your cunning and your animalist urges are a threat to my life and probably my sanity. i want you to fuck me
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ok let's catch up quickly
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So I've been thinking. It's funny how enjoying meta is somewhat embedded with trust.
Like, if you're "friends" and have followed a person for a long time, you have more a sense of their values, and it's easier to read their difficult meta because you trust more that they're being charitable/nuanced.
If you don't know them, it's harder to trust that they're not funneling difficult topics into rationalization of liking/supporting gross shit.
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every time i listen to ugly death no redemption i go fucking insane about ice the last generation again
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At the crossroads between wondering if it's worth it to basically completely rewrite all my WIPs or just take a break from writing for the rest of the summer
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i know leaving sw is the right thing to do but god i feel so alone now, man.
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my man isn’t creepy! i | f1 grid
growing up leclerc au !
fem! leclerc! reader x f1 grid, leclerc family
part i: carlos sainz, daniel ricciardo, oscar piastri, pierre gasly & kika gomes
synopsis. when the youngest leclerc finds her partners’ ‘shrine’ of her, but she’s a leclerc so the red flags aren’t all that red
WARNING(s); i like em crazy y’all, obsessive/possessive behavior, implied stalking/shrines, unhealthy relationship dynamics, sexual implications but no smut
carlos sainz.
“What is it?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you look up at your boyfriend. The Spaniard melted, muttering a curse to himself and running his hands through his thick hair. He felt hot, nervous for what the outcome of this discussion could be.
“Dios mío, ángel, it’s— it is not what you think— nothing bad. I am just embarrassed is all.” He reassured, big hands gripping at your shoulders. But he knew it was a bit bad, even his enabling family members were worried he’d freak you out if you saw. His movements were made to comfort you, but you could tell they were more self-soothing. Arthur had a similar habit whenever you got upset with him, too.
You only frowned, but it fueled Carlos’ panic.
“Mi amor, I will do whatever you ask-! You know this. I will let you in when it’s cleaned, I swear it.” He pulled you into his chest, arms fully embracing you. But you squirmed out of his hold, making him respond with an unhappy attempt to coo you back into comfort.
“You’re hiding something in there, Carlos. This is the first time I’m staying with you in your home since we started dating, let me see.” And at the sight of your big, beautiful, angry eyes, how could he refuse an Angel? With a twitch of his fingers, Carlos unlocked the door without any movement to push it open.
With a short huff, you pushed yourself through the door, only pausing at seeing at the sheer amount of merchandise that covered every surface. It was all you-themed, from posters and cut-outs, down to a body-pillow and even an outfit you’d only worn once for a runway show. There was a glass shelf with your old perfumes, newer ones too, and photos everywhere.
“Carlos….” You began, covering your mouth with your fingers and stepping further in.
“I know—! But I liked you so much before we started seeing each other and I- I am just a passionate man is all, my whole family says so—!” You cut off his red-faced rambling with a beaming grin.
“Ouah! I didn’t know you were a super fan before we met!” You giggled, mumbling to yourself in French about the various things he’d collected. “maybe you are a bit extreme, but it’s kind of cute, no?”
“¿En serio? Sí, mi perla!” He breathed shakily before grinning, “I should have known you’d understand! Mis hermanas se burlaron de mí, ¿sabes? But it was all silly…” (You’re serious? Yes, my pearl! My sisters teased me, you know?)
“What are you saying? Your sisters… something? I’m still learning, mon chéri.” You pout at him, in a much better mood now that you knew what your boyfriend was hiding behind the door he seemed so desperate to keep you away from.
He shook his head, hair messy after having run his fingers through it many times due to stress, “We should have dinner with them tonight while we’re still in Spain, I said. Let’s go back downstairs?”
“Why? Got anything weird?”
“Don’t say things like that, amor!”
♤ ♤ ♤
daniel ricciardo.
“Danny…?”
“Shit-!” He jumped out of surprise, dropping the box he was reaching from the top shelf of the closet.
“Oh, I’m sorry, mon soleil!” You squeaked, jumping back as well. You hadn’t meant to scare him, but it wasn’t your fault he was so focused in the dead of night. You were just curious is all. The box he dropped was was rectangular in shape, but easily bigger than a shoebox. You shot him a sleepy grin, “What do you have there?”
He sighed, shaking his head, “Why are you up, sleepy girl? Get back to bed, I’ll be right there. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I’m up because you’re up.” You wrinkled your nose, inching closer to him with a small blanket in your arms. You tried to get a glimpse of what fell out of the box, but Daniel wrapped himself around you so you couldn’t see. He wrestled the blanket from your fingers, careful not to be rough with long nails, and threw it over your head with smile.
As you wrestled, your boyfriend only laughed and placed kisses on any part of you he could without being hit by your flying limbs, “Pretty things like you should be asleep. Your brothers would kill me if they knew I disturbed your beauty rest.”
“Are you trying to hide something from me?” You pulled the blanket off your head, hair a mess.
