#Do feel free to drop an ask if you've got questions and I'll do my best to help

[littleblueclown]

Someone on AO3 asked me for writing tips since they want to start writing fics for the first time. I kinda wound up typing out a big ol' eleven paragraph essay of advice but my sister said I should post here so more people can read my tips. So uhh if you're interested in some of the tips and advice I've got, you can read my reply below the cut!

I will definitely say planning is important. I've noticed that if I don't have a decent outline that'll take me from start to finish it's harder to actually write the whole thing and it often winds up an abandoned project - having it even more fully planned is preferable but I often have a few gaps where I'll have to figure out how to get from plot point C to D or whatever, which can be annoying to figure out down the line, hence I recommend getting it as fleshed out as possible first.

Write what you love, that's another big one. Start small if it's intimidating - just like, a oneshot, a scene that you think would be fun to see between some characters you love or something. You could always look up writing prompts if you need inspiration. And, of course, reading is a huge help! I can't imagine being a writer without having read plenty of things myself - and read with the mindset of writing too. Like, reading for enjoyment is great (though since I've been writing since I was like, 12 I think I technically always read with the writer's brain somewhat active LOL) but taking note of things you like about how others write as you read can be really helpful. Like artists using other art styles as inspiration!

Also keep an eye on things like punctuation, spelling, grammar, etc - I'm certainly not perfect at it, but if you make a lot of big errors it can really distract a reader. I like to use Grammarly to help point out mistakes that I missed, but a word of warning, it's not always accurate, so definitely don't just accept everything it says as correct. It mostly helps me to see areas that *might* be wrong so I can see whether or not something actually needs changed. One mistake I tend to see newer writers do a lot is failing to make new paragraphs where they should. So be sure to follow the P rule - new Person, Place, Perspective, Plot point, Point of view, or Period of time are all moments when you should be making a new paragraph. So read up on basic grammar/punctuation/capitalization/etc rules and maybe even look up common mistakes people make so you can keep an eye out for it in your own work!

A trick I've found handy to help with writing characters if you're having trouble keeping them in character is to do a character study. Look at what's happened to them, their personality, and write about the whole thing. From their perspective, preferably. Try to get in their head. What makes them tick? What makes them who they are? What events have shaped them?

When it comes to dialogue, I encourage reading the scenes out loud after you write them. Does it sound natural? Does it sound like something they wouldn't actually say? Reading what you've written out loud in general can help you catch mistakes or areas that don't flow right, and if you've got someone you trust to read to, definitely do that - they might point out areas that don't make sense to a third party reader but only made sense to you because you already knew what you meant.

Don't be afraid to use a thesaurus, but don't get crazy with it unless super wordy purple prose with extravagant language is the style you're aiming for LOL use it where it really counts! Not all synonyms have the same feeling and vibe so keep that in mind when deciding what words to use. And do NOT listen to people who say said is dead. If you try to use a descriptive dialogue tag (aka stuff like mumbled, shouted, cried, sighed, etc) for every sentence it's gonna start sounding super weird. Our eyes and brains tend to skip over "said” because it's so basic. So if you need to make it clear who is talking (and you do want to make it clear so people don't get lost in ten lines of back and forth dialogue while forgetting who is saying what) without trying to figure out a special way that person can talk or some action they can do while speaking just so you're not saying "said", don't worry about it. Said is not bad, it's very useful. Save the dialogue tags for when someone is talking in a specific manner that's important to the tone of the story. If they're upset, make it clear in their voice or mannerisms. If they're extra excited or really angry. Use dialogue tags where you actually have something to get across.

I also advise trying to show not tell. Like yeah, some things need to be outright said sometimes, but there's plenty of ways to show things. Don't say "he was mad" if you can say "his fingers curled, anger blooming in his chest". "Thinking of her dead father made her sad" could be "her eyes started to burn with tears at the very thought of her late father's passing". I also recommend avoiding the extensive character physical description all crammed into one or two paragraphs the moment you meet them fjkfkgkgk you can sprinkle in their appearance over time. In one sentence, you can use something like "her blue eyes met his" and then a paragraph later, "shoving her black hair behind her ears with a huff, she (etc)". Unless it's really important to a character, it's not necessary to know what their entire outfit looks like, you know? Unless it helps show who they are or really stands out. It might be good to mention if it makes it clear what they do for work without having to outright say it, or if it helps paint the picture of their personality or life style. But it's not always needed or important. Learning to cut out stuff that's not actually important to forwarding plot or character growth and things can be really challenging (I try and put those in a different document in case I can use them another time or at least draw inspiration from them) but it is good to eventually learn.

What else... Oh, action scenes, if you ever want to write those, know that the more detailed and descriptive you get, the slower the scene will *feel*. This is something that's really fun actually, once you start to get the hang of it. You can have part of the fight feel like it's flying by so fast, wham bam kick just by keeping it within a few sentences. And then you can draw it out a bit more using more descriptive words and actions for another part of the scene. It's neat to play with the timing of things using that method - which can apply to more than just action scenes, but I feel like it tends to be easier to notice during those.

Also, write literally anything down that you come up with and think, oh that's kind of fun! You might find a place for it somewhere eventually. Don't be afraid to write scenes out of order - you can always tweak them to fit later! I've got a separate document for each story I write that's basically just future scenes or lines I'd like to fit somewhere if I can. Don't think there's no point in writing something down just because it's only one sentence. If it's a sentence you like the sound of, it might come in handy later!

Most importantly, practice a lot and don't be afraid to write badly. Like, it's all just steps towards getting better! Everyone starts somewhere! You might suck at first and that's okay - I can't even begin to express how horrible and cringey my writing was when I first started LOL it was like the kind of fanfic materials you see people making fun of and mocking. But I loved writing so I kept doing it and over time I got better! Just like any craft, unfortunately, it takes time and effort and doing it repeatedly (regularity can certainly help - sometimes I feel rusty if I go long periods without writing a single thing). Writing when inspiration strikes is always great, but sometimes you'll find yourself completely without inspiration, and when that happens, sometimes you just gotta force yourself to put pen to paper or fingers to keys and do it anyway. You can always go back and revise and improve later, or rewrite the entire thing if you don't like it, but something is better than nothing. If you hate what you wrote, ask yourself why and look for what it is you want to improve.

I mean heck, I've been writing for, what, over a decade? And I write stuff all the time that I look at and go hhh yeah,,, not the proudest of that, I could do better, I HAVE done better, etc, so even if it's been a long time you'll probably have those feelings plenty, but I think that just comes with creative hobbies because I certainly feel that plenty about my art too LOL don't get too discouraged though. When you read something that makes you go man, I wish I could write like that :/ my stuff sucks in comparison :/ try to think about what it is that's so good about what you read. What it is that you'd love to emulate into your own stuff. Is it the descriptive terminology? Is it the plot? Munch on it and try to figure out how you can use it to improve rather than just get discouraged about your stuff.

That's all I can really think of at the moment as far as the kind of general, all-encompassing sort of advice goes + some extras I just feel like I've picked up over time that I don't see talked about a ton in general writing advice... But if you have any questions, feel free to reach out! I love writing and I love to see people get into the craft <3

[sapsolais]

sometimes you have a shitty day but there are things that make it easier to keep going like:

- being silly with basically strangers

- hugs when you really need them

- quiet 3 am phone calls with people you really love

[yzashaven]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄…𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ soft dom!scaramouche x fem!reader

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw themes. mind break (sorta). overstimulation. fingering. cum eating. praise. "sweet girl" n "good girl". dacryphilia if you squint. cumming n squirting (mentioned). multiple orgasms. clit stimulation. no actual penetration (maybe if i do pt 2).

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ "you don't need to think, you just need to feel." —♡

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— hi yes i couldn't think of a title and yes this is what i'm suddenly coming back with because i suck at angst... i had the plot n everything but eh whatever 😭 i randomly got this brick of motivation dropped on my head so yeah have this for now and i'll be leaving for another month (jk) so this wasn't proofread... again. nevertheless, hope you all enjoy 🤍

it's been 3 hours...

"let go once more, sweet girl." the way scaramouche whispers to you causes the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. his fingers continuing to work their magic on your soaked pussy, rubbing on your clit as he drives you closer to another orgasm.

he's sitting right beside you on the bed as you laid there, obediently taking the pleasure he offers—every single bit of it. "cum for me," your legs shaking even more than before as the euphoric feeling envelopes you for the nth time already. "good girl." his free hand strokes your head gently.

you can vividly see that he's hard; you reach a hand out to touch him. before your mere fingertip could even get to his clothes, he had already grabbed onto your wrist, "i told you no touching." the sharp tone of his words cause you to retreat your hand back to simply hold onto the bedsheets beneath you.

"why can't i touch you?" your voice was slightly breathy as you asked. it's a risky question, honestly. he lets out a gentle sigh as he feels up your body again. a light squeeze to your breast once he thought about his answer.

"i don't need you to do anything to me, my sweet girl." he starts, "seeing you break for me is more than enough. to see you cry, beg, and cum is like eye candy that's all for me to devour." his thumb grazes your tear stained cheek, "so delicate, aren't you?"

at this point, your brain was already mush from the hours of continuous, endless pleasure. "scara..." the sweet whisper of your voice calling out to him, it's his favorite, "...can't think straight." he shows a soft smile as his hand is moving on its own, rubbing your cunt and spreading the sticky mess everywhere. the sheets underneath practically drenched from your arousal and the few times you squirted earlier.

"i don't need you to think," scaramouche's fingers slip back inside you, a moan coming from your lips in response, "all i need is for you to feel." your head is spinning as you feel yourself succumbing to the gentle pleasure of his sweet loving. "feels so good, yeah?" you nod as you let out yet another symphony of moans and whimpers all for him.

"do you wanna feel me? you want my cock inside you, hm?" your orgasm soon comes again as you coat his fingers with your cum, "yes, please." the way you begged him in such a desperate voice easily sent his mind in a spiral.

"you've been a good girl all this time." he pulls his fingers out of your cunt and gives it a short taste, licking his fingers clean before slowly moving to position himself between your legs. "give me your hand." scaramouche then leads your hand down to the obvious bulge in his pants, "feel that? i'm so hard for you, my sweet girl." your face flushes red as he finally pulls the waistband down.

finally...

[coco-loco-nut]

Forza Red Bull

Pairing: Max x Best Friend Reader

Summary: You have a big decision to make, stick with Red Bull or move to Ferrari

A/n: changing when the driver's press conference is for the plot. Thanks for the request!! I loved writing this

requests open masterlist

_________

It is getting increasingly harder to hide your trips to the Ferrari motorhome, where you are negotiating a potential contract. Fred has been talking with you the latter half of the season, just waiting on a phone call from you, one that you are reluctant to take despite it being an offer you can't otherwise refuse.

Your contract ends after this season and Red Bull is waiting until after the season to offer you a new contract, despite them knowing your requests. To you, Red Bull’s waiting says everything. They aren’t confident in you, and they don’t want you.

Carlos is leaving the Ferrari team, having gotten a better seat elsewhere. Most F1 fans believe Ferrari will be signing Ollie Bearman or Arthur Leclerc.

"Y/n, it's a beautiful day for racing," Max wraps his arm around your shoulders, fresh from a workout. The hot Abu Dhabi air doesn't help the sweat.

"Ew, Max, get off of me, you smell," you gag for the added effect.

"I'm wounded, my own teammate and best friend?" Max places his hand over his heart.

"Go shower than we can talk. I stopped dealing with sweaty Max after karting," you shove him off of you. Max rolls his eyes, heading to shower while you beeline for coffee.

Your heart hurts while greeting the staff you have grown to love since you joined the team in 2021. Hannah sits down beside you.

"How are you feeling today?" she asks, handing you a pastry.

"Good, I think I have a shot at winning today, hopefully with your brilliant strategy I will," you smile hopefully, one that drops as you see her cringe a little.

"About that, Christian wants you to defend," Hannah tells you, you can feel the anger building. You have been so close to beating Max last year and the championship is just within your grasp, you need this win. You should've known better, you were brought onto the team for your ability to defend. She shouldn’t even be warning you about Christian’s strategy, but she has a soft spot for you as a friend.

"Hannah, please," your eyes beg her to give you the better strategy.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," she whispers, the one person on pit wall you thought that was on your side other than your race engineer. You swallow your pride and nod, looking away.

"Understood, I'll defend," you say after a second.

