#smart contract definition

[disabledpirate]

Obsessed with the idea of Ed using the “x” as his signature not because he doesn’t know how to write but because he wants everyone to underestimate him so he can get the upper hand

[sobecomesomethingelse]

maybe paige’s god’s name should be vaughan, since one could make the argument that vaughan was the seed of the wound tree

[girlbeyondthegrave]

I Watched Beetlejuice Beetlejuice a Third Time: More Things I Noticed

Here’s my previous list for those that haven’t read it. Enjoy!

A lot of people on this post I made thought that the dog in the MacArthur Park sequence was Taco from the Ghosthouse segment where Beetlejuice appears in the audience. I am sad to report this is not the case. Taco is a chihuahua, and the dog that appears is more of a terrier. However, some people on Reddit wonder if the dog is the one that ran out in front of the Maitlands’ car and killed them. I haven’t rewatched the first movie yet to check.

When Beetlejuice stitches Lydia’s mouth shut, she’s more exasperated than afraid. She literally tries to yell, “COME ON!”

Beetlejuice looks so offended on Lydia’s behalf when Rory calls her codependent. Like, “Is he serious right now? Get him, babe!”

Beetlejuice appearing before Delia can finish summoning him furthers the eavesdropping theory I made in my earlier post, and if we go off that theory, we can explain by Beetlejuice wasn’t that bothered by being summoned away at the wedding. He’s overheard Lydia’s desire to take her relationships slow and her reluctance to marriage. (Which is most definitely because of him and the fact that the last living person she loved tragically died—even if their relationship was over before that point.)

In the film, Beetlejuice is the ONLY person that agrees to help Delia find Charles, which we see her do at the end of the movie. This means that Beetlejuice kept his word and helped Delia, and he didn’t keep her away from Charles after the wedding fell through.

“MacArthur Park” plays when the studio intros roll, during the wedding sequence, and the end credits—three times when we have three different iterations of Beetlejuice and Lydia’s dynamic, fun fact. This is meant to be their song, and although the song is about a doomed relationship, this part sticks out to me: “After all the loves of my life / You’ll still be the one.” It doesn’t matter if Beetlejuice gets the timing right. It doesn’t matter if Lydia marries him. He considers her “the one.” He’s always going to wait for her, as conveyed by “Right Here Waiting.”

Astrid opens pages about violation 699 and summoning sandworms via trapdoors. I understand that was meant to “foreshadow” later events and explain why she knew how to do those things, but the terms for 699 are barely on-screen, so it’s hard to catch the part where it lays out how bringing Lydia illegally into the afterlife makes her contract null and void.

When Delores appears at the church, there’s a huge gust of wind, and the Handbook moves, but NOTHING ELSE MOVES with that precision until Delores moves Lydia away from the altar. This is kind of a stretch, but I personally think it’s possible that Beetlejuice saw Delores, and he purposefully sent the book in Astrid’s direction. If we go off my eavesdropping theory, he clearly knows Astrid is a smart girl. Plus, he stopped her from getting to the book earlier, so he knows it’s a threat.

When Beetlejuice has a dramatic entrance or exit, it’s very intentional. He does a whole dramatic couple’s therapy bit for Lydia and Rory. He does the earthquake through the model with a slow rise from the smoke. But we’ve also seen him appear in straightforward ways, too, like how he appears randomly to spook Delia. Beetlejuice controls his entrances and exits, and so his dramatic exit at the end is intentional. He allows Lydia to send him away. He makes a big show of it. Lydia has been manipulated by Rory for years. He’s tried to control her and stifle her. When Beetlejuice lets Lydia send him away and makes a big show of it, he’s demonstrating the amount of control he’s giving to Lydia. He goes because SHE wants him to, not because he can’t stop her from saying his name.

(Editing to say that this post confirms the dog is Tim’s dog.)

[cottonlemonade]

Atsumu’s New Girlfriend

word count: 656 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Atsumu x chubby!Reader (feat. MSBY)

genre: fluff, crack, established relationship

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: Atsumu’s team doubts your existence

It wasn’t news to anyone that Atsumu came to work with a superior smirk and a not-so-humble brag on his lips but recently it seemed to have increased exponentially. Without much, or really any, resistance, he happily told his teammates that he went and got himself a girlfriend and would not stop talking about how great you were. From all the stories his friends had heard by now you were stunning, smart, beautiful, kind, gorgeous, got along great with his mom, and laughed at all his jokes. That alone gave them all reason to believe that you were entirely made up.

But one day they went to talk with their PR manager, going over contracts for a new brand deal and as they waited for the elevator Atsumu suddenly pointed to a framed newspaper article and called, “Hey! That’s my girlfriend!”

Curious despite their better judgment, the team crowded around the article and studied the group photo at the top. Sakusa didn’t waste any time and pointed to a trash can that was somewhat off in the background. “That one?”

He easily dodged the slap on the shoulder that would have earned him.

Atsumu grumbled something under his breath and then put his finger to the glass again, pointing to a young woman on the left, dressed in an immaculately tailored pantsuit that sat perfectly on your curves, a confident smile on your face. Underneath the picture, it listed the names and professions of the five people.

“Lawyer?!”, the others called in unison.

With the smuggest grin anyone had ever worn, Atsumu crossed his arms and nodded.

“Do you know what a lawyer is?”, Sakusa asked with a brow raised in doubt, “Can you even spell it?”

“Hey!”

“Just because you hired her and see her regularly, doesn’t make her your girlfriend.”, Meian added carefully.

“I didn’t hire her. I just talked to her.”,

Sakusa didn’t buy it. “You talked to her? With words? And she liked you?”

“Uh huh, just talked to her like normal.” The setter shrugged.

“Yeah, but you opening your mouth is usually where it ends.”, Bokuto said sheepishly.

“Maybe she isn’t normal either.”, Sakusa muttered.

“I’m gonna prove it to ya!”, Atsumu called, a very prominent blush on his face, “She is at my place right now waiting for me. Let’s all go there!”

“Honey, I’m hooome!”, Atsumu called as soon as he pushed open the front door. He immediately regretted it because he had never done that before but when there was no reply, Hinata, Bokuto, and Sakusa looked at him with pity. The rest of the team, not wanting to add to his probable humiliation, decided to leave it to his friends to tease him.

“She must be in the kitchen and can’t hear. She likes to listen to music.”, Atsumu explained as he kicked off his shoes, in a tone that sounded as if listening to music while cooking was somehow the quirkiest thing ever.

And truly, now that he said it, faint music was heard, coming from a room at the far end of the entryway. Atsumu half jogged, half slid with his socks on the wooden floor, and opened the door in question. The others followed.

There you were, in an untucked blouse over pinstripe dress pants with a makeshift apron - a dish towel tucked into the collar - offering a (loud and) highly emotional rendition of the Spirit soundtrack as you stirred something that smelled absolutely heavenly on the stove. The three guests let out a long “Ohhhhh” in understanding, then continued to watch for a few stunned moments, before Atsumu broke from the group.

“Hey babe.”, he purred and shuffled over to hug and kiss you Hello.

You wiped the tears the song had brought to your eyes away and looked past him to his friends, not a singular ounce of embarrassment on your face, you said, “I definitely didn’t make enough for all y’all.”

art: @_hermoon on Twitter

a/n: Just something silly. Also, Spirit is a phenomenal movie and never fails to make me cry!

brainstorm powered by @haikyu-mp4

[libraryraccoon]

Hey lol uh this is my first time requesting and stuff so I hope I won’t be a bother and stuff but could you do a male reader who’s a lot like mommy long legs from poppy playtime.

And basically he is the older sibling of angel dust and always been the parent for him through his struggles, but one day male reader decided to visit the Masquerade While filming, reader arrives and Angel Dust immediately tries to get them away before Valentino sees then. When the reader accidentally ruins the set, Valentino takes Angel Dust away and abuses him when made the reader very angry to the point realizing what’s happening to angel they became deranged to the point there eyes are now completely dilated, giving off an unhinged vibe there hair is now twisted and mangled, no longer the neat curls in there previous form there hands are enlarged maniacally, and his fingers are splayed and elongated to resemble claws. His body is also twisted in even more alarming and unnatural angles.

(Er I don’t really want to put that much but you can definitely decide if you want male reader to do something to Valentino but you don’t really need to do this if this is too much and I’ll completely understand😭)

Gender : Male

Pronouns used : None

Info : Reader is the older brother of Angel Dust.

Message of Raccoon : I didn't have too much idea for that one tbh. I will maybe rewrite it in the futur.

You were like the big brother/father of the Hotel Hazbin crew, and you were Anthony's biological big brother, or Angel Dust as he liked to be called in Hell.

You treated the entire Hazbin Crew like if they were your children, even Lucifer.

You cooked for them, helped Niffty with her work, you helped your kids the hazbin crew to solve their problems, you loved them like any good father would…

A perfect father !

But that also brought problems.

You wanted to break Angel Dust's contract with Charlie, but unfortunately some problems happened.

Charlie had set fire to the set/studio by accident.

But Valentino didn't want to know anything.

He took Angel Dust aside, and, fearing for your little brother, you followed them.

Seeing Valentino hit Angel Dust revealed why you were in Hell.

I neglected to mention that you, Mommy Long Legs!reader, were very protective and that you would do anything for those you saw as family.. This was also the reason of why you were in Hell.

Your eyes were big and black, completely dilated. The smile on your face didn't say anything good.

Your size had greatly increased, making you touch the ceiling of the room and making you appear much more intimidating and strong.

Your body was twisting every which way, in ways that shouldn't be possible. It was like you had no bones.

You took Angel Dust in one of your hand (kind of like Mommy Long Legs with Poppy) and pulled him away from Valentino.

“Don’t you dare touch my brother.” Is everything you said.

You would have killed Valentino right now if Anthony wasn't there, he don't need to see you kill him.

Valentino just nodded silently in fear, your shadow covering him.

"Great !" You said happily, placing Anthony on the ground before changing back to your smaller size.

After that, you, Charlie and Anthony had left the studio.

You might not have been able to cancel his contract today, but that's okay. You will do it another day.

And if Valentino was smart enough, he would do it himself without you needing to ask again.

After all this, Anthony has avoided upsetting you, not wanting to face the same anger as Val had to face.

[wanderingsoul6261]

Gif credit goes to thepalmofyourfreezinghand

Title: Me? Possessive? Never

James Beaufort x Reader

Synopsis: James and reader are in an arranged family to combine their families and wealth. They hate each other but soon grow to like each other. Dare they say that James might also be a bit possessive?

Warning:I don't think so? Unless possessiveness could be classified as one?

Written and posted via phone

If there was one thing that James Beaufort and Y/N had never expected, it wasn't that their parents would put them into an arranged marriage. It mostly for the sake of their parents and their businesses. The Beauforts created clothing. The Y/L/Ns created jewelry and other to be worn accessories, watches being amongst those. It was only smart and logical that the two families did what they could to help their businesses, apart from potential contracts in which they made material to compliment the other. 

And of course, they did this at the expense of their own children. 

Y/N had hoped and prayed that Elaine would picked by his parents to marry, but she had unfortunately picked the short straw. Being two of the richest families within England, her and James often butted heads over whose family was more superior. It was amusing at first, and then it got old. But when word spread that Y/N and James were to be wedded, It had suddenly become the talk of Maxton Hall, and in that moment, James and Y/N had never hated each other more. 