Daniel froze, jaw clenching as he tried to hold a toothy smile. But he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. The moment was completely still, before you finally broke eye contact and crept passed him to see the mess on the floor. You could hear Danny gulp as you plucked the first item from the ground; a pretty, navy blue set of lacy underwear. Yours, yes. But from ages ago, you swore you lost them. Then there were a few pieces of jewelry, a lipstick tube, a silk scrunchie, a press-on nail, a red heel, and two pieces of now-hardened chewing gum. All yours from various points of this past year.
“Daniel,” no, not the first name, he begged internally, squeezing his eyes shut, deciding to just wait for the inevitable disgust and rejection. You never called him by his full first name, only sweet ‘danny’s his way, sometimes ‘mon soleil’ or ‘sunshine’.
“You know you can just ask for my things, yes? You don’t have to take.” You were looking right up at him, navy colored panties still in your hand like you didn’t even mind that he took them. His reasoning couldn’t have been pure, you know that.
You hummed, pulling at his fingers so you can shove the underwear into his balled up fist, “lá.”
“Perfect girl.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and dragging you to bed, “give me the pair you have on then, yeah?”
♤ ♤ ♤
max verstappen.
It wasn’t always like this with you— you used to be just Charles “track terror” Leclerc’s pretty little sister, a little girl. But now it was years later and you’ve become something perfect and irresistible— something he can’t live without. He knows he’d resorted to some immoral, if not a little creepy, behaviors, but it’s not like he’s one of those guys that would ever hurt you. No, you’re a deity to him. He told his sister about his feelings at one point (even thought about showing her the shrine), but she told him— “This is all because you watched You!” The Netflix show that follows a stalker.
So he took down the shrine— moving most of it into his bedside drawer and the rest under his bed. But he realized he didn’t think it all the way through when he had you in his room for the first time; all pretty and perfect and curious.
“Good race, Maxie.” You hopped back onto the bed, your hair bouncing as you landed, “You’re so tense and for what, huh?”
Max had just a little bit of shame about the whole thing, but maybe not too much. I mean, his body definitely felt some kind of physical guilt or something if you’re judging him by the shaking and sweating— but his mind was happy. You were here with him in his home. In fact, the physical reaction might just be from seeing you curled up in his bed. But you’re close to finding out how… intense he was. (As his mother would say.)
“Sorry, lief, I’m just tired and you’re distracting me by being cute.” He smiled down at you as he began to change, “you need a shirt to wear?”
“Yes, s'il te plaît. Hey, can I put my bracelets in here—? oh!” He’d barely turned his back for a second, just long enough to remove his shirt, but that’s all it took for you to pull the drawer open and see the copious amount of photos of you (some edited to have him in them) and unsent love letters.
“It’s not a shrine— I’m not a creep! It’s just some things I made back before we got together—! You weren’t supposed to see them!” He was trying to shove some of the papers back in, but you were already skimming one of the letters.
“Mijn hart,” he winced at seeing the one you had— one of the more unhinged ones. The worst of it was in Dutch, so that worked out for him at least.
“Oh c’mon, Maxie! It’s kind of sweet! You had such a big crush on me! It’s a little hot, even.”
He grew even more red and fidgety at that, “Shit.”
You giggled at the words you could understand before he wrestled the page out of your grip. You grabbed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could stray too far.
“From Max Verstappen-Leclerc, hm?”
♤ ♤ ♤
oscar piastri.
“Can’t I just grab a hoodie, Osc?” You questioned as he held you in place on the counter, from his spot between your legs, still in his race suit.
“You don’t need one, Lovey, it’s hot.” He pressed himself into you so he could feel you breathe better. You’d asked for a jacket the moment you’d entered his freezing trailer just after the race. He saw you go for the closet and quickly redirected you onto the counter.
“Non, you’re hot because you just raced in a little car for hours and now you’re all over me. I am normal temperature.”
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
“Then get closer, I’m hot.”
You huff obnoxiously like the pretty spoiled girl you are and Oscar can feel the rush of serotonin he got just from the sound. He knew this is the part where you’d get cute and pretend to pick a fight, his sweet thing. But bad timing— he’s desperate to hide his secret now.
“I can’t get any closer to you if I trieddd. What? You have a girl hiding in that closet? Hm?” He scoffed into your shoulder, but stiffened, knowing just what was behind that door.
You gasped dramatically, likely playing it up to get what you wanted (a tactic you used with your brothers, Oscar noticed), “You do! Irréelle!”
“I don’t!” His face shot up from your shoulder, brows furrowed, but he didn’t let you go, “You know I don’t like any other girls!”
“Then you need to show me so I can be sure! And I’m still cold.” You crossed your arms and pulled your knees together to get him to back up.
“I can’t.” He choked out. “There’s— it’s just— I have this thing—”
You hopped down and booked it across the trailer before he could reach out and stop you, yanking the door open to see what your new boyfriend was hiding.
You breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief at the sight, “Goodness, Osc.” Rather than finding a person, you instead found some sort of… collection? Collage of yourself and your things? Photos mostly, magazines, and lots of hearts drawn on articles about you.
Oscar grabbed you by the shoulders and quickly spun you around into him, slamming the door, “You saw?”
Looking up at him with big eyes, you nodded, “Yeah, why? You really like me that much?”
“What? Yes— yeah I do. You—? Okay.”