"You are a wonderful teammate and driver, Max is lucky to have you," her comforting words fall flat. Max. Your best friend and fiercest competition.

"I have to go to the press conference," you say, standing up and walking away.

"Y/n? Everything okay?" Pierre asks, you two weren't close, but you were a part of a group chat for drivers who are traumatized by Red Bull, one that you had often joked that you don't belong in. Now you know why Daniel added you.

"Red Bull," you huff angrily.

"I'm sorry," Pierre doesn't know why he's apologizing, but he can certainly empathize with you. The two of you walk to the conference together. You weren't close with Pierre, but you aren't enemies either.

You receive the first question of the conference.

"Y/n, you've been strong in free practice and qualifying. How are you feeling going into today, knowing that these are crucial points in your battle with your teammate, Max? Especially since you were in this position last year," the interviewer asks.

"Wow, starting off strong. Um, yeah, the car has felt great all weekend, I feel great going into today. It's always so much fun to race with Max, something I've had the privilege to do since we were karting together. Max got the win last year, so I hope I can secure it for myself this year," You say, hoping that satisfies the question. It does, at least until the journalists.

"How is Red Bull handling the driver situation, seeing that you and Max are both fighting for a championship," the journalist asks.

"Obviously the team wants us both to succeed, they will have a winner either way. I'm really glad to be with a team that supports both of us that way," you lie through your teeth, knowing that Christian wants Max to win. There is a reason that the Red Bull PR team loves you doing press conferences. You can feel Pierre, Carlos, and Daniel looking at you, knowing that you are likely lying, they just aren't sure which part.

"Good luck today, Y/n, if someone is going to beat me, I want it to be my best friend. If it isn't this year, I know you will take next year's Red Bull to the top," Max hugs you. Your anger dissolves for a moment, you aren't mad at him. He makes a great point, you already have a great relationship with Red Bull, you love it here, even if Christian makes you mad sometimes. Ferrari is, well, Ferrari. The car isn't as good and the strategy is lacking. You are smart, you know Red Bull is the better team, and Christian can't ignore your ability after this season.

"Thank you, Maxie. I hope you lose," he can't help but to laugh with you. You go into your driver's room to text your agent, letting them know which team you chose.

"Y/n, are you sure?" She asks over the phone, calling you immediately.

"I am," your agent agrees to let both teams know, only asking you to call her after the race.

You get ahead later in the race, wheel to wheel with Max as you battle for P1. You know Red Bull isn't going to show their hand that they want Max to win yet.

Y/n, let Max overtake

The instructions flow through your earpiece, you push harder.

No. Max can take the win from my cold dead hands. That's a team order, Y/n I don't give a shit. Tell Christrian and Hannah to fuck off.

Max is a bit confused why you aren't letting him pass, GP told him he was getting the overtake, but he respects you wanting to fight. You ignore your engineer trying to get you to follow team directions.

Y/n, I'm saying this as your friend, your race engineer for the past 3 years. Max has the faster pace, you have to let him pass before you end up in a crash

You hold back the tears in your eyes, as you watch Max slide in front of you, taking P1.

It's not fair. I know, keep fighting. We will get it next season. I will hold you to that. Red Bull owes me that much.

You keep your helmet on after the race, not letting the cameras see you cry. Max immediately finds you after weigh-ins.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, I didn't know they were going to do that," Max says, pulling you into a hug.

"I knew. Hannah told me this morning," you do your best not to take your anger out on him.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've fought for you, you're my best friend," Max asks, confused.

"I didn't want you to throw your race for me,"

"This isn't happening next year, I will make Christian understand that. You fought so hard for the win, you deserved it," Max tells you and you nod.

"I know, I'm negotiating it into my contract. I have to go pee and make it look like I wasn't crying. I'll see you in a minute," you tell Max, purposefully being ambiguous like you have the past couple months, going into the private bathroom to make the quick call, getting your phone from your assistant.

"You have the green light to announce your contract," she says before you hang up. You subtly give your phone back and head to the podium.

"That was one hell of a fight, is Red Bull mad at you for ignoring team orders, even though you did give up the spot?" You are asked after the podium by Sky Sports.

"Probably, not that it matters much now since it was the last race of the season," you shrug.

"You have yet to announce your contract renewal with Red Bull, will you be negotiating the team orders part?" Another asks.

"Yeah, I will be making sure any future contracts don't allow something like today to happen again. Red Bull has been waiting because of my salary increase. Which is why I will be joining Scuderia Ferrari next season," you say, dropping the bomb. You had been tempted to say Forza Ferrari over the team radio.

Max looks at you in disbelief and hurt. You don't comment after that, electing to leave the room and go back to your driver's room. Charles nods supportively at you, having been informed already about his new teammate.

"Y/n, open the door," you hear Max's voice on the other side a few minutes after you change.

"Max, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I made the decision minutes before the race," your voice cracks a little.

"How long have you been talking to them?"

"Since after summer break,"

"Damn it! Why didn't you tell me, I could've helped you," Max looks utterly broken.

"Because you needed to focus on your racing. Even if I stayed things would be good for a few races then they would go back to how they are now. Red Bull will always choose you. I'm not mad at you for it, please know that," you plead a little as Max pulls away from you.

"You knew you were changing teams for half of the season and didn't tell me. You are going to our rival. You are supposed to be my best friend,"

"I am your best friend, Maxie, I wasn't allowed to say anything,"

"Don't call me that, I can't be friends with someone who doesn't trust me," Max gets up and leaves.

"Max! Max, please come back," you cry, a hole in your heart. You leave the paddock discreetly and go back to your hotel room. Usually, you'd be celebrating with Max, but now you don't know what to do. There is a knock on your door, you hope it's Max,

Daniel, Pierre, Yuki, Carlos, and Alex stand at your door with wine, a cake that reads 'Fuck Red Bull' and another that reads 'The real WDC winner'.

"Max is a dickhead," Daniel offers as you let them into your room. Despite Daniel's good relationship with Christian, he knows right from wrong.

"Thanks, guys. How did you even get cakes like this last minute?" you say, happy to celebrate with them.

“It’s a secret,” Yuki smiles secretively.

"Sorry, Y/n, you deserved the win. I'm glad you are taking my seat at Ferrari," Carlos says, patting your shoulder.

"Let's get drunk, eat cake, then go to the club," Pierre suggests, a plan that you all quickly agree to. Yuki and Alex show you the massive support you are receiving online and the backlash Red Bull is getting. It is comforting, you just wish your best friend was here.

Twitter has a field day with the squad you roll up to the bars with, but they all ask the same question, where's Max. It takes until testing for you to comment on it.

"You shocked the world after announcing a move to Ferrari not long after being forced to lose the world championship. Any harsh feelings towards Max Verstappen following last year's drama?" you are asked right away.

"None. Other drivers might be mad or take it out on the track, but at the end of the day, it wasn't his call, it was Red Bulls. Obviously, it sucks to lose someone who was your best friend, but everything happens for a reason. I can't wait to drive equally with my teammate and have the Tifosi support," you say, catching Max watching you out of the corner of your eye. He is obviously still upset. You ignore him, he can find you when he is ready to apologize.

"If she had told me what she was planning on doing, maybe we would be friends still, but I can't be friends with people who lie to me and are traitors," Max says when asked for his opinion. Max only apologized after you won the season with Ferrari, you think it was because Charles and Daniel forced him to. You are just happy to have your friend back.

[majinbangus]

Soap teaches you a new skill through unconventional methods...

"Ye really can't do it?"

You glance at the man who made himself at home on your office couch. He came in earlier after training, claiming he had free time, so he decided he best spent it bothering you. You should have kicked him out as soon as he walked through the door. Somehow, the conversation he started got into the topic of rolling r's, and now he won't drop your lack of ability to do so.

"Yeah? It's not a big deal, Soap, plenty of people can't do it."

"I guess I'm just surprised. Figured it'd be something you'd be able to do."

You laugh. "Where'd you get that impression?I'm incapable of it. Trust me, I've tried. Videos don't help, and neither does someone explaining how to move my tongue help. I just can't do it."

"Maybe it's because you haven't tried the MacTavish way."

Your eyebrow twitches. He's up to something, you know it. You can feel it in your bones. Don't encourage it. Just stay quiet. It would be best it you don't as-

"What's the MacTavish way?"

You fool.

Immediately, you know you should have kept your mouth shut, but Soap's slashes into a self-satisfied, cheshire grin. Like the cat that ate the canary, he got you. Easy.

"Well, darlin." He leaves his spot from the couch and saunters over to where you sit frozen at your desk, unable to do anything the closer he gets. "I'm glad you asked."

He's right next to you in a blink, planting a heavy hand on your shoulder. He squeezes tightly, and under any other circumstance, it would have been comforting, but all it does is make you feel like prey. You gulp, and it's clear he sees because his eyes track the movement of your throat, smirk plastered on his face.

You don't dare say anything, eyes wide and head tilted back to look up at him. You've never felt particularly intimidated by Soap before, but standing before you now, in his sweaty fatigues, he somehow looks bigger than usual. It ignites something funny in your belly, something you can't really acknowledge with him looking at you like he might eat you whole. And he just might.

But the scary part? You would let him.

"You see- " the hand he has on your shoulder smoothly travels up the curve of your neck until he's firmly gripping your scruff, pulling an embarrassing sound from your throat " -the MacTavish way isn't something I show you. It's something you feel."

"Feel?" Your voice cracks and his thumb rubs soothing circles against your neck.

"Aye, feel," he confirms with a nod and bends down suddenly, face hovering just over yours, breath puffing gently onto you. You can barely hold back a flinch at the sudden movement, but the hand he has on you holds you firm. "It's an important life skill, wouldn't you agree?"

"U-um, I wouldn't say it's-" He squeezes your neck and you clear your throat, correcting yourself. "Yes, sir."

He huffs out a laugh and gentles his hold as if in praise. It oddly makes you preen. "So you'll let me teach you, won't you?"

It doesn't really sound like a question- it more borders as a command, and fuck him because he's not even your sergeant- but you can't bring yourself to say no, or anything really. All you can do is meekly jerk your head up and down, heart racing in your chest, and do your best not to whimper when he chuckles at you and says, "Good pet, just follow my lead and I'll have you rolling your r's in no time."

He doesn't give you a chance to say anything, pulling you by the scruff and leaning in to capture your lips. You instantly fail at keeping your noises in check. Pathetic little whimpers and moans get swallowed into Soap's mouth as he doesn't even attempt at easing you into the open-mouth, dirty kiss. It's sloppy and messy, but it's slow so you can follow along, even while it has you feeling like jelly.

His hand lets go of your neck, but you don't get a moment to miss it because it's quick to grip you tightly beneath the chin, fingers curling over your jaw and into your cheeks, ensuring you keep your mouth open, not that you would have closed it, despite feeling yourself drool.

You feel his tongue press incessantly against yours, playing with it, before guiding it into his mouth. He lets you feel the way he moves and positions his tongue as he begins to softly roll an r, a gentle purr-like sound producing from his throat. It's a curious thing to feel, and you're careful not to disturb him too much, but he isn't deterred. He only stops to hum in approval at your gentle exploration.

He repeats the roll a few more times before licking back into your mouth for his own exploration, moving your tongue around until it's positioned like his was. He pulls back with a filthy string of saliva breaking off and a satisfied smirk on his face. "Try rolling your r's now, darlin."

You attempt it, and while it sounds a lot better than before your lesson, you still don't quite get it.

Soap doesn't seem bothered by it, though. He just chuckles and says, "Practice makes perfect. I'll let you feel as many times as you need, darlin. Now gimme a kiss."

-

《 scene i wanted to include but couldn't:

Reader attempting to roll r's and Soap laughing at you because you 'look like a puppy trying to growl' 》

Be gentle please it's my first time writing an actual fic in a while (￣～￣；)

ugh i wanted to keep this shorter, sorry

[junedenim]

the dignity fucks off

what happens when he stares

warnings: smut, blowjob, p in v, masturbating, fingering, eating, etc. basically the smuttiest thing i've written

word count: 5.2k

Your left tennis shoe scruffs against the clay court. That's what grabs his attention first. Then, the ruffles on the skirt of your dress—white and short—fluttering with the turn on your hips. You swing your arm, moving back, and slamming the ball across the way to your tennis coach.

It lands out-of-bounds and you drop your racquet. "I'm done!" You announce.

"But your dad has me booked for an hour?" Your coach yells back.

