#Cecilia Proud

[jazzymarie1006]

These three Prouds & their gorgeous hair

[sewerwclf]

saw universe doctor hiring requirements: be cunty and medical malpractice.

[anarkittyy]

Cecilia Gentili 🕊️🕊️

[brynnamonroll]

Cecilia’s Darkest Hour

I had an idea a while ago combining the composition of Georges de la Tour’s Magdalene with the Smoking Flame with Cecilia before Chapter 13 of FE6 when Zephiel’s armies are approaching

[toon-tales]

I know i said this before but I'll say it again

I ship them SO MUCH

They're just a tiny Pelix LOOK AT THEM

(not as kids, maybe when they're older)

[sidesteppostinghours]

nice

[runefactorynonsense]

Spooktober - Day 9 - Crystals

These aren't cursed, are they...? No, darling, their magic is much more interesting.

[yxlenas]

With Your Fist (For Once): An Edancy Fic by Reysrose

"Who acts from love is greater than who acts from fear" ~ Talmud, Sota or, how Nancy came to live with Eddie and Wayne

Religious trauma, Ted being an asshole, and an ER visit from three perspectives.

Listen to the inspiration here

[hilarybanks]

Lemonade, Folklore, TUN

lemonade

don't hurt yourself (song of all time)

love drought

sorry

formation

pray you catch me

all night

hold up

6 inch

daddy lessons

sandcastles

freedom

forward

folklore

my tears ricochet

hoax

peace

this is me trying

the 1

cardigan

august

epiphany

the lakes

exile

seven

mirrorball

invisble string

mad woman

betty

illicit affairs

the last great american dynasty

thank u next

7 rings (song of all time)

bad idea (GOAT)

in my head

nasa

imagine

make up

bloodline

ghostin

thank u next

fake smile

break up w ur gf i'm bored

needy

send me an album and i’ll put the tracks in order from most → least favourite

[heartplaces]

a bloody good time! 🩸

[jazzymarie1006]

I've just thought of this!

We've seen Kareem interact with the Proud Family.

Oscar's interrupted him and Penny a couple of times as well.

And that had me thinking....

What are Kareem's parents like?

What we know about the father is that he named him after Kareem Abdul-Jabbar because he's his favorite author.

I also noticed the few times Kareem and Oscar interacted in Season 1, he calls him "Sir". Does he often call his own father Sir?

Another thing we know about Kareem's parents is that they're quite strict. Going as far as to put a tracker on his phone.

And this face when Penny suggests that he deals with his parents the way she deals with hers (ignoring them), this face says it ALL!

I would really like to see Penny meeting Kareem's parents and seeing what they think of her.

Would they like her? Would they see her as a bad influence? I don't know! But I wanna know!

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

ENJOY THE SILENCE

Lazy mornings with honkai and genshin boys (fem!reader x Diluc, fem!reader x Dan Heng) a bit suggestive in Dan Heng's part GENERAL MASTERLIST

DILUC

Your lover, Diluc Ragnvindr was without a doubt hardworking and responsible man. Running biggest winery in the industry, protecting Mondstadt at nights and still working full-time job as a bartender, he gave you plenty reasons to be proud of him. Unfortunately, his lifestyle came with many downsides, sleep deprivation and shortage of free time he could spend with you being one of them, so when you found your handsome boyfriend lying next to you in bed, you couldn't stop yourself from admiring him, for once so peaceful, so relaxed. You felt like it was ages since he could sleep in like that.

His voluminous hair tickled your nose, he smelled both manly and sweetly at the same time, scent of cecilias he cultivated in his garden mixed with leather and smoke, reminder of dangerous activities he indulged in at night. You shifted closer to him, inhaling this familiar smell. His eyes opened, morning light enhanced golden tones in his hues. When he met your gaze it felt like all the warmth in them poured into your soul, lightening it up like sunlight itself, taking your breath away.

Diluc smiled at you lazily, leaning to kiss you. He tasted like promise of adventure, but his strong arms were like a safe harbor, grounding you and sheltering from all harm.

"I hope I didn't wake you up" you giggled. "You deserve a good rest for once Diluc."

"Don't worry, even if you did, I'd rather enjoy your company then sleep my love. Compared to reality with you every dream is dull." he whispered gently stroking your hair.

You laid your head down on his muscular chest, happy to cuddle your big, strong, loving man for the rest of the morning.

DAN HENG

Your beloved dragon came off as cold and emotionally detached to most people, his reserved nature forged in solitude he lived in for most of this lifetime successfully scared most people off. Yet, there was other side to him, born from isolation he suffered in Xianzhounian prison as well. Hunger for life and experiences he was devoid off for so long, overwhelming need to be free and feed his senses with all things this wast universe can offer, things he knew only from books.

Dan Heng was used to relying on himself, never given a chance to ask for too much or express his emotions freely, so when he was alone with you he tried his best to not seem needy, but it was obvious just how much he craved to be close to you.

He always kissed you a bit too greedily, as if it was the last time he can taste something so sweet, and he never pulled away first. When he caressed your body his fingers dug into your flesh, leaving marks on your fragile skin. Claiming you as his mate. He was touch-starved to the point of pain, skin to skin contact was so foreign to him it almost burned but he couldn't get enough. It was never enough.

Today you and your boyfriend woke up earlier than the rest of the crew. Before going back to your duties in the archieves you decided to take a quick shower together. Dan Heng looked stunning with water dripping down his perfect body, you couldn't take your eyes off his broad chest. He was more comfortable than usually, tracing marks on your skin with his fingertips.

Water washed away your mixed scent from your bodies when your hands massaged shampoo in his scalp. Dan Heng always made sure he does his share of work, both as Astral Express archivist and as your lover. It was a habit of his from time he first escaped from Xianzhou. He used to work for refuge and food in various places, justifying his existence with usefulness. Therefore you were not surprised when he returned the favor soon after you washed his hair.

" Why won't you let me spoil you sometimes?" you asked.