♤ ♤ ♤
pierre gasly. | kika gomes.
“I’m prepared to blame you for this if Charles finds it.” Pierre breathed, looking at the start of his girlfriend’s collection of your things. Kika scoffed, a smile playing at her lips as she re-organizes your makeup. Mostly lip balms, you’d let her borrow some of your things, not knowing she wasn’t going to give any of it back. Kika even managed to get a few skirts from you as well. The small framed photo of you sitting in her vanity was just a personal touch.
Pierre would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed, but he could say he wasn’t surprised. He and Kika were a good couple, a good duo in general, but especially when it came to drawing you in. Because Pierre was such a good friend to Charles, it came pretty easy; Charles was easier on him around you. Unfortunately, that grace didn’t extend to Kika just because they were dating. Charles had something of a sixth sense for when pretty girls liked his pretty sister; so he was on to Kika. Where at the beginning it was nothing to get you alone with them, it was now next to impossible.
“Pierre? Kika? Are you home?” Wow it’s like they could hear your pretty voice— oh wait they gave you a key. To their apartment. In Monaco, where you live and you can really just waltz in and see all of the things they took (—yes they, Pierre is a thief too—)
Like two naughty school children, the couple shot up to cover what they’d done before you could reach their bedroom. This was their fault naturally, none of yours at all, they were the ones who encouraged you to come over whenever physically possible.
“Grab everything and I’ll distract her!” Kika whispered, rushing to slip out of the room.
Before the ‘not fair-’ could slip from his lips, his girlfriend was off to catch you, brushing passed him and leaving the door cracked. He could hear your surprised greeting, a cute squeak escaping you, before Kika saying something like ‘Oh, Pierre is busy now’, then silence. Pulling the handle back just an inch, he peaked outside to see Kika’s lips not even a centimeter from your own, her hands gripping your jacket for dear life.
“Oh, pretty girls, ce n'est tout simplement pas juste.” Slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Your eyes shot to his, but Kika’s remained trained on your face. After just a second, your gaze drifted to Kika’s vanity behind him.
The couple froze, you saw. Pierre pulled the door shut behind him as Kika’s mouth opened to form words.
“Oi! Get your hands off my little sister, huh? Démon impoli et pratique, seriously.” Charles slipped into the living room from the front hallway, having obviously accompanied his little sister in her visit.
“Non, Charlie, Kika helped me when I almost tripped.” You smiled at your brother, quickly covering for them, “I was just coming to see if I could get my jean skirt back?”
You looked up at her so sweet and she thinks you’re blushing—“Oh.” She squeaked, “yes, no problem. Pierre.”
“I’ll get it for her, mate.”
“surveille ta copine. je ne suis pas aveugle, mate.”
♤ ♤ ♤
Your man (s girlfriend) is definitely creepy, girl.
note; I made kika and pierres a lil longer bc they’re two ppl so yeah ft charles
thinking part ii with lando, mick (ft the schumachers), lewis, lance, alex & lily, george and carmen?
- ren
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Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.
But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.
So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)
And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"
Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.
Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.
The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.
Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.
By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."
Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve
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Dp x Dc AU: Dani has a too many break-ups for Danny’s heart to handle as an older brother- So he gives her a criteria that her next boyfriend needs to fit for Danny to approve of their relationship.
Dani was really excited about her new boyfriend. He was witty, and charming, knew how to sword fight and was absolutely stunning. He loved his family, was passionate about animals and social justice causes, and he was an artist! She had a thing for green eyes, and hey, he was actually super chill about them having flexible schedules to see each other (she had vigilante shit to do that she couldn’t explain)! It’s been going on for a few months and she’s honestly ready for him to meet Danny & Jazz but...
The last time she was home it was for a broken heart and Danny was beside himself with worry over her. He made the guys recently deceased ancestors come forward to speak on his behalf and it was Mortifying- Danny was ready to throw down. And Dani had to admit, it was super sweet that her big brother cared so much. He’d happily given a shovel talk to each of her partners when she brought them home and he’d happily tried to bond with them and integrate into their lives. Danny always allowed her to make mistakes but respected her choices to only ever ask two questions when a new partner came into the picture: Do they make you happy? Do they treat you well?
This last time he made a simple request, just could they please fit this one criteria?
The thought comes to her unfortunately when she’s making out with her perfect match, her soul mate, this beautifully stabby man Damian Wayne, that she should bring up the deal breaker. Her brother gave her literally one request for her next partner, and by the ancients she didn’t want to disappoint Danny.
Pulling away from her boyfriends kiss for just a moment, Dani quickly asks “Sorry, Sorry, it’s just...Have you ever died before?”
Damian’s look of confusion and then concern grew on his normally collected face, which told her more than enough.
“Okay great!” And she leaned back in, only to realize that he’s pulled back.
“Would... Would you care to explain why you just asked me that?” Damian was doing his best to not jump to conclusions.
“Sorry, I just got in my head a bit about how you’re like, the light of my life and I want you to meet my family and then my brain wandered, before you did that thing with your teeth, to the fact that my brother kind of requested... um, well, he just asked that my next partner be, uh, don’t freak out if this sounds weird, but uh, be dead.”
