#proud to be an american huh? fuck.

[mootmuse]

the downside of subscribing to a substack telling me about US trans news: i now know about US trans news

[doromoni]

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : Tooth rotting fluff coming ur way~ no angst for this chapter hihi enjoy!

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Song: So this is love - Brandy, Paulo Montalban

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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Y/N. 3mins

story replies

markwebber Oi! my feet blur that!

Y/N. get in the bloody car first old man, we still need to fetch 2 more idiots

markwebber Ok fine, tell osc I’m driving us

Y/N. he said sure. NOW GET DRESSED

markwebber ok ok give me a sec

Y/N thank youuu 🫶

Y/bf Ohhh who’s that? he’s hot! 🥵

Y/N. He almost 50 and he’s MARRIED with KIDS

Y/bf Maybe they need a new stepmom

Y/N. GIRL. NO

Y/bf. I’m joking! I’m waiting for Lewis Hamilton … that man could take me. ☺️

Y/N. Y/bf I swear…

Y/bf Ok i’m serious about that ~ I’ll let Lewis ruin my life

Y/N. and i’m sure he’d be lucky to have you, crazy and all

Y/bf hell yeah I’m a catch 🤗

Y/N. you’d be a bigger catch if you went to Australia with me

Y/bf I have to a shoot for my movie you gremlin. I’m sure they cant film when their leading actress is half across the earth

Y/N. ik ik~ goodluck babe! Ughh im so proud of youuuu 🫶

Y/N. 8mins

story replies

charles_leclerc wth?? You’re all together??

charles_leclerc why wasnt I invited?

charles_leclerc Y/N! answer meeee

maxverstappen this is so weird Y/N 😅

Y/N. 1m

story replies

oscarpiastri I see mom had shown you the albums huh?

Y/N. You looked so cute my luvv 😭 I’m crying

oscarpiastri I do look cute 🤷‍♂️

Y/N. URGH I want to squish ur lil cheeks . I’m having cuteness aggression. I never realized how blond you are 🥺

oscarpiastri yeah, I kinda outgrew it

Y/N. what if we dyed ur hair??

oscarpiastri Baby, I love you but NO

Y/N. I h8 u, go play video games with the other guys~ ur mom’s spilling so many things bout you 😛

oscarpiastri Nooooooooo

charles_leclerc Osc looks cute

Y/N. Ikr??

charles_leclerc Yes… now why am I not invited to go to Australia???

Y/N. 🙊😬

charles_leclerc Y/Nieeee Whyyyyyy???

charles_leclerc Hello?????

Y/N.

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo,logansargeant, and others

Y/N. I wasn’t depressed, I just needed some sun…. or somebody’s son

oscarpiastri Mama said you could keep me 😌

nicolepiastri NO returns, @Y/N sweetie.

Y/N. No returns… I have some concerns 🙂‍↕️. I feel like he loves Sally better than me.

oscarpiastri That was my childhood room dear!!.

Y/N. that doesn’t explain the huge af cut out 😀

nicolepiastri yeh, he begged for that one.

danielricciardo Ok where are my photo creds tho???

Y/N. Oh.

danielricciardo this is intellectual theft Y/N!

Y/N. Ok fine i’m sorry! Thank you for the most amazing, revolutionary, and inspiring photos taken by @danielricciardo

danielricciardo That’s better. Ur very welcome

logansargeant I didn’t come here to be bullied!!

Y/N. who’s bullying you our precious bbq sauce enthusiast

logansargeant I- ok that’s a step up from ranch. I’ll take it.

charles_leclerc I repeat. WHY WAS I NOT INVITED?!

oscarpiastri ur not Aussie

charles_leclerc Ok??? Logan is American and Y/N too

oscarpiastri right.

Y/N. Sorry kinda forgot about u 😬

charles_leclerc unbelievable! i’m so hurt 😭

Y/N. sucks to be u, cry about it on ur yatch

charles_leclerc Maybe I will! and none of you are invited

Notification : Alex added you to “ Charles the drama queen”

Notification : Alex added Oscar to “Charles the drama queen”

Extra A/N: Singer!Oscar ran in my mind all week… so fuck it Singer!Oscar.

Also! may I offer my playlist for the one and only~ Oscar Jack Piastri 😗

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

[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.

[skylarsblue]

✦Even. More. Incorrect C.o.D Quotes.✦

Y/N, pinning Soap’s arms with their thighs in sparring: Haha! Eat shit, Scotsman! Soap, struggling: FUCKIN’ ‘ELL, The hell is in your thighs?! Y/N: Pure spite and protein, bitch! --

Someone: Hey Johnny. Y/N: Oh, no, only Ghost can- Soap: Oi! Only Y/N & Ghost can pull that off, it’s Soap to you. Y/N: Yeah he- wait me too? *gaaassp* Ohhh is this what favoritism feels like?! Soap: Pfft, maybe! Y/N: I enjoy it a lot! <3

-- American!Y/N: Fuckin’ git, he’s off his rocker, that one. The entire team: … American!Y/N: *dramatically smacks their hand over their mouth* Gaz: *laughing* Was that genuine?! Y/N: AH, I’ve been conditioned! I’ve been colonized! Soap: COLONI-*WHEEZE*

-- Fem Fatal!Y/N: What th- what is this, a spy movie? You want me to infiltrate by being some eye candy?! Laswell: It’s the best option we have. Ghost: I disagree with this. Soap: Me too! This feels real nasty, I think. Fem Fatal!Y/N: *sigh* Fine, I’ll do it. God gave me these tits for a reason, might as well use’em for somethin’. Gaz: PFF-no no, don’t be funny, this is a bad situation.

-- Graves: No! You can’t, cause if you take it- …you’ll be hurting my feelings :((( Ghost: You know, I was thinking about that. And, the thing is…I really don’t care.

-- (In a ride back to base; just makin’ conversation)

Gaz: Do you find boys attractive? Or girls. That’s one what to check, if you’re not sure. Y/N: *chuckles* You think I’m not sure? Y/N: Everyone’s attractive to be honest, even if it’s just something small. Like, some people have really gorgeous hands. Y/N: I don’t know…I’m a little bit in love with everyone I meet. But I think that’s normal. Gaz: …hm, suppose that’s a fair answer…

-- Soap, laughing: You watch it or might just start fallin’ for ya, L.T! Ghost: …would you like to? Soap: Eh-…huh? Simon: Would you like to? Fall in love with me, I mean… Soap: ….well I-…well, yeah. I wouldn’t mind…if you’d let me. Simon: …I’d let you. Soap: Well then, guess that’s it then. Woo me, Si. Simon: I’ll do my best.

-- Someone: I don't need advice from a team of virgin losers. Y/N: VIRGIN LOSERS?! *grabs Price’s shoulder and motions to him aggressively* You gonna tell me you think this man doesn’t fuck for a living?! HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?! Gaz & Soap: *for the millionth time trying not to laugh* Price: *he’s not encouraging it but he does look kinda smug*

-- Gaz, on TikTok: Everyone’s always like “Kyle how’d you bag a baddie, how’d you bag that baddie bruh-“ I didn’t bag shit. Y/N picked me up from my neck, threw me over their shoulder and I’ve been on it ever since. (Zooms out to show that he is in fact, on their shoulder) Gaz: And I ain’t got no plans on getting off anytime soon-

(This also works with Soap & Ghost)

-- Y/N: Why’s it always you got mommy issues or you got daddy issues? Me personally? Both my parents got me messed up, the side I pick? Is mine. I ain’t Hannah Montana- Y/N: 🎶but I got the best of both worlds!~🎵 Ghost: *he’s laughing on the inside, I swear*

-- Ghost, on the verge of dissociating: Why be sad…when you can just be ✨g o n e✨ Soap: Si, no-

-- Graves: Punch me. In the face. Didn’t you hear me? Y/N: I always hear “punch me in the face” when you speak, but it’s usually subtext. Graves: *huff* Well I- *gets punched so hard he falls over* Y/N: ….that felt good. Ghost: I’m so proud- Price: Stop encouraging them.

-- Soap, bursting into the briefing room: Y/N got into a fight! (Insert running scene) Price: Soldier, what hap- Ghost, sliding up in front of them: Did you win? Y/N: Of course I won. Ghost: Nice. Price: STOP ENCOURAGING VIOLENCE-

-- Y/N, in a vent above a room: Soap, it’s me, the devil! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: *trying so hard not to laugh* Y/N: I’m here to convince you to do SIN. Come with me. Steal candy from babies and from small businesses! Soap: *WHEEZE*

-- Y/N, passing by: *does that super flirty “up & down” look* Hey König…~ König: Hallo, guten morgen. Y/N: *smiles and keeps going* König, as soon as they’re gone: *deep breath* Ohmeingottohmeingott *tiny scream*

-- Ghost after being asked about his feelings on Soap: *heavy breathing* ……..nextquestion-

-- Gaz, a menace on TikTok: Batches be on the lookout for Captain Save-A-Hoe, cause he savin’ hoes. Price, minding his business: ? Y/N, dramatically “swooning” in the background: I WANNA BE SAAAAAVED *falls* Price, unaware he’s having a thirst trap made for him: ?????

-- (I think bullying Graves is funny)

Graves: Let me tell you how this is gonna work- Y/N: You ain’t gonna tell me shit. Graves: Listen!- Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: Listen to me!- Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: Shut up, listen to me! Y/N: Suck my dick, you fuck man. Graves: Listen!! Y/N: Suck my dick. Graves: You will be here and listen to my ord- Y/N: You’ll be here sucking my dick. Graves: Listen to me, now! Y/N: Go fuck yourself.

-- Y/N: I would rather lead my team into a pit of fire, than have them wield guns for your ignorant usurper cunt of a general. Price: *mans is so proud it’s showing in his chops*

-- Simon: Your eyes are like sapphires…jeez…ahem, that’s pretty corny though, huh? Soap, swooning: No, not at all. Anyone would like it…aha… Simon: …uh…is this- Soap: Working? Oh yeah, thoroughly wooed, sir. Simon: Good, good.

-- Price: Please tell me you didn’t drag the boys into this. Y/N: I didn’t drag Soap & Gaz into this! *insert banging on door* Price: Who is that? Y/N: I think you know.

-- Soap: I wouldn’t wish that ‘pon my worst enemy. Unless, of course, we’re talkin’ ‘bout my enemy Philip Graves. Soap: Fuck you, Phillip(/neg), you know what you did.