"You spoil me all the time." he calmly spoke up. "You give me all your love and help me become something more than a shadow of my past life by giving me another great reason to live here and now instead of dwelling on my nightmares. I merely return the favor."

Your cheeks flushed.

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to earn my kindness each time." you explained, biting your lip. His hands rubbing your head slowed down a bit.

"Don't worry about that. I like doing things for you, that's my way of showing that I care about you." he sighed. "You keep on telling me I need to learn how to receive affection, but aren't you the same as me?"

You didn't say anything back, instead you just let go and let his hands get lower to massage the knots out of your back, your muscles relaxing under his tender touch.

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 13- Step Bro!Dazai/Reader/Step Bro!Fyodor

Notes: I think it's a little ooc, but i really couldn't decide which characters to go with so yeah.

also, uhm, that fyodor header picture has nothing to do with the actual story, i just though he looked so fucking hot with that gun(also yes, ik im using the step silbing/dad concept twice but its just so sexy to me yaknow*)(*and also, if your wondering, i actually have a wonderful relationship with my father)

Ever since you can remember the house had been cold. You didn't call it your house, even though you had lived there all your life. No, it was more akin to a creature unto itself, a perfect reflection of your childhood. You were born in this house, the only child Mother, or Cecilia as she insisted upon, didn't abort. You spent your younger years with a nanny, who cared for you the best she could. She taught you to read and write, and you excelled especially at math. But Cecilia didn't care. She never cared. And the house reflected her disinterest.

The nanny, a kind woman named Martha, had been disposed of when you turned eight. Cecilia decided you were old enough to function on your own and fired the waste of money. You spent your years after that in the library, absorbing information, reading fanciful stories with mothers who loved their daughters. You wondered why Cecilia never loved you. 

When you turned ten, Cecilia brought home a man. She introduced you, and you stood like instructed, pretty and well behaved. He patted you on the head, but never spared you a glance. He was tall, blond and very, very young. Much younger than Cecilia. And he was much too enamored to care for you, Cecilia's little child. Cecilia encouraged this behavior, and although the number of people in the house had grown, you were all alone. You were always alone. But it was ok, you were used to the silence. You sat in your large playroom, and cried into your pillow, muffling your feelings in the silk. Cecilia didn't need your burdensome feelings. 

The summer you turned eleven, Cecilia brought another man home. And this man was kind to you at first. He gave you candy and treated you with kindness, luring you into his trap like a spider. The first time he hit you, you had cried defiantly for Cecilia. And of course Cecilia had not come, for she would rather believe her boytoys over her own flesh and blood. Humans were cruel things, ready to hurt others at the drop of a hat. And Cecilia was the cruelest. Nothing comforted you for ounce as you cried into your comforter, as unloved as before. 

The summer you turned fifteen it was clear you had inherited Cecilia's peerless beauty. You spent the rest of the summer mastering makeup and when you arrived at your private school you were instantly popular. The makeup just elevated your already peerless beauty and people, both boys and girls fell at your feet. You reveled in the popularity, the love. A different kind of love, but love all the same. The house congratulated you, but Cecilia didn't care. She never did, after all.

Your grades never fell however, you simply could not let them. If you were proud of anything, it was your intelligence. It was wholly yours, unlike your beauty, inherited from Cecilia. You hated that you were her creation, hated it with your entire very being. You loved your intelligence, however. It came from your father, you were told briefly by Cecilia, and because you had never met him it was easier to accept his qualities. The house was from your father, his money at least. A gift to Cecilia. 

And the one gift he had ever gotten you was a ring, a gorgeous piece of silver and emeralds that Cecilia had taken, stoll right from your pudgy two year old hands. You had never even gotten to hold it as an adult. You didn't miss it, not really. But you hated the trait you shared with Cecilia, a sense of selfishness, and a love for jewelry. 

 It was on your sixteenth birthday, sitting at a table alone as you were blowing out the birthday candles, that you truly cried without the comfort of your pillows. Cecilia was out, and as you eat your cake, you soon come to realize that you had grown up too fast. You had been an adult since the moment Martha was fired and you had sat in the cold walls of your beige playroom, crying and crying for comfort, something that would never find you again. You were a shell, a puppet, a beautiful china doll empty of  love. You were Cecilia. The house laughed at your plight, as you sobbed into your pillow, muffling your feelings into the comforting silk. 

It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after you turned seventeen when Cecilia broke the news. You were sitting by the pool, sunbathing in your swimsuit. Cecilia simply walked in, spared you a glance, and informed you she was getting married. You felt a small shiver of surprise run up your spine. Cecilia had had many boyfriends, yes, but she never married them. This man had to be different. Or maybe it was her age, and her fading looks. You hated the spike of happiness that pillaged though your heart, you hated how feelings of hatred turned you into a spiteful shrew, just like Cecilia. Cecilia had cracked open a beer, flipping through her magazine, sparing you one last glance. “He has sons, two of them.” She had said, closing the screen door behind her. 

⋆｡ °✩

“There you are, Name. You're late.” Cecilia said, giving you her usual faintly disapproving stare mixed with disgust. You still quail under it, even though it's the same one you’ve seen for years and years and years. You still fear her disapproval, even after all. 

“I'm sorry Cecilia.” You say, straightening your spine. You're still in your school uniform, and the bus was late but you know better than to give excuses. Cecilia doesn't care for those. The little skirt and blazer combo is one of your favorites, and the only thing you truly love about St. Catherine's private school for young ladies. The walls of St Catherines are barren and cold, but not as cold as your own. Cecilia flips her hair, looking perfectly put together as always, although her age is beginning to show around her eyes. She hates it, you know, and you love it. You can't wait for Cecilia to wither away, her personal worst nightmare. 

“Don't embarrass me, Name.” Cecilia says, her cold eyed stair rooting you to your place. “Just smile pleasantly and entertain your step brothers, alright Sweetheart?” She says. The pet name reeks of disinterest but her disinterest is preferable to her anger. For when Cecilia angers the foundations of the very house shake. You nod, and Cecilia takes that as enough. A knock sounds on the door, and any ugly expression is gone from her face as she flies for the door, opening it and hopping into the arms of the man behind it. 