“He...He wants your partner to be dead.”
“Well, Dead adjacent is perfectly normal in my family! It’s not like a whole thing! You’ve died before, so he’ll absolutely love you! And he’ll love you even more because you love me!” She smiles as brilliantly as the stars.
Damian isn’t sure for a second, but eventually asks: “Your family is ‘dead adjacent’ and you want me to meet them?” to which she happily confirms.
“Do you... Wish to know how I-” Damian begins but she cuts him off “No! Never, I would never ask that of you. He won’t ask either! He actually has a better vision for these things so it probably won’t even come up! How does next Tuesday work?”
“That should be fine, however, well...On the subject of family expectations ... Is it even possible that you might be a vigilante?” Damian’s worries melt away when his girlfriend smiles and lunges forward to kiss him.
Families could have such weird expectations, you know?
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✧ "MY KIND OF WOMAN"
☆ summary ↺: finding out that your crush, chuuya nakahara's type is the complete opposite of you, his close friend.
☆ content ↺: small oneshot, fluff, highschool au, other mentions of bsd chars (+gin, tachihara, hirotsu & dazai)
☆ song ↺: my kind of woman by mac demarco <3
☆ w/c ↺: 2k
sometimes, you felt unsure of yourself.
your parents and the people around you assured that there will be someone—no, plenty of people that would love you and your personality. you were rowdy, energetic and outspoken. very honestly yelling about cringe phrases in public. loved ones around you such as friends, would often shush you or swear you're going to be the death of them.
no—you weren't really weird, just humourous, mischevious and cheeky. yes, sometimes, it affected your love life. nonetheless, the people in your life always said there is someone out there who wants someone exactly like you. you are the ideal in someone's heart.
it made you wonder if others accepted their partner's flaws because they love them, or love your significant other for their flaws.
"man, i don't know."
your eyes roll at the guy beside you, sweating in his basketball uniform and adjusting his sports headband as you two sat at the foot of the bleachers. "very helpful, chuuya."
he was wearing red.
his uniform was red, his hair a colour of copper—but in sunlight he could be mistaken for ginger. and he had this look in his eyes, a look you can't but admire. it was full of passion, but he always suppressed his emotions. chuuya never expressed his emotions well.
and that's how chuuya nakahara was, a complete idiot. you were talked your ear off back then by him geeking out over a girl he likes but can't seem to express it well. though you get teased by him for keeping your head deep in the books when it comes to romance, you found yourself comforting him at 3am when he can't get his mind off another girl, who probably broke his heart.
that was the past when you were both new to highschool, of course he wanted a girlfriend. which was especially difficult since he was best friends with the basketcase of the school—dazai osamu. well, even he had girls liking him, which was surprising since he's not exactly friends with this thing called deodorant.
"well, why would you see flaws in somebody you love and think it's something to be changed?" the boy inquires, chugging his waterbottle. "when you don't love them, flaws shouldn't matter, and when you do love them, their flaws should be part of the reason you do."
cute, you thought.
"that's how it should be!" — you pause, waving your hands all over the place trying to express yourself, "but not everyone thinks like that, y'know?"
he chuckles, "well, unlucky for you, some people's flaws can be unbearable." you shoot a glare at your friend, "the hell is 'unlucky for you' supposed to mean?"
chuuya snickers, "nothing." he looks up at the gym's ceiling, eyebrows scrunching when he sees the numerous dodgeballs stuck up there. how did that get up there? he thinks for a second. you wrinkle your nose in distaste, "—asshole." he quickly averts his gaze from the ceiling, to your scrunched up face.
"hey!"
after settling down from trying to flick each other's foreheads for an extended period of time, you squish your cheek onto your palm. "since we were on the topic of relationships, what is your type in a girl?" you ask casually, the usual hustle and bustle of basketball boys and their friends watching screaming in the gym. "my type in a girl?.."
he thinks for a second, finger tapping on his chin.
"i like elegant girls, girls who are super classy." he smirks, closing his eyes with confidence in his answer.
your eyes widen a bit,
—you were nothing like any of those things.
"well, my type is tall guys." you quickly retort, the redhead almost pouts, before refraining it to a scoff.
"chuuya, we need you on the court, man!" a firm call back runs from one of his teammates, "oh shit," the redhead quickly gets up, setting his waterbottle.
"see ya later, idiot." his lips curve up in a slight smile, ruffling your hair gently before returning to court.
this day sucked already.
