you!

You scoff at his words, automatically assuming he was poking fun at you in his native tongue.

“Max, just leave me alone.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, heading back over to the Mercedes table. Max is left alone at the bar, watching your retreating figure.

The rest of the night passes you by in a blur. Flashing lights and the deep reverb of the bass, along with the multitude of drinks, prompting you to pull Lewis onto the dance floor. Your hips sway to the music, letting your thoughts of the podium and incident leave your head, instead focusing on whatever terrible remix of Lady Gaga is playing.

You feel his eyes burning into you as you sway to the music, locking eyes with him. His blue eyes stare into your own, not breaking eye contact as he makes his way over to you.

“Y/N!” Max starts, yelling over the loud music. “ik wilde zeggen dat het me spijt” I wanted to say I’m sorry

“Max!” You are more open to conversation with him now that you have significantly more alcohol in your system. “I can’t understand Dutch!”

 The laugh that leaves your mouth has Max hooked. The both of you drunkenly stumble out of the club in hopes of having a real conversation, the loud music still audible outside.

“I said that I am sorry, Y/N!” Max is still shouting, causing you to giggle louder and place your finger on his lips with an overexaggerated “shhh”

“No need to shout, Maximilian.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Its close enough.” Your drunken giggles continue as you talk, forcing the mumbled words out through your laughs. “Why did you not leave any room?”

“I didn’t mean to ruin your race, Y/N.” The way he says your name has you sobering up a bit, and the intense way he looks at you has you forgetting why you were ever mad at him.

“Oh mon dieu, pourquoi as-tu besoin d'avoir de si beaux yeux?” Its your turn to say something he doesn’t understand, the French going completely over his head. Oh god, why do you have to have such pretty eyes?

“What was that?”

“I said that you have really nice eyes that need to stop looking at me like that!” He is speechless after you admit it, letting a tense silence blanket the two of you.

He slowly reaches out towards you, one hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You have really nice eyes too.” The admission from him paired with his hands on your face have you forgetting everything about the race, the only thing on your mind being the man in front of you.

“Max.” His name rolls off your tongue, a silent dare for him to do something.

He takes the dare, his other hand coming to cup your neck as he leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. He finally connects your lips together, the taste of gin lingering on his mouth. Your thoughts are drowned out by Max, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck pulling him closer as you continue to kiss, cliché butterflies erupting in your stomach.

You only pull away when you need air, moving away from Max but still keeping eye contact.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.” The words catch you by surprise, never knowing Max felt like that.

“I always thought you didn’t like me.”

“Never.”

~

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Shades of Grey || CL16 {2}

Summary: You see the lasting effects of your crash on Charles and wish you could ease his suffering. Warnings: 18+ only, reader injuries, angst. Word Count: 2k

F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four ||

Pierre and Arthur caught up to Charles before he could leave without them and Arthur shoved himself between Charles and the driver’s door he was opening, stopping his brother from getting behind the steering wheel. 

“You’re not in the right state to drive,’ Arthur said softly as he held his hand out for the keys. “Let me.”

Charles looked ready to argue but Pierre was quicker and swiped the keys from where they hung limp in Charles’ hand. “Fine, but I can’t go to the hospital. Just take me back to the airport.”

They nodded and Pierre opened the back door where you slipped into the seat and shuffled silently across before Charles followed. Pierre’s fingers ran along the inside of the door before he shut it and you frowned as he whispered to Arthur who nodded in agreement.

The moment the car started it connected to Charles’ phone and started to play one of his many playlists. Pierre’s eyes searched the rearview mirror for his friend as he reached for the stereo to turn off the song but Charles shook his head.

“Leave it,” Charles muttered dejectedly as the words to The Scientist began and Chris Martin’s voice filled the sedan.

Charles stared lifelessly out the window not seeing the changing scenery as Arthur drove to Bologna. He was lost to the recesses of his mind and the words of the song that had taken on a new meaning since your accident. 

“Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be so hard.” His lips silently sung along to the chorus and pressed his forehead to the cool window pane. 

“Oh, take me back to the start,” you finished softly for him when his lip trembled and he pinned them shut with a deep swallow.

Charles startled as his eyes connected with yours in the reflection of the glass and he spun around only to deflate at the sight of an empty seat beside him. 

“Charles?” You waved your hand in front of him, hoping he could see you but he stared right through you. 

“Charles?” Pierre asked, pulling his attention away from you and Charles turned to his worried friend. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he lied, “I just thought I saw…nevermind.” The car fell silent and Charles went back to staring out the window. It wasn’t until the car began to slow that he untangled himself from his head and realised it was not the airport parking complex they were pulling into. “No, no, I’m not…I can’t.”

He reached for the door, ready to flee on foot, but it wouldn’t open. He flicked the lock back and forth, ramming his shoulder into the trim, but it would budge. He narrowed his eyes at Pierre who slunk back into his seat as Charles realised who had activated the child lock on his door.

“Let me out of the fucking car.”

“Charles, I know you’re scared but she’s alone in there. She would be by your side if it was the other way around.”

“And you’ve never spent a birthday apart,” Arthur added as he turned in his seat and pinned his brother with a stare. 

“I don’t want to have my last memory of her being laid up in bed hooked up to a bunch of machines. I want to remember her…alive.”

A growl of protest clawed out of Pierre’s throat but he kept his opinion to himself as they sat at a stalemate in the car. No one said a thing as the air grew heavy and a new song came on, one that you couldn’t stand. The moment was tense enough that you didn’t want the song adding to it and you reached over the seat, brushing through both Arthur’s and Pierre’s shoulders before hitting your hand against the stereo.