He’s your mothers usual type, tall and handsome, but several years older than you would have guessed. He spins her around, and they kiss. You look away. There are two boys standing behind him on the doorstep, and to your surprise they also look away from the torrid display. Their strange boys, both around the same height, but that is the only thing they share in common. They don't even really look related, but who are you to judge? Done with their display, Cecilia and her new husband step through the door, still attached at the hip. Cecilia throws you a glare, and you put on your customary smile, a smile so fake you feel like a barbie doll. 

“My daughter, Name.” Cecilia almost imperceptibly grimaces at the word daughter, gesturing at you. You smile. “Hello.” You say, feeling like a fake. The man gives you a smile, gesturing at his sons, who have stepped through the door, and now stand on either side of him and Cecilia. “My sons, Fyodor and Osamu.” The one on the right smiles at you, the other one simply gives you a nod. They're so different, you’d almost think them adopted. But you can see their features in their father. 

The smiling one, Osamu, has short wavy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. He gives you a tiny wave, and you feel your smile become genuine for a second, before you catch yourself. The ones who smile are more dangerous, you had learned long ago. They lure you with kindness and hit you with force. He’s dressed in a wrinkled button down and uniform pants, his posture casual with his hands in his pockets. A matching tie hangs crooked on his neck. It's the uniform for your school, or the boys school across the street. St. Catherines school for young ladies and St. Andrews school for young men share a single campus separated by a metal fence. 

The one on the left side is pale, almost sickly pale, with dark circles to match his long dark hair. It looks soft, his hair, and brushes just below his jaw. H’s eyes are dark, and they run over your face, almost as if they're checking for cracks in your composure. He’s dressed in the same uniform, but his appearance is more neat. His tie is tied correctly, and he wears a black jacket over the rest of his uniform. They are strange boys, but you are very used to strange after all. 

“Name? Entertain your new brothers, Sweetheart.” Cecilia says. You wince at the nickname. You hate that nickname, you hate it so much. “Yes Cecilia.” You bite out, smile still in place. You feel empty, like a porcelain doll. A tool Cecilia can use and discard at any moment. You feel disposable. You hate it. 

⋆｡ °✩

Your new brothers are kind, if a little strange. The quiet one with pretty hair, Fyodor, is a year older than you. He plays cello and dislikes Cecilia, which makes you like him a lot. Fyodor treated you with an amount of distance at first, but slowly warmed up to you when he found out you play piano. He had informed you one day, when he was helping you with homework, that his mother was a Russian supermodel. And he’s handsome, you're not really surprised. He’s kind in a quiet kind of way, less teasing than his younger brother. You also notice how he subtly moves forward, shielding you whenever Cecilia is angry. You love him for it, that protectiveness. 

Osamu is younger than you by about six months, and loud. He quite clearly makes it his goal to be the loudest person in the room and you love how it annoys Cecilia every time he steals her thunder. He’s a very touchy person as well, unlike his brother. He would comfort you with jokes when he saw you were down, and could not cook for the life of him. His reaction to Cecilia was the most reactionary. He taunted her, shot smart alec remarks in her direction, or just plain ignored her. And every time he got a reaction. Cecilia’s face would flush red with anger, and she would strike out, just to be dodged with a snarky little comment. And the more angry she got, the more pleased Osamu became

And they hate each other, the brothers. At first you had thought they got along well, but then you noticed the snarky little comments they would trade back and forth, the glares behind their parents back. Everything is a constant competition, be it a board game or report cards they make it their goal to beat the other each time. And you don't really mind, the house feels warm and full of life, and you feel included. To them, life seems a game, and the people who live it merely pieces, to be moved to and fro to their pleasure. You must assume yourself a spectator, not a piece, but if you were a piece you would like to be the queen. Cecilia didn't like your new brothers, that much was obvious. But she still used them to belittle you every chance she got.  

“Your brothers got all A+.” She would say, pinning you with that faintly disgusted expression she used as default. “And you got an A.” You would surrender to your room to cry in peace, away from Cecilia's proud eyes, and the prying ears of your much to perceptive brothers. 

But if they shared anything, it was a sense of mystery. Because each of them never allowed you to get too close, keeping you forever just a length away. You tried not to take it personally, but you still shed a tear or two. 

But for the first time in many years, you were happy. The house congratulated you, as its hallways filled with laughter to replace to silence, its rooms with color to replace the beige. Cecilia was as unpleasant as ever, but she was busy with her husband, and left you and your step brothers to their own devices. But still you feared it would all go away. That soon, they would tire of you, that they would never let you close, that Cecilia would grow tired of her husband and toss out the trash as she always did. It was a nagging fear that came back to haunt you in dreams, until you woke up in a cold sweat. 

And there's an odd tension that hovers in the air, whenever you and the brothers interact. A strange tension that makes your blood sing with excitement, that leaves you on your toes with anticipation. When Osamu slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a loose hug of sorts. When Fyodor pulls your hair behind your ear, his cold fingers brushing your face, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It's a tension you’ve felt before, a tension you don't want to give name to, a tension that scares you. But then, you're sure it's just you, that your new brothers simply treat you as a sister, like how you should treat them. You should not desire your step brothers, Cecilia had told you the night before they moved in. But then again, Cecilia had never been a very good role model. 

⋆｡ °✩

It's raining, big fat drops pattering against the roof, wind splattering the droplets against the window panes. A faint clatter can be heard from outside, as if the wind itself is crying, banging at the doors. The wind sounded lonely. It banged on the doors of the world, begging to be let into the light, much like you had when you were young. You wanted to comfort the wind, to hold her in your arms with the warmth you had never been given, but everyone knew you could not hold the wind. So you simply told her to stay strong, and let the night and rain embrace her for you. 