-- Gaz: So you have feelings for this person. Just rip the bandaid off. Y/N, with daddy issues: It’s Price. Gaz: *inhales through his teeth* Put the bandaid back on.

-- Y/N: …Ghost? You’re into Ghost? Soap: Mhm…thoughts? Y/N: And prayers, Johnny. And prayers.

-- Gaz: Are you straight? Y/N: *chokes on drink* Don’t ever fucking insult me like that ever again.

-- (Some type of escort mission or somethin’)

Price: This woman wouldn’t know how to fix a broken fingernail. Fem!Y/N: Honestly, you lot have to be the most boorish, crude, pig-headed men I’ve ever met. Price: Hey, I’ve seen the high-bred boys you’ve hung out with, princess. I’m the only man you’ve ever met.

(Insert overly intense sexual tension here)

-- König: How does that even make any- *knife sound* König: *looks down at the knife in his thigh* Did you just- *takes knife out* Did you just stab me? What is your problem?!

-- (I’m only using Alejandro cause the dude in the audio had a slight Spanish accent, mans is definitely a feminist)

Alejandro: It’s not natural for girls to fight. Fem!Y/N: Now it’s not natural for a man to be as stupid as he is tall, but mm. Here you stand! Alejandro, in love: …

[middlingmay]

Thanks to @theseshipsshallsail for the idea when I've been looking for practice writing sex scenes:

"Fully clothed stalag frottage, both of them trying to keep quiet ? 😉"

I went in a different, slightly darker direction with this one. Being set in a Stalag and all and everything it entails. The Stalag is its own CW by this point...

I hope it doesn't disappoint, and constructive criticism very welcome!

Their fight had been days ago, and John still felt the last tender vestiges of bruising around his nose. Mostly when he was bending down, jumping around, or doing anything that got his blood pumping. He liked it. It reminded him he was still alive.

He felt it throbbing with every kick of his rabbiting heart, now.

They were in the library, just before curfew. They were cutting it fine; the goons didn’t always wait until their Reich-sanctioned bedtime to hustle them back to their huts.

But like hell was he going to stop this: his heart racing like it wanted to give out; the pain pulsing in his face; and Gale Cleven gripping his hips like they were going to be torn apart, taken away from each other, if he didn’t.

Gale had his face buried in the meat of John’s neck. The panting wetness from his mouth soaked into John’s collar and he had the wild, revolting, intoxicating idea that if he sucked on it later, would he still taste Gale? Drink in the bits of him he left behind?

John almost had the presence of mind to be proud of himself. Low, piggish grunts were all he dared let out of him, his teeth bared against Gale’s ear as he used his own face to shove Gale deeper into the crook of his neck.

Because they couldn’t make a noise. They couldn’t be found; they’d be killed.

But those darker tendrils that were picking Bucky’s brain apart, grey, gelatinous inch by inch, had him thinking about a bullet in his head just as Gale made him come. He didn’t always think he was making it out of here, but if he could choose a way to go…

An errant whimper folded into the wool collar of his coat brought him back. And he told that tendril to go fuck itself. He could never do that to Buck. He could never risk Buck, never leave Buck. If he was going to die here, it was going to be getting Buck out.

John, who’d happily been letting Gale use him as he pleased, grabbed handfuls of Buck’s pointed sharp-winged shoulder blades and pulled him in tight as he rolled his hips up and up in a slow, hard drag. Gale shuddered and abandoned his grip on Bucky’s hips to wrap them both in his hair.

“Yeah?” He barely whispered in a puff of air in Gale’s ear.

“Uh huh.”

The jolts and sparks along his scalp where Gale pulled his hair brought him the clarity he needed to picture it: Gale running out the front door of this damned camp as John stole a guard’s weapon and gunned as many of them down as he could before they got him.

He grabbed the meat of Gale’s ass and squeezed and Gale bit his jaw to muffle himself.

He imagined a riot breaking out and tackling a guard to the ground who’d been aiming at Buck. John would beat him bloody there on the ground whilst the boys huckled Buck to freedom.

His thrusts matched the beat of his heart and the pulsing in the bruising around his nose. Gale’s arms hung limply over John’s shoulders, now as he gave in and let John lead. For once. For now.

He could see them on a march as the Allies moved in. They’d make a break for it soon as the goons backs were turned. Only, they’d get caught, and John would sacrifice himself so that Bucky could get away.

“John.” It was pathetic and needy and music to his ears.

He choked his pleasure into Gale’s mouth as they kissed all teeth and breath and swapping sounds they couldn’t let past the cavern of each other. In his head, John saw Gale safe on American soil, in civilian clothes, all golden skin and chubby cheeks again. Smiling. Like a goddamn enigmatic movie star. And he felt the hot bursts of warmth jerk from his cock as Gale stiffened against him and milked himself dry against the press of too thin, too baggy clothes and skin going paper thin from malnutrition and winter.

Gale let himself lean on John when it was over, even kissed his chin and thumbed the eaves of John’s bruise. John caught the pad of his thumb with a closed-lipped kiss and a crinkly smile. As close to who he used to be as he could get right now.

“We’re gonna get out of here,” Gale vowed low an in the dark to John. “I need you to keep believing that.”

John rubbed Gale’s back, head full of the visions that had made him come. “Yeah. We’ll get out of here.”

Or die trying.

[leclerc-s]

big reputations - part nine

series masterlist // previous // next

alex albon I AM ERAS TOUR READY FUCKERS!!!

mark webber are you sure it's wise to take all of them with you?

mastermind oh i'm sure i'll regret this in about 20 minutes when they all start pushing each other to be at the front.

jenson button good luck to you then. can't wait to meet her in vegas, once again, sorry i couldn't make it mastermind it's okay, she understands.

george russell I'M SO FUCKING EXCITED

kevin magnussen i don't know how you managed to convince all 20 of us to show up together.

mastermind i'm letting you bring your wife and child kevin, that's how i convinced you. as for the rest of them, well i promised them an extra ticket for whoever they wanted to invite

oscar piastri is christian coming?

sebastian vettel YOU INVITED CHRISTIAN?? mastermind obviously? and mick too!

charles leclerc please tell him to stop calling

mastermind maybe you should listen to what he has to say? charles leclerc can’t according to sabrina i’m a masochist

carlos sainz you guys are really pushing that family narrative aren’t you?

oscar piastri you wish that was you huh? oscar piastri you’re sooo jealous - sabrina lando norris ARE THE SIX OF YOU ALWAYS TOGETHER? oscar piastri duh - sabrina

max verstappen you have got to stop hanging out with sabrina.

oscar piastri wow. you wanted us to bond and get along and now that we are you don't like? i can't understand you verstappen oscar piastri yeah what the fuck verstappen? - sabrina

lando norris wow, i've been replaced as oscar’s bff

logan sargeant piss off you crumpet that’s me and you fucking know it lando norris whatever george washington alex albon oh great. now all i’m going to hear for the next week the hamilton soundtrack. are you proud of yourself norizz? lando norris why does me calling him george washington have logan sargeant USA MOTHER FUCKERS!! FUCK THE BRITISH!! alex albon that's fucking why you muppet. every time you make a fucking america joke he listens to the hamilton soundtrack

mark webber i can't believe i let oscar drag me into this

oscar piastri oh be quiet, i know you're thrilled to be here.

oscarpiastri, kellypiquet, logansargeant, danielricciardo, and charles_leclerc posted new stories

she's okay at performing i guess she's an angel, truly. oh my god!! gorgeous checo said to caption this, vamos a reputar!

lando norris CHAT IS THIS REAL??

yuki tsunoda WHAT THE FUCK????

max verstappen I FUCKING KNEW MY PLAN WOULD WORK!! charles leclerc I CAME UP WITH THE LYRICS VERSTAPPEN!!

max verstappen I FUCKING KNEW BEFORE ALL OF YOU

kevin magnussen i no longer have a voice and my hearing is gone

jenson button well now i'm so upset i wasn't there!

logan sargeant daniel ricciardo, you fucking gaslighter. you will pay for your crimes against the court

valtteri bottas congrats daniel, never doubted you for a second.

alex albon that's a fucking lie. we all fucking know it. none of us had faith in him

zhou guanyu thank you for invite daniel. i had fun.

daniel ricciardo of course zhou! glad you could make it!

yuki tsunoda HOW DARE YOU KEEP THIS FROM US RICCIARDO!!

oscar piastri added two people

sebastian vettel we should've known something was up when you insisted mark and i fly out to argentina

yuki tsunoda I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION RICCIARDO

yuki tsunoda I'M YOUR TEAMMATE RICCIARDO!! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?? ME?? OF ALL PEOPLE!!

lewis hamilton well that was fun

daphne jones huh, you were right, they were going to freak out.

sabrina carpenter i've never heard grown men shout so loud and i've been to a football game.

lando norris american or british? sabrina carpenter who cares?? it's still grown men chasing a ball??

lance stroll i have to know, what is max's problem with sabrina? is it real??

max verstappen she's annoying sabrina carpenter he's a little bitch charles leclerc i swear they like each other normally. max verstappen no, we don't sabrina carpenter no, we don't

yuki tsunoda I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION!!

daniel ricciardo not even my own mother is this upset yuki

yuki tsunoda YOU LIED TO US FOR MONTHS!! LIAR!

nico hülkenberg do we get to embarrass him in front of his girlfriend now??

daniel ricciardo NO! STOP! daphne jones oh please do!

fernando alonso i caught him screaming 22 back in 2014. i seem to recall jules laughing his head off as daniel screamed along to the words.

sebastian vettel i was his teammate for a season and he was always playing one of her songs. max verstappen i heard "fuck kanye" one too many times in 2017. mark webber he's been in love with you for far too long jenson button we didn't think he had it in him to convince you to date him.

lewis hamilton he sang the story of us after the hungarian grand prix to me and rosberg.

sabrina carpenter you guys said it was okay to say nico in front of him?? george russell only when referring to nico hülkenberg never rosberg

daphne jones well... this is an odd bunch

alex albon MS. JONES, I SWEAR WE'RE NORMAL!! logan sargeant see, even i don't believe that alex albon shut up logan

daphne jones i've heard enough stories to know none of you are slightly normal.

esteban ocon added one person

mick schumacher i saw this coming! it's not like they were subtle about it.

yuki tsunoda BE QUIET SCHUMACHER! LET ME WALLOW IN ANGER!

mick schumacher okay.

taglist: @glow-ish @agustdpeach @msolbesg @spilled-coffee-cup @1nt3rnetgf @six-call @smol-scream @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @tygecjjd @cataf1 @nothaqks @caipng @nataliambc @formulaal @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @hobiismyhopeu @melissayalene @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @nichmeddar @anniemae299 @jensonsonlybutton @ragioniera @anytimeanywherebitch-blog @trouble-sistar

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! can't believe i'm almost done with this story. i literally love this one so much. i think i've like 4 or 5 parts left for this one.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet. enjoy!