"i've been good today.. i burnt 15 ants instead of the usual 30."
chuuya felt is eye twitch, standing near the incinerator with his childhood friend, dazai osamu. "i really fuckin' wish we weren't neighbours."
he remembers back then when his mother would tell the boy to play with his neighbour, dazai. unfortunately, he managed to stick with him forever and ever.
the brunette ruffles his wavy brown hair, crouching down to fiddle with a few new ants. "so what's new, midget?" chuuya almost swears he throws his lit lighter onto the kid right there, before scoffing, "don't call me that, bastard." the bandaged student looks at him blankly, as if he knew the redhead was bothered.
chuuya sighs, "okay, well, [y/n]'s been kinda off lately, and she won't tell me why."
dazai sighs, letting go of the ant he's been holding. "what did you do this time? if a woman is acting off, it's 100% your fault." the ginger scoffs in response, "well, our last conversation was at the bleachers. she asked me what my type was and i responded with elegant and classy girls, and she hasn't been the same since. she even said after her type was tall guys!"
the brunette smirks again, snickering devilshly for a good hot minute. "what the hell? cut it out, man. you're scarin' me!" chuuya protests, before dazai asks him:"you told [y/n] that you like elegant girls, and you have a crush on her?"
the redhead pauses and thinks about that statement for a while, "yeah, what's wrong with that?" he tilts his head in confusion. "you're so inconsiderate, chuuya." dazai hums, "[y/n]'s the polar opposite of elegant and classy."
it suddenly hits chuuya like a brick — but he still rummages to work against that statement.
"dude, you're wrong! she's got a super classy smile, and really elegant hands. even the way she moves is elegant. and—" dazai shoves a bandaged hand in his face, "please, i don't wanna hear it."
"if you want her to actually like you back, tell her that she's your type, and whatever you just said right now." dazai gets up, patting the dirt off his ass. "or, be like me, and invite her to a double suicide date."
chuuya closes his eyes in disdain, "kill yourself." the teenager smirks, "you don't have to tell me twice, slug."
"you don't understaaannndddd!!" you whine, playing the flute despondently at band practice. the girl beside you purses her lips, before writing in her pocket notebook — it's just his type. and i think you're elegant in your own way.
you pout at reading that, before sluggishly getting up. "thanks, gin..." you thank, before another redhead flashily enters band practice. "sorry for being late, mr. hirotsu, somethin' came up." your band teacher nods, before tachihara, an outspoken second year, strides up to you and gin.
"what's up with her?" the boy asks, before sitting down and fiddling with his trumphet. gin writes down — [y/n] found out chuuya's type was the complete opposite of her. tachihara looks for a moment, before laughing: "pfft.."
gin, a super pretty but androgynous second year then tells him to shut up by smacking his shoulder, earning a yelp from tachihara. "eek! well, listen, that guy is total shit anyway.. besides his super cool motorcycle, and killer smile, and his super cool motorcycle.. damn, wish i could get somethin' like that."
"shut up, tachihara." you mumble, as he scoffs dramatically, adjusting the bandage on his nose. "shouldn't you just continue talking to him? him having a type doesn't mean he doesn't like you." the redhead reasons, before reading the sheet music. "yeah but, now i think of all the girls he used to like.. and i'm nothing like them." you frown, slumping again onto the desk.
"y'know what they say.. the past is past, like how i thought gin was a boy." tachihara shrugs, frowning when he sees the middle finger she shoots at him, "i'm telling your brother you did that to me." he quips, before gin clears her throat, her silky raven hair tied back in a ponytail. "he'll beat your sorry ass." she says in the girliest voice possible.
tachihara yelps before your band teacher, mr. hirotsu reprimands you three for slacking off, frowning as you guys apologize, tachihara whispers: "point is, just talk to him." the boy says, as gin nods. "—unless you told him that you liked tall guys after, that would send him into cardiac arrest." he concluded, you gulped in slight guilt.
gin whispered in a gentle tone, "did you actually?.." you don't respond and frown even more.
"damn, you suck." tachihara finishes, yelping as the teacher yells at him again. "sorry, sir!"
it was another day, well, end of the day.
most students already went home, but you decided to stay at school to study for a bit. unbeknownst to your knowledge, it was raining heavily, and luckily for you, you had no umbrella. you sigh, jamming your earbuds in before walking out of the roof you covered yourself in.
except, upon your first step outside, you still felt no rain.
then, you saw chuuya's umbrella covering you. "hm?" you turn to him, surprised. "hey, you shouldn't get sick before my game, idiot." he chuckles as you two walked in the rain, under the same umbrella. "no way!" you smile.
an awkward silence came over you two. "uhm, about the other day," the boy starts off as you immediately flush — of course he noticed that you were upset. "hey! it's nothing serious, i—" chuuya shushes you by successfully flicking your head. you yelp, "ow.." rubbing your forehead. the boy swallows thickly, "i wanted to correct myself, actually."
raindrops. they moved at a steady pace, falling onto his black umbrella above you two, onto the pavement, and onto the cars passing by. you looked over at chuuya, who never followed dress-code, who had his button-up and tie neatly ironed. he strangely followed the dress-code perfectly today. "elegant and classy's not my type, actually."
you pause, thinking for a second. "then what is?"
"good question, actually." chuuya quips, adjusting his tie. he was completely confident when speaking, but you couldn't help but stare at the nervous quivering of his slender hands. "y'know that question you asked about flaws? it made me think that somewhere out there, every person is who someone has been exactly looking for. everyone in the world is someone's ideal type." he explained, inhaling sharply.
"—and i, uh," chuuya's words strained his throat, his cheeks are blazing and he has an odd coordination when walking. "you're my— ugh,"
cute, you thought, before internally slapping yourself.