You would always read when it rained. You remembered a book you had read long ago. It had been the one to solidify the wind as lonely, and had been oh so impressionable to your young mind. ‘Keep strong wind’ it read, ‘keep strong and soon the rain and night will hold you in their comforting embrace, will keep you warm and happy…’. You had always seen yourself in the lonely wind, and had dreamed of your rain and night to comfort you. The library had long been your only comfort, and you begged for human comfort, human warmth.(You didn't dare to hope that your step brothers could be your night and rain, because you knew god would hear you and laugh in your face. Because god loved Cecilia, not worthless you.)

Cecilia and her husband are gone, on a weekend trip to Hawaii. You were not invited, because of course not, and neither were your brothers. 

The house is almost silentand with Osamu out at book club the house seems to sigh in relief, giving itself time to relax before the loudness returns. 

You are curled up on the couch with a book, listening to Fyodor as he practices his Cello. It's a cozy evening, the fire crackling in the grate, the strains of the first movements of Brahms – Cello Sonata No. 1 floating through the cozy atmosphere. You hear the piano part along with him unconsciously, fingers tapping your things in rhythm. You can never quite beat the musician out of you, it's embedded into your very being at this point. 

Brahms – Cello Sonata No. 1, the first movement is a deep piece, and slightly depressing if you're being honest. But you love the melancholy that surrounds it. It creates a certain air, allowing the instruments to tangle together beautifully almost as if the melodies are dancing together. They twist like lovers, the parts, dipping one then the other, a beautifully teasing medley of pure emotion, something you could never truly give in life. It would be nice to dance with Fyodor, he was such an elegant human being, from the way he walked to his looks. You imagined the two of you would sail across the floor of the ballroom, his gloved hand on your waist, twirling you and spinning you and only looking at you. You wanted him to gaze upon you with reverence, much like the men your mother married gazed upon her. You want to be loved.

The Cello part comes to an end, and you sit silently for a moment, hesitant to break the spell. Then Fyodor's accented voice, still slightly hushed, breaks through the atmosphere. “How was it?” He says. You love his accent, it feels all full and warm. “Good, good as always.” You say, putting a finger in your book and looking up. “You were a bit sharp on the first note of measure twenty seven.” You're reading Pride and Prejudice, again. You’ve always loved it, and have read it some many times you’ve simply lost count.

Fyodor sighs, leaning back in his chair and resting his cello back into its case. “You always catch my mistakes. What would I do without you, Name.” He says with a small smile. Your heart warms at the praise, your smile threatening to break out of its confinements, all together and split your face in two. You tamp it down, putting on a face of disinterest you're not sure he believes. You always get the vague feeling that your brothers know you better than you know yourself.

You flip through the channels on tv, happy to have control of the remote. It's all the usual, sports games and real housewives and spanish game show episodes. You put on a random movie, which sounded interesting. ‘Essential object of enjoyment,’(is a title that to anyone else would scream softcore porn film, to you, still a sheltered girl of seventeen years old, it seemed as innocent as a daisy. You were not a virgin, but inexperienced and somewhat oblivious, so at odds with your calm adult attitude.) Fyodor plops himself on the couch next to you, a tedious foot away. He seemed too far away but all at once to close, the heat of his body a tease beside you. You clench your legs together, pulling in on yourself.

The film is about a young woman named Maria, who is taking a vacation on a very sketchy manor in a strange small town. It's a low budget film, with crappy acting and even crappier scares, but it's entertaining and you find yourself settling in against the couch, slowly leaning closer and closer to the warm human beside you. And soon, as Maria decides to ignore all the advice of the locals and enter the abandoned church late at night, you're so close your shoulders are almost touching, and finally, you dare to lean into him. 

He lets you, slinging an arm around your shoulders with an excuse none of you are listening to anyway, and pulls a small blanket over your bare legs. “You're cold aren't you?” he says, voice hushed in your ear. You shiver, with a nod. You arent that cold, but you want to be close to him, to feel his heat, his warmth. You're sure he knows this, and you let yourself feel hopeful for once, curling into his body like a pedigree cat. 

And as you watch the movie, heart pounding in your throat, it dawns on you that something is very clearly wrong. The budget is too cheap, but the camera work is too advanced, the camera’s to expensive. The acting is too bad, but the actress has professionally done makeup and hair. And then, as you watch Maria get tied up by the clean masked man, it all makes too much sense. It's softcore porn. You move for the remote, fishing around for it on the couch, desperately. You're already flushing, your thighs rubbing together as you reach around for it. The idea of watching a porn film with your step brother is humiliating and embarrassing and frustratingly arousing. 

“Do you need something?” Fyodor says, rubbing little soft patterns in your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. You nod. “The remote, gonna switch channels.” You're already flushing, but have stopped your frantic fishing for the remote. He frowns in disappointment and you automatically tense, so used to Cecilia’s disappointed or angry stares. “Can we leave it, I'm actually enjoying it.” He says. You glance at the screen, where Maria is now being threatened by a knife. You desperately want to say no, but the people pleaser in you insist you agree. And so, you sink back into his touch, flushing. 

‘Where is it? Where is it?’ The masked man is saying to Maria. The film takes a moment to focus on the actress’s bountiful chest, and you try not to writhe with embarrassment and jealousy. You bet Fyodor likes big boobs, Cecilia said all men like big boobs. Her’s are fake, but you don't feel the need to protest and get a slap. 

The bad guy of the film is a man in a purple mask. He’s thin in stature, and tall, overwhelming Maria’s small frame. He reminds you distinctly of the man sitting beside you, with his face hidden like that. He has a russian accent in the film as well, just like the man beside you, and as he whispers in her ear it does stuff to you. 

‘Tell me where it is or there will be consequences.’ the man in the mask says. 

‘I will never tell you!’ Maria says definitely. You watch in horror as the masked man's thin fingers slip between her thighs. The camera cuts to her face of surprise. It's clear that this is where the actress’s true chops shine, as her mouth drops open in a little oh of surprise. 

You feel hot, biting back a whimper as you press your thighs together, hoping that your step brother doesn't notice. 

‘Your such a slut for my fingers aren't you?’ The man in the mask bends Maria over a table, the camera now showing a cut of his hands pulling her thighs apart. All you can picture in your mind is you as Maria, and the man in the mask as Fyodor. When the man in the film speaks all you can hear is Fyodor’s voice, his teasing lines, him all him all him. 