You scrunch up your nose and Alex is lost in it, every divet of you, lost in it. He hangs off the half-wall fence, leaning over, watching this scene. Your ponytail sways in the wind as you walk off the court.

"You'll get your payment," you tell him. "But I'm sweaty, I don't want to do this anymore." You pass by him, squinting at him. His eyes have unintentionally followed you the whole way and he knows he must look like the biggest creep. "The grass is overgrown, don't you think?" This comment is directed toward him.

He stands up straight, a stuttering mess. "Uh, yeah, yeah, I'll, um, I'll take care of that one."

"Good." You walk away and he watches you as you do this and then you turn back and—fuck! He must look like an obsessive freak (worst of all, he kind of feels like he is and doesn't care). "Is the pool clean?"

He nods. "Yeah, I just finished cleaning it a few minutes ago."

You sigh and place your hands on your hips. "Yeah, but sometimes in that time frame the leaves fall into the pool because of that dumb tree that hangs over it."

"I can clean it up for you again."

"Could you?" You're twirling the ends of your ponytail with your hands.

He can't deny you, both because it's his job, but you're also batting those eyelashes and he's already such a goner lost in you. It started on his first day when you returned home from school for summer vacation. You got out of the car in two braids in short shorts and he thought you were some worker, not the daughter. Your outfit didn't match the extravagance of the house or the elegance of your parents. That attitude was scrubbed away quickly as you were forced into these lavish things, including tennis.

"Do you want to swim with me?" You ask.

You've never been this upfront with him. Your conversations have exclusively been orders and demands. "Oh, I can't. I still have to mow this lawn, you know."

"You can take a break," you insist.

"Your dad would kill me."

"My dad is at work so that technically means I'm your boss and you look awfully hot so you're going to swim with me. Although you should wash off before, your hands look a little dirty. I'm going to change into my suit and I expect to meet you by my clean pool."

He yells after you. "I don't have a suit."

"Then go naked!" You yelled back, rounding the corner before he had a say in anything.

There are no leaves in the pool but he waits for you. As the minutes pass on more and more, it becomes increasingly more likely that you're going to be a no-show and this is all you playing a trick on him.

You come out with a towel over your arm and a skimpy bikini that is your usual swim attire. "You clean out the leaves, pool boy? Are you the pool boy?"

"Not technically but I guess I'm the one who looks after it."

You hum at this information and drop your towel on one of the recliners. "Sit," you instruct him.

"The grass isn't going to cut itself," he says.

You roll your eyes exaggeratedly. "Well, no, but I want you to sit." Alex listens and sits across from you. "I don't mean to boss you around. You do have free will if you want to cut the grass."

"No, it's fine."

"You look like you need a break anyway. Plus, what would you pick me or grass?"

He thinks the question is rhetorical until you're leaning forward, signaling for an answer. "Oh, uh, you, I guess."

You scoff, "You guess? You're not a very good liar."

"I'm not lying." He's full of bullshit and the biggest liar on the planet. He'd pick you over anything let alone a menial housework duty. 

"I know. You're pretty obvious with your staring."

Fuck. He is a creep. "I'm sorry about all that."

"Oh, I don't care. I'm used to people looking. I wouldn't invite you to swim with me if I thought you were going to assault me or something." He guesses that's a comfort to his psyche. "Do you want to know a secret?"

He nods and you bite your lip, nodding for him to come closer. Up against his ear, you whisper, "Sometimes, I stare too." You pull back and peck him on the lips. There's nothing overtly sexual about it but your lips are smooth with gloss and you're teasing in every sense; your hand on his thigh, drifting up closer and closer, your eyes trained on him, watching, staring.

Alex is caught, unsure what to do. You giggle at his reaction and pull away, leaving him stunned completely and he feels like he has been paralyzed. You leave him, jumping into the pool while he processes. 

"Get in!" You splash up at him, making him attempt to shield himself. 

"I'm not getting caught skinny dipping with you."

Your eyelashes drip of water as you bat them. "You want me to skinny dip?"

"No, I mean, do whatever you want—"

"So, you do want me to skinny dip." You're a trickster and he has a feeling you would accidentally make him confess to murder with your wordplay.

"I'm leaving."

You're cackling at him and he feels like he's being made fun of but that laugh is adorable. He'll return to the grass and relive this moment in his head while he does the whole yard and then when he's in bed tonight and, man, he's fucked. 

"Hey, Alex!" You call out after him and he's shocked you even know his name. Your hair is wet, you're wet, dripping down your body, teasing him. "One of the lights in my room is acting up, can you fix that?"

But he works for you or, well, works for your dad, either way, you have to be playing him and any fantasy stays in his mind. "I'll get right on that."

"After the lawn," you request.

"After the lawn."

*

He's twisting in a lightbulb when you return to your room, hair still dripping water, towel wrapped around your soaked body. "Did you fix it?"

Words, words, words, Alex, words! "Uh, yeah." It takes every fiber in him to not stare at your boobs. "It was, uh, just a lightbulb."

"Cool," you say carelessly, dropping the towel. "Can you undo my top? It's tied to it too tightly."

You've turned around and his internal monologue is going haywire. He could just untie it but that's too far. There's no going back after that. But he thinks you want it that way. And he wants it that way. So, what's so wrong about it?

His fingers fiddle and your body shakes with laughter. "Are you making fun of me?" He asks, trying to rid himself of these nerves.

"No, I swear." You turned around, holding the bikini top to your chest. "I'm charmed by you."

"Thanks," he mutters.

You giggle. "Your turn."

"My turn what?"

"Your shorts or your shirt? I'll let you choose."

"To-to take off?"

You nod.

"Oh, uh, I don't know—"

"Fine. Your shirt," you say carefreely like you're deciding on what you'll have for lunch. In this scenario, he's lunch. "Come on." You're smiling and your hands are sliding and it's so close to your breasts being exposed. He'd be lying if he said he was salivating to see your boobs. They are staring right at him. So, he reaches down and takes off his shirt.

Your smile is devious and he clings to the thought that you're actually attracted to him and he isn't making this whole thing up in his mind. "Now, your shorts."

"What about your top?" He quickly asks. He winces at the thought that he is coming off as a pervert.

You chuckle, your smile beaming. "See, I knew you weren't as coy as you come off as. I like a man who can take charge, you know."

His heart is beating so fast and all the blood has rushed away from his head and down south that he thinks he is going to pass out. "Then, take it off."

You bite your lip, dropping the top, allowing him to get a peek at the tops of your breasts before you cover them with your arms. "There."

"No, no, no, let me see." He's having fun with this game now with your permission and his cock doing the talking, he's gaining confidence in this whole exchange but remains terrified this is some prank you're pulling on him and he's about to get fired.

But you drop your arms, your nipples perked up, and he loses all thoughts and is fine getting fired because it's like he's witnessing the Eighth Wonder of the World. You're staring straight at him, imploring him for more, and wordlessly telling him to remove his shorts.

With just his underwear left, he tells you, "Your bottoms now." 

You listen, pulling them off, completely naked in front of him. You turn around, your bare ass to him, compelling him to get lost in the sight of it, all the curves, crevices, and notes of it.

Then, you open the top drawer of your dresser. "What are you doing?" He asks.

"Getting dressed," you reply.

Alex isn't sure what overcomes him—a demon, an unknown force, his dick—but he grabs you by the waist, turns you in his arm, and kisses you. It's powerful and he's pushed you up against your set of drawers, rattling the items atop it. Your arms wrap around his neck, tightening a hold on him and pulling him closer to you. It's hard, it's rough, and there's no escape, neither of you allowing the other to leave your grasp.

You pull away an inch, out of breath and breathing in each other's air, still trapped in one another. "Can I blow you?"

"What?" His ears are deceiving him. He's sure of it.

You giggle, captivated by every piece of him. "You're so cute. Can I give you a blowjob?"

He nods quickly. "Yeah, yeah, fuck yes." You're on your knees in front of him, pulling down his underwear off all the way, and taking his dick into your mouth before he can even process this whole situation.

Alex closes his eyes as he feels your tongue swirling over the head of his shaft, licking up the precum. He can feel your tongue everywhere on him, licking up the underside before circling around his head again. He lets out a moan, and his hand seems to automatically find its way into your damp hair, pulling you closer to him.

"That feels so fucking good," he tells you, and he starts to pump his hips a little, shoving his dick further into your mouth, pushing the back of your head against the drawers. You open wider, wanting to get as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, feeling it hit the back of your throat, which gets a moan out of you, too. He feels like he's going to come, embarrassed by not lasting long but it's uncontrollable and he figures that if he's going to do it he might as well tell you. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna come already." 

"Do it," you order him, your words muffled around his member. You bring a hand up to take a firm grasp of his cock, and you start pumping, pulling your lips back and making sure they're tightly around his head. You lift your eyes to watch his body spasm as he empties into your mouth, his cum coating your tongue and sliding down to the back of your throat. Your eyes close in pleasure as it moves through your mouth, and you suck his dick greedily to make sure you got every drop. When you're sure, you pull away and make a show of swallowing his load, bringing a finger up to wipe away anything that might have escaped. 

"Wow," is all Alex can manage as he tries to wrap his mind around what just happened. "Do you know how fucking good you are at that?"

"I know," you shrug nonchalantly. "Lots of guys tell me that. You taste good, you know. Have you ever been told that?" He shakes his head. He didn't know that was a common compliment you give to guys. "Most guys are more salty, but your cum kind of tastes sweet. Might be because you're a sweet guy. I haven't been with a lot of sweet guys." Alex has no idea what to say to that so he just nods his head dumbly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just a little..." he's out of breath and points to his head.

You smile up at him, all cutesy and desperately wishing to take a picture and remember the way you look on your knees forever. "I didn't know I was that good."

He huffs out a breath. "You're fucking brilliant."

"Thanks." You stand up, moving over to your bed. "Do you want to continue?"

Alex observes you, his mind running a million miles per second. You're sitting on your bed, legs crossed hiding your pussy, but leaning back on your arms perfectly exposing your boobs. "Fuck yes."

You're laughing at him again, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "You like to watch, don't you?"

Alex has to agree, he guesses this whole thing came out of him being a creep watching you. "You. Looking like that. Yeah."

You scoot back on your bed, open your legs, and slide your hand down, meeting your core. Your hands touch your clit and Alex watches, stupefied, wide eyes, and he's pretty sure his jaw is hanging open. 

Your fingers round on your clit and you're softly moaning to yourself. You reach up and squeeze one of your breasts and he swears to god he thinks he's about to come again just at the sight. He leans against the drawers to steady himself. You work away at yourself quickly, moaning soft moans. He reaches down and strokes his soft cock. It's still sensitive but he needs to touch himself after the stimulus he's watching. Your hips move up and you toss your head back with a final loud moan.

You lie back on the bed, regaining breaths. Your hair is messed about in the pillow and you look over at Alex, peering down at his dick in his hand, smiling. "How'd I do?"

He can't think of words, just taking his head and slowly stroking his cock.

"Come here." You make grabby hands at him, waving him over. He sits on the edge of the bed but you sit up and grab his arm. "Come closer."

Alex is sitting in front of you, your cunt staring straight at him, mesmerizing him. You drag his arm closer to you and place his hand on top of it. He looks up at you, unsure of what you want him to do. You pick up his hand, closing his hand into a fist, and extending two of his fingers.

He slips the fingers through your folds experimentally. You feel so soft and wet and amazing and he can't believe this is happening. He feels his fingers dip when he gets to the back. He hesitates, wanting to do it perfectly, trying to sit and line up the best way possible before slipping them inside. He knows he did the right thing when you moan his name. "That feel good?"

"So good," you tell him, your eyes fluttering closed. "Your fingers are so good, I can't wait to feel your cock inside me."

The combination of your words and the feeling of your pussy stretching around his fingers is enough to start getting him hard again in record time. He brings his free hand to his shaft and starts pumping up and down again. 

You spot the sight. "You want to fuck me?" you question, your breath a bit short from his fingers working on you. You sit up and push him to sit against the headboard. He thinks he's having a stroke when you straddle him. This has got to be a fucking dream, don't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up.

He takes a deep breath as you take hold of his dick, shuffling forward until the tip is brushing against you. He inhales sharply at the sensation and smiles nervously when you giggle at his reaction.