"you're my kind of, mm, seriously?" the redhead stutters, rubbing two fingers against his temple, exhaling sharply. "you're my kind of girl, and—"
you felt a raindrop hit your cheek, it was cold and quick. but this feeling, it was slow and cherishing. warm, like a sunny day in a field of flowers, or another resting day of keeping your head in the books. after moping around for days, maybe tachihara was right. the whole ordeal was stupid, just like chuuya.
"—i like you too." you cut him off.
chuuya almost drops his umbrella in shock, as an abundance of rain water splashes onto you two. "shit!" he curses, feeling shitty for ruining the moment, but you laugh, extending out your hand to his, smiling brightly.
his lips curve into a smile, "okay, maybe this isn't that bad." chuuya quips, intertwining your fingers into his, before pressing a gentle kiss to the spot on your forehead he flicked earlier.
today, it felt like running through a field of flowers on a sunny day, even though it was raining and you got sick the next day. but it only felt that way because you had him next to you the entire time.
—in truth, he was your type too, and no, tall men were never your type.
✧ chocsra™
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admits he hides his eyes during scary movies and that 'there might be some screams'
'I'm a big baby about cold water'
I cannot find it now but he said the drivers room was somewhere you could cry if need be
sings to himself during races to stay calm
bases his entire music taste around femininity one way or another: first with Lily (house music) and then Lando (Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, general power girl pop)
favorite show for a while was Sex Education
'my hands are too small!' I just love that he doesn't buy into idiotic male insecurities
he's competitive over competition's sake but not competitive with other men for show or for appearances
despite prolific twitter usage, not a single instance found of even mild or unconscious sexism
totally unapologetically proved he knows what 'bottoming' is in a non-F1 sense not just once but twice
along w Lando, casual and consistent usage of neutral pronouns when not discussing specific partners/people
best interviews are always with Laura Winter
zero chemistry or connection with D*x Sh*pard
does not view his girlfriend as a possession or status accessory to his life
doesn't pose with Lily with his hand on her ass (I might actually say he's the only pro male athlete I know of who's never done this w their partner)
happily a pushover for Lando off the track bc Lando has hyper specific wants/needs where Oscar is super flexible so why not customize things more toward Lando?
despite natural competitiveness and single-minded desire to win that all drivers have, can shake off any disappointments from team orders or Lando getting a podium and not him and be genuinely happy/proud of Lando bc he respects Lando and also why stew on things he can't change?
no idea if he's even aware of this but where he decidedly will not do creepy pseudo "gentlesir" shit with Lily (ie treating her as helpless or in need of his aid to exist in the world) his natural desire for acts of service finds an outlet in doing things for Lando and anticipating Lando's needs (bc no history of social creepiness associated with men doing that for other men)
doesn't care that other people find his long nails weird, he likes having them and cuts them only when they get too long
idk I don't have a heading for all this I just feel like it all ties into things that make Oscar so lovable
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rodrick headcannons cuz i can
Warnings: mentions of drugs
Poor dude, he can’t handle spicy stuff
^Like, cayenne, paprika, and ‘franks red hot’ is the only shit he can handle.
Eats popcorn with so much butter it could kill you.
^Also, with pepper(please try it its so good)
Thinks manny’s weird
Dyslexic but we all knew that.
Will ask to borrow your eyeliner.
Random ass make-outs
^Will literally pull you into a closet just to give you a hickey and shove his tongue down your throat
Actually very respectful
Yall share earbuds cuz he forgets his
^If you have airpods, you sneak them into class and listen together.
Tries to write you a song.
Random dates
^You go to a gas station or some shit and raid the place
^One time he accidentally bought CBD oil honey sticks(they sell them where i'm from) and yall got high af
Little spoon
His favourite way to cuddle is when you lay on your side and hold his head/face into the crook of your neck
^Oh my god, the neck kisses
Dog person
Golden retriever boyfriend lookin ass
He will follow you around like a lost puppy. It's so cute.
Sucks ASS at guitar hero
Study dates
^He hates them and tries to make-out instead (valid)
He’s so soft and gentle with you
^One time he thought you were greg (you poked the small of his back) and he turned around and bitch slapped you.
He saw you tearing up and he bent down and cupped you face gently (think trying not to break a family heirloom??) and he cried rather than you
There's this spot on the small of his back that is really sensitive and if you poke it he jumps and whirls around and its super cute.
He started showering a lot more when you started dating.
His family likes you
^Frank never thought Rodrick would ever get a partner
He can actually sing but its more of the scratchy emo voice, not the smooth/clean high pitched justin beiber voice.
Do his eyeliner for him
^Do it I dare you
I beg you, run your hands/fingers through his hair.
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i read your tom kaulitz weird and silly headcanons and i can't stop laughing 😭 wtf it's 4 am.. anyway will you do the same headcanons only with bill, pretty please?🤭 i know one hundred percent that this little bastard isn't so innocent what he looks like.. i'm sure he's as dirty as Tom 😭 btw sorry engilsh is not my first language ☠️ Greetings from Poland!!:)
(his skirt is so cute?!?)