Regardless of what they thought of each other though, their parents forced them to go on outings together. They sat together at any meal they ate together and were always forced to be each other's plus one to events hosted by either family. Both James and Y/N felt as if they were being punished and never enjoyed themselves for a single minute. 

Until they did. 

But it was almost as If they also never knew it. 

They would be the last to admit to not only themselves and each other, but to everyone else that slowly inside of themselves, they have grown to expect banter and teasing from the other. And when that did not happen, they had grown to miss it. If James was not at school, Y/N had missed him, and vice versa, but you would never hear either of them admit it. Smiles were less snarky, more genuine, but only when the other wasn't looking, and even then, they never realized it. One watching the other when they weren't looking. They were changing their attitudes towards each other, and never once did they know it.

But everyone else did.

—

They were at a party hosted by none other than Cyril. Y/N had gone out and mingled with the many others that were there. James watched her from across the room, rolling his eyes as he only assumed they were asking about their engagement. It wasn’t like everyone already knew, but after several weeks of being talked about anywhere, he had only hoped it would die down. 

His eyes roamed over her appearance. She was dressed pretty casually. Parties like Cyril’s gave her the chance to do so. Gave them both the chance to do so. They were away from the judging eyes of their parents, therefore, able to wear and do as they wanted. Y/N though had simply decided to wear leggings and flannel with a white shirt underneath. James has come to know that that particular outfit was one she always wore when she wanted to be comfortable. And she definitely looked like it. 

James took a sip of his drink as Alistair came to stand next to him. 

“Staring at her an awfully lot.” Alistair stood shoulder to shoulder with James, who turned to look at him as he came up. 

“She's competition. Just watching. Is that wrong?” He asked. 

“You guys are getting married in a matter of months. I'd say that hardly makes her competition.” 

“We aren't married yet.” James flashed his friend a smile before turning his attention back on Y/N. His eyes tuned in on the person she was now talking to. He took In the guy's appearance. About as tall as James, kind of lanky. The guy didn't have a lot of muscle mass to him and James had already figured he could easily take him, not that he would, obviously. 

“Who's the guy?” Alistair asked. 

“Don't know, don't care.” James let out an annoyed huff, bringing his drink to his lips in an attempt to hide his grimace. He wasn't going to admit that the guy didn’t sit right with him.

“Don't care? Your glaring lasers at the guy.” He scoffed. “Yea. You don't care.” James looked briefly at his friend before back at Y/N and the mystery guy. Y/N looked disinterested, but kept the conversation going regardless. He had watched as the mystery guy's hand had come up and made contact with her, and James would admit, the guy was ballsy. 

His eyes glared slightly. Alistair caught the movement and smirked. 

“Do you like her?” He asked. James was caught off guard by the question, finally tearing his eyes off of Y/N. 

“What do you mean?” James decided on the playing stupid route. 

“You know what I mean. I've seen the change in the way you look at her. It might be easy to lie and cheat past Cyril because of his lackadaisical attitude. but not me. And the way you are staring at that guy right now, as he gets all close.” James turned his attention back to Y/N. The guy had brushed some hair out of her face and placed his hand on her bicep. He watched as it trailed down and went for her hand but she pulled it back. 

A breath of relief got caught in James' throat. Was he relieved that she pulled her hand away?

“And now he's touching her. And you don't like it.” James clenched his jaw as he turned to Alistair. His eyes searched his friend's face, but what he was trying to find, he didn't know. Alistair raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do James?”

James turned his attention back to Y/N. The guy now had a hand on her waist and she had started to look uncomfortable. He decided to that as his silent que.

“That's for the pep talk Alistair.” James cleared his throat, and proceeded over to where Y/N and the mystery guy were. 

His arm had come up and around Y/N's waist,pulling her away from him and against his own body. Her back thumped against his chest and his gaze leveled with that of the guy in front them. 

“James.” Y/N was surprised at the possessiveness. James had never acted like this before, especially not towards her. Her gaze turned to him, trying and failing to read him.

“Hello, sweetheart. Who is this?” He asked. Y/N swallowed, looked up at James and then the guy before them. 

“This is my ex. Oliver.” She stated. Her tone was bored, tired. James caught on that she didn't quite like the guy. Which was obvious, considering he was an ex. 

“And you are? 

James looked over at the guy. He sized him up and down. 

“James Beaufort.” He answered. “Her fiance.” Oliver had seemed to clam up. He swallowed nervously, his eyes moving back and forth between James and Y/N. James gave him a cocky smile, his fingers slipping underneath her flannel, palm settling on bare skin. “Also the heir of the Beaufort clothing line business. But we won't get into that.” James tilted his head slightly, maintaining the cockiness in his attitude.

Oliver caught sight of it, shuffling nervously in place. 

“Well, it's, uh. Good to meet you. I didn't know she was engaged.” 

“Personal information. We've only told those we are close to.” James explained. Oliver looked at Y/N. Y/N had a smile of amusement on her face. She enjoyed seeing Oliver squirm, especially if the main reason for it was because of James. Was he jealous? Did he see Oliver touch her? 

Oliver didn't have much to say after James joined the conversation, if you would call it that. 

“Mostly friends and family. People that we like.” Y/N added a sneer in her words as she spoke to Oliver. He winced. It was awkward for a few moments, as the three looked between each other, until Oliver extended his hand out to James. 

James only stared at it, before staring at Oliver. After a few moments of silence, Oliver withdrew his hand. He politely excused himself and left, leaving just the two to by themselves. 

The two watched him leave, and just as Y/N was about to question James, he spun her to face him and pressed a kiss to her lips. His hands found her cheeks, holding her against him. Y/N was engulfed in shock at the action, before her arms wrapped around his neck, pressing herself further against him. James was relieved when she sunk against him and begun to kiss him back. 

It confirmed to him what her feelings were, and it was now evident that they felt the same way towards each other. 

They finally pulled away, breathing heavily and looking at each other. It was silent for several moments. 

“I'll be honest. It's kind of hot when you're possessive.”

“I wasn't being possessive.” James defended himself. Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile on her face. He flashed one back, before pulling her back in for another kiss. James knew he could get used to that, and something told him that she felt the same way. 

---

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @sillyfreakfanparty

[spirits-n-giggles]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice HOT take:

Where are all my monster fuckers at?!?!?!

Who knew Betlegeuse had a heart? I mean yeah he tried to contract Lydia to marry him AGAIN, but the only deal they had was to save her daughter. He didn't have to bring Delia back for a goodbye, he didn't have to make Rory tell the truth, and.... HE was the one to have her sign the contract, but still broke the contract rules to help her out? Hmmmm....

Sure we can assume he's just connonically stupid and didn't bother to read the fine print - he didn't exactly have the most smarts when he was alive so take with that what you will. (EDIT: But I absolutely would argue that Betelgeuse has been burned at least once before when not reading the fine print on a marriage contract and I can see him rigorously knowing every single word in the one he made for Lydia since he's clearly had a thing for her for some time.)

Oh yeah, he's definitely the same sleazy, horny, rotted nasty ass as before, but now he's Lydia's sleazy, horny, rotted nasty ass, and I'm here for it!! 🖤💚 If you ask me, this movie was the start of their actual terribly beautiful relationship (give or take the musical and the TV show lol they can all fit together if we really wanted them to. It's called having an imagination.)

Plus, I love me a good old-fashioned contractual marriage plot. I might have seen one too many k-dramas but those are always the most fun and cononically, I see Lydia and Betlegeuse as more of a partnership marriage anyway where she uses her power to solve whodunit mysteries in the living world or some shit, and she works with BJ to get shit done - like the cartoon 90s show. I see it as a Scully and Mulder situation where - Lydia does actually love BJ (and even be into him), but she will never admit it.... until later. Now I just need a good slow burn.

Honestly, cononically she's most likely gonna die and they're gonna get together in the afterlife and no one can tell me otherwise!

There are definitely antis for this couple isn't there? Aaahhh~~ yes, I can smell their cheeto-covered fingers and day-old red bull breath as we speak. 🤌 (EDIT: I'm fine if you don't ship them, just please don't be a dick to me about my ship. :D)

[dinogoofymutated]

Okay so like,,,,I usually never make requests (I’m a lurker fr fr) but your writing Is god tier, so I gotta ask:

Could you do a fic for Hank/Beast? He’s my personal fave but I never see any content for him ever, like the fic scene for this man is a ghost town. he’s underrated as hell. My man is ripped, highly intelligent and respectful of the arts! Yet he doesn’t get any attention.

I would love to see some general headcanons (SFW & NSFW) if you’re up to it. no problem if you don’t write for him or something, I just thought i would ask.

Thanks!

SFW!Beast/GN!Reader

To be honest, I actually wasn't really sure about writing for Hank at first because I've never really had a connection to the character, but he grew on me!! Plus, I'm here to serve lolol we've been starved of fics as a Fandom for basically forever and it would be a disservice not to fill the Hank void out there! Hope it's okay that I only wrote Sfw headcannons, I have a separate req for NSFW for him so I decided to split it into two to save my sanity lol. Finals are gonna be hell for me.

-ps- Should I be writing right now? no. Am I doing it anyway? Yurp. Also, I'm basing his history off of the fandom wiki, so I'm sorry if anything is off.

Tws: none that I can think of atm. As always, reader written while picturing fem but no pronouns mentioned.

Hank, despite what some would think, was most definitely a heartthrob, particularly in his college days!! I mean, a man who's confident, smart, respectful, and also an athlete? Who wouldn't swoon? He was 110% the guy that everyone wanted to take home to their parents.

And He's such a sweet, attentive lover too!! Acts of service almost definitely is a love language for him. He cooks for you, fixes the broken things that you didn't even realize were broken, even organizes your notes before a difficult exam.

He loves to surprise you with flowers, even if it isn't any special occasion, and if you ask, he'll help you preserve them as well!

He loves to kiss your forehead, temples, and hands. On top of that, he's very touchy. The two of you were most definitely seen as the parents of any friend group.

Things changed a little after he took the serum that mutated him further. His confidence had taken a blow, and he just didn't quite know how to approach you anymore.

It took a hot minute to reassure him that you didn't really care if he was blue, or furry, or beastly, he was still Hank Mccoy, wasn't he? He was the man you were in love with, and you certainly weren't going to stop now. Besides, you still thought he was handsome. With the kinds of books he's seen you read, you're a bit surprised that he didn't think you would find him attractive.

Things gradually got back to normal, but for a while, he didn't kiss you as often as he used to. Well, he didn't kiss you period. Even though he knew the incredible extent to which you loved him, the shape of his mouth had changed. Hell, he had fangs that he would rather die than mark you with.

You practically had to tie him down into a contract to get him to kiss you again. He was always one to experiment, why not treat this the same? If you kiss, and it goes well, you do it again. If it goes well a second time and a third, you have a pretty reliable test. Validity shouldn't matter when he knew that you loved him to bits already.

He felt like he was falling in love with you all over again, and yet he still hesitated. It wasn't until you had grabbed him by the collar to drag him into a kiss that he actually relaxed, and what do you know, it was a pretty reliable test after all. A predictive one too, with how often you continued to kiss him afterwards.

Domestic was the best way to describe your relationship with Hank.