And then, the other bad guy of the film appears. And honestly it should shock you out of your dirty fantasies, but the other man, this one in a teal mask, sounds very similar to your other step brother. 

You can imagine yourself in Maria's place, bent over a table like that, fingers shoved up your cunt, dick keeping you silent. And most of all, pretty praises falling out of your step brother's mouths. ‘Such a pretty girl, such a smart girl, so good for us, such a slut for us—’

Fyodor’s eyes are on you, you can feel them even as you focus resolutely on the screen. He speaks near your ear, a pur, a whisper, a tease ment for seduction. “What are you imagining, darling?” He says. He speaks like he already knows, and through your haze of arousal clouding your brain you let the words escape before you can stop them. 

“Fingers in my cunt.” You say, your voice a whimper. Maria on the screen begins to moan, loudly. The volume goes down on screen and you're too lust clouded to question why Fyodor had the remote. 

“You want fingers in your pretty cunt baby?” Fyodor purrs in your ear, his long pale fingers teasing the edge of your uniform skirt. “You want my fingers stuffed up that tight cunt of yours? Would that feel good?” You whine, head falling back against his arm, eyes falling closed. 

“Oh yes, please.” Your voice is embarrassing, all breathy and whiny. This whole situation is illogical, and if you were able to see through the haze of lust in your brain you would have backpedaled immediately. But you're horny and in love and he’s encouraging you. 

His fingers caress the edge of your panties, teasing you with glances of touches, driving you crazy. You grip his arm, the one teasing your pussy and shove the hand against your drooling cunt. The man beside you bites back a groan, muffling his pleasure, but you hear it. It reassures you that he wants you too, but also drives you insane, craving sweet relief with his touch. 

Fyodor’s fingers find purchase, clever musicians' hands pulling back the crotch of your panties. He chuckles as you clutch his arm, still clothed in his loose white turtleneck and jeans. “You're so wet darling, your little cunt is absolutely drooling.” he says, his accent doing things to your brain, to your pussy. Your eyes catch on the dirty picture. He drags his fingers through, collecting a fair bit of wetness and popping his fingers in his mouth. The picture is nasty. He keeps eye contact all throughout, sucking his fingers wetly, the dirty slurping sounds filling the room. 

“Here darling.” He holds out his wet fingers, dripping with a mix of saliva and your own arousal. “Suck.” He says. You take them in your mouth obediently, tasting the mix of arousal and saliva. The very idea that you're tasting him, that you're tasting his very being, makes your abandoned cunt clench around nothing, the nasty slurping sounds you make only fueling the arousal perfuming the air. At some point Fyodor had turned off the porn, and now the only sounds that fill the room are from the two of you. A different kind of music than that you're used to, a symphony of debauchery. 

His fingers leave your mouth with a pop, and you open your eyes. He smiles at you, all hazy eyes and spit slicked lips. “Good girl.” He says, and then shoves both fingers in your cunt. You arch off the couch at the abrupt intrusion, clenching down hard around his fingers with a scream. ‘Oh, oh god Fyodor!” You say, panting. He looks vaguely proud as he scissors you open, watching as you thrash around on his fingers, bucking desperately. 

The sound of the door slamming penetrates the haze, and you grip Fyodor’s fingers, trying to stop him. He just continues to fuck you open, grining all the while. 

“Man, fuck you Fyodor.” It's Osamu, looking less surprised and more annoyed. Fyodor just continues grinning as you moan on his fingers, drooling pussy on display. “I consider this a win then?” He says, smirking. Ah, another one of their competitions. You would pay more attention but your being fucked open by Fyodor’s long relentless fingers. You keen as he adds another one, gripping his arm with a nasty whine. 

Osamu speaks to Fyodor, but his eyes are fixed on you. “It's not over yet, you fucker.” He says, slamming his backpack down on the floor and sauntering over to you. “Name declares the winner. Deal?” Fyodor, now rubbing a thumb on your clit nods, holding out his other hand to shake. “Deal, that sound good darling?” You nod around your moans, not truly comprehending what that means. Osamu sends you a rather scary looking grin and pounces. 

They move you into a doggy position first, Fyodor replacing his fingers with his cock. You're already so close, and as you feel the large intrusion bully your walls apart you cum right there, your head falling against the couch cushions. “Oh, oh, oh god, ‘m coming!” You scream, drooling onto the couch. Fyodor grunts behind you. “You're tight.” He coos. Osamu grips your jaw, draggin you off the ouch to look at him. “So pretty too, just perfect aren't you.” His dick is already hard in his jeans, you can see the bulge as Fyodor begins to move, fucking you through the overstime. You whine in pain, the sharp pains of overstimulation mixing with the blinding pleasure they give you. Dazai chuckles. 

“We’re going to fuck you do good darling.” He says, running a gentle hand through your hair. “Make you feel our love.”

⋆｡ °✩

It's when you're three orgasms deep, and you're hung over the couch backwards, a dick down your throat and cum dripping from your pussy, that you maybe start to have second thoughts. Their stamina seems endless, and they bring to the edge relentlessly, their competitive natures making them drive you to orgasm after orgasm. The world is hazy at this point, and all you feel is pleasure, all you hear is their voices, all you want is them, them them. 

“Switch her around Osamu.” Fyodor says, his accent rough though the haze. You feel yourself hoisted up, and now you're folded into a mating press and Fyodor’s fat cock is bullying your walls again. Cum leaks out of all your holes, the loud squelching sound letting you know that you're thoroughly ruining Cecilia's favorite couch. You're covered in sweat, completely naked and makeup ruined, and to the boys you’ve never looked so pretty. They tell you at length, compliments showered on your exhausted form. 

And as you cum yet again, clenching around Fyodor’s dick with a weak cry, you feel so loved, so appreciated, and so optimistic. 

And then you bended into another position, Dazai’s dick lodged into your ass, Fyodor’s in your dripping cunt.