[zymruk]

Hey you [Shuri x Fem!Reader]

A/N:I've been obssessed with this woman ever since the release of the film. So here I am writing a story for her. Also, Reader's pronouns are she/they.

Warning(s): Fluff

Summary: Shuri's mind has been elsewhere lately. She couldn't stop thinking about Riri's roomate.

When Shuri had fled to the US to save Riri, she didn't expect to see two beds in that room. By what Okoye had told her, this room could only welcome one person. Riri. Still when she entered the room after the aforementionned, she didn't understand how you'd come to have a bed in that room. Wakandans' reseaches were thorough, way more than American Governments could ever wish to be.

"Oh my god, you're the princess!" As the words escaped Riri's mouth, you found on your way out of the toilet, Wakanda's royalty standing in your dorm room. You only had the time to hide back in before she saw you.

"Yes, now you need to come with me. You're in danger." She had whispered.

Riri looked like she had seen a ghost. "Did I piss off Wakanda?".

While Riri and Shuri were talking in the bedroom, in the bathroom you waited for what felt like forever. On top of that you had forgotten your phone. What a crappy day.

Suddently, you heard a ratteling noise, something was wrong with the window. It looked okay, but it was like it was getting pushed open. Aproching it, to make sure it stayed in place (you didn't need problems with the administration) you were more than taken aback when a bald headed woman's face appeared on the other side. You only had the time to yelp before you were pushed on the ground by the very same woman.

At this point you didn't care if the princess was there, this lady had broken into your bathroom! All you wanted was to get to safety.

-

Back in the room, Shuri and Riri's conversation was interupted by what seemed like a scream. Barely persceptible to the ear. Then, both women watched in chock how your rushed out the bathroom followed by what looked to be Okoye.

"Who the hell are you?" Riri and you had retreated to a corner of the room, now completely cautious of the two women.

"You said I had five minutes." Blurted Shuri.

"I gave you six." Said the strange woman. Now, after taking a look at her. Not only was she taller than you'd thought. But she wore the most ridiculous outfit you had seen in a while. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to make fun at a woman more than capable to crush you in two. Even if it was in your head. Not only that, but the princess' eyes were almost poking your face with how much intensity she looked at you. She, however, had to stop looking at you if she wanted to protect both Riri and you.

You didn't really understand what was going on. If they just wanted to talk to Riri, why had they broken into your dorm? Why had that lady quite literally fucked with your lease? And most importantly why were they sneaking to get there?

While in your thoughts, Riri had grabbed your brand new speaker as a way to defend the both of you. "Do not make another step!" The two Wakandans had moved foward, and in another attept at protection Riri had thrown the speaker at them.

"You see how they treat their guests?" Okoye turned to Shuri, with one of the tiniest smiles on her face.

"She brought a fucking spear in our room. Get out. We didn't do anything." You couldn't believe what was happening. Not only did they intrude on you but now they were threatening you with weapons? You weren't even alowed a taser here!

"We just want to bring you to safety, before something happens. However, we cannot disclose the reasons for your departure yet."

"Oh, you thought you could come in here and kidnap me, huh? Well you can't. There's a witness here." She stood there proud of herself. She couldn't come to wherever they wanted to take her if she had a witness, right? That was probably what she was thinking.

"What? No, I mean yes. You need to come with us. You're in great danger." The princess said exasperated.

Both you and Riri looked at each other before bursting out laughing. "That's litterally what a kidnapper would say. "You tried to say in your most serious voice. But failed miserably. In your defence, she said it weird.

Now at a crossfire, the princess and her guard shared a look and weirdly enough started smiling. "You know what you're right. We should leave you two alone to deal with what's coming. " All the while backing out towards the door.

"Yeah, let's go back to Wakanda and leave them to fight the fishman alone. With their speaker. I mean it's big enough." The baldheaded woman uttered.

"Wait! What do you mean fishman?" Riri asked for the both of you. In what type of caca did she put yall in this time.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Oh I'm sorry did I hear you're taking requests again? 🤭

Cute and fluffy high school Evanstan dating, please.

Imagine teenage Chris being all goofy yet charming and Sebastian's just smitten. He laughs at everything coming out of Chris' mouth. Then he's internally like "Jesus, calm down, you're being real desperate right now" but Chris is not thinking about that at all. Because he's so smitten with Sebastian himself, and he's like giving himself a pat on the shoulder in his mind, feeling real proud for being able to make someone actually laugh this much, and, it's Sebastian of all people too. But anyway, even though they're dating, they're still crushing real hard on each other, and try to hide the majority of it (and fail miserably, whether they realize that or not). But they're just so goddamn cute.

And then bonus point: imagine them marrying each other years later. They're each other's high school sweethearts. Aw maaan (in Anthony Mackie's voice)

Ugh, that doesn't count as anon's writing okay? That was a prompt. (Only If you're interested in it, of course) I would appreciate every single word you would write about this. Thank you!

This SO easily could be made much more fantastical and movie, a-la Not Another Teen Movie with jock Chris and popular boy Sebastian

But, just like you said, I love the thought of two dorky fucking theater kids giggling together and blushing so hard when their hands brush in the hallway or having awful all-tongue kisses before either of them knows how to kiss--it makes both of them cringe, it's so bad, but that's okay, they're bad together.

Too fucking sweet!

I can think of so many different scenarios for ✨them✨

When they're crushing hard on each other but have yet to admit it because Seb is a new student in Chris' school and they have yet to really meet--they've only seen each other's faces in the hall. Then, with butterflies, Sebastian always finds himself turning around sharply, spinning on his heel in a tight circle in the hallways. He would rather be caught dead than have to face his crush and stumble through an awkward conversation or get teased by his crush.

So, Seb practically runs through crowds of students to get away from Chris with that bright, shining smile and habit of making friends with anyone and everyone--jocks, theater kids, whoever. And because of Seb's bashfulness, Chris is convinced that that shy, sweet kid who doesn't talk so much in class because the other students make fun of his softened accent doesn't like him. Chris is a little heartbroken about it, too. He tells his older sister, Carly, and his Ma about it and they brush it off lovingly, surely, he's just shy and he'll come around, you'll have a class with him eventually and learn his name and talk to him. It'll work out.

It does work out.

After a first semester of evasion on Sebastian's part and hopeful intrigue on Chris', they end up in the same theater class together, same period, same teacher despite being in different years. Huh, Sebastian is a year younger than him. Chris didn't suspect that, but, hey, now the baby face makes more sense. Either way, suddenly, not only are they in the same class, now they're also playing silly theater games together, breaking the ice and laughing and bonding over the arts.

Chris learns, captivated by the other boy as he speaks, his voice soft and sweet with a lilt that flows over the syllables in a way that Chris has never heard before but is immediately obsessed with, that Sebastian is from Romania, lived in Germany for a short time, for an even shorter time was in New York City, and then came with his Mom (and probable, soon-to-be step-father) to Massachusetts. He's here. And, when Chris eggs him on and gets his mouth running, Chris also learns that for a while, Sebastian thought he should find a new name. An American name. He considered the name Chris.

Chris laughs because what are the odds? But he wishes he didn't because in an instant, Sebastian's smile dims and he grows quiet, unsure of his welcome. To apologize, Chris reaches out, setting his hand on his shoulder, and says so, "I'm sorry," he fumbles, "I just thought it was funny because then we'd have the same name. How funny would that be, dude? Hi, what's you're name? Chris. Oh, well, me too. Nice to meet you, Chris, I'm Chris." Chris finds his heart beating a little too fast, rambunctious as he does a voice for himself and for Sebastian, trying to cheer him up.

It works.

Sebastian laughs and, oh my god, Chris' whole world frickin' lights up. He's pretty sure he's in love. He's only ever felt so light and entranced the first time he saw a movie with Sandra Bullock or, god, Elisabeth Shue.

Keep it together, my guy, Chris shouts at himself in his head, his mind's eye suddenly awash with the incredibly uncool posters he has on his bedroom walls. A big, like, huge poster of Sandy and a smaller one of Elisabeth push a few run-of-the-mill posters of surfers and snowboarders that were too boyish for Carly to want out of her teen magazines. He needs to do something about those. He needs to be cooler. He needs Sebastian to like him. Ugh! not to mention the stuffed animals he still has. Some of them even sit on the side of his bed, their backs against the wall. He doesn't sleep with a teddy bear (technically), but they do sit there when he sleeps and sometimes he rolls over on top of them and crushes them in his sleep which makes him feel bad later even though he knows they can't feel it, they're not sentient, and--

Tighten up, c'mon, Chris urges himself, talking to himself in his head once more. He can't be spiraling out with this guy in front of him! He's trying to make conversation. He's trying to be cool.

Or... nevermind because their teacher interrupts any other chance of conversation with the next exercise.

After that first quick conversation, the boys are paired together more. Each time, they learn more about each other and, unbeknownst to the other, they hold tightly onto the information, willing themselves not to forget it so the next time they talk they don't stumble quite so hard.

Once, Chris is out with his Ma and siblings grocery shopping and he's interrupted in a not-so-serious argument with Scott about something that he can't even be bothered to remember when he hears--

"Uh, hi?"

Chris spins around and finds his face breaking into a surely dorky grin because Sebastian, it's Sebastian calling his name, unsure of himself, clearly, but confident enough to approach him and say hello and Chris might almost clobber him going in for a hug when Sebastian reaches for a handshake.

"Dude!" Chris says, pulling back to admire see his smile. He's wearing basketball shorts and a NASA sweatshirt, both bigger than he is, hanging off of him like hand-me-downs but Sebastian doesn't have any siblings so Chris wonders if they're his or his soon-to-be step-father's. Maybe. Maybe his mom still buys his clothes and insists that he can grow into them.

It's only when they're staring at each other, unsure of what to say, that Chris notices Sebastian's hair is wet and curling messily like he took a shower before spontaneously appearing in this grocery store on a Wednesday evening.

Sebastian is the one to break their silence, he also is the first one to get out of Chris' Evans'-typical-octopus-hold--what can he say, he's a hugger like his Ma--stepping back and going, "y'know, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing so many bananas."