    You yawned as you made your way down to the lab, still in your pajamas and slippers. Just a few hours previously, after a shower and self-care routine, you had settled into bed with an eyebrow-raising book as you waited for your husband to come to bed. This was a normal routine for the two of you, you immersing yourself into a book to stay awake until Hank entered, kissed your temple sweetly, and began his own nightly routine. It was a set of events you were used to. 

    Today, however, you felt like you had done a lot more reading than usual. When you finally pulled yourself out of your book and checked the time, the clock by your bed read 11 pm. A rather late time for Hank to be out, but you already knew where he would be. The lower levels of the mansion were extra cold at night, and you find yourself rubbing some warmth into your arms as you approach the lab. 

    The doors open with a swish, the light of the lab having all been darkened exempt for the lamp on Hank’s desk. He’s so immersed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize when you come in. You walk up behind his chair, running your hands through his hair softly when you reach him.

    Hank isn’t surprised, sighing at the pleasant sensation as he tips his head back to encourage you. You giggle a little, leaning down to press a kiss to his head as you begin to massage his scalp.

    “It’s late.” You say gently. Hank hums in response, eyes closed as he appreciates your touch. 

    “I’m sorry, my love. Seems I was a little entranced.” He says. You huff at him playfully.

    “You say entranced, I say you’re overworking yourself. You’ve been working on this project all week. Don’t let it cut into your rest time.” Your scolding always sounded too nice, but he knows you mean it. Hank sighs again, this time sounding a little more tired, but he doesn't argue. He rolls around to face you, pulling you into a tired hug from his chair. 

     “Perhaps it is time I go to bed. What time is it, my dear?” 

    “Eleven.” Hank lets out a quiet chuckle at your quick reply, finally standing up. He doesn’t let go of you however, choosing to rest his head on your shoulder as he sways the two of you back and forth.

    “You’re most certainly right, it is late. Much too late for a man to leave his lovely spouse waiting. Oh, whatever shall I do to make it up to you?.” His words come out as a purr, and you let out a curt laugh at him. You pull away a little, taking his large hands in your own as you lead him to the door. He smiles widely when you stop for a moment, remembering his glasses and placing them on his face before starting to drag him to bed. 

    “I’ll let you decide that, Love. As long as you make it to bed, that’s apology enough for me.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Rock, Meet Hard Place 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss makes a deal that proves less than beneficial for you.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen

Author’s Note: This is what you asked for so don't even.

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Alright, sweet thing, you just make sure he knows I’m on his way, won’t you?” Hansen drawls over the phone. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, I will definitely do my job, Hansen,” you click around the computer as you drone dully towards the speaker phone. 

“Always so obedient, baby face.” 

“Mm, sure. ETA?” You ask curtly. 

He chuckles, “you sure know how to sweet talk.” 

“I’ll say... about an hour? Is that correct?” You rebuff. 

“You’re good,” he praises. 

“I’ll let Fowler know.” 

You reach over and hang up before he can get his next quip out. You can see why your boss isn’t his biggest fan, though you can’t say Fowler isn't much better. He’s grating in a much different way. 

You stand up and check your watch. You cross the office and knock on the door to the left of your desk. Your boss grumbles from the other side. 

“One hour,” you call through. 

“In,” he demands. 

You sigh. You really don’t need any more of his griping. All morning he’s been stressing you about Hansen. He really has no right to be so whiny. He chose this. He said the contract was too good to pass up. Faced with consequence of his own greed, he makes sure he’s not the only one to suffer for it. 

No matter how many times you remind him that business is business and you need to just get it over with, he doesn’t let up. You open the door and step inside. 

“Fowler,” you cross your arms. “I wouldn’t recommend any more caffeine.” 

“How do you know—maybe I don’t want another coffee.” 

“You shouldn’t have one but I could make some decaf,” you suggest. 

“Do you always have to do that? You don’t know what’s in my mind.” 

“I know you have your knife is in your boot and I would suggest you leave it at your desk,” you shrug. 

“You don’t always know,” he snarls and rolls his chair back. He bends his ankle over his knee and unstraps the sheath. “There, happy.” 

“Happy is a relevant emotion. I’m content. One hour, Fowler.” 

“One hour,” he mocks. “If you weren't so damn efficient...” 

“I know, sir, I’d be working for some CEO in New York, living every young girl’s dream.” You turn to the door. “About fifteen years too late.” 

You leave him as he issues another grumble. You pace around the office and go to the window. You peer out at the green lawns and let your vision blur. You chose to never be a wife or mother, too much hassle, yet after everything, you’re still reining in children. Forty-year old manchildren. 

“New jacket,” Fowler comments as he emerges from his office. 

“It was new about five years ago,” you turn to face him and lean on the trim of the window. 

“Which one?” He holds up two hangers; a leather jacket and a blue blazer. You squint.  

“You joining a golf club or a biker club?” You snip. 

“Don’t be a smart ass,” he tosses the leather jacket into the cushioned chair against the wall and unhooks the blazer from the hanger. “I swear, I don’t need lip from the both of you.” 

“What do you mean? Hansen was absolutely delightful.” The dryness in your voice chafes in the air. He shakes his head. 

“Idiot,” he mutters, “but a deadly idiot.” 

He pops his collar before he pulls the jacket over his shoulders. He folds it back down and goes to the oval mirror hung to the right of the door. He fixes a shank of his short hair as it juts up from his crown. You watch, disinterested, from your perch against the window sill. 

“You couldn’t put a dress on for the special occasion,” he challenges as he faces you. 

You have to keep from flicking your eyes up. You go to your desk and sit, “I’ll wear one when you do.” 

“Wouldn’t you like a peek?” He scoffs. 

You don’t answer. He might despise Hansen for the same, but he can be cocky in his own right. Most men in this line of work, or just at that level, have an overinflated ego. Likely a bit of compensation for lacking elsewhere. 

“Come on, let’s get moving,” he snaps his fingers. “What do you think? Outside? The den? Dining room?” He asks. “I could sit at the end of the table, have him stand at the other end like a peasant in a medieval court?” 

“Oh, this is going to go well,” you stand again. 

“Ah, come on, Harpy, you’ll be there to keep us civil.” 

You give him a look. He tosses the nickname out when he wants to irk you but he’s yet to get the reaction he wants. You don’t let him have that much. He gets twelve hours of your day, sometimes more, and nothing else. 

“So maybe I should bring the knife,” you remark. 

“Mm, interesting. He definitely wouldn’t see it coming but I think those daggers in your eyes are sharp enough to keep him at bay,” he snickers.  

“If you really want my opinion,” you approach him, “meet him in the den. Have a drink. Keep his hands busy.” 

“Oh, are you worried about me? You think I can’t handle him?” 

“Not worried. I know the kind of man he is. And the kind you are,” you muse. “You should both keep your hands visible. I don’t like cleaning up blood.” 

He laughs again. 

“No coffee, but I can have whiskey? Guess that’s fair,” he turns on his heel and struts into the hall. You follow.  

You won’t say it, but you don’t see why you need to be there at all. It’s hardly the sort of meeting where you need to keep minutes. 

[bobbile-blog]

Okay so I've finally gotten to Jessicalter's Oprec and now feel qualified to talk about Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures. holy shit. This went straight into my list of top Arknights events. Fantastic event, spoilers will be under the cut so I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading the event first. It's really good and worth your while.

Anyway, what follows is a scattered mess of thoughts about this event and things that stuck out to me.

First off, plot stuff! I'll probably cover this when I do my next plotline recap post, but what I took away from the end is that Clip Cliff seems to want to make Blacksteel independent, or at least more self-determining than it is now. He seems to be gathering resources and assets like mobile city plates and investing in long-term infrastructure like merc training, so he definitely has a long game he's pushing for. I don't think we know enough go speculate about his goals, but we'll definitely be coming back here again. After all, Tila has an infection monitor in her art, which probably means she's going to be playable at some point in the future.

Next, having looked into this a little on my own, I was interested in some of the previous places Raythean has shown up. Specifically, the ones that stood out were the drones in the Kazimierz Major and arming Silverash's forces in Kjerag, which might be referring to the Tschäggättä. It's not just notable for their apparent level of technology, but also as a faint connecting thread between three separate capitalism plotlines. I don't know if that's going to be meaningful in the future, but I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd bring it up.

Now on to more narrative things. While I love Liskarm and Franka, I do think it was the right choice to give them less screen time in this event. They're both (for the most part) fully-realized characters who understand their own motivations and morals. This is above all else an event about Jessica learning to stand on her own as an adult, so it makes sense that they're more here to support her than they are to play their own roles in the story.

Speaking of said roles, I liked the event's commentary on cops. It pointed out an interesting distinction that I wouldn't really have ever thought of, that between mercenaries and cops. To start: cops exist to protect property, not people. The police exist to protect things and do not have an obligation to err on the side of people over things, and in fact are supposed to do the opposite. This event understands that, and that role os the core of how the bank treats the Blacksteel mercs. CV, however, raises an interesting point that mercenaries are bound by the letter of a contract and not the larger obligation to property cops are, so they can actually raise moral objections and point to their contracts, sort of a Lawful Evil/Lawful Neutral to cops' Neutral Evil. The independence of their position with respect to cops allows for more of an independent morality than you'd get in a cop story and I like that, I think it's a really smart direction to take your writing in.

On a (mostly) separate note, holy shit Arknights is really good at writing cowboy stories. Between this and chapter 9 (and I would argue An Obscure Wanderer), Arknights has repeatedly made it clear that they Do Not Fuck Around with their cowboy stories and I'm surprised I haven't heard more people talking about it. It kinda has everything:

- It takes place in a rural, working-class setting undergoing a larger imminent societal shift that can inform the larger narrative, and deals with a semi-mythologized past that is rapidly disappearing.

- It has a protagonist and an antagonist that serve as foils, both very heavily affected and defined by the (same) violence in their past that they've both had different reactions to. Our protagonist has come to terms with the violence as a tool to maintain order, while our antagonist has used it for personal gain and in some ways lost control of it.

- It's a story about community, and heavily emphasizes local and personal community over larger artificial corporate "community". That's my reading of the recurring motif of the cold btw, warmth represents the close, personal community Davistown used to have and the cold that now pervades it comes from how the bank has systematically dismantled that community.

- And, I'd argue most importantly, it understands the narrative power of a bullet. The Showdown at the end of a cowboy story is powerful because we've spent the entire runtime of our story with these characters, and they are now facing each other down with the intent to end one of their collective two stories. The entire weight of the narrative so far comes to rest on a single moment of tension. It's really hard to gather up the kind of narrative momentum you need to make that hit like it does in CV. For example, it requires a really light hand with actual action in the story, so that it really does feel like it's an even standoff between our protagonist and antagonist. On the other hand, though, you do actually have to establish the relative skill of both parties and actually sell the danger of the moment to the audience. It's really hard to toe the line between tension and actual action in a way that makes for a satisfying resolution, and CV does it extremely well.

Honestly, Arknights just seems really good at getting the vibes of American media right. This is something I noticed in DV and Lonetrail too, and I haven't really been able to put my finger on what it is about them, but the vibes are just really on-point. I want to write more about this at a later point once I actually figure out what it is that I'm feeling, but maybe it's the setting, maybe it's the cast, maybe it's the plot points, maybe it's something in between — it just seems to understand the spirit of period cowboy stories in a way that I can't describe. Good shit.