⋆｡ °✩

“So, which of us won anyway?” It's Dazai, and he sounds plenty exhausted. You sigh tiredly, holes dripping cum onto the carpet and exhausted. “Draw.” Is all you manage to pant out. 

Fyodor beside you chuckles. “I guess we’ll have to have a rematch then.” You're exhausted, but you feel your pussy clench tiredly at the mention of that. “Yeah.” You sigh out tiredly. The boys chuckle beside you, each pressing a kiss to your cheeks. 

“Love you Name.” You hear them whisper in your ear. You smile as you drift off the sleep. 

End Notes: I am actually a piano player, and every time I listen to classical pieces nowadays I feel really bad because I haven't been practicing lately because my piano teacher is taking a break because she had a baby. 

[xjulixred45x]

I know I have to work on the requests, but I have to get this out of my head because now I have a rediscovered love for Invincible, bear with it.

(SOMETHING LIKE A CONTINUATION OF THIS)

SOME SITUATIONS WITH YANDERE AU MARK GRAYSON/INVINCIBLE

okay, I can definitely see that you two were a couple or at least liked each other before everything went to hell.

and although you were fine with Mark at that time, when he was being convinced to join the Viltrum empire, he was somewhat seeking your approval. although using very vague assumptions, such as "would you accept an alien race if it meant world peace?" "or if that would help with the development of medicine?" You know, like what Nolan wanted to do at the beginning with Mark. and obviously since you didn't have the context you said yes without hesitation, further fueling Mark's crazy ideas.

I may not have made it very clear in the first part, but you and Nolan definitely don't get along. I mean, he's nice to you in a way, but he treats you like a little kid who needs discipline, so he tries to push Mark into that. Not only that, but you also indirectly blame him for the sudden change in Mark's personality, you know that if Nolan hadn't gotten him into that shit, he wouldn't have so much blood on his hands. The Mark you knew wasn't like that. HE WASNT.

The main reason this Mark doesn't feel angry because of your traditional escape attempts or why he's so soft is because of something our Invincible doesn't usually have, and that's his ARROGANCE. This Mark does not believe that you are capable of running away from him, you are not capable of defending yourself from him, you are not capable of harming him and above all you are not capable of HATE HIM, because he sees you as a soft creature, who should be treated as such because you are confused.

He is delusional, SpongeBob and Squidward level of Delusional. You could perfectly tell him that you hate him, that he's the worst thing that happened to you in your life... and he thinks it's reverse psychology.

"fuck you"

"Is that an invitation?😚"

"I hate you"

"I love you too babe🥰"

"If we were trapped on a desert island I wouldn't hesitate for a second to make a raft with your limbs"

"Silly you, I would take you out flying😘"

Do you see what I'm saying? For the same reason, if you end up hurting him, he would be proud that now you can definitely defend yourself from the Revolutionaries who "kidnap you every now and then" (it's you on the run). dang it, if you hurt him probably even NOLAN would compliment you for doing it despite being "so weak" and would completely approve of you.

(I can already imagine you with a wedding dress and a bouquet of knives...you want to throw it at Mark...in the face)

I think the most Mark does to scare you into escape scenarios is to threaten to throw you and not catch you next time, that's the best he goes. He can't stand the idea of leaving you paralyzed because it would be very boring and sad to see only a shell of you.

He wouldn't kill Eve, but he would never hurt you...physically. Did you see that in the end in their universe they manage to imprison him and get rid of Omniman? you totally didn't let go of Fem! Cecil(Cecilia?) all the way to her base and thanking her with all your heart and tears. Cecilia comforted you awkwardly, but she understood that you must have definitely had a hard time with Mark.

Meanwhile, with Mark already locked up, even if the world is a bit messed up, you can breathe easy for the first time in years, you can leave the base without fear of what happens to the people around you, you can eat without a problem, you can CHAT with people! it's magic! It's like you don't even remember anything before Mark! out of pure fear!

Meanwhile, Mark in prison always asks about you AT LEAST once a day, even if they give him proof that you are WELL and HEALTHY, he just doesn't believe it and DEMANDS to see you to prove it, which they obviously deny him and only makes him think that even more. The guy thinks you must be dying of hunger and cold or being eaten by collotes while you live your best life🤣

"MY POOR BABE! She must be so confused and scared without me! How do I know they're not torturing her for information!? She must be so worried because we're not getting home!" and it goes on and on... meanwhile Darling: "happy~ happy~happy~" "OHHHOOOhhOO, I'M SO FUCKING HAPPY!"

For now that's all. I hope the Viltrum empire doesn't come to shit on Darling's happiness☠️

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (V) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 2K

Driver!oc X Max Verstappen

Platonic!Driver!oc X the grid

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: google translated french, dutch, cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

Couldn't sleep so here we go...

This is a secondary blog so I won't be able to respond but I'm adding you all.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Previous || Next

Nosy friends and lunch 

“What?” Cecilia answered the call request coming from discord, her friends have been spamming her with texts and facetime and she hasn’t accepted any calls or replied to any texts, thank you Charles Leclerc for being a snitch.

“Finally!” Lando was the first to speak, Cecilia didn’t even look at the phone, she continued getting ready, it’s still lockdown she wasn’t leaving to meet Max for once… he was coming over for the first time, they’ve been meeting regularly(at least three times a week)  for the last couple of months. At times she’d go after Nathalie fell asleep, she hadn’t taken Nattie with her to Max’s since that day, but she had been talking to him on the phone, like she does with Charles and her other uncles. It was cute how her daughter would talk with Charles in almost all French and with Max in almost all English. Her daughter is growing up like her and her brother, but that’s besides the point. 

“What do you guys need? I’m busy.” 

“We can see, so who is coming over?” Hearing Pierre’s voice made her glance at the phone to see who was actually in the call, of course her friends from karting plus Lando. 

“Oh my god! You all are so nosy, how did you find out anyway?” She asked knowing that she hasn’t said anything, not even to Charles.

“I may have talked to your mum.” Charles confessed with a proud smile.