Chris is red.

Chris is thinking about bananas in a very, very inappropriate way. What could he possibly be talking about?

Sebastian, he notices, is turning red, too, but probably for very different reasons. Maybe. But he is definitely doing that thing he does when he's unsure of his place and his mouth is suddenly running away from him, talking about how in Romania and even to some extent in Vienna, there were never any bananas and little to no fresh fruit of any kind because of... of, y'know, he makes sure to look around before whispering communism.

Chris doesn't know much of anything about communism, just what they talked about in history with the Cold War so he just nods and tells Sebastian that he better buy a whole bunch then. Miracle of miracle, that makes Sebastian laugh. He confesses, turning his head and putting a hand over the side of his mouth so it's just the two of them--just Sebastian's warm breath on Chris' face, he's actually kind of sick of bananas now because of how many he ate when he first arrived in the U.S. Chris isn't sure if he's supposed to laugh or not, it doesn't seem super funny, it's a little more sad, but he laughs because Sebastian is telling him so theatrically that it must be a joke to him.

Sebastian gives him a secret smile, his hand still up to his mouth, and then scurries away to a disembodied voice just a few isles over, someone calling his name, heavily accented and musical, See-bass-tea-an. Chris lets it echo in his head and then tries it on his tongue, pronouncing the other's name the way it was intended, quiet, just to himself. See-bass-tea-an. That must be his Mom, calling for him, wondering where he wandered off to. And... right.

Yeah.

Chris should go back to his family, too, despite the stars circling his head like a cartoon character that's been hit with a mallet and is now wandering around in circles. Maybe it isn't love because Chris doesn't feel like this when he sees his favorite actresses on screen, this is... different. More intense. Definitely different. Maybe love. He stumbles back to Scott to half-heartedly, playfully shove him as the argument starts again.

They keep bumping into each other, talking in class but also in the hallways and at lunch. Sebastian starts sitting with Chris and his friends and it's great, the school year starts to fly by, until...

Everyone has been cast for the theatre department's third production of the year. Auditions are over, lines are being memorized, and rehearsals are underway. Chris was lucky enough to get the lead boy role and, on top of that luck, Sebastian was cast, too! So, now, they get to spend even more time together and it's great. Again, until...

The lead girl is out sick.

Nothing serious, just an unseasonal bout of the flu. It's nearly spring and it doesn't make sense but Chris would rather she stay home and rest rather than run herself into the ground before opening night is even here. Plus, this way, they don't have to practice kissing in rehearsals (which will never not be nerve-wracking) and Chris doesn't have to get sick himself, swapping spit. The only bad thing is that it means Chris is running lines by himself, making stupid, big gestures alone on stage (the teacher is running emergency runner-up auditions, just in case the lead girl misses more practice), pretending to grab a non-existent girl's waist and dip her to kiss her.

*Non-existent* and a *girl's waist* until someone shoves Sebastian out of the dark backstage where he had been waiting for his next cue as they do the run-through.

There he is, stumbling out into the light on colt-ish legs and suddenly Chris is bold enough, heart racing in his chest--encouraged by the voices of his Ma and sister and friends--to grab Sebastian and do the scene with him. Sebastian doesn't know his lines, and he's giggling because of it, but it doesn't matter. He's watched Chris do it enough to know when to react and how to move, swaying with him, gasping when he needs to. And Chris, just, does it.

Chris kisses Sebastian.

In the middle of the stage, standing in a blinding, sweltering spotlight, just as himself and not as his character, Chris kisses Sebastian's soft lips and, holy fuck, Sebastian is kissing him back.

Chris doesn't know what to do. He didn't think this far. He... he dips Sebastian like he was supposed to dip the girl but he doesn't kiss him as he dips him, feeling Sebastian scramble to hold onto him, afraid of falling. Instead, Chris whispers, their lips still brushing, "there's a spring dance in a few weeks, would you come with me?"

Sebastian's eyes flutter open and stretch wide, processing his question. Chris has never seen such a pretty, glittering color as what's entrapped in his eyes--they're blue, grey, almost green in the stage lighting. Absolutely mesmerizing.

His fingers dig tighter into his shoulders as Chris lifts them both back up to standing, "r-really?" Sebastian asks, his voice soft. The words are just for them. Not the characters they're playing. "Like, as your date? Not just because we're friends?"

Chris nods, confirming, "as a date."

Sebastian's verifiably soft lips split into a dazzling grin, kittenish and heart-stopping, "okay."

"Okay," Chris echoes, stuck in the magic of the moment. This feels like a movie, standing center stage where the boy gets the g--boy.

The boy gets the boy.

"Gentleman," their teacher claps her hands together once from the auditorium seating, shocking them both, leaving them to slide apart, a scant few inches between them, "that's enough goofing around." She twirls her finger in a circle, her voice gentle but without room for argument, "let's run it from the top."

Before Seb is whisked off the stage by a few of their mutual friends laughing and mostly quietly hollering, oooohing like middle schoolers rather than the high schoolers they are, he shoots Chris another one of those secret smiles and, god, Chris has forgotten every single one of his lines.

Do NOT get me started on the sheer amount of teasing that would happen if they did get married eventually, or just were long, long-term boyfriends and then were in Marvel and met Mackie. The jokes. Too much. I would love that.

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic prompt #6: Laundry

Butchlander, 1k. (Ok, at least I wrote one! phew)

"It's really not that funny."

"Agree to disagree." Butcher can barely get the words out before he cracks up again.

"This is entirely your fault, you know, beginning to end."

"Oh yeah, how do you figure that?"

"If you didn't fucking--" Homelander sighs and presses his lips together in frustration, looking pained to even say it. "... fucking use my cape as a rag and get it dirty in the first place..."

"Did I insist you keep your top on the whole time? Did you really need your security blanket with you while getting shagged?"

"I had the cape out of the way. It wasn't going to get dirty until you decided to clean up with it."

"You were leaking all over the place! Easier to wash your cape than all of the bedding." Butcher tries to keep a straight face, but a smile is hard to suppress when he can see the supe get more irate with each word, shaking his head.

"Don't even--! Your entire bed smells like cigarettes most days of the week! Maybe you should have just washed your sheets instead of throwing my cape into your godforsaken basement washing machine!"

"I'm sorry, love. I'm sure Vought will provide ya with a new one."

"It's not about that." Homelander rolls his eyes. "It's not something you can just throw in the trash."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not allowed to throw an American flag in the trash, idiot. Even if it's been desecrated by some British barbarian."

"Desecrated, huh? Pretty sure you're not supposed to wear an American flag either."

"I'm not some nobody. I honor it by wearing it."

"Then stop bitching and keep wearing it! Maybe you'll start a new trend."

Homelander looks like he's contemplating lasering Butcher in half, but his eyes don't go red.

"It might look better like this, you know. Make you look taller."

"You didn't just shrink it."

"Didn't see a tag that said 'cold wash only'." Butcher shrugs. "And I was always told that 'these colors don't run'."

"You are so fucking disrespectful and so fucking proud of it too," Homelander says, shaking his head. "Insulting every vet who ever died defending this country and what this flag stands for."

"Oh please, there's only one person I'm disrespecting." Butcher checks something on his phone. "Well, you're right. You're not supposed to throw the flag in with rubbish. You're supposed to burn it. Funny that, always thought that was more of a 'Death to America' kind of spectacle."

"Fine by me," Homelander says and before Butcher can protest sets the shrunken, red-and-pink striped cape he's holding at arm's length on fire, right in the middle of the living room. Charred, black pieces of it float down to the wooden floor.

"Oi! You tryin'a burn my flat down just for ruining one of your stupid capes?!"

Homelander's eyes fade back to their cool unnerving blue. "William. I can burn your dingy little apartment down in much more efficient ways if you give me cause."

"Cause?" Butcher asks as he sweeps up the ash into a dustpan. "Like what? Tryin' to kill ya?"

"Like not giving me an I'm-sorry blowjob right fucking now," Homelander says, seating himself on the couch, leaning back and spreading his thighs.

Butcher looks him over, smirks at the supe's brazen eagerness despite getting so worked up about a piece of his uniform getting ruined. "Only if you actually undress this time."

Homelander hesitates, evidently much more comfortable taking off his pants than anything above the waist, but relents. Butcher can't help but snigger when he sees the supe fold his stiff padded suit up carefully and drape it over the back of one of the chairs near the kitchen, making sure it's out of easy reach of where he reseats himself.

Butcher knows when to humor the cunt, and slides down to his knees between Homelander's legs. But he can't help himself, hooks his hands on the insides of Homeland's knees, and pulls them over his shoulders, tilting the pelvis in front of him. Homelander doesn't fight it and instantly, magically looks thrown off his game-- that annoying look of sitting on a throne awaiting service is nowhere to be seen anymore.

"You sure you don't want me to run the rest of it through the wash?"

"Shut up and get on with it already," Homelander hisses, not trying to hide his irritation in the slightest, but still throwing a nervous look over to where his clothes are, out of harm's way, at least for now.

"You don't look half bad with your top off, you know," Butcher says, working Homelander's erection with one hand while sneaking his hand up and tweaking one of the newly uncovered nipples. "And I don’t think you ever really fooled anyone with those pushup padded tits."

Homelander doesn't even deign to respond, turns away with a huff. His face is red... is this shameless son of a bitch blushing because he's actually embarrassed? By this of all things? There's no way Butcher won't take advantage of it.

"You scared to be seen shirtless? Scared to have your nips out? Scared someone might do... this?" Butcher pushes upwards, pulls the supe's knees up right along with him, still hooked over his shoulders, and breathes softly against Homelander's chest and watches his small nipples pull up even tighter. Homelander lets out a delicious, pained sound when Butcher runs his tongue against one of them, still panting as he wraps his arms protectively around his chest.

"My cock's down there," he mumbles, motioning down with his gaze, trying so hard to sound mean.

"Yeah, think I saw it on the way up here."

"William, I've been nothing but patient and never once pulled you or pushed you."

"That's very kind of you."

"Don't make this the first time I have to shove your head down."

"Your cock will get its turn, don't you worry. Soon as I get my fill of being up here, watchin' ya squirm."

Homelander's arms only pull in more tightly, refusing access. Butcher kisses one of his forearms.

"I'm gonna put your whole clownsuit through the wash if you keep acting coy," Butcher threatens the other man, but deep down he wonders why this supe seems so uncomfortable showing his upper body to anyone.

"And I'm gonna laser you in the face," Homelander mutters, but relents and opens his arms.