Finally, I wanna end this with where Jessica is now. The events of CV take place In between the events of Loneterail and Ideal City, so the current "now" of the story is a few months ahead. Jessica left for the frontier along with Woody, Helena, and Miles. They live together in a small new settlement, building the place from the ground up with Woody and Jessica acting as town sherrifs. At the point we're at now, rhe town is fairly well-established and Woody has temporarily left on other business, leaving Jessica the sole sherrif of their new settlement. However, she's risen to her new station, and is growing into a stronger person than she ever was before.

[thearchercore]

I say they aren’t revealing the contract length so its less embarrassing for them down the road if they flop in 2024 and Charles leaves :p

that man most likely girlbossed iron exit clauses. the moment ferrari don't stick to their promises, he would likely start to engage with other offers immediately. he's in his prime, and if he loses all faith in his own team, and he cannot do anything about it, he could leave.

he's not dumb, like some people on ig or twitter make it sound like that. but he's actually really smart when it comes to negotiating from what we've seen, and we can see it on little details, like charles getting a separate contract renewal without carlos. or when they did not specify the years which is ODD as hell, def not the usual practise.

there are tiny details you can see, and im still definitely seated to see how this situation evolves. people are saying "rip lestappengate" like it's over but i believe it's quite the opposite, we're now just seeing the result of it.

charles publicly flirted with red bull to gain advantage for his ferrari negotiations, this super extra announcement was the result -- ferrari is letting him take the lead in car development, they are building a winning car FOR charles (did not mention carlos) so there are signs they may be going in the direction of charles as a leader.

only time will tell, but lestappengate essentially was about giving charles a team with a championship winning car to fight max properly on track, and if he can achieve that at his own team with this new contract, then good for him.

if not, red bull still keeps showing interest in charles, so kicking off lestappengate 2.0 wouldn't be unrealistic.

[httpscomexe]

I’ve recently become obsessed with Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett, and I love your FSD and Ensnared series.

I wanted to make a request on a poolverine one where Deadpool and Wolverine were both hired by the Avengers to find the reader and bring her to the tower because even though she’s just a normal civilian, she actually has some secret shit up her sleeves like a Mafia boss or something, but they kinda grow on her?

Thank you 💛❤️

Risk of Contract - Red and Yellow

Summary: You’re back to partying after a few years of giving up, but of course, your idols have to get in the way, and you quickly learn just how bad you’ve fucked up with the Avengers.

(Find what I'm currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Pairings: Logan x Reader x Wade

Warnings: Individual Warnings PerChapter - Kidnapping, drugging, language, cruel jokes, underage drinking, mentions of murder, blood, fight, sexual jokes, Honda odyssey, early stage obsession? Logan and Wade are both warnings.

Word count: 4815 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know through an ask, DM, or comment. Thank you. (This fic is going to be a non-con with triggering kinks such as blood kinks and pain kinks)

P.P.S. Red and Yellow=Wade and Logan, Yellow=Logan, Red=Wade

There it was again. Another TikTok edit of Logan Howlett on your FYP. You’ve considered deleting all of your socials a few times. Your little crush had developed into an obsession. Which, for some reason, was becoming unhealthy. For some unknown reason, it made you genuinely sad that you knew you would never be able to meet Wolverine or Deadpool. Hell, you lived right in New York, and you’ve never even seen Spiderman for fucks sake. Everyone else has, but for some reason, you haven’t.

It actually made you jealous of your friends.

Yea, you were a normal college student who was working for your degree, but you lived in the heart of the city and you’ve never seen any of the heroes. Worst of all, you’ve never seen Wolverine or Deadpool, your idols. They weren’t the best to look up to, but you loved them.

Every edit you got on instagram or TikTok almost had you crying yourself to sleep.

So yea, it was unhealthy.

But you couldn’t help it. And with Halloween being today, it was even worse. Maybe a Wolverine costume wasn’t per-say the best idea.

You felt like a weirdo being obsessed with the two men, but you didn’t care.

You’re a loner in the school. The only reason people knew you was because you’ve shown up to parties on multiple occasions uninvited, but one specific time you got overly drunk, and your ex just wouldn’t leave you alone. So you got into a bit of a fight, and broke some kids' furniture.

That was in the past though, and he finally forgave you after two years, so there you were again. Dressed in a slutty Wolverine costume, walking up the front steps of the rich kids mansion, his parents went out on their annual work trip for Halloween.

Of course, you weren’t the only one dressed as Wolverine. The fight for humanity was just won to protect your earth, so obviously everyone was dressed as them. The most realistic being some of the football players.

“Hey! Y/N!” You turn as your friend runs towards you, a bald cap on her head. She was dressed as Charles Xavier of course. She was still disappointed she wouldn’t be able to bring a wheelchair to the party. Her definition of a cruel joke. “Love it, you look hot.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, bringing your hands up to show the claws you programmed to come out upon clicking a button with your thumb, her mouth making an ‘O’ shape as they retract.

“That’s cool as fuck, I wish I was smart, your costume is way cooler than mine.”

“Pfft, what? You are absolutely rocking that bald cap.”

“Oh har har, very funny.” She walks up to the front doors of the mansion with you. “I’m glad Luke is letting you back in, just don’t fight anyone this time please.”

“I’m not promising anything.” She rolls her eyes and shows one of Luke’s bodyguards the texts on her phone which proved she was invited, then you show yours.

“You again? There better not be another fight.”

“Promise.” You tell him, your friend looking back and rolling her eyes.

“What happened to no promises?” She whispers, a smirk on her face as she walks in with you.

“They don’t count.” You tell her, immediately making your way to the table with red cups, and you quickly pour yourself a drink.

“Maybe you shouldn’t drink this time?”

“Oh hush, don’t deny me my happiness.”

“Still think you should go to rehab.” You give her a look, which she immediately takes as a sign to shut up.

“Hey, surprised you showed up.” An arm lays over your shoulder, you look over to see your best friend, and he’s dressed as Spiderman for the fifth year in a row.

“Spiderman again, Peter?”

“He’s my favourite, I think he’s cool.”

“He’s probably not.” You shrug, messing with him.

“Well you’ve never met him.”

“Yea, well I’m not as lucky as you.” You roll your eyes, taking the first sip of your drink.

“Hey Ned, how’s it going?” Peter's arm leaves your shoulder, and he goes to greet Ned before they do their long ass secret handshake. One they do so often you’ve memorised it.

“Peter Parker?” Flash… “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I come here every year…”

Their conversation fades out as you stop listening to it. Flash being the asshole you fought with in the first place.

You start to think again that maybe you shouldn’t be there. You could always go to another party or just get drunk in your own dorm, you weren’t sure why you even bothered coming.

Right.

Michelle.

“Hey, yay. You came.” MJ nudges you to get your attention. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long.” You answer her, drinking some more and you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but you ignore it.

“Are you alright?”

“Yea, why?”

“You seem different.” She tells you, tilting her head up a little and her eyes stare down at you. “I don’t know what it is.”

“I don’t-”

“Did you take drugs?”

“What- No-”

“I’m joking, calm down, you don’t have to take everything so seriously.” She teases.

“I’m not taking anything seriously.” You chuckle. “I’m totally chill right now.”

“Oh my God, stop yelling at me, it was a joke.”

“You jerk.” You playfully punch her shoulder. Her little tactic to put a smile on your face works, as usual. You take another sip of your drink, the alcohol easily slipping down your throat.

Looking around the mansion, which was now filled with people, your suspicions were true. A majority of the kids were in their Deadpool and Wolverine costumes.

“What are you supposed to be right now?” You ask MJ, your eyes trailing up and down her costume. It was like a child mashed together a bunch of colours.

“Oh my little sister made it for me. I’m Captain Spider.”

“Captain Spider?”

“Yea, Captain America and Spiderman.”

You try not to laugh, you really do. And you don’t.

It comes out as more of a snort. Then it turns into a laugh.

“Not funny, she worked so hard on it.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You continue laughing, covering your mouth to try hiding it.

“Are you already drunk?”

“What? No…” You lie. “What makes you think that?”

“You giggle a lot when you’re drunk, but not normal giggling, it's obnoxious.”

“Oh please, go find your boyfriend. He’s Spiderman.”

“What about you?”

“I think I’m gonna leave.” You see the visible disappointment on her face as you tell her you’re going to leave soon. You didn’t like the party aspect of parties. Always too many people.

Then there was Flash…

“Hey, glad you finally forgave me.” Shit.

“Who says I forgave you?”

“Well you showed up so I assumed-”

“I don’t forgive you.”

There’s silence between the two of you before MJ speaks up.

“Let’s um… Let’s calm down, how about Flash you go that way, and Y/N-”

“Yea Y/N, calm down.” Flash interrupts her.

“Don’t interrupt my friend…”

“Or what?” He puts his drink down on a nearby table, a little harshly as some alcohol jumps out and drips onto the table under it.

“I beat your ass last time I’ll do it again.” You tell him, you head tuning out MJs voice.

“You did not win that fight.”

“You would’ve been in the hospital if Peter hadn’t pulled me off of you.”

“You weren’t even close to that level.”

“I broke your nose, asshole, why do you think your face isn’t symmetrical anymore?”

“One more word.” He warns, but you only smirk. You throw your head back, finishing your drink in one big gulp before setting down your empty red cup next to his full one.

“Fuck you.”

Your hand swings first, before he can even process what you had said. He looks back up, stunned from the punch as a trickle of blood leaks from his nose.

“I think I fixed it.”

“Asshole!” He jumps at you, knocking you into some other people dressed as animals.

“Hey!” You hear Luke’s voice, his dumbass shouldn’t have invited you again. Or he shouldn’t have invited you both at least, that would’ve been logical.

He tries to get to you as you easily overpower Flash, on top of him as he covers his face, preventing you from throwing punches at his nose, but his arms were sure to have bruises. You knew Luke wouldn’t be able to reach the two of you, he was skinny, and the crowd of people barely moved an inch as he tried to push them out of the way.

“You fucking bitch get off!” Flash yells from underneath you, his hand finding an empty Cola can on the ground which he quickly smashes against the side of your head before getting up quickly, immediately grabbing something from the table as you pop onto your feet, you knew better than to turn your back on the person you’re fighting. “You crazy fucker…” He mumbles, a full bottle of alcohol in his hand being held by the neck, which he was ready to smash on you. But you didn’t care as you wiped a little sliver of blood off your cheek and walked towards him. You had much more experience in fighting than he ever will. “Come on! Come at me!”

“Do you ever shut up?” You groan, and he swings the bottle at you, which easily smashes over your head, and as you drop to the ground, your arms wrap around his legs, making some people gasp as you drop him back onto the ground, your knee sliding over broken glass as blood seeps through your Wolverine costume, your fist colliding with his jaw, not nearly all of your strength put into the punch, as you didn’t exactly plan on breaking his jaw.

Though it might do him some good.

And you were about to let him pull the white flag, your fist halfway in the air, preparing to come back down, but then he spoke again, and it pissed you off.

“You’re such a freak.” He pauses, and then the next part blows your steam.

“It’s no fucking wonder your dad abandoned you.”

You jaw clenches, and all mercy leaves you body as you’re about to put all of your strength into the punch, but a force stops you, and you’re forced to your feet.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?”

“Y/N?”

“Her eyes…”

You hear everyone mumbling, but you don’t bother paying attention as the arms around your waist bring you away from Flash. You can’t seem to turn your head, your eyes are locked on him, some camera flashes hitting your pupils, but you ignore it. You wanted to fight-

No.