Slowly, you sink onto it. It's your turn to gasp. "Fuck, you're tight." It falls out of his mouth and he's still scared that everything he says is going to make you pull back and end this thing, order him out of the room, fire him, destroy him. But you grab his face, tilting his head up, and kissing his lips. Alex's arms wrap around your back, hugging you to him. His eyes start to roll to the back of his head as he continues to slip inside of you, the feeling so overwhelming. He wants to make sure you feel as good as he does. "How does that feel?"

"Fucking amazing," you manage to get out, your words finishing just as he gets his entire length in. You hold still for a moment to collect yourself. His senses are going into overdrive, and it's taking all of his concentration not to come already. You hold onto his shoulders as you lift yourself beginning a rhythm. 

Alex watches your face contort as he moves in and out of you, and the way you squeeze your eyes shut tightly when he hits you particularly deep. He thinks this couldn't possibly get any better, but then he starts jutting his hips out to meet his thrusts, and you both feel like a new sensation has been hit. Something neither of you have felt before. You're clutching at him and he's clutching at you as you move quicker and quicker. 

Then, Alex rolls you over and takes control, thrusting into you. You're whining and muttering things and he's grunting and moaning. 

"Harder," you pant out, trying to collide your pussy against his cock as hard as you can. 

He's huffing and he's so close, but he refuses to go before you. He tries to thrust into you faster and as hard as he possibly can.

"Fuck, fuck yeah, just like that," you cry out, continuing to buck into him. You reach up and grab his neck, pulling him down to your chest. He reaches up, caressing your side, and squeezing your tit. He pinches your nipple, twisting it around in his fingers and you're going to lose it.

"Shit," you moan at the feeling, waves of pleasure rolling through your entire body. You clench around him. His body jerks and he lets go, unloading deep inside of you. He jerks a few more times on top of you, emptying what's left. When he starts to roll over, you hold onto his waist, keeping him there. "No, stay inside."

You lie there with him on top of you recovering. You give him a kiss just below his ear. Alex pushes up onto his elbows to look at you, his dick still tucked inside you. "Are you okay? Was it good for you?"

You reach up, playing with bits of his hair, and beaming. "It was amazing. You're a nice boy, Alex."

"Thanks. You were—you are amazing."

"Do you, I don't know..." You're acting shy now and the thought that he is making you shy leaves him dumbfounded. "Do you maybe want to go again?"

He's eager, nodding quickly, "Of course."

You're giggling, petting his hair. "Okay."

"Like now?"

He apparently must be doing stand-up because you're bursting with laughter. "If you've recovered that quickly."

"I mean, no, but I can get myself there." Three times in less than an hour would be a record for him but he is desperate and if he's going to do it anytime it would be now.

"Okay." You bite your thumb. "You want to fuck your cum into me?"

He's collapsing on top of you, light-headed at the thought. "You can't say shit like that to me."

"Why?" His head is resting on top of your boobs so you reach up, threading your fingers through his hair.

He's fantasizing about it. It's crazy. He's fantasizing about it and he's about to do it. He feels like everything has shifted in the past couple of hours and he can't remember why he didn't want to come to work today. He can't imagine that there was a time when he hated this job.

He sticks his tongue out and licks your nipple making you squeal. You wiggle your body and his cock moves in you and—yeah he's ready to go again.

*

"I want to be on top again," you announce.

He feels relaxed with you like he has already shown you all the sides of him, he can now be comfortable with you. "You like being in charge."

"Well, I am your boss."

He squints. "Does that mean you're paying to have sex with me?"

For once, you laugh at an actual joke he has made, instead of his idiot self. You lean forward and whisper in his ear. "Do you like being my hooker, Alex?" You're biting on the lobe of his ear and he swears this is heaven.

"Well, technically your dad is paying me so—"

You pull back and hit his chest, shoving him away from you. "Ew! Don't say things like that. Ew! Ew! Ew!"

Alex softly chuckles at the whole display and grabs a hold of your hips to keep you from moving around or off of him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I swear."

You slowly still and look back at him. You're staring and he's worried you've changed your mind. You lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, cuddling yourself to his chest. "I believe you." You pull back and peck him. "Are we ready now?"

He nods.

"No more bad jokes."

"I swear," he promises.

Once you've both composed yourselves enough, you start to grind your hips down into him, burying his cock as deep inside of you as you can.

"You're so deep," you tell him, placing a hand on his chest to lean forward a bit, before slamming back down. You move up and down his cock slowly at first before your body takes over and you start riding him faster.

Alex watches you move, his dick slipping through his own load, making it easier to move in and out. He reaches up, groping at your boobs as you continue to roll your hips in just the right way so that his cock is hitting all the right places deep inside of you. He can't decide between watching his cock disappearing inside of you or your tits bouncing up and down as you grind into him.

He opts for watching his cock, and slipping in and out of you somehow feels even more amazing while watching it. You alternate between rolling your hips and moving up and down on his dick, and when you lean back and give him a better view, he can see some of his cum leaking out of your hole, and sliding down his shaft. It just turns him on more, and he starts pumping up to meet your hips.

Your walls close in on him, tightening around him as you start to convulse on top of him. Your orgasm rips through you, causing your hips to buck and quake around Alex's cock, setting him off. He comes right after you, shooting a second load into your already cum filled pussy, the white liquid immediately starting to seep out of you because there was nowhere for it to go. You pulse together for a moment, your core sending pulses through his dick, completely overwhelming him. His legs shake as he comes down, spent.

"Fuck, that was nice," you sigh, moving off of him to collapse onto his side. Now that Alex isn't inside of you anymore, you can feel all of his cum starting to ooze out of you. "My bed is gonna get dirty," you say, but make no effort to move. You widen your legs to slip a finger in you, your digit getting covered. You lift it up to his lips. "Try it."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you, come on, try it," you encourage, poking the finger at his lips. He sucks on your finger. "How's it taste?"

It's an odd feeling, tasting his own cum. "I don't know," he laughs. "Good. I've never tasted jizz before."

You giggle and fall onto your back, stretching out. His eyes stare down your whole body, still captivated by your boobs. "I like it. Should I get other samples for you?"

He tugs you closer to him and you roll onto his chest. "Shut up," he mutters. You peer up at him so instantly, he'd fall at your feet if he was standing. Instead, he leans down and kisses you chastely with no intentions for more. "I should probably get back to work."

You pout and sit up, figuring it's best to clean up now. Or have Sonya change your sheets. "Okay."

Alex stands up and is quick to get his clothes back on, not wanting to be caught off the clock.

"Do you want to come back later?" You ask.

"Like tonight?" Alex questions. You're standing naked in the doorway between your bedroom and your bathroom and it's easy to say if you said, "Jump," he'd say, "How high?" 

"Yeah," you nod, "like sometime after dinner."

"Uh, yeah, sure," he quickly agrees.

You disappear into the bathroom. "Alright. Don't keep me waiting."

*

"You kept me waiting!" You whine as you open your bedroom door.

He walks in, shutting the door behind him. "Sorry, sorry. I was stuck fixing something in your dad's office."

You lean on him, your arms around your neck, pouting up at him. "What about me? Aren't I more important?"

Alex quietly laughs. His arms wrap around your waist, skimming up and down on your lower back. "I mean, yeah, but what did you want me to say to your dad? 'I have to go fuck your daughter.'"

You roll your eyes. "Fine. But you're still keeping me waiting."

"You want me to take care of you?" He flirts, eyeing you all around.

He nods slowly, looking up at him as he leans down and kisses you. You quickly back up into your bed and lie down on it together. It's much more caring than last time. It's slow and sensual and he does this thing where he strokes his hand up your side but doesn't try to take your shirt off. 

You make the first move, setting everything into action. You pull his shirt off, interrupting your making out. Alex seems to get the message to put a move on things so he lifts your shirt off and you're not wearing a bra, of course, causing him to mutter, "Fuck" at the sight of your naked breasts.

He smothers them, kissing them, rounding his tongue on your nipples making you moan. You grab his hair, your fingers clutch onto it. His hair is so messy and out of place already, you're just making it worse. 

Alex moves down, kissing down your body before he reaches your pajama shorts, so small and petite that your ass sticks out of them. He kisses the knot you've made in the front before slowly untying it, making you ache in anticipation. You lift your hips and he pulls them down agonizingly slow.

He looks back up, staring at your bare cunt. He takes you by surprise and suddenly his mouth is on it. You moan, your body shaking at the slightest contact, his tongue a huge relief. "More." He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks for a bit, the flat of his tongue applying pressure at the same time, before moving back down to your hole again, dipping his tongue as far into you as it will go. Your hand moves to grip his hair again, this time tighter, as he pumps in and out of you, pulling his face even closer.

Your hips start to buck into his mouth, driving Alex's tongue deeper and deeper into you, and you can feel yourself building up. "Fingers. Use your fingers." You commanded. He instantly listens, replacing his tongue with two fingers and moving back up to suck on your clit. He licks and sucks and pumps until you start quivering against him, your orgasm hitting you brutishly.

Once your shaking lessens, he kisses your lower stomach, waiting for your next instructions.

"Well?" You question. He takes that as an invitation to make his next move. He sits up and grabs your waist, spinning you around and setting you down on all fours in front of him. You let out a yelp at the movement. 

He pulls you back against him, lining himself up and slamming into you. The softness from before is gone and replaced with utter hard need. His sweetness slips through as he asks, "Does that feel okay?"

"Yes, it feels really fucking good," you heavily breathe out. Your face pressed against the bedsheets as you push your ass back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounds into you.

He wraps his arms around your stomach and continues the rough pace. "Do you want me to go slower?" He asks.

"No!" You quickly shout. You're clawing at your sheets, desperate for relief. "Keep going." So, as always, he listens as he hammers into you, his grip tight on your hips as he drags you into him.

"So close," you gasp out, bucking back into him frantically. He brings a hand up to your clit and his fingers work away, rubbing it for you. He feels right on the edge and you're only pulling him closer and closer. "I'm gonna..."

You don't get a chance to finish your sentence as you start to spasm against him, coming harder. Your body jerks as you orgasm, and just as you start calming down, you feel his cock throbbing before he lets go inside of you for a third time.

"Oh, god, fucking fuck, fuck," he moans, his body feeling totally out of control. You lie down, slipping off of him. You let your body vibrate for a minute or two. Alex watches, unsure of how to move, catching his breath. You turn your head and smile at Alex, whose eyes are glued to you. His chest heaving and his cock is still dirty, but his eyes remain on you.

"You're working tomorrow, right?" You ask.

He nods. "Yeah."

You smile devilishly. You sit up and kiss him sweetly on the lips. "I have just the job for you."

*

a/n: so...how y'all doing?

[coff33andb00ks]

More Than Anything - Part Two

oscar piastri x pop!singer reader x lando norris (with charles leclerc)

summary: In the spotlight's harsh glare, she shattered into a million pieces, then found redemption in an unexpected place warnings: language, smut (mdni!!) notes: i still hate doing smaus but this is fun

liked by charles_leclrec, landonorris, oscarpiastri and others ynyln: Surprise!!! Lover's End dropping in 3...2...1... Special thank you to all of you, my darlings, for your unwavering love and support over the past 6 months. (I'm only gonna post about Monaco and F1 for the rest of the week)

↳ user1: 'You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart' MY JAW IS ON THE FLOOR           ↳ user2: MOTHER ATE ↳ user2: silver springs my FAVOURITE           ↳ user3: so much anger in this EP ↳ user4: it's SO GOOD

"So you'll be riding along and having a normal chat with him. Pretend like the cameras aren't there. Feel free to ask questions about anything you'd like." The assistant lowered her voice. "Other than the PR photos at hospitality later and your interview Saturday about your history of loving formula one, this is the only formal thing you have to do all week, I promise."

"Thanks." Y/N nodded as the clip mic was attached to her blouse, grinning when she saw Charles approaching on a bicycle. Muffling a giggle when he nearly crashed into the side of the Ferrari waiting for him to give her the tour of Monaco, she greeted him warmly, thinking of their friendly chatting the night before at the Ferrari dinner.

"Are you ready to see Monaco?" Charles asked once a mic had been clipped to his shirt and an assistant had fixed his hair. He immediately ran his hand through it, ruining her work, and y/n grinned again.

"Absolutely."

He drove through the winding streets, stopping to point out the more famous sites – the hotel, the casino, the harbour – telling her stories from his childhood of watching the races, seeing the grandstands being built.

"Oh, you were always rich… I can't imagine growing up in a place like this," she said as he drove past the harbour which was filling with yachts. "But I guess it was all you knew."