"Fair trade," Butcher says before running his tongue across the other nipple, enjoying Homelander’s feeble attempt to suppress a moan.

(AO3 link)

A/N: I find these rules amusing and, yes, somewhat crazy:

(d) The flag should never be used as wearing apparel, bedding, or drapery... (j) No part of the flag should ever be used as a costume or athletic uniform [...] The flag represents a living country and is itself considered a living thing. (k) The flag, when it is in such condition that it is no longer a fitting emblem for display, should be destroyed in a dignified way, preferably by burning.

[kn11ves]

texas: you want some REAL mexican food?? come to TEXAS. psh, yeah, we're REAL authetntic here. uh huh . none of those.. NORTH YANKS putting their big city fancy pronouns liberal shit here.this is TEXAS...we have HISTORY...our culture and pride is STRONG! heh...we're COWBOYS , we eat BARBEQUE, we like COUNTRY MUSIC... we're bascially our own country, yeah... tejano culture and pride!!! we're mexican americans, real proud here

also texas: PUT BARBED WIRE IN THE FUCKING RIVER WE'RE NOT LETTING THOSE FUCKING WETBACKS IN OUR FUCKING LAND

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 3

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 2 🍂 Part 4

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Series warning: Bring in the angst, boys!

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: My girl @keanureevesisbae is on FIRE, at 35k! I'm so proud! ❤️ And because she's on a roll, y'all have to suffer today. You're welcome!

Any and all mistakes are grass-fed and organic.

“No, Mattheijssen.” Could you spell it? Of course you could! They were the ones who couldn’t. Don’t say that out loud, you reminded yourself. “No, e-i-j-double s- e-n.” You said that the first time. And the second. “No, you’re right, it’s not an American name.” Fuck. Every. Single. Time. Finally, you hung up the phone after what seemed like an hour (it had been), completely ready to throw the phone through the window - which would have been easy, all these windows were single glazed – when you noticed a text from Sy.

Sy:     How does 7 sound? You:    Perfect!

Actually, 7 never sounded better. But you couldn’t tell him that. Alright, it is now… 5? Since when?! There is no way, text him back that 8 is better, you still have to shower. And then pick your outfit? Wash your hair? Is today wash day? When did you last wash your hair? Oh and makeup. And shave? Do you need to shave? Like, how necessary is shaving? Is… You really just stood there in the kitchen, panicking, wasting time – and then it hit you: you had a working kitchen sink, but not a working shower. You’d been showering at Jules’ place – or the gym, if you ever went – for weeks now…

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…” you muttered under your breath as you paced through the kitchen, squeezing your phone so hard you thought it was going to break.

“Jules! Oh my god!”

“Did your house burn down, Lara?”

“Wha- no?”

“Then stop screaming in my ear?”

“Sorry. Eh… Can you come pick me up, like, right now? Sy’s going to be here at 7 and I don’t have a working shower…” You heard Julie sigh.

“You are calling about that driver’s license on Monday, okay?” You promised her that you absolutely would – it was quite annoying to not have a valid driver’s license yet, you missed the independence. And it was silly to have a car in the driveway that you weren’t allowed to use, that, too. She was at your house in record time – either she’d been halfway there or she ignored the speed limit the entire time. Knowing Jules, it was the latter. On your way back to her house you texted Sy.

You: This is embarrassing… I don’t have a working shower, so you’re gonna have to pick me up at J’s place… Sy: Promise to meet me outside, I can do without the third degree.

You and Julie laughed about that last text. Unfortunately, while Sy would be escaping interrogation, you surely weren’t.

“So, dinner,  huh?” Jules asked with a wicked smile on her face.

“Jules, it’s not like that.” You weren’t planning on it, at least. No matter how hot he was, he wasn’t getting any just yet. Now those were some sturdy principles that you hoped with all your heart you could stick to. You always had. That being said you’d never met a man like Sy.

“Girl, it has to happen at some point?” Oh, God, the way Julie continuously brought up the fact that you’d never slept with anyone could be so extremely infuriating.

“Would you kindly fuck all the way off, Julietta?” You hated saying her full name almost as much as she hated hearing it. “I’m not jumping on the first dick I can.”

“It wouldn’t even be the first. Or second. Or…”

“Thanks.”

“Hey!” Why did he have to drive this massive truck? Why did you have to wear these massive heels? Oh no, he’s getting out, fuck. Sy was next to you in no time, offering you his arm for support.

“Don’t want you twisting another ankle, right?” He winked – or tried to.

“Do that again!” You laughed, more at the thought of finally having something to tease him with than the fact that he looked really silly when he tried to wink.

“That’s a lot of lip from someone who can’t get dressed without spraining an ankle,” he threw back at you. Both of you laughed nervously.

“I’d invite you home for a drink, but I have one room that isn’t a mess right now," you told Sy when you were done with dessert and your final cup of coffee, and you were running out of excuses to sit at that table any longer.

“I’d take you back to my place, but I currently sleep on a friend’s couch.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I was lookin’ into buyin’ a nice li’l fixer-upper a while back. Good amount of land, not too big a house. But I was too late.”

“Oh, shit, Sy, that really sucks,” you replied, not catching on to what he was trying to say.

“Yeah, it did. Place was perfect. But some European author slash college student…”

“Oh…” So you’d swiped his house. Lovely…

“Oh, Sugar, I don’t mind, I’ll find someplace else. Real question is: why’d you buy it? With the amount of work that needs doin’?”

“I don’t know… It passed the vibe check?” And the award for ‘dumbest answer ever’… Except… Sy didn’t look at you as if you’d gone crazy. Instead, the expression on his face kind of told you that he understood. Maybe?

“Right, feels like the kinda place you could really turn into a home, doesn’t it?” You nodded in reply to his question. He did understand.

“Except it’s barely even a house now…”

“Y’know what, Sugar? I’ll help ya out.” “Sy…” “Lara, I’m a small town contractor. You’re gonna be callin’ me sooner or later.” He moved his hand next to yours, not touching you. You remembered what Jules had told you. If he starts being touchy, you’re golden. But he wasn’t being touchy. This was the opposite of being touchy. This looked like being deliberately not touchy…

“But…”

“I’m not offering to do all of it in my spare time, but I can take on the project. And maybe offer up some evenings or Saturdays.”

And then you said the most immortally stupid words ever known to man: “Thanks Sy, you’re a great friend.”

“You’re just friends? Sy you absolute… God I thought even you couldn’t fuck this up, but here we are. Leave it to you to let the whole thing go to…” Julie was pissed, there wasn't much more to say about it.

“Jules, would you step out of the way?”

“No, Patrick,” she said to her boyfriend, “I will not. That stupid game can…”

“Jules, move.” Sy snapped at her. Patrick turned around in his seat, one eyebrow raised, wondering if he was going to have to start a fight with his best friend for the way he talked to his girl.

“Do you want to sleep on that couch tonight?” Julie couldn’t hide the irritation in her voice.

“This is my house!” Patrick said, “you can’t boss him around in my house!”

“If you keep going like this, Sy can’t sleep on the couch because you will be needing it." She shot back at him.

“Listen, Jules, if it’ll getcha to leave,” Sy said reluctantly, “she was the one who said I was a great friend, I decided not to push it. I’m okay with that.” Julie just rolled her eyes in reply to that last bit – the hell they were okay with that. Neither of them could be okay with that.

“Lara, I am done sticking my neck out for you, you know that? This was the last time. I can’t do this again.” There was no way she was going to give Sy an earful about this and not her best friend.

“Jules, please I’m…”

“Tell me you’re sorry and I will murder you, I swear,” Julie hissed. She took a deep breath before continuing: “What on God’s green earth have you got to say for yourself, huh?”

“I… It was too much, too fast. He got too close. He’s different. I like him.” You really tried to forma coherent sentence, but you ended up with word vomit. Oh well, might as well get it all out… “And he offered to help me with the house, it was so nice, but I don’t want to owe him. Not like that. And I thought it would be better if we were just friends. And he didn’t protest…”

“You have four braincells and they are taking a permanent vacation.” Jules was probably right about that.

“What do I do?”

“Nothing. He’ll be remodeling your house. You may be a total fool but you’re not made of stone.” She was probably also right about that. You had to admit to yourself – and let’s be real here, was anyone surprised? – that you hadn’t even thought about that. He’d be at your house.

“He’ll be at your house,” Jules said as if she could read your mind, “hammering, drilling. Nailing.”

“Jules, knock it off!” You laughed, but the truth was that you couldn’t shake the thought of a sweaty Sy handling power tools. Fuck.

[mewmewpercy]

I bet if someone where to criticize Jade (like myself for example, and for good reason too, lore wise) everyone who just loves her without a second thought will jump to have my head. Like, yes you can like her but also please acknowledge some stuff and that others have a different opinion? Thats what it means to be in a fandom?

Seriously it took me a while to warm up to topaz after the quest in belobog, but jade? Well ill be damned, rather take one of boothill's bullets like a proud muddler-fudger!

Oh bestie if you were to see half the disgusting shit her fans have said on tiktok......

I don't fucking like her because lore wise she fucking bought a person and didn't free him just made his beat up shackles some bracelets with a chain

I don't like her at fucking all because she's not even that pretty, she's basically a fucking slave owner and what reason would I as an African American have to like her, and she's got shit animations from what I've seen via leaks. Also she's quantum erudition which like.......hate to tell ya but there's already a glorious unit thats the exact same and will forever be better(my bby Qingque)

But anyways as someone who spends an unhealthy amount of time on tiktok here's some things I see a lot:

Racism towards Arlan

Racism towards Aventurine

Lying about what she did in canon

All Sunday playable wanters getting dragged through hell and back because we have had this man since the start of 2.0 and she was only there for 5 minutes in a flashback but she got drip marketing and now will be released soon

Racism in general towards real life people

Everyone but her being called a flop

Her being called mommy cus she's supposed to step on you in ult(huh this sounds like a familiar thing)

And prolly more disgusting shit but I just woke up. So yea and look as someone who hated every ipc member for ages before warming up to them I know opinions can change. I mean shit anyone can look at my blog now and see I hated Aventurine for a long time but my opinion changed when I learned his backstory. It took longer with Topaz because I felt like she should've known what she was doing was wrong if basically the same damn thing happened to her home but she changed and I eventually thought harder and it's probably corporate conditioning. With Jade I probably will never fucking like her. Like it was one thing for Topaz to try and tax collect a planet but realise she was wrong for that. It was one thing for Aventurine to be a straight up fucking weirdo trying to make us do shit for him by showing us a damn corpse in a dreampool. But Jade doing something that hits a lil too close to home like buying mfs????? Nope I'm gonna hate her till the day I die.