You wanted to fucking kill Flash.

But you’re dragged away, and only when a hand slaps you across the face do you snap out of it, and you’re outside now, two of the football players standing in front of you. One in a Deadpool costume, the other in their Wolverine costume.

In anger, you shove at the one dressed as Wolverine, and he barely budges as he stares down at you, his mask covering his face.

“What the fuck man! I had him!” You shout as you push him. “Fuck!” You scream, the outside of the mansion's front yard completely empty as everyone else continues partying inside.

“Not very pretty words for a very pretty mouth.” Excuse you?

“Excuse me?” You look at the one dressed as Deadpool, your voice stunned, sounding offended as he stares down at you.

“How about you calm down?”

If another person tells me to calm the fuck down…” You shout the last few words, it was worse than being told to smile more.

And for the first time, you look up at the dude's face who was wearing the Wolverine costume. He was a full grown fucking man. He almost looked like… No, it wasn't possible.

There was no way the real Deadpool and Wolverine would just show up to some random Halloween party, they had more important things to deal with.

Or so you thought.

But then your stomach drops as the man takes off his mask.

It was really him.

You turn your head to look at the guy in the Deadpool costume- err- suit. He had already removed his mask.

Sure enough, it was the real deal.

“What the fuck-?” You mumble.

Of all the ways you see these guys face to face, it was like this.

Blood leaking down your face from your scalp because a bottle was smashed on your skull, your lips also covered in it from the amount of blood, well- basically the entire right side of your face was covered in the blood, some still occasionally dripping down from the cut on your scalp, and you knees were also blooded, along with a huge gash on your thigh as it seeped through your yellow costume, staining the fabric.

“You got a nice punch for a college girl.” Wolverine speaks up finally, his arms crossed as he stares down at you, almost like he hates you.

“Well that's because she’s a bit more than that, ain’t that right?” Deadpool asks you rhetorically, and you debate how to answer it before your phone starts ringing in your pocket.

You pull it out, the screen now cracked from the fight, the screen telling you that ‘Mark’ was calling, so you pick it up and take a step back from your idols.

“Hey man, what’s uh- what’s up?”

“Did you get my text?”

“Probably, I just haven't seen it yet, why?”

“Well how about you look at it, it’s really fucking important.” He hangs up. Such an ass.

You open the messaging app, one notification from him.

And your heart stops.

Shit. You tell yourself.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

You slowly look back up at the two men. They knew exactly what the call was about.

Of course, you finally meet these two, in the wrong setting, at the wrong time, wearing the wrong thing, and for the wrong reason. Couldn’t possibly be worse.

“Anyways, uh… I should- I should really go-” You tell them, your voice shaking embarrassingly as you take a few steps back, they take the same amount of steps forward.

So you break out in a run, it doesn’t last long though.

You’re quickly stopped, your hair pulled as one of them drag you back.

“Woah there biscuits, we just wanna talk.” Wade turns you around, holding you by your shoulders as Logan tenses up, just waiting for you to run. “We’re not gonna kill you, just a few questions and we will be out of your hair.”

“Really?”

“Yes, then replaced by Nick Fury's agents.” You scoff as he keeps you still. You don’t bother fighting back, you knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to overpower him.

“Wonderful that makes this so much better. Look.” You gently take his hands off your shoulders. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m definitely not who you think I am.”

“Oh you are. We know exactly who you are.” Logan speaks.

“Who am I then? I am a twenty year old college girl with a drinking problem who goes to my friend's drama club every Friday. Doesn’t sound very Wolverine and Deadpool worthy.” You blab out, hoping they’d just leave you alone.

“No, see. You’re the girl who was abandoned, or rather ran away,” Ouch. “At a very young age because of daddy issues, who decided that she would cope with the loss by becoming a very, very hated bounty hunter, mercenary, assassin, whatever you may go by.” Wade spits out, nodding a little in the end. “But we just have a few questions.”

“Fuck you.”

“Again, your mouth is too pretty to be saying that nasty word-”

“Wade enough.” Logan shuts him up, and looks down at you, bending down a little to reach your height. “You going to tell us everything you know about your boss, or we are going to have our fun fucking your face up before we give you to Fury.”

“Again, you have the wrong person.”

“Give it.” He stands straight, holding his hand out to Wade as the guy in red reaches into his pocket, placing a syringe into his palm. “You don’t wanna talk? Fine. We won’t let you go.” He tells you, taking the cap off the needle and grabbing you as you try to move away before stabbing the pin into the side of your neck, and he pushes the contents into your veins.

When you wake up, it feels like you’ve been sleeping in a dusty room for years, your body immediately gasping and coughing for years as the smell of alcohol and murky water clouding your lungs like we're in a swamp.

Your head spins, and you groan in pain, whatever they injected you with fucking hurt. You wouldn’t be surprised if it expired as you sit there, feeling paralyzed. Each of your limbs in pain and a tear falls from your eye, but you sit up, the worst of the pain targeted towards your waist, like you’ve done a thousand curl ups without a break.

The room is as you expect it to look, the murky scent of a swamp on making you lightheaded. There’s a green glow on the walls as the sun shines through a window curtain, and you’re sitting in a bed that was more than likely the origin of the smell, a dirty hand rag sitting on the edge.

“Fucking disgusting…” You mumble as you throw your feet over the edge of the bed, your bare skin touching the cold, worn wooden floor. You make your way to the bedroom door, expecting it to be locked but it opens easily, the hinges screaming as you slowly open it, checking for anyone in sight, but there was no one. Until a head peeks up from behind a counter.

“Are you awake girl?” The voice asks, an older woman's face looking towards the area you were standing in, but not quite. “Hello? I swear I heard the door open…” She mumbles, and stumbles towards you. She’s blind. You realise, stepping to the side slightly to avoid her running into you.

“H-Hi?”

“Oh! Hi. So you are awake.”

“Yes, sorry. Where am I?” You ask as she begins to walk back over to behind the counters, tripping on the way over a box but catching herself.

“Dammit Wade, stop moving things…” She growls, her teeth clenched. “You are in my humble abode. Wade said to keep you here until he got back.”

“Well, I have to go-” You take a single step towards the front door, but stop.

“My name is Althea hun, what’s yours?” She asks, and you tell her your name. “That’s a very pretty name. Wade and his friend Logan have said a lot about you.”

“Have they…?” You roll your eyes a little. What could those two possibly say about you, someone they’ve never met before.

“Yea, they tell me you’re stubborn, but you’re smart.”

“That's… not a lot, but okay.”

“Oh there’s more, mainly from Wade but I don’t think you want to hear the sexual fantasies that I was cursed to listen to from the day I met him.” Your eyes squint in confusion, and your mouth moves as if you’re about to say something, but nothing comes out. “Are you hungry? I know Wade has some leftover mac and cheese, but it’s shaped like unicorns. Although I can’t see very well obviously and I personally think they’re shaped like a penis. Or at least that’s what the shape feels like when I eat it.” She opens the fridge taking out a tupperware bowl and she slides it onto the counter. With as much as you wanted to leave, you didn’t want to be rude.

“Yea no they uh…” You look down at the leftover noodles. “Yea those aren’t unicorns.”

“I fucking knew it.”

“OH! That was amazing! A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!” You turn around quickly, and you’re met with Wade removing his mask as Logan walks in behind him like a lost puppy. Logan's eyes quickly land on you while Wade talks about whatever was so amazing. “Gasp! She’s awake.”

“You don’t actually say gasp, Wade.”

“Well it’s more fun to say gasp than to gasp you should try it some time. Oh wait, you’re too busy grumbling to be able to gasp.” Ironically, Logan grumbles something under his breath. “Well hey there goody-two-shoes. Has blind Al kept you entertained?” Blind Al? He hooks his arm over Althea's shoulders and takes the tupperware of noodles from her. “What’s wrong? Not a fan of the unicorn noods?” He laughs a little, opening the container before picking up some of the noodles with his fingers and shoving them into his mouth as Althea mumbles something you don’t hear, then there’s a presence behind you.

“How long have you been awake?” Logan asks you, his hand settling on your shoulder as you jump to the sound of his voice.

“She hasn’t been up long. Maybe five minutes.” Althea answers for you. “Now are you sure you aren’t hungry? We’ve got crackers, cup noodles-”

“I ate the cup noodles.” Wade interrupts.

“Well we have crackers still and-”

“I ate the crackers with the noodles.”

I’m sure we have half a cucumber left in the fridge.”

“What? Last time I used that thing it wasn’t cut.”

“Used?”

There’s a long silence before Logan speaks up again. “Look, kid.” He makes you face him. “We just have some questions. S.H.I.E.L.D wanted us to bring you to them, but they have this torture method I’m not very fond of that they use when people don’t co-operate.” He explains, his eyes staring into yours, searching for an understanding. “And I know you aren’t the co-operating type, to Wade and I thought it would be best to bring you here. But if you don’t cooperate with us…” He gives you a warning look, and you nod a little. “Good.”

“I just don’t get why they need to question me.”

“You’re smart. And that makes you a threat.” He tells you, and sighs. “So are you hungry?”

“I’m okay.”

“You haven’t eaten in two days.”

“Two-” You stutter, your eyes widening and your eyebrows quirking up. “Two days?”

“Yea, and you don’t even wanna know what Wade did in the bed next to-”

“Okay Ms. Menopause, don’t you have an eye appointment at 2?” Wade shuts her up.

“Why would I have an eye appointment? I’m blind.”

“Let's talk outside.” Logan grabs your arm, and leads you outside of the little apartment.

“I just don’t get it, I didn’t do anything wrong. At least not recently.”

“You have a suit.” Fuck. You freeze as he brings you into the hallway and looks down at you. His height is more intimidating than it should be.

“I- Have… A suit?”

“Yes. Which Tony Stark believes was created by Stark tech. He had a shipment that was stolen last week, and it’s leading back to you.” You stand there speechless. Feeling ridiculous as your shift on your feet, still wearing your Wolverine costume. You didn’t steal shit.

“I did not steal anything.” You answer him honestly. Who in their right minds would steal Stark tech? That’s a death wish.

“Well, they say otherwise, so until you can prove your innocence and that you are not a threat, especially considering you murder people for a living-”

“Woah okay.” You put your hands up defensively. “I have not murdered someone in a little over two months, it gets stressful.”

“Big pay.”

“Really big pay, but not enough for me to do it like it’s a full time job.”

“Then how do you make money on the side? Part time theft?”

“Are you kidding?” You ask, genuinely. “No, I’m a lab assistant at the college I go to.”

“Is that where you get your tech?”

“No, I buy stuff off Facebook and then break it down and repurpose it.”

“With the money you make from murdering people?”

“No, with the money I make from grading chemistry tests.”

“That’s barely $300 a month, I know how much you make.”

“Stalker alert.”

“Look.” He sighs, rubbing his hand down his face. “What was the name of the last man you killed? On March the twenty-third?”

“Does it matter?”

“Oh it matters.” He nods. “It matters a fucking lot. That was a very important person.”

“He was a drug dealer and trafficked children.”

“Yes, and he had very vital information, which the physical evidence was destroyed in the fire you decided to start.”

“I didn’t decide to, it just kind of happened.”

“You turned on a lighter and threw it behind you.”

“So you can get video evidence on that but not video evidence on what he did to children?”