Cześć jeszcze raz! Rzadko spotykam Polaków, więc cieszy mnie możliwość ćwiczenia języka polskiego!
also his skirt is super cute omg
silly and weird bill headcanons
cw: mentioned oral(f and m!recieving), making out, nipple play?, etc
-you are completely right, this mf is far from innocent 💀 tom is seen as the dirty minded one but this little shit would make the most dirty fucking jokes every and then act all innocent LIKE BITCH
-he's also passive aggressive. like very passive aggressive. pookie can't help it 😪
-the first time you, him and tom all got high together he got super paranoid and thought that you guys were all just figments of a dog's imagination
-when you guys are spooning, he reaches underneath your shirt and cups your boobs. it helps him fall asleep quicker apparently
-but sometimes when he's feeling like a little shit, he'll tweak and pull at your nipples and you have to slap him away. so then you make him promise not to do it again. spoiler alert. he does it again 😐
-hes an impatient mf so the amount he's burned his tongue after heating up a pop tart 😒 like bitch..just wait the two fucking minutes
-he loves kissing your temple and your forehead
-during the winter, if his hands are cold he asks if he can put his hand in your pants. 💀 like that's his exact words. "Can I put my hand down your pants?" he says it's because you're warmer down there than he is, but I think it's just cuz he's a dirty minded little fuck
-when cooking marshmallows over the fire, it's a 50/50 thing. Sometimes he's super patient and will wait and make his marshmallows a crispy, perfect golden brown color and other times he gets to lazy and will just shove it in the fire.
-he also thinks it's like the coolest thing in the entire world when his whole marshmallow is on fire
-he didn't know how to snap until he was like 16 and always got mad whenever tom could do it 😭
-he was super happy when he realized that he was the taller twin bc tom was allllwayyss talking about how he was 10 minutes older.
-YOU GUYS GOT MATCHING TATTOOS
-he literally loves getting matching tattoos with you, he thinks it's so cute and fucking loves it. somehow he convinced the both of you to get some dumb ones 💀
-when you two were little kids he used to beg the teacher to make you, him and tom partners. lil bro would get down on his knees
-speaking of getting down on his knees, the first time he went down on you he "accidentally" 🤨 bit your clit. I still say he did it on purpose though
-you guys know that thing that Gomez does with Morticia when she reaches her arms to the side and he kisses from her finger tips to the other finger tips? yall know what I'm talking about? WELL BILL DOES THAT
-he likes to sleep naked sometimes. because it's "better for sleeping" but I think it's just because he wants to sleep next to naked you.
-almost drowned tom at the pool 💀...multiple times
-him and tom make you sit by the pool and then make you tell them who's cannon ball was better. and this isn't just a like 16 yr old boy thing. they do this at 33 too.
-bill once stood up upside-down on a keg and drank it 😧. not the whole thing but it was super crazy. you later found out it was because tom didn't think he would do it
-he once jerked off in class and found a way so nobody would notice him EXCEPT YOU 😨 MF YOU WERE TRAUMATIZED
-he also doesn't know how to lock a door. so you'll just walk in and he'll be jerking off, or you'll turn a corner in his house and he'll be jerking off, you go to use the bathroom and he'll be jerking off. "I'm a teenage boy it's what we do!" BRUH GET A HOBBY
-if you don't know german, he'll randomly say dirty stuff to you in german. BUT THEN PROCEED TO GET MAD AT TOM IF HE TEACHES YOU BAD WORDS IN GERMAN 🙄
-he loves sitting in your lap when making out. like obviously he loves it when you sit in his lap, but he LOVES when he gets to sit on top of you and kiss you
-the first time he tried to give you hickies, he wasn't completely sure how to and ended up biting you 💀
-he's not a morning person, we all know this. so if you want to get him out of bed, you will have to drag him out by his feet.
-his dick is big. we all know this, but the first time you tried to give him oral, he accidentally slapped your face w/ his dick 😭
ANYWAYYSSS TY SM FOR THE REQUEST POOKIE I HOPE MY POLNISCH WASNT TOO BAD
taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles
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Hi hi I know this is a random request but I just watched smile and I was terrified so I was wondering if you could do like a wandanat x reader where the reader watches a scary movie on their own coz they was bored and wandanat were working and reader gets super scared and runs to them and they just laugh at her because she is so scared but explain it’s just a movie then they watch the movie with her instead and it leads to ya know lol
Sorry if this is a weird request ignore it if it is sorry :)
Comfort. | WandaNat
Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Threesome, fingering, slight begging
Word Count: 1,1k
A/N: Again something Cuteeee. When I wrote it, my Tv suddenly turned off and it scared the shit out of me (it was midnight when I wrote it) That’s a sign..
The rain pattered gently against the windows of the cozy apartment, a soothing backdrop to the evening’s activities. Natasha and Wanda were both deeply engrossed in their work, papers and laptops spread across the dining table. Their focus was intense, each woman lost in the tasks at hand.
In the living room, you curled up on the couch with a blanket, deciding to pass the time with a horror movie. The movie was one you had seen recommended, but the eerie soundtrack and sudden jump scares quickly proved to be more unsettling than you had anticipated. With each creak and shadow on the screen, your anxiety grew, until a particularly terrifying scene caused you to yelp and scramble off the couch.
Heart pounding, you bolted from the living room, seeking the comfort of your partners. Natasha and Wanda looked up in surprise as you burst into the room, your wide eyes and trembling hands betraying your fear.