“You should be scared Charlotte! That’s creepy behaviour!” Cecilia shouted through the phone knowing that his girlfriend is sitting next to him, she heard her laugh. “Why did I give you my mum’s number again.”

“Don’t try to change the subject Cecilia, when were you going to tell us?” Alex asked, he looked comfy, sitting back on his sofa with a smoothie or juice or something sipping from a straw. In fact they all looked like they were sitting for a gossip session.

“Tell you what? There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Why are you putting makeup on then?” Pierre asked, itching for new gossip.

“It’s just the basic stuff.” Cecilia said, shrugging still continuing with her makeup.

“What did I miss?” George asked, joining the call, Cecilia wanted to pull her hair and block all her friends.

“Little miss secrets here, is getting ready for a date with Max.” Lando told his fellow brit.

“It’s not a date, he’s meeting my parents.” Cecilia said before she could think and sighed, they all howled with laughter.

“You’re already meeting the parents.” Charles said laughing, it was all in good fun, and things have been boring since covid started.

“You all met my parents before, each and everyone of you.” Cecilia said and pointed at them. “You know what, I’m blocking you all.” 

With that she ended the call to finish getting ready in peace, they got on her nerves sometimes. She needs more females in her life.

“I just got here.” George groaned.

“You don’t think she’ll actually do it, do you?” Alex asked, suddenly concerned.

“I don’t think so.” 

“Me neither.” Charles and Lando comforted the others, they just sat there for a while contemplating the duo, and how they thought things would turn out to be like. Charles knew your mother would tell him if he asked.

Cecilia finished getting ready and went to help her mum with the last of the food, Cecilia really wasn’t dressed up, she just had light makeup and a sundress, it was getting warmer now, and they were eating out on the terrace. Seeing her mum in a dress Nattie also wanted to change into a dress as well.

“Go help her, your dad and I will finish here.” her mum said and patted her back, Cecilia took Nattie to her room and made her choose the dress she wanted, midway she heard the doorbell ring, and she knew Max had arrived.

Max was greeted by your dad, he of course saw him before, but it was always from afar they never talked. “Nice to meet you sir.”

“You too, come in please.” Max was led inside he glanced around, this is the house you grew up and lived your whole life in, the penthouse is bigger than the apartment he lives in, for one he rents they own, this one is two stories with apparently a gym. But it felt lived in, from what Cecilia told him is that her dad’s family had generational wealth, but her mum came from a humble bringing, so yes they had the best things in life, but her mum made them know how lucky and privileged they were. As teens they had to work to earn their money, and learn to do things on their own, they never had a nanny or a chef, someone did come in to clean twice a week, so they did their chores, their mum really wanted them to grow up as normal as she could when your dad is a billionaire. 

“I didn’t know what to bring.” Max said and handed her dad a couple of wine bottles, he had ordered online. Looking at her dad, he saw a lot of him in Cecilia and in turn Nathalie, all their colours are her dad, her lips and nose being the only thing he couldn’t place on him.

“You didn’t need to bring anything, but we’ll enjoy it I’m sure.” Cecilia’s dad led him inside to the living room, not the formal one for guests, the one they hosted their friends and family in, the walls were all mostly glass with doors leading to the big terrace. “Cecilia is changing Nattie, the girl took one look at her mum in a dress and suddenly she wants to wear one too.”

“Max! Hello.” Cecilia’s mum walked up with open arms greeting the man, Max had just sat down, stood up quickly just as he was pulled in a motherly hug, she kissed his cheeks like the french one on each side before she pulled back. 

“Nice to meet your Mrs. Hansson.” Max greeted the smiley woman, and he knew where you took your lips and nose from, the perfect blend between your parents.

“Please call me Adeline.” She waved his formalities off. “I saw you grow up with Cecilia, sorry I look like a mess.”

“No, no you don’t… Do you need some help.” Max offered, he could smell the food already coming from the kitchen.

“Nonsense, sit down and talk with Börje, I’m almost done.” With that she gracefully left, sitting back down he faced Cecilia’s dad.

“Cecilia told us you’re quarenting alone.” Börje said and Max nodded, they talked a little about what he was doing since lockdown started, her dad shared how hard it was to run a business from home, especially since HQ was in sweden. 

“Pappa, don’t bore him with your work.” Cecilia called to her dad as Nattie ran in the room to her grand-père before she saw Max and turned to run to him, Max caught the girl and pulled her up on the sofa beside him.

“He’s not bored.” Her dad said acting hurt by her words after rolling his eyes. “I’m not boring you Max am I?”

“No, not at all.” Shaking her head at him, MAx greeted her daughter, before he stood up and gave her a small hug.

“In that case, take care of my child while I help maman.” Cecilia said and turned to her dad. “Can you set the table?”

“Sure thing Älskling.” (Darling) Her dad said and the men moved out to the terrace, there was a cabinet there with a sink and everything for when they had BBQs out there, it was filled with plates and cutlery. Once again Nathalie wanted to help so Max had her placing the spoons and forks in their place. If your dad had doubts about Max before they’re starting to disappear now. He saw Max like the public saw him, only what he presented, and to be honest he doesn’t like Jos but seeing how he talked with Nattie, his instincts as a father were calm. 

After they were done with the table, the men found themselves by the railing, Max was looking at the view, glancing at the girl who was swinging on the small playground set, her granddad had installed for her. 

“Cecilia might kill me for saying this but, when she was pregnant she used to watch a lot of your races.” Börje told the driver he was amused thinking about it now, because if he thinks too deeply all he feels is rage and sadness, an overwhelming feeling of sadness. 

“Did she?” Max asked and turned to copy Cecilia’s dad’s stance, they leaned back on the railing, this is news to him.

“Yeah, she’d say how she wanted to do that, she’d dream of getting in F1. Did you know that Ferrari were in talks with her in 2016 about maybe signing her and having her as a reserve driver.” Max looked surprised at the news, Cecilia got pregnant during negotiations and her lawyer(dad’s lawyers) got her out of the deal with smooth talks and ended things on a good note for future possibilities. “Right when she got pregnant, it took a lot for her to decide what to do. She was glowing when she held Nattie and told us she wanted to get back into racing.”