“Did you get anything out of her yet or do we need to waterboard her?” Wade steps out, a dog in his hand. What the fuck?

“We are not waterboarding her.”

“But it always works.”

“I can breathe underwater.” You break into the conversation, and both of their heads turn.

“You’re a mutant?” He asks, more of a declaration though.

“Will that be used against me?”

“Say it again I wanna get it on recording.” Wade giggles a little and hands Logan the hairless pug, its collar reading “Mary Poppins,” then he takes out his phone, the case was adorned with pink sparkles and a unicorn sticker that was peeling off and covered in blood.

“Your friend thinks everything is a joke?” You ask him, and he just nods.

“Yea, you have to be a dick to him first and insult his past if you want him to be even a little serious.” He scratches the dog's head.

“Speaking from experience I’m assuming.” He nods.

“Uh oh, the one eyed ninja is calling me, do I pick up?”

“Yes you pick up, or he’ll come here.”

“Hello Mr. Fury.” Wade speaks into the phone. “Oh no, we still haven’t found her.” He pauses, presumably letting Fury speak. “No, no. We’ve got everything under control.” You reach out and pet the dog that’s still in Logan's arms, and her tongue reaches out to lick you. “No you do not have to put another bullet through my head, that hurt last time- what? No. Of course I’m not lying to you.” Then he suddenly reaches over, and knocks hard on the wall next to him. “Oh? Do you hear that? That’s the stripper I ordered, I have to go before it gets cold. Okay love you bye-” You hear the hang up dial tone before Wade even finishes his sentence. “He’s on his way.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Logan growls, handing Wade back the dog.

“Oh I wish. He doesn’t know you’re here though because of the whole…” He moves his hand in a circular motion. “You know, our universe Logan being dead and all… So I guess you can take Y/N and go out for a few hours, come back when I text you it’s safe.”

“And how will he know it’s you texting, not Fury?” You ask.

“We have a safe word.”

“Safe word…?” You look between them. “Like for sex.”

“Yes.” “No.” Two different answers.

“You’re both chaotic.”

“Lovers franchise.” Wade whispers.

“His ‘safeword,’ is bazinga. Whatever the fuck that means.” He makes air quotes.

“Okay well, I’d rather be with you two than see whatever Fury has in stock for me. Where was he? Is he on his way or-?”

“Oh he’s waiting by the front door.”

“What?” You and Logan say in unison.

“Yea, so you’ll have to take the fire exit.

This fucking dude.

Logan growls and grabs your wrist before leading you down the hall and to the window at the end of it before sliding it open.

“Come on.” He steps out, and grabs your hand to help you, not letting go until you were both steadily standing on the metal stairs of the fire exit, then he closed the window and he led you the way down.

“So where are we gonna go?” You ask as you both reach the ground, him helping you down as if you’re fragile. Which you weren’t.

“I know a place.”

“Just don’t murder me…” You mumble, sort of a joke as he leads you to the parking lot, a set of keys in his hands as he clicks a button on them, a Honda Odysseys lights blinking as it unlocks.

“As long as you behave and tell me everything.” He opens the passenger door for you.

“I can guarantee you will not be harmed.”

[st4rg1rl-16]

━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ lewis responds to what arabella said in drive to survive starting a little rivalry between them

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 31st march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ manama, bahrein

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ angst because bella tries to push everyone away, lewis being confusing and cursing

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ not an accurate description of a race (i don't really know how to write that so this will do) btw seb is not going to be in the grid until 2021 bc you know we need that seat for bella but he will appear so don't worry

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @louvrepool @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg @whoselly @yl90

• — need for speed’s masterlist

HER leg, clad in the red race suit, moved up and down. She bit the inside of her left cheek and played with the sleeve of her shirt. She was in her garage sitting on a bench that she had found, her car surrounded by her mechanics was not far from her.

She looked around her: this was definitely different from Formula Two.

Today was her second race in Formula One and for some reason she was nervous unlike the first one in which she felt nothing but excitement and adrenaline. Yesterday she qualified in fifth place so she had a good chance of winning or at least getting on the podium which was good news but the spaniard couldn't help but self-sabotage and think that she wasn't going to win.

Her anxiety began to take hold in her stomach and she couldn't help but think about her teammate. Last night they had confessed their feelings to each other and between kisses and whispers they fell asleep, which was special for her but when Arabella opened her eyes and quietly slipped out of the room to get ready to go to the circuit, reality crashed into her, giving her a slap all over the face.

Now she was in a relationship? –They hadn’t come to anything since they didn’t had time to talk but let's leave it at that– with her teammate which, according to the small print of their contract, was strictly prohibited so if they were discovered they could be fired in addition to the fact that it would be a scandal, they would call her everything and they would surely believe that it would be a point in favor of why there should be no women in Formula One and she knew that, unfortunately, Charles, just because he was a man, would not come out as badly as her.

She covered her face with her hands trying to block out the light and took in as much air as her lungs would allow before releasing it again. She had to talk to Charles and make things clear, but first she had to forget about that and focus on her career.

She called herself a fool in the four languages she knew. She was supposed to be smart, she had to think things through, know in advance all the possible scenarios that could arise as a result of her actions. She couldn't make mistakes, she was in the spotlight of thousands of people. She was Arabella Torres, the girl who had make it to Formula One at just eighteen years old and who was causing a sensation in the world of sports. She couldn't allow herself to make mistakes, not after everything she had suffered to get to where she was now, not after everything she had said. She couldn't make a fool of herself like that.

She would be a shame to her family, her friends and most of all to the women around the world that she represented. She wanted to make history and change it, she wanted to be the one who made the path easier for others but she couldn't do it if two months after debuting she was caught with her partner's tongue down her throat.

"Fuck," she cursed in a whisper in spanish, removing her hands from her face. Some leather moccasins were present in her field of vision, she looked up, meeting Alexander, her man of the radio, looking at her cautiously.

“You seem worried, are you okay?” The man, who was in his fifties and reminded her of her grandfather, asked.

She shook her head, releasing a sigh that she didn't know she contained. She faked a small smile "I'm a little nervous about starting in fifth position."

“You'll do well, I'm sure” He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a couple of pats as a sign of support “Who knows, maybe you'll win this race.”

"I wish" her smile changed to a real one, winning would definitely make her day better.

The half brit half italian smiled back, tightening his grip on her shoulder before letting go and pointing to his ears. “Don't worry, I'll be with you.”

She smiled tenderly before opening her mouth to answer him but she was interrupted when she heard one of the mechanics say Charles' name, then she heard the others greet him as well. Immediately her leg resumed moving up and down on her spot.

Mierda. Shit.

A couple of minutes later the green-eyed man was walking towards her offering her a smile that she could swear was worth a million euros. She reciprocated timidly and lowered her gaze when he finally reached her side.

For his part, Charles felt that at any moment he was going to throw up butterflies. He took advantage of the fact that she diverted her gaze to the ground to observe her better, the sleeves of her race suit were tied to her waist, leaving her fireproof shirt that hugged her body to view, highlighting her figure, her dark hair was tied in a low ponytail, she was not wearing makeup, leaving seeing circles under her eyes that confirmed that what happened last night hadn’t been a dream and that it had actually happened.

“You left without saying anything” He leaned towards her and whispered so that no one else would hear him.

She felt how her cheeks began to heat up and how the feeling of guilt began to settle in her chest “I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep so I went to my room. I didn't want to wake you up” She lifted her right leg and bent it, drawing it toward her body and then placed her chin on against her knee so she could see him better. She furrowed his eyebrows “Are you angry?”.

He shook his head slightly earning a sigh of relief from her to which he laughed extending his arm to gently caress her back. It was true, he wasn't angry but he would have liked to wake up with her in his arms.

“You start in fifth position, how do you feel?”.

“I think I will get on the podium”.

“Oh, yeah?” He smiled, raising both eyebrows in a mocking tone to which she smiled amused “Do you think you'll beat me? I have the pole”.

She liked talking to Charles, he made her feel calm and helped her escape from her tedious reality. The monegasque, apart from being handsome and a good driver, was also a good person. He was the type of person who looked for a way to make you feel good and comfortable, that he adapted to the person with whom he had a conversation, taking into account what to talk about and what not to talk about. That was one of the things she liked about him.

“Mmmh, you'll see, Leclerc” She wrapped her fingers in the laces of her shoe and nodded, smiling at him mockingly, playing along.

The boy stared at her for a few seconds without saying anything, his gaze traveled quickly from her eyes to her lips and back again before leaning towards her again to speak in a low voice “You don't know how much I want to kiss you right now”.

"Charles!" She reprimanded him in a whisper, placing her hand on the boy's face and pushing his head back. She laughed because she thought it was funny but she tried to hide it "We shouldn't talk about that in public."

He rolled his eyes regretfully “Right.”

An applause was heard, drawing the attention of both, Arabella hurriedly released the monegasque's head when she saw Mattia Binotto approaching them at a quick pace.

“Good morning, guys!” A big smile covered the lips of the man with glasses “I hope you slept well because today we need you to have energy”.

They both shared a look and smiled slightly.

Wow, so sneaky.

“Charles, you are in pole position which is fantastic. I'm proud” He praised the boy who smiled and responded with a thank you. His gaze shifted to the girl, who shrank in her place somewhat nervously "And you, Arabella, are doing so well Fifth position in your second race! Great, simply great”.

“Thank you very much, sir,” She smiled politely. She felt the tension expelling from her body little by little.

He pushed up his left sleeve revealing a watch that looked like it was worth quite a bit of money and looked at it before covering it again "Well, I'm pretty busy today and since I won't be able to talk to you the rest of the day I wanted to wish you both luck” They both let out a thank you again, this time in unison making him laugh “By the way, I know you both want to win but whatever happens we will be happy and proud. See you guys”.

And without further ado he left, leaving them alone again.

“He was acting a little strange, don't you think?” With a frown and looking in the direction where the team principal had disappeared.

“A little, yes” He played it off, taking his phone out of his pocket to look at the time.

It was already eleven thirty in the morning.

“What are you going to do until lunch?” He locked the phone and returned it to his pocket while he mentally reviewed his agenda.

“I have a couple of interviews for a DAZN Spain. What about you?”.

"I don't know yet, I'll look for Emma and ask her" He shrugged and looked around the workshop in case he saw the publicist near her. When he confirmed that the woman wasn’t there, he turned to his team mate “Do you want to eat together?".

"Sure" She agreed before her own publicist approached her. She nodded when she told her that it was time for the interviews and she got up from the red metal bench, looked at the boy and raised her head in dismissal "I'll send you a text when I'm done."

He gave her a thumbs up, smiling at her, and stood up too, ready to go to his part of the garage and find his publicist.

Arabella looked at Elvira, her publicist, trying to look for any sign that she suspected something about the two drivers but the black-haired woman was too absorbed in her phone. She wrinkled her nose looking away from her trying not to be caught staring.

“Well, Albert Fabrega will interview you. It won't be anything out of the ordinary: he'll ask you how the car feels, if you think you'll win, he'll talk about your position in the standings and little else” She finally took her gaze off the phone, taking her index finger to her black-rimmed glasses, pushing them towards her face.

“Okay, and then?” She accepted the bottle of water that a Ferrari assistant offered her, thanked him with a smile when he walked next to her with an umbrella in his hand ready to cover her from the scorching sun.