And I hate that it's become such a norm now for fandom to be unsafe from unpopular opinions. It's like you're only allowed to have a different opinion in private or else you get jumped by people who can't move on. Whenever I see a take I don't agree with I take a screenshot and send it to my friend and we talk and laugh and I probably block the person. Easy as. But I'm going to keep posting my opinions positive or negative because I'll be damned if some anons saying I'm wrong are what makes me crumble.

[terrence-silver]

Could you please do Terry telling John about Beloved or introducing them to each other?

Thank you 😊

---

John Kreese wasn't exactly always all for the kind of people Terry tended to lead around on his arm; hook, line and sinker. He let that be known at times, in a paternalistic way someone slightly older lets these things be known --- and Terry was rich enough to where someone needed to be sincere with him once in a while --- someone who wasn't a paid suck up --- for his own good.

Wasn't John's manner to pussyfoot around.

Terry knew that and John knew that he knew.

Sure, call him old fashioned, but he believed in something called real, proper, goddamn love; people meet, go steady, like each for all the right reasons and settle down honestly, as they should. An ideal as universal and American as sliced pie and the pickled fence it went hand in hand with. He fought for that dream. Bled for it. Before Vietnam, John could even see himself coming home to such a life if what happened to Betsy didn't happen. She died. That was it. John didn't run from the hard facts and hard knocks of life, instead, he faced them head on like a man should. Much like Terry had to face that pretentious, fortune hunting high-end paid escorts, crooks after his money and influence and perfumed whores of any persuasion no matter how slick about their trade weren't necessarily the right kind to bring home. Fuck, yes. Have fun and enjoy life with, yes. Blow off some steam with and have orgies with on a private island or whatever Terry got up to these days, sure. But not to bring home. Least of all, expect John to take it all seriously. It wasn't the whoring itself as much as it was the lack of honest intentions. Hell, John tended to feel like something of a mother hen sometimes, teaching a grown man who and what to date when Terry was more than capable of taking care of himself and was slick as the slickest among them himself. He worried that the Cobra would encounter a greater predator in the gardens of life than itself and that struck him as ludicrous at this point when Terry was literally gracing the cover of Forbes. He supposed he worried the way an older brother or a father does. The way a Captain does. He supposed he sometimes still tended to see Twig in Terry, flustered about the concept of second base.

He saw Twig, in shimmers, as he spoke, through the occasional sheen in Terry's eyes.

He hasn't seen Twig in Terry's eyes for years.

-"So, how do you know?"- John amused himself, grimly, mustering a sincere half-grin, questioning Terry as they stood on the balcony of his mansion overlooking the vista. He was listening for nearly months about this special someone to the point that he caught that Terry actually wanted to be questioned more on the subject and for John to show an interest and he took as a cue to do so. Deduced that much. The subject of you was like a mouse Terry dropped at his feet, waiting for his praise.

-"I know."-

Terry giggled, elongating his 'know' into suggestive lengths as was his habit, cheeks puffed under the weight of his wide, crooked smile, his pores practically lighting up with mirth. His twinkling beam taking up the space of his entire face until his eyes and overall features were barely visible and hooded under his brow. Man was quite literally all smiles. Well now. Usually, Terry would go into salacious details, but now, he appeared more like a flustered boy, talking about a school crush.

-"That good, huh?"-

John has to quip, elbowing Terry into the side. The sex must've been out of this world...with this near-mythical being in question. -"You surprise me, Lieutenant."- He adds, entertained. -"Thought there wasn't anything under the sun that can get you whipped that much."- Usually, Terry's desires were extremely physical and in a sense, he couldn't help but be proud of the man Terry grew up to be since the army. Most eligible playboy in California. Who would've thought? -"Thought you tried it all."- He has to continue, now more serious, feeling Terry might conflate lust with love at times, making little to no differences between the two. Think just because someone can do outstanding endeavors in bed, it must mean that someone is innately special. John wasn't a prude --- far from. He had his share of life. He just hated to see a friend making a goddamn fool out of himself over some tail.

-"You know, we talked after it, man. Really talked."- Terry tries, fiery.

John's interest is renewed. Talked?

-"The way you and I talk."-

Terry explains fondly, vehemently, fingers reaching and pointing towards his own torso and then John's for emphasis, and John's taken back to a time of campfire chats deep into the night during long patrols in the bush. Comforting Terry when he was sick during marches and rambling on for hours to keep him awake and from succumbing to his wounds. Sharing dreams and hopes. Talking to pass time. Alleviate fear. Times of trouble, turns out, serve as the best moments a man can have the talk of his life and somehow, forging a brotherhood baptized in blood and John understands then. -"Never thought I'd be able to do that with anyone ever again."- Terry finishes off, Twig loud and clear on his face. John Kreese figures then, nodding, that you're not someone he'd mind meeting.

[tamagohimeexplosionmurder]

Cw: mildly dubious consent (because he’s wearing a disguise but reader is hella into him). Also I guess this is technically monster fucking so if you aren’t into that… 🤷🏽‍♀️

SpinnerxReader, college AU

Ao3 link if anyone wants that

“Why me!?” Shuichi basically whined.

“Because everyone else’s skills will be better utilized in other locations,” Kurogiri explained with his characteristic detached formality.

“In other words you’re useless and we need you out of the way.” Dabi laughed cruelly.

Kurogiri sighed heavily at the interruption, “He is not useless. You are the best fit for this assignment.”

“He means you’re the most expendable.” God that guy was such a jerk.

“No.” The second in command sent Dabi a warning glance, “Your quirk will make sneaking on the campus possible.”

“What? Can’t you just warp me wherever I need to go like we always do?” This was sounding more and more unpleasant.

“No, I, as I said, will be needed elsewhere.”

“Fine, but don’t you think that my quirk also makes me a little conspicuous? Not a lot of lizards walking around the dorm rooms I’m guessing.”

“All For One has provided us with a quirk to temporarily alter your outward appearance. Once disguised, you should have no trouble infiltrating the school during the event”. The pink-haired villain’s skeptical look did not move. Kuroguri tried one more time. “You’re basically the same age as the UA students, it’ll be easiest for you to blend in.”

“So is Dabi! So is Shigiraki!!” Shuichi knew he was grasping at straws but at this point, he was a bit desperate. This job sounded like a literal nightmare. What? Did he have to take a math test that he hadn’t studied for too?

At the mention of his name their leader finally chimed in, “Take your assignment and stop bitching.”

And that was the end of the discussion.

***************

Shuichi shifted uncomfortably, looking this way and that in the mirror taking in his new appearance. He was… “normal”, his red eyes the only thing recognizable on his now perfectly average face. Shuichi examined his pink lips and soft but defined jawline - the only things visible under the maroon bauta-style mask he had been given to pair with a sharp grey suit. He looked…

Toga poked his now smooth cheek. “Is this what Spinner would have looked like if he was human?”

“I am human you bitch!”

“Yeeeeaaaaa, but you know what I mean.”

“I can’t be certain, but I believe so.” Kurogiri looked almost proud.

“Huh,” she lifted his mask to examine the rest of his altered features, “I kinda thought you would be hott.” She let the mask snap back onto his new nose. “Oh well.”

Why did he hang out with these assholes…

Shuichi took one last look in the mirror. He looked stupid. This sucked.

——————————————

Shuichi stood stiffly by a wall, watching the event from the sidelines. People were talking in small groups around the room and there were numerous couples dancing. It reminded him of an American-style prom like he had seen in movies.

He didn’t belong here. It was obvious he wasn’t like these normie jerks smiling and laughing together like idiots. Kurogiri was fucking stupid if he truly thought that he could “blend in” with these future fakes.

“These things are so awkward, huh?” You asked with a poorly feigned nonchalance.

“What?”

“Like forced fun activities. Does anyone actually enjoy these things?” You giggled.

Who were you? You had just appeared next to him and now you were talking. You were right. This was awkward.

You wore a white dress with delicate flame designs embroidered in red and a matching half-mask. You must have a fire quirk. He rolled his eyes at your lack of originality. He didn’t say anything but you inched a little closer and continued your inane chattering. “Have we met before?”

“No.” You looked a little taken aback by his abruptness. He sighed, he was supposed to be gathering information from the students. You were a student. He wasn’t going to get a better opportunity.

“I mean, maybe? I haven’t really met a lot of people yet and I can’t tell who you are either.”

“Oh yea,” you giggled, touching your mask, “I forgot. This is such a weird party. What kind of school has a masquerade ball as a welcoming event? UA has too much money.”

He shrugged. “Not like it was my choice to be here.”

“Oh yeah? Your advisor make you come? Extra credit or something?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m not from around here.” You said confusingly; what did that have to do with anything? “So I don’t know anyone. Like at all…” you continued with a nervous laugh when he didn’t reply, “so I thought, you know, here’s your chance [Y/n], get out there! You can do this!” You offered him your hand with a shaky smile. “I’m [y/n] by the way. Nice to meet you. If, you know, we haven’t already met.”

He eyed you incredulously. A handshake? You must not be Japanese. Still, it was clear you meant the gesture to be polite. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration. It was weird.

He grabbed your hand cautiously. “Um, Iguchi.” Don’t lie any more than is necessary, right?

“Nice to meet you, Iguchi!” You beamed. Your smile was … nice. People didn’t usually smile at him. And he hadn’t realized how much he missed being called by his actual name. He was pretty sure that the rest of the League didn’t even know what it was. Shuichi glanced down at where you were touching him again, your soft hand enveloping his… oh… right. The glamour quirk. That’s why you were treating him like this. He looked “normal”.

He snatched his hand back but you recovered quickly, flashing him that smile again.

“So, what’s your quirk?”

What the fuck? Was this a polite question to ask a stranger? It felt really personal but Shuichi really wasn’t sure. He hadn’t had a lot of polite conversations in his life. Also, most people didn’t bother to ask him since they could just tell by looking at him. “Um, I have a … gecko quirk,” he watched your eyes search for the outward signs of his mutation that you wouldn’t see right now.

“You don’t look particularly reptilian,” you giggled. Pfft if only you knew.

He shrugged noncommittally.

“Not that I have anything against people with mutation quirks of course!” You added quickly, a slight note of panic in your voice.

Yea. Sure. Of course, you don’t. You would totally have come up to him like this if he had his usual face.