“What’s wrong?” Natasha asked, her voice laced with concern. You hesitated, feeling a bit silly for your reaction. “I..was watching a horror movie, and it just…it really scared me. I wanted to see you both.“
Natasha and Wanda exchanged amused glances. Wanda couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, you got scared by a movie?”
You nodded, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Yeah… I know it’s just a movie, but..” Natasha chuckled, standing up and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s take a break, shall we?”
Together, they guided you back to the living room. Natasha grabbed the remote and paused the movie, examining the screen with a raised eyebrow. “This is the culprit, huh?”
You nodded again, feeling more embarrassed by the second. “Yeah.” Wanda sat down on the couch, patting the space beside her. “Come here. We’ll watch it together.”
Natasha settled on your other side, sandwiching you between them. With a teasing grin, Natasha pressed play. The movie resumed, and Natasha and Wanda’s amused expressions helped to ease your nerves.
As the movie played on, Natasha made playful comments about the unrealistic plot points, exaggerating her reactions to the scares. “Really? Who runs into the basement?” she quipped, making you giggle.
Wanda, meanwhile, conjured a small red glow in her hand, creating comforting patterns in the air to distract you from the scarier scenes. “Remember, it’s all just special effects,” she said, smiling.
Your fear gradually ebbed away, replaced by a sense of security and warmth. Natasha’s arm around you and Wanda’s playful magic made it easier to endure the scary scenes.
When the movie reached a particularly steamy scene, you felt yourself blush deeply. You glanced at Natasha and Wanda, expecting them to fast-forward, but Natasha simply raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “Well, this movie just got interesting.” Natasha murmured, her voice low and teasing.
Wanda giggled, her fingers tracing light patterns on your arm. “Looks like we chose quite the film, didn’t we?” You felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement, your heart racing for a different reason now. Natasha’s hand began to move slowly, her fingers brushing lightly against your thigh, while Wanda leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. “Feeling better now?” Wanda whispered, her voice sultry. You nodded, your breath hitching. “Y-yes, much better..”
Natasha’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she leaned in to kiss you softly, her touch both tender and possessive. Wanda’s hand joined in, caressing your other thigh, their combined warmth making you feel cherished and desired.
As the movie continued in the background, forgotten for the moment, Natasha and Wanda exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with affection and a hint of mischief. Natasha’s hand slid up your thigh, her touch light and teasing. “You know,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear, “we could make this evening even more interesting.”
Wanda’s hand mirrored Natasha’s movements, her fingers trailing up your other thigh. “I think that’s a wonderful idea..“ she murmured, her voice low and inviting.
Your breath quickened, your body responding to the gentle, teasing touches. “What do you have in mind..?” you asked, your voice trembling with anticipation.
Natasha’s smile widened as she leaned in to kiss you deeply, her hand sliding under the hem of your shirt. “Just relax and let us take care of you. Let you forget the creepy scenes.” she whispered against your lips.
Wanda’s lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, her kisses soft and tantalizing. “We want to make you feel good.” she breathed, her hands roaming over your body.
Natasha’s hands moved with expert precision, peeling away your clothes with a mix of tenderness and urgency. Wanda’s touch was equally skilled, her fingers dancing across your skin, igniting a trail of warmth and desire.
As Natasha’s lips traveled down your body, her kisses growing more intense, Wanda’s hands continued their exploration, each touch sending shivers of pleasure through you. Natasha’s tongue flicked out to taste your skin, her movements deliberate and sensual.
Wanda’s fingers found their way between your thighs, her touch light and teasing. “You’re so beautiful..” she whispered, her voice filled with admiration and desire. Your breath hitched, your body arching towards Wanda’s touch. “Please..” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Natasha’s eyes met Wanda’s, a silent exchange of affection and understanding passing between them. With a nod, Wanda’s fingers moved with more purpose, finding your most sensitive spot. Natasha’s lips and tongue followed suit, their combined efforts sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.
The intensity of their touch increased, each caress, kiss, and stroke designed to bring you closer to the edge. Natasha’s mouth worked in perfect harmony with Wanda’s fingers, their movements synchronized and relentless.
Your moans filled the room, your body trembling with the overwhelming sensations. “I’m so c-close..” you gasped, your fingers gripping the couch cushions.
Natasha’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she increased the pressure of her tongue, while Wanda’s fingers moved faster, their rhythm perfect. “Let go,” Natasha urged, her voice husky and commanding. “Let us take you there.”
With a final, shuddering breath, your body tensed, and you cried out in ecstasy. The climax washed over you in powerful waves, leaving you breathless and spent. Natasha and Wanda held you tightly, their touches gentle and reassuring as they guided you through the aftermath of your release.
As your breathing steadied, Natasha pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “You did so well, Detka..” she murmured, her voice filled with love and pride.
Wanda smiled, her eyes glowing with affection. “We love you so much.” You nestled between them, feeling more loved and cherished than ever before. “I love you both..” you whispered, your heart full.
The three of you stayed intertwined, the movie long forgotten, the rain outside continuing to fall softly against the windows.
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