Charles nodded, and she noticed he looked slightly panicked at her calling him rich. "I didn't appreciate how, ah… Privileged I was until I became a man. I'll show you my school?"

"Sorry, I grew up poor so I'm always fascinated when I meet someone who didn't. I'm well aware of how different my life is, but in my head I'll always be that little girl with no money at the book fair," she babbled.

He furrowed his brow. "Book fair?"

"Oh my god they were the best thing! You'd get a flyer with all the books they'd have available and the kids would circle everything they wanted. And there'd be things like posters and bookmarks and cheap little toys? Like a little bookstore set up in the school." She smiled at the memory.

"That is why you donate money to schools, yes? To help kids like you?" he asked softly.

Y/N smiled. "Exactly." She realized she was yapping as he drove through the streets but couldn't stop herself because it was something she cared about so much. And Charles seemed to genuinely care, nodding and smiling a little as she went on an on, to the point she didn't feel the need to apologize for her blathering.

"My school," he said, parking in front of a somewhat nondescript building. "I got into so much trouble here…"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Surely they were just inchidents?"

He giggled and she saw his cheeks darken as he pulled away from the curb. A few moments later, he asked, "You've traveled around the world. Do you have a favourite country to visit?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "You know… I've been around the world twice now. But I feel like I haven't seen any of it. It's always airport to hotel to media stations to venue and back again. I rarely get back home, though. So I'll say that's my favourite place to visit." She shifted in the seat to face him. "What's your favourite colour?"

He giggled again, tugging at his Ferrari polo. "I have to say read, no?"

Y/N grinned. "Ooo, the colour of love…"

The rest of the tour was filled with laughter and reflection, and they stood near the harbour chatting once they'd finished filming, discussing music and she got the feeling he was getting around to asking her out when someone walked by and Charles laughed, turning and calling out—

"Oscar!"

The man turned and y/n felt a giddiness rise in her stomach as she recognized him. His eyes were on Charles as they fist bumped and then his brown eyes swiveled towards her, widened, and…

"H-hi," he said, and she pretended to not notice the way his voice cracked.

Smiling, she held out her hand. "Hi, so great to meet you."

His hand was warm and strong and his cheeks were turning pink. "Ah." He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning darker, his hand still shaking hers. "Great t-to meet you t-too."

She felt the urge to giggle but refrained, continuing to shake his hand as she stared into his eyes. Next to her, Charles cleared his throat.

"We were just talking about her new music," he said.

They hadn't been but that seemed to snap Oscar out of his little stupor. His eyes widened and his lips quirked up into smile. He loosened his hold on her hand and she would have sworn she imagined his shaky exhale.

"Y-yeah, I listened this morning. It's great." Oscar rubbed the back of his neck. "As always."

"You're too sweet," she insisted, marveling when the pink of his cheeks darkened more. "I'm glad you enjoy it."

Charles looked from her to Oscar and back again, and she felt her cheeks grow warm when he smirked.

Oscar stammered – Oscar stammered! she would never get over him seemingly starstruck by her – out that he was a big fan of her music and she sensed him relax while she talked about recording in secret over the past few months. "Lando's a huge fan, too," he said, his cheeks still pink and his eyes still a little wide.

"Is he? I'd love to meet him."

He was already nodding. "Y-yeah, that'd be great. Y-you can drop by the motorhome anytime."

She felt the urge to play with her hair and probably would have if Charles hadn't been watching them so closely. "I'll do that, sure. Later on, after I do some PR stuff with Ferarri?"

Oscar's shoulders sagged and he was still nodding. "Excellent." He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck again. "I'll, um, see you later then."

As soon as he was out of earshot Charles laughed.

"I have never seen him like that around a celebrity."

Y/N watched Oscar disappear in the crowd milling along pit lane. "Really?"

Charles hummed and held out his arm. "You must have that effect on people."

"I really don't know why. I'm just me," she mumbled as she slid her arm through his to walk towards the Ferrari motorhome. "Well, no, I suppose I get it. It's just… Weird to think of someone notable being flustered meeting another notable person, right?"

"So you were flustered just now?" Charles hummed knowingly.

"Stop, he's one of my favourite drivers," she groaned. "I get flustered meeting anyone."

"You weren't flustered meeting me," he sighed with a dramatic wave of his hand.

"I was," she confessed, thinking of how anxious she'd been in those first moments after meeting him and Carlos the night before. Mainly because she hated formal, corporate affairs when everyone had to be on their best behaviour.

liked by charles_leclrec, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and others ynyln: things I've learned today: my aussie accent is shit 😔, oscar hums a lot 🤭, carlos refers to me as "la pequeña niña americana" 🥰, and when I sit in a f1 car I feel claustrophobic 😬 tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari

↳ carlossainz55: Sí, mi pequeña niña americana           ↳ ynyln: 🥰🥰🥰           ↳ user1: do you even understand that?           ↳ ynyln: no but it's spanish so I'm swooning ↳ oscarpiastri: I didn't say your Aussie accent was shit?           ↳ ynyln: Lando did 😔           ↳ landonorris: it is?           ↳ ynyln: you hurt my feelings ☹️           ↳ mclaren: Lando you should apologise           ↳ scuderiaferrari: so rude           ↳ ynyln: isn't it 🥺           ↳ landonorris: wtf 😥 ↳ user2: what was Oscar humming though?            ↳ user3: probably something off the wall            ↳ ynyln: it was the oscar mayer jingle            ↳ mclaren: that was you            ↳ ynyln: 🤫🤫🤫 ↳ landonorris: I'm sorry for saying your aussie accent is shit            ↳ ynyln: I forgive you 🤗

Looking up from her phone after posting the recap of her day to instagram, Y/N smiled at Charles, enjoying the quietness of the evening. Leo was dragging his toy around, growling playfully each time Charles tried to take it away. She hadn't expected his invitation to dinner after the end of media day, but here she was in his apartment, the flavor of his thrown together pasta dish lingering on her tongue.

Charles leaned back against the couch, tossing the toy across the room for Leo. "It's none of my business…" He sighed and shifted to look at her. "But are all your new songs about him?"

She nodded. "Wrote them in a fit of rage, really. Except Flowers, I wrote that when I realized how better off I am without him."

He eased the toy from Leo and tossed it again. "I am sorry you had your heart broken."

Y/N chuckled. "Me too."

"Are you looking for someone new?" he asked after a moment. After Leo dropped the toy and flopped dramatically on the rug.

"I don't know." She lifted an eyebrow. "Why, are you interested?"

Charles laughed softly. "In a relationship, no."

She wasn't disappointed, really, but she gave him a pout. "My poor ego…"

Grinning, he moved, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "But I'm willing to…" He hesitated, finally resting his hands on her knees. "Fuck the memory of your stupid ex away."

Her eyes widened at his boldness. Before she could think of the reasons she should say no, she was nodding, moving to the edge of the couch as his hands slipped up. "I'm fine with something casual," she murmured, sliding her hands over his shoulders.

"That I can give you, cherie."

His kiss was gentle, lips and tongue working against hers until she melted. Guided by his hands, she slid off the couch as he stood, the kiss growing in intensity as he pulled her towards the bedroom. "It's been a while," she mumbled between kisses, her fingers hesitating at the hem of his sweater. "So like… Tell me if I mess up."

Charles huffed out a soft laugh, nipping at her bottom lip. "It is like riding a bicycle, hm? You'll be unsteady at first then get into the rhythm."

"Just don't expect me to ride, I'm so not into being on top," she admitted, relieved when he laughed, breaking away to peel off his sweater. His skin was warm under her fingers and she kissed him before pulling back to remove her top, keeping her eyes on his face.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, one hand cupping the back of her neck as he kissed her again, this time with growing urgency. His other hand was everywhere – at her waist, teasing the waistband of her jeans, ghosting over her ribcage, tracing the curve of her breast, flicking open the button of her jeans.

"Ah!" she gasped sharply as his fingers eased into her panties, his facial hair grazing her neck while his lips moved down. Her gaze landed on the mirror behind him and she stared at the muscles of his back as they rippled under her touch, her eyes slipping shut when his fingers began to stroke her slit at the same time his mouth closed around her nipple.

"Are you watching yourself, cherie?" he whispered against her skin, moaning when her fingers clutched at his hair.

"No… Watching you," she breathed. She opened her eyes, watching her hand trail down his back.

Charles laughed quietly, pulling his mouth from her nipple with a soft pop. "Can I watch you?"

Blushing, she gave a small nod, helping him unfasten his jeans while her heart thrummed excitedly in her chest. His lips met hers again, his hands working her jeans down her legs.

His blanket was luxurious, his sheets soft beneath her knees as he gently situated her so she faced the mirror. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he exhaled slowly, his hands framing her hips and sweeping upwards. "So soft," he breathed, eyes locking with hers in the mirror, breath hot against her skin.

Y/N could only stare at him in the mirror, feeling as though she were watching another couple entirely, the eroticism of watching his hands explore her body making her feel disconnected. Until he whispered in her ear. Gentle commands, fervent admirations that forced her to feel his touch as well as see.

His hand slipped down, cupping between her thighs, and she moaned sharply at the sight of two fingers sliding into her pussy. Reaching back, she groped at his hip, nails dragging across his skin before her hand wrapped around his cock, watching his face as he let out a ragged moan.

He spoke but she barely registered the words, already reduced to pitiful, needy whines, the live porn in front of her only adding to her desire, and when his fingers, slick, dragged to grasp her hip she leaned forward in anticipation. Still stroking his cock, still watching his face ass while she felt him shift behind her. Her thumb smeared precum over the tip of him and she was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath before he groaned into her hair, his hands nudging hers away. She lifted her hand, catching his eye in the mirror as she licked her thumb clean.

Her eyes automatically closed when he began to enter her and she whined as his hand reached up, cupping her chin and lifting her head.

"Look at your face, mon couer," he whispered.

Pure, wanton neediness. She nodded, licking her lips, clutching his forearm with both hands and forcing her eyes to stay open while he entered her slowly.

In a split second of clarity she wondered if her chin always wobbled during penetration.

"Magnifique," Charles panted against her ear, his hand sliding down to lightly rest just below her neck.

"Oh my god," she whined.

His other hand gripped her hip tight, fingers digging into her flesh. "Good?" he whispered.

She nodded, staring at his white knuckles at her hip. "So good," she gasped, shifting on her knees slightly. Suddenly keen to see more. The hand on her hip squeezed and he began a slow roll of his hips, fucking her slowly. Watching her body respond, watching the look on his face, she felt her toes curl, heat twisting deep in her belly.

Within moments the woman in the mirror was flushed. Trembling. Breasts bouncing wildly, lips parted. Charles's hand slipped up, gently cupping her throat and holding her upright and she licked her lips, hips pushing back against him, eyes rolling back each time his cock hit her spot. All she could hear was his harsh breathing and deep moans and the delicious, slick sounds of him fucking her above the sound of her own racing heartbeat.

"I'm—" She cut off with a sharp cry as the hand on her hip slid forward, fingers strumming her clit in small, hard circles. A split second later her eyes closed, back arching and a guttural moan emanating from her as she came, pushing her hips back harshly and grinding against him. Stars scattered behind her eyelids and her moan turned into a series of harsh cries as his fingers worked her immediately into another crest of bliss until she was whimpering.

"Shh shh shh," he soothed, his fingers slowing, hips still rolling against hers as he guided her down. He stayed over her while she shuddered and gasped, fingers sliding off her clit when she squirmed.

She had no idea what he was murmuring in her ear, his mixture of broken English and French lost on her as she struggled to catch her breath. But she nodded, clutching his forearm until the world around her seemed to right itself, opening her eyes to see him staring at her in the mirror.

"Très magnifique," he whispered, both hands sliding over her back as he sat upright. His eyes met hers again and he gave her a smirk that very nearly made her cum again. "Now we can really have fun, yes?"

(reblogging with taglist in like 4 mins)

[siriuslysmoking]

Stupid

Summary: An unlikely friendship leads into the battlefield together and somehow still stays strong. After Seven years of a full friendship something slips, and it will never be the same.

Warnings: None? Parental issues ig but nothing major.

-Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place And have a drink or two And then I go and spoil it all By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"-

Growing up living next to the Harringtons was different than you expected, between the ages of zero to fifteen you heard parties next door every weekend. Then one weekend they stopped. You couldn't help but notice the lack of cars in the driveway. But Steve was still at school, his parents though, his parents were nowhere to be found.