“What the…?” Arthur recoiled with a shiver and Pierre ran his hand over his arm that had gone through you.

The song skipped like a scratched CD and it changed over Hold My Hand, the Lady Gaga song a favourite of his after watching Maverick with you on one of the many late nights you couldn’t sleep before a race. 

Charles stared at the title moving across the small screen on the stereo and his trembling hand gripped his buckle, his thumb slowly pushing down on the release as the song called to him. 

Hold my hand, everything will be okay I heard from the heavens that clouds have been grey Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms I see that you're hurtin', why'd you take so long

The belt released with a deafening click and Charles swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked at his brother and friend. “Let me out.”

The words were barely above a raspy whisper but Arthur nodded and got out so he could open the back door. Arthur had felt the change in his tone and knew his older brother was done running.

“I need to do this alone,” Charles murmured as he reached your private room in the Intensive Care Unit. 

“Of course,” Pierre said, nodding his head to the waiting room and placing his hand on Charles’ shoulder. “We’ll wait over there. Take as long as you need.”

Charles waited until they were both seated before he worked up the courage to push open the door. He closed his eyes, picturing you as he had last seen you.

You had been standing off to the side of your car, your earplugs blocking out the world around you as you prepared for the race. Your eyes had been closed, your hands moving as you mentally practised the turns of the track, your fingers shifting up and down the imaginary gears. 

He had watched you with fascination when he should have been doing his own last minute prep. By the time you had looked up his team had already called him back to the front of the grid and far away from where you remained.

With a deep breath, he lifted his hand and pressed his palm to the cold metal plate but he didn’t have the strength to push it until you placed your hand over his. The door creaked as it swung open and the sharp scent of disinfectant filled the room that was quiet except for the steady whoosh of the ventilator that was filling your lungs with oxygen.

You froze in the doorway as you saw yourself on the bed and Charles stumbled to a stop too. His hands hung limp at his sides and a sob filled the room as he crumpled forward to grab your hand.

“Charles?” Arthur asked quietly as he followed the sound of his brother’s pained cry.

The ghost of a sensation tickled your face and you watched numbly as Charles stroked your cheek, careful not to touch the tube strapped to your mouth. 

“She looks like she’s sleeping.”

Arthur rubbed his brother’s back. “She is.”

Charles shrugged the touch away, not seeing the hurt in his brother’s eyes. “No, she’s not.”

“You’re not the only one who cares about her. While you were off living your dream we were left behind, training together day in and day out,” Arthur snapped as he walked around your bed and sat at the edge of the window ledge. “You’re all she talked about. Even when you raced like shit and lost she would support you. She remained positive. The least you can do is have the same fucking decency.”

Charles tore his eyes away from your face that he still stroked gently. “She talked about me?”

“You’d think the sun shone out of your ass.” Arthur shook his head and dragged a hand down his face with a sigh. “She could be having a terrible session on the sim and be in a real mood but then she’d suddenly be smiling again because you sent some stupid meme to her.”

You hadn’t realised anyone had paid so much attention to you, or that you had been so transparent. Those small messages had meant the world to you because it meant that for that moment in time Charles had been thinking about you and spared a few seconds out of his busy day to make you smile.

Colour spread across Charles’ cheeks and chased away the grey pallor as he blushed shyly and looked nervously away from Arthur. The longer he looked at you, the more colour seeped into the room chasing away the shades of grey that had saturated your world since the crash.

“Oh, I didn’t realise Miss Y/L/N had visitors,” a nurse interrupted as the door swung open.

Charles wiped at the tears that had been silently falling since he walked in and rose from the chair, his hand slipping from yours. The colour drained away and a chill swept over you as he stepped away.

“You don’t have to leave, I’m just checking her charts.” The nurse picked up the clipboard at the foot of the bed but it caught the sheet and lifted it up. Before she could tuck it back in Charles was there, pulling the sheet higher and reaching for your feet.

“She hated sleeping with socks on,” he said with a thickness that choked his voice as he started to pull them off.

The nurse’s lips turned down as she stopped him and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry but these are compression socks to help stop clots from forming. They need to stay on for now. She won’t even notice them.” 

Arthur flinched as he knew how well his brother would take that and he pushed off from his perch on the window ledge to follow Charles as he stormed out.

“She meant, Y/N won’t be uncomfortable. Research proves coma patients can still be aware of their surroundings, Charles, she might still be able to hear you.”

“Please, Arthur, just stop.” Charles’ hands turned to fists at his side as he spun on his little brother. “You’re a fixer, I get it, but you can’t make this better! She’s gone!”

There was nothing you could do to heal his pain as he walked out of the room more broken than when he had entered and when you reached the threshold you slammed into an invisible wall. The heaviness in your feet returned as it had been at the race track and you screamed for Charles as he walked away, and never looked back.

The door swung slowly shut, trapping you within the four walls as you pound your fists uselessly against the small window that showed Charles’ retreating figure. He couldn’t leave, you needed him. More importantly, you needed him to know you were still there. He needed to know you hadn’t left him.

The shadows in the room grew darker with each step he took until nothing remained but a void threatening to swallow you whole and you slipped down the door to a crumpled heap on the cold floor. 

A shout drew you from the darkness and the steady squeak of someone running along the corridor had you pulling yourself back to your feet to peek through the window as the door slammed open. Heat filled you as Charles sprinted back in the room, passing through you as he rushed to your side and skidded to a stop.

The nurse cast her eyes over his dishevelled hair and red rimmed eyes before slipping out of the room quietly, closing the door behind her before Arthur and Pierre could enter. “Give him a moment.”

Click here for part three.

Tagging: @alwaysclassyeagle @abeanontoast @theslytherinwriter