You shifted uncomfortably, you could obviously tell you’d offended him, though you probably didn’t understand how. It was kinda fun to watch you squirm but he decided to show you some mercy. “Flame quirk?”

“What?”

He gestured at your dress.

“Oh! No,” you giggled. Why were you always giggling? It was weird. “I just like fire.” You smiled, almost maliciously. Oh. He wasn’t expecting that.

You beamed at him and held your hand up dramatically, giving your wrist a sharp graceful flick, a dagger appearing in your palm. You drew the blade slowly across your tongue and winked at him before you broke out into another fit of giggles. Wow. Ok. He *really* hadn’t been expecting that.

“Oh no. That’s it!” You gasped as you held your sides, “I’m officially drunk. That was so weird. I am so sorry.” Your laughter was almost contagious, Shuichi caught himself smiling at your wheezed apology.

You were… different from anyone he’d ever met.

Or maybe you weren’t, he thought bitterly, maybe this was just what life was like when you weren’t a freak. Maybe pretty girls in pretty dresses with nice smiles and a laugh like music aren’t afraid of or disgusted by you. Maybe they come up to you at parties and flirt with you. Maybe this isn’t a miracle. Maybe it’s just a glamour.

“What the fuck was that? You just carry knives around? Not in the hero course I’m guessing.” He huffed, he had meant it to sound more like a causal joke, but he had pissed himself off and it came out in his voice.

Your face twitched slightly at the sudden venom in his voice but you plastered your smile back on quickly, “Rude!” You stuck your tongue out at him. Pfft childish. “It’s my quirk.” You flicked your wrist again, a delicate blade appearing in your hand. Shuichi looked at it, his impassive face apparently not the reaction you were looking for.

“What are you one of those assholes that think that a person’s quirk is what makes them a hero or a villain? Because my entrance essay was about how that’s bullshit and I will totally go get it and make you read it right now.” You were still smiling stiffly but the way your eyes blazed let him know you were serious.

“That seems to be the majority opinion.” He shrugged, a little uncomfortable for a reason he couldn’t quite name.

“Well, the majority is wrong.”

Both of your moods had soured considerably. You seemed to have just noticed, you took a deep breath and smiled weakly at him. Why were you trying so hard?

“Sorry. I’m a little, uh, sensitive on the topic. It’s hard being judged by your quirk all the time, you know? Well, I guess you wouldn’t, would you?” You gave a little sad awkward half-laugh that pissed him off for some reason.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He practically spat.

He expected you to shrink back from his anger like you had previously but this time you got defensive right away, “You’re just, like, a hot guy; with an, I imagine, very versatile and completely neutral quirk. Not everyone has that luxury!’

“Who the fuck are you?! You don’t know anything about me!”

“I can tell enough about you from the fact that I can fucking see you. Do you have any idea how many people have to hide their quirks just to live?”

“Society demands that freaks hide away.”

You looked at him like he had just punched you in the face. “That’s disgusting!” You were nearly in tears. “What if you had scales or something would you want to have to hide that?!

“People would prefer that I did.”

“Well fuck those people!!”

Shuichi was physically taken aback by the passion of your answer. He scoffed, in an attempt to hide how much you’ve shaken him. “‘Those people’ make the rules,” he continued in a softer voice, but he couldn’t remove the edge completely, “you can cry about it all you want but that’s the world we live in.”

You deflated, all the fight knocked out of you now that you weren’t on the defensive. Shuichi cursed himself, resisting against himself not to reach for you. He agreed with you, why was he fighting you so hard?

“Hero society is … broken,” you pressed on in a quiet but determined voice, “No one should have to hide who they are. There is no such thing as a ‘villain quirk’. Everyone deserves the chance to be happy. Don’t you believe that?” You asked him so earnestly, like whatever he said would determine your whole worldview.

Shuichi nodded mutely. He would have agreed to anything in that moment to get rid of the pain in your eyes. Fuck, what had you done to him? He didn’t even know you. He didn’t care about anyone’s opinion but Stain’s. But… you look like you might cry, and if you did it would be his fault, and if he made you cry he…

Shuichi watched as you suddenly walked away without a word. Yea, that was much more familiar. At least this time it was actually his fault that you left - sliver linings, he laughed bitterly to himself. He was just about to leave to try to map out the campus like he was actually supposed to be doing when you reappeared. As suddenly and silently as the first time, here you were again at his side, this time you held a cup in each hand.

“An apology,” you handed him one of the cups sheepishly, “for getting so… political.” What were you stupid? Why were you apologizing to him? “… and personal. You’re right. I don’t know you and I shouldn’t have just attacked you like that.”

He murmured something about it being fine and accepted the cup. It held a reddish liquid that smelled like rubbing alcohol. Big juice. UA was a college after all. He took a few tentative sips. It tasted like a strawberry fart and burned in his stomach. But you visibly relaxed when he drank it so it wasn’t really that bad.

“I mean, it’s not like you were wrong. You’re just really passionate about… equality? I guess.”

“Exactly! I am!” You beamed, leaning into him and grabbing his arm in your enthusiasm, “That’s why I’m in the business course. I’m going to revolutionize how the public sees quirks, just wait!”

Your touch was so gentle and he could feel your warmth even through his suit jacket. You wer-

wait.

“You said you were in the hero course.”

“No, I didn't. I just said it was wrong of you to assume that I couldn’t be a hero.”

Fuck. If you aren’t in the hero course he shouldn’t even be talking to you. Well… to be fair you were the one that started the conversation. And he may be in the League of Villains but he still had manners. He should at least finish the drink you gave him right?

You continued to talk about quirk rights and hero society. This time a lot more calmly. It was … nice. Really nice. You were so smart and your level of compassion startled him each time he saw a new glimpse of it. Shuichi was sure his first assessment had been correct; you were different.

Every time his cup was empty you would flit off and every time he was surprised when you came back, a new peace offering in your hand. He was on his fourth “apology” when you suddenly turned and grinned at him sheepishly.

“I wasn’t kidding about my entrance essay, just, by the way. If, like, you wanted to read it…. I could show it to you?”

Shuichi shot you an incredulous look. You’d been talking about quirk theory for hours what could you possibly say in this essay that you hadn’t already said? And why were you blushing?

“You know… in my room?”

Oh.

Oh!

Oh my god!

Shuichi was sure that there was NO WAY you meant what those words were implying. But your scarlet cheeks left little room for doubt, and they were only getting redder the longer he took to answer.

“I mean, if you don’t want to that’s ok. We ca-“

“No! I want to!” He interrupted embarrassingly quickly.

You blushed harder but beamed, “ok.”

You grabbed his hand and began leading him out of the crowded ballroom. Everyone there could see that you were leaving together. You didn’t seem to notice the giggles and knowing glances of your schoolmates. It was like you weren’t ashamed to be seen with him.

You slammed his body against your door as soon as you had dragged him into the room. You acted like you wanted him so much. Shuichi tried desperately to find the angle you were playing to explain your behavior but your lips were making him dizzy. God, they were so soft. Kissing was… fuck… really good. He felt like he was melting under your touch.

You giggled and clumsily removed your mask after the third time they scraped uncomfortably against each other. You were beautiful. Your cheeks redden as he stared at you panting slightly through his parted kiss-swollen lips.

“Um… now you?” You giggled nervously and reached tentatively towards his face when he didn’t. He didn’t move and you took that as an okay, lifting his mask and tossing it in the corner with yours. You caressed his face as you studied it, admiring “his” features. Would you look at him like this if you saw what he actually looked like? You smiled wolfishly before drowning him in your kiss again. Shuichi let himself believe that you would.

You clawed at his jacket, releasing an adorable little growl of frustration into his mouth when your uncoordinated hands got tangled in his sleeves. He shrugged it off and began shucking off his buttons. A task you eagerly joined in on the second you were freed.

The glamour had only been applied to his top half as it would last longer if concentrated more. Your eyes danced over the transition down his abdomen from smooth skin to green scales, your fingers tracing lightly along the path of your gaze. Shuichi shivered at your touch. It’s not like he had absolutely no experience, but truth be told he didn’t have much. And he’d never been touched like this. You looked… you looked really fucking horny. You legitimately wanted this. Shuichi let himself believe that just maybe it wasn’t just because you were drunk. You kissed down his chest. His whole body felt like it was melting. “Beautiful.” You hummed to yourself as you admired his green scales.

The glamour had only been applied to his top half!!

He had to stop you.

God your hands were soft.

You were not going to like what you found.

Shit, when did you drop to your knees? He had to stop you.

Fuck, you were kissing along his hip. When had you unbuttoned his pants?

No!

Wait….

Don’t stop.

Your sharp intake of breath was like a knife in his heart. He had let you get too far and now you would finally give him that look of disgust he was so used to.

But your glazed eyes didn’t hold disgust; your blown-out pupils burned into his soul. You…. You meant this… there was no denying you wanted him.

His cocks were… well, his cockS. They were conical, thick and heavy at the bases and narrowing to a flared tip. You tentatively wrapped your hands around him and stroked him experimentally. His entire body shuddered and your eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. You played with him gleefully, gaining confidence in your touch with each breathy moan you managed to draw from him. Switching up your technique, speed, and attention with every stroke, you tried to figure out the best way to please him. He couldn’t cum without a steady rhythm but the way you were keeping him on edge had him seeing stars.

You eyed him hungrily, licking a fat stripe up the underside of his manhood choked by your right hand. He shuddered and bit back the trembling chirps he sometimes made when he was very happy. Shuichi looked down at you, practically drooling for him on your knees and he knew if he wanted any chance of being able to fuck you he had to stop you right now cause he wouldn’t last 20 seconds in your mouth.

He pulled you to your feet, almost losing his resolve when you let out a disappointed little whine. “I wanna see you.” He whined back, pulling at your dress pitifully while he attacked the junction of your neck with his tongue and teeth.

You turned around, breathlessly asking him to unzip your dress. He let his fingers trail over your exposed shoulders. Every part of you was so… erotic. Your every move was seductive. He dragged the zipper down as slowly as he could manage, wanting to savor the unveiling of your bare skin. You let the dress drop when he reached the end of it, bunching at your feet, and revealing that you had worn absolutely nothing under it.

He moaned as he nuzzled at the back of your neck, you smelled so good, your body felt so good against his. He knew he should be embarrassed but he couldn’t bring himself to even try to stop his desperate little humps against you. You tried to turn around to face him but he kept you in place with a strong grip on your hips.