Four weekends after the parties stopped you decided to confront Steve, you'd barely talked to him before, brief hello's after school, small waves through your bedroom windows, maybe a head nod of acknowledgement in the school hallways.

When you got home from school you saw the lights of a TV flickering in the window, you decided to finally talk to him. Knocking on the door you heard some shuffling from the otherside of the door. You watched as Fifteen year old Steve opened the door lazily.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm coming in." You said with a smile.

"You can't just come in." He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes. I can." You wait until he moves to the side, granting you access to the house.

You tried not to notice the mess, but you couldn't help looking around the house you've never been in before.

"What do you need?"

"I don't need anything." You turn to him in the entryway.

"Then why are you here, bothering me."

"Oh, I'm a joy to be around, I'm not a bother."

"Alright, sunshine, What do you not need?" He rolls his eyes, leaning against the doorframe.

"I think you need something, actually, not me."

"Okay, Genie, what do I need?" He jokes sarcastically.

"A friend."

"I have friends."

"Not those types of friends, friends that don't care about what you're actually thinking." You smile softly.

"If you came here just to make me feel bad about myself, feel free to leave-"

"Where are your parents Steve?" You interrupt him, cutting to the chase.

"What?"

"Where are you parents? Every Night for the past four weeks your driveway has been empty, The shrubs are overgrown and your mother always took care of those. The house has been silent every weekend. What I'm asking is, where are you parents."

"I uh..." he pauses, something seems to be caught in his throat that he just is not willing to let go.

"You don't have to tell me, but it has to get lonely in here, if you want some company, I'm just next door." You leave a smile and turn to leave.

The next time you see Steve is two nights later, you spot him while you're laying in bed with a book. He opens his window and motions for you to do the same, you learn outside the window and give him a questioning gaze.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"Yeah, I'll bring popcorn." You smile, you didn't expect him to accept your offer of being friends, but you're happy he did.

"Thanks Sunshine."

Seven years later Steve and you have been through thick and thin, from teenage breakups, parent issues, and interdimensional creatures. Still your friendship was somehow still growing bigger.

As the party died down you walked your guests out, thanking them for coming, and the housewarming gifts.

Once everyone leaves it's just you and Steve, the two of you clean up together and once you both are done you pour a glass of wine for the both of you. You hand Steve his as you both settle onto the couch. "Thanks, Sunny."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"I'll get some popcorn." Steve says sitting up and moving to the kitchen, "Pick out a movie, just nothing too geeky."

"Hey! My movie picks are far superior than yours."

"Don't insult my movie preferences, I worked at Family Video for a year!" He shouts from the kitchen.

"Yeah until the government paid us off for our silence."

He returns with a bag of popcorn.

"Did you burn it again?" It wasn't even a question at this point.

"I take offense to that! I am fully capable of making popcorn."

"You may be able to make a beautiful fettuccine but popcorn is not your forte." He scoffs as he opens the bag and then the smell comes... "Steve, I swear."

"I didn't mean to!" He yells, you grab the bag as you rush to the trash to throw it out and open up a window.

"You are forever off popcorn duty." You shout behind you, throwing in a new bag. "The fact that you do it every time astounds me."

Once a fresh bag is made, you snuggle up with a blanket on the couch.

Halfway through the movie Steve lays his head down on your lap, you slowly run your fingers through his hair, you hear his breathing start to grow smoother and slower. You let him sleep through the movie so he'll not be so tired for his drive home. But looking at the time he should probably just stay the night

Once the movie is over you shake Steve awake, since it's so late you tell him to stay the night, he holds no argument and just follows you back to your room, once he's changed and you've both brushed your teeth.

"Night Stevie."

"I love you, Sunny." He's said it a million times over the past seven years, but this time... this time I just felt different. His heavy eyes held something that's never been aimed in your direction before. You can't get yourself to let words out, His throat sounds tight when he whispers shakily, "I'm so in love with you, it's almost painful to see you knowing that you don't know that I am utterly enamored with you. You are my universe, my star, my sky, my Sunny. And I'm sorry, I'm ruining the best thing I've ever had saying this, but I can't go another day without knowing your feelings."

You just stare at him for what feels like hours, days, years. You only escape your mind when Steve suddenly sits up, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

He says it over and over that it doesn't even sound like a word anymore. "I shouldn't have- I'm sorry."

"Steve," You murmur, standing up and rounding the bed to try to stop him from getting dressed.

"I'm so sorry, Sunny-" He's buttoning his jeans when you place your hands on his cheek, you only realize then that he let the clawing tears escape his eyes.

"Stop." You look at him softly, "Steve, I need you to breathe."

You hear him take a deep shaky breath, "I didn't want to ruin this-"

"Steve, you didn't ruin anything." You say with a soft smile.

"I- I didn't?"

You shake your head slowly, "I love you so much Steve that it consumes me, sometimes it's all I am, the love I have for you, and it's only grown over the years now that I know you."

"No..." He looks relieved, "Really?"

"Yes, Steve." You move one of your hands into his hair, it's the best way to soothe him. "So much that Robin considered calling a doctor."

He smiles into your hands, "Can I kiss you now?"

"You don't need to ask, you never need to ask." Then his lips meet your and it was like coming up for air after being stuck underwater for a lifetime.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He repeats into your lips with a smile. Once you separate he rests his forehead on yours, "I love how you know me, I love how you love me."

Because to be loved is to be known.

-

-

Likes and Reblogs are appreciated <3

[i-cant-sing]

I was rereading some of your works and this line stuck out to me

‘Enji is keeping up with all your cravings, no matter how weird. You're craving ice chips? Alright. You want ice cream at 3 am? The fridge is stocked with your favs. Oh no, you want soft serve? Its okay, princess, I'll drive us there. I'm sure they'll open the store for the no. 1 hero.’

I immediately pictured him, banging on the front door of the shop, absolutely panicked because his “baby” is hungry for ice cream and is worried that she’ll cry because of pregnancy hormones

HAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSS and like u can't blame him??? He's already so protective of you as his daughter, but not that you're pregnant with Ratsuki's baby, his protectiveness increases ten folds. Who knows what that devil's spawn is doing to your poor body???? How much pain you're in because of Ratsuki's baby????

Ugh, he just- even if you tell him how excited you are to gave this baby, Enji just can't stop fretting over you because you're his baby! Always were, and always will be!

Yandere dad Enji with pregnant daughter reader is literally so cute because there is nothing that will stop this man from making sure that you are healthy and comfortable and yes, he will still hold you whenever you're feeling down, baby bump or not, you weigh nothing to him🥰

You're feeling emotional and end up calling Enji (instead of Katsuki cause he's busy with work) and he hears a wobble in your voice? BAm, papa is at your door step in 10 minutes with ice cream and snacks and warm cuddles. Feel free to bitch about Katsuki to him (actually dont, he will kill him)

Ever since you got married and moved in with Katsuki, Enji had been missing your company. And once you had returned from your honeymoon and visited him, he realised just how terribly he missed you. So of course he grabs any opportunity to spend time with you. Baby checkup? Okay, papa Enji is coming to pick you up. Grocery shopping? How odd that he's also out of groceries. Cmon, lets shop together, and maybe some cute (SUPER EXPENSIVE, LUXURY BRANDED) maternity and baby clothes to spoil you. Nothing to do at home? Well, you can always help out dad at his work! Enji's sending a car to drive you to his company 🥰 And its like, even if you do have plans with Katsuki, Enji will pull some strings to make sure that Katsuki gets stuck at work while you sulk at home, awaiting your husband. But Enji will come to console you, cry on his shoulder baby. Sometimes, Enji will drop by unannounced, especially if he finds out that you're spending the weekend with Katsuki's parents. He'll be bringing in a boquet, kissing you on the cheek, before wrapping his coat around you, telling you that you must come home with him right away. And you're all like "??? Dad! I'm here with my in laws. I cant just up and leave-!" And he pulls the big sad eyes and says "Its Rei." and you automatically sigh and nod before going to apologise to Kats parents for cancelling your plans with them, claiming there's a "family emergency", which isnt a lie because yandere Rei is an EMERGENCY at all times. Its just, you've always known your mother's mental health was detoriating, but the rate at which it detoriated increased ten folds when you moved out. She's always been protective of you, because of all the trauma and because you're her youngest, so of course... she took it the hardest when you left her side to be with Katsuki. And before your marriage, you swore to your father that you'll always be there to help him with Mom, whenever needed, no questions asked. Its the only reason Enji gave you his blessing marry RATsuki. So whenever he misses you too much, he tells you that Rei is having another "episode" where she's screaming your name, crying that someone took you away and is hurting you, is resorting to harming herself, etc. And sometimes Rei does have these epiosdes, other times she doesnt, but it doesnt matter to either of them because if they want u home, you will come. And as soon as Enji has brought you to the Todoroki estate, your're running (or waddling) inside, immeadiately engulfed by your mother who will now proceed to coddle you and fret over you non stop for the next couple of days (spoon feeding you her food, brushing your hair until you dose off, rubbing your baby bump while humming lullabies. Enji's having the best time too becuase he gets to tuck you in at night and wake u in the morning and have more daddy-daughter ice cream dates with yall) until she's better or... well, your husbands comes to fetch you.

And Rat- KATSUKI, sees through all their BULLSHIT! But you dont and thats why he cant call them out on it. Thats why he must be the more patient one between him and your greedy parents.

[onyaki]

"such a needy boy"

c. strife

such a needy boy who won't let his needs be met. he's a boxer and you're his doctor. physical therapy, bruises, cuts, gashes, you take care of whatever he asks for. usually he doesn't ask he just barges right into your clinic asking for you to fix him up. one night after one of his matches you notice he doesn't come in. you can clearly see from the stands that he's injured. bruises and a bloody nose, yet he refuses to have you help him by never coming in. but he's too easy to read.

"cloud." you ring his phone, after his coach called to make sure he had come in after his match, as his coach said he seemed unusually distant, seems to have something on his mind.

"why'd you call, you have no reason too." he's just getting out the shower, his hairs wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. he's sore, not supposed to be though he didn't go to physical therapy with you like he was supposed to.

"whaaat, I can't call a patient? im joking. you didn't come in today and your coach called me to make sure if you did and I had to tell him no. you've never missed a day what's wrong?" you tease him and he has a internal reaction, face heating up just slightly, muscles tense just a bit.

"no response? reacting in the way you don't like?" as his doctor you're supposed to study his reactions he's felt like this before and hates the reaction his body gives.

"anyway. come over, you're beat up I need to make sure nothing's broken. your coach will kill me if you come in too hurt tomorrow for practice."

"right now?" he finally says something.

"yes right now. who cares how late it is, don't come to the clinic come to my place. I cleaned up just for you, it's nice over here promise." your place is nice, the tv speakers playing music low, the low hanging lights above you island just dimmed enough to see the counter. the dim accent lights from your room making the entrance to your room visible.

"just come over. I need to examine you, make sure nothing's broken."

"alright." he's already gotten his clothes on, right when you told him he could come over he'd dropped his phone on the bed, putting you on speaker, listening to your voice from afar.

"I'll see you soon cloud."

he shows up at your front door, soaking wet.

"it's raining? and you walked? why didn't you have your driver take you?"

"why? im capable of walking aren't I?"

"you are. you're a boxer capable of many things. I'll get you a change of clothes, feel free to shower I'll get you towel."

"thank you."

"we're doing manners today? you never say thank you." your voice disappearing into the hall as you grab a towel. "what's going on with you today? got something in your mind?" you walk back up to him with a change of clothes, a towel and a rag. "don't smell like ass, I won't examine you like that."

shit, he thought. he's been feeling a little needy all day. he even let himself get beat up during his match. so you had to touch him, you are his doctor, you fix him, bandage him, but there's plenty of other things you could do for him.

"needa get my head out of the gutter." he mumbles to himself.

"hm?" you tease, knowing whatever he just said wasn't for you to hear. "the bathroom is the second door down the hall, I'll be waiting on the couch." cloud walks past you his towel and clothes in hand, and you make your way over to the couch.

--

"done?" he came out with his towel on his head to dry his hair. you get up from the couch, walking towards your kitchen counter.

"yeah."

"sit on the counter."

"why there?"

"it's so much easier to examine you when you're not sitting where I have to work 10 times harder to even look at you. so just sit here. plus id rather be able to talk to you as well rather than just examine you, and talking to you while your on the ground is weird makes me think you're dead," you laugh a bit, and he smiles slightly.

"so, what hurts?" you question before touching.

"nothing."