“You'll talk to the DAZN Spain team for a while and ehm….” She looked again at the electronic device in her hands “There are some rich fans who have access to the paddock, you will take a couple of photos with them and you will sign whatever they want you to sign, then you can go to eat. You will met Charles for lunch, right?”.

“Yes” She began to unscrew the cap of the bottle and then take a good sip. She laughed "Do you know that the other day a girl asked me to sign her boobs?".

"Ew" Elvira made a disgusted face before waving her right hand "I'm so glad I'm not famous sometimes, anyway I think it's good that you go to lunch with Charles, so we can know where you are. I'll make sure Lando stays away from you, I don't want you two to start playing again” She looked at her accusingly over her glasses and she laughed guiltily, knowing she was referring to when she and the McLaren driver got together on Friday, playing tag and by accident they broke a sign.

They spent half an hour apologizing to Red Bull for tearing in half a poster with Pierre's face, who didn’t hesitate to make a dramatic scene about the situation.

But what could they do, after all they were just children.

“I THINK I have a good chance of getting on the podium today, I'm starting fifth so...” She shrugged, giving the camera a toothless smile. Her right hand held the microphone they had given her while her left held her body against the railing that separated the drivers from the press.

The journalist nodded “And what about your rivalry with Hamilton? As you said in Drive to Survive, you will do everything possible to beat him”.

That wasn't in the plan. She bit the inside of her cheek and swayed slightly wrapping her right foot around her left leg. “Yes, I said that but I don't have any rivalry with Hamilton other than, well, the typical one on the track that I have with all the drivers”.

“Don't you know what Hamilton has said about you?” The question left her frozen and for a moment she was worried but quickly composed herself and denied, looking out of the corner of her eye at her publicist and manager, who looked at her just as confused as she was before taking out their phones. The interviewer approached her, handing her his phone; it showed an article from the spanish newspaper Marca which about her and the champion.

She read the headline "Hamilton makes it clear that he is not worried about Torres" and she frowned as she watched the Mercedes driver's words being recited more quietly.

"I don't think she's a rival for me."

“Do you have anything to say about that?” Because she had tucked the microphone under her arm so she could grab the phone, the journalist brought his own microphone closer to her face. She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. "In the Melbourne GP you didn't get close to him, finishing in eighth place when he was second. Do you think you'll beat him today?".

She glanced at Elvira and Nicholas again, who shook their heads but she ignored them. “He can say whatever he wants. I'm not going to say that I'm going to beat him today because no one, much less me, knows what's going to happen today, but if I don't beat him today I know that one day I will. Maybe not today or tomorrow but one day I will and rest assured I will take the title from him.”

A smile was planted on the man's lips when he heard her. “Thank you, Arabella. That's all”.

“Thanks to you” She gave him a small smile that didn’t hide her annoyance and, after extending the microphone to the sound people, she turned around and walked away from there. In a second her publicist, her manager, the assistant with the umbrella and the Netflix team were at her side struggling to keep up with her.

Both adults looked at each other while the poor assistant was sweating profusely trying to hide it from the sun.

“Arabella...” She raised a hand stopping the woman, who with her mouth open looked at the girl's manager.

"I don't want to talk now, Elvira” She growled, heading to her room, ignoring everyone she found in her way. When she got to her room she locked herself in, putting the latch on, slamming the door in the faces of both adults.

The blonde knocked on the door. "Bells, don't lock yourself in. Talk to me”.

She was pissed off, very pissed off. One of her idols had underestimated her in public and she didn't understand why. Lewis seemed to be kind and good, she hadn't had the luck –or, now, misfortune– to talk to him yet but still the champion never failed to give her a smile when their eyes met. Was it all for appearances?.

She clenched her jaw, feeling how the tears of rage and frustration began to accumulate in her eyes, pushing against each other eagerly to slide down her cheeks. She swallowed and let her knees give way, causing her back to slide against the door until she was sitting on the floor.

It wasn't the first time they talked bad about her, it wasn't the first time someone was condescending towards her but damn, when he was one of the people you admire most in the world, it definitely hurt more than anything.

The sound of a notification rang from her pocket, she wanted to ignore it but she knew that it was most likely Charles looking for her to eat. Swallowing her tears, she took the phone out of her pocket and looked at the time, there were less than two hours left until the race, she had to go eat.

A single notification occupied the screen confirming her suspicions upon seeing the Monegasque's name.

She smiled though her smile warped into a pout as she felt a sob run down her throat. She suddenly felt worthless and that she didn't deserve anything that was happening to her. She closed her eyes tightly, smashing the palm of her hand against her mouth, trying to silence the sob. She wasn't going to cry, she didn't want to cry, she couldn't cry. She had to be strong.

“Ma belle?” She heard a knock on the door and then she could hear the boy's shy voice. She shook her head, she didn't want to be seen like that, much less for Charles to see her like that. My beautiful.

She stood up, leaving the phone on the floor and hurried to grab the box of clinex that she had in the television cabinet. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt before walking to the door and bent down to pick up the phone, opening the camera app and looking at herself on the screen. She was more or less presentable.

"Bella, please," she heard him speak again, this time with a pleading tone “Can I come in?".

She took a breath in and out before faking a smile and opening the door, finding Nick, Elvira, and Charles behind it. The three of them were looking at her with concern.

“Well, are we going to eat or what?” She smiled wider before leaving the room and passing between them ready to head to Ferrari's cafeteria.

The three looked at each other and Nicholas let out a sigh, running a hand over his face before looking at the boy dressed in red. "Go to her, she won't want to talk to us."

The driver nodded before starting to run in the direction of the girl. When he was close to her he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her up, making her stop. "Hey, what just happened there?".

"Nothing, I got angry, I calmed down and that's it" Charles frowned in denial when he saw her smile that could be seen for miles that was false, he was beginning to get annoyed with her "everything is fine" attitude.

“I was in my room when you arrived, you were going like the devil was chasing you. I also heard the door slam. Don't lie to me, Arabella” The false smile that was on her lips fell to the ground as soon as she heard him, she looked around them. Some of the staff watched them talk.

She gently released herself from his grasp. “It's not a good idea to talk here, Charles.”

"I don't give a shit," It surprised her because, to be honest, since she knew him she hadn’t seen him like this, much less heard him curse. He continued, "You can't throw a fit, worry everyone, worry me, and then act like nothing happened. That's not how things work, Arabella.”

She looked at him in silence, he was right but she wasn't going to give that to him. She didn't like to talk about her feelings, much less when they were bad ones.

Charles looked at her too, waiting for her to say something, anything. He wanted her to open up to him, to trust him with her feelings like she had done last night, she wanted him to know that he was there for her.

"See you on the podium," She then told him in a serious tone, after she turned around and disappeared.

SITTING in her car she felt like a king although the looks of the mechanics around her made her feel like she was a bomb about to explode. They looked at her, talked and even were cautious around her.

Apparently the word had spread..

She glued her gaze to the halo that surrounded her, the famous phrase "I feel the need, the need for speed" was printed in white letters. She clenched her jaw when she saw the cameras pointed in her direction, she knew that tomorrow people would be talking about her face.

Her tight jaw that highlighted her features and her intense gaze fixed on her halo would be something to talk about the next day. Some would say she looked attractive, other would would criticize her.

Fuck them.

Nicholas approached her with her helmet and the balaclava in her hands. He held them out to her and she took them. She looked at her helmet and with her index finger caressed the black 9 that stood out among the red and white.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw how the six foot man squatted next to her car to get a better look at her. "Good luck, speed. We are with you.”

The smallest smile of hers was present at her nickname and she raised her gloved hand formed into a fist, soon she felt the man's fist collide with hers.

“Arabella, you're out in five!” She heard someone shout and nodded, putting on her balaclava, someone helped her put on her hans and her helmet. She closed her eyes as she quickly crossed herself.

She pursed her lips thinking about her family. It had only been twenty minutes since she had called her mother to talk to them and say her goodbyes, something she always did before a race since she had that accident. She said goodbye to them in case she didn't leave the track alive, her parents weren't happy about it but she needed it, she needed to tell them that she loved them just in case she couldn't tell them again in person.

She watched as Charles' car pulled out of his garage as the lead car passed in front of them. She felt a small sting in her chest, she pressed her lips together knowing well that it was her fault. They hadn't spoken again since their "argument", they hadn't even eaten together like they had talked about in the morning.

She felt bad for pushing him away but she couldn't help it, she was like that despite herself.

Her jaw clenched again when she saw the black and white car pass by. She was going to win or at least get on the podium so she could shut up the Brit. She was willing to make her life in that race hell. She was going to make him fight for first place.

She watched as the flag in front of her lowered and hurriedly stepped on the accelerator to leave the garage. She followed Bottas being followed by Verstappen.

She took a deep breath, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. Well, here we go.

“Arabella?” She heard Alexander's voice on the radio “Can you hear me?”.

"I hear you," she replied without taking her eyes off the end of Valtteri's car.

She swallowed and lowered the visor of her helmet. The silence embraced her completely, the only thing she could hear was her own breathing. And then every red light turned green in a blink.

Lights out and away we go!

She tried to overtake Bottas but the Red Bull driver tried the same with her. She clicked her tongue when she felt the Dutchman's car pull up to hers.

"Get him off or you'll crash." She heard the man in her ears and she opened her eyes obviously, she wanted to respond with a sarcastic comment but knowing that the communication was being recorded she decided to remain silent.

“Copy” she tried to get away from him but in less than a second Verstappen was already next to her again. She cursed under her breath.

It seems that Verstappen is not making it easy for Torres.

“Not today, Max. Not today, damn it”.

“Carlos is trying to pass, take advantage of it and pass Verstappen” she nodded to herself and prepared to accelerate, she watched as Carlos made space to the left of the Red Bull car, causing the three cars to be stuck together, covering the entire road. When on the 33rd she saw that Sainz was trying to pass, she stuck to him, leaving Arabella alone, she pressed the accelerator and drove away from them “Very good, Bella!”.

She quickly passed Bottas. Her eyes fell on the other Mercedes not far from her Ferrari. Her right corner rose and she tilted her chin down decisively.

And Arabella passes Valtteri, thus remaining in P4. Will she get through to Hamilton?

She suddenly began to lose control of her car making her panic “I'm losing control!”

She felt how the car spun around on itself “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

She turned the wheel trying to get the car back on track, praying that neither Verstappen nor Sainz would approach her and take her in front of her.

She wasn't ready to die.

She's losing control! Verstappen approaches her with Grosjean close, that could end very badly.

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and, swerving, managed to turn around and get the vehicle back on track. She sighed, her eyes so wide it seemed like they were going to pop out of it's sockets.

"Arabella, are you okay?!" She heard several voices coming from the radio, she distinguished Alexander's and Mattias's, she also thought she heard Nick in the distance.

"I'm fine," she confirmed and the sea of red polo shirts sighed with relief in the Ferrari garage. "I'm going to overtake Magnussen."

"Copy"

While she was losing control of the car, Hamilton had managed to pass the Haas driver and was now trying to pass the other Ferrari in the lead.

She approached the black and gold car applying a tactic similar to the one the Dutchman had applied with her, approaching from his left on the curve trying to intimidate him.

"Press as much as you can" she heard commotion from Alexander's side and frowned.

"What's happening?."

"It's Charles." Her heart skipped a beat and she immediately thought the worst. Worry filled her body.

"What happened to him? Is he okay?"