“She’s lucky she had you supporting her, not many parents would.” Max spoke the truth, wealthy or not, not many parents would have their adult children’s backs like that.

“She’s my girl, even if she’s an adult with a daughter of her own, that's my baby girl.” Börje said, before Max called for Nattie to be careful, right before Börje was about to, the girl took to swinging and then jumping. The set was on a type of foam mat but she could still hurt herself. “Cecilia has always been honest with us, and I can see that you care, not many men would get in a relationship with a woman who has a child, but like I told you, that’s my little girl and I don’t want to see her heartbroken.”

“She won’t I promise.” Max promised his eyes and tone telling the truth, Börje smiled and patted his back. 

“Max, can you help Cecilia bring out the food?” Adeline asked coming out with the salad, when Börje moved to also help she gave him a look, happily married for 30 years now, made him understand her with only a look.

When Max walked in the kitchen he was met with Cecilia taking a baking dish out of the oven before she sat it on the counter. “Need help?”

“Huh, yeah. Mum made so much food you’d think she’s feeding an army.” Cecilia said and looked at all the food sitting in trays and serving dishes, the quantity wasn’t a lot but she made a lot of options. “We'll all be eating this for days to come.”

Max came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, she smiled and turned her head kissing his cheek. “Haven’t been able to say hi properly.” 

“Sorry about that.” She turned in his arms and hugged him around the neck, his arms around her waist, they stood there for a moment before they pulled back, as much as Max wanted to kiss her lips, they’re at your parent’s house and they’re here, so out of respect for them he kissed her forehead before he pulled away and they started bringing the food out, on the last trip she got a bottle of chilled white wine and room temp red one(one of the ones Max brought) along with a wine looking glass that had juice for the little princess. 

Max and Cecilia sat across from her parents with Nattie between her mum and her boyfriend to be(?). They didn’t want to label it, but they are kind of in a relationship. If you spend  time with a man, occasionally kiss said man, talk to said man at all hours of the day and night, go to his house three times a week so you’d spend time together doesn’t that mean you’re dating? Please someone tell Cecilia to make a move already.

Max turned up his charm for the day, he had her parents laughing and engaging in all sorts of conversation, he complimented the cooking, the house, he even managed to talk business with her dad. All points for him in their book. Hearing Cecilia laugh with a man like she hasn’t in over four years made the points easy to give. With eyes that only parents had, they watched how when she laughed as she leaned towards him, her arm falling on his shoulder even with Nattie between them it all looked natural, a family in the making.

Ceciliahansson15

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Ceciliahansson15

liked by Carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, Pierregasly and 2,197,009 others

ceciliahansson15 A little wine never hurt anybody

view all 86,984 comments

username1 on my knees🧎‍♀️

username2 who got you those flowers 🤔

charles_leclerc 👀

georgerussell63 👀

ceciliahansson15 grow up!! 🙄😒

username3 what do you know???

username4 soft launch

alex_albon can I be invited the next time I'm in Monaco 👉👈

ceciliahansson15 literarly my mum invites half the grid over everytime! you chose not to come last year

alex_albon I WAS TIRED! I'M SORRY

ceciliahansson15 it's okay it was only a couple of us last year anyways 🤷‍♀️

username8 i wanna be invited 🥺

username5 is she soft launching? or is she just aesthetic🤔

username6 why not aesthetic and soft launching

username5 like the way you think 👍

username7 I lover her insta so much so pleasing to look at

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Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif  . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader , @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos .

[mossyivy]

I feel like Leon’s wife’s father invited him out to go fishing on his boat once or something, and it was honestly awkward most of the time.

They’d just be sitting in silence for a couple minutes, waiting for something to appear in the water. Leon would just start whistling to pass the time, trying to make it less awkward in any way.

It’s not because Leon didn’t like his wife’s father—it’s because that man scared him shitless. He was afraid if he even said one thing wrong or did one thing wrong, that man would come for his throat.

Leon would just catch his fish and do whatever that man told him, always ending in “sir” as soon as he finished talking. His wife would make fun of him for how scared he was of her father, but he couldn’t help it. Even if they had three kids and were happily married, he still didn’t wanna get on the guys bad side.

- Anon! 🎀

Oh his wife would bully tf out of him relentlessly. No holding back either. She's adamant her father loves him but he's not so sure.

Until one instance during a camping trip with the family and the grandparents tagged along. Gramps was adamant on teaching Violet to fish but she'd much rather stay and play with Cecilia back at their camp. (They're still younger here probably 9 and 5?) So Leon and the General end up fishing by themselves. It's incredibly awkward but at least there's some beers in the cooler to nurse while they fish.

After a few beers the General starts loosening up. Not eating breakfast because he spent most of the morning digging up worms for bait while everyone else ate. And now their spending the afternoon fishing. After a while, a few trout caught from the lake Leon starts reeling in something pretty big. It's fighting back pretty hard so he's talking Leon through the reeling as he grabs the net to scoop the fish up so the line doesn't break.

Leon ends up reeling in this massive fish. Enough to feed a few people. The General is smiling, smiling.... And patting him on the back. He puts a hand on Leon's shoulder and through tipsy slurs says:

"Leon, I'm proud to have you as my son."

Leon's in shock for a moment. He's been with his wife for years now and this is the first comment that's remotely anything like a compliment from this man with the exception of being called "not completely useless" countless times.

Not long after they go to shore, docking up and tying the boat up as they're cracking jokes all the way back to camp. But like some switch the second his father-in-law sees you, his daughter, he's back to his ways.

"Wow, look at you two! Lotta fish you got. Who caught the big guy?"

"The boy. He's not completely useless after all."

And we're back... Leon sighs, walking over and giving you a kiss hello as you tell him good job. Your father walks into the RV with the fish for his wife to clean.

"He said he was proud to have me as a son..." Leon immediately whispers to you. You smirk kissing his cheek.

"I told you he liked you. He just needs to be drunk to say it."