"if nothing hurts I wouldn't be a doctor. now what hurts."

"my back," he sighs not wanted to admit his pain

"and..?"

"my chest."

"annnndd..?"

"that's it I swear, that's where I mostly I got hit today." he shifts in his spot, fidgeting a bit.

"your match was looked a little, off I guess I don't know how to describe it."

"I let myself get hit."

"you wanted to see me that bad?" you question, teasing a bit. he's quiet. "im joking, don't be cold and take your shirt off,"

he pulls his shirt off and as your about to touch he stops you grabbing your wrist, and pulling you closer to him. "you really don't know why im here, would any of your other patients really come over just to get an examination?"

"I don't know any who would," the two of you almost as close as you can be, your waist pressing on the counter between his legs, you wrist being pulled by cloud, and your faces so close together that you could've kissed him. "but I also don't know any of my patients who are as needy as you are. you don't think ive realized how needy you are whenever you come in? you sit down and you do everything you can to make me be touchy and teasing."

"the whole point was for you to notice." he closes the distance between you and him, touching on your waist, slipping his hands under your shirt to feel some skin.

"such a needy boy." you tease, and he lets go of your wrist, putting both hands on your waist. he leans in, kissing your neck, nipping at the skin. you squirm in his hands, almost asking for more.

"admit it, admit how needy you are."

"I really need to admit it after kissing your neck like that?"

you get close to his ear, grining. "yeah, that's what I want." your voice gets breathy, and he gets touchier. "talk to me, tell me how needy you are."

"hm, i'm not one to just tell you." he says leaning in to kiss your neck. he takes your hands putting them around his neck. as your hands rest he leans in a little more, kissing your neck even more. covering you in bruises just like the ones he has on his chest from his matches. "you look good bruised. we should switch places one day, im sure id be a good doctor"

you attempt to bite back but he hikes up your shirt. "bite down." unfortunately for you, your tough act falls down and you do as he says. with your shirt in your mouth you stuggle to whimper and moan, his cold hands slowly pawing around your body, you look him in the eyes with an annoyed look seeing how much he's teasing you "don't look at me like that, it's not my fault you tease me so much," he whispered.

you let go of your shirt, whimpering a little from his touch. "it is your fault, you're so easy to tease."

"am I still easy to tease as im touching and kissing you all over?"

"a little less easy,"

"yeah? well im about to make it a lot harder." he pushes you off of him, getting down from the counter, tugging you back to him by your wrist, shoving you between him and the ledge of your counter. "don't touch there." you decided it would be a good idea to touch on his bruises, if he's gonna bruise and bite you, might as well return the favor.

"shit–" his voice breathy and his grip on you starting to loosen. "trying to kill me?" a sense of pain shocks him a bit, and an unexpected wave of pleasure. you take your hand palming at his dick. he huffs, his shoulders collapsing into you, his head resting on your shoulders.

"easy to tease, easy to pleas–!" he takes his hands, from your waist, trailing his hands to your cunt.

"if you're gonna be bogus, we'll both have to be a hot mess."

[bangchansbackohmygod]

Hello, how are you doing?💗🌸

So I don't know if your requests are open or if you take any requests at all so feel free to delete this.

I was wondering if you could do a headcanon for yandere stray kids where they aren't just friends with the reader but not dating yet? Not fwb, just really crossing the line of friends and lovers.

Also sorry for any mistakes it's just that English is not my first language. And I hope you have a nice day!!🤗✨️

This lovely request came in a very long time ago, so I don't know if the anon is still following, but I still want to answer it because I just adore a pining yandere!

Just the Hyung Line for now, I'll post the Maknaes if y'all are interested!

Chan: The name of the game is isolation. He won't get rid of all your other friends, oh no, he's far too smart for that. Plus, as twisted as his love is, there's enough pureness in there that at least part of him wants you to live a happy normal life. He just wants you to live that happy normal life with him. So he builds your trust with a thousand little favors. Dropping off a snack for you when you have a long work shift, seconding your choice of film during group movie nights, and even picking up the phone when you need to rant regardless of his schedule. He's your rock, and your other friends trust him too just by seeing how sweet he is to you. So when he puts on a fake sad expression and says "I just don't understand *****, no matter how nice I am to him he's so rude back", you don't hesitate to start leaving that person on read. He's careful with the timing, only one or two per year. Sometimes he even plants the seed of doubt in one of your unknowing friends instead. They tell you about this "bully", and how Chan was "trying to brave through it so you wouldn't be hurt", following his composition like the notes he plucks out on his piano. Without your noticing, you're slowing being locked into a cage of dependency, where the only person in your life who is without question is Chan. He hasn't confessed yet, but he'll take a decade if he needs to so that when he does you'll have no reason to think twice.

Lee Know: Cat-sitting for Minho was something he asked for at least once a month, using his tours and schedules as an excuse. True, they lived with his parents, but he'd put on an effortless show of filial piety, taking his parents with him to foreign countries or paying for weekend getaways "just because he wants to repay them for raising him". The truth is, his parents' house and the three fluffy critters are the perfect recipe to get your guard down. You bring along your softest jammies and your favorite sleepytime tea, building yourself a little nest to snuggle into once you've finished checking the litter and filling the food and water bowls. Minho can't help but light up whenever he sees you giggling at a kdrama in his living room, half asleep and surrounded by his fur babies. How can he see you right now? The cameras. The tiny cameras he's installed all over the house just for your visits. By the tv, in the ceramic figurine in the kitchen, even in some of the kitties' more elaborate scratching posts. Your babysitting adventures are his favorite streaming channel, his ray of light when he has to be away from you. You may just be his friend now, but he likes to think of your little unknowing dates as practice for when you're his pretty little housewife. One day he'll come home to you waiting for him like that, his cold phone screen today replaced with the softness of your lips tomorrow.

Changbin: It's the Pretend Boyfriend trope taken just a step too far. It started with him warding off some creep at a party who kept trying to hand you drinks. A thick bicep around your shoulder and a "yo man, she's taken" got the unwanted attention off your back and earned him a smile and a thank you. Then he offered up a selfie that you could send to an ex that kept asking to get back together, saying that once he knew you'd moved on you'd finally be rid of him. Changbin even told you to give his number to the jerk, that he'd "act" like a protective lover if your ex didn't buy the bluff. The charade worked, and this time he got a thank you, a hug, and a bowl of ramen on you next time he had time to grab lunch. He was hooked. More and more, whenever the two of you were in public, he'd suddenly pull you in by the waist or plant his hand on the wall next to your head. He'd whisper that a guy across from you in the arcade was looking at you funny, and "it's probably better if he doesn't think he has a chance with you". The dim lights hide the blush on his cheeks and the giddiness in his eyes. You avert your own gaze and thank him as always, too flustered by his closeness to bother looking past him at the offender. It's a good thing you don't, actually. He'd rather you didn't know that over half the time there isn't anyone there.

Hyunjin: What else? You're his muse. He loves to paint, and he loves to paint you, and despite your own insecurities you can't deny that the you he translates through his art is nothing short of beautiful. It started as a portrait he requested you sit for, your insistence he find a better model shooed away with promises that he was painting all the members and some of the staff, too, for variety's sake (he's lying). He finishes the piece in record time, but since you can't see the canvas from your stool he fusses about and pretends to add lines when in truth his brush has long gone dry and his long gazes at your form aren't to get the curve of your nose right but simply for his delight. After the first painting he insists on another, and flattery tempts you to accept. You get more comfortable with each painting, and he gets bolder in turn. He begins picking out your clothes, styling your hair, even applying your makeup. The fingertips adjusting your pose before he begins slowly transition from a feather-light touch to something heavy and lingering. But he's in no hurry to break the tension he hopes you feel. As long as he has this time with you, he's content. With a shuddering breath, he dips his brush into the paint and etches his love for you into the canvas once again.

(Part 2 with the Maknae Line?)

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tea

Laura Feiersinger x Reader

Summary: You're part of her routine

She comes around at the same time every day.

Ten past three, every day you're working. It used to be every day of the week according to your co-workers but then it got less and less until it was the four days you were working.

She comes in like clockwork.

She approaches the counter. She orders a chamomile tea and whatever biscuit you've baked that morning. She smiles at you. She leaves a large tip and sits in the booth at the very back of the shop.

She stays there until she's finished the very dregs of her tea. It always takes her a while.

You don't know much about her. You know her name's Laura and you know she plays football but not much else.

But, either way, the best part of your day is when she comes in.

You've already got her drink made for when she comes in, the bell on the top of the door ringing.

"Chamomile tea?" You ask her even though you already know the answer.

She nods. "What did you make today?"

"Well," You say," Today you've got the choice between a shortbread or a muffin."

Laura smiles at you. "What kind of muffin?"

"Chocolate chip. I know you're a footballer and all that but surely you can have one little cheat day?"

Laura leans over the counter closer to you as she presses some cash into the tip jar. She winks. "I'll take a cheat day from you over anything my nutritionist."

You lean closer until you can feel her breath on your lips. "So, shortbread or muffin?"

Her eyes dip down to your mouth before coming up to your eyes again. "Both is good."

"Both it is."

The air is charged with something as you both pull away.

Laura retreats to her usual table and you move to the display case to plate up her chosen items.

"Don't forget to get her number," Your co-worker teases as you go past," This flirting can only go on for so long."

You discretely flip her off as you move past.

You slide the plate onto Laura's table and you wink as you move to go. Her hand reaches out to grab your wrist and you stop, sending her a questioning look.

She drops your wrist like it's been burned. "Sorry," She says," I shouldn't have grabbed you."

"I'm not complaining. How can I help?"

She glances behind you at the counter. "Do you have time to talk? Or do you need to-?"

"I can talk." You slip into the booth opposite her. "Was there something you needed to say?"

You both know what you're talking about but you're playing coy. You don't want to be the first one to say it.

"I...er...I don't actually like tea," Laura confesses," But the first day I saw you, you were talking about how much you loved it." Her face goes a little red and you smile.

"Are you saying you ordered one to impress me?"

"Don't make me say it out loud," She begs.

"What else aren't you saying out loud?" You ask," Because I refuse to believe that you've called me away to tell me you actually hate tea."

Laura chuckles. "No, I...I'm actually trying to ask you out. Can-Can I get your number or have I been reading this all wrong?"

You pull the pen out of your top pocket and scrawl your number down on her napkin. "You should text me sometime," You say as you rise from the seat to head back to work," But feel free to keep coming to visit. I promise to make you coffee instead of tea this time."

[sarahreesbrennan]

sorry if you have already answered this, but are we getting any queer rep in Long Live Evil? 💕 i am super excited to see what you've cooked up for us either way!

I came back after I'd gone off on one, seeing the post had struck a chord and being thankful but fearful of my inbox. Let me say with delighted surprise that all the asks are very kind.

Thank you for this one, sweet anon. I am so excited and so nervous about my best beloved, Long Live Evil, and about coming back with a new book of my own after so long, when I believed for a long time it was hopeless.

I'm really grateful to find readers waiting for me. But I know readers are naturally more invested in characters they know: I extremely appreciate you taking an interest in the future.

So, short answer: YEAH you are!

Long answer: Long Live Evil wouldn't exist without its queer narratives.

C.S. Pacat and I were talking in our virtual Brookline Booksmith event recently about our favourite Disney villains. C.S. Pacat picked Maleficent, a fine choice. I picked Snow White's Evil Queen. We agreed we loved most of them.

Here's the relevant excerpt I was quoting in my last post from Carmen Maria Machado's In The Dream House, saying 'I think a lot about queer villains, the problem and pleasure and audacity of them.' Well... me too.

I think many of us have experienced feeling made wrong in some way - for not wanting what society said we should or being what we were expected to be - and that one step along that journey of discovery is going 'Okay, if it's wicked, I'll just BE wicked.' And that's part of why those characters appeal - because they seem free, and free of pain.

But modern storytelling isn't confined to coding, and audiences can now feel free to expect, not the certainty, but the possibility characters who aren't introduced as such still might actually turn out to be LGBT+. The essays I've read about Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Sherlock, Ted Lasso, Fox 9-1-1... I think the latest argued Jaime Lannister was bisexual. (Pretty persuasive.)