"He had a problem and he had to box, he will be out in a second. It's okay, don't worry, you keep going like this and we'll see if we can get you up to p2" he tried to distract her from the topic of her teammate.

"He doesn't get tired," she warned and the man nodded, watching her car from her screen.

"Keep pushing, you're going to pass through the pit exit in no time. Take advantage of the fact that Charles is going out and pass him."

"Okay"

She followed the instructions given to her and continued alongside the Haas car until they passed the pit exit. She calmed down when she saw the other Ferrari approaching to enter the track again.

Between the two red cars they caged the danish and Arabella took the opportunity to overtake. With her right hand she greeted her teammate, earning a return greeting before losing sight of him.

They quickly left the black car behind and were left alone, looking for Lewis.

And the two Ferraris are going wheel to wheel after Leclerc's problem! They are fighting for p2, what a show Ferrari is giving us today! .

She smiled competitively and accelerated trying to overtake her teammate but he also overtook although he couldn't overtake too much because apparently the problem he had had before had taken its toll on the car and it was difficult for him to do the overtake.

"P2 Arabella, you're up on the podium!" She heard the British man's shout and laughed in disbelief. Had the race already finished?.

"Good job, guys," she congratulated those who were listening to her from the garage with a smile on her face. She parked the car in the second space and took a deep breath before getting out.

She heard the screams of the fans in the stands and soon saw a sea of red polo shirts approaching her with screams. She was turned around and she was enveloped in a hug, she immediately knew it was Charles as she felt another hoof rest against hers.

"You've done it!" She heard him say, "I'm very proud of you, ma belle."

She smiled under the helmet before feeling multiple hands touch her back, arms, and helmet.

She raised her visor and saw her staff. Someone helped her take off her hans and she quickly took off her helmet and balaclava. Her hair flew loose, freeing herself from the hair band that fell to the floor when she tore off her balaclava.

The shouts of the tifosi among the stands increased when she saw her face revealed and she once again felt like a king on top of the world.

Her ear-to-ear smile shivered as she watched the winner approach her. She looked at him suspiciously as she raised her hand in front of her body. Lewis gave him a small smile. “Congratulations, you did good.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking down at her hand and accepting it in hers.

[al1fers-haven]

What do you think about Adam and Mammon smitten with a darling sinner?

Maybe she has a contract with mammon so he's close to her but Adam only came to know about her when Charlie pulled her as a perfect example of a redeeming sinner in the meeting in heaven

Imagine getting the attention of both pricks right

This is going to be in headcannons because I wouldn't know how to start this, I hate mammon but ADAM? Anything with him I will gladly do. (Still a wonderful idea though :) )

When Charlie had thrown you up on that big ol orb inside of the council to say Adam was a bit baffled was an understatement

Lute totally had to hit his shoulder to get him to refocus...

you were a sinner who was allowed outside of the ring surprisingly, probably against Lucifer's wishes but you did have a contract with the big clown guy. Who was practically all over you.

you had a close-knit relationship with Mammon, both loving and hating the attention he gave you as his 'little sinner star', treating you more like a prized possession than anything else but it was good enough for you to realize he was probably flirting

He wasn't good at it, constantly belittling you as a pick-up line? It was a bit awful.

you probably work as a clown, or something celebrity-like. Maybe a singer or something?

He works you to the bone, but then he takes you out for dinner at his place and coos down at you like you are a baby.

Adam is definitely a little confused on how someone so pretty is in hell, usually the people he sees that are hellborns are either ugly or not his type but it seems you fit both of those categories.

Now...you were a sinner so he had to be careful IF he was going to see you, but since you are outside of the ring Lucfer has been letting them in, he can't really visit like he wants to.

Totally started gushing about you to lute , she just has to sit there and deal with it.

I don't see you really being able or wanting to date him straight away if ya met...but he would try his best.

Adam is a very simple man, wanting nothing lavish or something like that.

But you were lavish, you lived lavishly, you had people at your beck and call and you did NOT need him like he thought.

You actually insulted him a couple times, he's not a very charming person. (Or smart..)

He slowly started to come around more despite not being allowed to and watched a couple of your shows,

totally grumbles whenever mammon gets all over you, touching ya however he wants? Thats stupid.

totally called himself the dickmeister whenever you denied him the first time.

after awhile though you slowly got used to him and his loud personality, actually letting it calm you.

MAMMON WAS NOT HAPPY. adam and mammon fighting was...awful. Literally awful, they both act kind of similar and even then they can't really fight one another or it'll start a war, so the passive-aggressive comments are enough for now.

Adam took you on a date to somewhere stupid, and it turns out mammon runs a lot of the restaurants within your price range..

Mammon tried keeping you away from the egotistical angel but it wasn't inside of the contract that he could prevent you from seeing people, so he sadly let you go and do whatever.

didn't mean his pampering of you stopped though lol (Im making a part two of this soon if you would like lol,)

[tetsutits]

ᰔ cw — female reader, rindou calls you a‘smart’ & ‘sweet girl’. ummm this is just me projecting lol rip it’s finals szn rn *cries*

“alright,” rindou sighs, “how about arterial depolarization?”

you pause, eyes zeroing in on the flash cards sitting between his veiny fingers. he waits a few seconds for your response, and when you don’t say anything, he tilts his head at you.

“w-wait! don’t say it! i know it,” you wave your arms around, “just gimme a sec,”

your boyfriends eyes find their way back to you, violet and half-lidded. in his hands, he holds over thirty flash cards with definitions and terminologies written all over them.

you huff, crossing your legs and tucking them to your chest, wracking your brain for the definition. at this point, so damn late at night, the words just scramble to gibberish in your brain, information overload at its finest.

“need help?”

“no!”

he smirks, watching the way you stare hard at the carpeted floor you both sit on, a pretty little pout on your lips and your brows furrowed in concentration.

you are too damn cute. even like this, late night study sessions where you think you look the worst, he thinks you’re still the prettiest girl he’s seen.

still, he gives you a few moments to gather up an answer to his question. seeing the gears turn in your head, linking up thoughts and finally, the response hits you.

“oh, oh!” you gasp, springing up to your knees, “it’s the P wave in an ECG,”

rindou hums, signaling you to keep going.

“it’s when the electrical current passes through the heart… and umm, it’s kinda like, basically arterial contraction.”

“okay, and what’s the opposite of that?”

“repolarization. and that’s just relaxing, so…” trail off, searching of a conclusion, “those electric signals kinda just make up the heart pumping mechanism.”

you smile, clapping your hands together in small victory.

he leans back on one hand, nodding his head silently, and you wait for his confirmation to tell you that you’ve either got it wrong or right.

after a few beats of silence, he finally speaks. “what a smart girl,” little smile at his lips, “look at you, baby, i’m so proud of you.”

your breath hitches, freezing all your movements and feeling the heat rise all the way up to your ears. you bite the inside of your cheek upon hearing his validating words.

“see? you’ve got nothing to worry about.” he continues, dropping the flash cards on the floor.

he leans in, crowding your surroundings so he can tuck a flyaway hair behind your ear. his touch sends shivers all over you, making the baby hairs at the back of your neck stand straight.

“my sweet girls gonna ace this final tomorrow,” he whispers near your ear, swallowing up your reaction like a starved man.

you feel your heart beat erratically against your chest, and breath deep before asking, “you think so?”

he smiles, pinching your cheek playfully. “i know so.”

[alwritey-aphrodite]

hey!! your sejanus arranged marriage blurb was so cute!! could you write something in the same AU where it’s reader and Sejanus realizing they really love eachother?

This one is about Sejanus’s realization, but I can definitely write a second part <3

Sejanus could fill pages and pages with everything he loves about you. It’s not a secret that he’s had a crush on you since the day he met you, much like the rest of the boys in your classes, but never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d ever have a chance with you. It makes his heart ache, the fact that he’s benefiting from a situation that neither of you have a choice in. All he can hope is that as time moves on, you might start to feel the same.

Anyone with eyes could see that you’re beautiful, in an intimidating sort of way that always makes Sejanus’s heart beat tick up. You’re the kind of pretty that made Sejanus nervous to even look at you, let alone approach you, even though you’ve never been anything but nice to him. Now, though, you seem to smile and laugh more often, in a way that lights up your eyes and makes you positively radiant.

If it was possible to bottle up a noise, Sejanus would play your laughter on a loop, the freedom of it making him grin, even as you laugh at his expense. The first time he’d made you laugh, a stupid little joke as you sat crying on the steps to your house, he could swear that he’s never been happier, never heard anything sweeter. Your laugh is unrestrained, loud in a way that your parents would disapprove of, but Sejanus goes out of his way just to make you laugh, to see the way your head tips back as if you couldn’t possibly hold in your joy.

His appreciation of you goes beyond the physical, his love so all encompassing, so all consuming that he aches with it. You’re smart, the smartest at the academy by far and Sejanus would bet good money that you’re the smartest person he’s ever met, and he’s rubbed elbows with some of Panem’s elite thanks to his father. Despite being practically a genius, you’re quiet about it, never flaunting your intelligence the way your peers do, but perhaps that’s just another reason why you’re smarter than all of them combined.

The academy kids are cutthroat, often dishing out insults with sickly sweet smiles to conceal the nastiness of their words, but you always see right through it. Sejanus is a frequent target of their little jabs and jokes, and as much as he pretends it doesn’t bother him, the words cut deep. He’d rather just sit there and take it than stir up trouble, but you refuse to listen to him being berated to his face. Your favorite trick is to ask them to explain their jokes, watching with arms crossed as they stutter and stumble over their words before slinking away, and you always send a Sejanus a secret little smile once they're gone.

He’s lucky that with all this time you’re spending together, he’s able to see the sweeter side of you, the side that teases him until he’s blushing and unable to respond as you giggle, a girlish sound that seemed impossible coming out of your mouth at first but now Sejanus swears it’s the most natural sound in the world. He likes being the only one privy to this side of you, likes sharing a secret little world between the two of you.

Now, you’re tired, a bone deep exhaustion from studying for all of your exams, and you’re resting on a little bed of grass, the night air cool against your skin. Your eyes are closed, leaving Sejanus with an opportunity to study you, to watch the way your mouth moves as you talk and to wonder what it would be like to kiss you. He finds himself wondering that quite a lot these days.

Even though your eyes are shut, you reach out for Sejanus’s hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing lightly. It’s all sorts of innocent, and sweet enough to make Sejanus’s stomach hurt, so he squeezes back and watches the way the lines of worry etched into your face seem to smooth out as your chest expands and contracts and your hair rustles with the breeze.

“I could stay here forever, just you and me,” you tell him, voice in a slight whisper as if those words couldn’t be said at full volume. You’d dragged him out of his house after you’d spent the day locked in your room studying, and led him to this little park, nothing more than a handful of trees and some open space but completely empty. It reminds him of home, and instead of answering you, he just squeezes your hand again, watching as a gentle smile takes over your face.

Maybe someday he’ll gather the courage or the brains to articulate just how wonderful you are, because he knows that despite all of your lovely qualities, you think rather lowly of yourself. Really, you deserve much better than Sejanus, and he knows that, but he hopes he can be good enough for you, that he can prove himself worthy of your kindness and affection, as if you don’t give it to him freely since the day you met. Sejanus might be a lot of things, but he’s not fool enough to think someone as perfect as you could ever love him, but he already knows his love for you will never die.

Once again tagging @beybaldes *mwah mwah mwah*