“Someone’s an ass man, huh?” You breathed. He groaned as he rolled his hips against your perfect backside in answer.

He felt another rumbling in his chest, expecting another groan of pleasure, however, the noise he made instead was a loud croak. He froze. He had never made that sound before! What the fuck was that!

“What the fuck was that?” You giggled.

His sharp embarrassed retort died in his throat as you ground yourself back harder on his lengths.

“Do it again.” God, you sounded so needy.

Without thinking he bite down hard on that beautiful neck of yours and shoved himself into you. You howled at the sudden overload of sensation, only one of his cocks having made it inside you on the first thrust, the other sliding against your clit instead.

This was pure ecstasy. Shuichi let his instincts guide him; wrapping his arms around you, trying to get as close to you as possible. You felt so good. So warm and wet and tight around his long-neglected sex. He fucked you hard and slow, grinding his hips into yours, trying to explore every inch of your insides with both of his members, alternating the cock he fucked you with with each stroke.

You whimpered, your legs losing strength the harder he rutted into you, but his strong jaw’s hold on the nape of your neck not allowing you to move. Shuichi felt for you but he no longer possessed the ability to be separated from you. He compromised by sinking to his knees with you, allowing you to fall forward into a more sustainable mating position. He draped his full body over your trembling form; you shook on your hands and knees but you accepted his weight, pushing your ass back into him as hard as you could with your limited mobility.

He used the helplessness of this new position to explore your body further. You really were breathtaking. He kept one hand clamped firmly on your hip, his body desperate to keep you close. He let the other trace along your curves, settling on the swell of your breast. His experimental groping growing bolder with each high-pitched whine he was able to draw out of you with each pinch or roll of your hardened nipple.

“Both?” You hiccuped through needy moans. He pulled your head back with a firm grip in your hair and asked you to repeat yourself. “Fu..ck me wi…th both your cocks, Igu…chi I need you. P-pl…ease.”

Shuichi slowed his movements, switching from fucking into you to deep grinds. His cocks weren’t massive but the fact that there were two of them was kind of… a lot to handle. He wanted to do it but he also didn’t want to hurt you. He tried to explain this to you but you whined and moaned and ground yourself against him until his resolve broke. He bit back down on the back of your neck; this time a sharp fang pressed into your pulse point. The resulting jerk of your body arching your back and throwing your ass hard up into him, the tapers of his flared cock heads sliding past the minimal resistance at your entrance and sheathed him fully in your pussy all at once.

You screamed as you came, the stretch hurtling you over the edge in one swift move. Your already tight cunt spasmed sporadically around him, pulling him right over the edge with you.

When Shuichi could breathe again, he gave you one last look, trying to burn the sight into his memory, so perfect and beautiful beneath him. He sighed and rolled off of your body, collecting his clothes silently.

You looked at him dreamily, reaching your hand out to stroke his leg. “Stay the night.”

God, he would have given anything to say yes to you.

“I can’t.” He gave you an apologetic look at your small sound of disappointment. “I want to. I just… can’t.”

You gave him one last pleading puppy-dog pout before smiling gently and walking him to your door.

“Text me,” you said with a happy wink, as you handed him back his phone. When had you taken that?! He sighed softly and tried not to look as desperate as he felt. He knew he would never see you again. At least not in a way that either of you wanted. He could already picture the look of betrayal you’d give him when the League attacked the school in a few weeks. For the first time in his life, Shuichi truly felt like a villain.

“I’ll see you again soon?” You whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek, before giving him a hopeful shy smile.

“Yea, you will.” At least he wasn’t a liar.

[thatiranianphantom]

Okay, my thoughts on the new description.

(some under a cut because, you know, it's me and I share many opinions that perhaps I shouldn't)

In the style of @raymondebidochonlifechoices's hilarious recap of RAS' interview, though perhaps a bit less hilarious.

The seventh season of Riverdale goes where no season of Riverdale has dared to go before—the 1950s!

Wonder why we've never been there before. Not because it's fucking stupid, but because it took till now for Ted Sullivan to have this absolute brainchild that will revolutionize the show.

Picking up where last season ended, Jughead Jones (Sprouse) finds himself trapped in the 1950s. He has no idea how he got there, nor how to get back to the present. 

The writers: We watch our own show, what are you talking about? We remembered that plot point, didn't we! Aren't you proud of us? Huh? Aren't you?

His friends are no help, as they are living seemingly authentic lives, similar to their classic Archie Comics counterparts, unaware that they’ve ever been anywhere but the 1950s. 

Oh rats, because typically, they are an absolute bastion of support and assistance.

Archie Andrews (Apa) is the classic all-American teen, coming of age, getting into trouble, and learning life-lessons

S1-25 year old teen - absolutely insufferable Archie is back, and this time, he's even more unaware! Hopefully with less grooming, especially from a show that is convinced it's making a profound social statement.

Betty Cooper (Reinhart) is the girl next door, starting to question everything about her perfect life—including her controlling mother Alice (Madchen Amick)

Somehow, some way, we are still circling the same plot about abusive parents. And you know how this refrain goes, people. Alice is horrendously abusive, she cries, we are supposed to forgive her. Looks like something ripped straight out of s1 but peep the absolutely no implication of anything BA related.

Veronica Lodge (Mendes) is a Hollywood starlet who moved to Riverdale under mysterious circumstances;

California and not New York???!!!! So exotic! Very wow! What an incredible stroke of genius, Roberto! They have not been shy about pumping the Varchie up, have they? It also usually only exists in addition to another ship....

Cheryl Blossom (Madelaine Petsch) is the Queen Bee with a withering wit and a secret longing

I mean, Cheryl's plot has functionally never changed, so I don't know who's shocked at this, except for maybe the writers thinking it's revolutionary to recycle Cheryl's S2 plot instead of her S1 plot. Note that Mads and Vanessa's Instagrams are and have always been a pantheon of spoilers and it does look like they're doing a lot of filming together.

Toni Topaz (Vanessa Morgan) is an activist fighting for the Black students of recently integrated Riverdale High

.....I can see my brain. I can literally see my brain, my eyes are rolling so hard. How do we make an already insufferable (my opinion, stressing that here) character even more insufferable and pretend we are making a profound social statment, something we are absolutely incapable of making? Toni is an activist for integration!

(real talk, I think we'll see very little of this plot, as we'll see very little plot for the secondary characters)

Kevin Keller (Casey Cott) is a “square” crooner wrestling with his sexual identity

Kill me now, my dear followers. And hey, spec here, I feel like Kevin may be dating Betty?

Reggie Mantle (Charles Melton) is a basketball star from farm country

The one thing I hope is true. God, I hope my dear himbo Reggie is back.

 Fangs Fogarty (Drew Ray Tanner) is a greaser who’s destined to be an Elvis-type star

Seriously, what ammunition does Drew have on the writers that he keeps getting brought back? My thought is they're going back to Kangs though, if we're going the OG way.

It isn’t until Jughead is visited by Tabitha Tate (Erinn Westbrook)—Riverdale’s Guardian Angel—that he learns the cosmic truth about their predicament.

Just....one facepalm is not enough. Five hundred facepalms are not enough. Tabitha, a character that is to put it generously not well loved and has been around for two seasons, is the Guardian Angel???

We know that they resolve Jughead remembering by the end of the premiere, per RAS, so I honestly wonder if Tabitha's role in S7 is very light. If Jughead forgets, her role is essentially moot and we have seen very little of her in BTS.

Anyway, my dear fellow sufferers, let's get through this together, one last time before we are finally set free.

[lazuliquetzal]

4, 5, and 6! :) <--- asks good questions because I love you

I ASK YOU NICE QUESTIONS ALL THE TIME

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

“Besides,” his dad continues, “even with Misaki and Mari, we’ll need a grandson from you to carry on the Narumiya name, huh?” "Don't worry about that,” Mei tells him, more even than he feels. “There will be lots of people naming their children after me once I'm the greatest pitcher in Japan.”

Okay, so this is from Disappearance, which is a fic about aromantic anxiety, and honestly--making Mei aroace just blew his character WIDE open for me. He's usually characterized as this very flamboyant, almost happy-go-lucky asshole? But honestly when I was reading Daiya no Ace Act 1, idk, I just kind of felt this simmering, very controlled anger in him. Everything we know about him is through the eyes of a rival character so that probably biases the lens, but he's just so ambitious, and the ONLY time I ever felt any real vulnerability from him was when he was stressed about sucking at baseball.

But anyway. This detail. Part of my Asian American Aromantic Asexual experience was processing the shame of never continuing the family line lmao. And I imagine, as the ONLY son in a family within a patriarchal culture, that guilt is probably amplified, especially if your dad has this weird insistence on passing on the family name. It's a really queer fear, and a really aromantic fear.

So for Mei, part of what fuels his ambition to be the best pitcher in Japan is this sense that: this is the ONLY way I can give my dad what he wants, this is the ONLY way I can give him a legacy to be proud of. It's not his entire ambition, but it's part of it. I have feelings about Narumiya Mei.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]?

"Hey, what the fuck is up with the fight scene in That One Time That Dink Dinked Up?"

GLAD YOU ASKED.

There's this concept in musicals (I think Howard Ashman coined it?) and I'm paraphrasing horribly, but it's something like: when the characters get too emotional to speak, that's when they burst into song. Anyway, I've been trying to treat fight scenes as songs in musicals. A lot of writing advice regarding fight scenes is about the actual prose itself (which is great, and I definitely need it) but I also think it's important to lay the plot-emotion-etc groundwork for a fight scene.

In the rough draft, Dink and Time had a really horribly melodramatic conversation, and it was just Too Much. So I went back and turned it into a fight scene, which was MUCH better. Dink, internally, is fighting the idea that he's an unloveable piece of villain trash, and for him, Time represents the ideal heroic father figure he doesn't deserve! So he tries to kill him, or be killed by him. And Time is like, "no don't hate urself ur so funny haha".

In this household, we love turning the ideological conflict between two character's viewpoints into a literal conflict between those two characters!

6. What's one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn't get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

LKDJFAKLADJFADS OKAY THIS IS SO SUBTLE AND VERY VERY STUPID, BUT--

I establish in DotF that Sky needs sleep because he gets mean when he's sleep-deprived.

Anyway, the reason why "giving Legend a laxative, spilling ink on his bag, and invading his privacy" is his first and only plan upon hearing of Baby Time's ocarina hunt is that he hasn't been sleeping properly due to having dozens of nightmares about Legend's rotting corpse.