I remember reading the Raven Cycle going 'oh? OH.' I remember being at a writing retreat in 2013 and running through the halls screaming about Nico diAngelo. Ten years later we got a Nico diAngelo book co-written by Rick Riordan and the amazing Mark Oshiro. I watched Red, White and Royal Blue with a friend and she said 'honestly I hope the guys get together, but...' and I (having read the book) silenced myself with a herculean effort and watched her hopes come true. I didn't know about The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and almost dropped the book in a swimming pool. But I've also read and watched many things thinking, just maybe... oh, no. Still that hope existing is meaningful, the thought that if the story had gone differently, if this revelation had happened, if this realisation had happened, if, if, if...

Long Live Evil is a story about the story going differently and asking yourself questions about your own nature, and the escape to fiction of those who really need escape. The book is based on that 'if,' and the 'if' itself is joyous, and brings me back to the idea of gleefully transgressing the narrative that much villain love is based on.

It's also an ensemble story with a rogue's gallery of characters and multiple PoVs. (I was much inspired by the Six of Crows ensemble.) So it isn't about any one character's romance, and by the book's nature there exist many possibilities. A critique partner read and said 'I didn't know you were going THERE' and I responded 'Should I?'

I've never been one to confirm where stories are going, and I won't do so now. I'm not talking about any one character or telling you a direction.

I'm just saying yes to rep. It's baked in.

[doodlebeeberry]

It's that time of year folks!!!

Very very excited to host the gift exchange once again! Past two years have been a ton of fun, so lets hope the third is even better!

if you wanna join, just reblog/reply to this post or dm me with what you'd like. full rules, dates, and details are under the cut, please read those fully first before joining!!! :]

Entries close midnight (est) November 27th!!

For the uninitiated, the osc gift exchange is exactly what it sounds like! you let me know via reblog/reply/dm what you'd like as part of your gift--whether that's a certain show, character, ship, oc, anything! Then, you'll be randomly assigned a giftee and will make a gift based on their request. Finally, once the day comes, you post your gift and @ the person its for!

the timeline looks like this:

Nov. 11-27: enter by letting me know what you'd like! as with previous years, I ask that you keep your gift requests sfw, and to please send me references for any ocs you may want as part of your gift. As well, if there's anything you cant do (ie, a character or paring that makes you uncomfortable) please let me know when you join!

Dec. 1: I'll let you know who you've been assigned! please be sure you have dms (or at the very least asks) open for this bit!

Dec. 1-30: Make your gift! this can be anything from art to writing to music to needlepoint--so long as you include the giftee's request, the possibilities are endless!

Dec. 31: post your gift, and be sure to @ who its for in the post! Please do not post your gift before this date!!! if for whatever reason this date does not work for you please let me know and we'll work something out!!

Assorted other things to note:

please make sure your gift requests are osc/ object show related! if you dont know what that is then this likely isnt the gift exchange for you lol

you dont have to do everything your giftee requests if you dont wanna. If they give you a list of 20 characters, you can pick 1, 5, 10, all 20, the choice is up to you!

if you need to drop out for any reason please let me know as soon as possible so I can reassign your giftee

not a hard and fast rule but if you could shoot me a message when you get your giftee letting me know you saw the message, itd be much appreciated!!!

you can not join anonymously! It wouldnt be fair to your giftee, in my mind, if you did :]

on a related note, while i try to make the exchange as open to everyone as possible, if i deem it necessary i can and will bar you from participating if your inclusion would be detrimental to other giftees. while i dont anticipate needing to do so (so there isnt really a reason for you to worry about it) this was an issue last year. In the very unlikely event that I dont let you join, please dont yell at me about it. just accept it and move on.

as per usual, ill be using the tag #osc gift exchange for the event, so feel free to tag your posts so i can find them! :D

And that's it! if youve got any other questions or comments, feel free to ask and ill do my best to answer them! Thank you! ^-^

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

Ed boy,,, eddy boy, he needs some tender softness in his life he's been through so much rough stuff and the thought of him having a moment to rest for a bit while reader goes "if something comes for you, I'm here to protect you" just jajfjakshdk this poor boy needs a warm hug and some proper sleep

speaking about warm hugs and proper sleep...

"1800810" you mumbled, tracing the raised ink on his shoulder.

You lay tangled in the sheets, with the moon being the only source of light in the cheap motel room.

"Does it mean anything?" you asked, snaking your arms around his.

"Yeah, it means mind your business and go back to sleep." he said pushing his hair back with his free hand, which gave you the perfect view of his sunken eyes and dark bags.

"Liar. You're just waiting til I fall asleep so you can leave." you mused, leaning closer to him. "Wanna try that again?"

Ed knew you wouldn't settle on anything less than the truth, but he'd still run circles around you until you dropped it. It worked in the past, and he would continue to use it against you.

But you were oddly persistent today.

You're calling his bluff on every excuse he gave you, and you weren't taking his half-ass lies with a grain of salt anymore.

You're becoming restless. "Then you should be used to this, already. It's not like we were ever official, or anything."

"You wound me, Eddie." you said pulling a fake frown. "I care about you, you know."

"Right." He muttered, burrowing his eyes into you. You should've been nothing more than a fling to help him get his mind off his reoccurring night terrors.

And of course, like an idiot, he got close to you too.

Damn this arrangement.

Ed sat up, his muscles tensing as he shifted away from your embrace, but you only tightened your grip around him. And you pulled yourself up with the sheets pooling around your waist.

"Hey, why are you in such a hurry to leave? I missed you." You said resting your cheek against his arm. "We barely even talked last time you were here and you don't pick up my phone calls when you're away."

Shit. This is exactly why he wanted to avoid you when coming back to Metro City because he knew you would start asking questions.

His plan was to wait until you fell asleep to make his escape, but it doesn't seem like you'll be letting up on him anytime soon.

"Is something after you?"

"Stop." He tensed at your question.

"Stop what?" You asked confused.

"Doing that...acting like you care and shit." Ed muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his voice.

"But I do." You said, unraveling yourself from him.

"And why would you? It's not like I'll stick around long enough to put you in any type of danger." He entertained the idea of staying, of succumbing to the intoxicating pull of your presence. But the looming danger of what's to come occupied his mind.

"Because if something does come for you, I'll be here to protect you." You intertwined your fingers with his.

"You? Protecting me? What a joke." Ed scoffed, snatching his hand away from yours.

"I'm serious, I don't know what you're so afraid of tha-"

"I'm not afraid of anything." He cut you off. "and I don't need you whining in my ear all the time and all that other crap."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. He's still trying to push you away despite all that you've been through.

"Look," he said. "I can't promise your safety in the future." His reluctance to involve you in his troubles probably stems from a desire to protect you. In his mind, keeping you at arm's length is another way of shielding you from danger.

"You don't need to, I can handle myself."

"Yeah, I know you can." Ed huffed, closing his eyes. He leaned into the bedframe, feeling the oncoming headache. Your insistence on being involved with him despite the risks, challenges his perception of you.

Forcing him to confront that maybe you're stronger than he gave you credit for.

You wanted to keep the conversation going, but it doesn't seem like he's willing to talk to you anymore. Months of getting to know the man you met at the Metro Station and countless dates, went down the drain. You try to shake off the disappointment, though the ache in your chest refuses to fade.

You hoped for something more to come out of this, but now it feels like it was all just a cruel illusion, with him disappearing in the masses.

"Fine, then go. You don't need me holding you back." your voice rumbled in the room's silence. If he didn't want to stay, why should you force him? "But I really hope you know, no matter what. I'll always want to be here with you."

You turned away from him, pulling the covers over your bare body.

Maybe in another life, he would've cared about you as much as you did. One where he's honest with the way he feels, instead of throwing it in your face. And one where he sees you more than someone who can warm his bed on lonely nights.

When you woke up to the morning rays hitting your face, Ed was nowhere in sight. You reached out expecting to feel his warmth, only to meet nothing. The sheets were crumpled and his side of the bed was empty.

So he did leave after all.

You sighed, turning to the nightstand to check the time. You felt something odd graze your finger, so you pushed yourself up, finding a sticky note on your phone.

"If you're serious about what you said, meet me at the subway station by 12pm. Hurry up, and don't keep me waiting."

Smiling to yourself, you threw on your clothes and gathered the rest of your scattered items around the room.

You gave one last look at the bed you and Ed shared, before closing this chapter in your life.

stuck next to you - tiishe

[xiii-e]

XIII▸ Well. I suppose I should introduce myself.

XIII▸ Hello, to all those I haven't met- which, will be most of you realistically. I'm Project XIII-E, otherwise refered to as Thirteen-E. Just Thirteen works too. After certain recent... events shall we say, a representative of the Union DoJ/HR insisted that I be given the oppertunity to meet with people outside of Harrison Purview while discussions regarding my status are underway, since things are dragging out somewhat.

XIII▸ So... this omninet account was created, with the assistance of Helios-8 [◂▸Hi folks o/ ] a fellow Project who understands all of this better than I do. He's volunteered to be my minder while I'm figuring all this out. For now, I suppose- more about me? What's important... I'm a trained field medic and basic mechanic, intended to opperate as a mobile assistance personnel wherever the fight is thickest. I can patch you, or your mech up from most things. I'm a Lancaster pilot; not the most common thing in the legion I know, but IPS-N knew what they were doing with the old lannies. I've made some alterations. M1 Leatherback is my pride and joy. I'm registered under the callsign Cicatrice, but my name is preferable. It's easier to say, and to spell.

XIII▸ Oh the uh- the Project thing. That might take a while to explain. I'll... I'll summarise it later. [ADDENDUM: summary_attached] That's all I can think of, from the top of my head. I'll do my best to aclimatise to any cultural differences outside of Harrison space during my time here. Please feel free to ask me questions, about myself or my stated expertise. It might be nice to make some more lasting connections, outside of deployment.

XIII▸ Signing off for now. I look forward to meeting you.

// loading echo.exe ... //... //... // now running echo.exe

◂▸ alrightyy, Turtie's got themself introduced, now it's my turn. howdy folks: My name is Helios-8, but I accept Lio if flashclone naming conventions turn your stomach. That's what me and Turtie are, by the way. Project-produced HA sanctioned flashclones. Being able to say that openly is why I run this nifty piece of software that keeps things below the line for any HA techs who might get on our case about legal distinctions, treaties, terms of service etc. Legally, we didn't say any of this shit.

◂▸I'm on a seperate datapad, I get my own that I can tinker with since I'm defined as an employed citizen in the tech sector, whereas Turtie's... well, it's complicated. Suffice to say they're not that. I'll explain in time. Important thing is, anything they want to say that might get them in trouble, they'll run through my interface and protective software. You want to see what either of us don't want HA seeing, we'll throw it into the void under the cloak of ECHO here. Something between insurance in case this all goes tits up, and a sort of controlled exposure therapy so Turtie can learn how to speak their mind.

◂▸I think it's important they get a break from the bullshit the Projects put us through, hence why I put myself forward to be their handler between deployments. My project line wasn't anything like Unlucky Thirteen, but- ehhh, that's a story better saved for the big expo. Sorry for being cryptic about shit. It'll come to light in its own time. This was meant to be an introduction but, I think you'll find out what you need to if you get talking to us.

Or don't; we'll be treating this thing like a diary anyways, and when ECHO's feeling up to big files I'll drop some of the more interesting pieces of history I have squirreled away too >:]c But, your eyes are enough. You saw us. You know we were here, and we were real, and that we were people too.

I'll try and keep things organised: ECHO should automatically tag anything she's cloaked with echo.exe if you're looking for our back and forth, and I'll file any large files, exposes etc that may or may not actually come from me under turtleshell.dox ; for incoming chatter, just check out You've Got Mail

◂▸anyway, cheers for reading. see you round the net -Helios-8

-----

// ooc: hiii this is @mossydice / @mossylocks depending on where you may know me- and this blog is a bit of an experiment!! I'm pretty shy overall so how much actual rping I manage to do is Very up in the air, but at the very least this'll serve as a fun in character blog for me to exposit about my scrungly Thirteen-E; I won't get to play them for probably another year or so yet, so this is a fun way to explore their character and some of the lore specific to them that I've come up with in the mean time!! ^-^ I look forward to doing more ic writing!! If you want to talk about anything, ask any clarifying questions etc please feel absolutely free to pop into my dms \o/

IMPORTANTLY: Thirteen-E's whole deal can get a bit gritty in places, so I'll be trying to include cw's where I think they might be revelent. However this whole blog is going to play heavy into dehumanisaiton and the comodification of human bodies if the flashclone premise didn't make that obvious, so if these are topics you'd rather not read about at length in your fiction, no hard feelings!! thanks for stopping by o7